"Milwaukee Run By the Swiss", or a visit to The Big Potato!

 

When I was abroad and someone asked me where I was from, I would usually answer simply "Canada," and if pressed to elaborate I would say "Toronto?" always in the form of a question, as I was unsure if anyone outside Canada had ever heard of it. To my surprise, people usually had heard of it. The girls at the detention center knew it as "Where Drake's From," and only once did I ever hear the response "But you don't look Mexican." 

Yet it is my secret shame that I am not a true Torontonian, but a suburbanite! (A Whitby-ite to be specific) I had visited the city often when I was growing up, but I hadn't been downtown in over a year. Toronto was the first city I grew up knowing, but in the interim I've been to London, Washington, Stockholm, Berlin, and of course, New York City. Toronto is frequently compared to New York City (by Torontonians) who claim it to be "New York but cleaner," or "New York run by the Swiss." I've been to New York, I've lived in New York, and Toronto is no New York. Still, my visit had me wondering, how does Toronto stack up to The Big Apple? In fact, Toronto is like a big potato, earthier and less glamorous than an apple, but just as starchy! (That's as far as that analogy can go.) 

Transportation:

New York's mass transit is world renowned, with its subway moving millions of people each day and providing the world's largest habitrail environment for rats. Toronto also has a subway, with two or three lines,but unfortunately Toronto's subway does not appear to have any rodent wildlife. There are caribou, as one can see above, a subterranean art ode to Canada's Northern wildlife, but unlike Berlin, Toronto does not have actual caribou within city limits (let alone caribou on hallucinogenic mushrooms).  I admit I was once afraid of New York's rats, until I began to view them as tiny little puppies. Once I imagined them as miniature dogs, I loved to watch them splash in puddles and frolic in junk food wrappers. I do not regret at all bringing one home on a leash and  taking it for walks! (I miss you Misty, if you're reading this.)

Toronto does have the streetcar system though, which is like a less cool version of the San Francisco trolley. Still, it is unique and recognizably "Torontonian". Regardless of the "Red Rocket" as Toronto public transit is called, New York edges Toronto out in Transportation.

New York: 1 Toronto: 0

 

Tyrant Mayors:

Toronto recently elected the human embodiment of Porky Pig to the office of mayor. He's a rude, uncouth, pink-skinned, corpulent swine. Worst of all, he's not even a billionaire! Mayor Bloomberg has his own issues, but at least he was able to afford buying three straight elections. It's a blight on Toronto that we have a xenophobic, homophobic mayor; we have a reputation of liberalism and Ford betrays Toronto from being the socialist paradise it ought to be.

New York: 2  Toronto: 0

Freaky People:

Big cities are home to all sorts of freaks - hobos, street preachers, hookers, crazies, winos, Amish, etc. When I remember my time in New York, I cannot recall too many freaks. In fact, the homeless of New York were very friendly and ordinary folks (I shared my cheesecake with one once). New York, particularly the Lower East Side is supposed to be renowned for its freaks, the kind of people who end up in Lou Reed songs.

Toronto on the other hand is known as "Toronto the Good", and it is supposed to be a city of well-behaved people. Yet it was in Toronto that I saw the above freaky people, a band of Hare Krishnas! I was rather impressed to see them, a rather retro 1960s kind of touch. Winner: Toronto

New York: 2  Toronto: 1

 

Strip Clubs:

New York was once known for its center of sin and depravity, Times Square, a lurid and filthy stretch of strip clubs, porn theaters, and sex shops that was bought by Disney, and begrudgingly turned into an anti-septic playground for overweight Middle Americans once Disney realized tchotchkes, family eateries, and Broadway productions of "The Lion King" made more money than pimping streetwalkers for $5 handjobs. Surprisingly, the heart of downtown Toronto is still filled with strip clubs, sex shops, and head shops, like an Amsterdam without any history or charm. Above is Zanzibar, where the girls never stop! 

Toronto strip joints are relatively high-brow however, the titty bar above features a verse of fine poetry. 

