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Tuesday, September 28, 2010

I Like Your Problems, I Think They're Sleak

I see your third thumb
and you see my longer arm
I hear your problems in speak
and you smell my fragrance, weak.
I like your problems, I think they're sleak

I try weakly to be the walrus
you seem to quite like the fuss
But I can juggle
Perhaps help you in a struggle

Your a little, only slightly brittle
Calling "play it boy, swing that fiddle"
You gotta swing high, play that guy
You gotta talk slightly slowly lady sly

I wish you would come over
play a game of twister, sister
I wish you could sing neatly
maybe beat me in ping-pong sweetly

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Pearl Jam - Alive

Perfume : The story of a Murderer : Author. Patrick Suskind

Set in 18th century France, "Perfume" tells the story of  Jean-Baptiste Grenouille the 5th child to his mother, but only the first to survive birth. Grenouille's existence was cursed, as the freakish boy was born without a sensory signature, he was born without scent. It was because of this odorless taint that Grenouille was thrown out by his mother and initially rejected by the entire population of France. Grenouille did however hold one talent. His biggest weakness was countered by an ironic strength, as he possessed the greatest nose the world had ever witnessed.

Perfume tells the adventures of Grenouille a genius in the art of smell that works his way up from a low life, to a leather tanner and then into the world of Giuseppe Baldini, an old perfumer who lacks natural talent but makes up for it with years of experience. Grenouille's exceptional and unmatchable ability for dissecting and identifying scents proves an obvious advantage in the world of Perfumery. 

Grenouille uses his gift initially to boost the business of his mentor Baldini, even though his talent with scents is far beyond the old perfumer. Grenouille's nose for dissecting scents soon becomes a tool in his own twisted desires. He uses his talent to gather the most beautiful scents in the world, often destroying the source of these beautiful scents. Grenouille also uses his nose to create a scent for himself, a scent that will change his world

German author Patrick Suskind's lead character is dark and twisted. He paints a beautifully dirty picture of 18th century France and his account of the life of Grenouille is a true master piece.

If this was a real publication and I had to decide how many stars I would give Patrick Suskind's "Perfume", I would say 4.5 out 5 as no one gets 5 out of 5. No one

If you aren't the Book type, the evil TV trolls also made a movie about Grenouille. Also entitled Perfume : The Story of a Murderer. But who watches TV anyway?        

Sunday, September 19, 2010

If you go out into Town Tonight

Johannesburg Town is certain to bring an obvious cringe to any caring parent's face. The thought of their young darlings venturing into a land of violent murders and armed robberies makes our providing elders shiver in their arm chairs. However, there seems to be a revival at the corner of Pimm and Carr street, Newtown. Under the control of Adam Lowery, The Woods has once again been attracting many a young socialite to its walls and causing many sleepless nights for concerned parents.

Even with the revived interest in the The Woods, I decided that my Friday night would not take place at the "cool" spot. Instead I decided to venture into to town to watch Hazer at Town Hall, an ideally suited gig venue right next door to Adam Lowery's Night Club. 

Haezer is a Cape Town DJ who has received much praise for his musical efforts. He has collaborated with Francois Van Coke and Peach Van Pletzen on Oorlog Frankenstein's Dans Dans Dans and gained a large indoctrinated following.

Town Hall is literally that, a Hall. Seating and comforts are rare, but who wants to sit down when you can dance the entire night away while chewing off your bottom lip. Drinks are expensive and the threat of your Citi Golf getting stolen is high. However, tonight this was the cool place to be. The attendance of young and trendy individuals confirmed this. 
                   Photo by Liam Lynch
The night started with fairly decent music, Johan from Kidofdoom managed to keep the growing crowd interested with a mixture of dance musical delights. I strolled around the venue trying to look cool or at least not lost, as I have never really been part of the dance scene and recognized very few faces in the crowd. People were now starting to bust out their coolest dance moves and I found my skills were limited to a poor impersonation of the Indi-shuffle. As the night progressed my concern about my dance moves began to fade. I think everyone els didn't care either as we all looked fairly stupid. Some individuals decided to take their dance routine to the stage for all to see, guys doing the disco handshake and girls doing their best stripper impersonations. I guess when everyone is looking stupid you look worse when you are not joining in.


