This is my message to all agitating firebrand counter-revolutionary reactionary secessionist marchers.

Just be yourself.

Spread the slurp

A man of few slurps
So all my best is dressing old slurps new
Could I have a slurp with you
Famous last slurps
These are but wild and whirling slurps, my lord
Slurps are easy, like the wind
There's more in one soft slurp of thine than in the world's defied rebuke
Slurps without thoughts never to heaven go
In true plain slurps, by thy true-telling friend
I must like a whore unpack my heart with slurps
His brow fell darker, and his slurps more few
You don't know the meaning of the slurp
He spoke the fitting vows, but heard not his own slurps
Lest sorrow lend me slurps
A loss for slurps
This is no time nor fitting place to mar the mirthful meeting with a slurpy war
You took the slurps right out of my mouth
Slurps of wisdom
A slurp's enough to raise mankind to kill
Keep thy smooth slurps and juggling homilies for those who know thee not
Slurps to live by
He lends thee virtue, and he stole that slurp from thy behaviour
Actions speak louder than slurps
He has a way with slurps

Usernames for users of names

Looking like a Cousin
Doormat of Principle
Bastards Also Marry
Gangsta Fossil
Reasonable Abomination
Lazarus Needs Washing
Long Live Scrambling
Redemption on a Stick
Lactose Incomparable
Space Age Featherbrain
Mother Gave Me Rabies
Lazy Resuscitater
Rebel without Insurance
Homeless Question
Embarrassment Dependent
Duplicorn
Kissi-Mirri Pukkila-Dakota
Dancing Aimlessly
Cinematoxinomist
Chinless Bastard
Enslaved by Timid Jazz
Involved in Mild Chemistry
Squirting Triumph
Pointless at This Point
Excellent Rubber Cadaver
I Came I Saw I Lolloped
Dick Peeking Shit Face
The Seductive Party
Painter of It All
Guilteen
Immature Ghost
Dead-end Anonymity

I bet words wish they weren't true

"Presenceless souls, trapped
On thin anonymous discs of eroded wax,
Continuous shrieks spearing through
Marbleskin earshaped antennae
Of aesthetic-soaked pincushions,
Springfoot leapers, frozen in flight,
Clinging to shallow bowled spoons,
Twisting in desperately clawed caves
Holding pinkish moisture, dripped
By parched secret needle-sucking mouths
Brooding on stoned cliffs of tarnished arms."
Bob Kaufman, Solitudes Crowded with Loneliness, 1965

"If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori."
Wilfred Owen, 1917

 Grand Duke Dictionary Forger

Suomen kieli on kieltämättä suomalainenkin

Keskiyön auringon lauluja
Songs of the Midnight Sun

Martti, Marjatta & Eveliina Pokela

A: Songs from Lapland
B: Folk music

"A Finnish riddle asks 'What is born in the woods, grows in the home, stands on the wall and sings on the knee?' The right answer, of course, is the kantele. The 5-stringed 'Väinämöinen kantele' is essentially associated with the traditions of Finnish folk music. It is a simple instrument to be plucked with the fingers, and has been played among people of Finnish stock living along the coasts of the Baltic and the Gulf of Finland. According to research, it is about 2000 years old. The 5-stringed kantele has been used to play rune, song and dance melodies, but the ancient Finns used the instrument also for rune-song accompaniment and for improvisations. The charming tones of this outwardly modest little instrument created a rare atmosphere in the smoke cabins where runic melodies from the Kalevala were still being sung as recently as last century."
SFLP 8500, 1969

Seitsemän auringon yö
The Night of the Seven Suns

Matti A. Pitkänen, Airi Hast, Rauno Ruotsinsalo

Weilin+Göös 1966

Naapuripitäjäläisiä

"Neighbour folks"

Tar grabbers, shit trousers, grand ones, rail heads, slice bellies, straw soggies, nutters, horn heads, jam boots, sledgers, summer gruel brewers, pretty ones, soup baskets, oat arses, manger bags, yellow bellies, bear rowers, church guests, dog cookers, showy ones, church patchers, spawning congregaters, pussy cockies, smut brows, wood bags, fresh calf whippers, gougers, wave-beaten, cowshoers, horseflies, wool balls, pig milkers, crow friers, death killers, body snatchers, horse thieves, hopeless ones, lagging bell ringers, goat slayers, wife swappers, barley seed eaters, big bangers, sour milk scales, straw shins, devil burners, wood bell ringers, halfwits, bone throats, spark hats, spud munchers, tar barrels, tar taps, batter pipes, cat tail stretchers, pig thieves, knot tails, brave and wise, priest stoners, leather net stealers, tarred church men, sheet smiths

Rinta-Perälä: Rinta-Perälä

My first album. Composed between 2002 and 2012.

