onsdag 22 december 2010

Blog assignment 3

I've read a book by Agatha Christie called ”The mysterious affair at Styles. My choice was based upon the fact that I wanted to read something genuinely English that would not take up a huge amount of my time by being five hundred pages in length. What I discovered by reading Agatha Christie was that good authors do not need more than a few hundred pages to create something ingenious. This book was only two hundred and four pages and still had all the necessary elements of a good book.


Briefly the book is about a murder taking place at an estate called Styles and a detective called Hercule Poirot is summoned to investigate. Many of the books about Hercule Poirot has become TV versions and one of my main goal was to find out whether the character of Hercule Poirot pictured on TV matched the one described in the books.


I found out that they did not match. By the influence of the TV version I had discovered Hercule Poirot to be a pompous and intelligent but rather silly character. In the book on the other hand, he is pictured in a more serious way and there is not question about his brilliance. Among the other characters the stupidity is widely spread no matter if it is the TV version or the book you concider. I think it is a pity that the difference between the intelligence of Hercule Poirot and the stupidity of the rest of the characters constitutes such extremes. It makes the book as well as the TV version unrealistic. This is the only thing I don't like about the book.

torsdag 18 november 2010

Blog assignment 2

Stuff do not make us happy. We all know that. Just as we all know that much of the things that we buy is produced by people that can not afford to buy it themselves. We also know that we pollute the environment by living the way we do.


The problem is not awareness but the fact that we do not have the time for reflection. We walk on earth for just a short time and during that time we just work, eat and sleep. That is why we are unhappy, something that everybody knows to. Of course there are people working to save the earth. Each and everyone of us does something everyday to help the environment. Maybe we recycle or donate money to plant some trees. The problem is that we have built up a system that is so closely connected with money and money is power. A few people doing a few things to save the earth is never going to be enough. Money is always going to be the most important thing. As long as there are rich people with a lot of money to lose those people are going to fight hard not to lose a penny.


The only way the problem is going to be solved is for everyone to pause their lives for a moment and reflect on what really makes us happy. We have to relearn what we have lost and starting to explore ourself to see what we really want. We have to find the joy inside and spread that to everyone around us. Hopefully this will cause a chain reaction. Change takes time though and that is something we have to think about. We can not be impatient. That will only cause chaos.


These are my thoughts on the subject.

måndag 4 oktober 2010

Blog assignment 1

Reflections:

It’s incredible what you can do now days, I must say. Having said that, I have to point out that that is all there is to it. I don’t think that employers should have the right to interfere with their employees’ private lives. On the other hand, I do think that a company should have the right to gain access to certain private files if it is evident that someone is spreading information about company secrets. I also think that a company should be allowed to check what the employees are doing at their computers if there is a suspicion that working hours are spent doing hobby things. In both cases above, the act of the employee is directly linked to the loss of money for the company. Other things, like tracking the movement of employees or checking what they are writing about the boss, is just paranoia. It’s just normal to gossip or maybe say one or two things about the stupidity of your boss in an email to a friend if you are angry about something that haven’t been dealt with right in your opinion.

Conclusively I think that you should have the right to keep your private life private but if you break the rules set up for you at work, you will have to face the consequences of an investigation. I think it should be just the way it is when you break the law. No one has the right to do a house search at your place unless it is evident you have broken the law.

onsdag 18 augusti 2010

A choice

A choice

The railing of the bridge was only a meter high. The metal felt cold under her bare fingers as she squeezed it tightly. The cool of the railing seemed to spread from her hands to the rest of her body and she shivered for a moment undetermined. Inhaling some late evening air she looked down at the water below her that was curling softly to the music of a light breeze. It would be better for them all if she just disappeared. She would only drag them down in the mud. She could be no mother to them, no mother that they deserved. What were they to do with a crazy mother? She was never going to be able to keep them safe, to keep them safe from her madness. When they would come to need her, she would never be able to be there for them. Her needs would always be in first place.

A bird started to sing from the nearest tree. Its song sounded so pure, so unreal. Accompanied by the soft whispering of the leaves of the tree, it almost sounded like praise. Praise to the smooth wind that ruffled the bird’s feathers or to the fact that it was so alive, so vital. Moving her head away from the water to look at the tree, she apprehended a nest. At the top of the tree a bowl of sticks rested lightly on some branches. The bird trusted the tree to carry the weight, to keep the nest safe.

