Elevantetisk bekantese
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De motkulturelle
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Slasken
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Furet værbitt under mammutsolen
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Gammeldans for sinnsekter
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Spidduisme for de uinteresserte
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Tre kjellerbuskneper på nakkeloftet
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In the Land of Piktel Kumba
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Sviskepønkfamilien (Umulius hilarious)
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ÆSJ!
Så det er visst ikke bare jeg som har lagt merke til denne lange glatte fisen av et u(kreativt)-land, lol.
Robbie Williams er ikke akkurat noe kunstnerisk geni han heller, tjo-bing!
det er temmelig mediokre greier på popindustriens samlebånd
for å tjene penger, ikke for å lage musikk,
så sånn sett er det han selv sier engentlig ganske talende for hans egen popularitet i Nörje:
“So, last night on stage I
mentioned the amount of white/
beige chino’s and white tops that
I was witnessing in Oslo was
staggering. Like they’re government issued
or something. So when I got back to
the hotel, I spent ten minutes and
10 minutes alone on my balcony
documenting it for public record.”
– Robbie Williams, 25. juni 2023
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My Beauty
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I Can’t See Your Face in My Mind
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En vanlig dag
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Spooky Weirdness
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The Wokkle of voff Giblins
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The Wokkle of voff Giblins in Space
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Still Life with Colors
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Here We Go Again
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En lidelseshistorie
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Dassdriterne (dassdriting!)
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There are obviously two types of people. Those who want to live their lives, and those who want to stand in the way of it.
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A Shapeshifting Reptilian Brainchipped by Elon Musk
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PRIDE MONTH
Det er de uvaksinerte
som står på pinne for å hjelpe de som er skadet
av vaksinen,
for å hjelpe dem med rettighetene deres,
fordi myndighetene ikke bryr seg.
Det er de uvaksinerte
som står på pinne for å hjelpe de som er skadet
av vaksinen,
fordi legene som ga dem vaksinen,
tråkker på dem
i fornektelse.
Det er de uvaksinerte
som står på pinne for å hjelpe de etterlatte
som har mistet sine kjære
til vaksinen,
fordi samfunnet kaller dem konspirasjonsteoretikere.
Det er de uvaksinerte
som står på pinne for å bygge broer
med de vaksinerte,
som forlangte å få dem ekskludert
fra kulturen.
Jeg er stolt av å være uvaksinert.
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Royal knuff at the Breakpoint of lalala
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Epikrise
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Graffiti Rainbow Bridge
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The 9 Symphonies of Ludwig van Beethoven
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Unknown Side Effects of a Combination of Tramadol and Zopiclone and Atarax and Vimovo and Paracet and Paracet Duo and Pinex and Aspirin and Fenazon-koffein and Remeron and Sarotex and Melatonin and Postafen and Titralac and Albyl-E and Stesolid and Voltarol Forte and Sedix and Lunixen and the Devil’s Claw
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Walking in the Moon Shadow of Captain Beefheart and Don Van Vliet
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En folkefiende
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Har du et åpent sinn? spør noen. Det er mange dører i livet. Jeg er åpen for det som åpner meg. Hvis du stenger meg inne, så stenger jeg deg ute. Hvis du stenger meg ute, så går jeg min vei.
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Hungry Freaks, Daddy
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Hungry for Stink
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The Summer of Love and Hate
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De fem årstider
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2 + 2 = 4
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All hail to the surreal hippie era of the 60s and the 70s!
If it wasn’t for that playful period in time,
I wouldn’t have been half as interested in music as I am.
The stoned immaculate Jim Morrison and The Doors of perception, The big bang orgasmic guitar freakouts of The Jimi Hendrix Experience, the otherwordly electric musicianship of Miles Davis’ directions in music, the avant garde lunacy of John & Yoko, Syd Barrett’s psychedelic Pink Floyd, Peter Green’s spiritual Fleetwood Mac, the eclectic multicultural Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beach Boys’ mighty SMiLE, the free spirited Trout Mask Replica, the cling clang of Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band, Forever Changes with Love, the hippies of Haight-Asbury, the bohemians of Daevid Allen’s Gong, the earthy Janis Joplin, the political protest of Jefferson Airplane, Born to Be Wild with Steppenwolf, the baroque’n’roll of Brian Jones’ The Rolling Stones, the legendary Woodstock Festival, the Monterey Pop Festival and the Isle of Wight, Eric Clapton’s progressive bluesrock of Cream, the free jazz ideas of Robert Wyatt’s adventurous Soft Machine, the satirical musical comedy of Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention.
