Saturday, December 27, 2008

"That thing just #$@! on me ... upside down" - Pi

Camps Bay at 8am in the morning and Cape Town is fast asleep. Those that are on the beach are treated to those chilled dolphins/porpoises just cruising up and down the bay. The wind has been pumping though so the water is cold. Still, the dolphins are close in and I expect to see people swimming out to them. Not a soul. The water must be really cold I imagine.
I am down on the beach to play some Sat morning touch rugby. We play hard for an hour and a half or so and then no matter how cold the water, I always just go for a quick dip. The game was good this morning and even though it is only 10am now, it is already hot. As I am heading to the waters edge I notice there are still no people in the water. I get closer and to my surprise it is not as cold as I anticipated. Now I notice the dolphins are still in the bay, moving from South to North. Normally they move deceptively fast and although I knew they were still moving quicker than it appears from the shore, I could still intercept them if they stuck to the course they were on I waded in the the water and swam out to sea. I was not far from shore, just 40m or so and I judged it well. Swimming with my head up every now and again, within about a minute I was right in amongst them. A friendly pod of about 8. They slowed up to see what the strange visitor was all about. Stopping the course they were on for a bit ... they came to play!
I was just an arms length away from the smooth shiny skins that were moving slowly just to my left. I saw a few shadows below me so I ducked under water. The playful little guys were swimming all around and under me. Swimming right at me and then teasingly darting away with fantastic speed and impressive grace. They stayed a few more seconds and then reverted on there slow cruise towards the rocks at the Glen. I was able to swim along with them for a short while. When they went out a little too far and fast I swam back in to shore. The many onlookers and excited dolphin admirers (never met someone who is not one) that were on the beach looked at me strangely as came stomping out of the fresh water, shivering like a dog to get the cold water off my skin. I was just as surprised that none of them had come to join me.

post script: I wonder how many people on the beach that day had dolphin tattoo's on their ankles, lower backs or belly buttons, but did not take the opportunity to swim out to the friendly beauties. About half of them I reckon! Ha ha.

post post script: The quote comes from another beautiful dolphin swim in Plett - about 15 years ago. I was swimming at lookout with some dolphins that were body surfing with us in some fun waves just off The Deck. I am sure there were a good few Hammerhead Sharks around as well. If you are swimming in Plett then there generally are. Well the dolphins were everywhere and it was another awesome experience ...until one swam under me and pooped. The first sign was a whole lot of bubbles - like a naughty boy letting one rip in the bath with his little sister. The bubbles were followed by ... well what farts are generally followed by - shit. Hilarious!

post post post script: Fart is normally followed by shit ...unless you were unfortunate enough to attend SACS where upon you will find you are full of fart, but no shit.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

"Geeez I love good quality Tequila" - Pi

This could work against me. Okay lets not joke it probably going to give me a good hiding. You see I was chatting about Tequila the other day with siblings. I happened to mention that I totally see the merits of good Tequila ... especially when compared to crap Tequila.

Well, as a Christmas gift, the youngest- 'little' Mike - decided to give me the opportunity to test out my brash statement made while safely behind at least a couple of closed doors, on the other side of a good few busy roads and generally not within arms reach of a good bottle of Tequila.
That is no longer the case as a world class bottle of the buzzingly tantalising Nemesis of so many sits patiently on my desk; the result of me ending up on the receiving end of a generous Christmas gift from Mike to me. I decided to place it in a bowl of some incredibly addictive red liquorice (all the way from Oz. Apparently they have better liquorice farms), now when ever I grab for it I have the option of the liquorice instead of Mexico's favourite export. The red stuff in disappearing fast though. I'll let you know how it goes. The last time I delved ... I ended up in boxing boots and an American stars and stripes speedo. Spicy.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

"Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse" - Henry Livingstone

The most incredible night of my year has consistently been that of Christmas Eve. The reason being I think a combination of the mysterious and exciting energy that abounds at that time; and the simple, honest and powerful way the experience of Christmas was introduced to my elder brother Greg and I in the late 70's and early 80's -mainly through the special book 'The Night Before Christmas'

To this day I feel a tickle and a laugh in my belly as the visions of sugar plums dance in my head. The memories are so strong from the book my parents used to read from, that I think they are not in fact memories at all, but rather experiences as I really do live them over all over again. No videos of Whoopi Golderg as Father Christmas or Jim Carey as the Grinch. No commercial Juggernaut steam rolling its way into your path as rudely as it can.

