(If this page seems confusing: I’m writing a Guide to Finland, the chapters of which will appear first as blog posts and then as fixed pages like this. This is the introduction; see the table of contents for more. Since I will recycle some phrases and ideas from my earlier posts, you can see some proto-chapters here.)
Think about it.
A place somewhere. A country. Europe, maybe? Not a newsworthy place — do they have a woman for a president? Goodness gracious me.
Finland, uh, let me think about it. Nokia?
Finland, Finland… Santa Claus?
Do they have polar bears?
* * *
This booklet is about Finland. It is not meant to be a guidebook, and it is not meant to be a history-book either.
This is a booklet that contains the attempts of a Finn — a Finnish person, that is, and that is me — to explain some details and outlines of Finland to people that don’t know much about it.
This audience consists most probably of people that come a-calling to this blog, and to the pages and posts that contain the various parts of this Guide to Finland. They might be exchange students, or those fascinated by the harsh extremes of nature and culture, or — I guess — they might just be people that Google for a random phrase totally unrelated to Finnish things, and end up here.
And, just to facilitate that — “pictures of edible underwear”.
No, you are not missing any pictures. That was just a random phrase to make the people finding this Guide a bit more diverse a crowd.
Trust me. I wrote a Carlin-comedic post on Dead bodies a while ago and I still get weekly Google hits about “thing you can put dead bodies in”.
There’s an audience for everything. Everything.
* * *
I would like to thank all the willing young and lithe Finnish maidens who have aided me in getting a large enough statistical sample of females for my study of their intimate manners, habits and moans.
I would like a pony, too, but you don’t always get all you want. Sometimes you don’t get any.
Ah, a serious and real thank-you, now. I would like to thank the various exchange students I have known over all my years of holding a corner of a rather loathsome shared apartment. Their googly-eyed wonder has led me to believe that there is an audience for true horror stories about this ogrish land of mine. So, exchangers — you know who you are, and I’ve forgotten your names already anyway.
Cheer up. There’s no place for tears in Finland.
The winter’s much too cold, you see.
Masks of Eris
* * *