Mental Perambulations

Mario

2011-08-05T18:02:00.006+01:00

Sat down to a late lunch at the Nando's opposite King's Cross and shortly they're playing Franco's Mario.

Now, I was never a huge fan mainly because I was too young to appreciate the music. But like most miros living away from home, anything that reminds me of home sets my heart fluttering. Can't get images of old timers dancing to this and Kofi's Loi at Daytona, out of my head.

I haven't heard anything sound so beautiful in a long while. Great start to the weekend.

Speaking of which, off to get it started.

Weight Gains and The Human Stain

2011-08-05T00:30:00.006+01:00

Low point. Finally clambering onto a scale this morning. Shock and horror - 62 bloody kgs! Now that might not seem a lot but I’m not exactly big-boned so I can’t even use that excuse. Mostly boobage though coz I’m one of those thin girls with the boobs of a fat chick plopped on their chests. Told my instructor about the weight gain and before I knew it, I was signed up for boot-camp starting Tuesday morning. How I’m supposed to drag myself into Central London for a 7.30 class I’m not sure, but it’s time to knuckle down and get the gym thing done properly. None of this half-assed once-twice a week visits.

Highlight of my day – catching Philip Roth's The Human Stain on TV just as I was about to turn in. Probably the only readable thing he’s ever written. Didn't even know they'd turned it into a movie. Made Zuckerman almost twenty years younger, not that I mind staring at Gary Sinise’s pretty face.

Movie didn't do the book any justice.

Shit that I don’t understand ...

2011-07-31T21:52:00.006+01:00

The British Govt. and 31 other countries establishing diplomatic relations with the Libyan revolutionary committee in Benghazi.

Now here’s the bit I don’t understand. Gaddafi’s still in control of virtually half the country and doesn't show any intention of stepping down, Britain’s efforts at removing him seem unfocused and disjointed so not expecting much result there and the revolutionary movement doesn’t seem to have a coherent plan or voice. So what’s the basis for this recognition? Is the hope that Gaddafi will get miffed at being left out and pack it in? We’ve been here before and it went on for close to ten years. Libya could very well continue to exist in this limbo, with Gaddafi controlling one half of the country and the revolutionary forces the other for an indefinite amount of time.

Britain and its allies in this, need to either commit to routing him themselves or get out of Libya altogether 'coz the current plan - if you can call it that - ain't working.

Totally Random

2011-01-29T02:41:00.014Z

It used to be that the cops would take criminal suspects to Ngong' forest, remove their handcuffs, order them to start running and promptly shoot them in the back the minute they put one foot in front of the other. They would then spin us some yarn about suspects ‘escaping from custody’. Then they graduated to dragging suspects out of their cars, into the bushes and out of sight of passing traffic and putting bullets through their heads. And again we would hear long stories of attempts to escape from custody. Now they’ve completely dispensed with the pretence; they’re shooting them in broad daylight and in full sight of the whole country. Now that’s progress. A week later and I still haven’t figured out how a man lying face-down on the ground, with his hands behind his head can ‘return fire’. The mind boggles.

In neighbouring Uganda, the 'rolling stones' editor reckons it’s not his and his rag’s fault that some nutter went after David Kato with a hammer. His argument is that all he wanted was for “the government to hang people who promote homosexuality, not for the public to attack them ….We said they should be hanged, not stoned or attacked”. That’s alright then.

If it turns out that the 'rolling stones' publication had something to do with David Kato's death then they have to take some responsibility for that. They might not have called the crazy dude up and asked him to do what he did, but the world is full of nutters wielding hammers and we do have a certain responsibility not to give them a reason to use them.

And while we're on the subject, we have to move on from this obsession we have with homosexuality. Who we choose to shag is nobody else's business but ours; not the government's, not the general public's and certainly not the media's. Our sexual preferences are not what’s “ravaging the moral fabric of our nation”. Look to the leaders who wilfully keep the country in ignorance and poverty for that.

In other news, if Mr. Mutharika has his way, it’ll soon be an offence to fart in public in Malawi. Apparently, the Malawian government in a bid to 'mould responsible and disciplined citizens', plans to punish persistent offenders 'who foul the air'. I’m sorry, what? You have Chinese ‘investors’ running amok in the country, buying up anything that hasn’t been nailed down, 70% of hospital beds taken up by HIV sufferers and an indigent population perpetually on the brink of starvation and you have time for this? Un-fucking-believable. Feels like a bad joke.