Just a book with such incredibly lively pictures to frame the wondrous words of the 19th century poem about Christmas. My Mom or Dad would bring it out only once a year and read it with careful pronunciation. I remember their eyes even having more a sparkle as the magic of the words and the book did their work. Of course at that age even though I would try and stay awake to get a glimpse of Father Christmas, it would be in vain as my eyes closed with the excitement still buzzing about the night. When I did wake up it was early and dark. The tell tale bulges of presents in my pillow case was nearly too much to bear.

Now I am a much bigger lad and able to stay up till all hours of the morning. Perhaps tonight I will get a glimpse of the jolly old St Nick.

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

post script: The Richness of the red colours were a big part of what made the image of Father Christmas stand out. When I realised it was much to do with the Coke brand, it lost its power though ...the intenseness of the image of St Nicholas did not. Look how awesome the Rich green (my favourite colour for most things) sits just as comfortably.

Friday, December 19, 2008

"Mooo moo mooo moo moo moooo" - Gary Larson

I noted yesterday that there is now a new string of MAD COW DISEASE found in a dude from the UK that has been infected and will probably die from the disease.
It gets pretty complicated when looking at the causes and genetic probability of actually contracting the disease (as a human) that caused such a stir in the last 10 or 15 years. What is interesting to me is that purely by the name we have decided to give the disease, most people are of the opinion that its those damn crazy cows that are to blame.
As I mentioned its technical stuff when looking into the origins, characteristics and risk factors of the virus. Its crazy to read all the "we are not sure" and "its not quite known for certain" and "exactly what causes the such and such has not been medically ...". Then in the same articles they go on to mention how its been decided that feeding the cows feed, that has parts of their own species, as well as chickens and pigs has been stopped as this has been noted to cause a protein to turn bla bla bla ....
So basically by feeding cows huge amounts of proteins (uuummm I don't think you will find cows having a chomp at anything but grass, grass and more grass) and hitting them with everything we can imagine to make them produce more milk and grow faster and bigger, we have eventually started killing ourselves off when we too eat that cow that's eaten a cow. Those dodgy proteins that have gone through a totally unnatural change then pop into our systems and if we are carrying another dodgy lazy virus (contracted apparently from years before also from eating cows) then it sets off the horrid consequences in our good selves, giving us reason to turn around and point at the cow as the culprit as we fade away into dementia due to a painful attack on the nervous system, followed by death.

Of course when the perception is that the meat we eat comes from behind those long plastic strips that take the place of a door at the butchers and the extent of out attention is limited to the little attention grabbing price alert on whats on special, don't expect these types of diseases to go away anytime soon. In fact even MAD COW DISEASE has only killed a few people relative to the amount of publicity it has received. It is however another perfect warning to stop screwing around with the structure of living structures to try and make them serve us better. Another perfect warning for us to ignore as we are so good at doing.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

stolen ...presumed sold

Today is the first time I post without a quote. Its also the first time I am not posting from my laptop. That's because its not my laptop any longer. It is some other punks who will pay dearly for being a part of the sordid business of stealing other peoples stuff.
My laptop was taken from my room which is inside my house. Not a problem for dem thieves. Quick as a flash they must have been in and out. I did have a quote that related to this blog, but it was on the laptop so it too was stolen. Those poor bastards don't realise how much energy of mine was being stored in that laptop in the form of all the writings and all sorts that I had created over a few years. Shortly I shall let it (that stored energy waiting patiently in the form of word docs, jpg's and the odd Excel spreadsheet) loose to make sure it does as much destruction as possible to those that are now in possession of the laptop. I can only hope the vokkers that are involved are terminally afflicted when I do ... for I will strike down upon them with great vengeance and furious anger ...well at least I hope they trip and stub their toes stumble into the street and get hit by a Taxi, or choke on the tik that they probably swapped the merchandise for, stumble into the street and get hit by a Taxi.
The thing about my ex laptop though is that is has a tell tail sign that is quite unique. You see I bent one of the tiny little blades of the fan a few months back. So now when ever the fan is activated, it sounds like a big generator is starting up as the blades smash against the 'protective' encasement. So if you here a Diesel laptop while out doing your thing, let me know and I will deliver some pain in the caretakers direction.

