Wednesday 30 December 2009
Monday 21 September 2009
TO RUN OR NOT TO RUN - or notes from Digger van der Murray's diary
It is interesting to gauge the reactions of people when you tell them you are leaving one country for another – not something I could comprehend or contemplate when my parents left Scotland for South Africa in early 1970.
Regrettably this wasn’t something I ever felt the need to discuss with them until now and unless I connect ethereally with them for confirmation, I’m unlikely to get their subjective opinions on the matter.
In my own recollection of their “need” to emigrate at that time, bolstered by what I came to know of their marriage and relationship dynamic, it always appeared to me that my dad was running from something rather than to something. It’s not to say that he didn’t believe he might be travelling to a land of opportunity (for South Africa certainly was that for a white minority elite during those times), but it was more of an escape than a new beginning I think. I believe my dad thought he would make his marriage better by changing it for a newer, more expansive lifestyle while subconsciously disregarding the looming reality that he was heading off to a white working-man’s paradise and plunging my mother into an alien culture that would isolate and polarise their relationship even further. He was exporting the problems from Scotland to South Africa while creating a whole range of new ones that my mother had no way of dealing with.
Needless to say, it didn’t fix their marriage – it served only to exacerbate their fragile relationship until it broke completely, at which time a new setting (Australia, ironically) was contemplated as the final place of therapy for an unhealthy domestic situation.
However, Australia merely became the battleground for the ultimate assault in the final analysis. So the venue didn’t resolve anything and they both died bitter people – bitter toward each other. It was a tragedy that I would have preferred not have been part of and fatefully was spared the ongoing destruction by dint of the oceans that separated us. My little brother and sister who were forced to emigrate with them weren’t so lucky. They got ringside seats.
My dad’s way of (not) dealing with things was kinda like a simplistic version of cognitive dissonance such as the way smokers constantly reaffirm that their habit is something they want to give up, cannot give up, know it’s bad for them but are virtually powerless to do anything about it. So instead of doing something positive – i.e. empowering themselves and their wellbeing by simply not smoking, they grapple with this concept that they are giving up something they actually need then go on to argue how much easier it is for people who don't have an addictive personality or how there needs to be a replacement habit to fill in for the damaging one. Or they just carry on as they are, bemoaning their lot, continuing to knowingly screw up their health as if it was the tobacco industry’s responsibility for their life choices. In the USA, some plaintiffs have even gone as far as to prove that it is the tobacco industry’s insidious marketing that got them hooked and once they were in, they couldn't get out.
What I battle with in any of those scenarios is this ongoing affirmation that we are victims of some heinous agenda which denies us the right or ability to make our own choices. Regardless of the physical addictiveness of nicotine or any other drug to which we find ourselves slavishly beholden, we still have the choice (no matter how difficult it may be) to stop taking the stuff.
It is remarkable how many people drop destructive habits when a modern-day god such as a medical expert tells them that unless they change their lifestyles, they are going to die very soon. Point is – we all have the ability to make different choices and evolve from the victim reality. But some of us choose to continue on potentially dangerous paths. So be it. In the case of moving to Oz – that has nothing to do with danger but everything to do with simply making a new choice.
I look on our impending migration as something akin to the preceding analogy – we decided to empower ourselves by doing something different in a new place – a place to go to rather than South Africa being a place to run from.
If we were running from something: fear, crime, apathy or the like then I don't believe for a moment we’d have been addressing the root of the issue but rather that we’d be merely supplanting our own fear of those things and hiding from them. We’re not. We’ve never had issues with any of those aspects of existence in South Africa or anywhere else for that matter despite me going through life as one of the most confrontational personalities I know. I attract that in my work as project management-related challenges require swift, resolutionary (my word) confrontation that has to be managed positively in order to succeed and progress but it doesn’t necessarily invite chaos or mayhem into my personal life which, although a work in progress, is a deliriously happy, idyllic one with the best woman in the world who shares the way I view our reality.
And although we have always created our own personal reality regarding health, wealth, safety, security etc., we are still surrounded by a largely fearful society that tacitly condones the ethos that the New South Africa has created. That isn't a criticism – it’s an observation of what we experience through interaction with friends and colleagues in our daily life and it’s not necessarily an ethos to which we subscribe. Which, I suppose, could make us hypocrites or could simply mean that we need a change if we cannot change the outlooks of everyone else around us – and clearly we can’t do that. So we need to change. And so we are.
Once we’d arrived at the decision to initiate the migration process and we spoke of this to people, a knee-jerk reaction from many was that they envied us the ability to be able to do it. Others sneered at the decision assuming we were heading off to Perth (aka Pretoria Far East) to continue with the careers we have in SA. When I abstractly tell people that no, it isn't Perth it’s Adelaide and Karen will most likely teach or work as a ceramist while I focus on my writing seriously, they think exactly the opposite of that – I’m not serious. Oh but I am.
Others said it is “easy” to run away from SA with a foreign passport and I guess that’s true if you want to run to an enclave under the sovereignty of the passport you hold – in my case, the United Kingdom with its vast but dwindling empire. But the bottom line is, I, a vegetarian would rather eat MacDonalds than live in a principality of the UK or heaven-forbid, the UK (Mud Island) itself. I just don't want to be there. Scotland will always be the land of my ancestors and lineage, a land I love dearly and the place where my morality was largely shaped by (despite their own shortcomings toward each other) loving, caring, and open-minded parents. But it isn't the place I want to return to, not is its managing neighbour, England nor Wales nor Ireland. I crave the wide open spaces and the climate that Africa or the broad expanses of Australia can offer.
And for the record – it is anything but “easy” to migrate to Australia what with the reams and reams of paperwork, a requirement to be younger than 45 and have some kind of formal qualifications in a field that they desire and may wish to sponsor. Not to mention her, as a South African, having to undergo English language aptitude testing on more than one occasion.
Having family there, which I have had for almost a full generation – direct blood-relations among many cousins, aunts and uncles – assists you in no way whatsoever. And Karen just makes it by virtue of age & qualifications; even so, she required additional points through state sponsorship which dictates the region and style of work she would be required to do for a prescribed period of time.
We are (or at last she for the most part is) working extremely hard just to qualify to move there so let it be known to all the sneery know-it-alls that it isn't easy just because you have a British passport. It means sweet FA, bru!
While it may be true to say that nothing stands still and South Africa is changing, if we examine the Jacob Zuma situation – that hasn’t changed at all – oh with the exception than unsurprisingly he is now the president of this wonderful country.
The fact that:
Zuma didn’t go to trial;
he wasn’t acquitted;
the charges weren’t dropped (no they weren’t – go back and re-read the court transcripts),
exemplifies the ethos that is prevalent in this country and presents this case as a microcosm of the macrocosm.
Given enough time, our passion for justice (not revenge) fades into apathy and we slip back into a numbed acceptance of the status-quo and go through the motions of everything being ok again. Everything isn't ok. Just because the NPA decided it wasn’t going to proceed with this case (despite the presence of prima-facie evidence compelling them to do so), a contrived and disingenuous story hinged on two key players in the NPA & (now defunct) Scorpions produced enough smoke and mirrors to allow Zuma to slip out the back door and become the president of the country.
The upshot of this – business as usual and the inevitable spin accompanied by absolutely zero accountability and a seemingly national acceptance that to proceed now with Zuma’s prosecution would be more damaging to SA than it would be helpful. Well, in my view, that remains to be seen but I doubt if it ever will be. Seen, that is.
And it’s not about being unforgiving either. It’s simply that it’s not the public’s position to forgive Zuma – it’s the judiciary’s job to do that or convict him as the case may be – a job that they haven’t been allowed to conduct in favour of political expediency with a horribly loaded agenda.
But the precedent that’s been set by this debacle, the arms-deal saga, travelgate and a myriad other corruption cases that have produced enough smoke to suggest a fire somewhere within the ANC’s upper echelon, remains the core of the pervasive mindset that poisons this land of ours.
In this terribly flawed and abundantly corrupt political landscape, the suspects and (in some cases) the guilty remain miraculously free from any manner of punishment or retribution. Is it any wonder that South Africans emulate this behaviour through all walks of life from corporate corruption to the cops on the take and the generally anarchic attitudes of the average citizen to the concept of law and order? Let’s face it – we don't obey speed limits, we jump traffic lights and stop signs, we make a national sport out of drinking and driving and the cops about whom we complain as being dense and corrupt are kept that way should they dare stop us for speeding (or some other irritating aspect of law enforcement) by the R50 we slip them rather than admit to our wrongdoing and allowing ourselves to be subjected to the inconvenience of the judicial process.
