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Showdown at the Omena Hotel
'You are the dead.'
DUCKBURG — A typical day in the very atypical Sweden. Those who've taken the time to acquaint themselves with Oscar Swartz' definitive work on the rubble that today is 'Country of Sweden' will be prepared.
As Oscar details in his book, hotel staff in Sweden are now - under pain of four years imprisonment - required to immediately report all 'suspicious activity' to the police.
This 'suspicious activity' is expressly anything related to sex.
Sex per se isn't outlawed in Sweden (yet) but sex where there's also an exchange of capital is.
Well not quite. For it's not illegal for the woman. Only for the man. (Sex with a man and woman is always suspicious.)
This is all the result of a law pushed through the Swedish parliament in 1999 by one Ulrica Messing. (More on her later.)
Calling All Cars!
So the police get a call. From the Omena Hotel. Omena hotels are owned by the Marriott chain. They're cheap and almost perfect for seamy assignations, as most of the paperwork (including getting a key to the hotel room) is handled by SMS.
Big Brother's Finest in Position!
So the police plant themselves outside the hotel room in question to listen. They can detect moans of ecstasy from within. This is strictly illegal in Sweden, but the police wait until the lovely couple have finished their business.
In the meantime, they probably make a few calls, alert their station that they have a suspect on the way, and make sure the prosecutor on duty is ready to stuff the perp's arse in the grinder for the heinous crime.
The hotel room door opens at last - and out steps the prosecutor on duty! But he wasn't really on duty because he was in the room - on office hours to boot - and in the connubial embrace of a woman!
But they're lovely rooms actually. Do have a look.
Pic 1. View through window to a wall opposite. Reds and hygienic parquet floor as women prefer.
Pic 2. Sparsely appointed bathroom (no frills). Archetypally Swedish.
Pic 3. The refreshments shelf. No condoms, broken or otherwise. Plastic cups.
Pic 4. The stairwell police lead you down once you've declared you're the dead.
'We Are the Dead!'
The walls spoke to the prosecutor on duty and his delightful friend. 'You are the dead!' they said.
'We are the dead!' the prosecutor responded obediently, his hands raised high into the air.
'Speak for yourself!' the lady at his side muttered sardonically as she rummaged through her purse for a breath mint.
For in Sweden of today, it's alright to receive money for sex - it's just not alright to give it.
As the police escorted the terrified prosector to the waiting van, the lady of the night went off into the afternoon to her next assignation, without a care in the world, considerably richer for her Omena Hotel experience.
Ulrica Messing is the mastermind behind this magnificent piece of legislation. She's gone on record to admit she doesn't understand how people can even want to have sex without a 'deep meaningful relationship', and that if male biology is different from hers (which she admits it must be) 'then we'll just have to change male biology!'
Time and again Sweden's disastrous law has come up for review, and renowned criminologists and other experts are called in, people who know how stupid it is, but they're given a strict mandate by the government (in turn controlled by the rabid Swedish feminist lobby) that they can suggest anything but not that the law simply disappear.
Ulrica Messing has since left politics, runs a design store in Gothenburg, and is 'living' - evidently out of wedlock - with the Swedish multimillionaire Torsten Jansson.
And if you haven't got the book 'Swedish Sex' yet, get it now.
Heroes Banquet: Swedish Sex
As good as it gets: Vad Ulrica Messing såg hos Torsten