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Being the thoughts and writings of one Gustaf Erikson; father, homeowner, technologist.
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Svenska f�rintelsevapen by Wilhelm Agrell.
A history of the Swedish plans to build WMDs, specifically a plutonium bomb and VX and mustard gas.
Never got past the planning stage due to politics and a new sense of the term "international security".
The last chapter has interesting info concerning Iraq's gas and nuclear programmes after Gulf War 1.
Random notes about what I can remember right now.
Soundtrack of Our Lives -- as mentioned previously, greatest set. The finale, where the guitarist in a Who-like frenzy smashed his instrument and then, instead of hurling the deadly pieces out into the audience, climbs down and hands it to some lucky sod, was a classic rock-star sendup.
Kraftwerk -- amazing show. But these guys are still a relic of the Seventies, and it shows. Tour de France was all about television, how the race is transmitted into the home, but no mention of the Internet at all. If you don't cound Computerwelt.
Echo and the Bunnymen -- I enjoyed the show. Fun scuttlebut about them from their driver, who I met over a beer the day after.
Olle Ljungström -- pity I missed all but the last song.
Marit Bergman -- ditto.
Auf der Maur -- heavy stuff, too early in the day.
Keane -- prompted this.
Escobar -- boring
Weeping Willows -- booring.
Broder Daniel -- I went for a long walk. 'Nuff said.
Whew, we're back. Although tired and sore all over, I had a lot of fun.
Some things to think about for next time:
Accomodation. Face it, camping in a tent sucks. You have to be at least as pissed as everyone around you, and I'm too old for that. Some sort of better living next time.
Bring a friend. Even though it's great fun to meet a lot of random people, people who attend festivals alone are weird. I've been too much on my own when I was younger.
Cooler (i.e. hipper) clothes -- blend in.
Research. Find out more about the bands before you go.
I'm sure there's more, I'll update later.
There's something wrong with society when the first thought you have when hearing a new band is "I'm so downloading this."
Night even worse than last.
We went into town for a shower and coffee. Personally I can go 3 days without a shower (goes with living in a tent -- cue lumparhistorier, tall tales about Swedish military service), but the girls insisted.
Due to this detour I missed Olle Ljungstr�m, a 90s figure that I liked way when.
The day has been warm, almost oppressively so, but as before, can't complain.
Familiarity breeds, if not contempt, at least contentment. The camp, which presented a disturbing spectacle the first day, now feels like a (smelly) home.
Soundtrack of our Lives really live the rock star life. Their set was the best yet.
Kraftwerk next!
Night was pretty grim, cold and damp, but the morning was dry enough. Nearly too hot, in fact, but a Swede can't complain about the heat.
Today I've met lot's of fun people, seen Eskobar, Auf der Maur, and I'm waiting for Echo and the Bunnymen.
Arrived after an uneventual journey, and have pitched our tents in a spot that seems suspiciously vacant. Whether this is because the ground is utterly sopping or for some other reason, I don't know. Turf is damp, but passable.
Walked to the festival area, talked to a nice guy who's a functionary. He thinks there should be more hip-hop at the festival, which has a rock/goth leaning.
Representatives for SR wear grey hair streaked with black, aviator Ray-Bans, tight black clothes and Nokia 3310s.