I was told that the part of Stockholm these pictures were taken in is the equivalent of Brooklyn around here. Down home, working class, unlike the upper middle class snob appeal of lovely Ostermalm.

That’s neither here nor there as far as these photos are concerned, but I thought I should give some introduction. Sodermalm, the real ‘hood:

The courtyard was really lovely. I took a picture of what it looked like on the inside, but it was kind of boring, so I posted this one instead. I am so reminded just by standing there of Ben Stuy. The resemblance is uncanny. Rochelle!

Moving right along, I got a shot of this light thing that happens around here when the sun is about to set:

Everything turns these surreal looking colors, which of course thanks to the limits of my digital camera, per usual, doesn’t come across. I feel that there is a digital SLR somewhere in my future….

Sweden now: the world’s conscience. The only country on the planet that actually follows the Kyoto Protocol and your ready made source for benevolent diplomats.

Sweden round about the mid 17th century: the bullying bad ass of the Baltic. Well, OK, that’s a little too alliterative, but you get the point. Warring, deluging, where ever that was going on, the Swedes, they were sorta the instigators.

I guess the Swedes were feeling all contrite about all of this, so to make it up to the Poles and the other people they stole from, they recently put up this exhibition at the National Armory, where all the ill begotten goods the Swedes gained during its many wars with its neighbors in the region were put on display. This was kind of a big deal, because it even made it into the New York Times. This little sleepy corner of the world only makes it into the news when someone wins the Nobel Prize and gets to shake hands with the adorable King or something really weird happens like Bill Murray drives a golf cart through downtown Stockholm or someone tries to name their child “Metallica.” Both of those things I just mentioned actually happened. Within the last year.

Well, since my homeland was sorta mistreated by the Swedes, I had to go and see the loot. This exhibit was kind of funny. Unintentionally funny, and I’ll explain that in the pictures. First a look at what was so valuable, it had to be carted away, en masse:

The plates are nice enough and the book? Well, according to the info provided by the exhibit, Sweden was kind of illiterate and backward back then and they didn’t really have any books for their universities or libraries. I guess it was easier to steal them.

This exhibit was kind of interesting. They provided names and provenance for the all the loot:

Yes, blurry photos, but as usual, I was sneakily shooting things and generally think flash kind of ruins things. Now what is interesting about those signs is that they are only in Swedish. As was this:

I get it, yes, we are in Sweden after all, but in most of these museums in fair Stockholm, some measure of English is usually provided in the exhibits. This one had virtually none. I kind of got to thinking that maybe the Swedes figured out that the people coming to see the loot may be from the countries from wence the loot came and didn’t want to call attention to Sweden’s Attila the Hun like past? Perhaps. And, looking at some of these goodies taken from their great, disappearing neighbor to the South that isn’t Germany, I could see why the Poles would be cheesed off that these things were taken:

That thing above looks like the height of destruction technology round about 1650.

And I couldn’t see why a Catholic country like Poland would get angry to have this thing stolen:

Or these things for that matter:

What would I wear with this outfit?:

Oh wait, here’s the perfect accessory:

I was expecting there to be loads of stuff at this exhibit, but there were three rather small rooms. Like I said, I am thinking the Swedes don’t want to call more attention than is needed to their past. I tried to photograph an explanation of what I believe was a visit by Olaf Palme to Poland in the 1970s to (I think) apologize for the past, but it wasn’t coming out. A short consultation with the internets also brings up nothing about that. Darn.

Anyway, at the end of it, there was a little instructional film about how looting is OK:

Winning the hearts of minds are we now, Emerald city denizens? Right. More? OK:

My friend I was there with said that the movies were meant to illustrate that looting is still bad. This time I didn’t believe the fair explanation of things. I jumped to my own conclusions. Oh well.

Sweden, love of my life, this heartbreak will take a while to get over, OK?

Bus stop of the stupid?:

Doesn’t say, so I don’t know.

Its March here in the great white north, which of course means it is getting cold as hell. In January I could go outside without a coat and it was fine, but in March, the globe, warmed she is not.

And we are getting a bit of snow too. I love snow, as long as I don’t have to trudge miles in it, and always run out to take pictures immediately when it snows. These were two really boring pictures, but through the magic of editing (oooooooooooh) I improved them slightly? I don’t know, but you my viewing public can decide:

This picture above, is the view outside my window. This one below was carefully and thoughtfully composed. Oh no wait, I took out the window of a speeding bus:

As with all great art, which I am of course convinced the above work is, you never know when inspiration will strike. Like when you are breathing in toxic fumes on a city bus.

Yeah, well, per usual I was photographing some light coming in through a window and a person got in the way:

So, I decided to take a picture of her. The face? She kinda noticed. But it was an interesting shot, so I did some work on it:

I ran out of that place after I took the photo. No more complaining about there not being any pictures of people up here.

Did Anthony Bourdain wander completely off course?:

For those of you who don’t know, and I am sure there are more than a few, Mr. Bourdain is a food writer of some renown. Most people after reading his first book, Kitchen Confidential, about the restaurant world, opt to cook for themselves at home. Mr. Bourdain is also famous for eating pretty much anything. If one villager in the middle of nowhere somewhere in this world has survived eating a stew made out of a highly poisonous snake, Mr. Bourdain will give it a shot.

Now the question is, what is a picture of him doing here in Skansen, a park here in Stockholm that features reconstructions of Swedish pastoral life, people doing things and animals indigenous to this part of the world.

People doing things:

As usual, I felt weird photographing something that could potentially talk back, but I kept right on doing it, because I thought the guy was cute. I know, I’m shallow.

And, the Sweden of the past:

A house with feet:

A volcano you can live in:

OK, joking aside, these are reconstructions of Sami houses, people related to Eskimos who live in the north.

Back to Bourdain, it is possible that he is here for a snack:

This snack is chewing through its restraints:

He’s out of luck with the bears:

More snacks. OK:

Come to think of it though, this seems like much too normal fare for Bourdain. How he wandered into Skansen remains a mystery to me.