post script: If you see a baddy stumbling in the streets from a stubbed toe or high on tik ... aim and accelerate.

Friday, December 12, 2008

"If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we ...

"If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence." - George Eliot

Can you sit quietly for any length of time? Can you let your senses help you feel what is happening outside of your body without consciously using them? We make use of so little of the potential that we actually have as humans. If you let yourself experience what is happening outside of the limited amount of sensory stimuli that you do receive you begin to notice the potential of what there actually is to know and experience on this planet. By sitting and stopping the active use of your eyes, ears, nose and muscles for a time and by getting effective at doing this, those tools of your physical body seem to reset themselves to a degree and now when you use them those many stimulus come alive to you in an incredibly more powerful way, so powerful that if we were able to tap into all that was going on, it would obliterate us. All is there to be experienced and silence can show us the way, however most are missing out by settling for the lazy manner in which we accept the strange concept we have created for ourselves as the-way-to-live.

Silence can help bring us back to realise how we should be. How we need to be. It is always there yet we constantly turn our backs on the benefits of silence. So far we have strayed from the beauty of it, that it now makes many feel uncomfortable. When it comes to help and comfort or teach us we shut it out automatically by finding a distraction from outside ourselves or even thinking a distracting thought. How strange the things we do the make sure we do not sink softly into the place where we get to meet and know ourselves. How bizarre the effort we put into keeping this vital and glorious opportunity, that is always there, at bay. How we strive to keep away silence.

Be careful though, don't try too hard. Silence will always be patiently watching you and ready to enter as soon as you stop, but you so seldom do. So weary are you and estranged from its use that it is ingrained in the subconscious to make sure you are always doing something to keep silence out, to make sure you only need deal with what is in front of you and not be reintroduced to what is real. You cannot win that battle though. Eventually your energy will run out and silence will enter as fresh as it is right now. You will wonder why you never embraced it before and marvel at your ignorance.

Monday, December 8, 2008

"It is not clear that intelligence has any long-term survival value." Stephen Hawking

This famous tub of oil sits off the coast of Cape Town each year around this time. A good place to come for Christmas after all. Perhaps he has a buddy in JoBurg that told him: "Listen my China, I know its full of Capetonians, but there is lekker graze, the beaches are packed with sexy cherries and I didn't buy that schweet sunbed for nothing hey!"

Well who ever tipped this punk off, he sneaks in unannouched and pretends to sleep all day. Then as it gets darkish the gunk starts to flow. That's right, from that big black chimney on the back of the friggit. Right through the night he dumps heavy fumes into the skies. The port authority have no clue what is being referred to when attempting to get the smog machine curtailed and it actually brings me to the point of this blog (normally I don't really have a point I know and whose to say this is in anyway, but just have a little read, its better than stuffing another Tempo into your head) which is Carbon emissions and the fact that you can trade them.

Who TF came up with and Who TF passed the ridiculous idea and now reality, that Carbon emissions were something that could be bought and sold as if they were a sack of rice or a lump of gold. I mean this is something that is only bad in every way and needs to be rectified.
So the restrictions are placed on business and corporations where by they are only allowed so much volume of carbon emissions - GOOD ... and then they get punished harshly if they do not comply - EXCELLENT. So that they will stop damaging the environment to the detriment of the whole planet that will collapse if they were to carry on ... makes sense to make them hold up a bit right? Of course it does. Then some fat cat decides that those that are not actually spewing out the amount that is considered dangerous, are able to sell the amount that is left over from what they have not used?!
Nooooooooo ....that's is not how it works fools.
When a guy comes into hospital with three stab wounds and the police are holding the purp in custody. The Doctor does not make a call to the police department to say:

"Look Copper I know you have Franky Four Fingers in jail for the crime. This vic is not going to die though, so send Frankie around with his weapon and I will give him a few more stabs. Don't worry I will make sure the guy does not die, but Frankie is already going in for attempted murder so lets just make sure he gets AS CLOSE TO MURDERING THE GUY as he can. Just be sure to tell Frankie he will owe us $500 for each slashing so make sure he has some loot ready to pay for his extra misdeeds"

We are here to serve our environment and not the other way around. It is a mistake we have made over the years of our existence and its very simple. If we do not realise this and act upon it, we will perish. There are no deals here ... no buying our way out of it by listing another stock on an exchange to trade with. This is real and does not fall snugly into any of the systems that we are trying to hang onto as they come crumbling down around us.
Its not difficult to get involved, buy a bike, take a walk and just do what feels right not what always what looks better on your balance sheet in your counting house.

Friday, December 5, 2008

"For the female of the species is more deadly than the male." - Rudyard Kipling

While reading Kipling I was surprised to come across the fact that the very man himself wrote the line: the female of the species is more deadly than the male. I've heard it many times and even enjoyed the song while studying at Stellenbosch.
I never knew it was from the a poem called 'The Female of the Species'. I looked it up and read the poem. You can too (below). Interesting I thought and remember it was written by a man in the early 1900's.

It's so different how people view the difference in genders today. In fact the word seems to be loosing its meaning with the lines of male and female becoming so incredibly blurred and perverted. This is one of the sure signs for me in the general downfall of man. Controversial! Yea well I am not asking for your opinion, just giving you some of my feelings on the subject of gender. I reckon most of those who have moved away from their gender at birth have done so out of laziness and as a need to change something in a world that does not make sense to them. Did you notice, through your rage and homophobic accusations you are sending my way, the way I said MOST? Thereby leaving myself covered in that I am not dissing a group of people in totality, rather a condition that I do not think is right nor necessary, but rather too much effort is put into it to create something for the wrong reasons - even if this is done subconsciously.

Well Kipling has some pretty curious insights to how things were in his head at the time.

The Female of the Species

When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail,
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When Nag, the wayside cobra, hears the careless foot of man,
He will sometimes wriggle sideways and avoid it if he can,
But his mate makes no such motion where she camps beside the trail -
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

When the early Jesuit fathers preached to Hurons and Choctaws,
They prayed to be delivered from the vengeance of the squaws -
'Twas the women, not the warriors, turned those stark enthusiasts pale -
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say,
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away;
But when hunter meets with husband, each confirms the others tale -
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.

Man, a bear in most relations, worm and savage otherwise,
Man propounds negotiations, Man accepts the compromise;
Very rarely will he squarely push the logic of a fact
To its ultimate conclusion in unmitigated act.

Fear, or foolishness, impels him, ere he lay the wicked low,
To concede some form of trial even to his fiercest foe.
Mirth obscene diverts his anger; Doubt and Pity oft perplex
Him in dealing with an issue - to the scandal of the Sex!

But the Woman that God gave him, every fibre of her frame
Proves her launched for one sole issue, armed and engined for the same,
And to serve that single issue, lest the generations fail,
The female of the species must be deadlier than the male.

She who faces Death by torture for each life beneath her breast
May not deal in doubt or pity - must not swerve for fact or jest.
These be purely male diversions - not in these her honor dwells -
She, the Other Law we live by, is that Law and nothing else!

She can bring no more to living than the powers that make her great
As the Mother of the Infant and the Mistress of the Mate;
And when Babe and Man are lacking and she strides unclaimed to claim
Her right as femme (and baron), her equipment is the same.

She is wedded to convictions - in default of grosser ties;
Her contentions are her children, Heaven help him, who denies!
He will meet no cool discussion, but the instant, white-hot wild
Wakened female of the species warring as for spouse and child.