And Toronto strip-joints have something for everyone. The above features "Men of Steel", which is either indicative of it being an establishment for gay men, or some kind of robot-themed joint with mechanical strippers. I'm not sure which. In this regard, Toronto outdoes New York. 

New York: 2  Toronto: 2

Times Square:

Speaking of Times Square, Toronto made one of its own in order to deal with its crippling inferiority complex. It is called "Dundas Square", and they got the large advertisements and chain restaurant parts down-pat. The only thing is its rather small, a 1/6 scale model of the towering cavern of commerce that is Times Square. Times Square is so gaudy, bright, and terrible as to elevate itself into becoming a cathedral of commerce. Scaling that down simply results in an overgrown strip-mall. They did however have a moonbounce and a wedding covers band performing in Dundas Square, two things I never saw in Times Square. 

New York: 3  Toronto: 2

The Gays: 

New York is the cradle of the Gay Liberation movement, if not for the rebellion at the Stonewall Inn we wouldn't have had Will & Grace, or something like that. So New York should be the Sodom and San Francisco of the Eastern Seaboard. But, one must take into consideration that Canada is a radical homo-socialist commune, one which has had gay marriage years longer than New York, (In fact, the effort to forcibly gay marry all the school-children is going swimmingly. The livestock will be next.) In light of the fact that homosexuals have recently staged a bloody coup, conquering Canada and changing its flag as you can see above, I must say Toronto edges out NYC in this respect. 

The Gays have also taken over the construction industry too, with sexy results:

New York City: 3  Toronto: 3

In the end, to my surprise neither city comes out on top. While I fully expected my hometown to appear like a dump next the Big Apple, upon further comparison it holds its ground. I guess Toronto's not so bad after all!

Oh wait, one more comparison, fashion: 

Hold up, what's this? A fine evening-wear boutique called "Shkank"? Yes, please! Any city that is home to the preferred clothier of angels automatically wins. The elegant couture house "Shkank" purveys such glamorous garments as that black backless number in the center, which is perfect for showcasing one's rear cleavage. When an angel reaches heaven, they are outfitted by "Shkank", nothing less. 

New York: 3  Toronto: inifiniti!

Leaving America, or How I Failed at Being an Illegal Immigrant and Returned to My Northern Homeland

My last image of America is this, the flags of the State of New York, Canada, and the United States flying together outside a truck stop restroom. After four years of suckling at the teat of American freedom (Not being able to drink until the age of 21, the lack of free healthcare, etc.) I was heading home to a place that does not feel so much like home. I am hyper-aware of American dysfunction, reading the newspaper any day alerted me to new crises like the impending collapse of the debt ceiling or the increasingly strict immigration laws passed in Arizona, but despite my moral objection to the American political climate, I genuinely liked the US. It's where I went to school and worked for the past four years, and where all my friends live. It's where New York City is! During my stay in the US I had the opportunity to live in the economic and political capitals of the American Empire, (New York City and Washington DC respectively) and now I'm exiled to its cleaner, blander Northern franchise.

Despite mortgaging out my future and ensuring I'll spend the next decade in debt, I'm glad I came to Cornell. It was a launching pad to some great experiences, but the best thing that resulted from me being at Cornell was being constantly out of my comfort zone. When I first went away to school I didn't know anyone in the entire country, let alone at the school, a situation I wouldn't have been in had I stayed in Canada. And whether going to frat parties with free beer and dogs, or going to classes where I felt intellectually inadequate, I was out of my element frequently at Cornell, and that was a good thing. I felt uncomfortable and insecure at Upper East Side penthouse dinner parties, at boozy football tailgates, and strangers' house parties in Collegetown, all because of Cornell. Being uncomfortable all those times was useful, and now I relish embarrassment and making a fool of myself, or I don't feel so bad about it.

