When heroes die

So I’ve been procrastinating to get a television, and today, it just hit me. I could’ve missed the coverage of when our dear Madiba passed on. I instantly felt awful for my slight apathy at the height of his awful illness.

Then I recalled a golden memory from my childhood.

The morning Princess Diana passed away, I threw the biggest tantrum, it was epic, got me out of church. So naturally, I chilled and watch tv. And there it was, the paparazzi dun killed The Princess of Wales And Hearts And Great Suits And Hair. I found myself calling the church to ask them to find my mother, because Diana is dead. Looking back, I don’t remember if I even cared for Diana or not, but I knew she was a giant in the world. It’s was a huge deal. The scenes on telly were incredibly emotional. People were broken.

Then I remember how we had a tape of Oliver Tambo or/and Chris Hani’s funerals. Again, it was a huge deal.

Then I remembered when Whitney and Michael died. It was all over the place. We were shattered. Whiteny’s funeral brought the word and mighty praise of our Lord Jesus to the devil that is CNN. Millions (or billions), watched and we all mourned the world’s very own song bird.

Pardon my crassness, but we will lose our shit when (I want to say if, but death is death) Tata dies. There are no words to describe the man he is. He embodies the power of the human spirit. He is a hero because that is his power. I really can’t say more. There really are no words. I’ve listened to many an interview with Mandela. He just resonates everything good.

Sometimes I just wish the story of his illness was kept private. There is just so much money to be made from his death and the vultures are just circling (Gedleyhlekisa, I am talking about you) and I suppose Mandla too? I’m not clued up on what that psycho is doing; the tomb raider headline made me tired me.

Post script
• Actually, someone call The Vatican, get a man canonised! Saint Madiba has a good ring to it.
• I wish Brenda and Mariam were here for this. Brenda, especially, was going to get her shit together and perform the shit out of a jam for Tata.
• Who are these people who are going kill the white people when Tata dies? Please don’t. If you really want them gone, put them on ships and sending them packing like they came. I kid. Leave white people alone.
• On white people. I met this political radical the other day, it was very unfortunate. He said something so scary to me: “The white man taught us his language and his ways so that we can take instructions. This was an investment he made a long time ago, it keeps growing over time, and we don’t even see it.” This scarred the shit out of me. Thoughts?
• So Mandla, The Tomb Raider…you’re embarrassing yourself! (I’m sure I’ll still feel the same once I actually read up on what exactly you were doing digging graves.)
• I’m sorry for cussing and talking about Tata at the same time.
• Happy Friday everyone

The News…or not.

Newsroom! One of my favorite things on telly in a very long time. It’s fast paced, it’s ‘real’, dramatic, intelligent, funny and and and. It has a lot going for it. Because it is so good, it makes a lot of us feel like the intellectual snobs we are not. So I got my head out of my ass today.

It’s clear that it’s subjective to have something qualify for ‘news’ in our respective opinions.

In high school, I’d sometimes catch a taxi to go home, this one time, while I was waiting for it to get full, the newspaper boy came selling Daily Sun. After he left, these two girls went on about how dumb that newspaper is and how ridiculous the stories were, how no one needs to read that. A part of me agreed. Daily Sun does have questionable articles. A few minutes later they had a fat chat about JLo’s love life. Suddenly the air reeked of hypocrisy.

My friend had this to say on the tweet machine today : “@Queen_Wel: I don’t see how Rihanna and Chris Brown’s relationship is news? Like afternoon drive news? -___- these are dark times children! Dark times.” Apparently this was on Highveld’s (a reputable radio station) 5pm news. Wel’s gripe was that this was reported in a ‘news’ slot.

Honestly I don’t know what counts as news anymore. I just know this, if you care, it’s news. If people talk about it, it’s news. That said, it doesn’t have to be about global warming or interest rates. It just has to matter to people. Even if it’s Chris Brown and Tina Turner.

How would you define a dick if we didn’t have Zapiro?

I’ve been aching to blog for a minute now, but I had nothing to say. I still don’t have much to say really. But someone got called a dick and some people don’t think it’s fair.

Initially I wanted to pontificate about holding those in public office to a higher standard, but that’s a tired speech considering the people WE have in public office. Plus it will raise my blood pressure. I want to talk about the bare minimum: not being a dick.