Well, by the same token, it would have been much more inconvenient for Zuma to have gone through yet another trial after they found his mate Shaik guilty (oh, hang on, I forgot – he’s at home in Durban courtesy of a tame physician, living on his ill-gotten spoils, the stolen boodle padded by a significant interest accrual – all at the taxpayer’s expense). Yeah why should our esteemed president have to go through the due process of law when we can’t be bothered with that tedious bullshit either? Glass houses and all that...
The answer is a simple one: Because – we are above the law in this fair and pleasant land – or at least that’s the way it seems. And working in corporate business, believe me, that’s exactly what we think.
Therein lies the issue that I have with South Africa and the so-called systems of governance in place here fomented by the corporations that ran and continue to run SA beyond the apartheid years. The same white elite that ran things back then are the same cronies (not the new black elite) that concocted the vehicle of BEE to protect the existing white oligarchy while ensuring the existing and emerging black elite are well looked after.
The saps (it is alleged) that BEE is supposedly designed to empower sink even further into abject poverty through the perverse machinations of BEE while our mercenary elitist hierarchy sucks the country dry through de-industrialisation and a potentially fatal dependency on imported commodities that we should be making ourselves to:
a) Provide basic employment & training programmes
b) Combat spiralling poverty and the consequential crime, and
c) Protect our economy now and in the future
But we have weathered the media circus of the general election, quietly forgotten about the issues that were raised during this process and now we pat Comrade Zuma on the back for simply meeting the triumphant Tri-Nations winning Boks at the airport. We waste copious media column-inches on the worthless (albeit fascinating to none but the terminally bored I’d imagine) issue of the gender identification of an award-winning South African athlete. I see it as a bonus if Caster Semenya has both sets of business parts – can’t he/she simply enter into the 800m men’s and women’s events and have two shots at gold? Yep – it’s the usual neverending servings of inconsequential drivel and smokescreens while the real business goes on in the backrooms of corporate boardrooms, on golf courses and in political offices countrywide.
It’s not to say that South Africa is poised on the brink of destruction – it’s not. It’s poised at the intersection of a very significant crossroads – one which offers the leadership the choice of doing the right thing and re-industrialising the country, putting wealth back instead of funnelling it offshore and creating an real equal-opportunity economy or continuing along the path upon which we now find ourselves, a tortuous, unsustainable one that will bleed the life out of the country in a very short space of time.
I have given my lot to this country from the age of ten, volunteered to enlist at the tender age of 17 being summarily exempted due to changing laws and my dual citizenship, paid my dues as a manual labourer, a tax-paying worker and someone who has tried throughout my life to do the right thing. I’m not about to hang around while South Africa decides what it’s going to do. And in my experience, as a global business (as any country surely is), it has mostly ignored the “right” choice in favour of self-serving agendas as has all of sub-Saharan Africa without exception while its citizens suffer as a consequence.
The right thing for us, as a couple, to do at this moment is look further afield and try a change of landscape, ethos and possibility. So that’s what we’re going to do.
But as it is with moving provinces, this does not compel total abandonment – as a Cape Province resident for a few of my years in this country, I remained and remain still, a long-suffering Lions rugby supporter. No matter how much my love of my intended new home, I will forever remain a Bok supporter through and through only shouting for the Wallabies whenever they play anyone else...
It was complex enough being a Scottish South African but adopting the mantle of a Scottish South African Australian – Digger Van der Murray – is going to be a whole new ballgame altogether...
Watch this space.
Regrettably this wasn’t something I ever felt the need to discuss with them until now and unless I connect ethereally with them for confirmation, I’m unlikely to get their subjective opinions on the matter.
In my own recollection of their “need” to emigrate at that time, bolstered by what I came to know of their marriage and relationship dynamic, it always appeared to me that my dad was running from something rather than to something. It’s not to say that he didn’t believe he might be travelling to a land of opportunity (for South Africa certainly was that for a white minority elite during those times), but it was more of an escape than a new beginning I think. I believe my dad thought he would make his marriage better by changing it for a newer, more expansive lifestyle while subconsciously disregarding the looming reality that he was heading off to a white working-man’s paradise and plunging my mother into an alien culture that would isolate and polarise their relationship even further. He was exporting the problems from Scotland to South Africa while creating a whole range of new ones that my mother had no way of dealing with.
Needless to say, it didn’t fix their marriage – it served only to exacerbate their fragile relationship until it broke completely, at which time a new setting (Australia, ironically) was contemplated as the final place of therapy for an unhealthy domestic situation.
However, Australia merely became the battleground for the ultimate assault in the final analysis. So the venue didn’t resolve anything and they both died bitter people – bitter toward each other. It was a tragedy that I would have preferred not have been part of and fatefully was spared the ongoing destruction by dint of the oceans that separated us. My little brother and sister who were forced to emigrate with them weren’t so lucky. They got ringside seats.
My dad’s way of (not) dealing with things was kinda like a simplistic version of cognitive dissonance such as the way smokers constantly reaffirm that their habit is something they want to give up, cannot give up, know it’s bad for them but are virtually powerless to do anything about it. So instead of doing something positive – i.e. empowering themselves and their wellbeing by simply not smoking, they grapple with this concept that they are giving up something they actually need then go on to argue how much easier it is for people who don't have an addictive personality or how there needs to be a replacement habit to fill in for the damaging one. Or they just carry on as they are, bemoaning their lot, continuing to knowingly screw up their health as if it was the tobacco industry’s responsibility for their life choices. In the USA, some plaintiffs have even gone as far as to prove that it is the tobacco industry’s insidious marketing that got them hooked and once they were in, they couldn't get out.
What I battle with in any of those scenarios is this ongoing affirmation that we are victims of some heinous agenda which denies us the right or ability to make our own choices. Regardless of the physical addictiveness of nicotine or any other drug to which we find ourselves slavishly beholden, we still have the choice (no matter how difficult it may be) to stop taking the stuff.
It is remarkable how many people drop destructive habits when a modern-day god such as a medical expert tells them that unless they change their lifestyles, they are going to die very soon. Point is – we all have the ability to make different choices and evolve from the victim reality. But some of us choose to continue on potentially dangerous paths. So be it. In the case of moving to Oz – that has nothing to do with danger but everything to do with simply making a new choice.
I look on our impending migration as something akin to the preceding analogy – we decided to empower ourselves by doing something different in a new place – a place to go to rather than South Africa being a place to run from.
If we were running from something: fear, crime, apathy or the like then I don't believe for a moment we’d have been addressing the root of the issue but rather that we’d be merely supplanting our own fear of those things and hiding from them. We’re not. We’ve never had issues with any of those aspects of existence in South Africa or anywhere else for that matter despite me going through life as one of the most confrontational personalities I know. I attract that in my work as project management-related challenges require swift, resolutionary (my word) confrontation that has to be managed positively in order to succeed and progress but it doesn’t necessarily invite chaos or mayhem into my personal life which, although a work in progress, is a deliriously happy, idyllic one with the best woman in the world who shares the way I view our reality.
And although we have always created our own personal reality regarding health, wealth, safety, security etc., we are still surrounded by a largely fearful society that tacitly condones the ethos that the New South Africa has created. That isn't a criticism – it’s an observation of what we experience through interaction with friends and colleagues in our daily life and it’s not necessarily an ethos to which we subscribe. Which, I suppose, could make us hypocrites or could simply mean that we need a change if we cannot change the outlooks of everyone else around us – and clearly we can’t do that. So we need to change. And so we are.
Once we’d arrived at the decision to initiate the migration process and we spoke of this to people, a knee-jerk reaction from many was that they envied us the ability to be able to do it. Others sneered at the decision assuming we were heading off to Perth (aka Pretoria Far East) to continue with the careers we have in SA. When I abstractly tell people that no, it isn't Perth it’s Adelaide and Karen will most likely teach or work as a ceramist while I focus on my writing seriously, they think exactly the opposite of that – I’m not serious. Oh but I am.
