Oslo: Sunday the 6th of July, 2003


These were the first words of all
the Goddesses spoke to me —
”You shepherds of the Wilderness, poor fools,
nothing but bellies,
We know how to say many false things
that seem like true sayings,
But We know also how to Speak the Truth
when We wish to.”

— Hesiod, ca: 500 BC.



... oh shit: life is not easy, but it’s easy …

I’ve been living in Oslo for a year now; since April 2002. I worked in a kindergarten for three weeks, then I lost that job and I’ve been unemployed since then (September 2002) … but I’ve been working: at the Blitz cafeteria, among the punks and the freaks (like myself). I’ve been imprisoned twice (for being a fool and for being a political activist), They'll be dragging me to court in November. We’ll see …?

The western world is at war with the people of the middle east, and I do not like it: it’s plain for everyone to see: it’s Modern Imperialism. Norway is right in the middle of these developments (we’re an oil nation, you know). Our rightist government supports the USA and the UK. We are still dropping bombs at the people of Afghanistan every day. Innocent Iraqi people are being killed by American, British, and Polish soldiers every day. In the name of a ”justice” that I do not believe in. George W. Bush is the Adolf Hitler of the modern world, and Tony Blair is his Mussolini; Vladimir Putin his Hirohito; Ariel Sharon his Franco. It’s World War III. Questions arise here: What’s the master plan? They will never tell us the truth. The CIA knows exactly who I am, but I don’t care at all, because I am not afraid to die (Onwu-atu-egwu). These people deserve opposition, and if noone else here in Norway wants to oppose them by every means available to ordinary people like myself, I will do it myself. I’m not all alone, I know, but I’m afraid we are too few around to make much of a difference: and they’ve got the police, the army, and all these security agencies … all working together, all against me and my good cause: the common good of all people, and not only of the people who owns all the money and control all this planet’s natural resources. So please, Mr. President or Dear Prime Minister: Please go ahead and kill me. I am not afraid to die. But if I do die … Mr. Prime Minister: you will have made a legendary man and some classic figure of me. I'm only joking: we will never see a Norwegian policeman shooting a demonstrant, now will we? Well, I have yet to throw a stone at any glass-house anywhere near the Royal Norwegian Castle ... and as far as I know, there has been no usage of armed force by the activist side of this dilemma of yours: HOW TO MAKE THESE RIOTS AND BIG PROTESTS STOP OCCURRING? Well, it's summertime in Norway: we've paused. Or have we, really?

Yes. Nkeiru. I’m very, very angry. And I write angry stuff whenever I find myself seated at a computer. I write for the alternative (mostly anarchist) press most of the time, although I've tried to have material be published in ordinary newspapers as well: it doesn't work out, so I'm still the moneylacking bastard as I always were. I guess it's all about my opinions being way too brutal, and my stories of the sort that's not supposed to be told: there's a war going on, you see, and the main-stream media has a vital role in it. Party politics have nothing to do with this matter: the official media's propaganda is more systematic now: the official truth has these limitations, you see: this truth needs always to inform the general public of the urgent need for concervation of stability and the ever-lasting power of a kind of democracy that is fucked-up, but sold as the only real good thing out there. And really worth fighting for, no matter what ...? You know? Or do you still believe this thing only goes as a fact in Nigeria?

I don’t know: Nkeiru, my life is a fucking mess, and it’s been a fucking mess for year upon years now: I do not know how to lead a life that is close to ”normal” — whatever that means? I mean: ”Normal” — beats me. I mean: Nigeria. Norway. Lagos. Oslo. Me. My lovely daughter. My former wives: one an Igbo witch, the other a bitch from the middle of Norway (no-where). She lives with an American Army-dude: a lieutenant in the US Marine Corps. Ho! And I’m an anti-war activist. Jesus Motherfucker! My daughter must be one of the little girls in this little country with the most interesting stories to walk onto life with.

But I’ve got a lot of friends here. So there is nothing to worry about. Honestly. But I don’t know how to go about explaining myself to you in any simple terms.
I throw dice at Henrik Ibsen’s tombstone, and I hope that it makes effective juju for myself, so that I get my books published and everything turns out fine in the end. But I do not know the future. Who does? As it is now: everything is an opening both to greatness and self-destruction. Believe me: I know.