By 12ish I was starting to wonder if Haezer would ever take the stage. However, my typical aloofness got the better of me and apparently Haezer had been on stage for half an hour already. In all respect his beats were good and his samples we cool, but I found my self losing interest within 20 minutes. His set became repetitive and I found myself making fun of the nature of it all. It's not that it was bad, I just found it funny that I didn't notice the change in DJs' until someone pointed it out to me. I continued dancing until the night was over. So in the end, even with my petty complaints he got the desired reaction out of me. 


After spending a while looking for our comrades and rallying up the correct individuals, we made our way home. The police patrolled the streets and were making the lives of the drunken drivers hell as they seemed to be on every main street corner. With our sober driver we all laughed as we drove past. Not a bad Friday night all in all, I should try stop being so dam critical and enjoy the evening a bit more. 

Sunday, September 12, 2010

International make friends with a Muslim day

Yesterday was the 9 year anniversary of the tragic events of 9/11, where an extremist group hijacked two planes and flew them into the twin towers in the USA. Thousands of people died and a war was waged as a result of the attack. The events will be remembered as one of the most tragic acts of terrorism of our generation


Instead of coming to terms with the event and looking within themselves, small groups in the USA continue to discriminate and defame the Muslim religion. A pastor from a small church in Florida made threats that he was going to burn the Qu'ran in remembrance of the events of 9/11. Thankfully the entire world condemned the act and this so called "pastor" called off the event. Even with the public's negative expressions towards the burning of the Qu'ran a small group of conservative Christians tore pages out of the holy book outside the White House in protest against what they called a "Charade of Islam" on the anniversary of 9/11(News24.com) . People like Terry Jones are the antagonists of this situation, they make obscene allegations and statements with their warped beliefs and are just as guilty as the terrorists who endanger peoples lives on a daily basis. The acts of 9/11 was not the first encounter between the USA and the Muslim population. Discrimination and racism has always been present between the two populations often with the USA at fault. The root of the conflict is difficult to locate and both populations are at fault.

A day where the USA makes a point of learning about the Muslim culture and eliminating false biases about the Muslim population

I would now like to suggest that 9/11 should become "International make friends with a Muslim day". A day where the USA makes a point of learning about the Muslim culture and eliminating false biases about the Muslim population. The USA should make the effort to curb the gap, not because they are at fault but because they are arguably the most powerful country in the world. The saying is something out of a Chinese action movie but it rings true, "With great power comes great responsibility". We have seen what has happened between Israel and Palestine, if attitudes do not change we could witness another holy war between USA and Muslims. If it has not started already

Sunday, September 5, 2010

A Day at the Races

I tend to shy away from early morning activities, I normally wake up on a Sunday in time to catch our family lunch. Strangely enough this Sunday I some how found my self standing at an intersection somewhere near Tarlton setting up banners and gazebos, preparing mixtures of bright blue Powerade and getting ready for the hoards of cyclists. I have a brief and unenthusiastic history with cycling, a badly dressed bunch that is normally found at the butt of bad jokes. But what the hell, they are paying me to give them what looked like dish washer rinse aid and a little bit of a smile here and there.

"They greeted us with that typical Afrikaans friendly smile, made sure we had what ever we needed, offered us brandy and told us to work"

Our water point was sponsored by Thule Products and dressed in Thule branded T-shirts we stood and waited for the "Elite" riders. Our water and Powerade was provided by a local farmer who not only gave his son a job but his hair line as well. The farmer and his son looked like they ran the the event as they drove around in their matching Hilux Bakkies and ordered people around. They greeted us with that typical Afrikaans friendly smile, made sure we had what ever we needed, offered us brandy and told us to work. We were also joined by a very excited colored man, who kept saying "So you guys are Mountain Bikers hey", to avoid confusion and unnecessary explaining we agreed and pretended to work. He moved between us and the police guiding traffic, discussing how amazing the riders were while using some serious cycling slang. I suspected that he might just have a Lance Armstrong shrine or at least a tattoo depicting his beloved Lance. 

