Om ansvar.

Det är ofta i små formuleringar som kvinnor skuldbeläggs för mäns våld. Det gäller att ge akt på det här. Läser gårdagens Husis. Ett kort referat av filmen Thelma & Louise (jag tycker om den filmen, men det är ovidkommande i sammanhanget) av filmkritiker Hans Sundström: "I vår tid ska kvinnor prompt imitera allting. Så också i Thelma & Louise ... Mycket riktigt innebär det en våldsförhärligande imitation av manliga beteendemönster men tillika ett kvinnligt uppbrott från manssamhället. Och helt enligt genren också en frihetens blodiga sång. Det börjar som ett weekendfirande väninnorna Thelma och Louise emellan. Båda har det lite jobbigt med sina män och på vägen till det hägrande målet, en hyrd fiskestuga, kastar de loss på ett Texassjapp där den flirtiga Thelma går lite för långt med en av de lokala machomånsarna." Jag undrar hur redaktör Sundström tänker här. Antagligen inser han inte att han genom beskrivningen "att gå för långt" tar ställning. Det som händer i filmen: Thelma dansar med en gubbe på haket. De går ut på parkeringsplatsen. Han försöker våldta henne. Sundström säger ingenting om mannen. Han talar inte heller om en våldtäkt. Han säger bara att Thelma "gått för långt" och att Louise räddar henne genom att sätta en kula i skallen på mannen. (Han säger också att flickorna har det "lite jobbigt" med sina män.)

Genom att säga att Thelma "går för långt" säger Sundström att hon gjort en invit och att hon bär ansvaret för det skedda. Att säga att Thelma "går för långt" är alltså ett moraliskt omdöme, inte ett neutralt faktum om situationen som man kunde utreda genom en oberoende studie av omständigheter.

"Att gå lite för långt" tycks implicera bilden att Thelma överträtt en gräns - gränsen där det oskyldiga flirtandet övergår i något annat, något man kan hållas ansvarig för. Det här är en vidrig bild från början till slut och tonfallet är nästan lite raljerande. För är det inte bilden av kvinnan som "bjuder ut sig" åt den manliga sexualiteten som tycks finnas med här? Hon "provocerade" fram mannens reaktion? Den aktiva parten är alltså Thelma, den passiva parten (vars handling inte ens behöver nämnas) är mannen som våldtar henne. Jag menar: what?? I filmen, när Louise kommer till parkeringsplatsen och riktar pistolen mot Harlan - mannen som våldtar Thelma - säger han: "we're just having a little fun." Beskrivningen "Thelma gick lite för långt" befinner sig inte så långt borta från det perspektivet. De hade ju bara "lite kul tillsammans" men sedan råkade situationen urarta?

Och vad innebär det att Thelma "räddas"?

Om man har sett filmen ifråga så vet man att den här skuldfrågan är ett tema. Trött och ledsen anklagar Louise, om jag minns rätt, ungefär som Sundström gjorde, Thelma för att ha gått för långt - att Thelma kan skylla sig själv (dels handlade det om att hon ville rikta uppmärksamheter från sin egen handling). Men om jag minns rätt blir det också klart att Louise ganska snabbt inser vad slags ställningstagande hon gjort genom sina ord.

Det är också intressant att Sundström beskriver det som händer i filmen som ett "uppbrott från manssamhället". Som om det som händer i filmen - våldtäkten, mordet, flykten undan polisen - handlar om något slags principiellt avståndstagande från gruppen Män. Det här är en underlig beskrivning (som ganska många skulle läsa som att Sundström förstår filmen T & L som ännu en inlaga i "feministdebatten".)

Visst finns det vissa problematiska element i Thelma & Louise. Men ändå är det en film som är viktig just i sin beskrivning av manligt våld och också i beskrivningen av skuldbeläggande av offret.

