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[16 Jun 2005|09:26pm]
I've been pretty busy. It's not much of an update, but here goes.

I'm dating a girl, Rebekka. At first we were just friends. I enjoyed spending time with her. We went out to eat, listened to metal, and went to black metal concerts. I guess I just fell for her, so we began dating last May. I know it's too early to start mapping out our relationship, but it's going really well.

Speaking of black metal, I've joined a local black metal band, Angtoria. I'm pretty sure there's a symphonic metal band out there of that name from the UK. Yeah, so TRY and not get us confused. I play guitar. We've released one EP thus far with me as apart of the band. It's called Divine Misanthropic Madness, so grab it if you ever see it floating on blackmetal.com or wherever.

A lot of people ask if I miss the states or not. Well, it's not so much as I miss the states, really, it's that I miss the people. If everyone could somehow move to the northern Europe area, I'd never give a second thought about America.

I was in a car accident a week ago. I barely escaped with my life.

It was a fender bender.
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[01 Apr 2005|07:20pm]
I met a girl. A girl I actually find interest in who isn't Samantha. As you can plainly see, hell has NOT frozen over. Not to hit you all with two surprises, count 'em two, tonight, but she's not southern European. She's actually half Swedish, half Finnish. Imagine that.

That is all. You may now pick up your shattered remains.
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[07 Feb 2005|11:10pm]
I'm thinking about moving to Arvika. I'm sure everyone's wondering when I'm actually going to settle down. I think it's coming to an end. I mean, sure, I dragged it out, but things are actually falling into place. Getting back to Sweden was my number one priority. I'm finally here. Spending time with my siblings and family once I got here. Done. Now it's time to, well, get out on my own. Sure, I love spending time with my family. Having a huge family is one of the best perks I've ever known, but I am twenty-two believe it or not. I supported myself in the states and plan to do the same over here.

I've met a few, I don't know, "BMers" since I've got here. It's a nice change of pace from America. I even met a few girls, most seem to be shallow and two-faced. That's not much of a change from America. No, no one equals up to Samantha, but I didn't expect any of them to.

There's actually a few guys living in Arvika who I met through a mate of mine, Andreas, who want me to play in a black metal band of theirs. Yeah, I play guitar, but I've never seriously thought about playing in a band. But I suppose it would be good for me. It would give me a better excuse to move and I could play with these guys who seem really passionate about their project.

I'll definitely think about it, but not for too long or I'll begin to stall. Then I'll be sitting in Sundsvall (which is not bad, really) five years from now still wondering whether I should move or not.
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[04 Jan 2005|03:49pm]
Happy new years and all that good rubbish, huh?

Absolutely nothing new to report here. Actually, I don't know even know why I'm updating. Yeah, weird.
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[16 Nov 2004|04:47pm]
I've been asked alot (especially when I lived in the states) why my name is Jack. The rest of my siblings have common Swedish names and I have a blatantly obvious English name.

Well, my parents went to Essex, England on vacation when my mum was pregnant with me. While there she kept worrying my father, saying that I was going to be born early. Two months early actually. He just dismissed it as an overly emotional pregnant woman rant. A few days went by and she kept bringing up. It worried my father a little bit as neither of them wanted me to be born outside of Sweden. They ended up leaving the fourth night they were there and the morning after I was born.

So they laughed about it. They wanted to give a little ode to the country that I was almost born in.
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[22 Oct 2004|07:15pm]
Nothing spectacular has really been going on. I'm still glad to be home. The incident with Colista has been cleared up. I visited Virginia not too long ago only to cause horrible drama between Samantha, Darien, and I. All in all, things have been calm.

I'd like to take a weekend to Denmark soon. I have an irresistable urge to constantly travel as long as I know I can return to Sweden once that urge passes over. I also have a few cousins living down there I wouldn't mind meeting.

For now, I won't be going anywhere. My Grandmother is ill. She means a great much to me. She is what I believe a Grandmother should embody. Her heart is warm towards her family and friends, she upholds tradition, full of wisdom of life in general and our religion. She loves her nationality and race and shared that with the rest of her family. While I lived in America she constantly tried to help me keep my roots. And of course, I lived with her and my Grandfather, whom I'm not so fond of, for five years. She brought me up through my teenage years and instilled the beliefs I have now in me.

She's really not that old, but she is quite confident that her last days are upon her. She asked me not to weep for her, and I won't, but the sorrow will be apparent. Gudrun, or Roza as we call her due to her absolute love of roses, owns a good portion of my heart, and though I want no generic sympathy from anyone, I realize it will hurt no matter what preparation is taken.
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[07 Sep 2004|09:31pm]
So Colista gives me a call. Odd, I know. Of course making the background story as short as possible, I visited Colista in Greece when I visited last May. She's, uh, not a girl I would ever date or settle down with, but she was good company none the less. I assumed the visit went well and thought she was really great, but, well, maybe she wasn't the girl I thought she was.

