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Posts tagged as “Leif Magne Helgesen”

Briefs from Svalbardposten for the week of Jan. 26, 2016

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Read Time:1 Minute, 37 Second

Priest voted Svalbard person of the year for historic work
Svalbard Church Leif Magne Helgesen has been selected by Svalbardposten readers as Svalbard’s person of the year for 2015. He has been involved in a number of local and global events of historic significance during the past year, including spending the summer helping to keep Israeli soldiers from demolishing a Palestinian village in the West Bank, leading calls for action by the church and others to combat climate change, and serving as one of the most prominent caregivers and spokespeople for the community following the Dec. 19 avalanche.

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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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Chillingly clueless: Svalbard’s 10 strangest stories of 2015

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Read Time:10 Minute, 13 Second

Which is stranger: a year where parasitic wasps went on a killing spree or the year that actually happened? Yeah, we’re not sure either.

All we know is both versions of Svalbard will be back – and probably even stranger – next year.

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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AVALANCHE UPDATE: ‘All emotions are normal in such an abnormal event’; free help available to those needing it

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Read Time:3 Minute, 16 Second

Anna Eckhardt is a crisis intervention expert, so at least she knows why she’s having trouble remembering things this week.

“Memory can be affected by a crisis,” she said during a meeting with Longyearbyen’s English-language community at the Kulturhuset cafe Wednesday, where she and other officials discussed last Saturday’s avalanche, and its short- and long-term aftermath. “You may have super memories, exact details, remembering 20 seconds like they’re in slow motion – or the contrary.”

“I’m realizing going from meeting to meeting that I need to keep a log,” she added.

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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Svalbard priest details efforts to save Palestinian villages from Israeli soliders in new book

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Read Time:3 Minute, 38 Second

The village relied on the same communal bread oven for 50 years until soldiers demolished it. They brought a new one so the residents weren’t deprived of one of their main food sources, but then destroyed that one as well. And the next.

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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Still standing fast: Svalbard priest grateful after helping save Palestinian village from destruction, but fear lingers

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During a week when much of the world’s outrage was directed at the killing an 18-month-old Palestinian boy in an Israeli firebombing, another nearby West Bank village under constant threat was celebrating a reprieve – for now.

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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Book review: ‘The Ice is Melting’ asks right questions about ethics and climate; answers remain elusive

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Read Time:4 Minute, 45 Second

In a book full of questions, one of the toughest to answer is who this book is for.

It treats man-made climate change as fact, which eliminates an unfortunately large percentage of the population. It reveals little information a climate expert doesn’t already know and doesn’t make pure villains out of culprits that climate activists would surely like to see eviscerated. And ultimately the answer to all those questions is less than satisfying: we need more and better dialogue with each other.

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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‘The threat of annihilation’: Svalbard Church priest returns to West Bank to try to save village from demolision

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Read Time:3 Minute, 13 Second

Inside the home, “considered to be more of a big tent,” there’s a “happy reunion” with a family celebrating the post-fast Iftar meal during Ramadan. Outside, soldiers are awaiting orders to destroy the village, which those inside the tent believe may happen the next day.

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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Random weirdness for the week of June 23, 2015

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A cluster of snowmobiles and wood pallets in a dense housing area – one of many such clusters around Longyearbyen – is fueling a fierce online debate this week that’s essentially the Arctic version of the “your parked vehicle is making the neighborhood look ugly” feuds in countless suburban neighborhoods elsewhere.

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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Sacrifice for thee, but not for me? Prayers for global action and local coal mining launch ‘climate pilgrimage’

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Read Time:4 Minute, 26 Second

As the first step in a “climate pilgrimage,” it was a precarious one. Prayers for leaders to help the global community by taking action to combat climate change – accompanied by prayers for leaders to help the local community by keeping coal mining alive in Svalbard.

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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