Let’s say my name is Sizwe. I’m your average Joe, married with kids. I then go on to fuck my friend’s daughter and end up impregnating her. Would you call me a dick? Would your answer change if I had three wives? What if I was president? Am I still a dick? Would you feel sorry for me if a political satirist called me a dick? What if there was a cartoon mocking me in a leading national newspaper? Are you feeling sympathetic yet?

We can all agree, Zapiro felt no such feeling, albeit for different reasons. I think we can all find different reasons to call different people dicks. Mine is fucking your buddy’s daughter when you have three wives at home(s). It doesn’t make you a bad person…but it does make you a dick!

What is your definition of a dick?

A picture is worth a thousand words.

JZ is a dick

How to spot a hooker in the day

Haven’t blogged in ages. Been doing life things or just taking a break I don’t know.

 

It was two o’clock in the afternoon and I was waiting for my sister outside the shops at one of Lynwood’s many shopping complexes.

As I was waiting, I noticed this lady (not really) walking to get to the ATMs. I should say right now that I’m a very observant person, especially of random things that probably won’t mean/amount to anything. Anyways, a few seconds into my observing this woman, I noticed a few things that led me to believe that she was a prostitute. I’ll be first to admit that sometimes my imagination runs rampant and I get questionable ideas brewing in my mind, but on this occasion I feel justified. Here is how I came to the realization that this lady was a tramp.

Gait

The way she walked was the first thing that made me notice her. It was a very peculiar gait, one that I was not familiar with. At first I thought she had some sort of disability, but no, she just walked funny. She seemed to use the arch of her feet more than necessary especially considering that she was wearing flats. She looked a tad bit uncomfortable or at least not used to walking in flats. I didn’t understand until I noticed more irregularities.

Calf Muscles

She had toned calf muscles which didn’t really go well the rest of her. I knew for sure she wasn’t someone who believed in regular exercise. Her calves rivalled Zola Bud’s (okay, maybe Helen Hunt’s) but still. This is the point where my mind started running rampant, I got it in me that if someone wore clear 8 inch heels everyday and had to stand and walk around in them…they would have calves like these. These were 8 inch clear heel wearing calves and I had to see if there’s more evidence. And there was.

Skin Tone

This was a black woman, but she was a yellow-bone (fair skinned black people are called yellow-bones by not so fair skinned black people). Her yellow-bonedness was however very compromised…think Happy Sindane’s skin tone. I want to say she looked pale, but not really. Imagine the skin tone a Khoisan would have if she’d never been kissed by the sun. Like she had a serious vitamin C deficiency (don’t even know what that would do to the skin, but I imagine it would result in her kind of skin tone). Like yellow leather seats that have been left outside after months of sun and rain…yes something like that. And like we all know, hookers don’t see much of the sun.

Thing is she didn’t look homeless or nothing. I had to find more hooker evidence. I did.

Hair

Her hair nearly threw me of my game. It was as nappy as fuck nuts! Think Whoopi Goldberg’s pubs in The Colour Purple (unnecessary hyperbole). But yes it was just that bad. If we still had the pencil test, The Whiteman would deport her to freaken Gabon. In my mind I thought it looked like she’d been wearing a beanie for the past 20 years or something. Then it hit me…wigs!!! Wigs are exactly like beanies, we’ll they should at least have the same effect on hair. So I was back on my game and things just kept getting better.

Nails

Once I noticed how lovely her nails were I had that “Cell-C tell someone” moment. Her nails looked lovely. They were gorgeous. Why would you have hair like that and hot nails? Because you are a hooker in the day time! That’s why! I was convinced. But I kept looking just in case.

At this point she was done using the ATM. I witnessed the same walk and was now looking at her in a whole different light. But something exciting happened!!!

She stepped into the SUN!!!

Guys! Away from the shade of the building she totally exposed herself. The glaring rays of sunshine had her looking disoriented and perplexed. The look was unmistakeable; it was like when Eric Northman (vampire from True Blood) stepped into the sun after hundreds of years. I couldn’t help it, I laughed so hard sitting there by myself.

So there you have it guys! Now you two can see if you can spot a hooker in the day. It is in how they walk, their calf definition, tone of their skin, how their hair looks, the nails and if you’re lucky their reaction to the sun.