Others said it is “easy” to run away from SA with a foreign passport and I guess that’s true if you want to run to an enclave under the sovereignty of the passport you hold – in my case, the United Kingdom with its vast but dwindling empire. But the bottom line is, I, a vegetarian would rather eat MacDonalds than live in a principality of the UK or heaven-forbid, the UK (Mud Island) itself. I just don't want to be there. Scotland will always be the land of my ancestors and lineage, a land I love dearly and the place where my morality was largely shaped by (despite their own shortcomings toward each other) loving, caring, and open-minded parents. But it isn't the place I want to return to, not is its managing neighbour, England nor Wales nor Ireland. I crave the wide open spaces and the climate that Africa or the broad expanses of Australia can offer.
And for the record – it is anything but “easy” to migrate to Australia what with the reams and reams of paperwork, a requirement to be younger than 45 and have some kind of formal qualifications in a field that they desire and may wish to sponsor. Not to mention her, as a South African, having to undergo English language aptitude testing on more than one occasion.
Having family there, which I have had for almost a full generation – direct blood-relations among many cousins, aunts and uncles – assists you in no way whatsoever. And Karen just makes it by virtue of age & qualifications; even so, she required additional points through state sponsorship which dictates the region and style of work she would be required to do for a prescribed period of time.
We are (or at last she for the most part is) working extremely hard just to qualify to move there so let it be known to all the sneery know-it-alls that it isn't easy just because you have a British passport. It means sweet FA, bru!
While it may be true to say that nothing stands still and South Africa is changing, if we examine the Jacob Zuma situation – that hasn’t changed at all – oh with the exception than unsurprisingly he is now the president of this wonderful country.
The fact that:
Zuma didn’t go to trial;
he wasn’t acquitted;
the charges weren’t dropped (no they weren’t – go back and re-read the court transcripts),
exemplifies the ethos that is prevalent in this country and presents this case as a microcosm of the macrocosm.
Given enough time, our passion for justice (not revenge) fades into apathy and we slip back into a numbed acceptance of the status-quo and go through the motions of everything being ok again. Everything isn't ok. Just because the NPA decided it wasn’t going to proceed with this case (despite the presence of prima-facie evidence compelling them to do so), a contrived and disingenuous story hinged on two key players in the NPA & (now defunct) Scorpions produced enough smoke and mirrors to allow Zuma to slip out the back door and become the president of the country.
The upshot of this – business as usual and the inevitable spin accompanied by absolutely zero accountability and a seemingly national acceptance that to proceed now with Zuma’s prosecution would be more damaging to SA than it would be helpful. Well, in my view, that remains to be seen but I doubt if it ever will be. Seen, that is.
And it’s not about being unforgiving either. It’s simply that it’s not the public’s position to forgive Zuma – it’s the judiciary’s job to do that or convict him as the case may be – a job that they haven’t been allowed to conduct in favour of political expediency with a horribly loaded agenda.
But the precedent that’s been set by this debacle, the arms-deal saga, travelgate and a myriad other corruption cases that have produced enough smoke to suggest a fire somewhere within the ANC’s upper echelon, remains the core of the pervasive mindset that poisons this land of ours.
In this terribly flawed and abundantly corrupt political landscape, the suspects and (in some cases) the guilty remain miraculously free from any manner of punishment or retribution. Is it any wonder that South Africans emulate this behaviour through all walks of life from corporate corruption to the cops on the take and the generally anarchic attitudes of the average citizen to the concept of law and order? Let’s face it – we don't obey speed limits, we jump traffic lights and stop signs, we make a national sport out of drinking and driving and the cops about whom we complain as being dense and corrupt are kept that way should they dare stop us for speeding (or some other irritating aspect of law enforcement) by the R50 we slip them rather than admit to our wrongdoing and allowing ourselves to be subjected to the inconvenience of the judicial process.
Well, by the same token, it would have been much more inconvenient for Zuma to have gone through yet another trial after they found his mate Shaik guilty (oh, hang on, I forgot – he’s at home in Durban courtesy of a tame physician, living on his ill-gotten spoils, the stolen boodle padded by a significant interest accrual – all at the taxpayer’s expense). Yeah why should our esteemed president have to go through the due process of law when we can’t be bothered with that tedious bullshit either? Glass houses and all that...
The answer is a simple one: Because – we are above the law in this fair and pleasant land – or at least that’s the way it seems. And working in corporate business, believe me, that’s exactly what we think.
Therein lies the issue that I have with South Africa and the so-called systems of governance in place here fomented by the corporations that ran and continue to run SA beyond the apartheid years. The same white elite that ran things back then are the same cronies (not the new black elite) that concocted the vehicle of BEE to protect the existing white oligarchy while ensuring the existing and emerging black elite are well looked after.
The saps (it is alleged) that BEE is supposedly designed to empower sink even further into abject poverty through the perverse machinations of BEE while our mercenary elitist hierarchy sucks the country dry through de-industrialisation and a potentially fatal dependency on imported commodities that we should be making ourselves to:
a) Provide basic employment & training programmes
b) Combat spiralling poverty and the consequential crime, and
c) Protect our economy now and in the future
But we have weathered the media circus of the general election, quietly forgotten about the issues that were raised during this process and now we pat Comrade Zuma on the back for simply meeting the triumphant Tri-Nations winning Boks at the airport. We waste copious media column-inches on the worthless (albeit fascinating to none but the terminally bored I’d imagine) issue of the gender identification of an award-winning South African athlete. I see it as a bonus if Caster Semenya has both sets of business parts – can’t he/she simply enter into the 800m men’s and women’s events and have two shots at gold? Yep – it’s the usual neverending servings of inconsequential drivel and smokescreens while the real business goes on in the backrooms of corporate boardrooms, on golf courses and in political offices countrywide.
It’s not to say that South Africa is poised on the brink of destruction – it’s not. It’s poised at the intersection of a very significant crossroads – one which offers the leadership the choice of doing the right thing and re-industrialising the country, putting wealth back instead of funnelling it offshore and creating an real equal-opportunity economy or continuing along the path upon which we now find ourselves, a tortuous, unsustainable one that will bleed the life out of the country in a very short space of time.
I have given my lot to this country from the age of ten, volunteered to enlist at the tender age of 17 being summarily exempted due to changing laws and my dual citizenship, paid my dues as a manual labourer, a tax-paying worker and someone who has tried throughout my life to do the right thing. I’m not about to hang around while South Africa decides what it’s going to do. And in my experience, as a global business (as any country surely is), it has mostly ignored the “right” choice in favour of self-serving agendas as has all of sub-Saharan Africa without exception while its citizens suffer as a consequence.
The right thing for us, as a couple, to do at this moment is look further afield and try a change of landscape, ethos and possibility. So that’s what we’re going to do.
But as it is with moving provinces, this does not compel total abandonment – as a Cape Province resident for a few of my years in this country, I remained and remain still, a long-suffering Lions rugby supporter. No matter how much my love of my intended new home, I will forever remain a Bok supporter through and through only shouting for the Wallabies whenever they play anyone else...
It was complex enough being a Scottish South African but adopting the mantle of a Scottish South African Australian – Digger Van der Murray – is going to be a whole new ballgame altogether...
Watch this space.
Monday 7 September 2009
NUTS (or lack thereof) TO CYCLING
I got on my bicycle for the first time in about 3 years the other day and went for a ride.
Why the prolonged hiatus?
Well, it's a question of nuts really. Or rather - how you would like your nuts (speaking solely from a man's perspective, of course).
You see - cycling may be very good exercise and it may well work your cardio-vascular system in a manageable way, it may help you lose weight, define muscle tone (on the legs) while burning fat off the upper body over a period of time.
Yes, folks, cycling may do all of these beneficial things but unfortunately in the course of this benefit, danger and misery lurks... and I'm not talking about falling off - that's gonna happen anyway sooner or later. There are, we know, two types of cyclists:
1. Those that have fallen off
and
2. Those that will fall off
No, I'm talking about saddles and ass assemblies and how both are designed.
Now if you were to have a look at your ass - in a mirror is preferable otherwise your neck could develop serious muscle spasm from peering over your shoulder - you would see instantly that the distance between the centre of each butt cheek bears absolutely no resemblance to the widest part of a standard bicycle saddle.
Why, you may ask, is this the case?