**

I lördagens Husis ingår en ledare av Marit af Björkesten med rubriken "Ingen ursäkt för våldtäkt". Där uppmärksammas att antalet våldtäkter i Finland 2008 ökade med en femtedel i relation till året innan. En konstapel uttalar sig om att antalet våldtäkter kunde ha halverats om offret hade betett sig på "ett allmänt godtagbart sätt". Sedan följer en förvirrad formulering av af Björkesten själv: "Visst är det ansvarslöst av en kvinna att ragla omkring redlös. Men det är oförsvarligt att föra över ens en del av ansvaret på offret." I och för sig kan man ana sig till hur af Björkesten tänker här: ansvarslöshet för berusning är en allmän ansvarslöshet som inte har med ansvarsfrågan gällande våldtäkt att göra. Vem som helst, kanske man tänker, är ansvarslös då den raglar omkring. Men frågan är om det är så enkelt. För trots allt kopplas ju graden av berusning och våldtäkt ihop. Som om graden av berusning hos någondera parten skulle göra en skillnad i beskrivningen. Jag har svårt att förstå mig på den här idén, "när man är full kan lite vad som helst hända". Oberoende av hur jävla packad offret än är kvarstår beskrivningen: VÅLDTÄKT. Berusning ändrar inte ett jävla dugg vad det handlar om.

A Hank Williams Journal!

Among the new posts I read the announcement that there will be a film about Hank Williams!
I hope it won't get the Johnny Cash treatment, though. I wasn't really impressed by "Walk the line" except for the good music, of course.

ps: am listening to Ramblin' man & god, that's a good song. almost all of them are (or well, some are goofy & silly, but plenty of fun all the same).

---------------------------

"Nä, nu får det allt vara färdigjobbat för ikväll. Det är väl bara att gå och knyta sig. Det är ju en dag imorgon också."

playlist

A god damn spotify playlist. For insomnia etc. It is very long. You can add stuff if you want to. It's collaborative so it should work.

kristendomsstrategi?

I dagens DN skriver KG Hammar ett klokt inlägg med anledning av det svenska kyrkomötets godkännande av vigsel av samkönade par. De flesta kommentarerna är griniga. En av dem är riktigt rolig: Bibeln är kyrkans "strategiska plan". Vad är Gud? VD? Är kyrkan aktieägarna? Är det månne bra avkastning på kristendomsaktien? Vem sköter auditeringen för den här verksamheten?

Il dono (2003)

The state-funded TV channel Yle Teema broadcasts an excellent assortment of foreign, non-Hollywood movies, old & new, rare & famous. I missed the first part of Il dono (because my digital box is fucking up again) directed by Michelangelo Frammartino. It's a shame I didn't see the whole film. There was no dialogue in a traditional sense. The very few words uttered by characters were not translated. Instead, the film comprises long takings of landscape and people doing things. The setting is a rural village. The scenes of the film revolves around an old man, a strange girl and a very old woman. The cinematic language of Il dono is very different from the face-centered, dialogue-driven scheme of commercial movies. The film appeals to the viewer's attention and imagination. There is no story that tells you where to look. The images are in a sense open. Rubble, a car, a person riding a bicycle, hills, the village, houses, a dog. A sudden burst of funereal music. In some scenes, I was confused about what people were doing and I was trying to re-orient my attention.
In one scene, a boy kicks a ball down some stone steps. During the next few minutes, the camera follows the ball's journey down the steps and down the stone path between a few houses. A donkey looks at the ball, surprised. A man passes by. This is a brilliant scene.
In another scene, an old man leaves a mobile phone on a table. It's not his phone. The phone rings. The vibrating phone is reverberating against a table. Close-up of ringing phone, the table cloth.
One scene bothered me. A girl stands by a window, looking out. A man is in the room. Suddenly, the woman unbottons her blouse. The camera focuses on her half-naked body. What separates this scene from the rest is its allegiance to conventional, porno-ish aesthetization of the female body. The girl (a prostitute?) becomes statue-like Body, while the older man shuffles around the room. The woman's body is lit by the light from the window, while the male lurks somewhere in the darkness of the room. The girl is portrayed as inhabiting a world of her own (in other scenes, we see her in an almost catatonic state). What I intend to say is: men are very rarely undressed in this way in movies, and their bodies are rarely aesthetized into frail nakedness. When males are shown naked, the context is usually different.

a mess.

I presented a paper at our small seminar. One comment made me think about stuff. The comment concerned a biographic description of Simone Weil's years in the Renault car factory. I wrote: "the work exhausted her." I was told that this is a slight understatement. It is. A big one. The work did not "exhaust her". She was almost killed by the machines. Weil was clumsy. She worked anyway. The machines were dangerous. But in the hustle & bustle of philosophical writing, I did not really pay any attention to my description. I just wrote something that would somehow "bring out the point".