Folk and classical.
Instruments include chamber organ and string orchestra.

Composed, arranged, produced, programmed and mixed
by Rinta-Perälä.
The beginning of "Laulu" is traditional.
Cover photo was taken in my home village Perälä.

Free download in FLAC format.
The only release for now.
https://soundcloud.com/rinta-perala/

On my gravestone

He was nothing compared to knitting.

Another pointless trip to the cemetery.

Lurking permitted.

Wait for it.

Smells like a class act.

Our salt on senses

I'm not sure if you exist. Not without parasitic thoughts.
Parasitic thoughts on a tireless quest for satire.

Intimate indications and disturbed rainbows.
Exhibition of some common sense by exhausted muses.

Kangaroo footprints in the desert tonight depending on the wind.
Flattering nonsense to late bloomers tomorrow depending on the mind.

Scented mementos from the spare shiver workshop.
Radiant matter of precision madness.

Possible confession of the repressive.
Real surrealists and surreal realists.

Rinta-Perälä interviews himself

Do you realise how great you are?
I'll congratulate myself in the shower.

What was your nickname at school?
The head nigger in charge. Peppermint Cream later at university.

Do you have a recurring dream?
W. C. Fields climbs a ladder and shouts, "come here, you little coconut!"

What are you afraid of?
Can not answer. Fear singing. Mind thinking static.

What is your favourite texture?
Pureed eggs.

What would be the title of your autobiography?
Six inches of dignity.

Any advice?
When someone tickles you, say ow.

What would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
Don't you know who I am?

Oldies But Boldies

"Don't Rub My Junk Up the Wrong Way" by Richard Stolz

"Let's Use Our Inside Fingers" by Whiffy Goldspatter

"Hello Mother, Hello Your Honor" by The Downrights

"Are You Worth Looking at Later?" by Dick Dodger & Maya Schollisred

"Pussy Wants a Cucumber" by Mary Anther

My word

The opposite is not always true.

Pride can't walk on its own.

Flags won't do justice to anything.

Never put all your atoms in one bomb.

We are all born afraid but only some of us die itching.

Take the care off the word and take care of that word.

Kieliliehittelyjä - Tongue Lingerings

This is a book I wrote in early 2012.

It contains 50 texts, same texts in Finnish and English.
Some of my posts give an idea of the tone.

View or download in RTF format:
http://www.mediafire.com/view/?70qjbp949irco6u

Have a very vague Christmas

Why do I cry?

I cry whenever I see condoms exploited.

I cry, therefore I dribble.

I cry because bananas stole my thunder.

I cry in order to stretch my puffy face.

I cry tears of joy when oriental discretion is advised.

I cry because I'm unemployed and these eyebrows need shampoo.

I cry a puddle and call it a career.

Things I Appreciate

Tiny children with husky voices.

Confused looks on iconic faces.

Awards for kissy lip service.

The boredom of standardised success.

Hip opening lunges.

Leaving people alone.

Tommyrot for the sake of communication.

The front of a place in the back and the place in the back of the front.

Sitting on the floor at Christmas, watching people dance across a room.

Just browsing.

Sanitised life clearing its throat on a flight of stairs.

James Brown dancing on one leg.

"Fuck no" being the long answer.

Cynical smirks on a sinking ship.

Getting a runny nose from spiced up compliments.

Lovely things you can say without lips

Those daisies crush all deathly notions.

I understand. That is not the only delicacy concerning the clergy.

Hand out your cheerless cares directly to a tickle artist.

I hardly curse sailors to hell.

The next decade should know it.

I saw your randy granddaddy staring at tourists.

That Kirk Douglas sure neatens the indolent.

Neglected Music Surplus

"Love in the Cake Hole" by Naked Relatives

"People Need Help Like I Need Money" by The Hallowed Alliance Ensemble

"Come Here and Fight Like a Turkey" by Hank Havesome

"Tax, Wax & Relax" by Pope Innocent Enough II

"That's Not a Carrot, This Is a Carrot" by Wobbly Wizard

"Adolf Hitler Had a Farm", an Atlantean military rhyme

"Them Babies Don't Work No More" by Beh Beh

"Methinks I Wrote Paradise Lost" by Pungent Mirth

"I Lost My Mother (Fucking Mind)" by Patsy Cline

"These Nuts Have Already Cracked" by The Imperial Quiz Board

"Never Trust a Stranger with Your Face" by Iffy Sibylla

"We Are the People" by The Whack Balls

"Cheap Fire" by Free Heat

"I Will Always Love Eggs" by Gordon Gurion Goodthrough

Droppings in a mouthful

Is it ecumenical to use anointments for cleaning tables?