For you actually sit on your butt cheeks don't you?
Or you're supposed to aren't you?
And the simple answer to these two fundamental questions is - YES - of course you are supposed to sit on your butt cheeks. That's why the padding was put there in the first place and it must be said here and now that some people have more padding than others and it's a matter of fact that women tend to have a bit more padding than men. It's true, I tell you - it's a gender trait - I didn't design us - but there it is. Live with it.
And don't worry - it isn't cycling shorts that make our butts look bigger - it's usually a shitload of fatty food and a crappy lifestyle devoid of exercise that does that. But I digress.
Padded cycling shorts make everyone look like they've just shit themselves anyway so no fashion statement there, honey, I don't care who makes the fucking things.
So you measure your centre of butt-cheek to centre of butt-cheek gauge and you take this measurement and compare it to the saddle you've been told is the ultimate in aerodynamic excellence and state-of-art designing.
But, you conclude, if your ass cheek gauge is much wider than this costly rapierlike accessory (and everyone's is - without exception even the skinny gits) then won't the cheeks be hanging over each side of the thing and your weight will be resting on....
That's absolutely correct, Einstein - your entire upper body weight will be resting on that shard of anatomy that connects your asshole to your pink (dangly - in many cases) bits!
But, I hear you cry (and cry you soon will, I promise you), that ridge of fleshy meat surely wasn't designed for that purpose?
And again, dear masochists, you'd be totally spot on.
And after several hours of writhing around on this bridge of gristle with testicles (in guys - and maybe some women - who knows?) being ground against the unyielding pommel, it is scant wonder that these once magnificent spheres of pleasure and manhood, dessicate into worthless prunes after just one supposedly healthy ride. And the rider rolls away on tottering legs like a sailor after ten months at sea or a John Wayne impersonator showing how a real cowboy should swagger...
And for the ladies, I can only imagine the havoc being wreaked upon those delicate folds of flesh that deserve nothing more robust than the gentle lapping of a lover's tongue or the tender ministrations of a more practised nature than the pounding of a R600 hardened bar of plastic whacking into them like a miniature jackhammer in overdrive.
Suffice to say, I don't buy this macho bullshit dispensed by the hardcore cycling fraternity when they say: "You learn to ride through the pain."
What a crock of bollocks (or "what a crush of bollocks" to be more precise).
Why should any sane person trust a man who believes that shaving his legs will make him so much more aerodynamic than he was before he started this macho hobby?
And secondly, anyone who tries to convince you that bicycle saddles have to be rapier thin to provide a lower drag co-efficient, needs to see a shrink or get a 21st century reality check.
When the saddle is being overlaid by a large ass assembly, a gnarly scrotal appendage, cycling-shorts' padding and a pair of meaty thighs and all of these attachments present themselves to the oncoming wind before it has any chance of reaching the saddle (if it ever does), then how in God's name does the skinny, uncomfortable piece of shit designed by the Marquis de Sade require to be aerodynamic at all?
And the very simple answer is - IT DOESN"T!!!
So, once I had figured this out (it didn't take me long) - I designed myself a saddle that (while perhaps not sleek and Armani-ish) allowed me to rest my buttocks upon it as they were designed to do and designed, I may add, by a superior being infinitely more savvy than any wanked out smooth-legged cycling afficionado!
Then glory be! I found myself a saddle in a Cape Town cycling store that went one better as it resembled an upholstered tractor seat but with a webbing spring assembly beneath soft padded rubber, the whole thing sitting on little suspension springs and augmented by the soft-tail mono-shock on my Orbea mountain bike.
And guess what, folks?
You don't even have to wear one of those padded cycling shorts/nappies when you get on to hit the roughest terrain.
Why not? I hear you ask.
1. Because the saddle design and the bike suspension takes the hits!
2. And your arse is on the seat, your bollocks (other prettier bits for ladies) are well out of the way of the grinding zone and your legs can pedal freely on either side of the pommel without emasculating you or initiating some other unmentionable mischief.
I thus beseech you all - gentlemen and ladyfolk alike:
Don't let them bullshit you with -
It has to hurt but you get used to it....
or
No pain, no gain
or
This one is really aerodynamic
or
Any other inane bullshit that has no foundation in common-sense reality.
Buy yourself a saddle that looks like an upholstered tractor seat and have fun.
If you are a seriously psycho harcore cycling freak pushing the Giro crews on the Tour-de-France mountain climbs and you are usually seen racing wearing the latest in yellow accoutrements and you need to be sleeker than a hairless, polished beanpole, then maybe this advice isn't for you and you deserve to be a eunuch or a woman with a permanently bruised pudding anyway.
But if not, be fucking sensible and forego the pain.
Trust me - I'm not a gynaecologist but I'll have a look at it for you anyway!
Why the prolonged hiatus?
Well, it's a question of nuts really. Or rather - how you would like your nuts (speaking solely from a man's perspective, of course).
You see - cycling may be very good exercise and it may well work your cardio-vascular system in a manageable way, it may help you lose weight, define muscle tone (on the legs) while burning fat off the upper body over a period of time.
Yes, folks, cycling may do all of these beneficial things but unfortunately in the course of this benefit, danger and misery lurks... and I'm not talking about falling off - that's gonna happen anyway sooner or later. There are, we know, two types of cyclists:
1. Those that have fallen off
and
2. Those that will fall off
No, I'm talking about saddles and ass assemblies and how both are designed.
Now if you were to have a look at your ass - in a mirror is preferable otherwise your neck could develop serious muscle spasm from peering over your shoulder - you would see instantly that the distance between the centre of each butt cheek bears absolutely no resemblance to the widest part of a standard bicycle saddle.
Why, you may ask, is this the case?
For you actually sit on your butt cheeks don't you?
Or you're supposed to aren't you?
And the simple answer to these two fundamental questions is - YES - of course you are supposed to sit on your butt cheeks. That's why the padding was put there in the first place and it must be said here and now that some people have more padding than others and it's a matter of fact that women tend to have a bit more padding than men. It's true, I tell you - it's a gender trait - I didn't design us - but there it is. Live with it.
And don't worry - it isn't cycling shorts that make our butts look bigger - it's usually a shitload of fatty food and a crappy lifestyle devoid of exercise that does that. But I digress.
Padded cycling shorts make everyone look like they've just shit themselves anyway so no fashion statement there, honey, I don't care who makes the fucking things.
So you measure your centre of butt-cheek to centre of butt-cheek gauge and you take this measurement and compare it to the saddle you've been told is the ultimate in aerodynamic excellence and state-of-art designing.
But, you conclude, if your ass cheek gauge is much wider than this costly rapierlike accessory (and everyone's is - without exception even the skinny gits) then won't the cheeks be hanging over each side of the thing and your weight will be resting on....
That's absolutely correct, Einstein - your entire upper body weight will be resting on that shard of anatomy that connects your asshole to your pink (dangly - in many cases) bits!
But, I hear you cry (and cry you soon will, I promise you), that ridge of fleshy meat surely wasn't designed for that purpose?
And again, dear masochists, you'd be totally spot on.
And after several hours of writhing around on this bridge of gristle with testicles (in guys - and maybe some women - who knows?) being ground against the unyielding pommel, it is scant wonder that these once magnificent spheres of pleasure and manhood, dessicate into worthless prunes after just one supposedly healthy ride. And the rider rolls away on tottering legs like a sailor after ten months at sea or a John Wayne impersonator showing how a real cowboy should swagger...
And for the ladies, I can only imagine the havoc being wreaked upon those delicate folds of flesh that deserve nothing more robust than the gentle lapping of a lover's tongue or the tender ministrations of a more practised nature than the pounding of a R600 hardened bar of plastic whacking into them like a miniature jackhammer in overdrive.
Suffice to say, I don't buy this macho bullshit dispensed by the hardcore cycling fraternity when they say: "You learn to ride through the pain."
What a crock of bollocks (or "what a crush of bollocks" to be more precise).
Why should any sane person trust a man who believes that shaving his legs will make him so much more aerodynamic than he was before he started this macho hobby?
And secondly, anyone who tries to convince you that bicycle saddles have to be rapier thin to provide a lower drag co-efficient, needs to see a shrink or get a 21st century reality check.
