søndag 3. november 2013

Ransbølge som fortjent??

Ok.. jeg ble provosert av en artikkel i Dagbladet forleden dag:  RANSBØLGE SOM FORTJENT


To journalister ble utsatt for innbrudd, bundet fast og truet på livet, og skriver dette:
To utenlandske menn brøt seg inn kjøkkenvinduet midt på natta og holdt oss fanget i to timer, nakne og bakbundne i senga, mens de tvang til seg bankkort og koder og truet med å drepe oss. Den ene raneren ble pågrepet samme morgen, og vi fikk tilbake tjuvegodset. [...] Vi fikk som fortjent. Det sa i hvert fall en av dem, mens vi lå der kneblet med hodet i puta og ranerne over oss. Han hadde tydeligvis et behov for å forklare hvorfor de ranet oss. De var ikke onde mennesker, sa han. Bare i en fortvilet situasjon. [...] Den lange versjonen av den prosessen [med å forstp ranerne] har vi skrevet i boka Ubudne gjester. Men for å hoppe til konklusjonen. Ja, vi får som fortjent. 

Min reaksjon var først å bli oppgitt.  Det er kanskje et veldig rart ord å bruke, men på en måte synes jeg det er lettvint å si at de - som opplevde å bli ranet, bakbundet og truet på livet - oppfatter det som fortjent. Det er selvfølgelig deres rett å oppfatte det slik de vil; de er tross alt de som sto i sentrum for hendelsen.. Men:

Dersom de hadde blitt drept, hadde de fremdeles fortjent det?
Dersom en av ranerne hadde gått amok i Oslo og drept en lang rekke personer, hadde det vært fortjent? Hvor går grensen for det som hadde vært "fortjent."

Hva som er "fortjent" er ikke en målbar, konkret størrelse. Du oppfatter det på en helt annen måte enn jeg, og begrepet "fortjent" har blitt brukt til å forsvare eller unnskylde så utrolig mange groteske hendelser gjennom historien, at jeg synes man skal holde seg unna det begrepet så langt som mulig.

Dessuten:  Hva innebærer det at dere synes at vi har fortjent det? Den eneste logiske konsekvensen av det må da være at dere synes at vi skal slutte å etterforske ran eller forbrytelser som er begått av flyktninger eller asylsøkere?

Det er lettvint å si at det er vår egen skyld, og dermed er det fortjent. Det er lettvint å bare legge seg ned og si mea culpa. Nei, det er ikke fortjent! Det er ikke fortjent for noen som har blitt ranet eller slått ned - ikke om de er slått ned av flyktninger eller av etniske nordmenn. Det er en meningsløs larm i en viktig diskusjon.

Og løsningen er i følge artikkelforfatterne? Å åpne grensene totalt - for grensene er jo tross alt streker som er trukket vilkårlig på et kart, ikke sant?

Er det ett politisk område som jeg ikke noensinne ville hatt lyst til å ta i med ildtang, er det innvandringspolitikken. Det er en fullstendig håpløs balansegang, for den vil alltid bli feil:  Vi kan alltids diskutere hvor liberal innvandringspolitikken skal være, men den kan aldri bli liberal nok! Uansett hvor mange flyktninger og innvandrere vi tar imot, vil det alltid være tusener - millioner - som ikke får innpass. Det er ikke nødvendigvis noe argument for å gjøre asylpolitikken strengere, men det er viktig å forstå at asylpolitikk aldri kan representere løsningen! Å fjerne grensene er en utopisk, idealistisk tenkning som aldri ville fungert - det er vanskelig å se for seg det sosiale og økonomiske kaoset som det ville føre til i Europa, de enorme motsetningene det ville ført til, og hvordan det ville satt Europa helt ute av stand til - på kort OG lang sikt - å hjelpe de som virkelig trenger hjelp.

Asyl- og innvandringspolitikken MÅ sette kraftige begrensninger. Det er jævlig vondt, men det må være slik..

Fokuset må ligge på å hjelpe folk der de er, hjelpe dem med å bygge opp sine egne samfunn.. Men det høres da mistenkelig ut som FRP-politikk? Mnjaa... bortsett fra at det ser ut for meg som om FRP bruker ideen om å hjelpe folk "hjemme" som et påskudd til å ta inn langt færre flyktninger - og SÅ skjærer de i tillegg ned på bistandsbudsjettet. Det er dobbeltmoral, det!

Men har vi ikke noe ansvar??

