What would you do if the most intimate details of your life were posted on the internet?
Jukka-Pekka Puro’s life, as recounted in Wired magazine, was a nightmare. In 2017, when his wife divorced the University of Turko lecturer, he slipped into depression. When his doctors told him that he had inoperable cancer and had only a few years to live, he contemplated suicide.
"Don't tell my wife," a trump clone told bystanders back in July 2018.
“Could you imagine if I lose? I’m not going to feel so good. Maybe I’ll have to leave the country, I don’t know.”
Donald Trump, at an October 16th rally
“WELL, it actually happened—despite doing everything in my power to finagle my way back to the White House, Sleepy Joe won the election. What were the voters thinking!
Since the U.S. doesn’t want me, I don’t want the U.S. That’s why I’ve picked up my marbles and moved to Finland.
Why Finland? You might be wondering.
MIKA SALMINEN, the director of health security at the Finnish Institute for Health and Welfare (THL) and Kirsi Varhila, the permanent secretary at the Ministry of Social Affairs and Health had both publicly questioned the usefulness of face masks.
What politician dares to explain the true rationale for Finland’s feckless COVID policy?
“Now is the time to pull up your socks”—this was Prime Minister Sanni Marin’s recent counsel to the nation, as Finland confronts the second, far more deadly, wave of the COVID pandemic. Maybe this phrase loses something in translation, but it hardly conveys a sense of crisis.
A man walks past a mural depicting US President Donald Trump, painted on a wall in Sydney on November 9, 2020. LEHTIKUVA / AFP
How do you spell “failed state”?
THE “I-can-breathe-again” good news: the protracted agony of counting absentee ballots has ended and, barring a lightning strike, Joe Biden will be the next president of the United States. Donald John Trump’s four-year reign of error—all too often his reign of terror—has ended.
Screenshot of video depicting the arrest of David Gill
Returning home from a basketball tournament in Tampere last August, David Gill and his fifteen-year-old son Max boarded a train. Although they did not realise it, they didn’t have valid tickets, and this innocent mistake turned into a nightmare.
As soon as they boarded the train, they were accosted by railway inspectors, manhandled, kicked off the train and arrested.
David Kirp is a professor of public policy at the University of California-Berkeley and a regular contributor to the Helsinki Times.
Imagine the popular reaction if Sanaa Marin delivered this speech.
What is the current situation regarding coronavirus? What does the future look like? And what is the government’s strategy?
You deserve clear answers to these questions. And you deserve to understand why the recent spread of COVID demands that we take action.
Nightclub Fontana in Vaasa is now closed until further notice and all gatherings of over 50 people are prohibited in the city.
Vaasa, which bills itself as the “happiest city in the world,” becomes a coronavirus epicenter.
The lively city of Vaasa, pop. 66,960, boasts on its website that it is the happiest city in the happiest country in the world. To claim bragging rights, it has recruited a happiness researcher who is distributing happiness tips and organizing happiness lectures.
Supporters of US President Donald Trump hold a rally in the New York City borough of Staten Island, on October 3, 2020. LEHTIKUVA / AFP
Finnish politics is boring.
A right-of-center coalition takes office, safety net programs are slimmed, the belt tightened for schools and universities, taxes raised and the deficit wiped out. A left-of-center coalition wins the next election, budget cuts are undone, new initiatives introduced and a modest deficit results.
Whether center-left or center-right, the winning coalition adopts an agenda that ever so gently rocks the boat.
“It’s too much,” my friend Beth told me, when we talked not long ago. “First corona and now the fires. Many of us were barely holding on before. We don’t know how to deal with this as well.”
Beth lives in Northern California, where I have spent much of my adult life. Niko, my Finnish husband, and I, the trailing spouse, have been in Helsinki since early April. This separation from America is working a profound change in how I understand my native country, on how I see life in California.
I was meandering along the rocky outcropping above the Temppeliaukio Church when I came across a woman walking her cat on a leash. Felines are notoriously unruly creatures, and when I asked about her training regimen, she figured out that I was a fellow cat lover, and launched into a long explanation.
A barista at Story, a Market Hall restaurant that I frequent (it has the best breakfast deal in the city), has an arm’s-worth of intricate tattoos. I inquired about what they represented, and she responded with a richly detailed description.
Helsinki Region Transport (HSL) employees giving away free masks to passengers at the Central Station on 26. August. 2020
Last weekend, I went to Forum to buy headphones. The mall was crowded—the very situation in which officialdom has tepidly suggested that people wear masks—and I counted the number of people who were wearing them. Out of fifty shoppers, there were precisely three.
I have started to keep a tally on my tram trips as well. When I’m in a car with twenty passengers, perhaps five will be wearing a mask.
Although these numbers are better than a couple of weeks ago, they’re not nearly big enough. For masks to be effective, everyone must wear them, but as things stand, mask-wearers are protecting others, while most people aren’t reciprocating.