When the saddle is being overlaid by a large ass assembly, a gnarly scrotal appendage, cycling-shorts' padding and a pair of meaty thighs and all of these attachments present themselves to the oncoming wind before it has any chance of reaching the saddle (if it ever does), then how in God's name does the skinny, uncomfortable piece of shit designed by the Marquis de Sade require to be aerodynamic at all?
And the very simple answer is - IT DOESN"T!!!
So, once I had figured this out (it didn't take me long) - I designed myself a saddle that (while perhaps not sleek and Armani-ish) allowed me to rest my buttocks upon it as they were designed to do and designed, I may add, by a superior being infinitely more savvy than any wanked out smooth-legged cycling afficionado!
Then glory be! I found myself a saddle in a Cape Town cycling store that went one better as it resembled an upholstered tractor seat but with a webbing spring assembly beneath soft padded rubber, the whole thing sitting on little suspension springs and augmented by the soft-tail mono-shock on my Orbea mountain bike.
And guess what, folks?
You don't even have to wear one of those padded cycling shorts/nappies when you get on to hit the roughest terrain.
Why not? I hear you ask.
1. Because the saddle design and the bike suspension takes the hits!
2. And your arse is on the seat, your bollocks (other prettier bits for ladies) are well out of the way of the grinding zone and your legs can pedal freely on either side of the pommel without emasculating you or initiating some other unmentionable mischief.
I thus beseech you all - gentlemen and ladyfolk alike:
Don't let them bullshit you with -
It has to hurt but you get used to it....
or
No pain, no gain
or
This one is really aerodynamic
or
Any other inane bullshit that has no foundation in common-sense reality.
Buy yourself a saddle that looks like an upholstered tractor seat and have fun.
If you are a seriously psycho harcore cycling freak pushing the Giro crews on the Tour-de-France mountain climbs and you are usually seen racing wearing the latest in yellow accoutrements and you need to be sleeker than a hairless, polished beanpole, then maybe this advice isn't for you and you deserve to be a eunuch or a woman with a permanently bruised pudding anyway.
But if not, be fucking sensible and forego the pain.
Trust me - I'm not a gynaecologist but I'll have a look at it for you anyway!
Sunday 9 August 2009
Springbok Anthem 2007 II
THE SPRINGBOK ANTHEM 2007
CHORUS:
Oh, oh, oh, oh, the Springboks
They're lightning, they're agile, yeah they're solid as rocks
While singing the anthem we all might shed a tear
But bring on the English coz the Springboks are here!
…Up front there's CJ, and there's Os and John Smit
…Yes they'll be pumped up from the very first hit
Every" "Touch, pause, engage!" - Will inspire them with rage
And the English front row will submit
CHORUS
We got a Blou Bulle second row pair
Yes it's a combo that's beyond compare
From the Bull Ring of Hatfield - Bakkies Botha and Matfield
They're the kings of the ball in the air
And then there's Burger and Smith and Rossouw
Yes, they're our fetching and fighting back row
In the rucks and the mauls -Yeah these boys have the balls
To make sure that the next phase can flow
CHORUS
We got a midfield of Butch, Jacque and Steyn
Yes we'll inflict on the Pommies much pain
And with our whiplike attack - Jonny Wilko will crack
And his kicking will go down the drain
And then there's Fourie du Preez as our scrummie
Oh he can kick, dart or sell one a dummy
Yes he's the world number one - At the base of the scrum
And at crossing the line on his tummy
Our left wing is someone called Bryan
Whose forte is low-level flying
His side step and ducking - Leaves opponents just kakking
And that's when he's not even trying
CHORUS:
And then to counter the in-ter-cept king
…There stands JP on the o-ppo-site wing
Yes, he's so young and in-spired - He never gets tired
Gives our backline its scorpion sting
And Monty our veteran fullback
With his highlights, he cops all the flak
But his highlight for me - Is his consistency
And his calmness when under attack
CHORUS:
And not forgetting our boys on the side
They're still a wave in our green and gold tide
Oh yeah the awesome Jake White - With his flair and insight
Win or lose - fills our nation with pride!
Yes now the battle is over and done
Aha - the English have turned tail and run
Mister Smit and his team – they've returned with a dream
Yes our brilliant young Springboks have won!
CHORUS:
Oh, oh, oh, oh the Springboks
They're lightning, they're agile, yeah they're solid as rocks
Yes now the anthem is over, the flag is unfurled
Coz we're champions of Paris – we're Kings of the World!
We're champions of Paris – we're Kings of the World!
We're champions of Paris – we're Kings of the World!
lyrics © Paul Murray 2007
Music: Sven Goldin
Arrangement: Sven Goldin
Recorded: November 2007
Paris Studios Fish Hoek
Thanks to:
Sven from Paul and Paul from Sven for the experience and to Paris for the jol doing this thing, to Jake White, John Smit and the Springboks for making us so darn proud again, to Jacob Zuma, Thabo Mbeki and Eskom for all engaging equally in the South African power struggle, God, Goddess, It, The Great Achitect of the Universe, Wakan-Tanka, prana, absolutely nothing at all (if Richard Dawkins is to be believed), the Japanese for inventing sushi, that omnipotent being again for inventing everything else including Lucifer who should be used, like Robert Mugabe and GW Bush as a source of inspiration of how not to do things, Frank Zappa for being the single biggest inspiration in Maul's life without actually having met the dude and for ensuring that humour definitely belongs in music, everyone on the path to the point we're now at and all relationships good and bad that have helped shape the people we've become, merkaba meditation, the birds and the bees, Arno Carstens for keeping me interested in amazing local music, Alan Day for selecting the guitar I can't play yet, the first person on the planet who ever struck a chord or hummed a tune or strung some lyrics together in a rhyme, Enki and Enlil and their race of beings who most likely seeded the pair of species that eventually became men and women and by the luck of genetic engineering or the intervention of the Syrians found procreative compatibility – i.e. we made a new species when we did the horizontal bop for the very first time, Woolies for pre-packing food and taking the pips out of the fruits I like coz I'm a lazy man who still has trouble with invisible socks that my fiancée can always seem to find (I don't know why she carries them around with her ready to plant where I've already looked), my kids for teaching me things I thought I had already learned mostly patience, and finally to Karen, the best thing that ever happened to me and continues to be the best thing that happens to me every day all the time to infinity and beyond. P – Dec. 2007
Wednesday 1 July 2009
KING OF POP DIES...WACKO JACKO BOWS OUT
25th June 2009 - BREAKING NEWS – MICHAEL JACKSON DIES AGED 50!
The tragic news of controversial pop-star and self-styled “king of Pop”, Michael Jackson’s death in Los Angeles has brought with it reactions of abject grief in many and little surprise in others given his eccentric and self destructive lifestyle.
Love or hate the “Peter Pan of Pop”, one could hardly ignore him, whether it was looking on dumbfounded at his physical transformation over the years from a cute black kid to the androgynous white creature he became in his latter years or simply reeling at the bizarre behaviour he exhibited for all to see – building a kids-only fairground on his sprawling LA property, dangling babies out of hotel room windows or just hanging out with precocious juveniles and monkeys. Although the latter behaviour probably pertains to many brat-pack American celebrities so let’s not judge him too harshly on that one.
Once the 911 call had been logged and emergency medical services dispatched to the eccentric singer’s home in the small hours of June 25th, he was reportedly found in a strange condition – when wasn’t he in a strange condition? one might ask.
Reports of Jackson’s injuries vary as some allege that he suffered cardiac arrest, other unconfirmed reports say he was incapacitated from food poisoning from having eaten some 12 year old nuts and a wiener while others say he was merely exhausted and had suffered a physical collapse.
“He was fine,” paramedic Buzz Mafone said after dropping the singer off at the UCLA medical centre, “until we wheeled him past the paediatric ward when he went stiff…”
Unconfirmed reports say it wasn’t cardiac arrest at all but he had a stroke in the Children’s Ward at the medical facility. A white, sticky patch on the Ward wall was recorded as Jackson’s last single release. Teeny boppers are already reportedly lapping it up.
Reports of a tiny pair of boxer-shorts taped to the pop-icon’s upper arm were not an unusual sight according to Jackson’s personal physician. “He was in rehab wearing a paedo-patch – trying to give up his habit,” the doc was heard to say.