Selvfølgelig har vi et ansvar! Vi har et enormt ansvar for å gi fattige land konkurransemuligheter på lik linje med rike land. Vi har et enormt ansvar for å sørge for at vestlige selskaper ikke raner med seg umåtelige verdier fra for eksempel råvarerutvinning i fattige land. Vi har et enormt ansvar for å ikke støtte de som undertrykker sitt eget folk - slik vestlige land har gjort i mange tilfeller når et har passet dem. Vi har et enormt ansvar for å bruke av vår rikdom for å hjelpe andre. Vi har et enormt ansvar for å - dråpe for dråpe - forandre prioriteringene i en verden som bruker vanvittig mange ganger så mye penger på våpen som vi bruker på mat til de som sulter.  Det er en urett som er fullstendig vanvittig, og den eneste grunnen til at ikke flere tar tak i den, må være at uretten er så absurd stor at den er ubegripelig. Russland skal bruke omtrent 60 MILLIARDER DOLLAR på Olympiske Leker, dobbelt så mye som man regner med er nødvendig for å stille all sult i verden for ett år. Vi kaster ubegripelige mengder med mat hvert år..

Vi har et enormt ansvar for å forbedre forholdene for de som sitter årevis og venter på å få positivt eller negativt svar på sine asylsøknader - vi plasserer mennesker - mange barn - i en helt umenneskelig situasjon. Men å påstå at denne situasjonen gir dem rett til å rane, bakbinde og true, er å gjøre dem en enorm bjørnetjeneste. Jeg lurer på hvor mange asylsøkere som ville vært enige i dette?

Har vi grunn til å skjemmes? Herregud, ja! Vi kommer ikke unna å ta opp spørsmålene over, og det kan komme til å svi for oss. Men å si "Det er vår egen skyld at noen raner oss, og vi må bare åpne grensene fullstendig", er egentlig bare å unngå de store spørsmålene.



Only 21 years late

I am sitting and doing something that really feels a bit strange: I am scanning pictures that are 21 years old. From Russia - from when I was an exchange student through AFS in Krasnodar in 1991-1992.



At that time, taking pictures was a little bit different :) I brought a huge load of film rolls from Norway, but as I remember, there was only one place in the whole of Krasnodar - a town of 700000 inhabitants - where you occasionally could develop pictures. And it must have been only that place where I could have bought film rolls - but probably at an obscene price.

There are times when I cannot stand digital cameras. Let's for example say in weddings, where everyone is watching the ceremony - through digital screens. Sure, they'll have the pictures afterwards, but they weren't completely there. But then again, there are times when nothing is like a digital camera with a huge SD card and a charged battery. I cannot help thinking about all the pictures I would have had from all the places we went during that year if we had had digital cameras...

I only managed to develop all the pictures when I came back to Norway, and then life went on, and although I studied Russian and Eastern European politics at university, Krasnodar became very far away, and the picture albums were stuffed away in some shelf in some room.. And time went..

Then something happened that was a little bit magical to me! Early in 2013 I found my host sister on Facebook! After almost 13-14 years.. Internet provided a link.. Then, this summer, for some months I ended up in the same region in Norway as one of my Norwegian "co-students" in Krasnodar, so of course we met. And then it was the most natural thing to do was to try to collect the whole Norwegian gang - and we did meet, almost all of us. Sharing pictures, sharing stories and memories - after 22 years. It was quite a magical moment! Maybe only some few days after I understood that that moment had been far, far to short, because now the mind had started working again, and I remembered so many things that we had not talked about.

It took 22 years, and it is very strange to see those pictures again, but also very, very fantastic. To see my host family, to see some few pictures from the town, to see pictures of the people I travelled together with, to see pictures of places we travelled to...

I usually say: If I had known a little bit more about Russia before we chose which country to go to, there is no way that I would have chosen Russia. It was a cultural shock that the first weeks seemed completely unsurmountable. Then slowly, as time went by and we "settled" in the situation, we started to notice the thousands of thigns to appreciate.  If I had known a little bit more about Russia before we chose which country to go to, there is no way that I would have chosen Russia, but the I never would have known what I would have missed. And looking at it now - I would not have missed it for the world.

Maybe there will be more blog posts about it.. This post is just about this: The strange feeling of finding pictures, memories and small treasures from years that are both long gone and very close...

And this is the Norwegian gang in Moscow before going to the families.
The whole international gang..

View of the Red Square.. But from inside which building??
At my home.. Could this have been my birthday??


No comment needed..



Norwegian reunion in Vladimir some time during the winter. Note the Norwegian accessories..
Mount Bashtau - down towards the Caucasus


My block?
At school..


