Awkward turdle – the phrase used in the case of an is extremely awkward situation. To be used with the complementary hand signal.
Arb –alternate. Different. Weird (in a cool way).
Bla – oh so ug.
Blinking – disgustingly annoying, irritating or dysfunctional. Or all that and more.
Bug – potentially irritate the hell out of some poor sorry sod
Chilled – laid back dude. One of those fantabulistic
Daft – an old word nicked form the attic, polished up and reintegrated into the English lingo
Drift – similar to waft. However, not to be confused with waft. General movement of the body in a specifically general direction. Behaviour of movement vaguely resembling that of a log in the sea, carried by the tide to some eventual destination. (Hence: “drift”)
Fantabulistic – not to be confused with its rather dull and common root: “fantastic”. Used in hyperactivity, generally to be avoided when in a dull mood.
Fk – use your imagination. Fill in the blanks.
Freak – can be equated with “oh damn”. An exclamation highlighting the seriously serious badness of a given situation
Freak out - panic
Geeslikes! – The perfect partner for eye-rolling
Hectic – the opposite of chilled.
Indalorious – a Simone invention. You don’t want to know. (That doesn’t mean that THAT is what “indalorious” means, more you just really don’t want to know. Trust me, I’m a doctor)
Indorable – a Simone invention. Basically, waaaay beyond baby cute.
Jump off a cliff – a perceived better pastime than facing exams. Otherwise something that other distinctly annoying individuals are advised to try.
Ja-nee – uhu… “For once in my life I really don’t know which one is the better decision”
Jippo – tweak. “Fix” things in my favour
Kettle-fish! – Ah shit.
Kiff – cool (and no, I’m not talking temperatures)
Lingo – language
Miff(ed) – badly annoyed. Similar to peeved, but stronger.
Nick – To quote Jack Sparrow: I took it with “the full intention of giving it back…” – or not.
Now now – can refer to any length of time, past or present
Peeved – similar to miffed, but more so to mildly pissed off or slightly irritated.
Poppie – a wanna-be Paris Hilton Afrikaans chickie. Thin, squeaky high voice, snazzy clothes died blond hair. Zero grey matter.
Pozzy – a place to crash (not literally) and call home
Sad, Sorry and Pathetic – pretty self-explanatory
Snazzy – smart, posh, stylish, expensive
Snaaz – diminutive of snazzy
Spivvy – another word for snazzy, but less commonly used. Tends to refer less to people and more to their possessions like house or car.
Sod – a Sad, Sorry and Pathetic person.
Tad – a bit
Toppy – old man
Tuttera – the warped version of tutor
Tweak – jippo. Perfect something.
Ug – Yuk.
Vreet – stuff yourself with food, very quickly and with a zero level of table etique
Vry - make out
Wack - out of sync
Waft – similar to drift. However, not to be confused with drift. kinda float around like a random cloud of gaseous stuff. Moving without any real point and purpose. If there is one, then it’s secondary to some greater purpose. Like aimlessness.
Zip – moving a tad faster than
Saturday, October 25, 2008
a quote that needs a story. il put it up for now and then add the story when i find the right one....
"He knows nothing; and he thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career."
on assignment: well that might be your opinion. here's mine
Comment: first-year love isn't always a charade
Hey there Starfish
Ah sex! Hate it or love it, it’s the one thing you’re not going to escape as long as you’re in the company of Rodents! (That, and alcohol.)
The thing about relationships is that the whole point to them is to eventually get down and dirty. I mean, if you are not inevitably looking for a mate, what are you after?
But, that’s not all that they are about, and they certainly are not the “glue” that holds relationships together. If anything, if entered into for the wrong reasons, sex can be the greatest destroyer of relationships. Hence the hurt.
And by the way, pain isn’t only a burden for the feminine heart. Guys hurt too – a lot. Interestingly, and contrary to common belief, I’ve seen guys far more torn up after a relationship, while the X rides off into the sunset with a new victim.
However, even the “good” guys have issues with where their blood is headed to.
As the old saying goes “A guy gives love for sex and a girl gives sex for love.” And it’s a fundamental truth in all romantic relationships.
But that doesn’t mean that above the seething sea of hormonal urges guys aren’t fantastic creatures that really just want some love. So cut them some slack, be aware of the sex issue, and if you don’t want it, make sure he knows it from the word go.
In LIfe and Love,
Good luck
THE MAGICIAN
on assignment: my opinion on a matter close to my heart....
You want my opinion? On any”common belief about first year”?
Hmm… well how about the one thing that I know is plaguing a large majority of JMS1 students: the Journalism department.
“I’m just sooo over journ! I mean, I came to Rhodes to study JMS and now I actually couldn’t care less about getting into journ2!” is a not an uncommon sentiment among students.
But why is this? I came to Rhodes, burning in anticipation of having the freedom to study what I was interested in. And I was not disappointed. Not initially anyway. Rod Amner’s Introduction to News course really got me revved up. I consumed newspapers like never before and even tuned into SAFm. Suddenly the world was opening up; I was studying at the best journalism department in the country and I was going to become a true, hardcore journalist.
But why is this? I came to Rhodes, burning in anticipation of having the freedom to study what I was interested in. And I was not disappointed. Not initially anyway. Rod Amner’s Introduction to News course really got me revved up. I consumed newspapers like never before and even tuned into SAFm. Suddenly the world was opening up; I was studying at the best journalism department in the country and I was going to become a true, hardcore journalist.
Yea right! At the moment, the thought of enduring another three years at a department that seems to think it houses the second coming is not really on the top of my “want to do” list.
Fact is, I'm bored.
Now I know that university in not supposed to be a circus (hmm…), but if it’s not here that we learn the deadline-tight-rope-dance and the ability to draw a bunny out of a hat, where are we supposed to learn? School did help, a little, but not enough to prepare us for the real stage; the “real world”, where there are no dress rehearsals and backup stage hands. As graduates, we are expected to be fully qualified magicians, able to skilfully work at the speed of light, maintaining a practiced balance between work and play. Out there, if you don't have at least one ace up your sleeve, you’re done.
Instead, more than a month into my final JMS1 course, I have five pages of lecture notes. To someone who is accustomed to taking a minimum of three per lecture (jotting down fact helps me remember) this is highly concerning. And threats of being sent to the front row if I quietly voice my irritation does nothing for my optimism for the course. Sure, the concept of blogging is a fantastic one, and I’m generally satisfied with the assignments. But the lectures… now that’s another issue entirely.
A JMS1 student vehemently vehemently states “that all lectures for first year Journalism and Media Studies students should be compulsory”. If that were the case, I think I’d almost willingly lose my DP. What I find even more disconcerting is the fact that I know that I do not speak for only myself. The idea of learning more about journalists and the blogosphere was initially very exciting. But within a week all I felt was irritation. I sat (and still do) in lectures, waiting for the hat trick – for our lecturers to be transformed from the highly patronising – and sometimes seemingly incompetent - into inspiring fellow journalists. They have much to offer, no doubt, but somehow something is lacking.
One of the core concepts that I will take away from my Drama 1 course this year is the idea of always raising the stakes, always pushing the boundaries. I want, no, I need to sit on the edge of my seat, pen in hand ready for the next invaluable point. This simply is not happening.
The “How to start your blog” lecture was almost physically painful. To me, spending an entire lecture going through something that should take any literate person a matter of minutes is a gross waste of time. And letter writing? Definitely helpful – to those still school. 
Most students are paying between R60 – R75 per lecture. In light of this, and my meagre pages of lecture notes, I really don’t feel that I’m getting my money’s worth. I fully support the core concept of the course, but just not how it is being presented.
on assignment:: profile
“It gets better before the end...and if it’s not getting better, it’s not the end.”
It’s nearly the end of Curt’s* first year at varsity, and it is, finally beginning to get better.
This year hasn’t been an easy one for this new Rhodent. He had assumed that that he would quickly establish the life-long bonds that people love claiming one forms at university. But after leaving an incredibly tightly-knit group of high-school friends, nothing measured up. He did make friends, many of them, but no “family”, as he likes to call his close friends.
In the beginning of high school, he might have been described as a first class loser. But he resolved to change, and by matric he was adored by his friends, popular, a budding hockey player, honours student and head boy; the ideal student. Then he came to varsity and things fell apart.
Home has always been a place of conflict, with constant verbal wars being waged between himself and his manic depressive mother. He says that one of his greatest fears is becoming mentally unstable like her. “Am I also going to go crazy?” he ponders. Her illness has resulted in much internal conflict within the family, as well was what Curt considers to be the worst day of his school career.
