Guest Shot: Andrea Lloyd

A Joke is a Very Serious Thing

By: Andrea Lloyd

(Editor’s Note: this article was recently posted by my friend and colleague, Andrea Lloyd, on the Sauder School of Business’s ISIS website.Given our use of the BEST Party’s amazing campaign video on Saturday, we thought it only fitting to expand the digital story with a written one. Andrea, thanks for being a fantastic Guest Correspondent!).

I recently returned from a two-week photography holiday in Iceland. In addition to enjoying its spectacular, raw landscapes – lava fields, waterfalls, and eerie plumes of geothermal steam – I caught a glimpse of the fascinating political and economic landscape of post-crash Iceland. Prior to my departure a CBC radio news story had already piqued my curiosity. It described the sensational political ascent of a newly-formed “joke” party, the “Best Party”, to victory in Reykjavik’s recent city elections on May 29th, 2010. I wondered whether Canada should or could experience a similar shake up?

But first, some context on Iceland’s economic implosion in 2008. According to Reykjavik’s hip English language newspaper, “The Grapevine”, Iceland rode a wave of “Viking Capitalism” – a brand of high risk banking whose instrument was called “IceSave” – that propelled Iceland to the world’s attention as the ‘poster child’ of the 2008 global financial crisis. In October 2008, the then UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown used anti-terrorist legislation to freeze Iceland’s assets, effectively transforming it into a ‘rogue’ state within Europe and triggering, some say, a wider collapse. Iceland’s banks failed, leaving the nation bankrupt and its taxpayers on the hook for a staggering $5 billion to UK and Netherlands depositors.

In a March 2010 referendum, following the “sauce pan revolution” of the previous winter, Iceland’s Foreign Ministry announced that voters overwhelmingly rejected a deal to pay back the money to the United Kingdom and the Netherlands, citing “widespread frustration over the claim on ordinary citizens in Iceland to pay the price for the irresponsible behavior of reckless bankers”. (Of course, why Iceland is “allowed” to do this, when other countries are not, is a deeper question that is beyond the scope of this post).

Enter the Best Party. After the dark days of the collapse, Jon Gnarr, a cheeky comedian and former anarcho-punk musician who toured with Bjork’s band the Sugarcubes, sensed “the need for a breath of fresh air, a new interaction”. In just six months, he gathered together many prominent members of Reykjavik’s cultural and creative community to form the Best Party (in Icelandic – Besti flokkurinn), and won the mayoral race, scoring 34.7% of the vote, securing 6 of 15 seats of the city council with 83% of registered voter turn-out.

The Best Party’s surprise victory was aided in large part by its unorthodox campaign video that featured Best Party members singing the “best manifesto” to Tina Turner’s “Simply the Best”. (To understand more about what the Best Party represents, this Youtube video is a must see). Jon Gnarr is now the fourth mayor in four years in Iceland’s energetic capital, of which the greater Reykjavik area is home to nearly two-thirds of Iceland’s population.

The upstart “Besties” threw Iceland’s established parties and political scientists in a tizzy. As Gunnar Helgi Kristinsson, a political science professor at the University of Iceland, said:  “People know Jon Gnarr is a good comedian, but they don’t know anything about his politics. And even as a comedian, you never know if he’s serious or if he’s joking.” Accordingly, new Mayor Jon Gnarr reassured his constituents: “No one has to be afraid of the Best Party,” he said, “because it is the best party. If it wasn’t, it would be called the Worst Party or the Bad Party. We would never work with a party like that.”

The story of the Best Party has captured my imagination.  Through chats over coffee and “Viking” lager with various Reykjavik locals, my conclusion (definitely not verified by stringent research methods) is that this “protest” vote is something more than a cynical throw-away vote, as some political scientists have described it; rather, it represents an optimistic affirmation of the future. As my Icelandic friend Erla Petursdottir, a Reykjavik lawyer, observed, the Best Party’s surprise victory served to “remind people what is important”.

In Canada, political pundits and pollsters have recently decried the moribund participation in federal (and other) elections, and rising cynicism towards electoral politics. Maybe we could use a breath of Iceland’s fresh air here? I like John Gnarr’s assessment: “Just because something is funny doesn’t mean it isn’t serious”.

Your Digital Fill – Ironic Icelandic Democracy

Dear Kurt Heinrich,

I know that you’re not Johnisms biggest fan. Fair enough. As someone not named John, you will be irrelevant and, probably, disappeared when the revolution comes. Speaking of “the revolution,” Johnism – actually, Jonism – just won a pretty hilarious victory on the Icelandic front (fun fact: the Icelandic front is one of the most important fronts in the Johnism revolution).

Kurt, even you must appreciate the politicking that must have had to happen in order for this fantastically grassroots story to unfold. So that you can appreciate democracy inaction, here’s a video for your review:



And, well, this guy is the new Mayor of Reykjavik, where two-thirds of Icelandic people live. Amazing. Go Jo(h)nism!

Have a good one, Kurt. And, hey, people named John will always be looking for helpful supporters a few years (or weeks) from now.

