Grand Punk Railroad...late...

So yeah, the blog ain't nearly daily anymore. It's more "nearly weekly".

Who am I kidding, "nearly bi-monthly"...

But anywho, one of the news tidbits being overwhelmed by coverage of protesting truckers and private-jet-set MP's has been the resurgent discussion of some form of rail transport in the capital area. The two most mentioned options are for a train between the international airport at Keflavík and Rvk, as well as light rail throughout the city.

Now, I am allllll for this idea. It makes sense. Rail (especially electric rail) is one of the cleanest, most efficient methods of transport there is. But this piddling little plan pales in comparison to what I'd attempt, given a couple squillion króna and near-dictatorial powers (insert irony here).

I'd start by building a single line of elevated freight capable monorail from Keflavík, through
Hafnafjöður, Garðarbær, Kópavógar, Reykjavík, Móssfellsbær, and on up to Akranes, where said line would then head off into the scenic highlands for an express run up to Akureyri. After that, the system would begin to spread around the coast of the country eventually making a big bisected circular route linking most of the major and minor towns and cities of the country.

Why?

Because it could be run on a combination of micro-hydro, wind, and geothermal power, making it about the cleanest transportation one can get.

Because it could travel at sustained speeds of 150km or faster.

Because being elevated, and hence making use of pre-fab adjustable supports delivered by the train itself, it would be quicker than even road building (not to mention it could in many cases parallel existing right of ways) and have a minimal impact on the landscape, not to mention farmer's sheep. Elevating the train also helps solve the problem of heavy snow, and a train mounted around the rail rather than sitting on it is highly unlikely to derail, even in the winds that Icelanders like to use as an excuse for boring square farm houses without covered porches and under use of wind turbines.

Because it would cut down on accidents, injuries and fatalities, as well as wear and tear on the roads. It would be more reliable than air transport (prone to weather cancellations) trucking/busing (ditto, plus collisions), and seaborne shipping (weather, and lots and lots of oil, though I refuse to believe that with all the tech we've got today that an efficient and reliable sail-powered cargo ship is so damned impossible...).

It would draw tourists in like an strip-club across the street from an all-boys school.

It would enable people to re-populate Iceland's rapidly emptying country side without emptying their wallets at the pump and risking their lives on icy roads crammed with semi-trailers. It would improve prospects for domestic agriculture (pig and chicken farmers could still supply the methane for the truckers to deliver the goods to and from the freight yards) and light industry, who would have cheap and efficient transport to market.

And most importantly, it would be a major step in making Iceland the first sustainably energy self-sufficient Western nation on Earth. Which would be good for our economy, our security, and our image.

All three of which are being much-debated in the rook's house at the moment.

If I wasn't convinced that it would make me evil, I'd fuckin' run for Parliament for that.

Ring ring ring

So apparently my joy over the previously unknown internets at my domicile in progress was a tad premature. Like boobs on a five year old.

There's internets, but its a dial-up connection of the squishy-screechy telephone sounds variety that can barely load hotmail, let alone my blog.

Poop.

But other than that, things are looking up. At least for me. I love being right.

If I'd been blogging regularly up til now, you'd have all read a massive rant championing the squatting of all of the 57 some odd "abandoned" (read: Left to fall apart/be vandalized/burnt down because "undesirables" are living in them so that the owners can a)collect insurance and b) get away with tearing them down despite iffy permission and protest from neighbors and residents in order to build ugly glass yuppy cages). Thankfully, the times they are a changin' and at least one group has already taken it upon themselves to announce that squatting is not a form of theft, which has always been the Icelandic take on it, but a form of repossession, as the slumlord owners have forfeited their already dubious property rights to the building in question by simple act of abandonment.

More power to 'em! I say take all of the abandoned places over. With 20 square meter unfurnished basement rooms in commercial buildings in BFE being rented out for 70+K a month, I say take 'em over! Downtown could see a resurgence of culture. Reading rooms, galleries (not art retailers) concert spaces, co-op daycares, Free Schools, you name it. The economy may be in tatters (not really but who am I to swim against the rising tide of hyperbole) but this opportunity is manna from motherfuckin' heaven for those of us who's economies were already in tatters. Like Dr. Gummi said "Velgengi var diskó, kreppan er pönk!"*

Then there's the on-going brouhaha (or maybe its a brou-hehe) over one of the mp's comments about chicken and pork farming not being "real farming" and hence that the tariffs placed on imported chicken and pork should be dropped.

Fine. Let 'em drop.

The thing is though, the other current shit-fan over here has been the nationwide protest by professional truckers (as well as spoiled yuppies with penis-extension monster trucks and their spoiled yuppie spawn with their brand new fermingavespar**) over high fuel prices.

Now I'll leave it be that these protests, which have been shutting down the major traffic arteries around the country, have resulted in a few fines but no arrests, and in fact have been carried out with the co-operation of the police, whilst last summer when Saving Iceland shut down Suðurlandsbraut on foot they were rounded and roughed up and thrown in the hoosegow.