The night before the prefects were to be announced, his mother and his sister, Kristal, had an argument. In spite, his mother, who had already received a letter informing her of her son’s achievement, forbade Kristel from going to school the next day. Not having the person whom Curt values more than any other at his special day, just ruined it for him completely. He realised then that all his achievements had been an attempt to impress his parents: a childish mother and a father whose conversation rarely extended beyond the issuing of chores. From that day on, he says he was “so over it”, and with his loss of motivation went much of his lust for life. The shining star student began to falter. Fortunately, his amazingly supportive group of six friends stuck by him, giving him the strength to push on.
It was in this despondent state that Curt came to Rhodes, and found himself completely and utterly alone.
“I know that I am a strong, well put-together young man” he says. “But my one fundamental flaw is that I am only that person around my family and friends”. His friends in particular kept him grounded, and without them, he has found staying true to himself impossible. He began cheating regularly on his boyfriend, getting drunk and stoned over and over again. He knew the problem was within himself, having nothing to do with external influences. Despite his many new friends, no one was near enough to dispel the settling gloom and despair that seeped into most every aspect of his life. Despite all its problems, he wanted home.
And so, in September, he finally opened up to his father, confessing that he had had enough and wanted to come home. But, instead of agreeing to this, his father suggested that his mother come down from Johannesburg for a visit. “She’d do that? For me?” Curt says, his lively eyes opening wide. “I couldn’t believe that my Mom would actually come down for a week, just to see me.” And she did. Despite his father’s fears that they might jump at each other’s throats, mother and son bonded as never before. Thanks to her encouragement, Curt now knows that he will have the strength to face next year.
The woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself.
When asked to describe himself, he pauses and picks at the grass absentmindedly. “I'll let u know when I figure that one out, because right now I can’t even explain myself to me, let alone you.” Looking up, he frowns slightly, considering the woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself. Then he adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “But time will change, and one day I will be able to look in the mirror two days in a row and see the same person.”
*name changed
It’s nearly the end of Curt’s* first year at varsity, and it is, finally beginning to get better.
This year hasn’t been an easy one for this new Rhodent. He had assumed that that he would quickly establish the life-long bonds that people love claiming one forms at university. But after leaving an incredibly tightly-knit group of high-school friends, nothing measured up. He did make friends, many of them, but no “family”, as he likes to call his close friends.
In the beginning of high school, he might have been described as a first class loser. But he resolved to change, and by matric he was adored by his friends, popular, a budding hockey player, honours student and head boy; the ideal student. Then he came to varsity and things fell apart.
Home has always been a place of conflict, with constant verbal wars being waged between himself and his manic depressive mother. He says that one of his greatest fears is becoming mentally unstable like her. “Am I also going to go crazy?” he ponders. Her illness has resulted in much internal conflict within the family, as well was what Curt considers to be the worst day of his school career.
The night before the prefects were to be announced, his mother and his sister, Kristal, had an argument. In spite, his mother, who had already received a letter informing her of her son’s achievement, forbade Kristel from going to school the next day. Not having the person whom Curt values more than any other at his special day, just ruined it for him completely. He realised then that all his achievements had been an attempt to impress his parents: a childish mother and a father whose conversation rarely extended beyond the issuing of chores. From that day on, he says he was “so over it”, and with his loss of motivation went much of his lust for life. The shining star student began to falter. Fortunately, his amazingly supportive group of six friends stuck by him, giving him the strength to push on.
It was in this despondent state that Curt came to Rhodes, and found himself completely and utterly alone.
“I know that I am a strong, well put-together young man” he says. “But my one fundamental flaw is that I am only that person around my family and friends”. His friends in particular kept him grounded, and without them, he has found staying true to himself impossible. He began cheating regularly on his boyfriend, getting drunk and stoned over and over again. He knew the problem was within himself, having nothing to do with external influences. Despite his many new friends, no one was near enough to dispel the settling gloom and despair that seeped into most every aspect of his life. Despite all its problems, he wanted home.
And so, in September, he finally opened up to his father, confessing that he had had enough and wanted to come home. But, instead of agreeing to this, his father suggested that his mother come down from Johannesburg for a visit. “She’d do that? For me?” Curt says, his lively eyes opening wide. “I couldn’t believe that my Mom would actually come down for a week, just to see me.” And she did. Despite his father’s fears that they might jump at each other’s throats, mother and son bonded as never before. Thanks to her encouragement, Curt now knows that he will have the strength to face next year.
The woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself.
When asked to describe himself, he pauses and picks at the grass absentmindedly. “I'll let u know when I figure that one out, because right now I can’t even explain myself to me, let alone you.” Looking up, he frowns slightly, considering the woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself. Then he adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “But time will change, and one day I will be able to look in the mirror two days in a row and see the same person.”
*name changed
on assignment: a letter to my younger self
Dear Little Newbie
So, I hear that you’ve decided to take the great leap into the unknown chasm otherwise known as varsity. You must be expecting a whole new world equally overstocked with surprises and horrors. And well you should.Many people refer to university as a time of transition; a time of change and self discovery. What they don’t tell you is that it is also a time of great fear, pretence, intense loneliness and, once the novelty of freedom has worn off, acute homesickness. Ten to one, you will battle with the abhorrent feelings of anonymity and isolation – even despite having good friends.
What makes everything even worse is that when you look around you, everyone seems to be doing just fine. Yea right! Behind all those exuberant facades lie hurt, anger and fear. The worst part is that most people maintain these fake smiles so effectively that everyone else thinks they are alone in their suffering. But don’t be fooled. If you think you’re the only one battling with homesickness, think again. Behind the latched doors of their res rooms, countless new students release the tide of tears they feel they should be too old to shed.
In first year, I had the privilege of having the sweetest girl as a next door neighbor in res. Although we didn’t communicate too often, I enjoyed her company. She was such a sweet and friendly person, and when homesickness really started getting me depressed in the second term, she was very supportive. She said she knew what it meant to be depressed, to feel completely and utterly alone. But it simply didn’t seem possible that someone with such a positive demeanor could understand.
Two months later I walked into her room expecting the usual hearty hug and chat. Instead she was sitting with pills all over her dresser, trying to steady her hand enough to take them.
So expect parties, best friends and probably the best days of your life. But also be prepared for great trial.
Ever truthfully,
The New Old-timer
"Oh What Tangled Webs We Weave, When First We Practice To Decieve..."
Two girls on my corridor in res are leaving Rhodes next year. Both of them were putting off telling their friends for fear of their reactions. One was scared that friends would be angry with her for leaving but the other was concerned that nobody would care. Her friends would go about their daily lives not giving a second though to the fact that when they returned for their second year of study she would not be there to greet them.
But back to the matter at hand, both girls successfully hid their secret for three full weeks, before deciding to take the plunge and divulge. Deceit became second nature. We had residence application forms to fill in for next year. When asked if they had yet handed them in, they simply replied that they had indeed, and that the reciept was somewhere in their bedrooms.
When asked which res room they wanted for next year, they replied that they were perfectly content in the rooms that they currently had.
When asked what subjects they were taking next year, they gave they answer which would have been true if they had been staying.
And finally, when confronted with the Big Question "Are you coming back next year?", both were able to look their best friends in the eye and say "yes".
But when they finally did confess, the tangled web which they had weaved come back to haunt them. "Why did you lie to me?", "Why didn't you tell me this before?", and just plain "Why?", were heard along with the gasps of shock.
But life goes on, two minutes later, everyone had gone back to their lives, wondering what was for lunch the next day, what was new on DC, and other mundane things...
But back to the matter at hand, both girls successfully hid their secret for three full weeks, before deciding to take the plunge and divulge. Deceit became second nature. We had residence application forms to fill in for next year. When asked if they had yet handed them in, they simply replied that they had indeed, and that the reciept was somewhere in their bedrooms.
When asked which res room they wanted for next year, they replied that they were perfectly content in the rooms that they currently had.
When asked what subjects they were taking next year, they gave they answer which would have been true if they had been staying.
And finally, when confronted with the Big Question "Are you coming back next year?", both were able to look their best friends in the eye and say "yes".
But when they finally did confess, the tangled web which they had weaved come back to haunt them. "Why did you lie to me?", "Why didn't you tell me this before?", and just plain "Why?", were heard along with the gasps of shock.