 

Postscript

• Although some of the things in this blog post are exaggerated for dramatic effect, they really are not far from the truth.
• Also this poor woman could be a victim of Apartheid or The ANC’s trifling ways. So ya: Dear ANC people look like hookers (and maybe even are) because of you! #Jokes #OrNot
• This actually happened last year December. I found myself thinking about blogging about it a few minutes ago when I was “studying”. Procrastination is so much fun.
• I’m actually very fascinated by hookers. If I ever write an award winning anything trust me, a hooker will be in the storyline.
• I must also mention that when I was in varsity a friend of mine and I ran a soup kitchen from res for the homeless people of Mowbray (Cape Town). On a few occasions these two hookers had some of our soup. Very nice people. Never saw them during the day…ever.

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self. Someone very wise said this. Don’t remember who. This is particularly true for someone who has tons of work to do and a blog account.

 

“In our future you wouldn’t look twice” #GTFOH

DASO knew that this here poster would cause a stir and why wouldn’t it? Its two attractive naked people with contrasting skin tones. For crying out loud, it looks like a Jean Paul Gaultier perfume spread in a magazine. And the slogan, “In our future you wouldn’t look twice”. Like interracial relationships have anything to do with politics, as symbolic as it may be.

I would’ve loved this picture if it wasn’t blatantly used for ballyhoo. I think it’s in bad taste. Like when Helen dresses like a Soweto street vendor to “get down” with the people. Using shallow differences is not the way to sway people. Or me rather, it is best to speak for myself.

If a picture is worth a thousand words than The DA has for me said enough for the next few weeks. I don’t know if The ANC has responded to this poster yet, but I would urge them not to. This is D-grade fodder for bloggers like me. Shame on me for giving this attention, but it’s what you wanted so here it is DASO!

Everything is changing. People are taking their comedians seriously and their politicians as a joke. – Will Rogers

First we were, Then they came, We

First we were, Then they came, Now we wait

First we were

An existence of Adams and Eves

In our Eden, with our God

In beauty we lived, in peace we loved

It was lush, it was Paradise

Then they came

Blood was shed, men were slaughtered

Pain was invented, suffering was created

For the love of Eden we fought

Lives were lost and freedom restored

Now we wait

Allowed to dream we found hope

A gift it was, we rejoiced

But death and hunger stayed with us

We are still struggling, stagnant and bleeding

We were

They came

We wait

Come Dine With Me South Africa

I recently watched Come Dine With Me: South Africa for the first time and I must say I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.

My friend Senti insist that I need to start watching, and although I tend to enjoy similar things, I felt like its another trifling Reality TV Show. I must however credit “Come Dine With Me” as one of the best on TV.

For those of you haven’t watched, basically they get four contestants to host a dinner at their respective homes. Each contestant gets to serve three courses; a starter, the main course and dessert. Between the course we get to hear privately shot commentary from what the contestants. At the end of the dinner the other three get to rate the host on a scale of one to ten. The person with the highest score gets to win a cash price.

What I find interesting is the mix of characters the producers put together. Since it was my first time watching I can’t say if the characters are always as zesty. It does however seem like the producers found a winning formula to get the right combination of contestants vying for the cash price and zest swiftly finds its way to them.

It is amazing how much personality food brings out of people. A person will love you (your food) in the moment, but its all a façade to appear cordial. The fact that its a competition further exposes people for exactly who they are, competitive and very self-assertive. Coupled with the relentlessly sarcastic Dave Lamb (the narrator), you have witty, unscripted entertainment that feels real.

What I love most is that these are your average Joe’s who just love food and can cook. They’re not trying to open a restaurant or be the next Jamie Oliver. Plus this is South Africa, for a small country we’re very diverse. It is just such a pleasure seeing all these elements coming together.

I’ve  set a reminder on my decoder and on my cellphone for the next episode. Please do check it out you will not be disappointed. The next episode will be on channel 120 at 21H00 on Wednesday.

Top Ten Reasons why your RIM BlackBerry is a 3310.

