This morning, I got on the plane with considerable trepidation. The trip to Lund could have been the start of a major disaster. Thanks to recently unearthed high-level intelligence, disseminated during a speech that attracted global attention, Sweden is a failed state, a basket case, worst place to visit in Europe (where catastrophe and collapse is never far off anyway), a total mess. In Sweden, Islamic terrorists roam freely, rapists own the streets and assorted immigrants riot nightly. How criminally irresponsible of my employer to send me there.
The last time I was in Sweden, a few months ago, the situation hadn't quite deteriorated to the same degree, but it was already bad. While I survived, my telephone fell victim to a heinous attack by a terrorist stretch of pavement. I went running one morning, as I usually do when I'm traveling. It was still dark outside, cold and snowy. For the first time ever, I took my phone. I had just downloaded a running app and wanted to start tracking my activity.
A few minutes into the run – I wasn't even properly cold yet – the attack happened, out of nowhere. Thereafter it was utterly ignored by the mainstream media. No surprise, maybe, but remember: Here's the only place you'll read about it. Share freely to show that your voice won't be ignored!
From one nimble step to the next, my phone slipped out of my pocket, innocently and without guile, choosing, with charming naiveté, the ground to break its fall. The ground, probably shipped in from abroad and laid down in this very place by a team of illegal immigrants, took wicked advantage of the opportunity, whipping the poor phone around and cracking its screen into a million bits. The cost to repair it still brings tear to my eyes, but this time around, I fear for my life, not my phone.
Sweden is lost to civilization, a total nightmare. The airport serving southern Sweden needed to be moved to Denmark for safety reasons. These days, you fly into Copenhagen. Before letting you on the train across the Øresund Bridge, fierce immigrants with bushy beards check passports where only a few years ago one could travel freely.
In Sweden, I wasn't immediately confronted with mob violence or street violence, and I have no injuries to prove the danger I was in. Society seems to be hanging on, but the thread is thinning. To buy a bus ticket with a value I could just touch-pay with my credit card in Switzerland, I had to give my pin, then show an ID and finally sign the receipt. When I was asked for an iris scan, I ran off and walked to the place I had to be.
Tonight, after dinner by the train station, still peculiarly undisturbed by the mayhem that was surely going on outside, just out of sight, I saw that the Islamists had taken over a pub. Their first act of business was pricing all beer out of every infidel's consideration. Bastards – but what a way to make Switzerland look cheap! I had a local stout anyway, dark and cold like the night outside but much sweeter and more wholesome, pondering with friends and colleagues the sad state of the world where a deranged tweeter is taken more seriously than all the wisdom in the world and where assorted absurdities are taken at face value when a simple check would reveal their falseness.
I hasten to say that this post contains its own share of prevarication, though maybe less than the critical reader might think. Not all of it is nonsense.
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