Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I'm NOT a criminal... I missed that bus
I don't know about you, but often when I tell people about criminal relatives that I know they always give me these shell-shocked looks. I seems to me that alot of people in our country come from such a moral standing that they assume that the only real criminals are government officials and the murderers they've read about in papers. I started thinking about how many people I know who have turned to crime to better their lives and realized further that in my life I have encountered at least two hand fulls people that I know personally who, reached milestones in their lives where they thought crime would really pay. I concluded that, although the audience of people I spoke to are South Africans of European decent, the morally inclined culture that they grow up under is rarely exposed to real criminal act except for the white colour crime that their distant cousin might suscribe to or that they read about in tabloids.This is Africa (T.I.A) - Many Mzansians, have been raised on the backs of criminal relatives. Our parents in most cases, are God fearing people, who would sooner starve than to commit a crime. But so many of our family members have been tested beyond any reasonable means and the crimes that they are squeezed into. Crime isn't the random inflammatory statements that we hear about on the tellie every night. Our cousins, uncles and neighbours have become what they have become out of the poverty strickeness that infests our sometimes pretentious land. Often we forget who the criminals are. The are children whom we neglected. They are aunts who never got a raise in the twenty years that the devoted to society. They are dads who were cheated out of their pensions. They are friends who we couldn't help because of our own demon days. They have been in and out of prison, and though they realize that crime isn't the way, between the social grant and the starvation, the demoralization, prison seems like a holiday at a game reserve. This is africa and I am not a criminal. My brother is not a criminal. My sister is not a criminal. You.... staring at me with you Maybelline lipstick and your botox twisted are not a criminal, but let the recession turn you into an ugly beast and i might not be able to save you from being as african as the aunt that I once knew.
x
Weird World Chronicles
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Something keeps pulling, but I aint budging...
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
After Elections Drivel
I wonder what bloggers around the world will write about, since the last six months has been a bombardment of pre- and post- elections jitters and jeers? How will friends who stood on opposite sides act towards one another when the final judgement is displayed on TV? Will we be consumed by hatred for an unfair system, our none the wiser counterparts or will we civilly move on with our lives in the hope of a better electoral next time? Will the crime rates soar or be distiguished? Though my friends and I are planning to have a smokefest after we vote, to dumb down the nerves and block out the bureaucracy during what will be the longest day in South African history, how will we feel once it all comes to an end. Will Thursday be a joyous day or will we carry rocks of agitation on our backs.
I wonder what it'll be like just seconds after the announce the result? Will people change the channel to the evening movie or will they get drunk to drown their sorrows? A country without a fight anymore, will the news broadcast talk of angry mob voters looting villages and empty townsman be racking young girls or will there be a sense of achievement felt by the majority who truly believe that they made the right choice. Will their be guilt? Will that guilt eat away at the moon? Will eyes stare at the moon hoping that their votes could have been different? I don't know, but I hope for my sake and yours that Thursday the 23 is a day easily forgotten. I hope that Thursday the 23 begins as a normal day of business and learning that of arguments and yearning. I hope that peace will settle upon us with no regret as a venture into the dark abyss of resentment may be too much a blunder for Africa to muster.
These are just wondering moments, with no particular direction at all....
Friday, April 3, 2009
Don't be afraid of the big bad wolf.
Am I being watched? Is this the place I used to call home? How were they able to bug the president and oust him from public office without as much as shooting a pistol? I used to think that kind of thing only happening in espionage films. Back at the ranch our hands are tied behind our backs and shock has sealed our brains threatning us with fear that is disabling our fighting spirit. We go home eat dinner, make love, watch TV and sleep unti work the next day wherewhich we repeat the same action. I hear of conspiracies happening everyday in North America, China, Russia, Congo and Zimbabwe; political sodomization of the constitution that are actioned by higher authorities at a high level in places that we have no access to let alone an idea of. These things often seem like the makings of a Hollywood tale with a twist of Disney fable, but when I look into the eyes of people I know and listen to their likeminded suggestions and innuendos it begs the question how impossible it is tap into a large group of ignorant individuals and to manipulate their minds into becoming the zombies that the power hungry want to control.
I recall a TV series in the 80's called V, where aliens invaded the earth in the most unruthless and subtle manner. They started in the presidents office and worked their way down to the common hobo, recruiting and probing every individual they could sink their teeth into until they could satisfactory say they had a big enough army to launch a global attack on the world. Only they didn't count on a small band of earthlings defending what was rightfully theirs. They didn't count on the band of earthlings discvering a secret vile that they kept in a chamber that nobody knew about and using it to destroy them. Often when I look into the eyes of friends, family, superiors and other people I meet and see the same aliens so far up each other cracks, nestling in each other beliefs, conning each other into believing that they are morally accountable and that they have a people best interests at heart and wonder how long it will be before they are exposed.
When I was a little boy my pre-school teacher told me the tale of the 3 little pigs. The wolf came along and blew the three little pig's houses down. Until one day they found its weakness and no matter house hard the wolf blew he couldn't blow the little piggies down no more. Its only a matter of time till we decypher your secrets. You may be able to pull a blanket over the world eyes, but its only a matter of time before we come to your backyard and huff and puff and blow your house down.
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Goodfellas Paradigm
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Ah, awards, choke, cough, grumble, grumbe-spit. I can’t seem to understand how the opinions of other people, like judges get me down. Everything has a flavour of the month and if what you do is good enough for someone to pick up on and it relates to them, not that it would be any good, then it wins. All about timing. All about luck-less skill than skill requires. A sort of top of the pops success, does it mean the persons responsible are good, or are they just holding on to a winning lottery ticket. There are always winners, and then there are always people like me who look for consolation in the form of telling ourselves that we aren’t concerned with awards. When in actual fact I feel almost dismembered and completely incapable. I am supposed to be a writer, a thinker and I can’t seem to get passed my own failures. The Goodfellas paradigm (eventually even Martin Scorsese's genius is recognised-SEE TIMING). Do I really care, well would you? How hard is it to remain optimistic and motivated when one of the apparent key motivators is entering a competition, right? However all that it does is create undue stress and anxiety, a build up to an anti-climax. How is any of that healthy? So I diddle about in feigned contentment, playing idly with my dead cat. My sweet little daydream. Now that I have no more justification for the ramblings of the broken hearted I will attempt being more frivolous and spirited, all hopefully for this glossy little future I am ascending into. I will start signing off with an “On the Plus Side”. Verification if you will that I am trying to always look on the bright side of life. Okay here it goes:
On The Plus Side- I have my health and I am not without any limbs. Thank you Jesus…
Monday, March 23, 2009
Anon
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Thursday, March 19, 2009
our children
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the art of manipulation.