Made in Norway

[Sepia]

We used to have trolls here, in the old days they lived in the parts of our hearts where mystery still exist or did, like they did, by the still lakes and the waterfalls or just in a clearing, a ring of mushrooms where each witch would partake every moon, where the lesser creatures in the night would make mischief in it while every fable visited us every year, at least once we saw them, waving them good-bye like old relatives whom we are not sure will be living or somewhere else, in the nothingness or in his dreams in his belief, all will turn gray and all gray will fade and I think we are beyond ends and beginnings now, childrens tales told by damned souls working for a buck, we are onto something else, we are moving furthur along the edges of the known, where reality is newt gingrinch telling the world that in eight years if god permits the moon will be made a state in the land of the free

We had trolls for the longest time, our silent partners in the rise of our nation, from being kinda good at pillaging way back to being in unions with elder brethren who understood the world so much more than us but then it hit us and it was trolls in specially fitted scuba gear that found it, many dying and never compensated and they were around but growing uncommon as a different age dawned, with their frequency being replaced with a louder signal, never nothing but louder

Soon, the forests cleared of the elvenkind and what is actually typically norwegian but none will tell, it was in the furthest trenches the opposition was fierce, older stories and ghosts, older nisser, vetter, haugetusser and the old knight, Ridder Vold, Knight of Violence whom would haunt the graveyard, killing passers by as he did, collecting the gold to pay passage on the river styx or perhaps the cover on the houseboat

The last trolls were the trolls that ran the subway in oslo, they stayed with us into the late eighties before they also vanished, creating the ghost of their station now only seen in bigger ad campaigns


There are still trolls here, some are sleeping and waiting for warmer times, others have passed on, their stories truth on with them and some await being born and some were birthed and active now but the distillation of knowledge is something we will never see, printed in schoolbooks 70 years from now or the information is just injected into your left eyeball, giving the never-ending Empire what it wants as it seizes your temporal lobe and you lie in blissful agony in a tank filled with LCL and the world is at your fingertips and you know who you are and you know you will emerge victorious as everything emerges and you know you are their black swan and youre playing it cool and humble and there comes the seizure again and youre heading there now, you are moving through thoughtspace to the allnow where all matter is condensed into time and no shadows are cast, by some seen as a swamp, a mesa or a plateau but youre deep in the dark heart of mythologys