The City of the Dead

Years ago, I had the privilege of being a first-row spectator on the floor of the global-experimental project for a few years. From a windswept roof-over-head view in an allotment district, I looked into one of the mini-metropolis of Copenhagen’s Walled Cities*, Islands Brygge. As a massive and daily growing wall 500 meters wide, several kilometers long and anywhere between 5-15 storeys high, within a decade a monster of a district has been erected along the south-eastern part of the harbour. Perhaps 20,000 people, the equivalent of a half-sized provincial town has been crammed into about one square kilometer.

In the same period, Copenhagen had fostered similar monster projects: Ørestaden, Nordhavnen, Kalveboderne, Sydhavnen, Amager Strand. The Port of Copenhagen and the adjacent areas have been urbanized from being the city’s industrial areas and green pockets – productivity on the one hand and oxygen supply on the other – to become a huge battlefield and playground for profitable and speculative building construction.

These localities – and they are only a fraction of the Copenhagen overall project for urban development, this wonderful euphemistic expression that we absolutely MUST love! – implies a piece of Copenhagen’s history and culture that has now been razed to the ground. Some were not worth saving – we want to look at a stinking soy cake factory – but others were a piece of culture.

*Kowloon Walled City a now demolished district in Hong Kong of dilapidated high-rise buildings. In its interior was a throng of people who tried to survive by running petty trades while they lived there. The place formed a long wall of buildings so dilapidated that it was constantly raining down through the floors.
It forms the visual design style for the Tech-Noir classic movie, Blade Runner, where Harrison Ford is chasing replicants while yellow poisonous rain falls.
There are a whole lot who live on the lower levels, and then there are a few who live above it all.

Kowloon Walled City, Hong Kong

In other words, Walled City was either something in Hong Kong or in a Ridley Scott film from the late 70s. True, but there are a number of disturbing features of the Walled Cities of the metropolises in these times, which remind us of the sci-fi thriller’s on the one hand rotten and on the other thoroughly aestheticized universe. Blade Runner became an almost prophetic warning of the modernist designer decay aesthetic.

This is how they like to portray Bryggen: delicious and by the water:
As they say in real estate: location-location-location.

Islands Brygge is an icecold, calculated project. Which is my claim, I will now argue for it, after which you are welcome to quote me for it. A string of generations of willing politicians – a generation in this world is only four years, even if they fantasize about eternal life – have allowed themselves to be seduced by industry lobbyists to give the green light to such urban projects. To that extent, it started with a Social Democratic Lord Mayor named Jens Kramer Mikkelsen, who opened Pandora’s box and launched the Ørestads project. It is perhaps strange to those who suffer from the ideology poisoning of the 20th century that it was precisely the social democrats who were responsible for this sort of thing. But if you look at the history of communism/socialism it is completely logical. Study the bleak building style of concrete communism, study the social democratic pink-and-fluffy version of the style, same-same. Note also how, in just a few decades, this pink fluffyness transforms into ugliness, decay, slum, squalor and violence. Kramer was in many ways both a friendly and likeable Lord Mayor, but behind the surface of the soft, delicious, pink social democracy there hid – and we can only see it in retrospect – an agent of the globalism that has hit us today and is now destroying our society and culture. I don’t really think that Kramer and Kramer-like types before and after him realized what they were contributing to. He was just a semi-corrupt servant, at these kind of politicians always go for an epitaph for themselves into the future. But the global money men knew it.

The chairman of the Ørestad committee at the then building site

The Ørestads project became a textbook example of what went wrong then and still goes wrong for Concrete Modernism 2.0. One has learned certain things from the mistakes of modernism, but by and large one is driving off the same side track destination-Hell. What has been learned seems to be: concrete modernism can be made up and softened via design and experience projects. Give the people fun bridges, designer benches and mini amphitheaters they can sit on, cute (and highly expensive) wooden docks, cobblestone walkways, weird sculptures, and all that stuff. Some of it is, admittedly, very nice and fancy, but it’s still designer makeup. The designers and architects enjoy themselves, but the problem is that they create nothing in themselves. They play with shapes while patching the holes in the architectural Behemoth. The actual creation always takes place in the lived life.