But life goes on, two minutes later, everyone had gone back to their lives, wondering what was for lunch the next day, what was new on DC, and other mundane things...
Friday, October 24, 2008
The "Other" South Africans
We've all been on a holiday at the seaside. The feel of the warm summer sun on our backs, the texture of the sand beneath our feet and the coolness of the waves on our toes have always been something to look forward to. Some of us, however, take the phrase "dis leeker by die see" to the extreme.
I have a holiday home in East London, and like to consider myself an East London local, rather than a "vaalie" as other people from my hometown are often reffered to. One of the reasons I like to pretnd I am a local is to be spared the embarrassment that comes from being associated with the habits of some people from up country. Why, for instance, do they feel the need to drag chairs, umbrella's and occasionally tents to the beach? Local are perfeclty satisfied with a towel, a pair of slops and perhaps some change with which to buy an ice cream. They also do not think to check when the next high tide will be before setting all this stuff up well below the high water mark. At least it is entertaining to see them screaming and running into the water to try and find their possessions which have been washed away while they were tanning. And than there are the patterns of sunburn which cause a person to wonder exactly what they wore to the beach that day.
Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but I am quite sure that there are shopping malls in Joburg, and they are not some strange inventions created by the coastal locals. But from observing these strange people who come on holiday, you would think that they had been deprived of shopping their entire lives. Local shopping centers are simply flooded during holiday season, to the extent where it is impossible for locals to do their daily shopping.
After years of careful observation, I have concluded that these people are simply another species all together!
I have a holiday home in East London, and like to consider myself an East London local, rather than a "vaalie" as other people from my hometown are often reffered to. One of the reasons I like to pretnd I am a local is to be spared the embarrassment that comes from being associated with the habits of some people from up country. Why, for instance, do they feel the need to drag chairs, umbrella's and occasionally tents to the beach? Local are perfeclty satisfied with a towel, a pair of slops and perhaps some change with which to buy an ice cream. They also do not think to check when the next high tide will be before setting all this stuff up well below the high water mark. At least it is entertaining to see them screaming and running into the water to try and find their possessions which have been washed away while they were tanning. And than there are the patterns of sunburn which cause a person to wonder exactly what they wore to the beach that day.
Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but I am quite sure that there are shopping malls in Joburg, and they are not some strange inventions created by the coastal locals. But from observing these strange people who come on holiday, you would think that they had been deprived of shopping their entire lives. Local shopping centers are simply flooded during holiday season, to the extent where it is impossible for locals to do their daily shopping.
After years of careful observation, I have concluded that these people are simply another species all together!
lets see it all together:
a blog. a comment and a comment on a comment. here goes:
The debate on the viability of (Rhodes) university lectures:
You say “we are here to pass, especially as first years”. Rubbish! To get accepted into Journalism II, we need at least 65% at the end of the year to even be considered a spot. Just a pass will not suffice.
R75 a lecture? If that money was coming out of your pocket I’m pretty sure you’d reconsider missing all those psych lectures. It’s your parent’s money that you are throwing under your shoe and on which you’re stomping, not yours.
As for me, I’ve got a dawny tomorrow so I’m going to get some shut-eye. I hope you reconsider and attend your last week of lectures in First Year.sdfdsf
Well that's no fun! so here's what yours truly had to say....
The Magician said...
The debate on the viability of (Rhodes) university lectures:
Who Needs Lectures?
It is Monday night, and I have an important law test tomorrow, but I am stressing because I haven't had a chance to study for it today. I woke up at 7, ready to turn a new leaf and actually go to my psychology lecture, only to fall asleep because the monotonous tone of the lecturer is too great to cope. Next is sociology, and the lecturer reads from the slides, believe it or not something I am more than capable of doing, and she brings up the occasional 'valuable' points that I can figure out for myself anyway. Next is journalism, a lecture dedicated to the assignment we have to do the next day. I would much rather just get it done in good time than listen amongst the rubble of noise about something once again, already on the slides. At the end of the day, it leaves me wondering, why did I choose this over studying for what really counts?
We pay R75 a lecture. When you look at it that way, you would think that missing a lecture would be unthinkable. But the reality is, missing lectures really isn't the end of the world. In fact, going to lectures is often a waste of time, when you could be completing an assignment or studying for a test in the precious hours that you have.
I did a bit of research on the importance of attending lectures, but what I found was a quote saying "a lot of students do this (miss lectures) and just study a lot before the exam and end up with 80%, moderate grades." Moderate grades? I couldn't be happier if I got 80% for all my grades. For the last psychology module, I did crack a first for the test, without attending a single lecture. So why should I bother going to lectures if I can get respectable grades? Some students want to excel in their academics, but after all, we are here to pass, especially as first years. Another site I found talks about all the steps one should take before, during and after lectures. Is it really necessary to "evaluate the lecturers style" and "listen for intonation to know when ideas have been completed?" I know that if I tried to do that, I would have too much on my mind to focus on what really matters, the tests, assignments and then exams. You can participate and take down as much notes as you want, but if you don't complete your assignments or pass your exams, you get thrown out of the university. Simple as that.
In fairness to lectures, if you pay full attention, and take down a lot of notes, you are more likely to have a greater capacity to perform in tests and assignments. But with all the other issues going on in one's life, including that 2000 word assignment that is due for midnight on that very day, it is a lot to ask of oneself. Missing lectures can affect your conscience, leaving you pondering on whether you missed out on something important, and whether your friends who did go, are a step ahead of you. I can't speak on behalf of everyone, but I've found that more times than not, I haven't missed out on anything. The typical response to me asking "How was the lecture?" is "Ah, same old same old. Boring and pointless."
On the day of the law test, I decided to miss all my lectures. Luckily, the test was only at 7 that night, leaving me with ample time to study during the day. I studied effectively, and felt calm and ready for the once dreaded occasion. After the test, I asked my friend how he did. "I struggled hey, I didn't study hard enough." "How were your lectures today?" I asked him, knowing that he was a regular attender. Boring, fell asleep and useless were words I picked up in his response. And how did I do in that test? Watch this space.
Dude, I couldn't agree with you more. Evidently though, not everyone else did...
here's the reply that was posted:
You are part of the select few at Rhodes who can write tests and do assignments without attending lectures and still receive good marks. There are, however, roughly 6300 students at Rhodes of which I say about 300 are capable of doing what you do. For the rest of us, we have to attend lectures because we need that little bit of extra material to base our studies on.
You say “we are here to pass, especially as first years”. Rubbish! To get accepted into Journalism II, we need at least 65% at the end of the year to even be considered a spot. Just a pass will not suffice.
R75 a lecture? If that money was coming out of your pocket I’m pretty sure you’d reconsider missing all those psych lectures. It’s your parent’s money that you are throwing under your shoe and on which you’re stomping, not yours.
As for me, I’ve got a dawny tomorrow so I’m going to get some shut-eye. I hope you reconsider and attend your last week of lectures in First Year.sdfdsf
Well that's no fun! so here's what yours truly had to say....
The Magician said...
It would be interesting to know just how many students could ace their exams with minimal lecture attendance. Personally, I dutifully attend as many lectures as I possibly can. The results, however, have proven to be, for me at any rate, to be just like high school: self study is the way. Lectures are vital for orientating oneself and keeping track of what's going on. But beyond that... little more than a loyal waste of time.
Good luck,
hope you took plenty of useful notes.
the magician
http://www.bethecurtainfalls.blogspot.com
enrich your mind with these succulent tit-bits
Thou bawdy beetle-headed barnacle!
Thou artless pottle-deep jolt-head!
[Thou] stale old mouse eaten dry cheese!
If thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.
Taken from: Hamlet
Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world.
Taken from: Pericles
Thou fobbing idle-headed strumpet!
Assume a virtue if you have it not.
Taken from: Hamlet
succulent
Thou wimpled elf-skinned nut-hook!
oh, but THIS one... this one is a classic:
Thou artless pottle-deep jolt-head!
[Thou] stale old mouse eaten dry cheese!
If thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.
Taken from: Hamlet
Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world.
Taken from: Pericles
Thou fobbing idle-headed strumpet!
Assume a virtue if you have it not.
Taken from: Hamlet
succulent
Thou wimpled elf-skinned nut-hook!
oh, but THIS one... this one is a classic:
About the only worthwhile thing you can learn from a bore is how truly golden silence can be.
-O. A. Battista
for more fantastic quotes to tickle your fancy, hit http://www.pangloss.com/index.html
for more fantastic quotes to tickle your fancy, hit http://www.pangloss.com/index.html
what education sometimes unwittingly makes me feel like saying...
