The Need for Recognition

I am going to write a letter to the United Nations Security Council demanding to be recognized as the Head of Eiksmarka, the part of greater Oslo where I live. I have been conducting a sit-in at home for years, along with a hunger strike once a month where I eat nothing but rømmegrøt and spekeskinke, but no one has noticed. I consider this a brutal crime against my rights for recognition. Besides, I disagree with everything in Eiksmarka, especially the clique of local politicians who get everything wrong. Its far too quiet and peaceful here and they are doing nothing to change that. They have not raised the speed limit for years and beer still has to be purchased before 20.00hrs.I don’t really mind about the speed limit because I don’t have a car, and not even about the beer, because I no longer drink it, but the beer thing is their worst act to keep the people under their yoke. Everyone knows that if a Norwegian is allowed to purchase beer after 20.00hrs it will not be long before the government is overthrown. Norwegians will no longer be forced to go to bars and drink copious amounts of beer at exhorbitant prices, but can buy it at retail price in supermarkets, get each other all worked up, not to mention drunk, and then run amok and overthrow the government.

I think my timing is right because 30 nations have now recognized the rebels in Libya who are somehow getting stuck because the support for Ghaddafi seems to be stronger than they ever imagined. If one can recognize a group of disorganized rebels in Libya one can recognize me.They just killed their military leader Abdel Fattah Jounes, because they did not trust him. Neither would I in fact. Ghaddafi’s closest confidant, his Minister of the Interior before his defection, one of the central figures who helped Ghaddafi to power. Suddenly defecting? One smells a plot. He was planted in the rebel camp he was, and became their military leader immediately because he was the only one who knew which way to point the Ak-47’s.And, heres the devious part of it all, he got them to point them in the wrong direction!

Even though everyone knows why he was whacked, the rebels have declared three days of mourning. Thrilling stuff. Straight out out of the pages of Josef Goebbels diaries, which I am also reading. Getting Rommel to shoot himself once it was clear that he was part of the plot to overthrow Hitler, and then arrange a glorious State Funeral. I once shook his (Rommels) son, Manfred’s hand when he was mayor of Stuttgart where I was studying, but that’s beside the point. But a little human interest never harms an article. Like the time I took a leak next to Mandela when I was following his election campaign back in ’94.

But back to point. I will be more careful who I choose as my fellow conspirators once the United Nations has recognized me as the de-facto Head of Eiksmarka. I will also raise the beer-selling time to 21.00 hrs and be driven around in a limousine, as is only befitting a new Head of State.

Howard Gamble
Olsok, 2011

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