Back to Leave Again

I’ve been gone for a while from this blog. Thank you for noticing. You know what I’ve been up to? Nothing. Literally. But I’m (NOT) going to continue to write about my songs that I know that you all absolutely listened to, probably. Most likely not. I know you didn’t. I tried to do a series of blog posts explaining my songs but I only made two, then I paused to do nothing, as mentioned already. So now I’m back wreck havoc in this blog world.

Actually, I’m in Italy right now so I will probably ignore this blog until I get back to Sweden. Live with it.

Arrividerci, bitch.

8448 by Andreas Blaustein

Here is my album called 8448. Listen and enjoy! Further down the page you can read more about my vision for 8448.

Technically, this is a political hip hop album but that description is only scratching the surface. It is absolutely influenced by political events but it is not about them. 8448 is about how I feel about the political events. It has left me with feelings like anxiety, hopelessness and fear. I’ve been obsessed of thinking about horrible possible outcomes of the present. Thoughts that has only fed itself up for every passing day. While trying to manage all these thoughts and feelings I also have a job to worry about and, even worse, a regular life to maintain.

None of this has been easy.

There are two books that has helped me better understand the world. Those two books are 1984 by George Orwell and 48 Laws of Power by Robert Green. Just by looking at the titles of those two books I think you can figure out how I got the idea for the title of my album. While working on 8448 I have been able to vent all the rot inside me and transform it into something positive. Something meaningful. Something I know that so many other people also feel.

Andreas Blaustein

Rant Mode: Queuing Up

Hello my beautiful (remember my last post) readers. I hate you all and I hope you know that. I just had to state that fact before we continue.

The other day I was waiting for the bus. It was late so me and some other people waited for a long time. In a very swedish fashion they all started queuing up, even though nobody told them to (a behaviour I just can’t respect even though I do it too). When the bus finally arrived people started entering. When I was about to enter, a lady said ”We’ve been waiting for a long time and I’m freezing, can I enter before you?” I think she must have forgotten that this is Sweden during winter time.. BITCH, THE WHOLE FUCKING COUNTRY IS FREEZING, WHAT MAKES YOU SPECIAL? YOU’LL BE ON THE BUS IN LITERALLY TWO SECONDS! I got so mad that I dropkicked her right in the fucking neck. Her head exploded and ninja-cowboy-aliens appeared to feast on her flesh and I’m of course lying, let’s continue the story.

I did the only thing I could do which was happily lettin her enter before me while hiding my hatred underneath a fake smile. I’m swedish after all and that’s what we do. I thought that maybe she wanted to get a good spot in the bus or something, but she chose the shittiest spot ever. The spot reserved for parents with strollers and handicapped people in wheelchairs. How the fuck can this idiot expect me to respect queues when she doesn’t respect handicap/stroller reserved seats? IDIOT! That’s when I walked up to her and smashed her head against the window until it all broke and I threw her out of the bus and I’m lying once again.

Wait. I’ve lied twice already but they say three is the charm… Oh yes, my little puppets, this whole post has been a lie. That lady didn’t ask me to let her enter before me, she asked the guy in front of me. Thanks to her a ton of people walked on to the bus and the corner seat in the back, which is my favourite seat, became occupied and I got so ANGRY that I had to write a blogpost about and lie to all of my one readers. YES I HAVE ONE READERS, SO WHAT? IT’S ABOUT THE PASSION, NOT THE NUMBERS!

Anyway, now you know my story of how I ended up sitting somewhere else in the bus than where I usually sit. Traumatic shit.

Burning Faggots

I need you people to understand that the word faggot used to mean firewood. It used to mean literally wood that you put in the fire as fuel. I also need you to understand that J.R.R. Tolkien, who wrote the holy scriptures The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, used the word faggot in the older definition which we now know used to mean firewood and nothing else. Can you imagine reading a sentence in The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings and a lovable character is said to throw a faggot in the fire? Actually, if I remember correctly, I think it’s only the lovable characters who throws the faggots in the fire. And there’s nothing wrong about that, I don’t even know why I’m making such fuss about throwing faggots in the fire. That’s where faggots are supposed to be.

Anyway, I’m going to listen to Frank Ocean now, he’s one of my favourite singers. Then I think I’ll watch the live version of Eminems’ classic song Stan, because this version features Elton John in the chorus and he makes the song amazing. By the way, do you know which one is my favourite character from How I Met Your Mother? It’s Barney because Neil Patrick Harris played Barney so well. I think I’ll watch an episode of How I Met Your Mother before I go to sleep.

Also, Ian McKellen is gay and I love him.

Bye.

Snakes in the Grass

Hey, Hello, Hi, What is up, When, Who, How, Where.
What a refreshing way to greet you all isn’t it? Even if it’s not I will continue to greet my readers in this way. Except that I really won’t because it’s too much work for me to do it. It’s way easier to say Hello. And it’s more fun to say Fuck Off. So my official greeting might become Fuck Off. Who knows ? I don’t. Do you? NO. Exactly. Shut up.

