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Alex

Alex Akesson


Last Updated: 11/6/2009

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Gender: Female
Status: Single
Age: 33
Sign: Taurus

City: Gothenburg
Country: SE
Signup Date: 12/16/2005

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Blog Archive
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Sunday, November 15, 2009 
 The New Adventures of Stephen Fry http://bit.ly/4v6vyR
Friday, November 06, 2009 
Martian landscapes http://ff.im/-b5WAZ photog from Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter
Thursday, June 04, 2009 
I just bought a silver Piaggio Liberty! http://home.xtra.co.nz/hosts/joelett/liberty.jpg
Currently reading:
S Is for Space
By Ray Bradbury
Monday, May 18, 2009 
Saturday, May 09, 2009 
Currently reading:
The God Delusion
By Richard Dawkins
Monday, May 04, 2009 

Drinking water which contains the element lithium may reduce the risk of suicide, a Japanese study suggests.

Researchers examined levels of lithium in drinking water and suicide rates in the prefecture of Oita, which has a population of more than one million.  The suicide rate was significantly lower in those areas with the highest levels of the element, they wrote in the British Journal of Psychiatry.


The Japanese researchers called for further research in other countries but they stopped short of any suggestion that lithium be added to drinking water. The discussion around adding fluoride to water to protect dental health has proved controversial - criticised by some as mass involuntary medication.

Currently listening:
Gone
By The Beasts of Bourbon
Release date: 1997-08-22
Thursday, April 30, 2009 

Winter's over. Summer is just around the corner. That's as good a cause for celebration in Sweden as any, and the revelry on Valborgsmässoafton - Walpurgis Night- on April 30th gets pretty heated. Intensely so, actually, as massive bonfires up and down the country honour an 8th-century German abbess, St. Walpurga, or Valborg in Swedish.


Despite its modern links to Christianity, Valborgsmässoafton, which has been celebrated in Sweden since the Middle Ages, is one of two Swedish holidays which still resemble their pre-Christian merrymaking. The other is Midsummer.

The original pagan festival heralded the onset of the growth season. It attempted to ward off evil, ensure fertility and cleanse the land of the dried and dead of winter. Today, it is still the accepted gateway to long and warmer days.

What happens at a typical Valborg brasa or bonfire? Bundled crowds of optimistic Swedes warm themselves facing the blaze. Mischievous children feed the fire with anything flammable they can drag and toss into the flames.

From: The Local - Swedens news in English

Currently reading:
The Witches (New Windmills)
By Roald Dahl
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 
I got a magic new number. Contact me in the hedge fund capital of the world; Hartford CT.

Currently watching:
Frontiers [DVD] [2007]
Release date: 2008-07-07
Saturday, March 14, 2009 

Only now do we see how each crossroads
was bound to throw up not just a cross
but a couple of gadabouts with goads,
a couple of gadabouts at a loss

as to why they were at the beck and call
of some old crock soaring above the culch
of a kitchen midden at evenfall,
some old crock roaring across the gulch

as a hanged man roars out to a hanged man.
Now bucket nods to bucket of the span
of an ash yoke, or something of that ilk…

Now one hanged man kicks at the end of his rope 
in another little attack of hope.
Now a frog in one bucket thickens the milk.

II

Now a frog in one bucket thickens the milk
as it tries out for the sublime
from chime to birch-wood chime,
a frog thrown in with no more thought as to whilk

way he was geen
from the hussy turned resourceful housewife
than she gave to where in Ayreshire or Fife
her beloved spalpeen

might fetch up as a tatie-hoker,
a tatie-hoker revealing a lining of red tatted silk
to his sack-cloth, so to speak,

just as it’s revealed our stockbroker
is creaming off five hundred a week
while the frog in one bucket thickens the milk.

III

Now a frog in one bucket thickens the milk
as a heart might quicken behind its stave
at the thought of a thief who bilked
us of our life savings himself being saved.

Only now do we see… How spasm and lull
are mirrored somewhat by lull and spasm
when the nitwit roars out to the numbskull
thinking he might yet narrow the chasm

between his own cask and the other’s keg,
thinking he might take the other down a peg
if not leave him completely in the lurch…

Leave him to ponder if it’s less an ash
yoke tipped by his bucket of balderdash,
less an ash yoke than a cross-bar of birch.

IV

Less an ash yoke than a cross-bar of birch
from the single birch that insinuated itself into the grove
of oaks sacred to Jove
and took him in as from his perch

the nincompoop who’s churning our account
took in the other knucklehead
with the proposal that our aversion to being bled
is pretty much tantamount

to the old crock being averse to paying his ransom,
the bucket where you would search
for the significance of a frog taking the plunge

proving to be less cask than keg, the transom
from which the old crock offered his vinegar-sponge
less an ask yoke than a cross-bar of birch.