O teach me how I should forget to think.
the latest in quirky quotes from the Shakespearean insulter
some thoughts, beginning in frustration, ending much the same
still feelin pretty miffed about the phone call from earlier this eve. sucks ass.
i mean, am i being over sensitive? probably ya. childish, probably. but come one! i cant help wondering how he'd have help had i called him a "boertjie" (he's so darn Afrikaans at times, he might just brim with pride) or how about a "dutchman" then. no, better still... rock spider. i know that one has a whole history behind why the English use that as a yuk name for the Afr, but i cant remember it.
"rock spider" has just reminded me about stephen. amazing how thoughts can drift. i miss him. "Stoof" was like my big brother. oh i loved him dearly. and i miss him. wish things hadnt fallen apart as they did. but he changed. we all did towards the end of matric. and the change wasn't a good one. poisoned by the twin's bitterness towards Sasol high. i still wonder why they were there if all they ever had to say about the place was negative shit. oh they sucked. but were good friends. to an extent, dont want to think what they said about me bahind my back.
oh, back to work....
another sterling example of our sterling democracy
According to News 24, the well-known crim-investigation unit, the Scorpions, have finally reached the end of their road:
"Cape Town - The Scorpions have reached the end of the road after the National Assembly approved new legislation on Thursday to disband the investigating unit and incorporate it into the police service."
the ANC won the vote by a wopping 252 to 63.
I imagine that they must be feeling that must be the proof of a democratic vote. but is it?
I think not. while the ANC has been zealously pushing for the disbandment of the Scorpions for a long time now, they have ignored what the rest of the country has to say.
The ANC seems to be of the opion that they are the supreme power in the country; that they are untoutcable and somehow above everyone. But explain this to me. how can you be both servant and dictator?
true leadership is synonnumous with serving.
if the ANC was aware of this, or rather, if they cared about t
his, then they wouldnt have snuffed the notorious scorpions. but no. the powers that be dont like the idea of haveing thier dirty dealings exposed, instead opting to have them incorporated into the SAPS. haha, like thats going to help! i mean, if chief of police is about as corrupt as they come...ooo dear....
ooo the memories... lets hope not...
... what i mean is, i hope that theyre not going to become just memories. id like them to continue being part of my present.
its playing again. the song. as soppy as it is, last Christmas i made Anthony a tape with songs on it (duh). anyway, they were songs that said something specific that i wanted to say or express to him. this song was one of them:
"You Found Me" by Kelly Clarkson
Is this a dream?
If it is
Please don't wake me from this high
I'd become comfortably numb
Until you opened up my eyes
To what it's like
When everything's right
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
So, here we are
That's pretty far
When you think of where we've been
No going back
I'm fading out
All that has faded me within
You're by my side
Now everything's fine
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
And I was hiding
'Til you came along
And showed me where I belong
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know?
How did you know?
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
(You found me)
(When no one else was lookin')
You found me
(How did you know just where I would be?)
You broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
The good and the bad
And the things in between
You found me
You found me
its playing again. the song. as soppy as it is, last Christmas i made Anthony a tape with songs on it (duh). anyway, they were songs that said something specific that i wanted to say or express to him. this song was one of them:
"You Found Me" by Kelly Clarkson
Is this a dream?
If it is
Please don't wake me from this high
I'd become comfortably numb
Until you opened up my eyes
To what it's like
When everything's right
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
So, here we are
That's pretty far
When you think of where we've been
No going back
I'm fading out
All that has faded me within
You're by my side
Now everything's fine
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
And I was hiding
'Til you came along
And showed me where I belong
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know?
How did you know?
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
(You found me)
(When no one else was lookin')
You found me
(How did you know just where I would be?)
You broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
The good and the bad
And the things in between
You found me
You found me
THE IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY
“It gets better before the end...and if it’s not getting better, it’s not the end.”
It’s nearly the end of Curt’s* first year at varsity, and it is, finally beginning to get better.
This year hasn’t been an easy one for this new Rhodent. He had assumed that that he would quickly establish the life-long bonds that people love claiming one forms at university. But after leaving an incredibly tightly-knit group of high-school friends, nothing measured up. He did make friends, many of them, but no “family”, as he likes to call his close friends.
In the beginning of high school, he might have been described as a first class loser. But he resolved to change, and by matric he was adored by his friends, popular, a budding hockey player, honours student and head boy; the ideal student. Then he came to varsity and things fell apart.
Home has always been a place of conflict, with constant verbal wars being waged between himself and his manic depressive mother. He says that one of his greatest fears is becoming mentally unstable like her. “Am I also going to go crazy?” he ponders. Her illness has resulted in much internal conflict within the family, as well was what Curt considers to be the worst day of his school career.
The night before the prefects were to be announced, his mother and his sister, Kristal, had an argument. In spite, his mother, who had already received a letter informing her of her son’s achievement, forbade Kristel from going to school the next day. Not having the person whom Curt values more than any other at his special day, just ruined it for him completely. He realised then that all his achievements had been an attempt to impress his parents: a childish mother and a father whose conversation rarely extended beyond the issuing of chores. From that day on, he says he was “so over it”, and with his loss of motivation went much of his lust for life. The shining star student began to falter. Fortunately, his amazingly supportive group of six friends stuck by him, giving him the strength to push on.
It was in this despondent state that Curt came to Rhodes, and found himself completely and utterly alone.
“I know that I am a strong, well put-together young man” he says. “But my one fundamental flaw is that I am only that person around my family and friends”. His friends in particular kept him grounded, and without them, he has found staying true to himself impossible. He began cheating regularly on his boyfriend, getting drunk and stoned over and over again. He knew the problem was within himself, having nothing to do with external influences. Despite his many new friends, no one was near enough to dispel the settling gloom and despair that seeped into most every aspect of his life. Despite all its problems, he wanted home.
And so, in September, he finally opened up to his father, confessing that he had had enough and wanted to come home. But, instead of agreeing to this, his father suggested that his mother come down from Johannesburg for a visit. “She’d do that? For me?” Curt says, his lively eyes opening wide. “I couldn’t believe that my Mom would actually come down for a week, just to see me.” And she did. Despite his father’s fears that they might jump at each other’s throats, mother and son bonded as never before. Thanks to her encouragement, Curt now knows that he will have the strength to face next year.
The woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself.
When asked to describe himself, he pauses and picks at the grass absentmindedly. “I'll let u know when I figure that one out, because right now I can’t even explain myself to me, let alone you.” Looking up, he frowns slightly, considering the woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself. Then he adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “But time will change, and one day I will be able to look in the mirror two days in a row and see the same person.”
*name changed
It’s nearly the end of Curt’s* first year at varsity, and it is, finally beginning to get better.
This year hasn’t been an easy one for this new Rhodent. He had assumed that that he would quickly establish the life-long bonds that people love claiming one forms at university. But after leaving an incredibly tightly-knit group of high-school friends, nothing measured up. He did make friends, many of them, but no “family”, as he likes to call his close friends.
In the beginning of high school, he might have been described as a first class loser. But he resolved to change, and by matric he was adored by his friends, popular, a budding hockey player, honours student and head boy; the ideal student. Then he came to varsity and things fell apart.
Home has always been a place of conflict, with constant verbal wars being waged between himself and his manic depressive mother. He says that one of his greatest fears is becoming mentally unstable like her. “Am I also going to go crazy?” he ponders. Her illness has resulted in much internal conflict within the family, as well was what Curt considers to be the worst day of his school career.
The night before the prefects were to be announced, his mother and his sister, Kristal, had an argument. In spite, his mother, who had already received a letter informing her of her son’s achievement, forbade Kristel from going to school the next day. Not having the person whom Curt values more than any other at his special day, just ruined it for him completely. He realised then that all his achievements had been an attempt to impress his parents: a childish mother and a father whose conversation rarely extended beyond the issuing of chores. From that day on, he says he was “so over it”, and with his loss of motivation went much of his lust for life. The shining star student began to falter. Fortunately, his amazingly supportive group of six friends stuck by him, giving him the strength to push on.
It was in this despondent state that Curt came to Rhodes, and found himself completely and utterly alone.
“I know that I am a strong, well put-together young man” he says. “But my one fundamental flaw is that I am only that person around my family and friends”. His friends in particular kept him grounded, and without them, he has found staying true to himself impossible. He began cheating regularly on his boyfriend, getting drunk and stoned over and over again. He knew the problem was within himself, having nothing to do with external influences. Despite his many new friends, no one was near enough to dispel the settling gloom and despair that seeped into most every aspect of his life. Despite all its problems, he wanted home.