My last meal in America was at that great culinary institution, the Cracker Barrel! It is the essence of American Exceptionalism distilled into a roadside eatery. When one enters, they are sequestered in a gift shop, modeled upon a old-time General Store, where one can purchase penny candy, moon pies, and Dolly Parton CDs. Of course, it is the food that attracts the customers, and the Cracker Barrel serves American delicacies like fried chicken, sweet tea, and biscuits. I ordered the Chicken 'n' Dumplings, a white on white on white creation that tastes better than it looks. One of the things I will miss most about the USA (other than freedom) is sweet tea! American sweet tea is real brewed tea, an elixir that surely Jesus Christ himself would drink if he could. Yet in Canada, ordering "Iced Tea" in a restaurant will cause the waiter to serve you a sweet brown sugar water that has as much to do with tea as MTV's "Teen Mom" has to do with maternal love and common-sense. The Cracker Barrel is concentrated Americana, it is what Sarah Palin is talking about when she espouses the "Real America", it's a commercialized nostalgia for a particular time and geographic location that never existed. Regardless of that, if one is looking for America, look no further than the interstate Cracker Barrel.

I'll miss the US and its plethora of fast-food chains, but I look forward to getting to know Toronto again. I moved away when I was 17, so I've never seen Toronto as an adult. I'll give it a try, and while I doubt it's "New York run by the Swiss" or the "New York of the North" as some cliches say, it is perhaps at least "Milwaukee run by the Swiss", or maybe the "Philadelphia of the North". We'll see! 

Adventures in Norway, the most expensive place on Earth!

Recently my friend Monica visited and we decided to travel to Norway because it is so close. It is also very expensive, and Oslo is often regarded as the most expensive city in the world. Us being two broke college kids had no chance of staying on a budget in such a place, so we charged everything to our parents' credit cards. (Sorry Mom.) Sweden is expensive, but if Scandinavia were casual dining establishments, Norway would be the Ruth's Chris Steakhouse and Sweden would be the IHOP. (Denmark would be Chili's, in between.)

Oslo is very picturesque. (Literally, I took lots of pictures.) It is on a fjord, surrounded by mountains, which makes for a very dramatic setting. We were there on a very warm and clear day, and could even see the Olympic ski-jump tower in Lillehammer. It isn't as historic as Stockholm, and there is not as much notable architecture, but the views of the city are beautiful.

 

The view of the fjord is incredible, it looks like the end of the Earth. While it was sunny when we were there, the above photos were taken around noon, although they look like sunrise.

Oslo is a conundrum, while it is an incredible wealthy city, it's difficult to see any of it on display. Oil wealth has made Norway fabulously rich - it's the only Western country to run a budget surplus during the recession, and it's national pension fund is the largest in the world. However, it is difficult to see any of that wealth in day to day life.

One of the first things I noticed about Norway was how dirty it is. There is actual filth on the streets - cigarette butts, bottles, food wrappers - which is never seen in Stockholm. There is extensive graffiti in the city, some political, others just tags. The neighborhood where our hostel was located was an odd place. It was apparently home to the Kurdish community and it was mostly comprised of downmarket wig shops. Poverty was visible. However, this is to be expected in a city that is one-quarter immigrant.

So just how expensive was it? A beer in a bar would usually cost $8. A mixed drink $12 - 15. Lunch would cost around $15 - 20, and dinner + $20. And with minimal exceptions we were trying to do everything as cheaply as possible. I had heard very negative things about Norwegian food, so I was pleasantly surprised by the food there. While we never ate any traditional Norwegian cuisine, we did have delicious Thai and American food while we were there. Strangely, there is a considerable amount of nostalgia for retro Americana in Oslo. We ate at the historic Teddy's Soft Bar, which is a fifties style juke joint. They served American food like Chili beans and bacon, which was life affirmingly good. They even had genuine rockabilly patrons, including the reincarnation of Kim Novak. Throughout the city there were many 1950s American style cafes, which is interesting for a country that never experienced that culture firsthand. I don't know if it's appropriate to fetishize the 1950s without considering the pain and turmoil the Civil Rights movement and the Sexual Revolution experienced in the 1960s. They did not entirely ignore the 1960s, we did go to a 60's style Tiki bar that was very Gilligan's Island. Even the bartender's name was Ginger, and she was from Hawaii!