She's pregnant and accuses me of, in her own words, "helping out".

Call me crazy, but as far as I knew, one had to have sex with her before she could become pregnant. And once again, call me crazy, but...we didn't. Nor would I ever with a girl of her morals.

I'm not too worried about it. I know what happened in Athens and having sex was not one of them. Though she told Darius and Miles that I was the father. That leaked to my uncle and I'm sure he'll be calling my parents. It's a fucking crock of shit, I know, but I'm trying to keep calm.

I'm a very honorable man. I would never stoop to anything like that and it bothers me that some people may percieve me as that now. I'm sure my parents will know that she's a lying whore, but it still gets to me because it didn't have to happen. I thought she was a pretty nice girl. Her morals were pretty loose, but I realize that not everyone adheres to honorable conduct. I looked passed it, but...

Fucking ragh.
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It took a while, but... [21 Aug 2004|09:09pm]
I can't find the words to express how it is to be home. It's been a long journey, but I finally came back.

My parents moved me from Sundsvall to America when I was six. We lived in Wilmington, Delaware with my father's mate from back home, but eventually moved to Richmond, Virginia. I lived there until I was about nine or so. My parents then decided they wanted me to move back to Europe. And you know what? I never understood quite why.

Father assured me that it was for the better. He's never explained it to me fully, but I believe in my own theory. Svea and I were the only children born in Sweden. The rest were born in America. Svea never really missed home or was ever that attatched. I did, though. I believe my father saw that I embraced the white nationalist/paganism views my parents brought us up with. Svea never agreed with them.

Anyways, so they wanted me to live in Europe. My choices were my uncle who lived in Greece, my Grandparents back in Sundsvall, and a different aunt and uncle in Aarhus, Denmark.

I just wanted to live in Europe overall, so I chose to live in Denmark. I missed that part of the family, but Denmark was amazing. Svindsot and Saffi were wonderful to say the least. Amazing people. Fucking amazing.

Well, I lived there for about two years and then moved to Sundsvall with my Grandparents. I visited my cousins in Skellefteå and went to Norway occassionally in the Summer. I love traveling and alot of people ask if I tired of it. Of course not.

I lived there until I was sixteen and then moved back to the states with my parents. I saw them alot in between though. So, I moved back to Virginia. Two years later my parents decide to move back to Sweden. I moved back with them even though I had become slightly attatched to Richmond by then. I stayed there for a year, but then decided to move back to Richmond.

I stayed in Virginia for about two years. I realized I needed to go home. I needed my roots and to be with my people. And here I am.

I wish more Europeans would go back home.
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A little more than a week [10 Aug 2004|01:39pm]
Luckily Samantha's mom is coming to visit her for her birthday on the 21st, so we can still say our goodbyes on the 20th. I don't need to say I'll miss her. She knows. Everyone else should know as well. I wish I could gather her up and take her to Sweden with me. Maybe one day.
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On the Twenty-First... [28 Jul 2004|06:08pm]
You guys don't know how excited I am to just see my home again. I guess I'm a bit nervous too. I haven't seen my siblings in a few years. I've seen Svea and Micke, of course, but my family is big. I haven't seen Håkan, Peter, Trind, or Kiersten in about three years. I can't even begin to count the uncles and aunts I haven't seen.

I look forward to seeing Trind. She married right before I came back to Richmond, and her husband was a Frenchman whom my mum hated. I think she wasn't too happy that he wasn't Swedish anyway. Not to mention he didn't go along with the blonde hair and blue eyed trend the family seems to have. But I think she was going to give him a try anyways, but he was a complete idiot. It was pointless to attempt to like him. My mum just thought of it as some fucktard taking away her daughter, of course. I'd like to see how that drama has unfolded.

Svea has an idiot of a boyfriend too. What is it with the Sjöström girls? Luckily Kiersten is too young to fuck up yet. Though, I guess she's just being mum. She's not expected to like anyone her children bring home unless they're absolutely perfect. Though, she adores Samantha, so I guess there's something she's looking for.

I'm hoping to work with my father and live at their home for a while. It would give me some time to spend with the youngest since I haven't seen them in ages. Once settled, I may move in with Ave and her husband Anton. They've been great BM mates since as long as I can remember. Though they live in Vaxjo and that sorta defeats the point of moving to Sundsvall, I guess. It just seems too far.