V

Less an ash yoke than a cross-bar of birch
and a birch-wood bucket where a frog breasts
the very milk we feared it would besmirch.
Only now do we see we’re at the behest

not of some old crock kicking the beam
but ourselves. We balk at the idea, balk
at the idea of a frog no sooner opening a seam
in milk than it’s… Surely not caulked?

Only now do we see how it’s ourselves who skim
determinedly through the dim
of evenfall with no more regard for our load

as we glance up through the sky-hoop 
than the ninny who roars back to the nincompoop,
“Only now do we see how each crossroads…”

Paul Muldoon

Currently watching:
Tropic Thunder - Single Disc [DVD] [2008]
Release date: 2009-01-26
Friday, March 13, 2009 
Oh that I was where I would be,
Then I would be where I am not,
Here I am where I must be
Go where I would, I can not
-Karen Dalton
Currently listening:
Roots of Nick Cave
By Various Artists
Release date: 2009-01-26
Wednesday, February 18, 2009 
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats

Well said in  "Equilibrium"
Currently watching:
Equilibrium [DVD] [2002]
Release date: 2003-10-06
Wednesday, December 10, 2008 
The article starts off with US resident Dmitry Orlov, from Leningrad, who has been living on a semi-self-sustainable boat in a form ‘bourgeois survivalism’ for 2 ½ years, riding a bicycle and skipping the TV.
After the downfall of the Soviet Union he learned a lesson for future reference: “When faced with a collapsing economy, one should stop thinking of wealth in terms of money.”
In his 2008 book, “Reinventing Collapse: The Soviet Example and American Prospects,” Orlov identifies the ingredients of what he calls “superpower collapse soup” — a severe shortfall in the production of crude oil, a worsening foreign-trade deficit, an oversized military budget, and crippling foreign debt.
“We don’t have a long wait before sail-based transport is the only option,” he said, anticipating dire environmental conditions. Should the need to raise chickens arise, Orlov and his wife will “set sail and relocate to a more rural base of operations,” where the boat, Hogfish, which has a flat bottom, can double as a trailer home.
In 2006, Orlov published an online manifesto, “The New Age of Sail,” where he writes that sailing has the additional benefit of providing “isometric exercise similar to a Pilates workout,” because of the constant jostling of the sea. “People who live aboard are rarely overweight.”
In a blog that he maintains, Club Orlov, he categorises his readers into three basic cultural categories;
1. “back-to-the-land types,” united in their opposition to industrial agriculture;
2. “peak oilers,” who worry about the shock effects on energy markets of reaching the maximum global crude-extraction rate; and all-around Cassandras, and
3. “people who sometimes derisively are called doomers.” (The doomers are currently enjoying a little less derision, which is a mixed blessing, because it is axiomatic among true believers that mainstream respect means that it is too late for anything to be done.)
Orlov has recently acquired a fourth audience, composed of financial professionals, who have been, as he said, “bolstering my gut feeling that the United States is bankrupt.” A number of them have placed orders for multiple copies of his book, and he took some pleasure in imagining them passing it on to their friends and families this past holiday season as a grim kind of stocking stuffer.
Also mentioned is Jim Sinclair and his website: jsmineset.com, on which he posts daily blitzes of commentary with headers like “What Happens in Iceland Doesn’t Always Stay in Iceland.”
Ben McGrath meets James Howard Kunstler, author of “The Geography of Nowhere,” and “World Made by Hand,” which is set in a small town north of Albany, where the residents have no oil, no coffee, no spices, no mail delivery, and only sporadic electricity, but marijuana cultivation is booming and they’re growing “buds the size of plums.”
Also recommended for dystopians are Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road,” and Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s best-selling book “The Black Swan,” about the inevitability of unforeseeable events.
“I’d say an emergency meeting of the G7 is pretty much the front entrance,” Kunstler said. “Although who would have thought Iceland would be the first to go?…… Capitalism and human ingenuity persist; it’s only the economic incentives that change.”
Kunstler likes to say that the United States has “a railroad system that the Bulgarians would be ashamed of,” and told a joke involving orders from the Treasury Secretary, Henry Paulson, to his underlings, to “buy the Dow,” in order to stave off consumer panic.
Three days after the Presidential election, in Montpelier, Vermont, at a convention of nearly two hundred “neo-Luddites, anarchists, socialists, freegans, steampunks, homeschoolers, folksingers, knitters and yak farmers”, Knustler called himself “an emissary from a place you may someday regard as foreign: New York State. . . . For the moment, we remain sister and brother states in a nation that is enduring a convulsion.”
He declared that the airline industry as we know it will not exist within forty-eight months, or by the end of President Obama’s first term.
These were people whose solution to the imminent death of the American dream was secession: a Vermont Independence Convention, sponsored by the Second Vermont Republic, a “nonviolent citizens’ network and think tank opposed to the tyranny of Corporate America and the U.S. Government.”
Also speaking were Chellis Glendinning, the author of “My Name Is Chellis and I’m in Recovery from Western Civilization,” and Lynette Clark, the chair of the Alaskan Independence Party,
The speeches were accompanied by comic and musical interludes from the Bread & Puppet Theatre, whose members wore bear costumes and danced around with plungers, and by the singing of the Vermont secession anthem: “It’s Vermonters to the lifeboats, this is a sinkin’ ship….”
Alex Akesson
Editor for HedgeCo.net
Along these lines I would also recommend reading: “Game Over” how to prosper in a shattered economy – by Stephen Leeb.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008 

