Return to Sweden

It's been four days of adventure in Sweden, with Ben, Erin and I going on an all-shopping, all-drinking, all-pagan-festival rampage through Stockholm with the able assistance of our Viking friends. As soon as the plane touched down I realised how much I miss my adopted home (not least because the air is breathable and the water not caustic), and vowed to return more often -- and eventually, for good.

The pain was helped by a 'spontanfest' on Day 1, with Drakenbergsgatan once again the scene of much instant 'welcome home' partying and our guests subjected to the very selective and reptitive playlist of Irina and I, who apparently held the party at our mercy and forced everyone to listen to The Sounds and Sahara Hotnights as we reminisced over our traditional 5am dancing sessions. (Neither of us were surprised to hear this. There is also an embarrassing video to prove it but so far it has not surfaced on YouTube).

On Valborg we attempted to see Ludvig's girlfriend Emma sing in the firelight before enjoying a nice bonfire. Unfortunately, due to an over-eager consumption of tapas, we were too late to hear anything but one song (I tried to take the blame so that Ludvig didn't get slaughtered but Emma was far too smart for that) and there was no bonfire, only a series of large candles. So once again we resorted to the spontanfest, where at least 10 people showed up with various delights, including a bottle of mysterious Thai whiskey called Hong Thong (see Anders and Ludvig's enthusiastic reaction above). Mysterious but not distinctive - when the Hong Thong ran out, Carl (of Sailor Party and Cocktail Party fame) and I replaced it with cheap brandy and yet still the fervour continued.

The other great hit of the evening was Kaisa, a dog who strangely and suspiciously resembled Carl's previous dog although the former had only one eye and three legs...I will leave that mystery unsolved...

By the time we reached the airport, Ben, Erin and I were seriously considering throwing our boarding passes in the bin, faking our own deaths and starting a new life as humble Swedish cafe-owners. But we had to make do with a large bowl of noodles upon arrival in London, and the promise of many more Scandinavian adventures - with or without Hong Thong.

Scary Puppets

There are not many things I hate about Sweden, but these puppets really scare me. There is a general obsession with puppets or 3D characters in Swedish advertising, including a particularly scary one where you see an innocent woman lying in bed and then she rolls over... and a horrible 3D man is snoozing peacefully between her and her husband, looking suspiciously like he wants to spoon with the unsuspecting couple. It's the stuff of nightmares.

Anyway, the picture above is my personal horror. That woman is utterly creepy. The animated commercial is part of a series (which always seem to involve champagne - it's kind of creepy in itself, this little parental couple that seem a bit stuck in the 70s prancing around their house like Mrs Robinson from The Graduate bestowing champagne on their innocent -- and much younger -- visitors...but I digress). The second ad in the series had the "woman" above, who I see now is apparently called Gunilla, proclaiming the miraculous effect that Com Hem broadband had on her life. "We get everything off the internet!" she cries, "That chair, even Ziggy!" she points to her son-in-law, also a creepy puppet of course. And then, she breaks into a laugh that is so utterly horrifying in an inexplicable way that even David Lynch would be scared. "HO HO HO" she says, holding her belly, looking at her family's inexpressive plastic faces. (Irina has dared to impersonate that laugh in the kitchen and nearly got a bowl of pasta thrown at her head for her troubles).

To add insult to injury, Com Hem has managed to get my name out of a database somewhere. The other day, as if they knew that I cowered under a blanket every time that ad is on TV, they dared to send me an envelope featuring a LIFE SIZED photo of one of those puppets' befreckled faces (not Gunilla at least, but her deranged looking son). The thought that those puppets could have a head as big as mine, and bodies to match, makes me cringe.

I stuck the picture to Irina's bedroom door. It's still there. Which might be scarier than the puppet itself.

UPDATE:
Once again the lovely Ludvig has come to my assistance. He also hates the "in bed" guy mentioned above. Ludvig tells me the scary character's name is Robert. Ludvig has a theory that Robert is the true subject of the Avalanches hit "Frontier Psychiatrist" -- the bit where they say I'm afraid that Dexter is criminally insane. ("They keep saying Dexter, but I'm sure they mean Robert," says Ludvig). I have found the mysterious Robert, screenshotted him from his elusive background, and pasted him here for easy identification. Now tell me, would YOU sleep with this...man??



P.S. The ad is menacingly called Robert in your whole house. By their own admission, even your kids aren't safe. We warned you.

SECOND UPDATE:

I forgot to say that my allergy to Swedish advertising-puppets has one strange exception that defies medical logic.

It's these guys. I think they're cute, the way they scrunch up their little noses. Oh no, they've finally beaten down my defences and got to me haven't they?

Linus the Penis

As I prepare to say "vi ses snart" (see you soon) to Sweden, I am going to document as many of the things I love (or love-hate) about it as much as I can, in no particular order. This guy is one that's not necessarily top of the list, but sure is unique. (He goes in the love-hate pile). Now he is actually called "Linus the Line" or something, but I have to say that I'm not the only one (I hope) who thought he kind of resembled something else. He's a strange animation that pops up on publicly-funded television and encounters various um...obstacles revolving around ...ugh...a line, making noises reminiscent of cold-war era Eastern European claymation series that we used to get on ABC television in Australia in between episodes of "Astro Boy" and "Inspector Gadget". You can see my problems fitting him into some kind of theoretical socio-economic point in animation's evolution. That's all I can say really. You have to see him for yourself!

BREAKING NEWS: My friend Ludvig tells me that Linus is actually Italian. ...Explains a lot. However, he has been on Swedish TV since the 70s. Also explains just that little bit more.