Tinet is a cartoonist, illustrator, letterer, graphic designer, editor, translator and pig-keeper.

Other parts of Tinet's internet presence are, for instance:

The main website

Another blog

The Blog of Swine


and some photos on Flickr


<< September 2005 >>
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Favourite entries

¤ Mum and Ainur were visiting
¤ Sunny Saturday
¤ Cheap thrills
¤ Labour Day
¤ Definitely no Sergei Elmgren III
¤ Mum was here
¤ Nordens ark
¤ Cool weather today
¤ Piggies in my bed
¤ Black & white
¤ Two collages
¤ Bankhar mä!
¤ Lilac skies
¤ Kickass industrial sites
¤ Mayday
¤ Views from Pankow and a backyard
¤ Kugelblitz & cuddly 'street art'
¤ Shameless exploitation of workers and communists
¤ Berlin, Berlin
¤ Cuteness
¤ More Berlin
¤ Ouch, my feet ...
¤ Frosty collage
¤ Another fine old house hits the dust
¤ Horror and pigeons
¤ The smooth sides of houses
¤ Streets of Lund 2006
¤ Hungry for Hills
¤ Skärhamn
¤ Foggy sun
¤ Furry puppies
¤ Snow and a sleeping little baby
¤ Around the railway tracks in Lund
¤ The moon
¤ Lund in October
¤ The steaming sea
¤ Misc. scenes from Orust
¤ Territorial disputes
¤ Road Trippin'
¤ Sergei's tail
¤ Yellow
¤ The sleepy kingdom of Princess Mitsu
¤ A house, graffiti and a rook
¤ Green
¤ Feather canyons everywhere
¤ Sky and earth
¤ Misc. perspectives on Orust
¤ Mushrooms
¤ Fauna
¤ Flora
¤ A window
¤ Green landscapes
¤ My babies
¤ Dead house
¤ Dead elk
¤ Views on our home
¤ Pictures from a spontaneous cycling tour
¤ A parking lot in Malmö
¤ Twilight sky
¤ A once nice house
¤ Serpieri, the flying pig
¤ Yukata madness
¤ Rundown allotment garden
¤ Bristly!
¤ Furry!
¤ Home
¤ Dead animals
¤ Ängavallens gård
¤ Gothenburg
¤ One of the 2-3 pictures that actually came out perfect
¤ Where animals travel to their death
¤ Winter in Kävlinge
¤ Orient and Occident - blurry concepts!
¤ My baby is such a tease
¤ Eggs are interesting
¤ Here's the wuffie!
¤ The Carpathians
¤ Anti-kitsch
¤ Sunset over Kävlinge
¤ My cuddlymunchkins
¤ Streets of Lund
¤ Food

¤ Elephant digging up old bones + a burglary
¤ MSU in my subconscious
¤ Bad puppy
¤ The mansion
¤ A dream of menstruation in Sin City
¤ My dreams are so nice sometimes (aka Russian Policewoman)
¤ Desperately trying to reach MGU
¤ Blood, devastation, death, war and horror dream #6
¤ Family life
¤ Dreams, bloody dreams
¤ I need a sword
¤ Tony Blair & Lenin haunt me

¤ My thoughts on the presidential elections in France
¤ Just google it! - Nana version
¤ Meat has it all
¤ The amazing world of Swedish copyright laws
¤ Anna Politkovskaya
¤ It's about time we all get out and vote for love!
¤ Bilal's Nikopol vs. Moore's Promethea: Being possessed by gods and forced to have sex in comics
¤ Tinet's kitchen of pain
¤ The hymen is an evil MYTH!!!

¤ Gouache
¤ Pigasso paintings
¤ The Light comes from the Right
¤ Some kind of Valentine
¤ 2006 - a card and a snow Mitsu
¤ Serilda
¤ Standing on eggshells
¤ Mmm ... surströmming
¤ Rudolfo from the rapeseed fields
¤ The freedom to not choose
¤ Red China Comics
¤ Till alla svenskjävlar som inte klarar av att sätta komma i ert eget språk
¤ The Kostroma Elk farm
¤ The boob diaries part 4 - conclusion
¤ The boob diaries part 3
¤ The boob diaries part 2
¤ Breast cancer can be fun
¤ Why can't I wear a skirt and still be one of the guys?
¤ Garlic update #2
¤ Garlic update
¤ EU garlic is no good against vampires.
¤ I want to learn Maltese!
¤ Dirty men in the public library
¤ The marvels of life #4637
¤ My new life as a one-armed bandit
¤ Severiina exposed
¤ Severiina - a tale of an obsession
¤ On drawing techniques
¤ TschöRmen
¤ I might be going insane.
¤ 15 reasons

Some favourite blogs:

Baci dalla provincia
Yellow Peril

Nyt on yö.
Minä kuljen yksin
tyhjiä katuja.
En tiedä, mihin olen menossa,
hyvä kun tiedän mistä
olen tulossa,
ja ruumiissani
soi tuhat kaunista ja
voimakasta sävelmää,
minun koko menneisyyteni,
ja silmissäni loistavat
tuhannen ihmisen silmät,
silmien takana tuntemattomuus,
tätä naista ei tunne kukaan,
se ei ole vielä täysin syntynytkään,
ei kukaan tiedä
mitä se on tulevaisuudessa.

