Sunday, August 23, 2009

A wise man once said...

I sit now and ponder over the last few weeks. My life has been quite interesting you see. Mostly private affairs of which I will not dwell on here. In general everything is okay, an immense sense of calm filters through my heart, mind and soul as I type. The tinkling sound of a teaspoon meeting the edge of the cup while I gently stir hot fragrant rooibos and camomile tea is as good and as comforting as listening to an angel playing soft chords on a golden harp. Why all this you ask?

The dawn of realisation!

In this state of bliss everything makes sense. We humans place far too much emphasis on petty issues. These may seem like insignificant things and may be taken for granted by some. They do, however, build up inside. Some reach a point at which they explode into an undignified tearing heap of emotion. Others violently wrestle with their own minds, trying in vain to hide from the truth, all the while spiralling down into oblivion.

In your head, a logical voice speaks (imagine... Anthony Hopkins). "You, have problems!? Hah! Stop feeling sorry for yourself you pitiful excuse for a human." Anthony stares questioningly into your eyes before saying...

"...The world is full of, 'problems'. The trick to overcoming them lies in your own head. A problem is only percived as one after ones mind chooses to categorise a situation thusly."

"Well, think about it..."


"You are in fact, stronger than you know."


"The boundaries you are confined within are nothing more than imaginary points of failure you have identified for yourself based on... well... nothing really."

"You're going to die sometime whether you like it or not. Must you waste your life dwelling on petty issues and living in fear?"

"Get over it..."

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Milestones reached: Heroic Flatulence

(Warning! This post is about farts. Read at own risk.)

I don't know much about how people go about their daily lives, what motivates them, keeps them from kick starting a chainsaw and going on a blood rampage... that sort of thing. Milestones are the ticket for me. You see I have these seemingly pointless goals I randomly set for myself. I don't get carried away with them, in fact some of my pointless milestones are only added to the list after I've done them, kind of:

"Oh that was unique and fun! I should add it to my completed milestones list"

You see it's my list, so I make the rules as I go along (feel the power HAHAHAAAAA!!!). So back to the point of this post. I just ticked off a milestone today. Many people (most of them of the female persuasion) think farts are disgusting and should be kept private (sound, vibration, olfaction...the works). I'm not saying that I enjoy any of these things, I just believe that humans need to fart just like we need to breath. Why all the fuss over flatulence? It's a natural and beautiful process... well, when I say beautiful I refer to the ensuing relief. In any case my milestone was to accomplish something useful with flatulence.

I got more than I bargained for today when my sister came into my room to have a chat (we often have these long chats about nothing in particular). Today was different, I had just let one off before she walked into my room. I gave the usual (frantic) hand signals to warn her and she promptly screwed up her face and left after saying, "I thought there was something funky in the air..." or something along those lines. In any case her planned path was now diverted though the kitchens 'safe zone' where she spotted our rechargable torch catch alight on the table.

"EEbEE, THERE'S A FIRE IN THE KITCHEN!!!!"

I run to the kitchen and unplug the torch before the fire has a chance to explode into a raging inferno engulfing our house and possibly the ENTIRE TOWN (...hey, it could've happened). I therefore declare my farts, not only useful, but Heroic!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find some unique way to sign an autograph...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Soap opera madness?

I’ve always ripped on women for watching soap operas (or soapies). Don’t rip my head off just yet, I know loads of women that despise soapies and admit that I’m making huge assumptions here. Still, it’s my blog, I shall assume away with no further deliberation.


Soapies REALLY confused me, how could someone possibly spend so much time following the completely unspectacular, annoying and obviously FAKE life of a soapy character? I’m quite happy to put up with and occasionally enjoy a show that is fake and doesn’t hide it; even some reality shows are bearable. But soapies try so hard to fake reality that it completely destroys any sense of immersion into the plot. The fact that plots are so shallow and disturbingly mundane doesn’t help either... For instance, people don’t talk aloud to themselves when they are alone, reality doesn’t split society into good guys and bad guys (90% of people are just plain ‘neutral don’t give a crap’ guys) and we definitely don’t come back to life after having been killed off once. I could easily go on for another few pages on this topic; alas there is another more significant point to be made regarding soapies.


Soap Opera Digest!!!??? Holy Crap!


Back when I was at Wits University, and living with my gran, I would sit and chat with her after campus. We would happily converse about the good old days, recipes, her health and such, you know, usual old people talk… In any case our happy conversations would last exactly till (and not one second longer) the Days of Our Lives started on TV. My gran would instantly switch over to soapy mode.


For example (imagine grannies voice NOW): “…so my mother used to make white people food because, (queue days of our lives theme song) That Sami is such a Bitch! You should see what she did to Kerry…”


I’d sit around for a few minutes to be polite before ‘going to the kitchen for a snack’/‘needing to meet some friends’/ ‘going for a long toilet break’. What I didn’t count on was the fact that those minute doses of soapy culture together with observing my grannies behaviour made me realize the point of it all.


In fact what I came to realize was a bit scarier than a mere rudimentary understanding of why people of sane mind watch these programs. This stuff goes deep into human nature, the origins and development of conflict, violence, poverty, education, peer pressure… all stuffed into one super-concentrated energy drink we call a television. A blog post cannot possibly give this subject the attention it needs.



…I’m glad I realize this now (as in, this very second). I must end this post before my head explodes trying to explain it all to you. I haven’t even started and I’ve nearly reached my word limit.



So, about the very significant point I wanted to make about soapies… I won’t put it in here because it just wouldn’t make sense any more. Instead, I will end off with a bit of a conclusion (just to give you that sense of completion).

My opinion of people that watch soapies has changed from:


“You’re a bunch of desperate, lifeless, loonies” to


“You watch that soapy, you probably need it”.


You have a brain; just use it to fill in the bits of reasoning between those two statements. Sorry for the build up to nothing… again. I promise I’ll try to finish the next post.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

A new doggy!

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Charlie!

This picture was taken around two weeks ago when we just got him (±9 weeks old). Notice me in the backgroud dogproofing the fence...it worked! He hasn't managed to escape yet. Then again, bassett hounds are not the escape artist type. All it took were some cable-ties and shade cloth.

This is the "I'm lonely and hungry, come feed and play with me" look. It NEVER leaves his face. You get over it after a few weeks. Still works like a charm on people that come to visit though...


Things I've learned about Charlie:
  1. Miniscule attention span. He gets bored playing with a ball after about 5 seconds. This may be a new record...
  2. If left to his own devices, he will wonder off aimlessly in a random direction with no intention of returning.
  3. His favorite toy is a stuffed banana with a face and built in Whoopie cushion (whoever thought of this was a GENIUS!).
  4. He trips over his ears when he walks.

I've heard that it's REALLY difficult to train bassett hounds. I'm going to give it a try anyway. Watch this space (and wish me luck)!