Archive for the ‘Language’ Category


I won’t be long. Today on the tram home from the University, I overheard some children talking. They were noisy and right behind me, it was unavoidable. Oh the horror. Anyways, amongst their talking, they used such phrases as “I not likes”. This got me thinking:

I was lucky. I learned English before the horrid age of internet humor wrongly spelled. Cats that wants to has a cheezburger, for example. So I consider my English pretty good. Nowhere near perfect, but pretty good. But do children that grow up today, amongst lolcats and other internet banalities with lingual errors, get confused and struggle learning proper language due to it?

As such

The comment-fields at youtube could certainly suggest so. I am glad I am not going to become an English teacher after all.

As Eddie Izzard would say, ciaoooo.


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I just realized that it is not always easy being a Norwegian in an English mans world. For instance, one of the great vices of Norwegian people with half a grasp of our beautiful language is the dividation of words. Oh the hilarity which arises when people split a word that wasn’t meant to be split.

Why am I rambling about this? Well, brussels sprouts is the correct way to write it, as confirmed by THE ALMIGHTY WIKIPEDIA, HAIL! Alas, my silly Norwegian head twitches and wants it to be written brusselsprouts.

Now, I bet you’re thinking, why is this guy talking about brussels sprouts? Well, in about 10 hours, my plane leaves for Brussels. Oh glorious EU-capital and home of countless bureaocrats.  I am leaving, ooon a jetplaaane tralala. Well, my brotha lives there, so I’ma go visit him yo.

Brussel, Belgia: The recently renovated Atomium...bring your camera at night!

These aint no brussels sprouts.

That’s it for this time.

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The title of this post sounds more emo than it is, I promise.

For the past week I’ve had the best sleep in a long time. The feeling of being somewhere new, doing something for myself which feels right, the air, everything! And yet, this one night when I need to sleep because I have to go to school in the morning, because I didn’t go today, because I had a political thing to attend, this is the night that my head chooses not to be the least bit tired.

Sure, my body is so fatigued it probably wouldn’t support me if I decided to get up and try doing some kind of exhausting activity, and my brain and cognitive functioning is probably at the point of forgetting simple balance and grammar. (Oh, by the way: I’m taking a linguistic class now!) But my head, also known as my mind, is running around in circles around my brainstem, pointing and laughing and probably even flipping it off, if my mind is the kind to have hands and fingers of its own.

So why is my mind so awake when the rest of me wants sleep? I wish I knew. All I know is that it happens from time to time, and it is no fun at all. I’m yawning, my eyes are hurting, I start feeling sick, but I still close my eyes and lay completely still and nothing. Just pain, the feeling of sick, weird thoughts and psychedelic night-like terrors such as the mental image of worms all over my body, or king crabs everywhere on the floor. And this keeps me awake.

Hopefully, if your mind works the same way as mine, now that you read about it you won’t get to sleep either due to the images of the crabs and the worms and their flesh-eating tendencies.

Sweet dreams!

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The word means so many things to so many people. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, prose, a long novel, a porno with a plot… But to me, above all else, literature is a means of escape.

Fiction is my drug of choice when something unpleasant, stressful, or downright miserable happens in life. Opening a book and getting lost in a world where things are more magical, romantic, but most importantly different is a wonderful way to deal with distress.

The interesting thing is, there was a point in my life when I simply didn’t read any books outside of school textbooks. I’d say it started sometime in high school and lasted up until a few months ago. I realize now that I didn’t read because I was fairly content with my life and had no need to escape into another one. As of late, I find certain aspects of my daily life incredibly taxing to my poor nerves (this message brought to you by Jane Austen) and so have rediscovered my love of fantasy. I am currently re-reading The Lord of the Rings series- already finished The Hobbit and am nearly done with The Fellowship of the Ring- and I find myself thinking about the alternate universe of Middle Earth throughout the day. For example, last evening I saw a small murder of crows flying above my house; I thought to myself, “Could those be crebain from Isengard?” Now that, my friend, is powerful (also somewhat sad on my part).

Seriously though, isn’t it amazing how truly powerful literature is? We all succumb to it eventually, if we’re lucky, and it forever holds us in its powerful grip. It influences our society in ways we’re not even consciously aware of!

Well, now that this entry has taken a disturbingly cheesy turn, I think it best to conclude with a question:

What does literature mean to you?

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My eyes feel as if they are going to fall out of my very head. I have spent hours upon hours desperately searching for worthy articles to help me with my most recent assignment of  writing a paper about “Racial Stereotypes in Crime Television.” See, the problem here is that I don’t friggin’ watch any crime television! Therefore, I am taking knowledge (with proper acknowledgment of course) from any-and every-one who has observed said topic. The other problem is that my paper simply refuses to take a specific direction. To focus only on African American stereotypes or to focus on all minorities? To do a timeline layout of stereotypes in media over the years or to simply talk about specific shows and their impact? And that’s where the research comes into play; I thought maybe I could get some direction based on the articles I found. Unfortunately, every article I read is a god damned 15+ page dissertation which my tired and inept brain simply will not process! Whatever happened to the short, entertaining articles written at an elementary school level to disguise the plethora of valuable information within?

Oh, I also just recently had a bug crawl up my arm which made me freak the fuck out, and now I keep feeling imaginary creepy-crawlies all over me. Will this night of terror ever end?! Actually yes- yes it will- for I am going to declare temporary surrender to my paper and fall into a sleep filled with nightmarish dreams about due dates, paper cuts, and racial stereotypes in crime media.

Peace out, sauerkraut.

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