Re-imagined start

Hello again,
it’s been a while.. I’ve decided to give a new restart to this blog with a slight change. There will be less poetry and other creative writing as these days I’ve decided to collect that kind of stuff together for something more than a blog, perhaps a live show with burlesque dancers and lion tamers. Instead I’d like to use this as a platform where I can post things that come to mind and to keep up with more writing, because I haven’t really concentrated on it too much.

I hope those of you who still remember me and followed my blog for the poetry aren’t too upset by this.
If people still are interested in my poetry, please feel free to e-mail me and maybe we can sort something out.

On this blog I will mostly focus on games, game development, music, opinions and other things like that from now on. I’ll still keep my old poetry on it, just as a “back catalog” and as a reminder of things I used to do with this blog.

I’ll be posting some more about stuff I’ve been up to soon.

Thank you and ta-ta,


What is, and what isn’t

I hear the rain pour down from the dark January sky,
but I haven’t felt the rain, I have only heard her echoes through the walls
And I’m writing without connection to the world,
I am lost, but not quite gone

I think of the people who are outside,
some are wet, while others have umbrellas.

I am not wet, because I stay indoors
I don’t own an umbrella, because I plan to stay indoors.

I hear cars roar past my house as they splash the puddles,
The water drenches a passer-by, he curses and pulls out his middle finger,
It’s like poetry, but poetry with intent and not some bleeding heart bullshit,
I’ve heard the song that says, “anger is an energy”.

And I agree with that statement.

Sunday, a blog, and what the hell is JFC

It’s been a good enough while since my last “blog” post, if we don’t count the poetry and what not. I will kick out all that artsy-fartsy stuff and take you on an (b)anal rampage. It’s a Sunday and I hate Sundays because I cannot sleep in on Monday, but I take the best of Sunday and try my best to do nothing at all. Either way, there are a few things I’d like to bring to your attention dearest reader.

If you have been following the poetry I’ve been posting right here on Mikritics then here’s a slight treat that I will say out loud right now. I have decided to try my best to get some of that shit published, in print on paper, between covers! It’s been crazy lately, I have amassed a good amount of poems that I would consider “good enough” to be sent forward. Please stop me if I am delusional.

The only problem I have is that I don’t know if the poems could be better. Of course I will go and do plenty of rigorous editing. I will literally and academically beat the living hell out of my texts. I will break their bones and crush them into dust with a mortar and pestle. I will break them down for breakfast and roast them on a frying pan –deep fry them in animal grease. I will punch them until they say uncle and cry for momma, but you get the point. Editing is violent.

I have to confess that I am a newbie when it comes to this. I have no idea how to take it forward and I find myself browsing through wikihow articles when I’m in the bathroom. I worry about failure due to being plain dumb and I retire to some hole. I assume a fecal position and rot with my bad humor.

I hate myself. But there are things that I hate more, so I think I’m in good terms with myself in the end. Keeps me inspired and jovial. Hoping for the best..

The other thing that I wanted to just point out was a thought I had today. A good while back around February I saw this show called JFC, or Jesus Fucking Christ. It’s a horrible and ugly show depicting the second coming of Jesus. The humor is crude and unfunny, so I guess that’s why I happened to like it.

The best part of the show in my opinion is the way attitudes towards Jesus are portrayed. The televangelist hate him and everyone takes him as a crackpot junkie. The way I’d imagine anyone to react when someone claims he is Jesus reborn. The show has that realism. You should have a look, but watch out, I mean it when I say the humor sucks. It’s not for you if your sense of humor requires even some sophistication. It won’t be for you either if you can’t intake blasphemous entertainment.

Here’s episode 1 of JFC, presented on the youtube channel of Kenny Hotz:

Kenny Hotz presents JFC an independently produced web cartoon.
Jesus is sent back to earth by God to clean things up a little but immediately gets a rude awakening to the modern world and the church! Episode 2

Let us know what you think about it so we can do more or get rid of it.

That’s it, that’s my blog for this Sunday.
I will not even go through this post to check for typos.
I can’t be bothered to edit this into a coherent post. Maybe next time!

Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for more awesome posts..
Much love to all.

Poem: May My Lungs Burst with Joy

This was an automatic poem, the only editing that I did was to make sure that it makes at least a tiny bit of sense.