The Elite Riders approached our water point which marked the 40km mark as a break neck pace. Police sirens warded off any passer by's who risked being squashed by the main group. I must give it to these guys, they ride pretty dam fast in their shiny cycling gear. Our cycling enthusiast looked like he had a semi and proceeded to shout and scream. I couldn't fight off the feeling that his child hood dream was riding past him. The elite riders took no interest in our water point, we shouted cheers and edged them on. However, they took no interest in us and looked somewhat annoyed by our chanting.

As the next groups approached and past, we were constantly ignored as the cyclists looked absorbed in the task ahead. Our cycling enthusiast continued to look aroused. After half an hour or so the odd cyclist started to pull over and ask for a drink, they tended to disguise their lack of preparation or hangover with weak excuses and complaining about something in their shoe. One of my comrades told me I should prep myself as the storm was on its way. The flow of cyclists started to increase and so did the number of Tour De France wannabes who wanted our blue Powerade.

"They attacked our 100 liters of hydration with fury, asking us to pour water and Powerade into any orifice and container they had"

Within 10 minutes the roads where packed with riders, the tightly packed groups of the elite riders were no more and the road in front of us was over flowing with people who were apparently just getting into this cycling thing. They attacked our 100 liters of hydration with fury, asking us to pour water and Powerade into any orifice and container they had. It resembled the same feeling a waiter feels when a restaurant is packed and people are very hungry. The cyclists came towards us in hoards, each cyclist more thirsty then the last. The influx seemed to have no end.

"Suddenly we were out of water and Powerade and the attitudes of the cyclist changed very quickly."

As we began to run out of water, I noticed two things. I saw who must have been the strongest man in the world. A father rode tandem with his heavily over weight daughter, this man had the shoulders of a rugby flank and legs as thick as my torso, his darling daughter looked to be enjoying the ride as she had hardly broken a sweat and was clearly taking it easy. My second observation was that as the race went on the cyclists became far more friendly and happy to see us. Some even wanted to start a conversation about how we must be Mountain Bike riders. However, the thirsty hoards around us prevented this. Suddenly we were out of water and Powerade and the attitudes of the cyclist changed very quickly.

Farmer Johan, his son and his cute "Boer Vrou" returned to refill our supplies and save us from the thirsty cyclists who looked like they wanted to have us shot. We continued to satisfy the cyclists thirsts, the rush was taking its toll on our team who were starting to tire. An Indian fellow hung around us for twenty minutes complaining of cramp and how he wanted a quick break. Ten minutes after he set off again he had returned and promptly asked us to call the Emergency Number as he could go no further. We told him to rather wait for the officials who would come past and pick up the stragglers. The influx of cyclists had now slowed to a easy pace and we knew our task would be over soon. We joked and chatted with our retiring rider who did not seem in that much need of medical attention. 

Within 20 minutes the flow of riders had stopped completely and we were out of our second batch of Powerade and water. A police van gave our Indian friend a lift back home and we packed our car and left. We headed for the finish to meet with our employers and claim our rewards. At the finish line the hoards of riders were still completing their race, apparently about half the pack had finished and the workers at the finish line still had a good few hours of work left. As we were on our way back to our car and enjoying the feeling of a job well done, we spotted our Indian friend who was now crossing the finish line in about the middle of the pack.  
        

Friday, September 3, 2010

Dr Hunter S. Thompson

Born Hunter Stockton Thompson on July 18, 1937. Hunter S. Thompson is a famous Author and Journalist, namely for his Book "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas". However, the author has a large array of best selling novels to his name. Hunter S.Thompson died on the 20th of February 2005 by his own hand as he had suffered a long line of health problems. Hunter S. Thompson inspired many writers and journalists with his unapologetic style of writing that blurred the line between fact and fiction, he often exaggerated events to make them more entertaining or exciting for the reader. Hunter S. Thompson has been credited as the creator of Gonzo styled journalism, where the reporter involves himself so heavily in the story that he ends up becoming a central character in the story. Known for his compassion, idealism and his fun loving nature, Hunter S. Thompson lives on in the minds of his past and future readers