And so, in September, he finally opened up to his father, confessing that he had had enough and wanted to come home. But, instead of agreeing to this, his father suggested that his mother come down from Johannesburg for a visit. “She’d do that? For me?” Curt says, his lively eyes opening wide. “I couldn’t believe that my Mom would actually come down for a week, just to see me.” And she did. Despite his father’s fears that they might jump at each other’s throats, mother and son bonded as never before. Thanks to her encouragement, Curt now knows that he will have the strength to face next year.
The woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself.
When asked to describe himself, he pauses and picks at the grass absentmindedly. “I'll let u know when I figure that one out, because right now I can’t even explain myself to me, let alone you.” Looking up, he frowns slightly, considering the woman responsible for the worst day in his school career has now become a role model, saving him from himself. Then he adds, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “But time will change, and one day I will be able to look in the mirror two days in a row and see the same person.”
*name changed
First-year love isnt always a charade
Hey there Starfish
Ah sex! Hate it or love it, it’s the one thing you’re not going to escape as long as you’re in the company of Rodents! (That, and alcohol.)
The thing about relationships is that the whole point to them is to eventually get down and dirty. I mean, if you are not inevitably looking for a mate, what are you after?
But, that’s not all that they are about, and they certainly are not the “glue” that holds relationships together. If anything, if entered into for the wrong reasons, sex can be the greatest destroyer of relationships. Hence the hurt.
And by the way, pain isn’t only a burden for the feminine heart. Guys hurt too – a lot. Interestingly, and contrary to common belief, I’ve seen guys far more torn up after a relationship, while the X rides off into the sunset with a new victim.
However, even the “good” guys have issues with where their blood is headed to.
As the old saying goes “A guy gives love for sex and a girl gives sex for love.” And it’s a fundamental truth in all romantic relationships.
But that doesn’t mean that above the seething sea of hormonal urges guys aren’t fantastic creatures that really just want some love. So cut them some slack, be aware of the sex issue, and if you don’t want it, make sure he knows it from the word go.
In LIfe and Love,
Good luck
THE MAGICIAN
Ah sex! Hate it or love it, it’s the one thing you’re not going to escape as long as you’re in the company of Rodents! (That, and alcohol.)
The thing about relationships is that the whole point to them is to eventually get down and dirty. I mean, if you are not inevitably looking for a mate, what are you after?
But, that’s not all that they are about, and they certainly are not the “glue” that holds relationships together. If anything, if entered into for the wrong reasons, sex can be the greatest destroyer of relationships. Hence the hurt.
And by the way, pain isn’t only a burden for the feminine heart. Guys hurt too – a lot. Interestingly, and contrary to common belief, I’ve seen guys far more torn up after a relationship, while the X rides off into the sunset with a new victim.
However, even the “good” guys have issues with where their blood is headed to.
As the old saying goes “A guy gives love for sex and a girl gives sex for love.” And it’s a fundamental truth in all romantic relationships.
But that doesn’t mean that above the seething sea of hormonal urges guys aren’t fantastic creatures that really just want some love. So cut them some slack, be aware of the sex issue, and if you don’t want it, make sure he knows it from the word go.
In LIfe and Love,
Good luck
THE MAGICIAN
A brief glossary on “South Africanisms”
A guide to South African English: Afrikaans words incorporated into daily language
Nee - no
Dankie – thanks
Lappie – small piece of cloth (face cloth, wash cloth: wash “lappie”)
Nee - no
Dankie – thanks
Lappie – small piece of cloth (face cloth, wash cloth: wash “lappie”)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
feeding the Ego, part 1
Uuug. The joys about pear-shaped phone conversations! Just had ANOTHER one with (what should be) my better half. Thing is, I once heard (or I might have thought of this myself…) one of the fundamental rules of being the gal in a relationship is simply keeping his ego well-fed. When one thinks about this, it’s really pretty true. Big ego = a happy chappy. Women have proven time and again that you can get a guy to do almost anything if he thinks it makes him bigger and better. Kinda like a big, half wild dog: keep its belly full and it happy and it’s your loyal “best friend”. But abuse it in anyway and that’s it; you’re gonna be turned on, and that’s it; you’re gonna be turned on, and you will be the next meal to fill its belly and satisfy it.
If you want to, feel free to refute this. But it’s true.
There are two fundamental behavioral rules that should always be followed if one wishes to keep the beast happy:
1) Act (with “act” being the operative word) like the cute, innocent, little angel-eyed girl who needs a hero.
2) Never ever tease him, as this violates the unspoken law of physically abusing his ego. Its pretty much inline with the law that forbids a guy from informing his gal that her bum is big (which, when we come right down to it, means that he aint getting any. So of course it’s a law he never wants to violate).
If you want to, feel free to refute this. But it’s true.
There are two fundamental behavioral rules that should always be followed if one wishes to keep the beast happy:
1) Act (with “act” being the operative word) like the cute, innocent, little angel-eyed girl who needs a hero.
2) Never ever tease him, as this violates the unspoken law of physically abusing his ego. Its pretty much inline with the law that forbids a guy from informing his gal that her bum is big (which, when we come right down to it, means that he aint getting any. So of course it’s a law he never wants to violate).
feeing the Ego, part 2
Unspoken relationshipial law: never insult your man’s ego. Aka, never tease him, or put down something that he cares about.
Men, when aware of the complementary laws (don’t tell her she’s fat!) tend to be very careful to adhere to them. The reason? The last thing a man wants his lady being the moer in with him, cos then he’s not gonna get his serving of cookie.
Women, more specifically girls, tend to find our laws that little bit harder to follow simply because we don’t have a second head reminding the first when we are crossing the line.
As a result of this, I know that I personally tend to have issues with the whole not teasing idea. I mean, it’s just such fun. It really really is. I can’t help being amused by his obsession with formula 1 car. And the fanatical passion of rugby… lets not even go there. At least when he gives me the stats on every new car we see on the highway I can listen with a vague interest, and pc games are something I can relate to. But, come on, p-leese! In all honesty, I share none of his passions (I suppose I should envy him; I have no passions to speak of).
Men, when aware of the complementary laws (don’t tell her she’s fat!) tend to be very careful to adhere to them. The reason? The last thing a man wants his lady being the moer in with him, cos then he’s not gonna get his serving of cookie.
Women, more specifically girls, tend to find our laws that little bit harder to follow simply because we don’t have a second head reminding the first when we are crossing the line.
As a result of this, I know that I personally tend to have issues with the whole not teasing idea. I mean, it’s just such fun. It really really is. I can’t help being amused by his obsession with formula 1 car. And the fanatical passion of rugby… lets not even go there. At least when he gives me the stats on every new car we see on the highway I can listen with a vague interest, and pc games are something I can relate to. But, come on, p-leese! In all honesty, I share none of his passions (I suppose I should envy him; I have no passions to speak of).
feeding the Ego, part 3
So, I do what id do to any friend: tease. Which should be fine. Should be. But this is messing with the all important Ego. Ooo….
Did it again tonight. He acted all miffed with me. I actually said that I has no idea if he was really miffed with me or just playing along (I was only kidding, but he took it so damn seriously.)
It all started when he said that they were going to be having a big braai on Saturday night after watching the rugby game. A spit braai. “Do you even know what that is?” he asks. Um... duh! I want born yesterday. Besides, I pretty much know my home language (English) far better than any freakkin’ Dutchman could. Told him that’s it a fire (usually over a drum cut open along it’s side) with a pole (spit) over it that u put the meat on and then u rotate it slowly so that the meat cooks evenly.
“Wow, u soutjies are gewax he?” now, had the roles been reversed, I would have gotten really pissed by being called that (soutjie, or soutpiel: a derogatory Afrikaans nickname for English South Africans. Basically refers to the English man having one foot in Britain and one in S.A. and his dick – “piel” – hanging in the sea; it has salt – “sout” –on it). On principal I don’t like being called that. I am just as South African as and bloody Afrikaner. But they tend to have this thing about them, as though they are better. Pisses me off.
Did it again tonight. He acted all miffed with me. I actually said that I has no idea if he was really miffed with me or just playing along (I was only kidding, but he took it so damn seriously.)