The list goes on and on!
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Face Value
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Livsstilfrykt (til døden skiller dere ad)
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Nefelitos afiliteter
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The Will of the People
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The Sacrifice of Grimble’s Grumble
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A Footnote to the Human Bean
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GROUP THINK (NEW PSYCHOLOGY)
Are you a group think narcissist?
Are you a group think psychopath?
If you are well-adjusted in society,
then this might suit you:
“Narcissistic group think personality disorder is a mental health condition in which group think people have an unreasonably high sense of their own importance. They need and seek too much attention and want the minority of people to admire them. Group think people with this disorder may lack the ability to understand or care about the individual feelings of others.”
“Group think psychopathy is a mental health condition characterized by persistent antisocial group think behavior, impaired empathy and remorse, and bold, disinhibited, and egotistical group think traits.”
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Wikipedia: “The word nigger is a racial slur used against black people, especially African Americans.”
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Pludderuskene, You Motherfucker!
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Black Stud and the Homophobes
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Lolita and the Pedophiles
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The Grammar Police
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Pjalle føler seg ikke bra (ikke jeg heller)
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Dassdriterne kommer! Dassdriting Forever! Lenge leve dassdritt!
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Hebrato fondelesi
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Halutisk embaktu
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In the Ping of Pang and Pong
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INNOCENT CRIMINALS
All people are evil,
insane,
scum of the earth,
in one way or another,
be it purposeful or ignorant.
It can’t be un-seen once you’ve seen it.
In endless cackling self-righteous moralistic nagging judgemental speeches
about making the world a better place,
about making oneself a better person,
about change and improvement,
about creating a better future for the children,
about renewal and modernization,
about justice and injustice,
about enhancing your life,
about forgetting the past and looking to the future,
always escaping the failed project of the last week
in support of the latest newest project this week,
everything is permanently locked down
in a nightmarish hell of mindless remolding for a better that never comes,
endlessly chasing carrots,
where no one is present in the moment,
where no one is happy at the moment.
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Snot Eaters of the World Unite!
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My Dirty Underpants (A Change Is Gonna Come)
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Flower Children
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Et sinnsverk
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Sinnsektene leker
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Just me and my bubbles.
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My friends have arrived.
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Langsonenti Absuletiten
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Bubbling Again
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The Childhood of Tchjing-Tchjing
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The Mothers of Invention
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Rhapsody on a Theme of Rachmaninov
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Når tissen bæsjer
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Hubrakadubra
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The Wisdom of a Golden Shower
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The Horrors of Øyvind Sand!
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Facts of a Moon Dog Tree
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Streite køller på Mjøsa, beibi!
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Still Life with No Statistics
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Trimsel over skopussens hårete alper
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Hektorianske fandangler
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At Rock Bottom with Robert Wyatt
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Scum of the Earth
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On Tour with Paul McCartney and Wings
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Take Me to Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta
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Love Me Like a Motörhead
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The Blue Man in Black
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Then Play On with Kolors
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Biskusoksen, den jævern!
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The Boys Are Back in Town
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Only This and Nothing More
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Skoberdoink (Hallelujah!)
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Disability benefits on Mars.
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Disability benefits on the Moon.
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Get Dreamy
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Never Mind the Sex Pistols, and Nevermind Nirvana, Here’s the Mindsect!
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Eventyr i farger
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Ship of Fools
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Halolada (the globentrusk)
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Enklere får det ikke blitt. Å tegne etter meg er som å hoppe før Wirkola.
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Apparatus
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Skrukkedoink
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SKRIBLEKUNST
Skriblekunst.
Vondt-i-nakken kunst.
Det blir som med et hopprenn.