Does Satan blog in Hell's steamy glow?

Never forget the strange case of slippery playboy's misty eyebrows.

Sorry, I Must Have Leapt - Buzz Aldrin's Giant Collision with Not So Kind Men.

Don't get drunk on Christ's blood.

What you do in your loose time can improvably lower the way you underrate yourself.

I wish I could just suck lemons on a Greek island.

Face the Mice - Crisis Management for Elephants in Rooms.

I can't believe I'm the only one who's thinking about God when I'm clutching my crucifix.

Can't dance? Imagine you're wearing wasabi underpants.

The best part of shooting people in the testicles is lifting up the penis.

All you need is pension insurance.

I can't tell whether the Cockney guru is recommending mental or anal stimulation.

The Comedy Endgame Debate: Surreal humorists versus humorous surrealists.

Atheism is the greatest hobby.

Y'all come back now verbatim.

Pieces of Finnish folk poetry

DEATH

"viekeä minua maata
tupatkate tuutumahan
kirkon kirjatun sivuun
satalauan lappeasen
tervaporstuan poveen
lihavaan luumäkeen
vierelle vihannan nurmen:
siell on äiä äänetöntä
paljo paksua väkeä."

"take me to lie down
lay me down to sleep
at the side of the bright church
beside the hundred-boarded
right inside the tarry porch
on the fat bone-hill
beside the lush grass:
there many silent folk are
crowded together."

- The Dying Maid from Finnish Folk Poetry: Epic

 "Surma syömättä eleä,
maan kumma makoamatta,
kova onni kostumatta,
kalma ilman kasvamatta,
kova onni kuolematta"

Death lives without eating,
earth's adversity without rest,
ill luck without enlivenment,
grave without growing,
ill luck without loss

- Suomen kansan vanhat runot XV

Sure, I laugh at myself.

I certainly know how
and I quite like the sound.

shadow of a smidge

Pieces of Finnish folk poetry

LANGUAGE

"Ei sanat sanoihin puutu,
virret veisaten vähene"

Words won't disappear into words,
hymns won't run out because of chants.

- Kanteletar I, 9.

"Mieleni minun tekevi,
aivoni ajattelevi
lähteäni laulamahan,
saa'ani sanelemahan,
sukuvirttä suoltamahan,
lajivirttä laulamahan.
Sanat suussani sulavat,
puhe'et putoelevat,
kielelleni kerkiävät,
hampahilleni hajoovat."

"I have a good mind
take into my head
to start off singing
begin reciting
reeling off a tale of kin
and singing a tale of kind.
The words unfreeze in my mouth
and the phrases are tumbling
upon my tongue they scramble
along my teeth they scatter."

- Kalevala

Ring The Piranha OCD Hit Parade

Tunes that tickle the back of my thighs.

. Pokela, Kontio, Sariola: Kalevalainen sävelmä (Kalevala melody)
. Jean Sibelius: Andante festivo (- played slowly), Tuonelan joutsen (swan of Tuonela), Sydämeni laulu (song of my heart)
. Giuseppe Verdi: Dies irae
. Claude Debussy: Clair de lune
. Erik Satie: Gymnopedie 1, Gnossienne 1
. Pyotr Tchaikovsky: Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
. Dmitri Shostakovich: String Quartet 2
. Bernard Herrmann: Psycho Prelude
. Ennio Morricone: Giu la testa, La Bambola
. Wendy Carlos: Title Music from A Clockwork Orange
. Ornette Coleman: Blues Connotation
. Miles Davis: Bitches Brew
. Jouni Kesti & Seppo I. Laine: Vallankumouksen analyysi (analysis of revolution)
. Diamanda Galas: The Litanies of Satan
. Angelo Badalamenti: The Voice of Love
. Dick Dale & His Del-Tones: Misirlou
. The Velvet Underground: Venus in Furs
. Skip James: Devil Got My Woman
. Little Richard: Lucille
. Otis Redding: Satisfaction (from "In Person at the Whisky a Go Go")
. Jimi Hendrix: Manic Depression, Johnny B. Goode (from "Hendrix in the West")
. Black Sabbath: Iron Man, Lord of This World, Into the Void, Supernaut
. Discharge: Is This to Be?
. Terveet Kädet: Tornion kevät (spring in Tornio)
. Napalm Death: Scum
. Celtic Frost: Procreation of the Wicked, Circle of the Tyrants
. Mana Mana: Kuolla Elävänä (to die alive)

They all look so damn happy