It all started when he said that they were going to be having a big braai on Saturday night after watching the rugby game. A spit braai. “Do you even know what that is?” he asks. Um... duh! I want born yesterday. Besides, I pretty much know my home language (English) far better than any freakkin’ Dutchman could. Told him that’s it a fire (usually over a drum cut open along it’s side) with a pole (spit) over it that u put the meat on and then u rotate it slowly so that the meat cooks evenly.
“Wow, u soutjies are gewax he?” now, had the roles been reversed, I would have gotten really pissed by being called that (soutjie, or soutpiel: a derogatory Afrikaans nickname for English South Africans. Basically refers to the English man having one foot in Britain and one in S.A. and his dick – “piel” – hanging in the sea; it has salt – “sout” –on it). On principal I don’t like being called that. I am just as South African as and bloody Afrikaner. But they tend to have this thing about them, as though they are better. Pisses me off.
feeding the Ego, part 4
Back to the conversation. I didn’t say anything, (although I'm seriously tempted to send an sms about it.) To counter, I smart-commented back what happens if they lose.
Then IT started. What began as me just kiddin about the fact that his team might lose (seriously, what the hell do I know? Its fun to watch, but I really don’t give a damn about who wins) quickly devolved into me never supporting him. I put down his formula 1 (come on! Its just hunn-hunn-huunnnnn, flat little cars going round and round and round and round and round and round….. And the guys are so good you don’t even get to have fun seeing them stuff-up. Nee dankie!)
He then said that he now knows what my true colors are and that he now knows that he can’t count on me: I won’t stand by my “man”. (By the way, this whole “man” thing is a new thing. It’s quite funny actually, although I doubt he’d think so. Like the other night, when I was saying his voice sounds so cute on the phone, he said doesn’t it sound manly. Uhum… Ok, so he does have a nice deep voice that is I was somebody else id probably call highly sexy, only I don’t really give myself to that kind of talk. Suppose I’m just a stiff after all. Tonight there was another “man” thing when I said something on mxit that he didn’t quite get, so he asked: “so what’s that supposed to mean to a normal white man” dude, I dunno hey. Maybe the fact he’s over a year younger than me is what’s giving me the issues. Haha, I’m no where near even wanting to be called a woman, so I’m sure as hell not gonna call him a man. Flip!)
Then IT started. What began as me just kiddin about the fact that his team might lose (seriously, what the hell do I know? Its fun to watch, but I really don’t give a damn about who wins) quickly devolved into me never supporting him. I put down his formula 1 (come on! Its just hunn-hunn-huunnnnn, flat little cars going round and round and round and round and round and round….. And the guys are so good you don’t even get to have fun seeing them stuff-up. Nee dankie!)
He then said that he now knows what my true colors are and that he now knows that he can’t count on me: I won’t stand by my “man”. (By the way, this whole “man” thing is a new thing. It’s quite funny actually, although I doubt he’d think so. Like the other night, when I was saying his voice sounds so cute on the phone, he said doesn’t it sound manly. Uhum… Ok, so he does have a nice deep voice that is I was somebody else id probably call highly sexy, only I don’t really give myself to that kind of talk. Suppose I’m just a stiff after all. Tonight there was another “man” thing when I said something on mxit that he didn’t quite get, so he asked: “so what’s that supposed to mean to a normal white man” dude, I dunno hey. Maybe the fact he’s over a year younger than me is what’s giving me the issues. Haha, I’m no where near even wanting to be called a woman, so I’m sure as hell not gonna call him a man. Flip!)
keep feedin the Ego, part 5
It’s all a very sad, sorry, pathetic set of affairs.
Gees likes, I really am pretty annoyed by the whole soutjie thing. Actually wanna say something. Apologize for not “supporting” him (if he doesn’t know that I was just being silly when I went on about just trying to prepare him for the worst, then I dunno hey. I see them issues on the horizon. Think I see them in the tree up ahead too.)
Of course, one of the things staying my hand is the thought of being the stereotypical gal who harps on things. On the other side, there’s the surprise in my X-boyfriend’s voice “wow. But you never apologise!” eish!
I think I am going to send something. But it can’t be too bad. I mean, tonight is his matric farewell night (he didn’t go, but he is gonna be at the after party) and I don’t wanna spoil it. I would like for teasing the things that he holds dear to his heart, but I know it’s a promise too likely to be broken; teasing is just too much fun, wrong as it is.
Suppose I should just remember the Ego.
In all things, remember the Ego.
Gees likes, I really am pretty annoyed by the whole soutjie thing. Actually wanna say something. Apologize for not “supporting” him (if he doesn’t know that I was just being silly when I went on about just trying to prepare him for the worst, then I dunno hey. I see them issues on the horizon. Think I see them in the tree up ahead too.)
Of course, one of the things staying my hand is the thought of being the stereotypical gal who harps on things. On the other side, there’s the surprise in my X-boyfriend’s voice “wow. But you never apologise!” eish!
I think I am going to send something. But it can’t be too bad. I mean, tonight is his matric farewell night (he didn’t go, but he is gonna be at the after party) and I don’t wanna spoil it. I would like for teasing the things that he holds dear to his heart, but I know it’s a promise too likely to be broken; teasing is just too much fun, wrong as it is.
Suppose I should just remember the Ego.
In all things, remember the Ego.
You, Me and Germinating Peas
I am a good student. I do not often skip my lectures, nor do I make a habit of attending lectures for subjests which I do not take. Once, however, I was struck by an irresistable urge to attend a BSc lecture. Ok, maybe I was just too lazy to move my butt out of chem major after Psycology. I learned two things during this lecture:
1) Contrary to the belief of most BA students, BSc is not simply the easy way out for people who do not want to have to write essays.
2) A journ student can find inspiration for a good piece of creative writing anywhere...even in a lecture about respiration and photosynthesis.
The proffessor was talking about the afternoon's practical class. I, of course, was not listening, but rather doodling on the side of my friend's (who really does do BSc) notes, much to her annoyance. Suddenly, one of Prof's mundane sentances struck a chord in my mind. "Everything respires," he was saying, "things like you, me, and germinating peas."
You, Me and Germinating Peas. What an interesting name for a semi-biographical novel about my time at varsity. The "you" reffering to the friends and love interests, the "me" referring to myself and my everyday experiences, and the "germinating peas" part referring to the little bits of academic work I occasionally did.
That n ight, I had a lot of fun thinking up titles for some of the chapters in this book, which I really do plan to write one day. Among these titles was "heaters, heatbreak and a jalepeno on a stick" (yes, I had been watching Achmed the Dead Terrorist), and what has got to be my personal favourite, "Romany Creams, Romantic Dreams and Non-Engagement Rings".
So, If in 10 years time you see this book on the shelf, you can say that you read about it here first :)
1) Contrary to the belief of most BA students, BSc is not simply the easy way out for people who do not want to have to write essays.
2) A journ student can find inspiration for a good piece of creative writing anywhere...even in a lecture about respiration and photosynthesis.
The proffessor was talking about the afternoon's practical class. I, of course, was not listening, but rather doodling on the side of my friend's (who really does do BSc) notes, much to her annoyance. Suddenly, one of Prof's mundane sentances struck a chord in my mind. "Everything respires," he was saying, "things like you, me, and germinating peas."
You, Me and Germinating Peas. What an interesting name for a semi-biographical novel about my time at varsity. The "you" reffering to the friends and love interests, the "me" referring to myself and my everyday experiences, and the "germinating peas" part referring to the little bits of academic work I occasionally did.
That n ight, I had a lot of fun thinking up titles for some of the chapters in this book, which I really do plan to write one day. Among these titles was "heaters, heatbreak and a jalepeno on a stick" (yes, I had been watching Achmed the Dead Terrorist), and what has got to be my personal favourite, "Romany Creams, Romantic Dreams and Non-Engagement Rings".
So, If in 10 years time you see this book on the shelf, you can say that you read about it here first :)
insecticide VS bullets
i found this quote just now and i thought it was just so good. you know how you get all these people (namely girls and a few self-riteous guys) how claim that they are vegetarians because they "don't like the idea that animals must be born to die" just so that they can have a hmaburger. well, hows this for food for thought:
I am not a vegetarian because I love animals. I am a vegetarian because I hate plants.