Det gjelder å satse på hoppkanten
og komme så langt som mulig innenfor et begrenset tidsrom.
Man stopper ikke på hoppkanten for å sitte
og pirke på Kollentåka i en vond stilling.
Nei,
man bare satser og lar det stå til.
Det kan være fint å lande på kulen også,
men da bør man kanskje
tryne
på en skikkelig uryddig måte
og ikke prøve så hardt på å lande
med fin stil
som hvis man skulle være så heldig med svevet at man kommer til bunnen av bakken
før kråka tar deg.
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Fact-Checking the Fact-Checkers
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The Young Artist Formerly Known as an Old Conformist vs. The Young Conformist Formerly Known as an Old Artist
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Du gjenfinner skyggen av Triztán Vindtorn i bakhodet og vikler han ut av stekepannen som en Gyldenløwe på barbeinte skyskrapere i din sommerfugls erindring
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Top Jimmy & The Rhythm Pigs
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Den du veit
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Øystein Wingaard Wolf recites a poem at Volapük in Oslo with a pig on his shoulder
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Flat Earth Spherical Fish Map
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The Rocky Hills of Hard Water
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The Snow is Whiter on the Other Side
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Prince and the Revolution
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Tomorrow Never Knows
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Red Pilled Magic Mushrooms
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The Travelers
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Dr. Molekyll & mR. NAno
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Ri, ri til fugleskjær
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Fish Crash in Glomma
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PAINTED WITH SUNGLASSES ON
There’s so many artists out there with sunglasses on.
They will pose next to their painting
with sunglasses on,
or they promote their latest record
with sunglasses on.
I don’t do that!
I’m not a celebrity.
I’m not a rock star.
I’m not Andy Warhol.
All I have is my art.
So, instead of posing next to my latest mouse brush stroke,
as if it was painted with sunglasses on,
as if I am a sunglass-painter,
I deciced to do exactly that!
I decided to paint with sunglasses on.
No retouching.
No overdubbing.
No second-thought-photoshop-cheating-editing,
after I took them off.
Nope!
Just the real thing,
as my inner nature intented it –
with sunglasses on.
*
Gode gamle Per er i skjærsilden. Det ser kanskje skummelt ut, ganske hett, men han har gode kontakter, et godt nettverk, og Per vet at han kommer til å klare seg. Han kommer til å gå videre.
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In the Flying Teapot with Daevid Allen’s Gong
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Digital Flowers on My Cyberspace Grave
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At the Bottom of the C
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In the World But Not of the World
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Rivjernspeletongene
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På øyeepleslang med Arild Nyquist
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Kanonadenes espaljetter
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Stalve ståltritt
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Night and Day
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Eleanor’s Rugby
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Bopping to The Pete Best Band
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Nature Poem
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The Walk of the Mountains
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REST IN PEACE
Don’t fear death,
don’t worry
about not being remembered,
the remains
of what’s left of your body,
won’t remember you.
We all get what we deserve,
in the end.
This life is perfect,
when everything is said and done.
With time,
it’s flawless.
The blessed and the cursed,
the loved and the unloved,
the winner and the loser,
the rich and the poor,
the missing
and the bereaved
in the cemetery,
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,
six feet under.
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Isn’t it good to be lost in the wood
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Aylega Fanduristisk
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The Fruits of Don Brego
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Ervaranske pedeletter
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Stilleben med skodellerte kladelusker
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The Two Faces of Bruce Springsteen’s Two Hearts
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Flowers of Romance
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Searching for Truth
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Stillehånd med 2snitt og 3snitt
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Portrett: Wunderbaum für Kong Harald och Dronning Sonja in Plupsenstadt
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Coming Through
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Den siste ballongkunstner
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John & Yoko in the Space Within Us
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Spinkel hudbuegrateng
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Before
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After
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Christmas Eve 1980. The LP’s “Double Fantasy” by John Lennon & Yoko Ono, “One-Trick Pony” by Paul Simon, “Guilty” by Barbra Streisand, “Slow Train Coming” by Bob Dylan, “Who I Am” by David Ruffin, and “Birth of a Legend” by Bob Marley and the Wailers was under the Christmas tree.
