Oh, Thank Heaven For ... September 11?

In the ten year anniversary folder for De Utvalgte the following is written about Oh, Thank Heaven For ... September 11?:

"I am in Copenhagen. My phone rings. It is Niels. He talks incoherently about a disaster, tells me to watch TV. I go down to the closest pub. It is filled with smoke. Again and again I see the planes hit, and I hear my own voice. But I can't remember what I say. At the neighbouring table there are three Greenlanders, two men and a woman, pissed drunk. The planes hit, and it hits them. I can see that they are nourished. Their own war is nourished. A war they have been in for a long time. They laugh, they ramble, they drink. It hits. 'WOW, Damn for Satan, man, cheers!'

I walk on. From pub to pub. From TV to TV. Only the same images. Where are you, Bush? Why aren't you coming, what are you doing? I know what you are thinking. It had to come, now it's your turn, it's our turn. This is our chance. Further, further. I can't sleep. I have walked for two days now. Two days and two nights. Autumn sale in the shops. Now you must come. I only want to lie down at the sidewalk and poop. I kneel. Dear God. Our Father in Heaven. Let him come. Don't keep him any longer. And then you come. Through the window of the TV shop. On 40 screens at the same time. George W. Bush.

You are walking alone through the park towards The White House, the cameras follow you, and I see you, George. You look like your father, I see you, I see that you are a little boy. A little boy, Bush junior, in a middle aged man's body. Now it is your turn, it's our turn. We have waited for this. It isn't the first time God punishes. Jesus was betrayed by his father, too. Feel the pain, junior, you lie across your father's lap, and pull the pants down. Love and fear, love and fear. And when he is done he picks you up and cries with you. Dad hit, and Satan is in the ass. Sorry, Father, sorry, God.

The house gets closer, father's house, my house. The cameras follow me through the trees. I see myself from the outside. I see how I walk, move my feet, move my upper body. I am filled, I radiate, I am no longer uneasy, no longer insatiable. Panic has become energy, what a kick, what a gift, I am alive. Dear God, I will never drink again. Look at me, father, look, I have inherited your pride. You approach the microphones. I know what you're thinking, I know what you're about to say. Revenge is on."

The quote is from Torbjørn Davidsen in the role of Torbjørn Davidsen.

Source:

The ten year anniversary folder for De Utvalgte