Today I will do something for you that’s never been done before on this little blog. Probably because it’s an extremely new blog but let’s just forget about that. In this post I will write you all a nice short story. I am a failed write so it’s an obligation to write short story stuff on a blog no-one reads–I mean that everybody reads. Anyway, here’s the story!

”The Drum That Nobody Drummed On”
By The Caveman

Once upon a time in Snakeland there was one brown drum that stood one meter tall. His name was Jameson. He had never felt like he fit in because he never got a long with the other drums. When the snakes of Snakeland drummed on him he could not resonate the right sound that so many other drums could do. Sure, it was hard for other drums too, but they always managed to practice and get the right sound. All the drums had practiced and found their sound by their twenties. Jameson was now thirty-five years old, and still he had not found his true tones. Worries began to seep into his mind and he felt desperation take hold of his every though. What could he do? All the other drums had mothers and fathers to teach them and the richer drums even had a snake mentor that could help them become professional drums. Jamesons parents had left him because they did not want to live in Snakeland anymore. They left their son a note saying ”This is Cratp and Junerah, you parents, and we hate it here in Snakeland. It’s impossible to lay in the grass on a sunny day, or any day actually, because that’s were all the treacherous mafia snakes are, you know the ones called Snakes in the Grass. They always try to sell us bananas and we always fall for it. They are just too good at manipulating us. We don’t even like bananas. Who the fuck does? Anyway, Snakes in the Grass are too powerful for us and we have no money left because of them. The reason we are leaving you behind is because you need to defeat the Snakes in the Grass so that we can come back and live in peace there. Or something. Bye!”
This only made him feel twice a failure. He could not find his right drumming sound and he could definitely not bring down the all too strong Snakes in the Grass mafia. They basically ran all of Snakeland through corruption and manipulation behind the scenes of politics. It’s a perfect system because it’s always the balloons that gets the blame.

One day Jameson met a snake who wanted to drum on him. Jameson felt worried but he thought ”Maybe this is when I find my drum sound?” and let the snake drum on him. Anyway. As the snake gently tapped his tail on top of Jameson he seemed surprised. His taps were very smooth and almost untraceable. Jameson had never encountered this kind of drumming before. All the other snakes always banged their head on top of him and slithered away feeling disappointed. This snake did the exact opposite. He was not at all rough, only used his tail and seemed satisfied. Jameson could not think of any reason why because it was the same old stupid drum sound he always generated.

”You are a very special drum. What is your name?”
”Jameson. What’s so special about me?”
”Have you ever heard about the dancing note?”
”No. What’s that?”
”It’s a note that make all the snakes have a seizure. It makes them twitch and writhe in such a way that makes it look as if they are dancing to a hardcore dubstep beat. You can find that note and destroy the Snakes in the Grass. It’s your task.”
”What? How do you know–”
”Jameson! Don’t drum fast, like the others. Drum super hard and at a slower pace. Eventually you will find your sound.”

Before Jameson could say anything more, the wise snake was gone. After this encounter Jameson went home and practiced his drumming. He tried to slow it down and drum really hard instead of going super fast like he had always done. He did this for days and days. He even forgot to go to his car job, where he pretended to a car for white people to ride through the town. On the fourth day, he drummed so hard and so slow that a new type of feeling arose within him. A fire he had never in his life felt before. Jameson wanted to fight and throw his head a round in a wild… dance. He had found the dance note! He did not know how he knew it, but this was the dance note!

That same night he went to the meadow where Snakes in the Grass had their headquarters, and he started drumming. Nothing happened. He kept going, even though it was hard to muster the strength that was needed. Suddenly, the members of Snakes in the Grass started to jump up in the air and they twitched so beautifully. The wise snake from before did not say how pretty the dance would look, but oh, how beautiful it all was. When all the snakes were dead the wise snake reappeared.

”Jameson! I am obliged to tell you what happened to your mother and father.”
”How do you know?”
”Because I know stuff, idiot. They are dead. They died years ago. And you did all this in vain. The other members of Snakes in the Grass will search for you and kill you. I don’t understand why you didn’t gather all the Snakes in the Grass in one place before doing this. You made everything worse. Thanks. I’m out. Bye!”

Jameson felt so disappointed in himself that he started drumming the super hardcore beat again. This time, he drummed so hard that he felt his soul slowly shatter. Soon, he exploded and was never again seen by any any living snake, drum, white person or balloon.

Do you support Donald Trump?

Hello my readers… I will tell you a story now. A story of how one can accidentally damage their very own cause. The inescapable time has come to talk about Donald Trump, since it’s already too late not to talk about him because he won the election. Actually, I’m not going to write directly about him, I’ll talk more about one of the reasons that he could even get elected.
I live in Sweden and we have our share of racists just like other countries. The last couple of years I have seen and heard many people publicly oppose racist groups and the groups still grows.

Why?

