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Feb 8, 10:27am
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Space Ship Atlantis in orbit
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Feb 8, 10:27am
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Feb 6, 12:20pm
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We had severe weather in Memphis this afternoon and evening. There are fatalities and the damage is widespread. I took a few pictures before the blaring sirens forced me inside.
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Feb 4, 9:16pm
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Shelby Farms in October
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Feb 4, 2:15pm
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Feb 4, 2:14pm
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A Prime Minister was shot, murdered, while he and his wife were walking home after having visited a movie theater.
The impact on the society is hard to exaggerate.The shock, the disbelief that this actually could happen.
For a while it seemed that all layers in society were unified, sharing the shock and grief, mourning with the minister's family, an edifying feeling in the middle of the tragedy.
Soon, however, the questions began to arise; who had done this and why? Was it the act of a single, evil individual, perhaps a disturbed mind or was it part of something bigger, something more threatening?
Was it the act of some terrorist group, who would in that case be the next victim? Had the prime minister covertly dealt with some foreign powers? If so, what else did the public not know?
From nowhere, it seemed, this police chief, or whatever his title was, emerged with his theories and his reports on progress or lack thereof in his investigations. His grim face while he was showing a revolver, allegedly the same kind as the murder weapon, appeared in every news cast, on the first page in every newspaper.
He became the "strong man", the person whom everybody looked up to in search of security and safety during those very chilling and frightening times.
From his reports and his speculations the attention was directed abroad, to a certain terrorist organization. The police chief felt strongly that he was in grave danger and organized an enormous entourage to protect himself and his closest associates.
Other theories existed, but where not favored. For instance, there was a witness, himself a person with a shady past, who claimed that he could identify the assassin as a "colleague" in the criminal world.
This somehow seemed too simple and the investigations into the leads to foreign countries continued unabated.
The lack of progress lead to demands from the public and the press that this other lead, pointing towards a known criminal should be the prime target. This person was identified and arrested. In a confrontation the prime minister's wife identified him as the killer. He was convicted.
Later, due to some mistakes during the investigation, the man was released, but I think a majority of the people still believed that he was the killer. The following years were a bit bizarre, concerning this person. He gave interviews, where he admitted his guilt, only to withdraw his confession some time later. He was not a stable man, a drug addict and with some brain damage, which no doubt had an impact on his psyche.
The minister's wife never doubted that he indeed was the murderer.
Slowly, this insight settled and the actions of the police chief I mentioned and his nearest came under scrutiny. From these investigations a picture emerged of a small man, who had grabbed the opportunity to be and feel important. He might not even have been aware of this, he probably firmly believed in his theories, outrageous as they were sometimes.
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Feb 3, 8:11pm
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Mississippi River at its' best
However, if this is the scenery, my best advice to you is: Go home! Turn on the air conditioner at max. Come back in October, when the smog has lifted and the temperature is reasonable.
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Feb 3, 8:58am
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Feb 3, 8:58am
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Pictures in the following segment are copied from a pdf file at stromstad.se [stromstad.se]
Entering the time Machine
Landing on one of the many thousand small islands in the Bohuslan archipelago always puts me in a very relaxed mood. I gather driftwood along the shore, light a fire and wade in the water and collect a handful of these mussles.
Their intrinsic saltiness is perfect, just put them on a stone next to the fire, let them sit until they open up and the last water inside them has boiled off. Still hungry? Get some more. I would take them before oysters any day. Just make sure they are growing on a stone or sandy bottom, where the water is clear.
I can walk around the whole island in less than twenty minutes. Where the beach is a bit more sheltered from the prevailing westerly winds I find low bushes and some pine trees, bent into reluctant submission, but not capitulating to the harsh conditions. Summertime this is paradise. The shallow water warms up to 70 degrees, not like the tropics, but it feels very nice to take a few minutes' swim.
 I take my boat to another island. Here I find traces of human presence, a fairly big house stood here some 150 years ago.
How did the people make a living out here? The Herring came in enormous amounts in periods back then, tons of them, literally. Quite an industry followed the herring, what couldn't be used for food was cooked until the fat separated and gathered on top in gigantic cooking vessels, where it was skimmed off and sold as fuel for lamps. Or for lubrication, or whatever use one could find for it. The remains in the cooking vessels were either dumped back in the sea or spread as fertilizer in the fields. Dare we guess that the stench was next to unbearable?
 Epidemics hit hard during the fifteenth century. This ring of stones is a grim reminder of a cholera epidemic that swept over this part of the world. The victims were buried out here, not to spread the disease further. Nobody knew that microbes existed back then, even less that they were the cause of the epidemics and not the dead.
I sit down in what once a very long time ago was a neighborhood out here, some three miles from the mainland. I believe these people were quite comfortable, comparatively, they certainly enjoyed fresh air and freedom and there was plenty of food in the sea. They probably kept a few cows and some sheep, too.
One final picture before I turn home, two small houses, I dare guess that they belong to a well off family who uses them during the way too short summer months.
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Feb 3, 7:49am
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