If you walked into the Henry Miller Library and, say, pulled “Sometimes a Great Notion” off the shelf, and opened to a random page, and started reading, what would happen?

Here’s what would happen. You’d say, Hmmm, this is pretty interesting stuff. Brilliantly written. Compelling. But slightly disjointed.

And that’s because – duh - you opened the book to a random page! You need to step back and get the whole picture. All things are contextual; nothing exists in a vacuum.

Which is how we approach Hippie Sven’s body of work.

I mean, you laughed in pity at him in the now-iconic short where he drools over fellow Swede-rockers Dungen.

You admired his sincere passion in reveling in the Library’s new stage (which also led to a tense altercation with Executive Director Magnus Toren.)

And you felt a queasy mixture of alarm yet strange comfort as Sven discovered the feral power of poetry. [After all, it's no coincidence the term Stockholm Syndrome refers to a city based in - you guessed it - Sweden.]

But at the end of the day, your collective emotions regarding Sven and his “art” – empathy, terror, disquiet – are mere pinpricks on a larger, far more complex Jungian body of work; cosmetically meaningless fragments flitting in the wind, devoid of deeper meaning unless contextualized across a broader, more multi-layered psychological plane.

You need the full story.

Dudes, you need to check out our YouTube page, which contains, like, over a dozen powerful Hippie Sven (and other, HML-related) videos.

Ultimately, if Hippie Sven’s “art” is on trial, then this is his defense. The dude contains multitudes. And in when taken in totality, a far more illuminating picture emerges, like some infrared MC Escher nightmare-scape where the soundtrack is “Wish You Were Here” performed by a dosed mariachi band.

That said, if any one has any suggestions to help Sven get his shit together, please post them here. We’ll pass’em along.