My small mistake reveals a tendency in my thinking that I am worried about.

What felt so bad about this realization is how immensly dulled my mind can be with respect to giving a true description of something. "Well, something along those lines will do...." "I just have to muddle through."
I don't blame "philosophy". It's just a failure of attention that might seem insignificent but it is not. It's not just "getting the facts wrong". It's more an inability to care about details.
Exhaustion can be many things. Excercise can be exhausting but that does not necessarily mean it is harmful. A conversation sometimes exhausts me but that need not be harmful, either. (I know there are more "clinical" uses of the word, though.)
Weil writes somewhere (I think) that factory work work killed something of her youth.
Exhaustion doesn't kill youth and it doesn't kill the soul either.
It's these kinds of things that make my texts a mess and make me despair over writing.
Weil herself acknowledges the difficulty of depicting the hardship & misery of (factory) work in a truthful manner that defies banality.
My "slight understatement" is an example of that problem.
(But realizing that my description was irresponsible and thoughtless only shows why I think philosophy is not always a stupid academic excercise: sometimes you realize that you can't just say whatever you like, "if it brings home the point". "Muddling through" is not good enough.)

Hjärnan i trim, hjärnan i arbete

Eftersom jag är extremt sysslolös på jobbet läser jag en bunt HBL. Det är som vanligt en artikel om arbete som gör mig grön i ansiktet. Under rubriken "Ge hjärnet! Kolla e-posten! Ring Ulla-Maj!" analyseras en riksdagsledamotsassistents vardag av en neurolog. Det är det vanliga. Hur hektiskt är arbetslivet idag? Hur ska man trappa ner på takten? Nu är det alltså neurologen som ska komma med små råd och rön om den effektivt fungerande hjärnan. Resultatet är inte överraskande. Neurologen talar om vikten av vila och pauser. Vad som är slående är dock hur sneaky en retorik om "det moderna arbetslivets hektiska takt" lätt blir. Å ena sidan verkar det fint och bra att neurologen är bekymrad över en hög arbetstakt. Men utgångspunkten verkar vara tanken att vi behöver en effektivt fungerande hjärna - för att kunna jobba med maximal förmåga. Det är alltså saker som minne och koncentrationsförmåga som betonas. Att journalisten alls väljer att vinkla artikeln på det här sättet är symptomatiskt. Den hårda tillvaron som snuttjobbare och multitaskare sägs å ena sidan vara problematisk. Men varför? Tydligen eftersom den här formen av tillvaro riskerar att verka i motsatt riktning än den önskade; att arbetsförmågan blir sämre och inte bättre. Utifrån den här synbart "humana" retoriken kommer sånt som sömn och kaffedrickande att underställas ideal om effektivitet. Hur mycket sömn behöver människan för att fungera optimalt? Och om kaffedrickande:

"Det är dags för den dagliga kaffepausen. Den tar hon samtidigt som andra assistenter på SFP:s kansli. Hjärnforskaren föreslår en paus efter två till fyra timmars tankearbete.
- Jag rekommenderar varmt kaffepauser med kolleger! Du trimmar ditt tänkande med att tala med en annan människa, säger Kiti Müller.
Müller har tidigare i offentligheten vädjat om ro för tankar på arbetsplatsen. Hon anser att var och en ska få sätta 10-15 procent av sin arbetstid på att diskutera och tänka."

Man tycker kanske att jag läser texten lite ogint. Hon förordar ju reflektion osv. Men det paradoxala är alltså att detta verkar göras utifrån en idé om vad det är att fungera bra. Och nu gäller det alltså hjärnan. Men en funktion är alltid en funktion för något. Det är svårt att förstå betoningen av minne och koncentrationsförmåga om det inte görs för att det är viktigt att minnas och att koncentrera sig. Vad en del formuleringar i den här artikeln - såsom citatet ovan - ger vid handen är att minne och koncentrationsförmåga är viktiga just för att kunna arbeta optimalt. I det här sammanhanget är det därför inte alls märkligt att också den arbetsdel som idealt sett skulle innehålla diskussion och reflektion kan ges en kvantitativ beskrivning.

