Antropologiske betraktninger om pelshvaldrift

Month: August 2015

… der de er

Flyktningene fra Syria er for en stor del i Libanon. Som barn bodde jeg i Libanon i et halvt år. Det var det deiligste landet jeg hadde opplevd. Jeg har en masse lysbilder som min far tok, og jeg kan forsikre at de understøtter den dag i dag at Libanon var et deilig land.

På skolen hadde jeg lest bibelfortellinger, og mange av dem hadde skjedd nettopp i Libanon. Der var det høye fjell med huler hvor det enda bodde munker. Mye av landskapet var goldt – men i kløftene rant det bekker og i dype huler fantes det kilder.

Siden den gang har jeg lært at det var fra Libanon de flinke fønikerne kom. Fønikerne bukket under i en av de utallige invasjonene som har korsfestet landet helt opp til vår tid. Det var nemlig et sted som absolutt alle ville ha.

Landet er omtrent på størrelse med Rogaland fylke. Fjellene er høyere enn i Rogaland og kyststripen er smalere. Kyststripen har såkalt “milde” regnfulle vintre (sånne som blåser rett gjennom deg), men i fjellene snør det. Det er ikke noe særlig å bo i telt i Libanon i mange måneder. Selv ikke i norske telt.

Finansministeren må eventuelt investere i brakkebyer. Hun vil hjelpe 26 ganger flere mennesker der enn det regjeringen vil tilby husly i Norge. Det tilsvarer 208.000 brakker, som må forsynes med strøm til oppvarming (strøm er dyrere enn i Norge og mangelvare) og vann (som det ganske sikkert er mer av i Norge). I tillegg må det opprettes skoler og helsetjenester. Områdene må beskyttes militært mot angrep fra voldelige grupper.

Jeg vet ikke hvordan tomteprisene er i Libanon, men det jeg vet er at mens det bor omtrent en halv million mennesker i Rogaland, så bodde det i Libanon rundt 4 millioner i 2010. Siden er det tilkommet rundt 2 millioner syriske flyktninger. Jeg vet ikke hvor i Libanon finansministeren har tenkt å plassere 208.000 brakker.

Så lurer jeg også på hvordan finansministeren vil forklare for de libanesiske myndighetene at det ikke er plass til noen tusen syriske flyktninger her i Norge som er et av de landene i verden med lavest befolkningstetthet.

Dessuten, må jeg spørre hvordan finansministeren vil forklare for de svenske myndighetene – om det skulle bli nødvendig, for eksempel som følge av en naturkatastrofe – at det overhode ikke er aktuelt å la 2 millioner svensker slå leir i Østfold, Akershus og Hedmark.

Til slutt vil jeg få legge til at det ikke bare er for flyktningenes skyld at Norge må ta i mot Syria-flyktninger: Dersom Libanon kollapser, så blir situasjonen i Midtøsten enda mer antennelig, og vi bør ikke glemme at det enda finnes masseødeleggelsesvåpen − i praksis nesten over alt.

Floskeldirektoratet

Vet du hva IMDi er? Ikke det? Men du må innrømme det er et snedig ord. Nesten som Vex (eller burde det hete VEx?)

Integrerings- og mangfoldsdirektoratet. Høres bra ut, ikke sant? Og det har en flott logo. Velkommen til Norge, kjære flyktning, enten du er kommet fra det ene eller det andre landet. Vi håper du får det bra, og at du slipper å martres av fryktelige minner.

Jeg måtte i dag prøve å finne litt info på engelsk om kjønnslemlestelse og tvangsekteskap. Det var derfor jeg besøkte IMDi’s nettside. Øverst på menylinjen fant jeg “Engelsk” med et britisk flagg ved siden av. Jeg klikket på det og slik så siden ut:

IMdiJepp. Tom side.

Jeg må for ordens skyld legge til at det ikke fantes noen side på andre språk heller.

Dypere stakk altså ikke flosklene om integrering og mangfold.