Whatever the cause of death, and the county coroner isn’t sure on that one either issuing a statement that it could have been a variety of causal factors: Moonlight, sunshine, good times or boogie – he wasn’t sure what to blame it on exactly.
Uncertainty surrounds the actual time of death as well where the closest approximation from the office of the County Coroner places it around the time - “when the big hand was on the little hand…”
The tragedy of the event now denies the world the opportunity to have witnessed Jackson’s much-vaunted Comeback Tour in the UK, however, Manchester United manager, Sir Alex Ferguson was heard to comment upon receipt of the news that: “I’ll still be playing Giggs in August so dinnae worry!”
Similarly the Jackson Five were poised to relaunch their collective careers after Michael’s series of gigs but have now had to offer a 20% discount to Jackson 5 concert ticket holders.
Jermaine, brother of the late singer, said that they had been given a torrid time by the authorities following Michael’s death, certain issues raised - one being a knock-back from the undertaker saying that they wouldn’t accept plastic.
“As if that wasn’t bad enough,” Jermaine said, “but the EPA has cited us for planning to ‘dispose of toxic waste in a white plastic container’. Then there was the matter of the funeral itself. Michael had very specific last wishes – if he couldn’t be cremated and sprinkled into packets of Cheerios so he go through all those little assholes one last time, then he elected to have his casket carried by his best friends but the UCLA Garden of Remembrance management aren’t sure that so many six year olds would fit around the coffin…”
“Failing interment or cremation,” Jermaine went on, “Michael’s last resort would have been a burial at sea, being tossed between two buoys. He loved the idea of being surrounded by seamen.”
And the problems don’t end there: the comeback tour was an attempt by Jackson to stave off looming bankruptcy where now his bizarre assets will be auctioned off to settle his enormous debt.
Latest reports on this front confirm that Gary Glitter has made a $1m bid for the Moonwalker’s laptop although, Jermaine noted: “Bubbles isn’t really for sale. We’re looking for a good home for the ape, though – he’s very friendly, loves children and being whacked off by a white-gloved hand.” Jackson’s brother went on to say that if the auction went well, Bubbles would probably end up as the wealthiest monkey in the world after GW Bush.
The rush for memorabilia and Jackson’s many recordings has already begun and a new Mr Potato Head figure in Jackson’s image has been manufactured featuring five different removable noses. The high level of recyclable plastic following the cremation will be used to fashion Jacko Lego blocks so that kiddies can play with him for a change. And the London HQ of Madame Tussaud’s has now put in a bid to have the realistic Michael Jackson waxwork replaced with the newer plastic version “now that it’s become available”.
Crossing Over star, John Edward, the renowned mystic and celebrity has issued a statement to the press that he has already received messages from Michael from beyond and that he’s okay and in a better place. “In fact,” Edward stated, “Michael said he had met St Peter who had made him a probationary angel until he had passed his first test – making it through the Christmas bash without getting too close to the manger and baby Jesus. Michael had also met with Farrah Fawcett and had been hurt by the rumours that just because she had been ‘fucking Majors’ didn’t mean automatically that he had been ‘fucking minors’. He also poured derision on the rumours from the Heavenly choir that he had molested Casper the friendly ghost or that Farrah’s last earthly wish had been to save all the children of the world hence Michel’s sudden demise. It was all lies, Michael said – lies that had followed him to heaven.”
Whatever you may wish to believe of this man/woman/other – he was certainly imbued with talent that nobody could deny.
No matter how poor the taste of this piece (and Jacko was his own worst enemy not me or the piss-takers who came up with all the jokes); I personally loved his music, his contribution to the world of entertainment and despite it all - his chequered but brilliant legacy will live on forever.
While angel Elvis gobbles down another celestial cheeseburger and strains the sequined jumpsuit with the wings just a little more, maybe the heavenly host will be able to scrounge up a couple of needles and a yard of fabric and make Michael another glove and find a pair of trousers that actually fit him.
RIP Michael Jackson you twisted genius. (1958 – 2009)
PS - apologies to all affected by this but I don't think Michael gives a rat's ass now.
Wednesday 27 May 2009
BLOG CORRECTION
Apologies to Yukio Mishima (whom I have recently discovered and) from whose work the quotation:
"Eternal is the warrior who find beauty in his wounds..." originates.
I previously attributed this to Jackie Leven who used Mishima's beautiful quote as the final line in his haunting song Main Travelled Roads (circa 1981)
I intend delving a little deeper into this talented and tragic man's work.
Monday 27 April 2009
ZUMABABWEAN TRAGEDY (sung to the tune of BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY with apologies to Freddy Mercury)
Is this a real man?
Is this a parody?
Expecting a landslide
Well here's the reality...
Open your eyes
It's bullshit and lies
You'll see
He's a real Zulu boy
Who's into polygamy
You see it's Arms Deal Rands - in his hands
Schabir Shaik at his command
Any way the cash flows
That's where Zuma's gonna be...
Zuma - just sold a man
Yeah, his name was Schabir Shaik
The crooked dog was on the take
Come on - someone had to burn
There's no way it would be old Jacob Zee
Zuma - ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Couldn't let the charges stick
We'll have to conjure up some smoke and mirrors
Carry on, carry on
As if justice doesn't matter
Too late - Selebi's done
A partner in the crime
But he won't do any time
We've bought everybody
So long ago
But the NPA still wants my day in court
Zuma - ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
The Scorpions must die
And that way I will never be tried at all
We'll use the old Polokwane master plan
In the bush, in the bush where Mbeki is hanged - oh
While his noose is tightening everyone is watching me
Got away oh (got away oh) Got away oh (got away oh) Got away oh (got away oh) - hit the dough
Magnifico-o-o-o-o
I'm just a Zulu boy - leading the ANC
He's just a Zulu boy - showering for HIV
Sharing his dick with his menagerie
This Zuma parody
Easy bucks, easy dough - will I reap what I sow?
Ms Zille: - no you won't reap what you sow
Won't reap what you sow
Ms Zille: - no you won't reap what you sow
Won't reap what you sow
Ms Zille: - no you won't reap what you sow
Won't reap what you sow
Won't reap what you sow
Won't reap what you sow-o-o-o-o
Oh never fear, never fear, never fear - I won't go
The NPA has a loophole set aside for me, for me, for me....
See I told you I'd get off and still be the guy
Who would win this election and make you all cry!
So shady - all my dealings are shady
And I got Shaik - and I got Shaik out of jail
Justice doesn't matter
Anyone can see
Justice doesn't matter
Justice doesn't matter to me
Any way the bucks flow.....
Thursday 19 February 2009
MY VIRAL CONDITION
DAY 1.
Yes, something recently overhwelmed my indomitable physicality and turned my joints into wobbling, gnarly things (not to be confused with my wife's sculptures of the same name...) that ached and groaned as I moved, my head was a vacuous space (no, it isn't always a vacuous space - sometimes I watch rugby and yell at the TV) filled with high-expansion urethane foam and the numb semi-euphoric feeling sapped me into total inactivity. I stalled on the settee and couldn't be kick-started or jump-started or anything.
You must understand that if my wife fails to jump-start me then there is something seriously amiss.
But never fear!
DAY 2.
Virus, what virus?
Oh yeah I kicked it's arse - Disgruntled Eel (my Dimac “waihao” or nickname* follow link below) crushed the bug with the famously dangerous chicken noodle manoeuvre (and a liberal dose of all-natural immune-boosting muti).
There is nothing left of this virus to even study - that's how efficacious the chicken noodle manoeuvre actually is.
Chuck Norris wishes he could master the art of Dimac - Chuck would get fucked up just trying to put on a pair of Dimac Gi trousers...
If he even tried to read the manual that describes the chicken noodle manoeuvre, he would instantly self-destruct as the processing of the data describing this deadly move if read aloud (which is what Chuck has to do to understand things) initiates an unraveling of the human DNA that would disintegrate poor Chuck like a mango in a microwave.
With reverence
http://comics.com/monty/?DateAfter=2001-03-04&DateBefore=2008-12-23&Order=&PerPage=1&x=39&y=12&Search=VENGEFUL+COBRA
Disgruntled Eel
DIMAC practitioner
Yes, something recently overhwelmed my indomitable physicality and turned my joints into wobbling, gnarly things (not to be confused with my wife's sculptures of the same name...) that ached and groaned as I moved, my head was a vacuous space (no, it isn't always a vacuous space - sometimes I watch rugby and yell at the TV) filled with high-expansion urethane foam and the numb semi-euphoric feeling sapped me into total inactivity. I stalled on the settee and couldn't be kick-started or jump-started or anything.