Overall, Oslo was much cooler than I expected it to be. Sweden, and especially Stockholm get a reputation for being hip, but I think Oslo is more interesting. Stockholm is elegant but conformist, while Oslo is messy and weird. There were real sub-cultures, like the rockabillies, or the hippies and stoners. I was surprised by how different Oslo felt from Sweden, and while I've never been there, it's what I imagine Vancouver to be like.

As I prepare to leave Sweden this weekend, I will try to write once more about my last times in Sweden, including a visit to Gothenburg.

God Jul!

 

This year I spent Christmas away from home for the first time. Instead of returning to Canada, I spent the holidays with my friend Fennia in western Sweden. I did miss some Canadian and family traditions, for instance they don't show all the same Christmas specials here (No Rudolph, No Christmas Story, No Christmas episode of the Flintstones even!) Sweden does have its own Christmas viewing traditions though, and I watched Kalle Anka, or "Karl Duck" which is what they call Donald Duck here. He is arguably more popular than Mickey Mouse (or Musse Pygg "Energetic Mouse"). A lot of the clips on Kalle Anka were familiar from my childhood though, which was a nice touch. 

It was extremely snowy in Vastgotland, the area where I stayed. I heard that Toronto only received a little snow, but there were several feet of snow in Sweden, and more has continued to fall. Above is the guest house I stayed in at my friend's farm. 

 

Sweden is sometimes regarded as the least religious country in the world, but Christmas is still enormously important. It's mostly celebrated in a secular way, about cultural traditions rather than Jesus. I did attend a Christmas morning service for the first time in life. The service was in Swedish, so I didn't understand too much, but it was an interesting mix of old Sweden (The building was hundreds of years old, lit only by candles) with new (The minister was female and instead of telling the traditional story of Jesus' birth, she told a story about Astrid Lindgren.) 

 

While the weather was incredibly cold during Christmas (-15 celsius) it was relatively sunny. I think that Vastgotland is perhaps the most beautiful part of Sweden I've been to. Unlike the South, which is extremely flat, Vastgotland has hills and forests, and looks like what I imagined Sweden would look like. The architecture in the area is also very traditional and Nordic. 

These were some of the shortest days of the year, and this picture was taken shortly before noon. The sun just doesn't get any higher in the sky than this.

My favorite part of Christmas in Sweden was the food. For the Christmas julbord we had julskinka (Ham), turkey, meatballs (which I helped to make), herring, cheese, two kinds of sausage, mashed potatoes, and Jonssons frestelse, which I used to hate but it's now my favorite. It's a potato gratin with anchovy, and is a very strange and interesting flavor. 

Above is a symbol of Sweden's large and influential Jewish community, so powerful that every house displays a menorah in each window! Either they are menorahs or a Swedish Christmas candelabra, but it's funny to see something that would be identified very differently in North America. 

 

My friend lives on a pig farm, one that raises piglets. I had the chance to see the farm firsthand, which was alternately horrifying and delightful. Seeing the pregnant sows was somewhat horrifying. I was surprised at how large they were, although many were friendly and curious to see me. Also horrifying was the smells, a collection of some of the worst odors I've ever experienced. Each room in the pig farm smelled bad in a different way, according to the particular combination of urine, feces and pigs located there. The worst was the room where sick piglets were quarantined, which was such a noxious smell I had a vertigo sensation. After an hour though I couldn't really notice the smell anymore, and I was surprised by how strongly the smell clung to me and my clothes after I left.

The piglets themselves were very cute. They were shy of people, and scattered when we came. They mostly just nurse from their mothers or pile under the heat lamp. Interestingly, the piglets themselves don't smell bad, they smell rather like babies do. The piglets are very soft as well. The above piglet was a feisty one, and quite the screamer. The piglets varied in color, most pink but others gray, black or a combination of all three. Piglets are undoubtedly cute, but seeing them live first hand and what they grow up to become kills some of the cute piglet fantasy. They are livestock, not pets.