Yes, I care about the people of Iraq and the people of Afghanistan: now these fucking Norwegians are sending 150 troops (men at arms) to Iraq. To indulge in so-called ”humanitarian efforts” sweeping up mines for the people and the British forces: the whole time under British command ... they will be camping at exactly the same spot as British occupation forces are camping; they will be sharing food and equipments with them, and they'll all be very chummy with the SIS-agents among them … the Iraqi people will have no reason to perceiving the Norwegians as anything else than another group of occupying soldiers. I’m looking forward to greeting the first Norwegian body-bag with a cheer: welcome home: in a few weeks time. I’m very angry with this government of ours: PM Kjell Magne Bondevik is in fact a priest of the Lutheran Church: I say: Fuck him! The American administration consists of Christian Zealots in its entirity: I say: Fuck them! suit-and-tie Murderers and War Criminals, all of them: George W. Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, Paul Wolfowitz (a jew like Ariel Sharon), Condoleeza Rice, Dick Cheney, Tony Blair, Vladimir Putin, Kjell M. Bondevik and the rest of them. Fuck them! All the things they are doing in the name of God and Nation. God’s true name is Dollar for sure. And the Nation in question is the U.S. fucking A., no matter if the troops are US-Polish, British or Norwegian …

Seriously: Do fuck them hard!

— — —

P.S.:

I know that you might think that I’ve gone crazy now, once and for all. I can assure you: you are not alone in believing so. If you do.

My political activities: Nobody expected me to react like I did in March, when this war really started to escalate in the Middle East; the U.S.-Americans and the British deciding to topple Saddam’s Iraqi government. Nobody — within my family and among my friends — expected me to declare war on my own Norwegian government the way I did; and with such a vengeance. It’s the saddest thing: My mother was convinced: I had gone completely mad; this is what she thought of me. I don’t know the reason why I am telling you these things, Nkeiru: maybe it’s because I want to be honest with people — whoever they are, and where on earth they happen to reside. Oslo or Lagos: it’s the same thing to me: namely HOME, as a matter of speech. These places mean something to me, whatever it might be: love and hate, I suppose … and it goes for the two of them. Earth is my Real Home. You should know. Because I am a fucked-up person and quite a bit of a Stranger:

I indicated this previously: The CIA knows everything about me now. Oh, I know a few people who are being frightened for the fact that the CIA knows everything there is to know about them: but I see no reason to be frightened … why should I be frightened? … are they going to come and arrest me for being angry at the government’s policy of war for control over the oil resources or what the fucking hey they are all down there fighting for? Hm! That’s interesting, I dare say. But it might be true what a friend of mine pointed out to me: ”You know: they might decide to put you away in a Psychiatric Ward. So be careful, pal.” But how can I lead a sort-of normal life if I am constantly going to concentrate on keeping my mouth shut and all my good opinions to myself all the time? Nope! I can’t do that. So if they want to come and put me away: let them do that: I know it’s in their powers to making such a decision … and what the Hell can I do about that? Not a thing, not a thing: except, maybe, write an article for some free press agency; this way tring to tell these stupid people — the general Norwegian public — about it. Hm! It’s interesting: We’ve got one real political prisoner in Norway now; namely Mullah Krekar: a Kurd oppositional leader from Iraq — Because the fuck and the American fascist government is convinced the poor bastard is a terrorist leader. Now they're keeping him locked up in prison for months and months witout trial, claiming still to be investigating him. I don’t know: maybe in a month or so the Americans will tell the Norwegian Minister of Justice to take action against me or some friend of mine, for whatever the reason they might want to pick for themselves: so we’ll be fucked then: in the name of democracy and this infinite justice, I might add: that’s what they called the war on Afghanistan: Operation Infinite Justice. Oh, and Norwegian troops are still there, by the way: that's one war that will never come to an end; never mind the story, as it goes: "The war on Iraq is all over now." Only iraqi people get killed now, every single day: not ordinary soldiers.

But there is no reason to worry about me. Whatever happens, happens. That’s what I say — and I mean this: You can no longer ever tell the future: anything can happen: anything. But we still haven't had any bombs exploding in the capital of Norway: what the fucking hell are they waiting for?

Well, I do trust the islamic freedom-fighters and so-called ”terrorists” more than I do NATO War Mongers. The ”terrorists” or the legal resistance, as I prefer to call them, are HONEST. And whatever you prefer to do: you just can’t call Kjell Magne Bondevik and the rest of them very honest.

AND GREET GEORGE WALKER BUSH WELL, WELL WHEN HE ARRIVES IN YOUR TOWN. If you're at all being allowed to even try to?

Fare thee well, my dear.