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Random weirdness for the week of May 12, 2015

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When a barely-in-her-20s pop diva talks about visiting Svalbard for inspiration because “I wanted to get a sense of breaking free and breaking away,” perhaps one should assume she won’t opt for the most mature way of doing do. That said, we’re wondering what Tove Styrke’s teeny-bopper audience might do for fun if they follow her here this summer after seeing her new video where she indulges in a variety of odd behavior ranging from an apparent solitary orgasmic experience in a parked car from to smashing out the windows of a vehicle with a sledgehammer. Styrke, who released her debut album in 2010 after a third-place finish in Swedish Idol at the age of 16, filmed the video for the song “Borderline” (at tinyurl.com/nm2g2oy), which is also the title of her recent EP, at various locations around the archipelago after she and her fellow musicians “found it on the internet by accident,” according to an interview in Vortex Music Magazine. “We were Googling for something else when that place, Pyramiden, came up. We were blown away and decided to go there instead. It seemed like it would be an adventure – and it really was.” There’s also a line in another song that declares “hijack the idea of a girl who obeys,” which somehow has something to do with her newly assertive feminism…

Meanwhile a group feeling true anguish rather than feigned will probably rank high on many people’s no-sympathy list Norway’s whalers are reporting this year’s hunting season has been terrible so far for weather-related reasons. So much so that Per Rolandsen, a sales consultant for the Norwegian Raw Fish Organization in Svolvær, told Lofotposten that “as far as I know there is no vessel that is going to Spitsbergen.” The season started a week early and the initial catch was good, but hauls have dropped sharply since and the 64 total animals is 16 fewer than last year at this time.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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