It's all up in the air for the time being. I'll see what happens when I finally get there.
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Västernorrlands Län [27 Jul 2004|01:39pm]

Pudelns kärna. I'm going home.
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[14 Jul 2004|09:14pm]
"Vad var det då som lockade i den totalitära ideologin? Förmodligen just det allomfattande, ett tankesystem som hade tvärsäkra svar på precis allt - och jordmånen var ungdomens fallenhet för det extrema, renheten, det totala uppgåendet, utforskandet av extrema sinnestillstånd, brådmognadens öppenhet för genvägar till lycka, vare sig dessa utgörs av droger eller ideologi. Det var förstås också hormoner, okunnighet, brist på livserfarenhet och en allmän upprorslusta mot vuxensamhället, som dessutom lätt kanaliserades in på en del ämnen och missförhållanden som stack i ögonen, undervisningen i skolorna, Vietnamkriget, Rhodesia. Att engagemanget också började utsträckas till ett bekymmer om arbetarklassens väl och ve kan kanske tyckas något långsökt för ungdomar som till största delen var studerande, men enligt Marx var det ju arbetarklassen som var den revolutionära klassen. Dessutom hade gruvarbetarna i norr påbörjat sin strejkkamp 1969. Denna och en del andra strejker uppfattade vi som tecken på att den generellt revolutionära situation som Marx och Lenin talat om sakta började närma sig.

Maos metaforik slog säkert an för att den var exotisk och appellererade på samma sätt som indisk filosofi och meditation lockade andra grupper. Ordföranden var en rorsman. Atombomben var en papperstiger. Och där fanns narraktiga gamla män som försökte ta bort berg.

Maos lilla röda blev den fetisch många bar med sig, och dessa citat som ofta rörde internt partiarbete användes plötsligt som en trollformel som man trodde skulle kunna övertyga oinvigda. Kulturrevolutionen inspirerade också i Sverige till en del mycket extrema rörelser, t.ex. Rebellrörelsen, som t.o.m. fängslade och hotade avrätta egna medlemmar som inte följde disciplinen.

Gemensamt för oss som deltog i någon av dessa extrema vänsterrörelser var nog ett slags storhetsvansinne, en paradoxal omnipotenskänsla fast sekterna var små, där berusningen inför ökat antal sympatisörer aldrig gällde något så futtigt som ett riksdagsval, utan Vår Historiska Uppgift. Vi kände oss som vetenskapsmän som bara gjorde oss till tolkar för den obevekliga utvecklingen av klasskampen. Revolutionen skulle komma lika säkert som vattnet blev ånga vid 100 grader Celsius, då kvantitetens ökning, som Stalin och Engels sagt, inte längre kunde fortgå utan i stället övergick i en kvalitativ förändring - vattnet kokar.

Det studerades flitigt, marxismens klassiker, grundcirklar och partitidningens ledare diskuterades alltid, så att man skulle kunna föra ut en enhetlig linje och argumentera för den. I början tyckte jag det var lite märkligt att studiefrågorna i grundcirkeln alltid var ställda "Varför är det riktigt att säga att ... ?" i stället för "Är det riktigt att säga att ... " Men jag vande mig.

De flesta av oss var under tjugo, med ett oerhört ungdomligt allvar såg vi oss bära historien på våra späda axlar. Samtidigt hade en sorts självkritisk humor utvecklats, som dock inget såg utan snarare hjälpte till att förblinda, den bäddade in och mildrade löjet i våra storvulna ord. Man kunde t.ex. med ett litet skevt leende säga "jag var ute i går och tog en öl med politbyrån". Man kände sig betydelsefull och komisk på samma gång. Eller man kunde vräka ur sig något med Kommunistiska manifestets svulstiga ord om hur borgarklassen dränkt det fromma svärmeriets heliga rysning i den egoistiska beräkningens iskalla vatten. Då kom det där lite generade men beundrande skrattet igen. Det speciella språkbruket odlades också i de egenfabricerade texterna: "Gnistan, MF, Folket i Bild-Kulturfront tillhör nu tillsammans med Stormklockan och Röda Arbetet de rännstenar, vilka för det kälkborgerliga slaskvattnet till den kapitalistiska kloaken", står det om brytningen inom KFML i utbrytargruppen KFML(r):s kongressdokument från 1972.

De som gick med i någon marxistisk organisation för att de ville göra uppror mot auktoriteter blev förstås grundligt besvikna - eller ändrade åsikt. Och ingen kan ju heller påstå att målet, proletariatates diktatur, skulle vara någon sorts gräsrotsrörelse.

Många menar att socialismen spårade ur redan med Lenin. Hade man bara hållit kvar vid Marx och Engels mera humana lära, hade de senare "misstagen" aldrig behövt göras. Men allt finns egentligen att läsa redan i Kommunistiska manifestet från 1848; författarna framhåller nödvändigheten av såväl våldet som diktaturen. Det är rätt mycket man måste ta avstånd från, om man vill bli en demokratisk socialist.