Jag vet inte om jag förhåller mig alltför skeptiskt till den retorik som betonar vikten av "avslappning". Men ofta tycks det mig att bakom fasaden av kritik av nyttotänkande finns det ett ännu större och mera omfattande - subtilt också - framhärdande av nyttoidealet. Jag har t.ex. svårt att förstå begreppet "avslappning" isolerat från en smygtanke om att vi slappnar av för att kunna göra något annat. Vad detta "annat" är sägs ibland ut och ibland inte.

Om det är så att jag ska dricka mitt kaffe och prata med andra människor för att hålla min hjärna i trim flyttar jag hellre ut i öknen och vallar kameler, eller nå't. Eller vägrar arbeta helt och hållet.

Men of Honor

So I watched another Melville noir movie. Le deuxième souffle (1966). I've watched two other film of his, one from 1959 and one from the seventies.
This thing was almost 3 hours long and the most profound thing the film taught me is that you get a very sore ass out of watching boring, pretentious criminals talk about their petty business for that long. And the film, I suppose, was supposed to be funny (at least one guy's guffaws were particularly audible, thank you).
Some scenes were technically entertaining. A few scenes worked really well in creating a real sense of tension. What it did have was also a nice soundtrack, I must say.

Now: a small rant.
I am so sick and tired of movies/books about existential gangsters. That also goes for existential films about gangsters, like this film was, I suppose, intended to be. I don't, ever, ever, FUCKING EVER, want to see yet another movie or read another book about a gangster with "standards", with a sense of "honor", which imbues him with dignity despite how corrupt these "standards" are. In this movie: "don't rat, don't betray".

And don't show me another ending in which honorable-yet-ruthless gangsta meets his maker in tragic, futile Death which is supposed to epitomize the Human Condition. When rid of all that honor, the film shows the hero reduced to a pitiful lump of a creature.
That little existentialist, faux-fatalist lesson is truly sympathetic, ain't it? Life is absurd, isn't it?
It sure must and will be, if you're a MAN OF HONOR.
Here, there is a constant shift between two perspectives: either you are a hero of a majestic tragedy OR you are a crushed ant. Both show life and human beings to be quite despicable affairs.

I must confess I prefer completely brainless heist movies to this movie's shallow aestethization. (But don't even get me started about how much I loathe "the gentleman robber" - I don't care about your FUCKING DIAMONDS, awwright?)

A humble plea to Elokuva-arkisto: Don't waste my time with more masculinist bullshit PLEASE.

(It's not that you can't make interesting art out of this subject - I once saw an excellent documentary about a Yakuza organization. The documentary drew parallels between yakuza codes and business-talk.)

Of course, Mr whatever is praised as a "dedicated auteur".

I'll try to write a more substantial post about this when less tired and less pissed off.

Chavela Vargas

Chavela Vargas is a popular Mexican singer. If you haven't yet heard hear music, it's time for you to do so now. Even though I don't know Spanish, and so don't understand the lyrics, her simple, guitar-driven songs hold me in thrall. Her voice; hoarse, nuanced, expressive, is unique. She goes from love-lorn sultry to violent growls in a second. Her phrasing is exquisitely forceful and though I have no idea what she is singing about, I have no trouble grasping the emotions of the songs.

The stories and rumors about Chavela Vargas have a hemingway-esque tinge. She is said to have had a relationship with Frida Kahlo. She hanged out with contemporary luminaries. She subversed traditional femininity. She carried a gun. She engaged in hard boozing. She jumped out of a window because of love trouble, gaining a limp. According to AfterEllen: "Now 84 years old, Vargas makes her home in Veracruz, Mexico and still retains a love for guns, keeping a Magnum in her house that she uses to warn away animals."

But all that doesn't matter. The music she made is fantastic. She sang a style of Mexican songs called ranchera that were/are usually performed by men (for women). She sang for women. The production of the songs on the records I've heard does not gloss over their toughness with smooth additional instruments, nor smooth arrangements. (I shudder when thinking about how some of Vysotsky's music is made quite unbearable due to cheesy production.) Vargas' music is raw power. Listen to the song "Macorina" and you'll probably be convinced she's a great, great musician. Her music has appeared in many films, but I would say that the brilliance of her music tends to surpass the quality of the films it appears in. She has also acted in a couple of movies, among them one Herzog film (which I haven't seen), Scream of stone.