Bus from Tashkent to Samarkhand
Samarkhand

fredag 1. november 2013

THE VELVETEEN RABBIT

This is just a small, terribly unimportant blog post, but it has become a little bit dear to me :)

It started with seeing this picture on Facebook.


It is so beautiful - the moon shaped like a small sail boat softly gliding over the sky. The little, white rabbit sitting lonely and looking up at the moon.  Looking at the picture for a long time, some string inside me softly began to hum, and I started remembering some other pictures and smells and thoughts that come so rarely that I fear that I have half forgotten them

The illustrator is Shirley Kite.  It is so strange - I have such a strong feeling that I have seen her pictures before, but I really cannot say when and where. Or for real - if ever. They just feel very, very, very familiar to me. And they make me feel at home!









The first picture - the moon and the rabbit, led me further to this short little story: The velveteen Rabbit. 
I read it through in front of the fireplace, and it is the best thing I have read in a very, very long time. It is sad that we stop reading small fairy tales as we grow older - although some have the precious possibility of reading to their children. I look forward to doing that at some point. I look forward to reading them to my children, but I also look forward to reading them to myself, and opening that door into a room of feelings, images and smells that is all too often closed.

THE VELVETEEN RABBIT


THERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.



Christmas Morning

For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn't know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse.
The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

- "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
- "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
- "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
- "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

- "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

-"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.


The Skin Horse Tells His Story

- "The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."
T
he Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.

There was a person called Nana who ruled the nursery. Sometimes she took no notice of the playthings lying about, and sometimes, for no reason whatever, she went swooping about like a great wind and hustled them away in cupboards. She called this "tidying up," and the playthings all hated it, especially the tin ones. The Rabbit didn't mind it so much, for wherever he was thrown he came down soft.

One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn't find the china dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and it was too much trouble to hunt for china dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard door stood open, she made a swoop.

-"Here," she said, "take your old Bunny! He'll do to sleep with you!" And she dragged the Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the Boy's arms.
That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes he rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed, too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him under the bedclothes that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in. And they had splendid games together, in whispers, when Nana had gone away to her supper and left the night-light burning on the mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.

And so time went on, and the little Rabbit was very happy–so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail becoming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him.

Spring came, and they had long days in the garden, for wherever the Boy went the Rabbit went too. He had rides in the wheelbarrow, and picnics on the grass, and lovely fairy huts built for him under the raspberry canes behind the flower border. And once, when the Boy was called away suddenly to go out to tea, the Rabbit was left out on the lawn until long after dusk, and Nana had to come and look for him with the candle because the Boy couldn't go to sleep unless he was there. He was wet through with the dew and quite earthy from diving into the burrows the Boy had made for him in the flower bed, and Nana grumbled as she rubbed him off with a corner of her apron.


Spring Time

-"You must have your old Bunny!" she said. "Fancy all that fuss for a toy!"
-The Boy sat up in bed and stretched out his hands.
-"Give me my Bunny!" he said. "You mustn't say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!"

When the little Rabbit heard that he was happy, for he knew that what the Skin Horse had said was true at last. The nursery magic had happened to him, and he was a toy no longer. He was Real. The Boy himself had said it.

That night he was almost too happy to sleep, and so much love stirred in his little sawdust heart that it almost burst. And into his boot-button eyes, that had long ago lost their polish, there came a look of wisdom and beauty, so that even Nana noticed it next morning when she picked him up, and said, "I declare if that old Bunny hasn't got quite a knowing expression!"

That was a wonderful Summer!
Near the house where they lived there was a wood, and in the long June evenings the Boy liked to go there after tea to play. He took the Velveteen Rabbit with him, and before he wandered off to pick flowers, or play at brigands among the trees, he always made the Rabbit a little nest somewhere among the bracken, where he would be quite cosy, for he was a kind-hearted little boy and he liked Bunny to be comfortable. 

One evening, while the Rabbit was lying there alone, watching the ants that ran to and fro between his velvet paws in the grass, he saw two strange beings creep out of the tall bracken near him.
They were rabbits like himself, but quite furry and brand-new. They must have been very well made, for their seams didn't show at all, and they changed shape in a queer way when they moved; one minute they were long and thin and the next minute fat and bunchy, instead of always staying the same like he did. Their feet padded softly on the ground, and they crept quite close to him, twitching their noses, while the Rabbit stared hard to see which side the clockwork stuck out, for he knew that people who jump generally have something to wind them up. But he couldn't see it. They were evidently a new kind of rabbit altogether.