Your pal always (or until the revolution),

- John…ism

Jónsi

(I’ve written my concert review of  Jónsi in the form of a letter to an old university friend, to try and make it as personal as possible. That’s because I find music reviews often come off as impersonal. Once upon a time, I was a theatre major. )

Dear Alistair

I miss you. I went to a concert last night and it made me think of you.

Jónsi is the lead singer from Sigur Ros (I’m sure you know this.) He’s traveling the world, performing songs from his new album, “Go” – a side project while his Sigur Ros band mates have babies.

The stage was designed by Fifty Nine Productions, a company that usually designs sets for the Metropolitan Opera Company and the English National Opera. The stage was set with a series of backdrops built for projections. Jónsi’s performance started quietly and slowly built into what became an obvious but elegant theme, to which I won’t reveal in the hopes that you go see the show yourself. Animation was projected  on stage throughout the show and accompanied the rise and fall of the music and Jónsi’s unmistakeable falsetto voice.

I was sometimes irritated by the crowd’s applause. Like a play or any worthwhile story, it could have done without interruptions. “Jónsi” or  Jón Thor Birgisson’s falsetto vocals soared in perfect pitch. The costumes were bold. And his band mates used a number of unusual instruments and tools to fill out his sound. But most of all, Al – Jónsi reminded me of you. The moment he stepped out on stage, you knew you were about to witness something very personal and close to his heart. And that’s exactly what I feel when I watch your work.

I thought the best moment of the whole evening came at the end, when Jónsi and his band of talented and beautiful young men, returned to the stage before a standing ovation, bowed, and spent a good moment looking out at us, as if they couldn’t believe we were there to watch them perform. They gave us genuine smiles and expressions of surprise.

I think you should go see, Jónsi . It’s likely he won’t tour with this band and set again. And I want to know what you think. I’ve included a video – a snippet from his song “Grow Tall.” A friend told me he wrote the song the day after a New Year’s party. He wanted to try and capture the feeling of “the next morning”, after a night of celebrating with his friends.

Lots of love,

Theo

Baldur Sveinbjörnsson

KerryShooter

1.Who are you?

Baldur Sveinbjörnsson. I am the only African-Icelandic player on the Icelandic Olympic team for the Vancouver 2010 Games. My sport is biathlon. I achieved a personal best by finishing in last place in the men’s 20 kilometer biathlon on Thursday, February 18. My mother thinks I am a star. My father – rest his soul – would have been proud, I hope. Now, it is time to party! I’m also really, really tall. (Editor’s Note: check out the size of the biathlon rifle next to Baldur…it’s pretty darn small – let’s just say it was easy to spot him in the International Press Centre, where the Gumboot editorial staff spent a lot of time during the Olympics.)

2. What do you do for fun?

I polish my rifle. Shoot rabbits with my non-biathlon rifle (it is illegal to shoot anything but targets with your rifle, but that doesn’t stop the Norwegians from practicing on muskrats). I really like writing haikus about my father’s homeland, Tanzania. One day, I hope to visit Tanzania and start a biathlon program in Dar es Salaam.

3. What is your favourite community and why?

The women’s biathlon community. In this community, I am a love god. Some call me a combination of Thor, Odin and Loki – and I can dance like Justin Timberlake. The biathlon community has taken me in as their own, even if I am a foot taller than everyone here.

4. What is your superpower?

My willingness to break all the rules – even my own – to do the right thing.

5. How do you use it to build community?

The world is not designed for tall people. My willingness and skill at breaking all the rules makes me well suited to be a height-centred ambassador to the short community. I like to think that I bring a new, better, “taller” perspective to your world. Exit signs shouldn’t be seven feet off the ground, you know – some people hit their head on them.

My three favourite things about Baldur are…

1. He’s Tall. When the Daily Gumboot editors were investigating the stories of the games in the International Media Centre (sorry, VANOC, for not actuallyIceland_flag writing anything about the Olympics yet…), Baldur was easy to find because, well, he is a seven-foot-tall biathlon athlete – biathlete? Since meeting Baldur, he has helped us reach no fewer than six things that were up high and out of our reach. He can also see over the fence that surrounds the Olympic flame.

2. Baldur is a Love God. We don’t want to say that Baldur has a harem of attractive women always following him, but he doesn’t not have a crowd of attractive women always following him. Being the generous fellow that he is – and being done all of his events – Baldur was good enough to take Kurt and John on a few sojourns through the intense and passionate gamut that is the Athletes’ Village in False Creek. That’s really all that we can say about this.

3. Kindness and Community Become Him. The Daily Gumboot’s editors and correspondents have been searching for athletes to interview since the games began – after speaking (or trying to speak to) over 50 competitors, we could only wrangle an interview with two Russian aerialists. Without a translator, it was a pretty difficult conversation, but Kurt and John might be married to them now (we may or may not have been representing ourselves as “editors” of the New York Times). Baldur, without his fancy “badge” or an Icelandic track suit, was more than happy to talk to us. We took him at face value and stand by the above facts that make up his inspiring story. Because that’s how you build community.

As told by John and Kurt…