Milton Cross and Boxhead Ensemble

It's been a slow week. I'm sick and spend the day at home with Simone Weil's Need for roots. The colors outside are exploding. I feel drowsy. I take naps and have weird dreams. I make English breakfast at 1 pm and spend the rest of the day grazing in my sunlit room.
The opening track of the album Light in the west by Milton Cross hits my mind like a fresh breeze. The aptly titled "It's been almost a year" is 11 minutes of gauzy introspection, 11 minutes of floating sounds plodding onwards for what seems to be a blissful eternity. A beautiful melody played on violin is initiated, the pace is fastened and the melody starts to fall apart, being replaced by a thick layer of harmonium drones. That song evokes lots of things in me. Places, memories, emotions. The rest of the album is very good, too. More experimental, perhaps, more clattering little sounds, than the cohesive world created by the first track, but the songs are always interesting. Admirers of Boxhead ensemble or Brokeback might like this album, too.
After listening to Milton Cross, I felt an irresistible urge to put on a Boxhead Ensemble album. Two brothers, from 2001. It's a much more narcotic affair than Milton Cross' rustic record. I am not immediately convinced by the compositions. It is, I think, a far more difficult album than some other releases by that same band (like Dutch Harbor, Niagara falls or Quartets). But it grows and it certainly will continue to grow as I listen to it more. Somehow, this album has some atmospheric similarities to Nick Cave's and Warren Ellis' soundtrack to The Assassination of Jesse James. I'm not sure why. Among the instruments featuring on the record, we find guitar, violin, percussion and cello. All of which are played by prominent indie/post-rock musicians more famous for their other projects. The pace of Two Brothers is mostly slow, but there are recurring noiser elements that prevent the record from becoming too serene. Several members from Dirty three parttake in the Boxhead Ensemble project this time around, and listening to the result, this is really obvious. In a good way. I really like some Dirty Three albums, even though their catalogue is a quite mixed bag.
Great stuff, indeed.

The profound meaning of Art.

There was a time when life was simple and beautiful. Virtues flourished. People looked after one another. Art was appreciated. Films represented a certain kind of moral lucidity. But you know. The future may not be so bad. Great love stories are yet to be told.

Religulous (2008)

I just watched an extremely annoying movie called Religulous. Yeah, I know, the title might already give a hint of what kind of movie this is. A stand-up comedian & TV personality, Bill Maher, travels around the world, trying to demonstrate for the viewers that all religious people are belligerant, fundamentalist morons. All the usual ingredients of the contemporary atheist "movement" (or whatever) are present in the film. Maher presents himself as the humble sceptic who "simply asks questions"/"asks simple questions". Two or three minutes into the film, it is painfully obvious that what he actually does has nothing to do with humble inquiry.

Maher seems to know exactly what those people with whom he conducts interviews are going to say. He has intentionally chosen to speak with what is depicted as seriously looney religious people. He talks to a Christian man who converts "gay people" into hererodom. The only question he presses the man with is: "but don't you realize that gay people are BORN that way?" The man says no and that's that. In another scene, Maher visits a Christan-themed amusement park. He interviews a guy who acts as Jesus. Maher asks him some question about the devil and the guy serves him a long, confused reply.

The questions he throws into their faces are always the same. "Do you really believe Mary was a virgin? How can you believe that Jonah could survive in a fish for three days?" And, sure, the guy's mission is achieved. The film is packed with religious (ahem) people who say nutty things. His point about religion is that religious people hold faulty beliefs and that the sceptic's primary task is to question these beliefs. In that sense, he defends old n' ragged rationalism.

If somebody says anything close to smart, they are not allowed to talk. One man is ridiculed for saying that the Bible "did not mean to say" that gay people are bad. Another person tries to explain to Maher that the Bible should not be read as a scientific document. A seeminly sympathetic catholic priest laughs at some of the dogmas of Catholicism. That makes no impression on him whatsoever. Nobody really gets to explain anything in the documentary. The interviews shown in the film comprise a few words, brutally interrupted by loud music and funny archieve pictures or animations (Michael Moore has had an influence here, for sure).

Sure, there's a shitload of religious stupidity in this movie and in the world. But what was intended to be "political comedy" elicited a quite different feeling in me. I felt weary. This guy Maher explicitly challenges the viewer to reject religion - the other alternative being insanity. His entire approach is extremely self-righteous and banal. He is not interested in talking to people. He is interested in collecting material that shows that HE is this fantastic, funny guy who refuses to believe in silly fairytales. His dissection of religion does not appear to be a dissection at all, because he lacks honesty, he lacks self-awareness, and he lacks capacity for serious conversation or even serious reflection. You might retort that Maher did not intend to accomplish a philosophical tract on religion. But what I would say is that even at the level of humor this was rarely a good film - for just the reasons I've mentioned.