Smoke filled lies sodomized the innocence of the angels that gave us wings. We’re decrepit, senile as we rush towards the eternal light which hides a prison of sin. I am awake, my brain feels heavy, the walls crack, and the window greets the sun. I feel like loose change, ready to be discarded onto the street, into the sewage. Why? I cannot help but feel scared as my bones and organs feverishly palpitate. And it won’t stop, it won’t stop. I peek between the drapes and I examine the world through my skin. I am sweating, but the more moist I feel the harder it is to breathe. I wish to decry your lies, all of your lies. I wish to denounce your soul, but there’s no use! For I know your heart is filled with holes, holes that can never be filled. You’re an opportunistic infection, a tiny pathogen smaller than a speck of dust. I am immune to you, one day I will be immune to you. Then I shall renounce my name –may it break and shower us with microcosmic sanctity. Ostentatious, we shall metamorphose into a homology of love, and we shall wilt forever.



by Miki Korhonen,
he has swallowed
his sorrow.

Losing touch

“Wake up in the morning n’ look at my cock. It’s all shriveled and cannot get hard no. Tell me, where did I go wrong, must be I’m getting way old.”

I was reminiscing one of my favorite songs today and I thought this parody of it up. Props to those who can recognize the song.

“I go find me my meds, no other thing to do. Take me a walk, but my knees they ain’t no good. Tell me, where did I go wrong, must be osteoporosis the heart of this song.”

With age I have lost my touch with maturity. Sometimes I fear what I’ll find funny later in life. I have started to like some really odd slapstick the peak of all

“My head fumes like a chimney, the kids make noise. Got a hearing aid of dreams, I turn it off in my blues. Tell me, where have I gone wrong? Ain’t nuttin’ going right with me, I’ve been peeing blood too long.”

The rest of the song was about saggy old woman tits that hang around the knees.

A little story about Finland (and me)

Let me tell you guys about Finland and how it’s such a great country. I mean, we can talk all day about the great sights around Helsinki or the magical woods full of trance music and kids on drugs, but since it is a borderline communist country with bureaucracy as the great leader we have civic duties. I happened to be born a potato nosed, stumped ass citizen –or so I have been lead to believe by the mirror and my passport. Also my drinking habits are as awful as they get.

Now here’s the deal, I need to attend these civic duties and I’ve been thinking what the hell will I do with that time. I will be sent to a concentration camp in the middle of nowhere, the place used to be slaughterhouse where all the hippies that didn’t want to shoot with a gun were shot by a gun as the story goes. These days they just send young men during the best years of their life there to waste away their natural beauty (or what they have left of it) and time that could be spent earning or learning.

I have to be honest here, I’m fucking scared that there will be some love and peace type indoctrination, like how to give first aid and how to mediate arguments or something. I think it’s all bull, just like the military service. Yet, duties are duties my friend and since I was kicked out of the army because I was a spokesperson of cannibalism and rampant homosexuality, I have to go to the civil service.

The worst part about it is that I need to find a job. I already have a job and I’ve been searching for a full-time job, but unemployment is high and it’s hard to land work, especially in a country that hates English speakers more than the Swedes or Russians. Truth be told, Finns hate everything that walks on two legs that they can’t shoot or drink. Hence they live in Finland.

So, I need a job that won’t pay me squat. A job that I should do to honor my birth and my ancestors that fell to Soviet bullets. Now I believe just doing that isn’t enough, but I should really come up with something fucking amazing and capitalistic. I need to think like a fat pig, which I’m not, but I will do so to go the distance.

I could start a project:

  • Like writing a poem for each day of service, like a Diary of “Hello this is Slave”.
  • Or a leap into photojournalism with a picture everyday about something pointless that you never wanted to see and now you can never get your time back, so you just click fucking ‘Like’ because of touch√©.
  • Draw a picture everyday and work on getting that portfolio done, because you’re going to need it if you want to enter an art school someday to follow Uncle Adolf’s footsteps in the fight against Social Democrats.
  • Give up.


I don’t know, but maybe one of you will know. I hope to come up with something that I could be more active on this site and this blog. I started this blog to make entries in it and not to let it rot somewhere in the internet. It’s time to step up!

Your’s truly,