I'll leave that point be.

But the one and only fuel (aside from electricity) that hasn't gone up in price since the Fall of the Almighty Króna has been methane, which RVK uses to power its garbage trucks. Methane made from waste, produced locally (saving both on costs both the the environment and the budget) and funneling money back into the local economy at a time when international debts and deficit trading are causing the local currency to fall. Converting diesel engines to run on methane involves little more than switching the glow-plugs for spark plugs, adjusting the carburetor a bit, and installing gas-canisters in place of fuel tank, at which point these same truckers would be able to gas up for roughly half the price they currently pay.

And what's the best source of methane, you ask? Pig and chicken shit mainly. The same pig and chicken shit that is currently causing all manner of health and pollution issues out in the countryside. If converted to methane, the unfarmers would have a second cash crop as well as a cleaner (and if the use a methane/ethanol digester, sterile) fertilizer in place of their harmful runoff.

Problem solved.

Tomorrow, stay tuned for Sam's Grand Punk Railroad scheme.

*"Prosperity was disco, recession is punk"

**Seemingly every sixteen year old (or even much younger) kid in my neighborhood seems to have forsaken their clean and healthy (and oft-times super expensive) mountain bike for a fucking gas-powered Vespa.

Not dead.

So I chose a dandy time to quit 50% of my job. Just as I was finishing my last day at the school, bamm!, the króna drops 25% and the whole country starts freaking out about a recession. But truth is, I don't much care. I have enough. I even had enough to buy a new bike (remind to tell you about the fun it was putting together) so now I'm pedalling all over the place. I also just found out that after almost a year of living at my place that there is in fact internets. Who knew? Now I just have to figure if the connection can handle wireless...

Meanwhile I've been out in the garage trying to get it ready to take on a new role as laundry room so I can FINALLY install my kitchen, and enjoying the hell out of only working 4 hours a day.

I've got a world of blog built up, what with the "depression" and the slum-lording of RVK, and talk of installing Iceland's first rail system and lots and lots more, but I'm at work and the boss-lady wants her 'puter back....

My moment of fame....

The back of Bjarni's head might be on google, but mine's right here.

I'm back...

...and instead of blogging about the pressing issues of the day, I'm just gonna tell you all how my weekend went.

IT WENT AWESOME!

Seriously.

Best.

Fucking.

Weekend.

In.

Forever.

Started off Friday night, hanging out with the ever-delectable Eden, drinking beer and listening to seriously strange music from my ample collection of such, shooting the shit, chowing down on yummy pad thai from Krúa Thai (best Thai food in Rvk, after Ban Thai, but unlike Ban Thai, they deliver!) and generally having fun.

Woke up refreshed rather than hung over on Saturday, went and did some shopping, then helped Zunkel move into the 'hood, which involved alot of heavy lifting and sweaty manliness, especially when hauling the hardwood bookcase of doom up to the balcony.

Every now and again, its fun to shift heavy loads and grunt up inclines carrying heavy stuff. Makes for the feeling of manly.

After that, it was home for a shower, change into my punk garb* and over to Inaki andCo.'s for pre-concert beers and hard-core rock-out-with-your-metaphorical-cock-out moshing at Grandrokk courtesy of FRAEBBBLARNIR and others. It had been so long since I went to a punk show, and the five of us foreign punks made up for what we lacked in numbers (the place was packed) with enthusiasm.

The only thing that was slightly less than perfect 'bout the concert was the staid nature of most (but not all, kudos to those Fishylanders who jumped in the pit with us) of the audience, who seemed to think the whole thing was some sort of museum display, and hence only for looking at, not engaging in.

It was very cool that people from the band went out of their way to compliment our little crew and showing l'esprit de punk.

After hours of sweaty moshing (its amazing how long you can go when its good, its like the the Second Law of Thermodynamics takes a break and one becomes a perpetual motion punk) we cooled off with a walk downtown for kebabs and then beer at Belly's.

On the way home I went ass-over-tea-kettle on the ice, but thankfully I was too drunk to sustain any serious damage.

Spent Sunday recovering, then stopped by the Zunkel's for a chat.

I'm stiff as a board, bruised and battered, and can barely move my neck. I've got a side-walk induced goose egg, and some of the most random scratch marks I've ever sported. I have to work late tonight, have to start tackling my taxes and figure out how to turn in a ton of time sheets, and I've still got 4 days of school-hell to work and I'm working almost all Zombie Messiah Vacation.

I'm grinning ear to ear...

*Leather jacket stolen from work, plaid pants dumpsterdived out of a Value Village dumpster, old tee with my only stenciling, and spiked collar a friend lifted for me. The only things I paid for were the boots on my feet and my underwear.

PS: If anyone has pics from the concert please let me know!

Yes I'm still here.

But I'm suffering from the flu, lack of consistent internet access and an overload of things to blog about which has reduced me to an entry this feeble.

See ya next week.

Maybe.