The Hideous Heart Of Scandinavia

Morning in Oslo, from my hotel window I see many roofs most of them the same design; tidy, I wonder if Oslo employs roof sweepers. Social democracy in action, cold and efficient not given to surface passion. Even its homegrown terrorist is boring, but my god, able in his murderous pursuit for glory. Streets in Oslo are clean too, so spotless they look somehow defenseless and slightly obscene. The citizens are restraint tolerantly wait at traffic lights to turn green to cross, even if no cars are coming But there is an another Oslo, especially at weekends, when people drink enormous amount of beer and violence lurks, when fights break out and knives shine in moonlit nights. A lust for murder that harks back to a shared cataleptic memory. And you know there is a pent up passion, in the dark heart of Scandinavia; that given the right order can turn compassionate people into vicious Vikings.