I was somewhere around Malmö on the edge of the tundra when the drugs began to take hold. I’m not a drug taker, but drugs must have played some role in the decision to turn this quaint Swedish city into the Beirut of the north. A third of the city population is foreign born, according to government reports. Given the nature of the Swedish government, those numbers are most likely wrong. Malmö now has the reputation for being the rape capital of the world, which is entirely due to immigration.

My journey to Oslo takes me over the bridge from Denmark to Sweden. The Øresund Bridge is a combined rail and motorway that is nearly five miles long. I left at first light, so I got to take in the beauty of the crossing. The signs for Malmö and the impressiveness of the bridge, had me wondering what people a thousand years from now will make of it. They will no doubt have grand theories for why a people capable of conquering nature were unable to ward off a barbarian invasion.

According to official statistics, 20% of the population of Sweden is now foreign born, but that is not the whole story. According to more sober minded estimates, the demographic replacement is advancing quickly. Like America, the white population will be a minority by mid-century or sooner. In that regard, it will no longer be Sweden. Why the rulers of Sweden decided to suicide their people in this way boggles the mind. America, can at least blame slavery. The Swedes can only blame themselves…

The drive up is easy, a bit boring, but the coast line is magnificent, if you get off the highway and hit some of the side roads. Once you pass Malmö, Sweden gets rural in a hurry, as 85% of the population lives in urban areas. That means a very low population density outside of cities. Until you get to Gothenburg, which is a few hours up the cost from Malmö, it is one farm after another, occasionally broken up by stands of birch and pine. You’ll see plenty of Swedish cows, which muu, instead of moo.

I think if I was from another planet, reporting back to my home planet, I’d call this part of earth “the land of the steep roofs.” My first thought is the steep roof is better for a snowy climate, but maybe they just like the look. The roofs are also red, which has no obvious meteorological utility. In fact, red is a very popular color, which suggests something in the ground that was useful for paint, but only comes in red. The color red is also good for soaking up UV rays, so maybe that’s the reason for all the red…

It’s a long trip, so I decide to take a break. One of the fun things about this part of the world is the ubiquity of the traffic circle. In New England they call them rotaries. In other parts of America, they are called roundabouts. Every exit off the main highway results in a traffic circle. Inevitably, there are three options at the minimum. One option takes you to food and fuel. One option puts you back on the road in the direction you were headed and the other options always send you off in the wrong direction…

To enter Oslo from the south, you go through a long series of tunnels, which take you from the countryside to all of a sudden in the middle of the city. This is my first trip to Oslo, so I was expecting it to be like Copenhagen. Coming out of the tunnel, I instead found myself in Newark New Jersey. It really was quite of shock. I’ll grant that the overcast sky probably hurt the curb appeal of the place, but my first impression is it is a city that has seen better days. It has the aging industrial city vibe to it.

Once I check in, I go on a walkabout to see if maybe I was getting the wrong impression of the place. The first thing I notice is the lack of white people. There are whites on the street, but most people I see are non-white. The number of sub-Saharan Africans is quite surprising, given the environment. I’d say there are equal parts east and west Africans, but that’s just a guess. I saw a lot of black women in Muslim headgear pushing strollers, but I also saw a lot of round face black males.

The biggest slice of the diversity pie belongs to the North Africans. Everywhere you look, you see young swarthy males. My guess is Morocco exported a lot of its excess male population to Norway. For some reason, the Nordic countries are a popular destination for Moroccans. Regardless, they all have the look of North Africans, rather than Mesopotamians or Levantines. Five minutes on the street and I see why Mohamed is the most popular baby name every year in Oslo.

I ducked into what looked like a mall. A pretty good way to read the local diversity in any western city is to check out the shopping mall. This was full of Africans, Saharan and sub-Saharan. There were whites, but I’d say they were a slim majority. Oddly, all of the workers in the stores were white, but many were not Norwegian. I heard more than a few British accents. Why someone would leave Britain to work in a Norwegian shopping mall is a mystery, but there is no accounting for taste.

Back on the street, I hiked the city for a few hours. As in the rest of the Nordic countries, the locals dress like goth Eskimos. The temp was hovering around 50 Fahrenheit, so I was in a pullover and jeans. Plenty warm for walking the city. I looked like the guy in the States, who wears shorts in winter. People had on winter coats, scarfs, gloves. I also saw quite a few race mixers. It was always a swarthy male with a white female, but I did see a soy boy with a big fat African. He must have a high social credit score.

Despite what it looks like on the street, Norway is only about nine percent diverse, so it is not facing the same collapse as Sweden. Still, something occurred to me as I was taking in the local color, so to speak. At some point, the white population in these countries will not be able to carry the non-white population. The social welfare system will collapse. At that point, nature takes over. These people are not built for living in the harsh north on their own. A great cull is building toward the end of this century…

Watching some Norwegian television, I saw an ad for Choice Hotels. I’ve never seen it before, but I don’t watch a lot of television. The ad pitches Choice Hotels as the destination for homosexuals in Norway. Like open borders, the fetish for homosexuality is like some were disease that has infected the West. Maybe one day we’ll learn that it is the result of a pathogen that only infects white people…

Part of the deal at the hotel is free breakfast and dinner. The Nordics really like the self-serve buffet. Breakfast was the typical stuff we’d see in America, along with fish and various peasant breads. The butter in this part of the world taste like magic. For dinner, I had brunost, which is a national food of Norway. It looks like brown cheese and tastes like savory caramel. It’s made from whey and goat’s milk, then boiled into a semi-hard cheese-like consistency. The brown color is the worst kind of brown.

This weird food stuff came into being because a milkmaid got the idea to use the leftover whey from cheese making to make something different. Her creation was a hit and helped her region escape economic difficulty. She got married and moved to a new area and created another version, which was also wildly popular. Her cheese-food is credited with helping the local dairy industry escape depression. The milkmaid’s name was Anne Hov and she is national hero…

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