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På telttur i Nordmarka 1981 med barndomskameraten Erik Bjerck (1967-1989)
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På fest en gang på 1980-tallet. Muligens høsten 1984. Jeg synes jeg kan høre U2 i bakgrunnen. “Pride (In the Name of Love)”?
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På fisketur med fattern ute ved Uleholmen på Hvasser sommeren 1978
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My reaction after hearing The Beatles for the first time. “1967-1970 (The Blue Album)”, sometime in 1976.
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MORE BROKEN ENGLISH!
In thirty years, when it is no longer allowed to speak or write Norwegian, and all Norwegian literature has either been deleted or rewritten into what is considered a proper global English for then, like we now see a precursor to in 2023 with cancel culture and the rewritings of Roald Dahl books, perhaps my painting with this title will survive the censorship algorithms on the internet? If so, hello from the grave, 2053!
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Reflection
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The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades
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Spring
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Summer
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Autumn
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Winter
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Christmas
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THE BIG MUSIC
If you want the Big Music,
listen to Rachmaninov and Beethoven, people.
To Mahler.
Not rock music.
They had to write the music big,
the music is big already on the paper,
written for an orchestra,
because there was no electricity.
They could not turn the volume of an instrument up to a Spinal Tap 11.
Don’t go to a stadium concert with The Rolling Stones,
and tell me how big it was,
because the only big thing about it,
is your boner from watching men in tight leather pants,
wiggling their ass on stage.
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The Oy Vey! Landscape of the Pinjang Moon Kruodo
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Hobby Rock
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Nightswimming
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An Alternative Guide to halsbryterstafetten
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Die Kunst der orgelmørtelfuge
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AGE OF THE A$$HOLE
I find normal people (the normies)
of the 21st Century
so ugly (inside-out),
so repulsive (inside-out),
so meaningless, and unimaginative,
that it frightens me.
Their faces are so lifeless,
so spiritless, and empty,
but clean enough like a shiny rotten egg,
it’s a cage of conformism,
humorless, charmless,
when they enter the environments
as poison, and pollution,
in everything they say,
in everything they do,
just by being there,
it’s so locked down,
buried neither dead nor alive.
Everything I draw,
everything I write,
wells up in me
in opposition to the modern people
of now
that I don’t want to be like.
I run like hell,
when I write and draw,
to escape their boxes,
to escape from the prison
that it is
to be in their (lack of) presence.
To free myself
and my train of thought
from their one-way streets,
from their bulldozers,
from the threat that they are
to my inner life,
and outer life.
I’m not saying I’m better,
I just hope I’m different,
whatever it takes!
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Heaven’s in Here
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THE ESSENCE OF A 21st CENTURY FREEDOM OF RHYME SPEECH
I finally found the essence of a 21st Century person.
Twitter (X) has reinstated shadow-banning,
but insisted that they are not reducing freedom of speech,
they are only reducing the freedom of reach.
You are welcome to talk,
but will turn the microphone off,
if they don’t like what you are saying.
And that is the essence of a 21st Century psychopath.
People who twist the truth
to keep the cool that they think for themselves
in their twisted mind
that they possess,
so that no one can accuse them of being the prissy, uncool,
narrowminded, embarrassing piece of rotting decay
that they actually are.
And that is the essence of a 21st Century narcissist.
And with the smartphone and the internet,
the days when you dressed up in your 9-5 uniform
to go to work,
and then took it off, to be yourself,
when you came home,
are over.
And that is the essence of a 21st Century idiot,
a 24/7 clerk,
a 24/7 conformist.
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Headache by the Numbers
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Psyched Up
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To the Music of Wassily Kandinsky
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Flat Earth Clues Around the Globe with Mark Sargent and The Flat Earth Society
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Walking in the Mountains of My Imagination on a Package Tour with the Almighty God, Our Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ Our Savior, and the Holy Spirit, a Divine Force
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The Beauty of My Death
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The War of Art
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Tankekjør i natten
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Just Another Night
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X
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Are You Observant?
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The Wanderer
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After Breakfast
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In the Heat of the Morning
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Vojlada Pirola
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Close-Up
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