A. Whitney Brown
dad once introduced me to an interesting notion concerning vegerternianism: it is actually more harmful to the invroment than "breeding animals for the sole purpose to have them killed".
the discussion arose whe
n we were at Dad's one friend's house. Now Uncle Mike likes his hunting trips, and seeing that he has the extra change to aford it, he goes. often. and he always comes back with heaps and heaps of biltong. this would, should, be enough to put a grin on any South African's face. but not Jessica's. ooo no. his eldest daughter is of the opinion that it is
I am not a vegetarian because I love animals. I am a vegetarian because I hate plants.
A. Whitney Brown
dad once introduced me to an interesting notion concerning vegerternianism: it is actually more harmful to the invroment than "breeding animals for the sole purpose to have them killed".
the discussion arose whe
n we were at Dad's one friend's house. Now Uncle Mike likes his hunting trips, and seeing that he has the extra change to aford it, he goes. often. and he always comes back with heaps and heaps of biltong. this would, should, be enough to put a grin on any South African's face. but not Jessica's. ooo no. his eldest daughter is of the opinion that it isbut what if i was to tell you that the biltong you eat is far more enviromentally friendly than your celery and carrots? its true!
wildlif
e live in parks or reserves, free, as nature intended. hunters must go into the bush and track their prey. even when they find thir quarry they dont always manage a kill (if this isn't earining your supper, then wafting around a veggy store sure as anything isn't). in this evviroment, indigenous plants can grow and flourish. it is also the insect and small animals'
paradise.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Scratching The Surface
It's a Friday night in Grahamstown... the throng of students pulses in response to the flashing of the lights and the beat of the sound which issues from the vibrating speakers. Happily, they sing along to the latest chart hit, girating their bodies and glancing coyly in the direction of the boy/girl they have their eye on tonight.
But how many of them actually know what they are singing along to? Have any of them ever pondered the lyrics to the song which they now belt out without any conscious thought? I am one of the few people I know that is first attracted to a song by its lyrics and their meaning rather than the beat.
I offer the recent hit "Black and Gold", by Sam Sparro, as an example. This song is often played at clubs because it is catchy, and easy to dance to. Would drunk students be as likely to go with this if they knew that they were dancing to a song about God? Would some not say that this would be like dancing to a hymn? And yes, "Black and Gold" is about religion. It is not a romantic song, written about a lost love of the narrator, but rather an expression of his feeling that his life would be nothing without his religion "if you're not really there, then the stars don't even matter, now I'm filled to the top with fear that it's all just a bunch of matter". This is easier to figure out once you know that the singer's father was a minister.
Also, how many people know that "Together Again" by Janet Jackson was about losing someone to AIDS, or that "The Scientist" by Coldplay is about suicide.
So next time you hear a song on the radio and feel the need to start moving those hips, take a moment to consider what you're actually listening to.
But how many of them actually know what they are singing along to? Have any of them ever pondered the lyrics to the song which they now belt out without any conscious thought? I am one of the few people I know that is first attracted to a song by its lyrics and their meaning rather than the beat.
I offer the recent hit "Black and Gold", by Sam Sparro, as an example. This song is often played at clubs because it is catchy, and easy to dance to. Would drunk students be as likely to go with this if they knew that they were dancing to a song about God? Would some not say that this would be like dancing to a hymn? And yes, "Black and Gold" is about religion. It is not a romantic song, written about a lost love of the narrator, but rather an expression of his feeling that his life would be nothing without his religion "if you're not really there, then the stars don't even matter, now I'm filled to the top with fear that it's all just a bunch of matter". This is easier to figure out once you know that the singer's father was a minister.
Also, how many people know that "Together Again" by Janet Jackson was about losing someone to AIDS, or that "The Scientist" by Coldplay is about suicide.
So next time you hear a song on the radio and feel the need to start moving those hips, take a moment to consider what you're actually listening to.
The Addo Park hunt
I visited the Addo for the first time this weekend in anticipation in seeing elephants and bird life. I was not going to get my hopes up on seeing a lion. However, on the road between Marion Baree and the south gate at 10am, we spotted a lioness walking in the road and causing traffic jam. She was walking in a north direction up the road, her eyes shifting to a pair of grazing Kudu not too far off. She was in a down-wind and they obviously had not sensed her yet.
However, it seemed unlikely that she would attempt to take down a kudu on her own. She decided to lazily lie down in the middle of the road, proving good photo opportunities. Then she was on the move again, unperturbed by the vehicles that surrounded her. Her eyes were focused, you could see that she was on the hunt.
We were lucky enough to have her walk right next to our vehicle, and we quickly turned around. She left the road and stood fixated on the bush very close to us. As we got in line with her we saw directly in front of her, was a large warthog. Holding a death stare, she jerked slightly and the warthog was off, crunching of bushes and then the squeals of a little warthog running out of the bush down the road, filled the air with a rush. Everyone waited in anticipation to hear if a successful kill had been made, and a slight pity came over one thinking about the baby who would probably lose its mother.
The circle of life. However, she soon reappeared from the thicket, obviously an unsuccessful attempt. We watched her for a few minutes as she stalked back into the bush leaving everyone enthralled. I tried to identify her with the pictures that were posted, but I just wanted to ask if I am correct in assuming that this is Gina? I also wanted to ask if anyone else thinks that she could be pregnant, as she has a swollen belly and was hunting alone?
How students do not appreciate the birdlife in Grahamstown.
The sounds of the nightlife dampened the beautiful call of the fiery-necked nightjar. This little bird fills the air with an eerie sound, a sound that embodies the Kruger National Park night. When the creatures of the day slumber and the unobserved secrets come out to make their sweet melody and fill the hearts of those who dare to listen.
For years the students of Grahamstown have dominated the night, with their shrieks of laughter, music and free flow exhausts. Taking away the chance of natures song from filling the air.
When last has a student stopped to watch the weaver pick up his little twigs to make his wife happy. When last did a student take time to listen to the story of how the bee-eater continues the cycle of life, by hovering like a helicopter flashing his colours over the honeysuckle bushes.
Did you know that Grahamstown’s Botanical gardens have their very own African Goshawk. Next time you are in the gardens look out for the following birds:
· Greater Double-collared Sunbird
· Southern Double-collared Sunbird
· Amethyst Sunbird
· Malachite Sunbird
· Black-headed Oriole
· Fork-tailed Drongo
· Red-winged Starling
· Cape Weaver
· Speckled Mousebird
· Red-faced Mousebird
· Dark-capped Bulbul
· Sombre Greenbul
· Olive Thrush
· Black-collared Barbet
· Streaky-headed Seedeater
· Yellow-fronted Canary
· Swee Waxbill
· Bronze Mannikin
· Cape Sugarbird
· Cape Rock-Thrush
· Rock Kestrel
· African Goshawk
· African Harrier-Hawk
· Red-fronted Tinkerbird
· Lesser Honeyguide
· Klaas's Cuckoo
· Olive Woodpecker
· Southern Black Flycatcher
· Grey Sunbird
For years the students of Grahamstown have dominated the night, with their shrieks of laughter, music and free flow exhausts. Taking away the chance of natures song from filling the air.
When last has a student stopped to watch the weaver pick up his little twigs to make his wife happy. When last did a student take time to listen to the story of how the bee-eater continues the cycle of life, by hovering like a helicopter flashing his colours over the honeysuckle bushes.
Did you know that Grahamstown’s Botanical gardens have their very own African Goshawk. Next time you are in the gardens look out for the following birds:
· Greater Double-collared Sunbird
· Southern Double-collared Sunbird
· Amethyst Sunbird
· Malachite Sunbird
· Black-headed Oriole
· Fork-tailed Drongo
· Red-winged Starling
· Cape Weaver
· Speckled Mousebird
· Red-faced Mousebird
· Dark-capped Bulbul
· Sombre Greenbul
· Olive Thrush
· Black-collared Barbet
· Streaky-headed Seedeater
· Yellow-fronted Canary
· Swee Waxbill
· Bronze Mannikin
· Cape Sugarbird
· Cape Rock-Thrush
· Rock Kestrel
· African Goshawk
· African Harrier-Hawk
· Red-fronted Tinkerbird
· Lesser Honeyguide
· Klaas's Cuckoo
· Olive Woodpecker
· Southern Black Flycatcher
· Grey Sunbird
Sunday, October 19, 2008
remember....
to all of those of you who are already thinking back fondly to the days of school and sighing whistfully... guess what?
REMEMBER ALGEBRA!
(appologies to all BCom and BSc students...)
this gets to me....