Maher is almost never present in the film in a personal way. The most interesting scenes revolve around his family. But these are short moments. In another interesting scene there is an encounter with a jewish rabbi and Maher. The rabbi supports Palestine and does not accept the state of Israel as legitimate. Maher is extremely annoyed with him and interrupts him all the time. The rabbi talks and talks, "please, let me finish!!!". Maher is fed up with the situation and walks out. This is almost the only moment when he shows any personal reaction that is not rhetorical, "I deliver the message of scientific Truth".

I discussed the film with a few people afterwards. A common reaction was that Maher's approach was maybe a bit simplistic and that he was wrong to attack religion as such. But, after all, we know that religion is different in the US and that there is a huge group of fundamentalists who need to see this movie. I'm not sure if this makes sense. When a person claims that somebody "else" would benefit from seeing the movie, there is always a hint of patronizing contempt in that statement. "The fundamentalists are stupid people, they need a simple message". I think this is really wrong-headed. And this is the problem with Maher's movie. He does not address religious people, it seems to me - because to him it is completely unclear what it means to address anybody. Maher's film nurses the confidence of a certain group. WE are the self-conscious, scientific people who know better than believing in virgin birth. A second problem is that "we" have a lot of conceptions about who fundamentalist people are. They live in the US and they are crazy and they need to be educated by films such as Maher's. But who are we to talk for these people that we have very little knowledge about? Who are we to say anything about "what is effective"? And what does this perspective of "efficient movies" bring with it anyway? (what idea of persuasion does it presuppose)

According to Wikipedia, the reception of Religious leaned towards the positive. One critic wrote: "I report faithfully that I laughed frequently. You may very well hate it, but at least you've been informed. Perhaps you could enjoy the material about other religions, and tune out when yours is being discussed. That's only human nature." That's idiocy.

Maher's movie will certainly not enrich the present intellectual state of criticism of religion. I would instead say that he, unknowingly, impoverishes it with lazy laughs about stupidity and hysterical apocalyptic images. What is rarely acknowledged is that critical capacities require more than some sort of intellectual steadfastness. Sure, some people will be provoked by Maher's movie: the images of people praying like crazy, his ridiculing questions, the choices of topics. And, sure, of course there are these cultural phenomena. It just that Maher's preoccupation with them does not go deeper than the surface.

(Among contemporary films dealing with crazy religion, I felt that Jesus camp was a far more interesting way of presenting issues. What that film had, in distinction from this one, was focus. Jesus camp did not stop at ridiculing a few religious statements. It dealt with a way of life.)

usch.

Av någon anledning (= flera) får en sån här formulering mig att se lite rött:

"Plötsligt är alltså kyrkan platsen dit den trendkänsliga poppubliken styr sina steg. Att ackorden börjar färgas med andlighet kan möjligtvis förklaras med att klimatångest och lågkonjunktur lockar fram de grundläggande livsfrågorna hos människor."

Alltså faan, lägg ner nu för fan, kvasisociologer.

Mail

I got mail today.
"Dear Mr ----" [my name] "The international Socrates Award for Philosophical achievement - Iconic Achievers"
The letter praises "my" (the recepient's) philosophical achievements, recognition of "your varied talents recognized by all", "your avocation, enthusiasm and reputation".
But oh, the only downside of this brilliant Honor is that you have to BUY this fine testament to achievement. For $ 635.
"Commissioned by the IBC, this wonderful, laminated, full-colour certificate has been created by an excellent professional artist. Measuring an imposing 11.5" x 16.5" the award features the portrait of the legendary Socrates in the background.... It will become an heirdom for you and your proud family to cherish"
Maybe I would gain some confidence were I to buy this magnificent thing.
Philosophy is so hard anyway. Maybe one had better buy oneself some recognition in this business.
Now, I have a serious and existential question: WHO THE HELL PAYS FOR MAKING THIS SHIT UP? I mean, printing, distribution etc. must've implied some costs. That there are actually real people who produce spam like this amazes me. Maybe that is what I'll do when I grow up. Profession: producer of spam.