I'm off to pillage a nearby fishing hamlet.

The Itchy and Scratchy Show n.

1. A cartoon show-within-a-show appearing regularly on The Simpsons,
2. The environment underneath my new Icelandic wool sweater

After lunch I walked to the farthest possible location in the city at the northwest tip of the harbor to Farmer’s Market, which I had read to be the best Icelandic wool sweaters around (or at least the best-publicized). I will say this: Despite the scratchies that I hope go away with repeat wear, this thing makes me look like I have burly Viking shoulders.

On the recommendation of the shop owners, I visited Kaffi Hljomilind, an all-organic coffeehouse purported to have the best coffee in town. I’ll take Dunkin’ Donuts coffee over this place’s, but I got a great, hilarious recommendation for something to do: Another local coffeehouse was having a black metal showcase that night. Misplaced anger + basement of alcohol-free coffeehouse + no cover? You bet!

On second thought, *this* guy's about to pillage the aforementioned hamlet.

It turned out pretty well. It was surprisingly quiet for Nordic death metal, the acoustics in the place were really good, and the bands were, well, aggressive. There was no real singing to be heard, just unintelligible screaming, (so not much different from American metal) but the backing music was actually kinda sensitive and melodic. During the first band’s set, *everything* broke: guitar strings, bass straps, sticks, and the microphone, at which point the screamer simply started screaming louder un-amplified. Good times. The last band was Gordon Riots, and I must say, I enjoyed them a lot. Their drummer is exactly the kind of scary-looking motherfucker you want in an Icelandic black metal band, yet he couldn’t have been kinder or more appreciative when I told him he was a “fuckin’ animal.” I think at one point he played double bass 16th notes for two full minutes!

Other highlights from today:

Do we really need any more homophobic epithets? Well, maybe if they're as delightful as "Icelandic sausage-swiper."

I know if I were going to pay to have ANY car shipped to my new home in Iceland, it would be a busted Toyota minivan.

Best street name ever! And the deal of the century, too!

A view of the city from the outskirts of Reykjavik Harbor