Unprovoked and awful charges - even so the she-bear fights;
Speech that drips, corrodes and poisons - even so the cobra bites;
Scientific vivisection of one nerve till it is raw,
And the victim writhes with anguish - like the Jesuit with the squaw!

So it comes that Man, the coward, when he gathers to confer
With his fellow-braves in council, dare not leave a place for her
Where, at war with Life and Conscience, he uplifts his erring hands
To some God of abstract justice - which no woman understands.

And Man knows it! Knows, moreover, that the Woman that God gave him
Must command but may not govern; shall enthrall but not enslave him.
And She knows, because She warns him and Her instincts never fail,
That the female of Her species is more deadly than the male!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

“Corn me coke me … don’t provoke me.” Reece Myrdal

Next time you are at the movies try my old buddies order for Coke and Pop Corn. This one came one weekend in 1991 when we were allowed out of the boarding house to go and watch a movie. I think it was Pretty Women on the menue that night. Reece goes up to the disinterested individual at sweets stand, looks her in the eye and says very steadily and emphatically "corn me ... coke me ... don't provoke me".
I have no clue where it came from, but to this day I think of it every time I buy spring mielies at the movies.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

“The minority is sometimes right; the majority always wrong.” George Bernard Shaw

The quote is one I fully agree with - in this case. You see when I went to watch Quantum of Solace - the new James Bond - last week with my brother and his buddy Bo as guests of Bella Kitchens (for some reason I ended up representing a top notch architectural firm as a guest for these bathroom guys client entertainment at the movies) I noticed that the strange South African film of Mr Bones had a sequel out called ...wait for it people .... Mr Bones 2! Sweet Lord now that was certainly not expected. Such creativity such daring. I explained to my little brother that the original Mr Bones was the most successful movie ever to have played out on the bioscopes of the Republic. They looked at me with confusion, misunderstanding and a slight hint of curiosity etched comically on their faces, as if wondering if I had just overdosed on too many Maynards original wine gums (a scenario that was to play itself out over the weekend, but was not relevant at the time) and was talking Gibberish.

"I'm telling you bro; Scorsese, the Kohen brothers, Lucas ... none of those cats has anything on our boy Leon Schuster when it comes to entertaining South Africans on the big screen."

Still no comprehension from the youngsters. "You know Leon Schuster man, the guy who dresses up like a black dude and sings about the World Cup and shit?"

"Yea yea, we know who the fella is, but what the muff are you on about with this Mr Bones jargon?" they accused while staring at the movie poster representing the shocking movie.

I just laughed. They were just not going to buy the fact that Mr Bones had done better than the likes of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings or even movies like Batman , Rabobi and the Lion King. Then this morning while riding out on the streets of Cape Town, my rantings from the week before were confirmed. Actually that is not particularly accurate. My perceived rantings were now changed to be wise words of fact even though they sounded so wrong in every way at the time.
The head line read 'Bones Bounces Bond' Later in the day I read the article about how Mr Bones 2 ... although absolute crap (how could it not be) was kicking 007's ass all over South African cinema's.
It's rather amusing I must admit although another reminder about how the people I live and interact with daily, are really not the true majority of the country. Especially in Cape Town.

post script: The naming of this waste of time film is really so lazy, bland and uninpsirational in so many ways, but something else was getting to me that I could not put my piano playingesque finger on. Then I realised not only is it totally pathetic, however to add to the diabolicallity of the whole thing, it is totally wrong in every sense. You see when naming a sequel, although normally boring, it is correct (however not mandatory) to place the number of the current film in the title. This you will have seen with the likes of Rocky 2 through to 6, Die Hard 2 & 3 and so on and so forth ... not Die Hard Fourth ...that too would be incorrect.
It would also have been correct of the Mr Bones clowns to have done just what they have by naming their 2nd pathetic movie Mr Bones 2, if their movie was a sequel. Its not. Its a frikkin prequel. That is the whole movie takes place befoooooore Mr Bones the original. So how can they call the prequel Mr Bones 2?