Finally something is happening at Langebro…

What do I mean by that? The actual creation of housing, cities, habitats for people only happens via the life lived by people. This is what the city planners have basically not understood – or rather: don’t care about, since it is something completely different that governs their planning. The life lived requires no real planning, it only requires that life be lived. The problem for the planners, the cultural designers, is that the lived life cannot be planned but requires time to unfold, which they do not have time or patience for, as their business plan requires realization in the shortest possible term. This is why a village appears as an organism, whereas Wall City appears as a piece of architectural violence.
Read: We live in uglyness but dream of beauty

Since the planners in reality have a bad conscience – that is, they know very well that it is the moneymen and the globalists who have set it all in motion, and that they have simply ended up as serving spirits and fellow runners – they compensate by holding resident hearings, where they apparently take the citizens for advice. They just don’t, because the decisions have already been made, which the residents don’t know, but if the residents just feel that they are being heard, they won’t be able to complain afterwards, because they are now taken hostage in the decision mill.

What actually controls the planning of the planners? As a former employee of an architectural firm (CAD draftsman), I know the classic conflict between client and architect. The builder works for himself and the money, everything must be as cheap and immediately profitable as possible. The architect serves his own artistic ambitions (after all, the architect is an artist, not just a craftsman – he believes), but also an idealist with an ambition to create quality and durability. Take one guess who will walk away with the victory, and then guess why the gap between new construction and dilapidated slums has become smaller and smaller. The architect is not acquitted in this game, where ongoing and insidious corruption and prostitution take place. The point is that there are very powerful forces operating that ultimately win because architects, scientists, technocrats, politicians and other lower-ranking creeps (according to the money men) are deeply dependent on having a job, and without a stoic servitude to the money men, the earning classes should not expect to have a job or anything resembling a career.

In the real world, this is not the architect. It is the globalist.

Also, ask the architects – just for fun – if they are willing to move into their own creations. Ask the builders about the same. Ask the pharmaceutical manufacturers how much of their own poison they eat. Ask the doctors if they will allow themselves to have chemotherapy if they get cancer. Ask the used car dealers if they drive around the rusty junk they sell. Ask the politicians if they send their children to the multicultural primary schools they themselves have praised, or move into the multicultural neighborhoods of Kbh-NV, which they praise. Or ask them if they send their sons into the American wars they have led DK into while their tails were wagging. Ask the bankers if they and their family run the debt economy that they have sold to their customers. There is a marked absence of willingness to walk-the-talk among decision makers and sales agents in the world we live in. None of the above do what they say or say what they do. Double standards are the standard of our time.

Bryggen

If you haven’t been there recently, or if you live in Jutland or Volgograd – If you haven’t been to Islands Brygge recently, it looks like this:

The fact that Ballonparken (pictured), HF Bryggen and Nokken are still there is possibly due to a Christiania-like outcry that would arise if the last old Bryggen was murdered.

Indre Islands Brygge has of course not been demolished, and contains the old streets with houses from the late 1800s. However, these have been urban renewed, and the Copenhagen life that once existed is no longer present. Today, it is primarily a hipster-new-semi-rich neighborhood mixed with the presence of the Social Democratic mandatory and legitimizing 15-20% normal income Danes, who also struggle with double income like little pigs to afford to live there. We are talking about 10-15,000 Danish kroner per month for the cheapest ones.

The landscape architects also got something to work on. There is nothing like artificial nature. And wooden sheds in Ballonparken are known to make the architects suspicious. Because people can both design and build these kinds of houses themselves, and if it caught on, they as architects would become redundant.

Moving outward, the model is the same, but here something strange happens. First, it’s terrifying to move around neighborhoods of all steel-aluminum-glass-concrete, all boxes equipped with balconies of course, although no one uses them. Streets after streets of streamlined boxes of at least 7-storey complexes, all looking alike, although the architectural firms would be offended by the statement. Only companies in the Bjarne Ingels league are allowed to break the box pattern, but in reality they just make crooked, slanted or round boxes instead of straight. Right now, for example, we are seeing the round trend at Islands Brygge, after a couple of round concrete monsters at the Slangebroen (snake bridge) from Fisketorvet (it came later) were renovated from the silos in the old soy cake factory. Quite easily inspired by the renovation of the brewery Carlsberg’s old grain silo, which has also become a tower of Babel for the wealthy. Renovating the concrete shell of the silos and transforming them into ultra-luxury apartments has cost twice as much as building something similar from scratch – but who cares, when today you can rent out an apartment for between 25-40,000 per month via built-in story count.

Silos for people with fat wallets

And here comes the interesting question: who buys and lives in these apartments? This applies to both apartments in the ultra-luxury class and in the new ‘normal’ class. The fact is that a large number of these apartments are empty. People who actually live there have moved into ghost towns. If they are not actually empty, then the neighbors of the supposed inhabitants rarely see their neighbors.

