Reykjavík Grapevine - 06.01.2017, Blaðsíða 12

The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 01 — 2017
12
The Grapevine has always been the sole
media outlet in Iceland that stands
against tyranny and oppression. We
are a brave candle in this dark, dark
land, illuminating and warming all
who read our pages. Whether it’s a
thought-provoking 600-word analysis
of a public swimming facility or cou-
rageously being the only listing ser-
vice that warns you which troubadour
is where, at what time and on what
day, the Grapevine is here to set things
straight. Some would call us heroes,
but we don’t believe in titles—except
the ones we give.
The Reykjavík Grapevine’s “Person
Of The Year Award” goes to the former
Prime Minister of Iceland, Sigmundur
Davíð Gunnlaugsson.
We are here to make right a hor-
rible injustice that has taken place,
no doubt as the result of a secret anti-
Sigmundur cabal within the walls of
Iceland’s national broadcaster, RÚV. He
was denied the RÚV’s Person Of The
Year Award because RÚV doesn’t value a
diversity of voices, in this case the voices
of a vote-bot service with IP addresses
located in Bangladesh. Only votes from
actual tax-paying humans in Iceland
count? More monocultural nationalism
for Sigmundur to fight against!
{
Sigmundur made international head-
lines for his staunch belief in a global
community. He doesn’t even like to
keep his money in Iceland, which,
when you consider the taxes in this
country, makes sense. But when Ice-
landic banks needed money to lend, he
had no problem using his offshore ac-
count money, so long as he was guar-
anteed he would be paid back, support-
ing legislation to make that a reality.
This is a politician, a philanthropist
and a savvy businessman wrapped in
one hauntingly child-like physique.
Other news sources might be
tempted to say: On April the 3rd 2016
the Icelandic nation watched in hor-
ror as the George Soros-sponsored
interviewer and most Swedish Swede
in history, Sven Bergmann, asked Sig-
mundur the now infamous question:
“Mr. Prime Minister, what can you tell
me about a company called Wintris?”
Two days later, Sigmundur resigned,
following the largest protest in Ice-
land’s history.
{
What they won’t say is it was unsea-
sonably warm and sunny that day. Was
it really a protest or were people just
out enjoying the sunshine and taking
a recreational stroll from the houses
Sigmundur Davíð saved for them?
Think about it: If Icelanders were re-
ally that pissed off about politicians
having offshore accounts, why would
a plurality of the country vote for the
Independence Party?
Anyway, what could Sigmundur
Davíð tell the George Soros-lab-creat-
ed clone interviewer Sven Bergmann
about a company called “Wintris”? The
letter “W” isn’t in the Icelandic alpha-
bet and as anyone learning a language
knows it’s hard to explain something
that you’ve never seen. He doesn’t have
time to keep track of everything. He’s a
busy man. He’s lucky if he can get both
shoes on in the morning.
All he did was sign something that
moved 1.2 billion ISK into an offshore ac-
count in the British Virgin Islands. Can
you truly blame a man for wanting to help
his wife save some of the inheritance she
so bravely sued her family to obtain?
{
Sigmundur Davíð, you make every-
thing more interesting and awkward.
You’re one of the four most popular
things on our website, with the others
being the national football team, vol-
canic eruptions, and reminders that
“No, the government will not pay you
to marry an Icelander.” Some might
say you’ve hit a slump, resigning as
Prime Minister and losing the leader-
ship of your party, but we haven’t lost
faith. You’re fearless and delusionally
persistent. If anyone can pull off a sur-
prise comeback, it’s you.

Takk fyrir síðast.
Death is everywhere on New Year’s
Eve. This is the time we choose to pu-
rify ourselves.
The death of time, the death of
memories, the death of ideas.
Champagne, fireworks, masks.
Look to the sky and think about the
things that were taken from you last
year. What you were given. The failure,
the defeat, the struggle. The fervour
and joy, the moments of bizarre kind-
ness, the brief insights into the King-
dom of Love.
Meet yourself in the boardroom of
your mind and bring your resolution
with you. Yes, yes, yes. The resolution.
What a great word. A strong word, a
powerful word. It has a military feel to
it, fitting the occasion.
It’s normal to want to kill a part
of oneself during this time. Kill the
smoker in you, the drinker, the rest-
less poet screaming in traffic. It’s
what you should do. Become a better
person, they say. Become a better ver-
sion of yourself. The best one possible.
This is what they tell you. And to do
this you need to kill yourself. You need
to murder your own flawed character.
The infinite limitations, vices and
shortcomings that make you who you
are. Yes. This is the mission. Execute
yourself. Ruthlessly, spectacularly,
ISIS-style.
The end of you is the beginning of
you. It’s the exact same thing. Religion
understands this. God understands
Time.
…
When you have successfully executed
the old and flawed version of what
once was known as yourself, it’s time
for incorporating desirable qualities
into the carcass.
Your new ghost should be witty, fit
for modern times. I can picture it on
stage, pale and translucent, showering
the audience with clever and progres-
sive jokes about the end of the world.
Yes, it’s the end of the liberal world and
we need witty people more than ever.
Once you’ve killed yourself I’m sure
your 2017 phantom will have some-
thing witty to say about fascism. I’d
really like to hear it. The platforms are
there. Now it’s time to hear it. What’s
your witty take on the spectacle that
was 2016? I’ll retweet it and share it
and write it on a celebrity grave, my
ravishing jester!
Let’s see some irony in everyday
life. There’s not nearly enough of it.
Here’s an idea for your little zombie in
the making, A Style Guide for the Con-
fused and Recently Deceased Person.
Get your Trump Fan Outfit on. The
cap, the Trump 4 President t-shirt, the
501 Levis. Look at yourself. So fucking
beautifully ironic! Haha! Now head to
the next vegan restaurant. Go! Doesn’t
matter a whole lot what you’re having.
The vegan alt-right is here, passionate
about tape recordings, border control
and the environment. Place an order
and sit down. Unleash your Macbook
Air! Put on the headphones. Belle & Se-
bastian maybe? Radiohead will work as
well, Sufjan Stevens a fine option also.
Draw a bit in your Moleskine while you
wait. Draw something meaningless
but weird. Don’t think about God and
Time and Love.
Now they bring you the food. Ask
for mercy, just like they did in ancient
times.
Words: HALLDÓR ARMAND
Photo: ART BICNICK
Share this article: GPV.IS/DIE1
Words: YORK UNDERWOOD
Share this article: GPV.IS/MOTY1
OPINION
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Person Of The Year Award:
Sigmundur Davíð
Gunnlaugsson,
Former Prime
Minister
Die Before You Die
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