Seeing the piglets did not make me any more squeamish towards meat. Farming is not always pleasant, but seeing livestock in the flesh strips any romantic notions of pastoral farm animals. Farming is an industry now, and the animals are its products. The pigs leave brief, but not terrible lives, before they end up as food for us. The very same day I saw the piglets, I ate ham from a pig-shaped platter. I don't feel bad about eating pigs, they would probably do the same to us if given the chance.

Berlin: The Happiest Place on Earth

 

So Berlin sometimes looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but it is still full of fun and good times! It's a strange city, it's very modern, but you can still sense the scars of Nazism and Communism. But Berlin did not let authoritarianism keep it down for long, at it's heart, it is a party town. 

While I was there, the city was preparing for Christmas. Christmas markets lined all the major streets selling candy, gluhvin (hot spiced wine), hats, and other Christmas paraphernalia. At Alexanderplatz, there was a large carnival with rides. In this area the city had a very festive feeling. In other areas, the city was populated by people who looked as though they might cry at any moment. 

Some East German dourness may remain in Berlin, as you can see above, but for the most part the city is very integrated. You cannot tell exactly when you are in the East or West sections of the city, and there is nearly no recognizable impression left from the wall. There is a cultural difference though, in East Berlin many people do not speak English, as they were instead taught Russian as their second language prior to reunification. This was my first time meeting people who didn't speak English in Europe. I was surprised at my own reaction, I felt as though these people should know English, we're in the developed world after all. Being in Europe has made me aware of the privilege of being fluent in English. Thankfully though, my friends Marc and Ina are native German speakers, and they smoothed out any rough translation patches. 

I stayed with my friend Ina in Kreuzberg, which is the Williamsburg, Sodermalm, Queen West, "insert trendy neighborhood here" of Berlin. The difference between Kreuzberg and the aforementioned is that Kreuzberg retains some of its original appeal, despite gentrification.

 

Kreuzberg has a large Turkish population, and is home to a Turkish market. I had never eaten Turkish food before, but in Berlin I was exposed to it in a big way. I ate at a certain Turkish bakery half-a-dozen times during my stay, but the bakery was open 24/7 and everything was just a euro. Turkish cuisine was similar to Greek or Lebanese, heavy on feta, spinach, and sesame. Kreuzberg also had a lot of Vietnamese restaurants, a product of Cold War era forced migration from Vietnam to the DDR.

Berlin also has the world's best kebab, called doner locally. I had kebab at one renowned street vendor, and it was delicious, with chicken, grilled vegetables, feta, and two kinds of sauce. Food in Berlin is also fantastically cheap, never once did I spend more than $10 at a meal. (Okay, I did once, but only once.)

The most notable thing about Berlin visually is that there is graffiti everywhere, some simple tags, other elaborate illustrations. A lot of the graffiti or street art is political, above is a "Free Mumia" poster, taking up the case of a death row inmate in Pennsylvania. There is also considerable anti-Nazi graffiti in Kreuzberg, as there are still clashes between Nazi and anti-Nazi street gangs.

Berlin is generally very leftist, and fascism isn't tolerated. However, with increased immigration there is increased nativism. There are two groups of skinheads in Berlin. The first are immigrants from the former USSR who gained German citizenship by claiming it through their great-grandparents. Some of these immigrants have formed street gangs that are anti-Semitic and anti-Turkish. Other skinheads are German nativists, who oppose any immigration or multiculturalism. However, these conflicts weren't visible in day to day life other than through the street art.

 

The largest collection of street art is the East Side Gallery, which is the largest stretch of the Berlin wall that still remains. They have preserved it as it was in 1989, and the art on the walls dates to that time. If anyone graffitis over the work, it is repainted to its original state. It seems odd in a city of constant change that street art would be preserved, but it is a large part of East Berlin's history. 