- Mirka Lattunen


El a întins spre mine o frunză ca o mână cu degete.
Eu am întins spre el o mână ca o frunză cu dinţi.
El a întins spre mine o ramură ca un braţ.
Eu am întins spre el braţul ca o ramură.
El schi-a înclinat spre mine trunchiul
ca un umăr.
Eu mi-am înclinat spre el umărul
ca un trunchi noduros.
Auzeam cum se încetineşte sângele meu suind ca seva.
Eu am trecut prin el.
El a trecut prin mine.
Eu am rămas un pom singur.
un om singur

- Nichita Stănescu

Kunst ist nicht ein Spiegel, den man der Wirklichkeit vorhält, sondern ein Hammer, mit dem man sie gestaltet.

- Karl Marx

The Hermit’s Song

A hiding tuft, a green-barked yew tree
Is my roof,
While nearby a great oak tree keeps me

I can pick my fruit from an apple
Like an Inn,
Or can fill my fist where hazels
Shut me in.

A clear well beside me offers
Best of drink,
And there glows a bed of cresses
Near its brink.

Pigs and Goats, the friendliest neighbours,
Nestle near,
Wild swine come, or broods of badgers,
Grazing deer.

All the gentry of the county
Come to call!
And the foxes come behind them,
Best of all.

To what meals the woods invite me
All about!
There are water, herbs and cresses,
Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey
Are my meat,
Heathberries and Whortleberries
For a sweet.

All that one could ask for comfort
Round me grows,
There are hips and haws and strawberries,
Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle
What a sight!
Marjoram and leeks and pignuts,
Juicy, bright.

Dainty redbreasts briskly forage
Every bush
Round and round my hut there flutter
Shallow, thrush.

Bees and beetles, music-makers,
Croon and strum;
Geese pass over, duck in autumn,
Dark streams hum.

Angry wren, officious linnet
And black-cap,
All industrious, and the woodpecker’s
Sturdy tap.

From the sea the gulls and herons
Flutter in,
While in upland heather rises
The grey hen.

In the year’s most brilliant weather
Heifers low
Through green fields, not driven nor beaten,
Tranquil, slow.

In wreathed boughs the wind is whispering,
Skies are blue,
Swans call, river water falling
Is calling too.

- Unknown old Irish poet

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Monday, October 03, 2005
A house, graffiti and a rook

Click to see it big.

Posted at 5:06 pm by turukhtan
Comments (1)  

Evil videos

I made two new evil music videos with the cuddlemunchkins ...


Unfortunately, I had to cut the music clips after about 2/3, because I didn't have enough video material ...

Posted at 4:43 pm by turukhtan
Comments (1)  

Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Who says working as a newspaper distributor is boring?

This morning was full of excitement.

First, I found a 100 crown bill on the stairs outside a house, wrapped in a receipt from a bar in the vicinities. My initial reaction was, 'wow, 100 crowns!' Then, I thought again, and supposed that if I could find out who it belonged to, I should give it back to them. Then, my thoughts started drifting towards how difficult it (hopefully) would be to find the right person ... until I saw a torn up book dissolving in the rain on a ledge nearby. It was the Bible, and it was opened at a passage from the New Testament. I then started thinking about what a cool character Jesus was, and, well, 'What would Jesus do in this situation?'

Full of remorse for my sinful thoughts I was now determined to find the owner of the 100 crown bill.

No, actually, the thought of Jesus reminded me that material blessings have no meaning. (To me, he was a hippie revolutionary, while I don't believe any of the religious stuff about him being 'the son of god'.) Anyway, I get a salary that covers my basic needs, so what do I need another 100 crowns for? And it was 'just' 100 crowns. (Now, if it had been 1000 ...)
I wrote a note saying 'this was found outside the door', and wrapped the bill and the receipt in the note and left them at the entrance in the hallway of the house.

The next incident was even more interesting. I was climbing the 'scary stairs' mentioned in the entry below. The lights were on when I entered the staircase, and I was just thinking about how it might not be so pleasant if they would automatically go out while I was still in the staircase, and would have to fumble around in the darkness searching for the switch. I turned around a corner.