You must understand that if my wife fails to jump-start me then there is something seriously amiss.
But never fear!
DAY 2.
Virus, what virus?
Oh yeah I kicked it's arse - Disgruntled Eel (my Dimac “waihao” or nickname* follow link below) crushed the bug with the famously dangerous chicken noodle manoeuvre (and a liberal dose of all-natural immune-boosting muti).
There is nothing left of this virus to even study - that's how efficacious the chicken noodle manoeuvre actually is.
Chuck Norris wishes he could master the art of Dimac - Chuck would get fucked up just trying to put on a pair of Dimac Gi trousers...
If he even tried to read the manual that describes the chicken noodle manoeuvre, he would instantly self-destruct as the processing of the data describing this deadly move if read aloud (which is what Chuck has to do to understand things) initiates an unraveling of the human DNA that would disintegrate poor Chuck like a mango in a microwave.
With reverence
http://comics.com/monty/?DateAfter=2001-03-04&DateBefore=2008-12-23&Order=&PerPage=1&x=39&y=12&Search=VENGEFUL+COBRA
Disgruntled Eel
DIMAC practitioner
Friday 13 February 2009
CONSPIRACY - WHAT CONSPIRACY?
I receive many emails and some concern things by concerned people and don't always go down too well.
Such as the following message from my friend, Sven, who was being politely chastised for "spamming" a friend of his with "conspiracy theory" posts:
One of my friends wrote me this - my reply follows..
I love you dearly, my friend, but please take me off your distribution list. I don't set any store by conspiracy theories and find them mildly annoying to deal with while the world goes down the tubes by means that are in plain sight and from which conspiracy theories are an unnecessary distraction.
To which Sven responded:
My dear friend,
Although much or even most of what passes as conspiracy theory could well be false, it's important
to understand that "conspiracy theory" is always the first term the establishment turns to when they want to
quickly debunk an idea which threatens them. If these ideas were harmless to them they would probably be just ignored.
I have little idea of what is really true. (Who does ?) But there's one thing I'm pretty sure is true:
That the crucial power structures operate behind the scenes and are knowingly kept top secret by the owners of the media.
What is offered to us as the actual power structure (i.e. the president, congress etc) is the trick that is used to deceive as
to the truth of from whence the strings are actually pulled. (Obama is just part of the latest stunt).
Regards
Sven
My own take:
“The means that are in plain sight” are indeed the most insidious insults of all and while I don’t specifically see myself as a conspiracy-theorist, I am certainly a sceptic and the very basis of science, as acknowledged by scientists, is founded on scepticism – questioning everything all the time until the evidence can provide “proof” which can be replicated to support the original theory that began the process.
So whether one subscribes to the belief in science or simply trusts the sense of instinct, I maintain that most people’s belief in what’s going on in the world is based, not on science, but on the mainstream version of events as promoted by the media. Anthropogenic Global Warming is one such debate, the presumed correlation between HIV and the condition that presents as AIDS is another. However, rather than conduct our own research into these matters, most people I know certainly, and a consensus of people who seem to believe everything peddled by the media, simply accept what is being printed as being based in conclusive, empirical science and beyond debate. And to question that, as Sven does in his own style, sets one up to be ridiculed or ostracised by those too idle or stupid to seek the option of “informed choice” – i.e. reading what the other side is saying as well then deciding for themselves no matter how unpopular that view may be.
If anyone out there believes that the media in this or any other country for that matter, presents a balanced view of any particular subject whether it be environmental, health-related, fiscal or whatever then I have to confess to living in an alternative reality to the one those people gobbling up the media spin occupy.
Nowhere is the argument for and against any controversial matter given a balanced airing – the generally accepted opinion is presented as the “truth” and anything else, no matter how credible the argument may be, is dismissed as folly or falsehood.
It was not that very long ago that the majority of people inhabiting this spinning blue rock believed to their cores that the planet was flat. To say otherwise was considered heresy and people were burned as witches for promoting such blasphemous talk.
Yet, we all know now that the loony fringe who were saying the Earth was a ball, were actually right on that one. Just like they were right about scurvy and pellagra and swine flu and a myriad other devastatingly sound scientific facts that turned out to be total bullshit.
This was all promoted as unwavering empirical science in the journals of the day – and one of my favourites was the crème-de-la-crème of our academia awarding the Nobel prize to a surgeon named Moniz for drilling holes into people’s crania and destroying portions of their frontal lobes either by injecting alcohol into them or by means of a sharp steel spike – the frontal lobotomy. He was recognised and lauded for his work. And while there are people out there who probably deserve a spike through the noggin, that’s hardly the point is it!
The role of people like Al Gore, who promote a series of “theoretical” data to support a cause and guilt people into changing their lifestyle because we’re “destroying the planet” and causing “sudden and possibly catastrophic climate change” is a cause for concern. Not the alleged global warming issue – no, but why Gore has made it his raison-d’être and I don’t believe for one minute it’s because he wants to be remembered as the guy who made us all aware – bollocks!
I believe that it is more likely to sway the global populace into a way of thinking that prepares us for the introduction of new technology to eventually replace the fossil-fuel driven science of the day and initiate a relatively seamless transition from one to the other while the same moguls who have raped us financially using the old stuff will be the same dudes that continue to screw us with the new stuff. But it has to be managed otherwise the global economy is likely to collapse if we switch to cleaner technology too rapidly. Well, they blew that one as well, folks if anyone has been watching the global marketplace and the fickle house of cards that our most advanced financial minds put in place to manage our money. It isn’t founded on sustainability – it is founded on greed – that’s why we’ve not been using clean, sustainable technology that’s been around for decades, centuries in some cases – because it wasn’t viable (for the good fellows selling it) even if it was viable for the planet. Now, all of a sudden, they care about the planet – puhlease!
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have both sides of the debate (which are entirely theoretical either way) and make up my own mind instead of being made to feel guilty about what I drive, what I eat and what “ my carbon-footprint” is. It’s all theoretical shite.
That’s not to say we shouldn’t be ecologically and environmentally responsible – of course we should, but to promote this in the manner that the media and the politicians do is nothing short of insulting and disingenuous. But we’re an ignorant, lazy species for the most part so why not use that approach – it works!
So if questioning this stuff and researching it further to see what’s really going on catapults me into the realm of the conspiracy-theorist then that’s where I’d rather stay than feed on the drivel that is spewed up at us on an hourly basis in the hope that it will modify collective behaviour in the world.
But the sad thing is – it does.
And it’s not hard to see why.
Monday 9 February 2009
GEORGIE DEBRIS (with apologies to Frank Zappa)
GEORGIE DEBRIS
The Barfko man came over and he said: Let's say goodnight
He said: You're not quite ready but I've about gave up this fight!
If we were ready, willing and loyal to honor his memory
He would shuffle right out of his old mortal coil, be one with the Cozmik Debris
I said Look here, brother - won't you play one last time just for me?
The guitar man got restless and he tweaked out a couple o' licks
He turned up the amp til the stage was alight and he gave it a few hefty kicks
Now I thought I'd heard some good stuff but he played like a demon possessed
And I thought to myself: You're a league on your own. I don't give a shit for the rest!
He said: Look here, Frenchie - just remember what I tried to be.
Look here, Tipper I'll come haunt you with profanity!
I've got visions of my own, he said, so I'll watch from where I go
I'll see GW Monkey Man running his own Jackass Show
"But I've got a famous dad!" he said as he nuked Iraqi folk
So I zapped him with a guitar note and said, "George you're a fucking joke!"
I trussed a band-aid round his head, took the assholes from his eyes
Played some eighties music til I saw he was hypnotised
I changed his mind and policies, I took our freedom back
Said: "The problem's here at home, my friend - it ain't there in Iraq!"
I proceeded to ban all religion then - long as I was running the show
I said: "I just met God and guess what, George - She's black and She's ready to blow!"
He said: Please, please Frankie - don't you tell her what I tried to do...
Don't you know - you could make more money fucking sailors so why's it the voters you're trying to screw?
