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JOURNAL

NOVEMBER 2019





Once again, I’m reading six books simultaneously. I will never learn.



  


The crocodile chained inside Crockett’s yacht was one of the dumbest ideas of mainstream television.



  


Some of the raindrops falling on that metal railing sound like strummed banjo chords.



  


The weather in Southern Finland is nothing but unmitigated torture from November to April. Grey, cold, dark, and wet. Like living in the rectum of a refridgerated corpse.



  


Finally, back with Ballard.



  


If Beethoven told me that jazz is ”not music”, or that rock is ”despicable”, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.



  


Rebecca Ferguson is fantastic in Doctor Sleep.



  


The workers of Finnish Post are now on strike. This strike might make living without mail difficult, but nevertheless I support the Post workers wholeheartedly. I find it extremely disturbing that we're living in a world of extreme capitalism and exploitation where workers — without which there wouldn't be any business at all — are not entitled to a living wage, while robber barons and their minions are rolling in cash.



  


There's a slippery slope ahead of me, again.



  


One of the worst aspects of social media is how it has given a loud voice for unintelligent human trash who have nothing constructive to say. I still can’t understand what kind of a degenerate writes derogatory comments about someone’s physical appearance on IG, for example.



  


Don't let me down, Mike.



  


The Passage was frustratingly similiar to The Stand in terms of the writer’s over-reliance on biblical cliches. The protagonists are basically reduced to pawns in a game of divine chess without any free will. Are there any American epic fiction writers who do not feel compelled to shove Christianity down the throats of the readers, and use god as a a cheap plot device?



  


Several nations are going down the toilet right now, and the people can blame only themselves for voting the corrupt criminals into power. The reason why democracy doesn't work is that most people are unintelligent and gullible fools who are eager to eat any poisonous swill offered to them by populist politicians.



  


A big house cleaning taking place here.



  


Driving here, driving there, driving everywhere.



  


The unintentionally hilarious "fake Jeeves" accent of the recorded announcer voice on the local trais.



  


There's a possibility it just might work.



  


I still think that past is a wilderness of horrors.



  


Cold November rain not detected. Just cold. And that is good.









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