 There were many artists who worked on the wall, and a great variety of styles, but most of the art falls into general themes of philosophy, universal humanism, and parodies of Soviet communism. The above quote seems to be a fitting description of Berlin's restlessness, but it's funny that even on the Berlin wall, writing would be in English. 

It's incredible to have as much outdoor art as Berlin does. Walking through the city you are constantly immersed in it. But there is also indoor art. 

Here are some reindeer that have been fed magic mushrooms as part of an art project. The artist's intent was "Blah Blah ancient Sanskrit texts, blah blah perception, blah reindeer mice and canaries, blah you can pay 1000 euros to sleep in the stable and drink reindeer pee." In the artists defense, the reindeer pee may contain hallucinogenic properties. 

It was supposed to be art as an experiment. Neither the audience nor the artist was informed which group of reindeer was fed the fly agaric mushroom. However, one group of reindeer definitely acted like they were tripping. They were hyperventilating, licking themselves, and staring in the mirror. I wonder if the SPCA would frown on drugging reindeer for art, but apparently the reindeer will also consume the mushroom in the wild when foraging. I thought it was fun to watch the reindeer act silly, but my friend Marc said it wasn't art. 

If that wasn't art, this wasn't news. The frontpage story in Berlin was the tale of Flocky, the blind and deaf poodle that was left out in the snow. While this is certainly a sad story, does it really demand front page coverage? And to be shown as a breaking news bulletin on the metro TVs? Berliners love dogs though, and so the tale of Flocky was very much the zeitgeist. Dogs are allowed anywhere in Berlin, on trains, in restaurants, in expensive boutiques. I like it because I think it's fascinating to see dogs in people places, but I cringed when I saw a man hold a terrier in one arm while examining suede shoes. Dogs are great fun, but they will pee indoors. 

It wouldn't be a vacation in Germany without some cringing at inappropriate references to the Nazi past, and here at the Mercedes-Benz Christmas display Santa appears to be giving a Heil Hitler salute. Was this accidental? Intentional? Ironic? Offensive? I don't know, but I doubt Santa is a Nazi, he's Jewish! 

It was great fun to spend the week preceding Coca-Colamas in Berlin. (The Coca-Cola corporation has bought and reserved all rights to the holiday formerly known as Christmas within German borders.) Now I prepare to spend Christmas in Sweden, my first Christmas away from home.

PS: I learned something funny about German people. Despite their clean reputations, Germans do not shower daily. In fact, Germans only bathe when they perceive themselves to smell. They do this so they may save water, or because they enjoy filth. I now feel that the French are unfairly judged for their hygiene, when it is Germans that are the culprits. I skipped a few showers in Berlin after I noticed I was the only person showering, I wanted to feel a little more German.

In which I celebrate a made-up Swedish holiday

The Swedish are a greedy people. They crave celebration so much that they decided they could not wait two weeks until Christmas, and instead must have a holiday immediately. So they made up Sankta Lucia Day. My understanding is that it was a pagan ritual that celebrated candles and female virginity, to show resilience in the face of the dark winter. When the Catholic missionaries arrived, they too enjoyed candles and female virginity, so they retooled the holiday to be about a Greek martyr. When Catholicism was expelled from Sweden, they just loved the holiday too much to get rid of it, so they continue to celebrate a Greek Catholic saint with candles. Oh well, I mostly like it for the dinner.

My nation hosted a gasque (a Swedish word for formal dinner party) to celebrate Lucia. My friend Patrik stepped in to be my last minute prom date (although I forgot the corsage), and then we were off to enjoy some genuine Swedish festivities.

I apologize for being such a tourist and being so tacky as to photograph what I ate, but it was herring! The appetizer was two (TWO!) types of herring, served with knackebrod, a potato, and a beet salad. One herring was ginger flavored, the other mustard. Herring was much better than I expected, the texture was meaty and not at all offensive. It really wasn't so different from sushi. I think North Americans are overly squeamish about herring, although I've heard that even Swedes hate fermented herring (which I have yet to try.)