Sunday 25 January 2009
THE 2009 SOUTH AFRICAN ELECTIONS
Listening to Andy Rice on 702's Ad Feature, he spoke of the upcoming election and the opportunity for political parties to really create something vibrant and special with their BRAND and bring something with a hook to the campaign trail.
Remembering Obama's: YES WE CAN! catchphrase, here's the best our uninspiring political hopefuls could come up with:
ANC: WORKING TOGETHER WE CAN DO MORE
DA: ONE NATION. ONE FUTURE
UDM: NOW'S THE TIME FOR ALL SOUTH AFRICANS
And last but not least:
COPE: A NEW AGENDA FOR CHANGE AND HOPE
People - with all due respect - here's my slogan response to them:
THEY ALL SUCK
These have got to be the least imaginative and uninspiring slogans I have ever heard - the DA probably being the catchiest but that's not saying much.
What about something dynamic like;
COPE: KEEPING IT REAL
or something fast and vibey along those lines?
There is an amazing opportunity for this party to shed the skin of the old, tired political dreariness, again like Obama did - speak to the people. Keep it short. Keep it to the point. Keep it real! We are tired of all the longwinded hyperbole and hollow promises;
And how about COPE's name being part of the campaign thrust as another acronym?:
Clarity - A clear vision for the future
Objectivity - Allowing autonomy in government & NGO organs
Prosperity - A share for us all in SA's growth
Equality - For each gender and every race group
Some sketchy ideas but man oh man - what has been put together is as dull as ditchwater in my humble view!
This is an exciting time - some of that excitement should be engendered within the campaign and spread to the people COPE hope to harness.
Isn't democracy fun...
Wednesday 21 January 2009
BARACK OBAMA - 44th PRESIDENT OF THE USA
Think what you want to but the Yanks do this ceremonial stuff even better than the Brits in my view.
In the dark old days we had that unsavoury alliance of Bush Blair - BB. Now we have the African American and the Scot or could I call them Black and Mac without offending the sensibilities of the Politically Correct analists? Bollocks to them!
And while it is most certainly naive to imagine one leader can turn the world around from its current state of despair in many quarters - war, famine, disease, financial instability, rampant bigotry, racism, ethnic cleansing, (alleged) global warming etc. Barack Obama gives one the impression that he can make that happen. His eloquence and stature, his evangelical conviction and delivery evokes within the listener (American and foreigner alike) the belief that we have truly turned a corner and the world (never mind the US) is on the path to healing.
The cynics (myself among them) would simply say - "anything after Dubya is a step in the right direction..." but Obama is inheriting a minefield from GWB as has been described above with the confidence of US citizens at an all time low. He can work that in his favour of course with his fresh approach (and ability to speak English) but it will only work for so long until he starts to deliver on his promises (or not).
The key to this potential success, in my view, is his consummate ability of including the American people in the effort by acknowledging their true potential every time he speaks and without making it sound like ersatz hyperbole (like most politicians are prone to do).
Maybe I'm just getting more sensitive as I mature (perish the thought!) but every time this dude hits the podium I feel tears welling up in my eyes because I get this feeling that Obama has entered the world stage at a point where the very consciousness of humanity has undergone a significant shift and whether we would like to acknowledge it or not, I believe the GW Bushes of this world actually helped to get us to this point even if it was by trudging down a long, hard, nasty road.
It's that old dark and light thing isn't it - how can we achieve balance if we don't have appropriate / equal proportions of both?
It isn't always the lessons imparted by the shining "leading by example" people of this world - the people of this planet have always (and I mean always) got the choice to learn from any example shown them from a drunken father to a saintly mother - whatever. It's as beneficial to see what we shouldn't be doing as it is to be going down a path behind a saint.
We need to make mistakes (hopefully not fatal ones) to learn and Obama has that concept firmly in hand.
As naive as I may be, this man inspires confidence and that mere fact alone is contagious and brings people together and with confidence comes belief and with belief comes positive action and a lot less guilt and the nett result has the potential to make us more temperate, tolerant and humane.
I like him - VIVA OBAMA
Is it true that his first policy decision will be to petition congress to have the White House painted black?
I can hear the Rolling Stones in the background as we speak!
THE GREAT GLOBAL WARMING SWINDLE DEBATE
As soon as politicians and the media put their collective weight behind a particular viewpoint to the exclusion of any other opinion, is the day that my bullshit barometer kicks in. The whole concept of informed choice and a balanced representation of the two sides of the debate are forgotten and the popular viewpoint becomes the status-quo. This has been true of the issue concerning the correlation between HIV and AIDS where people like Thabo Mbeki and Manto Tshabalala Msimang have been vilified for saying things that don't conform to the accepted view. To such a degree that our erstwhile health minister became nothing more than a cartoon figure without any credibility when, in fact, anyone actually bothering to research the data behind what she claims rather than lampooning the messenger, may be very surprised at what they find - I certainy was.
But by then it was far too late - public opinion had already been swayed to accept everything the mainstream protagonists were saying and denouncing anything that contradicted that. As I said - so much for informed choice. In our country it doesn't exist and coupled with the apathy of much of the public and their innate sloth when it comes to actually conducting their own research in these matters, we are now facing an even greater deception when it comes to the issue of AGW (Anthropogenic Global Warming) where both the media and the political community isn't offering a balanced representation of both sides of this debate. The generally accepted perception is that Global Warming is a reality and it has come about as a result of humanity's activity on the planet and particularly with regard to our emission of so-called greenhouse gases into the atmopshere, the main culprit being Carbon Dioxide. Moreover, our activities in this regard have initiated sudden and potentially catastrophic climate change which threatens the very survival of this species (and others) on planet Earth. All very dramatic but is it true?
Whether we choose to believe it is or not, what irks me beyond reason is the spin being placed on the issue (that clearly suits a specific agenda) that disallows both sides of the debate being given equal representation in our mainstream media.
Whether or not this is to influence our thinking (and again, like religion, it's done through fear and guilt) and steer us away from fossil-fuel based technology in a managed transition to newer, more environmentally friendly energy technology and ensure that such a transition doesn't fatally impair the global economy - isn't the point. I'm all for being ecologically aware and responsible but I would like the opportunity of being able to make up my own mind about the issues and choose a path once I've seen all the available DATA not biased media spin or spurious so-called science. Both sides, please!
But it isn't happening and I believe we should be asking ourselves - Why not?
I urge you to take the time and view the full series of the "SWINDLE" debate on Youtube which makes for very interesting and thought-provoking viewing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIjGynF4qkE&feature=related
PS - Happy 2009 everyone - I'm truly happy really - never been more so xxx
But by then it was far too late - public opinion had already been swayed to accept everything the mainstream protagonists were saying and denouncing anything that contradicted that. As I said - so much for informed choice. In our country it doesn't exist and coupled with the apathy of much of the public and their innate sloth when it comes to actually conducting their own research in these matters, we are now facing an even greater deception when it comes to the issue of AGW (Anthropogenic Global Warming) where both the media and the political community isn't offering a balanced representation of both sides of this debate. The generally accepted perception is that Global Warming is a reality and it has come about as a result of humanity's activity on the planet and particularly with regard to our emission of so-called greenhouse gases into the atmopshere, the main culprit being Carbon Dioxide. Moreover, our activities in this regard have initiated sudden and potentially catastrophic climate change which threatens the very survival of this species (and others) on planet Earth. All very dramatic but is it true?
Whether we choose to believe it is or not, what irks me beyond reason is the spin being placed on the issue (that clearly suits a specific agenda) that disallows both sides of the debate being given equal representation in our mainstream media.
Whether or not this is to influence our thinking (and again, like religion, it's done through fear and guilt) and steer us away from fossil-fuel based technology in a managed transition to newer, more environmentally friendly energy technology and ensure that such a transition doesn't fatally impair the global economy - isn't the point. I'm all for being ecologically aware and responsible but I would like the opportunity of being able to make up my own mind about the issues and choose a path once I've seen all the available DATA not biased media spin or spurious so-called science. Both sides, please!
But it isn't happening and I believe we should be asking ourselves - Why not?
I urge you to take the time and view the full series of the "SWINDLE" debate on Youtube which makes for very interesting and thought-provoking viewing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIjGynF4qkE&feature=related
PS - Happy 2009 everyone - I'm truly happy really - never been more so xxx
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