The first, non-commercial version of A One Hundred Year Old Baby was written on the occasion of Finland’s centennial, in 2017. Today, with three more years having gone by, there is every reason to launch it in a serious way. Because optimism pours itself our way as if it were the Rio fucking Grande! For the first time since World War II, this planeth’s by far dullest birthday party – the so-called Independence Day Reception in the Helsinki presidential palace – has been cancelled. Glory be to Corona! Let us hope that the pandemic may last until every living memory of Sauli Niinistö, Harri Harkimo and the other crooks in this book will have been erased from our minds.
We took a small stroll through the splendid landscape around the place, before she put some mascara and was ready to walk down the rocky path again at the end of which her cab was waiting.
'I will use your trick with the driver', she said. 'I will not have enough money to pay him, so he will never guess that I am the spouse of the president of Finland'. 'That's the way to disappear, my little girl', I said, 'and you know that you can always disappear to me'.
I stood waiting in my yard until I heard the motor of a car start. ‘Hail Finland!‘, I shouted over the hills and down into the valley she was now driving through. 'I have offered to you what I had to offer. The rest is up to you. Free Jenni, by getting rid of the Sauli's and the Harkimo's. It will make you feel better!'
Then I went inside and locked the door behind me. ×