With a brutal economic slowdown, 2008 may feel as if it will never end. Now the world's timekeepers are making it even longer by adding a leap second to the last day of the year.

Along with the economy, the Earth itself is slowing down, requiring timekeepers to add an extra second to their atomic clocks to keep in sync with Earth's slightly slowing rotation. So an extra second will be tacked on to Dec. 31 after 6:59:59 p.m. and before 7 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.

That extra second will make 2008 — already long with an extra day on Feb. 29 — the longest year since 1992.

Currently reading:
Deeper: A Novel
By Jeff Long
Thursday, October 23, 2008 

Some climate experts are now willing to consider schemes for partly shielding the planet from the sun's rays, such as putting sulfer dioxide in the stratosphere to scatter sunlight; using 1,500 ships, each spraying eight gallons of sea water a second to whiten existing marine clouds (and reflect more light); and a space-based sunshade at L1, the inner Lagrangian point, using solar sails with tiny mirrors to deflect light.

Geoengineering schemes fall into two categories, corresponding to the two knobs you might imagine twiddling to adjust the earth's temperature.

One knob controls how much sunlight—or solar energy, to be more precise—reaches the planet's surface; the other controls how much heat escapes back into space, which depends on how much CO2 is in the atmosphere.

Schemes for removing CO2 from the atmosphere, say, by fertilizing the oceans with iron, would strike closer to the root of the problem. But they would inevitably take decades to have much of an effect.

In contrast, a sunshade could, in principle, stop global warming immediately—albeit only for as long as it was maintained. Sunshade ideas thus address what some scientists see as the extreme urgency of the climate problem.

The geoengineering scheme Crutzen and Wigley both defend is the cheapest and most certain to work; it was proposed as long ago as 1974 by the late Russian physicist Mikhail I. Budyko, then at the Main Geophysical Observatory in Leningrad. The idea is to inject several million tons a year of sulfur dioxide (SO2) into the stratosphere.

There it would react with oxygen, water and other molecules to form minute sulfate droplets made up of water, sulfuric acid (H2SO4) and whatever dust, salt or other particles onto which the acid and water condense.

Clouds of sulfate droplets would scatter sunlight, making sunsets redder, the sky paler and the earth's surface, on average, cooler—everyone agrees on all that. In 1991 the volcanic erup­tion of Mount Pinatubo in the Philippines put 20 million tons of SO2 into the stratosphere, and it had all those effects: it cooled the earth by nearly one degree Fahrenheit for about a year.

"So we basically know it works," Caldeira says. In fact, Caldeira started modeling the idea nearly a decade before Crutzen wrote about it.

Currently reading:
The Road to Mars (A Post-Modem Novel)
By Eric Idle
Monday, September 22, 2008 
I never got my money, said the old women as her matress burned. The jihad stole my pani (water), I could have used that to stife the flames (the water, not the pain), eh.....

Anyway, the long lost will end up forgotten, said my uncle as he stole the matress filled with money that the silly old lady had kept stuffed.

The house was burning.

Who kicked over that old fashioned candle anyway....it wasn't recent, reasoned he...

I may have stumbled.

Finders are the old fashioned weepers.

Said the old lady's Mafia uncle in between the weeping and crunch time.

Poolside drowning babies are the knave of innocence.

Drooling fobiles are the wave of the future...........
Currently reading:
The Enchantress of Florence: A Novel
By Salman Rushdie
Release date: 2009-01-06