Summer Days

They stared at him, and the little Rabbit stared back. And all the time their noses twitched.
- "Why don't you get up and play with us?" one of them asked.
- "I don't feel like it," said the Rabbit, for he didn't want to explain that he had no clockwork.
- "Ho!" said the furry rabbit. "It's as easy as anything," And he gave a big hop sideways and stood on his hind legs.
- "I don't believe you can!" he said.
- "I can!" said the little Rabbit. "I can jump higher than anything!" He meant when the Boy threw him, but of course he didn't want to say so.
- "Can you hop on your hind legs?" asked the furry rabbit.

That was a dreadful question, for the Velveteen Rabbit had no hind legs at all! The back of him was made all in one piece, like a pincushion. He sat still in the bracken, and hoped that the other rabbits wouldn't notice.

- "I don't want to!" he said again.
But the wild rabbits have very sharp eyes. And this one stretched out his neck and looked.
- "He hasn't got any hind legs!" he called out. "Fancy a rabbit without any hind legs!" And he began to laugh.
- "I have!" cried the little Rabbit. "I have got hind legs! I am sitting on them!"
- "Then stretch them out and show me, like this!" said the wild rabbit. And he began to whirl round and dance, till the little Rabbit got quite dizzy.
- "I don't like dancing," he said. "I'd rather sit still!"

But all the while he was longing to dance, for a funny new tickly feeling ran through him, and he felt he would give anything in the world to be able to jump about like these rabbits did.
The strange rabbit stopped dancing, and came quite close. He came so close this time that his long whiskers brushed the Velveteen Rabbit's ear, and then he wrinkled his nose suddenly and flattened his ears and jumped backwards.
- "He doesn't smell right!" he exclaimed. "He isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!"
- "I am Real!" said the little Rabbit. "I am Real! The Boy said so!" And he nearly began to cry.
Just then there was a sound of footsteps, and the Boy ran past near them, and with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails the two strange rabbits disappeared.
- "Come back and play with me!" called the little Rabbit. "Oh, do come back! I know I am Real!"

But there was no answer, only the little ants ran to and fro, and the bracken swayed gently where the two strangers had passed. The Velveteen Rabbit was all alone.
- "Oh, dear!" he thought. "Why did they run away like that? Why couldn't they stop and talk to me?"
For a long time he lay very still, watching the bracken, and hoping that they would come back. But they never returned, and presently the sun sank lower and the little white moths fluttered out, and the Boy came and carried him home.

Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.

And then, one day, the Boy was ill.
His face grew very flushed, and he talked in his sleep, and his little body was so hot that it burned the Rabbit when he held him close. Strange people came and went in the nursery, and a light burned all night and through it all the little Velveteen Rabbit lay there, hidden from sight under the bedclothes, and he never stirred, for he was afraid that if they found him some one might take him away, and he knew that the Boy needed him.

It was a long weary time, for the Boy was too ill to play, and the little Rabbit found it rather dull with nothing to do all day long. But he snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to. All sorts of delightful things he planned, and while the Boy lay half asleep he crept up close to the pillow and whispered them in his ear. And presently the fever turned, and the Boy got better. He was able to sit up in bed and look at picture-books, while the little Rabbit cuddled close at his side. And one day, they let him get up and dress.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and the windows stood wide open. They had carried the Boy out on to the balcony, wrapped in a shawl, and the little Rabbit lay tangled up among the bedclothes, thinking.
The Boy was going to the seaside to-morrow. Everything was arranged, and now it only remained to carry out the doctor's orders. They talked about it all, while the little Rabbit lay under the bedclothes, with just his head peeping out, and listened. The room was to be disinfected, and all the books and toys that the Boy had played with in bed must be burnt.

- "Hurrah!" thought the little Rabbit. "To-morrow we shall go to the seaside!" For the boy had often talked of the seaside, and he wanted very much to see the big waves coming in, and the tiny crabs, and the sand castles.
Just then Nana caught sight of him.
"How about his old Bunny?" she asked.
"That?" said the doctor. "Why, it's a mass of scarlet fever germs!–Burn it at once. What? Nonsense! Get him a new one. He mustn't have that any more!"


Anxious Times

And so the little Rabbit was put into a sack with the old picture-books and a lot of rubbish, and carried out to the end of the garden behind the fowl-house. That was a fine place to make a bonfire, only the gardener was too busy just then to attend to it. He had the potatoes to dig and the green peas to gather, but next morning he promised to come quite early and burn the whole lot.

That night the Boy slept in a different bedroom, and he had a new bunny to sleep with him. It was a splendid bunny, all white plush with real glass eyes, but the Boy was too excited to care very much about it. For to-morrow he was going to the seaside, and that in itself was such a wonderful thing that he could think of nothing else.

