another one (sound) bites the dust

the weekender died this past weekedend. and me and all my wildly intellectual friends couldn't quite figure out if its faliure is purely and exclusively 'credit crisis' related. or rather, and perhaps more disturbing to our delicate elitist sensibilities, the weekender's demise is symptomatic of of this new age of counter-intellectualism that seems to be grabbing hold, at least in our public discourse.

our collective appetite for sane-ness and wonderment in our public discourse is slowly and canceroulsy giving way to the easy sound-bite, which never takes any prisoners.

we are all lazy now, malema-fied and fatigued. it's easier to report and comment on julius' musings then it is not to.

we think the juxtaposition fits.

aside and ps: the only silver lining is that there is now one less platform for xolela mangcu in this universe

gypsy woman with baby

fyi, this is one of my favourite favourite art pics. reminds me of art school, when it was still so easy to learn and even easier to get inspired. it also, strangely enough, reminds of a lady from limpopo called moshale - i've always like that name, moshale.

the guy who taught us fine arts passed on, cancer. he liked modigilini, alot. he also liked water colours. okay.

the sexual diaries

new york magazine, the illest intellectual read powering through the innernets, began running the most interesting series a couple of years ago about the sexual pathology (?)of six individuals over a seven day period. they called it the sexual diaries. the brief to the participants was "to track every sexual encounter, thought, and arousal for a week". almost three years later this is still one of the most popular series of the nymag. here is an excerpt of one of the original six participants - a young female college graduate living with her roommate:


DAY 1

7:30 P.M. Best friend calls and recounts the “out-of-body experience” of her wedding-dress fitting. I am simultaneously jealous and totally grossed out.
7:50 Sister calls and makes excuses for her husband’s weirdness at dinner last night. I don’t want to have to make excuses for anyone else.
10:58 Roommate finally comes home from last night’s date. Hate her. Can’t even look at her.
11:20 Roommate catalogues every second in hot and heavy detail. Hate her more. Go to my room.
11:45 Details of roommate’s date find their way into my fantasy. Is stealing other people’s sex lives wrong? Decide it’s no worse than porn. Proceed.

DAY 2

7:15 A.M. Wonder if roommate can hear vibrator through thin wall. I can’t hear hers. Guess not.
7:35 Shower, dress. Party tonight after work. Woke up too late for cuteness.
10:08 Sister calls, gushes about some new guy to set me up with. Experience with sister tells me that a ton of compliments equals ugly.
6:00 P.M. Babysitting. Seven-year-old: “Are you married?” Jesus Christ.
7:45 Meet friend and brother. Cute brother.
8:15 I have this problem: I meet a guy and instantly gauge our potential sex life. All signs with cute brother point to a decidedly vanilla future.
9:02 Begin to drink too much.

this excerpt is from a 27 yr old student teacher, single and not getting any:




DAY 2

7:00 A.M. Try to think of the last time I had sex. Am sad when I have to use my fingers to count the months.
11:30 Read People magazine on break. Fantasize about Jonathan Rhys Meyers.
3:00 P.M. Spot hot man outside.
3:02 Abort! Man is completely unattractive up close.
5:00 Whistle “Love in an Elevator,” by Aerosmith.
9:00 Browse through personals on Craigslist and am disappointed that all of the men seem either old or disgusting.

DAY 3

8:30 A.M. Have long, inappropriate conversation with male colleague. Am proud of myself for doing as magazines say and practicing flirting on a less attractive man.
NOON Construction worker screams a comment about my ass. I yell obscenities.
2:30 P.M. Read e-mail from a one-night stand from the U.K. Is coming for a visit in May. Put in saved-box.
3:45 Who am I kidding? I respond that I would be happy to “meet up.”
6:00–11:00 Grade papers

DAY 6

1:30 P.M. Wake up.
9:00 Go to friend’s birthday dinner. Am introduced to countless friends’ new significant others.
9:03 Sit on the side with one other single girl.
10:00 Am tipsy. Begin listing reasons why I am single to a friend’s boyfriend. He sits and listens, obviously afraid to answer.
11:00 Eat my food. Ogle the waiter. Some girl I don’t know tells me that he is too blue-collar. Decide I don’t like her and think bad thoughts.


and so it continues. here's the link

this piece was as interesting as it was fonni

the super prof

it is as yogi berra said, "it's dejevu, all over again". the middle aged prof and new Principal of the university of free state swooped upon his self-identified moment of history with vigour and single-mindedness, using his immense powers of empathy, immense, he wiped the slate clean for the so-called reitz four. in doing so, super prof spat and re-spat in the faces of the victims. four women and a man, who really could have been anybody's mother or auntie sophie or malome jonas. super prof, says legal semantics prevented him from addressing the victims about his intentions. crazy, crazier. we can imagine him (super prof - he with mandelaesque powers of empathy, yes him), on the eve of his great act of magnanimity, sitting on the edge of his bed, his wife gazing at him with immense pride and admiration. super prof on his cell phone, sending out a group sms to all and sundry; "tommorrow, make sure you read the koerant, jislaaik, it will be big, huge, they will say i am like mandela, you will see. i'm going to forgive those white boys, those cleaners AND the country will be so proud of me, yo! it will be HUGE. anyways, buy the paper tomorrow." and so it went. super prof, got on stage, all decked out in ufs' finest, and announced the extent of his super powers. in one fell swoop, he interposed himself in the shoes of the victims AND the victimisers and brokered an apology to the victims made ostensibly by victimisers. super man that prof.

the irony here, is that in his zest for his very own mandela moment, super prof has indeed, inadvertently stumbled upon this much sought after moment. all he needs to do now is introduce himself and his intentions properly to the people most concerned in this whole affair. look them in the eyes and say, ladies and gentleman, i am truly sorry, i erred immensely in not consulting you, next time, i will do better.