And in terms of practicalities, exactly how do they propose to enforce this? And can you really legislate against natural bodily functions? I might be wrong but I think there’s something fundamentally unconstitutional about this. And someone should tell Mr Mutharika that it’s not a nation’s ability to hold its collective fart that marks it as civilized. Ask the British, they should know.

Speaking of misguided African rulers, when did Tsuma pick up the rudiments of the English language? Last time I checked, it was being bandied around that he was little more than a semi-literate, HIV-denying Neanderthal. I watched him respond to questions regarding Mandela’s health and part of me was rather impressed. Perhaps even a little proud. What d’you know, you can teach an old dog new tricks.

While we’re on the subject, I'm chaffed to bits about Madiba. I must say the news that he’d been taken to hospital almost had me in tears. Not sure why but I suppose it’s because the man’s very existence is an inspiration. There’s something inherently good in that mzee. There’s also the fact that he looks more and more like my grand-dad with each passing day.

The highlight of my week though was watching Ed Balls trying to do a 180 degree on his previous contention that we didn’t actually need to make such drastic cuts, to get ourselves out of the crap he and his lot dumped us in. Watching him squirm on Andrew Neil’s Politics Show, I just couldn’t get the image of a cornered rat out of my head.

And then there was George Osborne trying to blame the bad weather for last quarter’s poor results. Priceless. Maybe it’s me but I think there’s a problem with a Chancellor who chooses to use the word ‘flattish’ in his assessment of economic growth. I reckon it’s our just desserts for electing these gits.

Watching Egypt with interest this week. I do hope though that they learn from Tunisia. Helps to have a plan before you get the revolution all fired up, otherwise you end up with the same twats you were trying to rout. All the very best to them and here's hoping it spreads a little South.

How Goes The Referendum?

2011-01-09T23:12:00.010Z

My thoughts and prayers are with our neighbours to the north today.

I hope that their wishes will be respected.

I hope that the secession works out for them.

I hope they make a better fist of self-determination than we have.

I hope they'll hold Salva Kiir and their leadership to a higher standard than most of us in Sub-Saharan Africa have done with our leaders.

I hope that they have the good sense to learn from us and the courage to tell those who might be tempted to play off one tribe against the other, for their own selfish interests, to bugger off.

Having said that, I think that after a 22-year civil war, the South Sudanese people have certainly earned the right to fuck up their own country as most of us have ours.

Seriously though, I wish our brothers and sisters in South Sudan all the very best. God knows that after all the lives lost and all the misery they've had to endure, they deserve nothing less.

Happy New Year to Me!

2011-01-06T00:04:00.004Z

Yeah I know, here I go again trying to flog a horse that’s well and truly dead. A bit futile seeing as I have a pretty good idea how this is gonna end; with me too bloody pre-occupied with other things to string a post together. Oh well, let’s see how far I can push this old jalopy before it sputters and dies yet again.

So I’m stoked about the New Year. Last year was a bit shit. I had more crap kicked in my face than I’ve ever had to deal with before. Left me a little punch-drunk, a little unsteady on my feet. My optimism, sense of humour and patience took quite a serious beating. But I seem to have acquired nerves of steel and a rather thick hide.

So why am I so psyched about 2011? See, I reckon life can’t get any shittier. Then again with my luck it just might. But I’m a tougher broad now. I’ll just roll up my sleeves and make a fist.

So here’s to a year of naked navel-gazing. If I manage 12 posts in the next year I’ll be happy. This is me managing my own expectations.

MAYBE IT’S SWINE FLU

2009-07-23T22:26:00.006+01:00

So I’m having a pretty weird day. Started out brilliant, got even better and now I’m stuck in bed with a thermometer rammed down my trap by a supposedly caring flat-mate. I think he’s trying to get me back for something. Don’t know what but my abused mouth sure feels like I’m being punished.

Then again it could be God’s way of making me pay attention for dissing him at lunch today. If the dude wasn’t all omnipotent, omnipresent and all that other omni shit he wouldn’t have heard me blaspheme. How else do you explain a perfectly healthy, chirpy woman in good health and humour feeling the way I do. One minute I’m prancing around all bright eyed and bushy tailed and the next I'm calling for the sick bucket.

My head hurts, my bones ache, my eyes can barely stay open and I’m so cold and tired. And no it’s not the onset of old age. My appetite’s gone and I’m a few seconds away from upchucking my Italian lunch. I feel awful.

So here’s the diss. I get into this whole crime and punishment argument with a friend and me and my big mouth start spouting the merits of capital punishment. I figure that you know we can’t really depend on the Almighty to bring about swift judgment. That whole judgement day thing doesn’t work fast enough to suit me and as much as Karma is a bitch she tends to take her time too hence the need to have the state step in and take over the retribution end of things. Only I’m not just thinking this; I’m saying it out loud. I’m actually accusing the big Kahuna of tardiness in dispensing his responsibilities. No way I was gonna get away with that.