This trend is enough to make a journalist gag
i had to inclued this entire article. i think what the government is trying to do regarding the freedom of the media is, simply put, wrong.
people of my country(yes, i am white, but if you are even THINKING of telling me that i am no South African due to my skin colour, well then i have something to say to you!) fought and died to ensure that our beautiful land could see the light of democracy.
will someone PLEASE explain to me how the behaviour of the ANC reflects what they fought so hard to attain.
One has to conclude that the ANC wants a government tribunal that will act as Big Brother, vetting and passing judgment on media conduct
| Fred Khumalo | Published:Oct 18, 2008 |
people of my country(yes, i am white, but if you are even THINKING of telling me that i am no South African due to my skin colour, well then i have something to say to you!) fought and died to ensure that our beautiful land could see the light of democracy.
will someone PLEASE explain to me how the behaviour of the ANC reflects what they fought so hard to attain.
One has to conclude that the ANC wants a government tribunal that will act as Big Brother, vetting and passing judgment on media conduct
Thirty-one years ago this week, the apartheid government banned 19 black organisations and shut down several newspapers, including The World.
The commemoration of this event always reminds those of us in the media — and ordinary South Africans who respect the role of media in society — of how far we have come as a society. It encourages us to savour and relish the freedoms that we now enjoy under a democratic dispensation.
But then again, the commemoration of this event brings into sharp relief the reality that freedom of the press is still a contested terrain, even under a democratic dispensation.
ANC spokesman Jessie Duarte’s remark about press freedom this week was unpalatable in that it questioned not only the notion of press freedom as we have come to know it, but it even questioned the role of the ombudsman.
“Press freedom is not only for media owners, but for all citizens. If you offend us on page one, make sure you apologise on page one, not ambiguously on page 10,” she said.
Indeed, it is true that with freedom, comes responsibility. Media practitioners do need to exercise their freedom to publish with due consideration for ordinary citizens’ right to privacy and dignity. At the same time, the South African public deserves the right to information.
Duarte sounded ominous when she said the ombudsman was in the habit of passing judgments in favour of the media. The insinuation is that the office of the ombudsman should be scrapped.
In fact, she said unequivocally that she (and I assume she was speaking on behalf of the ANC) was not comfortable with the current situation in which the media is self-regulatory.
Logically, therefore, one has to conclude that the ANC wants a government tribunal — as expressed by the ruling party at Polokwane — that will act as Big Brother, vetting and passing judgment on media conduct.
This is worrisome. It will mark the beginning of a gradual erosion of the media’s right to inform and alert the citizenry of wrongdoing wherever it manifests .
What is further remarkable is that Duarte’s comments came in the wake of the Film and Publications Act, which has been channelled through to the national assembly in the face of protestations from media practitioners, who see it as part of a growing arsenal that will assault media freedom.
The bill, which has yet to be signed by the president, is meant to clamp down on child pornography. That is fine. Except that it is so broad and expansive that, if passed, it will require media organisations to submit to a classification committee all stories on rape, sexual assault, incitement to violence and war.
Not only would this be impractical, it will induce self-censorship in journalists and media organisations in general.
It is indeed reminiscent of the ’80s when, during the state of emergency, media organisations had to submit stories on violence to the then department of information for approval.
This had an insidious and debilitating effect on our journalism.
Stories based on eyewitness accounts by journalists were suppressed at the whim of some official sitting in the ministry , arbitrarily deciding what the South African public deserved to know.
Against this background, Duarte’s expressed opinion about how the media should be governed is a veiled threat against media freedom. Her opinion lays the foundation for a gradual, systematic trammelling of freedom of the press.
A healthy and robust media environment is a nation speaking to itself.
But once you interfere with the media’s voice, you are effectively curtailing a necessary conversation between various sectors of our society. You are muzzling us.
And that is the antithesis of the democratic values that lie at the heart of the nation we are busy building.
South Africans who value these values and freedoms must stand up now and fight — before it’s too late.thoughts as they come.
ANC can’t count on Mandela
article taken from the sunday times webpage
(red italic writing = my interjected thoughts...)
Mad scramble to woo party’s most famous member for election campaign could flop The ANC’s plan to use Nelson Mandela as its trump card in next year’s election has been roundly rejected by the elder statesman’s closest aides.
In a desperate bid to thwart Mosiuoa Lekota and Mbhazima Shilowa’s breakaway party from eating into its support base, ANC strategists had planned to use Mandela at rallies and in television campaigns.(oh come on! this is the party that had been "leading" our country [to rack and ruin] for nearly 15 years. surely by now they sould have beveloped a backbone of thier own, or is Mandela still the only reason people should vote for them? gees likes!)
article taken from the sunday times webpage
(red italic writing = my interjected thoughts...)
Mad scramble to woo party’s most famous member for election campaign could flop The ANC’s plan to use Nelson Mandela as its trump card in next year’s election has been roundly rejected by the elder statesman’s closest aides.
In a desperate bid to thwart Mosiuoa Lekota and Mbhazima Shilowa’s breakaway party from eating into its support base, ANC strategists had planned to use Mandela at rallies and in television campaigns.(oh come on! this is the party that had been "leading" our country [to rack and ruin] for nearly 15 years. surely by now they sould have beveloped a backbone of thier own, or is Mandela still the only reason people should vote for them? gees likes!)
But the Nelson Mandela Foundation yesterday firmly rejected the idea, saying factions hoping to rope the former president into their campaign were headed for disappointment. (go man!)
Jakes Gerwel, Mandela’s long-time friend and adviser who is also chairman of the Nelson Mandela Foundation, said: “We’ve not been informed of this plan yet, (another perfect example of our political pertie's way of doin things: let the news say tell ppl whats going on before they do, saves hassle again i suppose)/ if there is such a plan, but Madiba has made it quite clear that he is not going to get involved in these things — and that includes the coming election.
“People just don’t get it — he’s 90 years old. He’s just not up to it. He’s not going to get politically involved, not in any way.”
ANC strategists have told the Sunday Times that as part of its plans, the party will seek to secure Mandela’s appearance at one of the major rallies, where he would urge people to vote for the ANC and remind them that it “is the only party that would bring a better life for them”.(please note the future tense, as there is - "as yet" - no evidence of this that the party could use in place of beloved Mandela's face)
Although the ANC does not want to drag Mandela directly into its battle (yea.... they just dont have any card to put up their sleeves...) with the breakaway faction, an insider working for the party’s election team said Mandela would be approached to either attend a rally or to be used in a video clip that would be played at election events.
Among other strategies being considered is to have Mandela wear a T-shirt bearing the party’s election message and also to use his voice to appeal to South Africans to vote for the party in broadcast messages.
ANC spokesman Brian Sokutu said: “Voting for the ANC in the election will be paying tribute to South Africa’s first democratically elected president. He has expressed full support for the ANC for the upcoming election.”(not doing so will admit that the party he worked so hard to promote will have become worthless. not an easy thing to do. poor man)
On whether Mandela has been approached to campaign, Sokutu said: “It will depend entirely on him, taking into account his age. There has been no formal approach to him.”
The strategy to use Mandela’s broad public appeal comes at a time when ANC dissidents, led by former defence minister Lekota and former Gauteng premier Shilowa, are intensifying their national campaign to launch an opposition movement to challenge the ANC in next year’s election.(yay!)
Lekota also attempted to secure a meeting with Mandela last week, but failed. (double yay)
Gerwel confirmed that Lekota had visited Mandela’s Houghton office. He said Mandela was "not available" and Lekota had met instead with the foundation’s chief executive, Achmat Danghor.
“He was not turned away,(oh really now?) but we keep asking people to be in touch with one of Madiba’s organisations.”
The ANC leadership has accused Lekota of presiding over a national executive committee (NEC) meeting in which Mandela was humiliated by former President Thabo Mbeki’s loyalists, who were unhappy about Mandela’s criticism of Mbeki’s stance on HIV/Aids.
In an open letter to Lekota two weeks ago, NEC member Jeff Radebe suggested that he apologise to Mandela for his alleged role in the matter.(all these names.... so confusin keepin track of them all. i mean, who cares anyway? all i want is water, lights and no flippin crime. hmm.. good blog idea that one)
Lekota confirmed yesterday that he sought an audience with Mandela, but that he was only able to meet Danghor and Mandela’s personal assistant, Zelda la Grange, who told him Mandela was ill.
Said Lekota: “I was disturbed that Jeff has said funny things about me. .. I don’t really want to draw him (Mandela) into all these troubles. .. Achmat was saying that there is no point in engaging him (Mandela) with all these things because they depress him. I might see him if I get information that he is OK.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
RSS Feed (xml)