She tore her gaze away from the tree. It was no use in thinking. The more she though the harder it would get. She needed to do this. There were no way out but down, down into the water. For once in her life she was going to make something right even if that meant she was going to die. All that she had been doing in her life had been some kind of burden to others. It had all been her fault.

The water did seem so frightening. She would probably drown quickly if the fall didn’t do the trick. Still the glittering water below did not seem welcoming. She had always been afraid of water. The very sight of it reminded her of blood, blood stains. Her nightgown had been wet, like in those days when she used to wet her bed, but it had not been urine. The stains had forever edged themselves into her memory. Red stains on a white fabric.

Her mother had been lying there, while the pool of blood under her just grew wider and wider. In the end she had stopped fighting to regain the life that was leaving her. She had been kicking and screaming at first, trying to hold her hands over the wound that the bullet had caused but to no use. She had tried to crawl over to the telephone to call for help but she had been too weak. And all the time her husband had just been standing their, legs wide apart, and pointing the gun at her.

Closing her eyes she tried to erase the picture of her dying mother from her retina. She had tried this before, even tried to get rid of the image by washing her eyes with soap, but to no use. It had always haunted her just as much as the wild and starring eyes of her father as he had turned his gaze away from her mother and laid eyes on her. In that moment she had been certain she was going to die. Even though she had not really grasped what death meant at ten years of age, she had still realized that it meant to go away, to be erased from the earth. And she had been frightened. God, she had been frightened and because of that fear she had done nothing. Her mother had died and she had done nothing.

Her sister had not been there when it happened but she had told her everything and they had sworn to protect each other forever. There had been just them, no mother and no father, just them. Their father had been rightfully sent to life in prison. They had been alone until their foster parents took the scene and everything changed.

At first the government had been reluctant to separate them. They were identical twins after all and to some families that worked as an attracting factor. But not to the family that decided to take care of them. They had found her sister so much more adorable and in the end they had agreed to adopt her and the pair of them had been split up. After a couple of years they had been forced to say goodbye to each other for good since her sister’s new family decided to move abroad. They had met just prior to that and then it had all been silence. No letters, no phone calls. In the end she had stopped hoping and tried to get on with her life.

The problem had been that she had had none. No one seemed to want to keep her since she had a hard time staying out of trouble. After a couple of years she had ran off, living on the street with one of her friends. It had been a hard life, filled with drugs and a lot of other things that she hadn’t been able to control. She had been steeling, boozing, having sex with strangers, never knowing weather she would have enough food or money for the next day. In retrospect she had to admit that she had made a lot of stupid choices. She had been reckless. But she had been lonely. She had grown up with the picture of her dead mother constantly on her retina. She had been lonely and she had been scared and of all the adults around her, no one had ever tried to give her some safety. No one had ever understood her; no one had ever taken her into their arms and tried to make her safe. She had been left to the wolfs, and for that she was not to be blamed. Anders had told her that, that it hadn’t been her fault. He had wanted her to realize that. But she hadn’t listened. He had wanted to help her and she had turned him down.

She opened her eyes and gazed at the sky. It was bright blue with just a couple of clouds moving. Did it seem more welcoming then the water below? Was this the last sky she was ever going to see? Where there a sky in heaven or was heaven just a hole of darkness. Where there even a heaven?

How many times had it been now that Anders had had to take care of her? Like she had been a baby he had been forced to care for her in her dark moments. He had offered her a shoulder to cry on and she had leaned on it willingly, taking without giving. She was not able to give. Her needs were too great. It was like there could never be enough energy for anyone else then her. And still he said he loved her… for everything, for all her faults, for all her neediness. She had given him children and forced him to take the leading carrying roll and he had never complained. She had stopped getting up in the morning to prepare the children for school and all he had done was giving her a kiss and hoping for her to regain her health. She had tortured him in every possible way and he had never let her down. But now it was going to stop. He was going to be free. He deserved better, better then her, and she was going to give it to him.