I feel the same about Disco as I do about Herpes "Hunter S. Thompson"


Hunter used LSD, Mescaline, Cocaine and alcohol unapologetically and often promoted the use of these drugs. He ran for Sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado in 1970. Part of his campaign was the decriminalizing of drugs for personal use. Needless to say he did not win, but this attempt characterizes his attitude towards drug use

I wouldn't recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they've worked for me "Hunter S. Thompson"  


Hunter's writing style can be characterized by exaggerated first person accounts of his life. The Rum diary is a partially accurate account of his time spent working in San Juan, Puerto Rico. He took real life happenings and added his bizarre take on them to create a story that blurs the line between fact and fiction. His accounts of the "Mint 400 Motorcycle Race" for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas provided us with the a twisted tale of drug abuse and mischief that defies the convention of societies norms and accepted behavior. Hunters writing style and lack of respect for fact and fiction caused many groups to become angered with the writer. His accounts of Hells Angels biker gang in "Hells Angels: A strange and Terrible Saga" managed to anger the notorious group.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro "Hunter S. Thompson"


Hunters fast paced lifestyle managed to catch up with him. After a long bout of poor health, Hunter Committed Suicide on the 20th of February with a gun shot to the head. His funeral featured a 153 foot cannon in the shape of a doubled thumbed fist button that fired the writers ashes. The funeral was financed by the Actor Johnny Depp. Depp told the Associated Press " All I'm doing is trying to make sure his last wishes come true. I just want to send my pal out the way he wants to go out". Depp plays the part of Hunter in the movie remake of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. He is also set to play Hunter again in the remake of The Rum Diary. Hunter had a keen interest in guns and on one occasion took talk show host Conan O'Brien on tour of his farm and then for a little bit of target practice

There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible then a man in the depths of an ether binge "Hunter S. Thompson"

Hunter S. Thompson will continue to influence writers. His catchy and bizarre writing is something unique. Copycats have long tried to emulate the Gonzo creators style. None have managed to recreate his fame and brilliance. If you have not read a book by Hunter S.Thompson, I strongly recommend that you change this, as soon as possible.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Dealing with the hand that you were dealt

The most difficult and mature thing anyone can do is to come to terms with one's faults. Be it physical insecurities about your appearance, being unhappy with you mental capacity, confidence problems or just being straight up insecure about yourself. I would like to think that everyone has deep down insecurities that they dwell on, because if I'm the only one then I need to go to a shrink. I find myself dwelling on things that in the larger scheme of life are irrelevant and are just a part of who I am. I find myself worrying constantly because I now show the signs of male pattern baldness, or the fact that I will have to work like a slave for the next 30+ years of my life, I worry about the fact that I drive in a shit bucket excuse for a car or because my teeth will never feature in a Colgate advert. Its hard when you realize that you don't fit the MTV or Hollywood mold. However, I am starting to see that no one does.

Yes, some people are more attractive then others and yes, some people are just smarter then others. But I am starting to realize that beneath these supposed "prime examples of humanity" that everyone has their own insecurities and faults. I have waisted many an opportunity and occasion where I choose (I am now realizing that this is a choice that you make) to focus on the negative things and not live in the now. Dealing with the hand that you were dealt in life and playing it to the best of you ability is something that is needed if you wish to succeed. I saw a tweet by Deepak Chopra , that was retweeted by Kerry McGegor that said " What will make you attractive is not working on your weak points but embracing them". I do realize that that entire statement sounds lame and clichéd but it is something that rings true with my life right now. 

Photo By Gareth Steele
I find myself often dwelling on the negative things about myself and because of this I do not display the positives. Thus, I am forcing the negative aspects about myself to be the core of my personality and not making the positive aspects my center. I mean who wants a guy with a bad hairline, bad teeth and low self esteem. But a smart, witty, somewhat attractive, driven young man can do what ever he fucking wants to. I have watched people who are so talented and beautiful just waste themselves, and transform into ugly and lifeless individuals. I don't want to waste myself. By focusing on helping others with their problems it will allow you to over come your own.