The main course was lamb and potato au gratin. Traditionally, Swedes eat a dish called Jonsson's Delight around this time of year, which is a potato casserole made with anchovies. The first time I ate it was rather traumatic, but I've grown to love and hate the thing. Most Swedish food is offensive at first, but it lures you in with repeated tastings.

Finally, they served a saffron cheesecake for dessert. Lots of desserts are saffron flavored for the holidays, even the glugg. Swedish cheesecake (ostkake) is different from New York style cheesecake. Swedish cheesecake has a grain to it, and is similar to marscapone cheese rather than cream cheese. I like all kinds of cheesecake though.

One odd thing is that there are all new beverages for Christmas, including Christmas beer, seen above. Christmas beers are darker and maltier usually, and each brewery produces its own. They're only around for the holidays, and then come back in new labels as Easter beer. They also make Julmust, which is like a spiced Coca-Cola that everyone buys over the holidays. One strange drink is "mumma", which tastes like Julmust and beer mixed together (that might be what it is.)

There is also new Christmas candy, my favorite of which is Juleskum. Skum translates to mean 'foam', but sounds a lot like our word 'scum'. They are little strawberry flavored Santa marshmallows. I ate this bag in one sitting.

Now that Lucia is over, it's on to Christmas, which I will also be spending in Sweden. I like Christmas season a lot in Sweden because it fits to my personal ideal - overwhelmingly commercial and entirely irreilgious. Sweden definitely gives North America a run for its money in sheer commercialism, they even make you buy new beer and soda! I like how Christmas infiltrates every part of Swedish life, which is notable in a country that has the highest proportion of non-religious people. I can certainly relate, because I grew up with secular Christmases that were about Santa rather than Jesus, and the only lessons were from TV specials about vague "Christmas miracles" and "the spirit of the season".

My last month in Europe will definitely be busy, with Berlin, Norway, and Gothenberg on the tentative itinerary.

Sex and Catfood

One thing unique to the Swedish psyche is the intersection of sex and pet food products. This kind of convergence between the erotic and catfood has not been seen in other cultures, as other anthropological surveys have surmised. In this post, I attempt to make sense of this phenomenon, and I will adopt an anthropological distance to maintain objectivity. I warn my more genteel readers, from here on it gets a little blue.

 

Here we see our first instance of the erotic marketing of catfood. Funny, I never thought it looked that good anyways. 

 

I believe it was Daryl Bem who theorized that the exotic becomes erotic...

Oh my...  Now they have taken it too far! How is this legal?!

Clearly there is a dark side to the sexualization of catfood, leading to earlier and earlier development of sexuality being pushed on youth. I can't imagine how the conscience of the Swedish people can rest with this travesty. 

 

Of course, not all catfood revolves around sex in Sweden. Opticat Prime here appeals to fantasies of bionic pets with cybertronic abilities. Certainly he must have Terminator vision. 

Of course they do have dogs in Sweden too, and yes, they are allowed to eat. Above is a concise but accurate description of Orlando. (I've been there, trust me, there is not a lot to say.) 

So yes, that is what interested me most in Sweden the past week. Puns of catfood names. Lest you think I am not providing educational content, below I share a prime example of Swedish-American relations

This is what America is to Swedes. Not purple mountains majesty, nor amber waves of grain. Not the bustle of New York City or the influence of Hollywood. Not the wide open spaces of all that stuff in between New York and Hollywood. No. America is donuts. What I find most incorrect about this whole scene is that donuts are Canadian! 

Donuts may have arguably originated in America, but they have been thoroughly appropriated by Canadians. Canadians consume the most donuts in the world per capita, and have the most donut stores. Swedes are not large donut consumers, but seem to appreciate the novelty. Only time will tell if donuts are spared the rampant sexualization that has befallen the catfood industry.