The tears clouded her vision of the sky. Wet and warm they tickled down her face and fell down at the cold railing. She was going to be free. Nothing else mattered anymore. She was going to be free

In a modern loft apartment, Madeleine scrutinized her face in the mirror that hanged above the chest of drawers in the hallway. She still looked young. A few lines under her eyes were the only things to reveal that she had just turned forty five. A chestnut colored hair framed the curves of her face. There was really nothing wrong with her. She was slim and her breasts were still held high in a youthful position. In retrospect she had had many chances of finding a man, many possible candidates to choose from. Men had always found her attractive. She had never stayed with anyone of them for a longer period of time. None of them had understood her hunger for a carrier. They had tried to tame her hunger for acknowledgment, tried to tie her up in a loop of home cleaning, neighbor visits and shopping trips to supermarkets once a week. It was no life of hers. She had ambitions and in her perspective family life and carrier could easily be combines. None of her potential father candidates had agreed with her. They had always seen her as selfish. Maybe if she had known her real father and not being forced to grow up with a male chauvinist pig she would have chosen better men for herself. Or if she had known her father she would probably be dead just like her mother. Now it was too late anyway. The reality had begun to sink in by now. She was going to be lonely. All her hard work in life, all her saved money, would never benefit a child. The only thing it would be good for would be to support her and perhaps a greedy man that would marry her for the money. Not really a good future prospect. And not really one she could live with.

It was a bunch of sad faces as she entered the office. Madeleine had not expected anything else. After all she was highly respected at her work and her decision to quite had taken all of her coworkers by surprise. During her time as boss, she had mange to improve a lot of things for the employees, and they all loved her for that. Now they were probably scared that everything would go back to the way it used to once she was gone. But that was no concern of hers. She was of to new and better horizons, starting her life at last. Nothing was to be brought along on the journey. That included emotional luggage as well as material. Neither would be needed on the trip, not until she reached her destination and begun to rebuild her life the way she wanted it to be. No one was to deny her happiness anymore. The world had been doing that for too long. This time she had taken the matter into her own hands. This time…this time she was going to make it right.

It rained and still she stood at the railing. Her hands were still clinging to the cold metal. She had looked so different, Madeleine, when she had met her again. In some way she seemed to bring cold with her everywhere she went, but after just a while she had come to realize that the good hearted child was still inside of her. Seeing Madeleine again was the first time in years that she had ever felt safe. They were twins, joined at the hips, and the connection could not be broken. They had discussed her plan over and over again. Madeleine had not agreed at first. But after further discussion of the situation she had come to see the benefits of her plan. Madeleine would be a wonderful mother to her children, she was sure of that, and the children wouldn’t even notice that they had gotten a new mother. She had hugged them goodbye one last time, adjusting their seatbelts in the car and…

She couldn’t do this! It was final. The tears clouded her vision but they did not cloud her mind. Her daughters eyes had been so clear when she had bent down to give her that final kiss. The feeling of soft little arms trying to hugs her goodbye was still a memory as clear as ever. There had not been words, just silence communication, but she knew her daughter’s hugs and they meant love, love of that kind that only a daughter can give to her real mother. There had been trust as well, an unspoken word of belief in her.

She picked up her mobile phone. Madeleine could not be home jet, there were still time to make things right. If she hurried, no one would even know what she had planned and almost done.

Waiting to see the car approach in a distance she drew a sigh of relief. It all started to fall into place now. The road to recovery lay right in front of her. She would be a better mother. Her sister had sounded a bit hearth broken at the phone but still calm. She had agreed to turn around immediately and return to the bridge. She should arrive in any minute. A lorry passed her and she squeezed herself tight to the railing to avoid the suction his high speed caused. People were driving far to fast these days.

There was a sudden loud crash and she jerked by the noise. In the second that followed she threw herself aside as something huge approached her ready to crush her. She screamed, screamed and screamed as the object crashed into the railing, tearing big pieces of it with it before tipping over the edge and plunging into the canal.

In that moment she froze. Crawling on all four she looked over the edge of the bridge. The water wasn’t curling softly anymore. It moved wavelike while a silver colored estate car bobbed like a boat on top of it. In the end it started to sink. She starred at it paralyzed. Someone stopped a car. In a distance there were sirens. But in her mind there was silence.