And while the Boy was asleep, dreaming of the seaside, the little Rabbit lay among the old picture-books in the corner behind the fowl-house, and he felt very lonely. The sack had been left untied, and so by wriggling a bit he was able to get his head through the opening and look out. He was shivering a little, for he had always been used to sleeping in a proper bed, and by this time his coat had worn so thin and threadbare from hugging that it was no longer any protection to him. Near by he could see the thicket of raspberry canes, growing tall and close like a tropical jungle, in whose shadow he had played with the Boy on bygone mornings. He thought of those long sunlit hours in the garden–how happy they were–and a great sadness came over him. He seemed to see them all pass before him, each more beautiful than the other, the fairy huts in the flower-bed, the quiet evenings in the wood when he lay in the bracken and the little ants ran over his paws; the wonderful day when he first knew that he was Real. He thought of the Skin Horse, so wise and gentle, and all that he had told him. Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground.
And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. It had slender green leaves the colour of emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a blossom like a golden cup. It was so beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry, and just lay there watching it. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy.

She was quite the loveliest fairy in the whole world. Her dress was of pearl and dew-drops, and there were flowers round her neck and in her hair, and her face was like the most perfect flower of all. And she came close to the little Rabbit and gathered him up in her arms and kissed him on his velveteen nose that was all damp from crying.

- "Little Rabbit," she said, "don't you know who I am?"
The Rabbit looked up at her, and it seemed to him that he had seen her face before, but he couldn't think where.
- "I am the nursery magic Fairy," she said. "I take care of all the playthings that the children have loved. When they are old and worn out and the children don't need them any more, then I come and take them away with me and turn them into Real."
- "Wasn't I Real before?" asked the little Rabbit.
"- You were Real to the Boy," the Fairy said, "because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one."


The Fairy Flower

And she held the little Rabbit close in her arms and flew with him into the wood.
It was light now, for the moon had risen. All the forest was beautiful, and the fronds of the bracken shone like frosted silver. In the open glade between the tree-trunks the wild rabbits danced with their shadows on the velvet grass, but when they saw the Fairy they all stopped dancing and stood round in a ring to stare at her.
- "I've brought you a new playfellow," the Fairy said. "You must be very kind to him and teach him all he needs to know in Rabbit-land, for he is going to live with you for ever and ever!"
And she kissed the little Rabbit again and put him down on the grass.
- "Run and play, little Rabbit!" she said.

But the little Rabbit sat quite still for a moment and never moved. For when he saw all the wild rabbits dancing around him he suddenly remembered about his hind legs, and he didn't want them to see that he was made all in one piece. He did not know that when the Fairy kissed him that last time she had changed him altogether. And he might have sat there a long time, too shy to move, if just then something hadn't tickled his nose, and before he thought what he was doing he lifted his hind toe to scratch it.

And he found that he actually had hind legs! Instead of dingy velveteen he had brown fur, soft and shiny, his ears twitched by themselves, and his whiskers were so long that they brushed the grass. He gave one leap and the joy of using those hind legs was so great that he went springing about the turf on them, jumping sideways and whirling round as the others did, and he grew so excited that when at last he did stop to look for the Fairy she had gone.

He was a Real Rabbit at last, at home with the other rabbits.


At Last! At Last!

Autumn passed and Winter, and in the Spring, when the days grew warm and sunny, the Boy went out to play in the wood behind the house. And while he was playing, two rabbits crept out from the bracken and peeped at him. One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself:

- "Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever!"
But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real.

lørdag 26. oktober 2013

Like him/it or not - Russell Brand is right!

Before you start reading what I am about to write, you have to take a look at the interview that the British comedian Russell Brand did with CNN Newsnight's Jeremy Paxman quite recently. The video has gone viral on Youtube lately, so there is quite a chance that you have seen it. Russel Brand had been asked to guest editor for the political magazine "New Statesman", and the main question in the interview is: What right does Russell Brand, a stand-up comedian with no history of voting, have to edit a political magazine and to call for an overthrow of the current political system?

The transcript of the interview can be found HERE.

   

The interview becomes even more interesting when you read responses to it, like - 
THIS ONE, in The Independent, or
THIS EXTREMELY CRITICAL ONE in the Huffington Post 

I have to admit that I really don't like Russell Brand, I have never found him any funny. And you might find his style offensive and weird, but in this interview I find him basically correct. You do NOT need to be a conspiracy theorist to agree that many of the MAIN issues of today are grotesquely ignored in today's "business as usual"-politics. 