10. The big BIS button is broke.

9. This is a loyalty test.

8. Ubersocial for blackberry and the neanderthals who use it over loaded the RIM servers.

7. Steve Jobs has nothing to do with this, but whatever. Everyone is telling big jokes about this one.

6. Desmond Tutu was praying for a better world. RIM got caught in the crossfire.

5. Loyiso Gola did it! For better jokes shem. That kid is dry!!!

4. Someone in the ANC got an executive position at RIM…this what happened on day one.

3. RIM employees are Springboks supporters…depression hit hard.

2. Al Qaeda did it. When we wake up tomorrow England will be Bungra-land.

And the number one reason why your BlackBerry is a 3310,

1. Its 60 rands! The fuck did you expect for 60 rands? Sit Down!!!

Top Ten Reasons Why The Dalia Lama won’t be coming to SA

I haven’t done a Top Ten List in a very long time, I’m out of practice. Here goes nothing.

 

Top Ten Reasons Why The Dalai Lama won’t be coming to SA

 

10. The government is Catholic and the Pope is in on it. He can’t stand this guy.

9. He has an infectious disease that will kill us all.

8. No one likes Tutu. They all want the party to suck.

7. All those with BEE/Corruption sin will have fatal diarrhoea if they stand 50 meters near him.

6. The Lama banged one of Zuma’s wives.

5. He’s old; no one wants to deal with the PR of him dying here.

4. China promised to assassinate every DA member if we kept him out.

3. He’s trying to smuggle opium into the country.

2. It’s all a rouse, he doesn’t really want to come here, he just wants to make China seem even more evil.

And the number one reason why The Dalia Lama won’t be coming to SA

1. “The Dalai Lama” is not an acceptable name on official Home Affairs documents and he refuses to give up his real name, Ping Pong Thatha Pow Oh.

As the counting draws to an end. ByeBye Local Elections

These election have opened my eyes to a few things that I guess I’ve known for a long time. The ANC is running our country and spending our taxes. They’re capable and they have resources. We give them power, we are the people. We must have opinions and we must voice them. I’m feeling like a bit of a heretic tonight. So most of the following will not be in my humble opinion. And again I say, I am not anti ANC or pro DA.

Our people are still shaken by apartheid. We’re still crippled by it. In the way we think, in the things we say, in how we act and more importantly how we fail to act.

Riding on what Allister Sparks calls “The gatvol factor”, isn’t going to win votes. Opposition parties are, and reasonably so, under the impression that people being gatvol of bad services will win them votes. The ANC has a weapon that surpasses the gatvol factor. Its called devotion.

Today someone  tweeted “Not about race? why do all white voters PROUDLY vote DA and black ppl r made to feel stupid for voting ANC w/ words like blind”. I replied to this tweet by quoting what an ANC supporter said on telly, “If u are ANC, u stay ANC. If u my brother , u stay my brother. YOU DONT JUST CHANGE AND BECOME A WOMAN”.  I can’t speak for the man who said this, but I can’t help but doubt how sober his thoughts are, drunk on devotion. People are not stupid for voting ANC, they are stupid for such utterances. The ANC is aware of such banter and does nothing to discourage. I’m willing to go as far as to say the ANC encourages it. ANC supporters are not in good company, and the ANC has no qualms with this. Don’t even get me started on the violence that nearly broke out in the Midvaal when the DA won.

The socio-economic status quo of the ANC strong-holds speak volumes of why these places are ANC strong-holds. I wonder how much the DA has done to actually try to win over these constituencies. So much effort goes into winning the money constituencies (the big metros). Does the DA really care about:

• The ANC is leading in Aganang [Moletji/Matlala] with 86.5%.
• The ANC is leading in Ba-Phalaborwa [Phalaborwa] with 82.72 %
• Blouberg The ANC is leading Blouberg [Bochum/My Darling] with 92.08%

Granted these are small municipalities, but how much does the DA care about them? I deliberately chose from constituencies in Limpopo because it’s the furthest province from the Western Cape, a DA strong hold.

Last word

A question that I should have asked myself at the beginning of the elections: How do you win votes and influence people? I have no idea. Hoping that I’ll be blogging in the next elections, I’ll open with this line.

P.S. Every election the DA gains ± 2% of votes. So in roughly ±27yrs (national and local election, ±9 elections) Jesus is coming. If you believe the words of your president. Hehe.

Politics should never be about brand loyalty.