Poem of inspiration

Poem of inspiration

What shall I write when my inspiration is lost?

Shall I create a poem no matter the cost?

In times when thoughts run dry…

…will it even matter if I try?

Will the writing itself create a feeling of urge

To bring my imagination to its verge?

The imagination is still there

I can still feel it everywhere

It whispers all around me

Bringing to life the things I see

A deserted landscape of stones

Reminds me of bare scraped bones

Like a graveyard the boulders stand…

…pointing out the apparent lifelessness of the land.

Not a soul wanders over its surface…

…in fear of being trapped in its deadly maze

And become one with the earth.

A silent lake with its deep green water

Becomes the home for gigantic beast to slaughter

They haunt at midnight in total silence…

…bringing death with their violence.

So what shall I write when my inspiration is lost?

Is a poem to be created no matter the cost?

Is it true that when thoughts run dry…

That it is useless to even try.

Or did the writing itself bring my imagination to the verge?

Did it bring to forth my desire and urge?

onsdag 28 juli 2010

E-writing assignment 4

Freja’s Poem

In a boat out at sea was a couple in distress.

It was the lack of condoms that brought to them a mess.

In their deepest dreams they had never guessed that they would be trapped at sea.

For a week they had believed they were never more to be.

The dark moment of death had awoken their desire.

Like a plague with lethal outcome it had tangled itself around them like a wire.

Now they lay in each others arms, skin to skin.

That simple gesture brought to them freedom from within.

The man placed his lips around the woman’s nipple sucking it hard.

The woman brought her hand down to the man’s special yard.

Oh Freja, the goddess of love, looked at them and thought like this.

They are making love more often now when they are not afraid to kiss.

It seems like I will have to maintain them in this isolated state.

That’s the only way I will ever make them mate.

But then someone whispered, can’t you see, they are afraid?

Is it really this way you want you future children to be made?

Nonsense, Freja said, they are just filled with lust.

If they are at home they each other no longer will trust.

They would just argue without any sex at all.

If everyone behaved like them, no one would listen to my call.

I will rock them to shore in nine months, to give birth.

And then they will help me to repopulate the earth.

And in the boat, as they feared for their lives, they chose to ignore protection.

In a moment of ecstasy they found that special connection.

Later a child conceived at sea rested lightly on her mothers shoulder.

How to mate, Freja thought, is something I will teach her as she grow older.

E-writing assignment 3

Books and friendships

To get to know a person is like reading a book.

The first step is to buy the look.

If the cover isn’t flattering at all,

the whole concept of the book may fall,

and resting it will on its shelf,

where it will deteriorate in health,

and finally fall into pieces.

The second step is to read the summary to get an over all picture.

That helps you see the elements of which the book is a mixture.

If it catches your attention,

it may not be placed in suspension,

but be brought home to an armchair.

The third step is to open the book, to read a few pages.

Hopefully you will find that the book is close to contagious.

And on you will read,

while growing from a seed,

the friendship of a lifetime.

The limerick

There once was a devil from Hell

Who owned an old dark deep well

A soul he then caught

And downward he brought

It into his special made cell

The nonnet

Gracefully the sun awakes at day

Bringing happiness, no dismay

Showing people a new way

Giving them words to say

Telling them they may

Another day

Find a way

Just say

day

tisdag 13 juli 2010

E-assignment 2

Dialogue 1: A childlike creature dressed in muddy rags is rudely awakened from her sleep by what appears to be an inquisitive leprechaun prodding her with an oak twig.

The child: Who are you?

Leprechaun: (Jumping up and down and still prodding the child with the twig) Who am I? Who are you? Who is who?

The child: Stop doing that! It hurts!

Leprechaun: (Looking at the child with slightly tilted head and excited eyes) You’re very tiny, do you know that?

The child: (Sulking) Yes I know that! What’s wrong with that!

Leprechaun: And you are very muddy to. And you stink. Where are you from?

The child: I don’t stink! I’m just muddy because I have no where to go.

Leprechaun: Don’t you have a mother to take care of you?

The child: No…

Leprechaun: What has happened to her?

The child: (sobbing) I lost her.

Leprechaun: So you lost her. From which pocket? (Laughing at his own joke)

The child: (looking angry but confused) It’s not funny! I will never find her again.

