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The Reykjavík Grapevine

Come to me all ye who are weary and burdened and seek comfort within my ample bosom.  

Seeking advice about the future? Problems with lovers?  Just have something you need to get off your chest? Call Charlie! 

Martin asks: When do I fall asleep? 

When the night is strange and black stars rise, when the darkened moons circle through the sun-warped skies, if you yearn for that dreamlike sleep, Martin, all you need do is swallow a melatonin. Strange still is lost Carcosa, stranger still are those that sleep, strangest still is you. 

Big kiss, Martin, sweet dreams. 

Randy asks: How can people in Iceland not like Björk?! 

Imagine Randy, you go anywhere in the world, to the most remote location your mind can conjure, away from all that you have ever known, and on your journey, you come across another traveller who learns you are from Iceland. Without fail, they will turn to you and ask: “Oh! Iceland huh? So, have you met Björk?” The insult! Everywhere I go, I hear her name and only hers. I mean, of course I’ve met her, but that’s beside the point!  

Jens asks: Hvem er Islands fjender? (Who are Iceland’s enemies? Jens proceeded to ask four more wordy questions.) 

Jens, at first, I considered your questions honest ones. I don’t speak much Icelandic, and so I asked my local friends to translate your extensive and detailed questions. I was shocked and appalled to learn that your language of choice was Danish. Now, though I personally have no qualms with the Danes, it appears the call is coming from inside the house. Jens, if you ask an Icelander who their greatest enemy is, it’s Denmark. It doesn’t matter how settled those differences are. As long as the kids have to learn Danish at school, that hatred will run deep. You colonial pieces of shit get out of here. Who are Iceland’s enemies, my ass. 

Eli asks: Why don’t they teach about left and right turning indicators at driving schools? 

If you’re like me and have been in Icelandic traffic for around 30 to 40 seconds, you know that left/right turning indicators are the least of your worries. Eli, people were never meant to travel at speeds faster than horseback, and here we are hurtling around in death machines, and nobody knows how they work. Transmission? Drivetrain? Tail light? Words conjured up by madmen. 

Chuck says: So will Charlie be back answering questions next time? I can only assume he was put in time out because he seemed a bit cranky in his last two question columns. But seriously, I hope he is doing well and just was off basking on a warm sunny beach somewhere when you printed your most recent issue. You know, rather than being thrown headfirst into a snowbank by the editor. 

Chuck, it’s lovely to hear from you, and it warms my cold, cold heart to know that at least someone has noticed my absence. I’ll be frank with you, Chuck. Your ol’ boy Charlie has been going through it. In the past month alone, I’ve lost a duel, passed a kidney stone, got arrested by the coast guard, and was implicated in two government scandals. But don’t you worry, Chuck, they can’t keep Charlie down. They won’t be able to find enough evidence to make the charges stick. 

Like a phoenix, I shall rise from the ashes. If you too wish to join me, check out our Grapevine Facebook and Instagram pages and watch the skies for our Q&A post! 

Bless Bless 

Love Charlie