You do for example have to be relatively blind or ignorant not to accept as a fact that the world is facing environmental changes of enormous proportions. The world might not go under, but the effects on nature might have huge consequences in a world that is densely populated. Huge waves of refugees from affected areas are predicted, as well as an escalation of new wars as a result of floods, draughts and famine. The cosst of these problems might overshadow the last economical crises we already have been through. A good start to read about this problem might be THIS ARTICLE.  And still, this issue was barely touched upon during the last presidential election in USA. and one can only imagine Russell Brand's answer to that: Politics has become more about placating the electorate and becoming re-elected than about dealing with real issues. Think about it - this is a question that might negatively effect the whole population of the whole globe in the most dire ways, and it is not even an important topic in the American presidential elections. It is absurd, isn't it?  
Not that it is an American problem exclusively - This issue was also barely touched upon in the last elections in Norway: One party - the relatively new Green Party - dared to say that the environmental question would force us to rethink all our political priorities - that all other things would have to be subordinated to and coordinated with this: How do we solve the single most important question humankind is facing - global warming. They dared to acknowledge that it would require a new way of thinking - not business as usual - and that if most probably would require at least short term sacrifices for most of us. It definitely was a victory that they now have one representative in the parliament, but it should have been much more! And besides from the compulsory "we will fight for the environment"-words, few other parties dared to spend air time on really focusing on this problem.

Another question that Brand brings up is the absurd wealth inequality in the world. Just to get an idea about what he really is talking about, you should have a look at this UNBELIEVABLE video about wealth distribution in USA:


The numbers presented in this video - how so few people control such an enormous part of our wealth - is mind-blowingly unbelievable. 

Another number that is worth looking at is this: According to the web site The Borgen Project, the cost of eliminating world hunger is estimated to be 30 billion dollars per year. It is not the job of USA alone to do that, of course, but let us pick an American number to put things in perspective: USA spent $737 BILLION dollars in military defence in 2012. That is about 25 times the money needed to end hunger on a global scale!

Now, as I see it, there are two scare things about this, besides from these issues themselves. The most scary issue is that these issues are not on top of the priority list of every single political discussion we have, nationally and globally. The second scary thing is that any person bringing this up is in danger of being labelled - a dreamer, an utopian, a non-realist or maybe even a hippie (let's get back to that later....). 
The issues are simply so fundamental, so overwhelming and so scary that very few want to touch them. "We  the voters" might not want to touch them because they are too big for us to handle, and it is so easy to focus on the smaller issues that affect us in our daily lives. We do see the trees, but we do not see the forest.

Do we agree on this? The three things mentioned above are - if not the most important things we face - at least among the most important issues humankind is facing. And we do not do - by FAR - enough to bring them to light or to deal with them. We should be able to agree on this, right?

So, who is to blame? We are all! The politicians - or the political system - is most definitely to blame. They are put there to govern us, to deal with and handle problems, and for different reasons they are not! They are too occupied with being re-elected, to nervous of alienating voters by scaring them with too big issues, too affected by economical pressure groups. But the voters are also to blame - for not wanting to deal with the big issues, for not daring to take the big leaps, for sticking to the political parties that we are used to. And we are guilty of not holding our politicians responsible. It is hard to do that, because we know that the reason they have acted irresponsibly is very often because we ignored the same things as they do. For them to be responsible, we have to be, and that is tough: First of all you have to admit a certain guilt. Second of all, you have to pay. And we rather want to pay a little bit later....

So what is Russell Brand doing? He is pointing out these main issues. He is pointing out that with regards to these main issues, voting in the current political system seems to be futile. And he points out that there is a need for a revolution.

And you know what - he is effin' RIGHT!!  He is right in so many ways.

The word revolution is a scary word to use, because it leads out thoughts to so many earlier, horrifying events. But there will be a revolution in the sense that at we at some point will have to dramatically change the way we are dealing with some problems. If not anything else, climate change will make sure of that. If we postpone the revolution, it will his us even harder at some point!

He is correct in pointing out that he - as a citizen - has a full right to raise these questions. As he says - he should be allowed to point out problems and demand changes without being responsible for presenting the solution to all these problems - without devising a "global, utopian system". The way Brand uses the words "global, utopian system" in a rather dismissive way, also makes me believe that he is not utopian. He is calling for practical change, not some kind of a communist-style, blue-eyed utopian change. But considering the size of the problems we are facing, these practical changes will have to of such a scope that YES, it will amount to a revolution.