 

 

Be happy + FAQ

I never understood the point of advertising. Oh, I’ll admit any day that if all my friends are raving about Vex – “and you know, it actually works,” – I might very well buy Vex regardless of what it’s for or whether I need it. But if some smooth humanoid that looks like Bambi pops up on my device and starts reeling off reams of pseudo-scientific twaddle about Vex’s riboneucleic effect on the peptic lumen of my wrinkles – not to mention if Bambi uses expressions such as “nature’s own” (in which case Vex is probably made of seaweed) – I’ll go and make a cup of coffee or turn off the device. Most likely the latter, because Bambi will be be sure to turn up again in the course of whatever it is I’m watching, and I won’t want more than one cup of coffee.

No, I never understood the point of advertising. Until now, that is. Now that I am actually paying a little attention to the ongoing election campaign in my country. (No need to look it up – just municipals, no big deal.) And now I finally understand the point of advertising.

You see, if you’re producing something you know will most likely not have the desired effect, you can’t let Bambi tell the public, “well, at least it probably won’t hurt you” or “it may stain your clothes”  or “be sure to bring an iron with you wherever you go”. With her gleaming unnaturally bright soft smile, she will – nay, she must – say that our wrinkles will disappear within 6 months, or that there is a 6-year guarantee or simply: no wrinkles. If you’re producing something that is essentially just seaweed or sawdust, your product’s survival hinges on your capacity to convince us, the public, what it is not, to wit: worth our money. Mind you, we, the public will be paying not only for the seaweed and the blender, packaging, pectin and chemical preservatives but for a bevy of lawyers hovering over every word uttered or written by your company. In spite of all their legalese precautions, there are always a few cranks around who will take you to court because they can effectively prove that the wrinkles did not go away, so you also need a few economists who can calculate the potential losses of the worst case number of lost lawsuits.

Q: But what if the campaigning politician is actually telling the truth, what then?

A: Stupid question. The only people who will vote for him or her will be friends and family. Who wants truth, for heaven’s sakes? Elections are like Christmas parties. We want gifts. That is what we have been taught to expect. Why would we otherwise take the trouble of standing in line somewhere to cast a ballot? We want something in return, don’t we.

Q: But surely there are some politicians and some voters who……?

A: Yes, yes, all right. Of course there are people, even some politicians, both on the so-called left and the so-called right side who seriously care – and many of them are even well-informed, take pains to stay informed and believe it is their duty as citizens to try to understand the complexities of our world. Nevertheless, the bottom lines of elections always tend to smack of seaweed or, worse, sawdust.

Q:Why? Anybody can have their say!

A: Yes, but not during elections. Elections are not about issues, but about what political party will get the job of governing the country or municipality. The people who talk are elected by their parties to say nice cheerful things that will make voters happy and vote for them, not the things that will depress voters.

For instance: Europe is tiny and there is a tidal wave of desperately poor and traumatised people rocking its fragile outer borders. Already, there are many cracks in the border, and people just go on dying by the thousands, attempting to cross. How do our politicians propose to deal with this issue? Some of them say (thankfully, many others do not agree) “We don’t want refugees here!” Have they ever taken a moment off from their politicking to imagine what would happen if the tables turned, if Europe were sacked, as the Roman empire once was, by very angry, very illiterate and very hungry millions? Where would we go? Who would give us asylum? Do you think voters want to hear about that?

True, these are only municipal elections, so the global situation is really not on the agenda. But the climate should be. Is my municipality willing to carry its part of the burden of changing the way we live here? This is a cold country. We use an awful lot of electricity. It is also a very long and sparsely populated country, so we use an awful lot of cars to get around. In 2014, carbon emissions from road traffic had  grown by 25% compared to 1990, while our total greenhouse gas emissions have increased by 3-4%. Do you think voters want to be told that from now on, they will not be allowed to drive to work?

So, yes, by all means, try Vex. Maybe the wrinkles will disappear, but if they don’t, don’t worry, be happy.

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