Just as speculatively are the buildings constructed and financed, just as speculatively are they bought up. This is not a Copenhagen phenomenon, it is a global phenomenon. London is no longer British because there are no longer British people living there. If you drive on the highway from the airport to Giza in Cairo, you see 100,000s of dead apartment complexes with window holes staring at you. Beirut was bombed by the globalists (Zionists) in the 60s, and today it is a huge speculation project for globalized apartment speculation. A drive along the ring road in Paris shows the same. Name a big city where it doesn’t take place.

So who buys apartments at Islands Brygge? Evidently, and to a large extent, globalized emerging new-rich’ do. They don’t intend to live there, but they have invested to use the apartments as a kind of AirB&B for themselves when they are in town between two million deals. They keep them until they are ready to sell for double the price and some have maybe 10-20 of them. Perhaps they have bought a whole riser, because then they do not have a residence requirement. After which they rent them out – i.e. without a residence requirement, because the cockservative state does not make such unreasonable demands in the century of globalism.

Here live the rich who can afford not to live there.

Is Bryggen a normal residential area? Well, normality has shifted in that direction, and today the norm is multi-storey dormitory neighborhoods as far as the eye can see. No small traders workshops on the corners, no local shops, no places to eat or drop in, no places to hang out in squares, no playgrounds for children for the dinco’s (double income, no kid) no-fucking-nothing! Bryggen is surprisingly lacking in experience. Bryggen consists of endless streets of dead facades and parked cars. There is no street life, there is no local environment, there are no happy children between the houses, because there really is nothing between the houses!! The single curling children who may be are not send down in the yard without the father being there, because that does not seem secure.

The city of the dead

Walled Cities are the cities of death. In Walled City Hong Kong, life went on despite death via the special Chinese survival mentality. The City of Death is not just an unfortunate by-product, it was a thought right from the start. In the metropolis Walled Cities of Europe, death is smack-in-the-face. The hipsters to and from Bryggen cycle by the thousands through the City of the Dead with their hipster stone-face on. Eye contact is extremely rare. They are busy, because a hipster is always late to bed and late to rise – just like their children. On the road over the rickety Slangebro at Fisketorvet, they put themselves in danger, as it is the city’s fastest bobsleigh track on the first frosty day of winter. Or they sit in their hipster cars with one person each in a streamlined sardine can in a stagnant queue. According to the city planners’ planning, we all have to go the same way in the morning, but on the other hand, the planners cannot understand that this causes major traffic, logistical and environmental problems. Centralization is centralizing itself to death.

In the City of Death, there is extremely heavy traffic during rush hour. People who live there say that it is so difficult to cross the road in the morning that after waiting for five minutes they have to walk across the street with their children and just expect the cars to hold back. Good luck to you!

In the City of Death, on the other hand, it is so dead in the evening that a woman can be raped in the middle of an open street without anyone intervening. The only reason why Walled City Bryggen is not decidedly violent is that it seems to be the sad remnants of the middle class who move in here and not white & brown trash – excuse the expression – like in the satellite towns Brøndbyerne, Ishøj, Hundige, Voldsmose in Odense, Gjellerup in Århus, Hyllie in Malmö. The list is endless, every big city in the world has something like this.

In the City of Death, there are major problems with wind tunnels when it is windy. The architects have apparently not found a solution to the problem, which they apparently never anticipated, as they apparently did not learn about it in architecture schools. The huge steel and glass facades create eel-smooth channels for wind. A problem that has not been seen so glaringly before, since architecture has never been so unidirectional, streamlined, tall-and-dense, without round edges and wind-breaking decorations as it is now – that kind of non-functional nonsense has been spared. I wonder, in 10 years you will be able to read in some media note: Science has now found that decorative facade decoration has aerodynamic wind-modifying properties and is actually functional! Yea right, and they already knew that in the Middle Ages – in addition to the fact that the eye and the soul love this kind of thing.

Up through the middle of the last century, the trend was typical house-villa neighborhoods for middle class people. Each family’s bungalow with a stamp of a garden bordered by private hedges. Boredom lurked in these endless flat suburban neighborhoods, but the illusion of a piece of nature and a small urbanized householder with his own vegetable garden was temporarily preserved. At least you were the master of your own house behind your own hedge under your own roof and with your own cellar. In the City of Death, you are not the master of anything – and good luck with a vegetable garden on a windy balcony.

Because in the City of Death, all people have balconies. Have you recently tried sitting on a balcony in a crosswind wind tunnel? By the way, who is sitting on the balconies? No one has time to sit there, because everyone has to either make money or sit burned-out-apathetic in front of the flat screen. Or no one lives there. If you are in doubt, try driving along the facades yourself on a summer evening. They are totally dead. Occationally you will see a smoker there, but in the Danish wind tunnel western wind a cigarette will smoke itself in 14 seconds.

