My thoughts on the novel Dreams Belong to the Night by Amos Keppler

This isn’t really a review, as it isn’t detailed enough for that, but more like a burst of excitement.

It’s a great, engaging story. You can hardly put the book down until you’ve read every single word.

Added to that is this:


It’s a story of extreme awareness, for everyone that has ever taken part in protests and have had their skull bashed in by the police. If you are anything like me, if you have suffered years and years of frustration in an effort to achieve true and powerful change in society this is the book for you.

I feel like a part of the story. It speaks to me. I can relate to the characters and to their situation, and the burning in their gut driving them forward.

To those protesting in the UK, United States, Cairo and every other place these days: you should really read the book, to find a focus for your justified anger and rage. I know I have.

Keppler doesn’t just write about ongoing rebellion, but the history of rebellion as well. This is even more precious since those in charge of the current tyrannical society do their best to eradicate all radical information, all critical thought and belief.

This story isn’t just about rebellion. It is rebellion.

We sat around the bonfire at night, not far from what is usually busy city streets and read from the book. I tell you, it was an event, so powerful and engaging.

I feel, in a strange way that the story truly speaks to me and my situation, and not just because the story is set in Copenhagen and Northern Europe and is about politically aware people there.

It speaks to the core of all humans, striving to break free.

"When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw". Nelson Mandela

Another great victory against censorship

Our page Crossroads, an art site about Transgression, rebellion and life on the edge of society is finally up and running again.

It has been down for some time, now, since it was removed from its last server "due to its offensive content". It isn't the first time that happened and probably won't be the last. A few years ago we were also censored, pretty much with the same "reasoning".

I looked for a useful free webspace for a while, but it is increasingly difficult to find such a beast these days, so since we often have to search garbage cans for food because we can't afford to buy it we couldn't put it back up until a friend paid for space for us.

We'll see how long it will stay up this time.

Urban Prose

I recently started something in my head I call Urban Prose. It might be something to consider actualizing, pursuing. I report from the urban landscape, its horrors and alienation, as I walk, sit and watch. There are a thousand things happening even in a quiet street, and a million in one filled with people and machines, with four-wheeled coffins. It feels like a moving painting. The insane modern condition is unfolding and crunching in my head.