Leprechaun: Of course you will find her again. Where did you lose her?

The child: Over by the lake.

Leprechaun: What lake?

The child: The one in the forest.

Leprechaun: There are many lakes in the forest.

The child: (Starting to sob again) I will never find her.

Leprechaun: Come on, no tears, I will help you find her.

The child: But how?

Leprechaun: (holding up a green plant toward the child) With my magical four - leaf-clover.

The child: Is it really magical?

Leprechaun: It is. And if you use it, anything you wish for will come true.

The child: Really?

Leprechaun: (handing over the four-leaf-clover to the child) Really really.

The child: (closing her eyes) I’m wishing now.

Leprechaun: (Starring at a big bag of candy on the ground) What on earth! I thought you wanted to know where your mother is.

The child: But I wanted some candy.

Leprechaun: Ohh….What are we going to do now?

The child: Can’t I wish ones more?

Leprechaun: It only works once.

The child: (Starting to cry)

Leprechaun: Alright…Alright…don’t cry. I will help you find your mother anyway.

The child: (throwing herself into the leprechaun’s arms and giving him a kiss on his cheek) Thank you!

Dialogue 2: It’s five a clock in the morning and a slightly drunk 16 years old girl stumbles in after a night out with her friends. In the hall way her mother, who by no means has given her permission to be out this late, is waiting.

- There you are!

- (Stumbling a little while trying to take of her shoes) Yeah…here I am.

- What the hell do you think you are doing?

- (Still struggling with her shoes) What?

- I have been waiting up all night for you!

- What for?

- For you! Are you stupid!

- No

- And I have called the mothers of all of your friends!

- Why?

- To know where you were!

- So….

- So….what do you mean so. Have you no respect for my feelings!

- I just don’t see…

- Right! You just don’t see, do you! That’s typical you! I have been waiting for you all night and I’m going to work in three hours!

- So…I don’t see why that is my problem.

- You don’t see….You don’t see…..!

- Don’t get all worked up about nothing now mother.

- I do not get all worked up about nothing! You are just 16 and you’re drunk!

- So…

- What do you mean so!

- What does it matter?

- You’re drunk!

- Maybe.

- What do you mean maybe!

- I just mean that maybe I’m drunk.

- You’re drunk!

- Ok, I’m drunk.

- Thank you.

- Can I go to bed now?

- No, we are not done yet.

- But mother please…I’ve got a headache.

- That’s what happens when you’re drunk. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.

- I don’t!

- Good.

- Fine

- Have you been having sex?

- What?

- Sex, you know, SEX

- No!

- Of course you have, you just don’t want to tell me.

- No, I haven’t! I’m not a slut. I leave that part to you.

- And what is that suppose to mean.

- Grandma has told me what you were like when you were young.

- Really?

- She said she had a hard time stopping you from sleeping with everyone you laid you eyes on.

- (launching at her daughter)Oh, she said that, did she?

- (Jumping aside) Yes she did!

- (boyfriend of mother entering from the living room) Stop arguing you two. You have both gotten too much to drink this evening.

- (Looking suspiciously at her mother) You’re drunk!

- No, I’m not!

- Yes you are! You haven’t been waiting for me, you have been boozing!

- Now you two…

- (running up the stairs) I hate you!

- Hanna!

Dialogue 3

- Grandma?

- Yes dear?

- Are you going to be alright?

- Of course I will dear.

- What will happen to you?

- What do you mean?

- Mamma says you are going to die.

- Does she?

- Yes.

- Hum…Maybe I will.

- What does that mean?

- That means that I will fall asleep forever, dreaming nice dreams.

- Really?

- Yes, really.

- Will you snore when you’re dead?

- (A short laughter) Maybe.

- What will you be dreaming?

- All kinds of nice things.

- Like ponies?

- Yes, like ponies.

- And elephants and dragons and tigers?

- Yes, things like that.

- Can I talk to you?

- No, you can’t talk to someone who is sleeping.

- Why not?

- (A light sigh) Well, you can’t.

- Why not?

- Because I can’t talk when I’m asleep.

- But I will still get my birthday present?

- (A short laughter) Of course you will.

- I love you grandma.

- I love you to dear.