There was a man sitting on the stairs.

He scared me to death! I froze and stared at him, gasping in horror for several seconds until I realised that he was just a normal human being, albeit with no shirt and very tired and/or a bit drunk.
I then laughed hysterically and tried to explain that I very rarely see any humans this time of the day ... And he was sorry for scaring me.

What I wouldn't give to have seen my face at that moment. It must have been priceless.

At least it's now proven that I don't scream when I get scared. (Thank god. That would have been even more silly ...)

Posted at 6:30 am by turukhtan
Comments (1)  

Monday, September 26, 2005
Scary sounds

Today, when I was climbing a staircase while distributing the papers, I heard strange noises.

The staircase is one of the two I like the least, because I have to climb to the fourth or fifth floor, and the floors in those old houses are at least three meters high, so I have to do a *lot* of climbing. What makes this particular staircase even worse is that it's really narrow. It used to be the staircase to the kitchen entrances of the bourgeois apartments, and it has massive walls in the middle, instead of rails. I get slight pangs of claustrophobia there sometimes.

Today, when I was getting near the top, I started hearing strange sounds from above, as if someone was dragging something heavy across the floor. It was around four AM. I carried the last paper to the fourth floor, and above that, there is just an attic (I once tried - in vain - to see if there could possibly be any way to go through the attic from the main staircase to this 'kitchen' staircase, because the main one has an elevator). The sounds seemed to be coming from the top of the staircase. They stopped for a moment, when I made noises sticking the paper through the slot in the door, and then, they continued again.

I did NOT go upstairs to check what it was.

Posted at 7:21 am by turukhtan
Comments (1)  

Sunday, September 25, 2005
Night lights

Night photography is SO much better when you don't use a tripod ... not.

Posted at 12:37 pm by turukhtan
Make a comment  


This is another piece in the ongoing series "unexpected holes with colour inside them". The previous one was blue.

Posted at 12:35 pm by turukhtan
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Thursday, September 22, 2005
Portraits are best in B&W

After Mihai watched Wong Kar-Wai's 2046, he wanted to have a beard just like the Japanese guy in Mr. Chow's sci-fi stories. I hope he doesn't shave it too soon ...

Posted at 5:24 am by turukhtan
Comments (2)  

Monday, September 19, 2005

Argh, I found an anagram generator. Here are my favourites of my name:

tenement girl
lettering men
green elm tint
green men tilt
termite glenn
enter melting
let me rent gin

Himitsu Nobara:

I'm Sir Autobahn
Abash - omit - ruin!
I hunt ambrosia
abstain him rou
nu rio samba hit
u + I = hot arab sin?
Ha, Boris, I'm a nut!
Aha, bums in trio!
Ha, I'm a turbo sin!


Gee, sir!

Posted at 9:26 am by turukhtan
Comments (12)  

Sunday, September 18, 2005
Burning former synagogues

Why didn't the IDF tear down the synagogues in the abandoned Gaza settlements? Some say it was for religious reasons - a Jew can't destroy a holy synagogue. Others, including the PA, suspect the Israeli authorities left that task for the PA so that the Palestinians would look bad when people - inevitably, driven by the two factors 'revenge' and 'poverty' - would start scavenging and destroying the former settlements, including the former synagogues.

Foreign minister Silvan Shalom kind of wraps it up. "A Jew does not destroy a synagogue", he said, adding that if the PA cannot restrain Arabs from demolishing or desecrating the buildings, "The world will know with whom we are dealing." (Quotes from unitedjerusalem.org.)

Well, technically, the synagogues are synagogues no more, as all religious symbols have been removed.

Besides, some settlers left not only anti-disengangement graffiti, but also their welcome greetings for the Palestinians on the walls of their former homes and holy places. Lotta Schüllerqvist, in Dagens Nyheter 16/9, is one of the few foreign correspondents who has bothered to write about this graffiti: "Death to Arabs", "I will come back to kill you, motherfucker".

¤ ¤ ¤

Still, I have to say Islamic Jihad militants look rather kick-ass:

(Photo by Emilio Morenatti, AP.)
Black flags have traditional connotations of revolution in Arab cultural history. For instance, the rebellion in 747 that brought down the Umayyad caliphate started with revolutionaries flying black flags in Khorasan.

Posted at 8:49 am by turukhtan
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Saturday, September 17, 2005
Feather canyons everywhere

I couldn't resist changing the brightness & contrast a bit, because they kick even more ass this way.

Posted at 7:33 pm by turukhtan
Comments (1)  

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