The thought that the interviewer is airing that Brand has no right to raise these issues because he has never voted, is also completely absurd. Anyone that has studied political science and politics knows that a democratic system is based on a lot more than votes. You might say that in an ideal situation everyone should vote, but a system where everyone votes but besides from that refrains from political and social interaction and criticism is very, VERY far away from a being a well-functioning democratic system. First of all, a democratic system needs engagement, and Russell Brand is showing more engagement than many people who vote! Also, I don't see that he is saying absolutely that you shouldn't vote. He says that you should vote when there is something really important to vote for! 

- "I say when there is a genuine alternative, a genuine option, then vote for that."

And he is right, isn't he. He is right because he is also calling for action. Just not voting, just waiting for an alternative, is a hopeless act. But if you in the meantime fight for that genuine alternative - if just by talking about the need for it - then you are still socially and politically active, and then you have the right to have your voice, your opinion, and then you have the right to be listened to!  

And I cannot not mention the hack-piece in Huffington post. It is on article among many, but it is so interesting because it seems so typical. 
It labels Brand as a hippie. You don't have to go further back than to the Norwegian elections in October to see how politicians focusing on environmental problems were derogatively described as people in sandals and knitted sweaters. 
The article points out that Russell doesn't offer any solution. Sure, you should have a certain level of knowledge about whatever you want to discuss, but to claim that you have no right to talk about or criticise something unless you have the complete solution is utter stupidity. 
And then there is the claim that Russell only has "simple answers to complex questions." More than anything else, that one reminds me of the Permanent Secretary Sir Humphrey Appleby in the amazing TV-series Yes, Minister, and how one of his ways of avoiding doing anything would be to underline that "this is a really complex question."

Brand does not have any simple answers. He has a simple, but deadly important request: 
"Complex question? Face it!!"

So, to sum up my rant... Russell Brand's interview has gone viral. He might sound pompous, but that does not change the fact that he points to issues that are huge, and that - compared to how important they are - are basically neglected by the political system!

Russell Brand has not changed the world at all! It is up to everyone to chip in and to do their little part to make the revolution that has to come. We need the hippie, we need the voters, we need those who do not vote but who hand out leaflets, we need the dreamers, we need the scientists and technicians that can find practical solutions. And we need the politicians that dare to stand up and talk about the big stuff!!

CLOUDS









onsdag 23. oktober 2013

PETER GABRIEL GROWING UP

In my opinion - the best concert ever! Peter Gabriel - Growing Up 2013


mandag 21. oktober 2013

SAVING EMILY

Some days ago I came across this Facebook page: SAVING EMILY


Emily is a chow mix that was horrifyingly abused and malnourished, she is now adopted and fighting to survive. 

I see a lot of this on Facebook, too many mistreated dogs craving help and love and attention, too many examples of abuse and irresponsible owners. This is the thing that makes me furious: How on earth people are able to do such things. I know, it is no surprise, given what people are able to do to each other, but still.. We have created species that love us, trust us and rely on us, and this is what we do..

Then there are the things that do make me happy: That there are so many people that work so hard to take care of animals. They fight an uphill battle: For every dog - or any other animal - they save, there are hundreds perishing. But for the one animal they are saving, it means everything. So many people putting their hearts into it, spending their savings and pocket money, so many people donating to help other people help..

And then the most important thing that makes me happy: The animals!!


This is Emily now! I bet she is not feeling very well, but she is sleeping in a warm place, on a soft bed, and I think she must know that she can sleep safely there. I've seen stories of rescues that have come this far only to die, they have been too weak after all to survive. But then at least they felt a warm bed, a soft hand and a loving voice before they left.

I've seen videos of Emily taking food - you would imagine that she is so hungry that she would attack the hand of the one giving her food, but no - she takes it carefully, gently, and with a tiny little wag. 

For me, there is a grace, a hope, a trust and a dignity in how these dogs behave that is absolutely breathtaking. You would think that they have lost all their - what we would call - humanity. But it is still there - they fight to survive, but they fight with dignity! This is what our world should be built on..

I'll keep the blog updated on Emily and her progress - for all the dogs out there and all those that fight for small dogs.

And then I'll go and do what I almost always do after I have read stories like this: I'll go and give my own snoring dogs - both of them rescues - an extra good hug :)


søndag 20. oktober 2013

BAN religious slaughter of animals!

Today I received an email from PIFAS, the Lithuanian animal welfare organization in Vilnius that we got Stella from. We have our mail registered there, but they do not send out chain mails or spam, so I figured it had to had some importance.

The mail informs that the Lithuanian Parliament is considering a bill that would allow for ritual slaughtering of animals in Lithuania. The slaughtering is most often done in a way that the animal has its throat cut without any previous stunning, so the animal is fully conscious when it happens.