In the City of Death, there is a Seven Eleven if you are willing to drive two kilometers – i.e. to the original part of Bryggen, which is outside Walled City, the City of Death. Here you’ll find Seven Elevens’s standard assortment of trendy items that the hipster culture is supposed to consume. You will also be able to find a pizzeria, a shawarma joint and the like belonging to the global village designer culture. You are guaranteed to find nothing as unglobalist as a fisherman, a butcher or a hardware store. An old-fashioned grocer can only be found on Frederiksberg Allé four kilometres from Wall City – the higher middle class citizens of 2000 Frederiksberg can afford to maintain a nostalgic relic from previous centuries. And something as arch-Danish – that is, arch-Danish 50 years ago – as a smørrebrød shop is quite unimaginable in Wall City and the surrounding area. The Danes no longer have the feeling that the only original and delicate contribution to world gastronomy is: smørrebrød. In other words, not pseudo-Italian spaghetti with meat sauce, takeaway pizza or fast food from the global village and, for that matter, not trendy designer food from the food magazines either.

In the City of Death – and here it gets weird-o – the sound of helicopters is heard. All Saturday and all Sunday, when the inhabitants of the City of Death are supposed to be at home, the district is flown over by helicopters. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Here, 20,000 people have been crammed together in a condensed square, and then they are exposed to the sound of helicopters, which of all sounds instill fear, terror and stress. All people take a weekend to relax and find peace, and then you expose them to the sounds of military exercises and war. What’s the point? Are we in training? Are we in the initial stages? I asked myself that question, when I wrote this article years ago. Now I know, that they were preparing for war.

The Agenda

The Walled City phenomenon is well described. In the UN’s Agenda 21 – now updated to Agenda 2030 – it is described how the global state (the UN Utopia-Dystopia) wants the rural areas to be depopulated and that people are driven into the metropoles. This development is a 150-year-old invention called Industrialism, but now it is further systematized and completed as Globalism. And the UN is the body that is designed to function as an undemocratic world government.

Is it visionary or is it totalitarian? Jasque Fresco’s Venus Project.

Avant-garde architect Jasque Fresco sketched these hi-tech metropoles decades ago. Today they are being built. These tribute-makers speak in loving terms about the wonders of globalism, neo-feudalism, neo-imperialism, technocracy and transhumanism. They use words like:

We have to get used to the fact that…
In the future, people will…
It is inevitable that…
You can already buy a gadget that…
Progress requires that…
In a few years we will see…

It is interesting that the ‘prophets’ who describe or warn against the horrors of the future are the ones who, on closer inspection, promote the horrors and make themselves available for so-called progress. That is strange! Aren’t Huxley, Russell and Orwell the ones warning? The answer is no, they advertise, they are insiders and represent The Blueprint of the New Order. Fresco has the vision. Kurzweill and Michiu Kaku are rapturous and highly paid promoters of the robot human in the robot rat race in a designer-futuristic world that is already present. Elon Musk is pretending as a defender of free speech, and at the same time he wants to implant a chip in your brain.

Around the Metropolis – but for gods sake not out in the countryside! – lies a glass-steel-concrete rim of satellite cities. According to the agenda, high-speed trains must run between the satellites and the metropols and between the metropols. The real villages have been canceled in favor of the multi-ethnic global village. If you think there are free-range chickens and goats in that village, you’re wrong, because it’s just a sales ploy to make neo-feudalism look delicious and politically correct. The global village is the ULTIMATE slave society, Worldwide.

On the whole, it will be abolished (= forbidden, prevented, wrong) to be self-sufficient, as village people were then. There will be giant Soviet state farm style agricultural factories to provide for that. All re-modified, of course, because it adds volume. Quality is no longer talked about.

In reality, the city planners could have thought this way from the start.
But their commissioners did not want people to have access to that.
Agenda 21/2030 certainly does not recommend this kind of thrive.

It sounds like a projected and executed science-fiction scenario. But in reality only very little was projected, because the scenario is already far from realized. At the time of writing I was looking out at Walled City, the City of the Dead. I am already living in the wet dream of Orwell, Huxley, Russell, Fresco, Kurzweill and the globalists. I had simply ended up in a time pocket, a parenthesis in the form of a Belarusian log house with plum and apple trees, a gas stove, wood tar and wool in the cracks. Thanks to the generosity of my friend Ole. A pocket that will blow to pieces the day the moneymen bribe, seduce or threaten the planners to raze these kinds of unprofitable, living enclaves of unproductive nostalgia to the ground. AND where people let it happen because they didn’t care about their own lives and left decisions to the Merchants of Death.

Outside the walls, on the edge of the City of the Dead.
Over and out, see you on the backside of the Moon.