Mitt sista demonstrationståg gick jag med viss motvilja i 1975. Ännu 1981, när jag recenserade musik i en dagstidning, var fobin mot att delta i någon form av kollektiv yttring så stark att jag var den enda i publiken som satt ned när violinisten Isaac Stern fick stående ovationer i Stockholms konserthus. Det tog ungefär 10 år innan jag åter förmådde läsa utrikessidorna i tidningen - allt som pockade på politiskt ställningstagande och engagemang var outhärdligt. Ignazio Silone, som tillsammans med bl.a. Arthur Koestler skrev boken "Vi trodde på kommunismen" (The God That Failed, 1950), menar att "det finns någonting i [den kommunistiska erfarenheten] som stannar kvar och lämnar ett märke i personligheten, som kvarstår hela livet."

Hur andra gamla vänsteraktivister innerst inne ser på de där extremiståren på 60- och 70-talen, kan jag naturligtvis inte säga. Själv kan jag inte se dem i ljuset av vare sig den härliga gemenskapen eller de spännande olagligheterna eller "samma sociala patos då som nu". Jag kan inte ens se perioden som en nyttig men dyrköpt vaccinering mot totalitära tendenser. Den är och förblir en skamfläck.

"Ingenting är sorgligare än när en illusion dör", skriver Koestler i "Vi trodde på kommunismen". Fast döda illusioner är egentligen bara det näst mest sorgliga. En illusion som överlever och under sin fortlevnad förslavar och förtrycker människor är ännu sorgligare."

I thought it was interesting. The author, Karl-Erik Tallmo, has written a lot of good articles.

Yeah, and Micke is testing my patience like the bastard he is. Soon enough he'll be out of my hair, I guess.
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Holy shit, you can actually see my eyes... [26 Jun 2004|09:29pm]
I need to know some way to gain weight in a healthy fashion. I'm 6'1" and 195lbs. I'm built slender. My whole family is. I don't build muscles, they only tone up. I'm healthy and toned because of working all the damn time. I'll probably try that high calorie, low fat diet shit and then hit the gym.

I'm sick and fucking tired of idiotic skinheads. Who know nothing about their race, heritage, or NS. They walk around in their drunken rage giving white nationalist a bad name. They tell everyone about their aryan supremacy, but act just like every other colored moron out here. Sleeping with anyone who ends up in their bed, corroding their body with alcohol, acting like some hardass wherever they go. Good job, fucktards, way to represent white europeans.

I don't mean all skinheads. Although I've never understood their, I guess, "culture", I have nothing against a true white nationalist. I embrace them, but not when their giving us bad names. I never encountered a skinhead in Sweden. Only until I came to America. They're a bunch of redneck idiots with no ideals or direction. I did go to Germany a few years ago, though, and met a few skinheads. They were much more cultured and laid back. They looked the part, but had a much more respectable demeanor.

Micke is still here. He's been hanging out in the spare room for the time being. I haven't seen him much. I'll knock on the door occasionally asking if he wants a bite to eat. Not much else. Luckily our cousin, Toril, is coming over from Hudiksvall to help out and try to decide what to do with him. I wouldn't mind seeing her either. I haven't seen her since I was seventeen, I think.

And some other stuff.

I just bought some contacts too. I don't need glasses, but they act as sunglasses, so I don't have to wear those fucking shades ever again. You don't know how good this feels.
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Prophecies of Aryan Moon [21 Jun 2004|01:29pm]
Family is a funny thing. My young brother, Micke, has been the biggest burden on this family. Our parents taught us to always keep family close at hand because they were the most important things in life, so we hung in there with him. Bullshit. He is the biggest jackass slacker ever. He leeched off my parents until he turned nineteen when he was forced to move out by my father. He's used Svea to no end and has asked me countless times to move in with me. I know I'll end supporting him and his drug habit, so I obviously decline.

Well, that was until yesterday when he shows at my apartment at 3:00-ish in the morning. Somehow he flew from Sundsvall, got his ass kicked at the airport, and made it to my apartment. Well, at least he's determined, I guess.

So now I'm housing the little bastard until we decided what to do with him. Svea volunteered to take him in as she's going to move to Maryland soon to be with her mistake of a boyfriend. We're trying our best to keep that from happening as Micke will use her until his dying (or her) dying day.

That girl I met in Norway in January, Cybele, is coming to visit in July. I hope it's not just for me as she seems too serious.

I bought Sons of Zeus when I went to buy Lucy's graduation present. Fucking awesome.
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