The reason these racist people managed to become so well known and climb the ladder is mainly because of other people, and I’m not talking solely about their own supporters. What I’m talking about is the people who oppose these racists. Those people, me included, are all scared that the undoubtedly wrong people will come to power. But when the opposition constantly either talk about the racist groups and how bad they are and/or are joking about them all the time, the opposition is in many cases being counterproductive. The cliché expression ”No publicity is bad publicity” is very true for the reason that if a name is in circulation it means that the name still gets attention which means that at least some people listen to the name and depending on how many people really are listening the the name it will determine the power of the name. You could be Adolf Hitler himself or even ten times worse than him but if nobody listens to you, why does anything you say even matter? As long as you spread the negative names in vain they will always have a chance for power. It does not matter that their name is widely hated, what matters is that their name is widely known.

I applied what I learned about racist groups in Sweden to the US election. During the campaign people were talking endlessly about Trump. All the things he said, all the things he did, his appearance, his racism, his supporters, everything. It’s understandable that all these things became so talked about because everything about the Trump campaign was so extremely bizarre and unreal. It stopped being a political campaign and it became a show which led to people never taking him seriously. Everyone ended up denouncing him and joke about him. Just imagine though, if you yourself was a Trump supporter. Is it not true that you would be offended by someone ridiculing the candidate that you trust so much? And when you do get offended, is it not true that you would love Trump even more than before? If you don’t believe me, change the name Trump with the name Obama and run the same example. If a white supremacist ridiculed Obama it would only strengthen your love for Obama. So if a liberal democrat ridiculed Trump it would only strengthen their love for Trump.
When people on social media posted anything that the Crazy Ol’ Trump did they also spread his name. Probably to people that didn’t even know that they liked Trump and if that post reached people who already did like Trump, their support only grew.

How much do you know about Bernie Sanders and how much do you know about Donald Trump? I can say for myself that I unfortunately know more about the latter because I have not been active enough in searching for information about the former. Just like literally everybody else. That’s what happens if you only follow the new hearsay from social media. Also the news.

When it comes to the news though, it’s slightly different. They have a certain obligation to report who is running for president, who is the presidential candidate for a party and who is elected president. This also means that the people have a certain obligation to know propaganda and manipulation when they see it so that whoever is running for president, who is the presidential candidate for a party and who is elected president isn’t someone who is flirting with dictatorship and tyranny.

The cold hand of Death

Sorry I didn’t write anything yesterday but I have a pretty good reason. I almost fucking DIED! Yes! Death almost caught me yesterday! I mean, that wouldn’t have been much of a problem but I wanna die in a cool way. I want to fall from somewhere high (for whatever reason) and pretend that I am flying the seconds before I turn into some kind of pulp as I hit the ground. You might ask why I’d rather die like this and even if you didn’t ask I will answer your question. Just imagine the acceptance you would have to force yourself to feel, since you can’t stop yourself from falling to the ground. You will have to decide to either panic your pants shitty or just accept your oncoming death. Considering that we’re talking about the last moments of life, I’d rather accept what would come. And that’s why I’d like to die by falling from somewhere high and pretend that everything is great and cool and awesome before hit the ground.
About yesterday though, when I almost died, there was a car and the driver didn’t see me because it was kind of dark but he managed to stop like half a meter before he hit me and then I cursed at him so much that I am not sure if he rolled down the windows to apologize to me or curse at me, I didn’t really hear what he said. I just kept cursing at him as I walked away and then I was fine and everything was fine.

Actually let’s talk about cars, traffic and pedestrians. I hate cars and people who drive cars. They are the worst people ever. There’s something about cars and traffic that brings  out the worst in people. Drivers just seem to be angry all the time and I think that it’s because many people drive to and from work and a lot of other places which causes them to be stressed because everyfuckingthing in traffic is stressful. I just think that drivers are unhealthily stressed about everything all the time and that’s why they are so mad at all the other drivers. And when it comes to pedestrians who try to cross the road, I think it is more the drivers fault if he or she hits anyone. I mean, cars weighs ALOT and they go extremely fast and that calls for incredible responsibility from the driver. We’re all basically driving death machines that could easily kill anyone. Well, I don’t drive the death machines. I don’t even have a driver’s license. Yes, I’m a twenty-four year old with no driver’s license, so what? I made a fucking song about it what the fuck did you do? And yes in that song, that is by the way not even done yet, I say that I’m a twenty-three year old with no driver’s license, which makes that statement not 100% factually correct but still, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?
Anyway, I say, if you cross the road you have to look both ways and all, which is why the driver has to be one hundred times more observant. Also, jaywalking is a bunch of propaganda and stuff or whatever and I will let Adam Conover explain it in his video about this very subject because I’m way too lazy to do that. I like to complain, not explain.

Here’s the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AFn7MiJz_s

Wow, what a wonderful performance Mr. Conover gave us. I’m so glad I that my job isn’t to know a bunch of boring facts. My job is to curse, bend the truth and display my mental fallacies. I feel very… presidential.