I would advice you to have a look at THIS YOUTUBE VIDEO, but it is not very comfortable to watch!!!

Proponents of the slaughtering method might point to religious reasons, to economical reasons, or to the "presumed fact" that the animal does not feel - or is not aware of pain.

The last argument should already be solidly refuted by scientific studies that clearly show that animals feel and notice the pain of religious slaughter:

STUDY: ANIMALS FEEL PAIN FROM RELIGIOUS SLAUGHTER

We can discuss back and forth about the intelligence of animals - I guess it to a large extent depends on what you call "intelligence", but it is clear to me from my experience with animals that they definitely are emotional beings: They feel comfort and happiness as well as pain and fear!

It is obvious to me that we have a clear and natural responsibility towards any animal that can feel pain to treat that animal in the most humane way possible. I am not against hunting and do not see the problem in Norway allowing whale hunting, but we have a responsibility to do it in a humane way. When it comes to animals that we hold and that we are using for our own good or profit, we have an even bigger responsibility to treat them with respect and to harm them from fear, pain and suffering as well as we can. And to expand the case: There are animals - I for my sake am of course talking about dogs, but feel free to include any pet! - that we through centuries have trained to watch us, obey us, live with us, and trust us.  It should be an obvious thing for us as humans and society to see it as our responsibility - our debt to them - to treat them with the utmost respect!

Why?  For so many reasons: First of all because of respect for the animal itself. But also because how we treat our animals says something about - and probably affects - how we treat human beings.


The article above - "unfortunately" in Norwegian - calls for a dedicated animal police in Norway, and refers to a psychologist that says that many of her violent patients have a pre-history of violence against animals. it is hard to say what comes first in their case, but it seems clear to me that a society that teaches - also by example - respect towards animals also teaches respect towards fellow human beings. A society that treats animals with cruelty will also teach cruelty towards humans. A dedicated animal police seems btw. for me to be an of-course thing to have!

Those that know me also know - or can easily guess - that I am on the liberal side politically, but I do not see a single reason to give in to religious arguments (not to speak about economical) for ritual slaughtering of animals. If we think inflicting pain on animals is wrong - then it should be absolutely wrong and non-negotiable, just as well as we would not give in to demands to allow the infliction of pain on humans based on religious reasons. I cannot imagine a situation where eg. Norway would allow the beating of children just because of any group's religious or traditional reasons.

Ban it! If anyone wants to complain about that - let's take that fight!

Please, go to this site to sign a petition to ban religious slaughter in EU:
https://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/ban-religious-slaughter-in-the-european-union

And as for Lithuania, go to this site:
http://peticijos.lt/visos/71432

Sign it, and spread it!!!


lørdag 19. oktober 2013

Living outside town

Today I had a three hour long walk with the dogs, starting from where we live and following paths into the forest. We followed first on of the main paths, but as we got on to the smaller paths, I could let the dogs free. They absolutely love it - it is so much to sniff and check out: There are mice or other things making caves in the fields, there are squirrels in the trees, and there might be other - bigger - animals that have left their marks during the night. And around us there is a heavy forest, now and then getting thick and dense, now and then letting a glimpse of a lake through, and now and then opening up into a wider field or showing a small cabin or old farm. We are not the only ones to walk there, there are some other people and one or two bikers, but in general we can go for quite long without seeing anyone else.  The paths are mostly yellow by fallen leaves, but here and there the leaves on the ground also have started to loose their color, they become brown and slippery and start to go back to the earth.

Sometimes the forest is a little scary, especially when we walk in places where we haven't been much before. Stella can be really boneheaded sometimes, and sometimes when she goes hunting, she forgets time and place. Today she disappeared in the forest. I was not paying attention to her for a minute or so, and suddenly she was gone. The forest stretches quite far out in all directions right there, so I didn't dare to go searching for her. Instead I remained in the same place and started calling for her. It took 10 minutes or so before she appeared, running at full speed, panting like crazy and shaking terribly. Poor dog, she must have been terrified. She is a tough dog, but she gets scared sometimes when she thinks she has lost her pack. she lied down on her side right in front of me - no point in yelling or being strickt, so I spent ten minutes talking softly to her and cuddling her until she calmed down again. The rest of the walk went without problems, and we came to a really, really beautiful lake with some almost hidden paths and the remains of destroyed bridges.

It is a fantastic privilege to live like this - close enough to the city to walk to town, and far enough away to feel that it is another world, to see the reflection of eyes in the night when you walk with the dogs and the flashlight in the morning :)