Next thing I know, my flat mate’s leaning over me wielding a thermometer like a machete -well maybe not a machete (forgot to mention that I was feeling a little delirious too) – making all these sympathetic noises, but I can see through him. He’s probably praying that I don’t have swine flu and ruin his weekend away with his boys.

Yep. I Probably deserve to feel like shit.

On a different note, going ‘80s disco roller skating tomorrow at the 02. I’m probably gonna spend half the time on my ass and the other half on my face. I expect I shall come out of it bloodied, covered in cuts and bruises and will most probably fracture a limb or two and knowing my luck possibly break my tail bone. But you know what? I’ll have the time of my life.

Got neon pink legwarmers and tights for it. Still contemplating a pink polka dot head band and pink wrist bands. Left it a little too late to get a tutu though. Can’t wait.

P.S. Am I the only person who bursts into laughter every time Rasheed Young walks into the scene in Run’s House and his title appears right below his name: President: Run Athletics. Man, talk about incongruous.

Gets me every bloody time.

Gotta go.

I Love Reality TV

2009-07-12T23:15:00.010+01:00

I’ve just watched a dude try to sell a stick on American Inventor. Yeah, you heard me, a stick. The dude bounced into the room looking all excited and shit, armed with this whittled crooked-ass stick, looked like he’d just picked it up from his back yard or off the street and proceeded to spin some spiel about a walking buddy. A walking buddy! Get this, this walking buddy is supposed to be real handy in warding off bears. Yep, bears. So I’m sitting here thinking, ok maybe it’s me but you know that seems just a little redundant in NYC. You know seeing as …. oh, I don’t know, there aren’t any random bears wandering the streets of Manhattan; are there?

So the judges are sitting there gaping at the unmitigated cheek of it all, and the dude gets this flash bulb moment so bright you can literally see the lights go on behind his beady eyes. Looking at Mary Lou Quinlan, the only female judge on the panel, he launches into a long-winded sales pitch of how his stick (at this point the judges have for their own amusement and that of the viewers back at home changed the product name from the rather unedifying 'stick' to 'wand') would be useful to millions of women in America and around the world. You know in keeping rapists, muggers, pickpockets and all sorts of ne’er-do-wells out of our faces. Forget the pepper spray, the karate classes; let’s just haul ourselves back into the pre-historic ages.

Twit!

So here’s my beef with this brilliant idea, have you seen the size of the handbags I have to haul around everyday already? Have you seen the shit I have to pack into my bag every morning? I know I’m not trying to pack a stick in there with my lip gloss, hair brush and all my other shit. There’s simply no room.

Dude was actually pissed off that the judges weren’t taking him seriously. I say he’s lucky he got past the front doors. Left muttering something about bears in Alaska under his breath and I'm sitting there thinking, "come off it even in Alaska, especially in Alaska, the bears expect you to put up a half-decent fight." No simple waving of sticks in their faces for any self-respecting bonafide grizzly. If the movies are to be believed you need a pan to go with the stick.

Tsk! crack baby, that’s for sure.

You think that’s nuts, dude before him comes in with this idea of a portable toilet. No, not the kind that’s delivered when you have a shindig and the thought of people trooping all over your newly polished wooden floors to get to the toilets makes you sick. Ah ah, not that one. It’s never that straightforward when you’re dealing with loonies. His is some kind of black polythene-bag looking suit bag (looks like a bin liner) you unleash on unsuspecting by-standers when you want to take a wee and there’re no toilets around.

So check this out: you’re supposed to unfurl this big paper bag - sorry toilet bag, slip it over your head, smooth it down and proceed to relieve your bladder into a built in pocket. I suppose you would need to work out the front from the back first. All that fumbling around looking for the kapocket might have people staring; if the whole ‘man slipping into a bag’ thing doesn’t get their attention first. After you’re done (remember to shake), step out of the bag – gingerly, I would imagine- taking care to zip or cork the pocket first, roll it up again and walk around with it until you get to a toilet and empty it.

I know they say that when a dude has to go he has to go but c’mon this is taking it to another level altogether; a rather disturbingly self-indulgent level.

Oblivious to the grimaces around him, he even tried to demonstrate the female version of it complete with a detachable pocket for ease of use. The judges baulked at this and he was promptly shown the door but not before he’d given us all a sneak preview. I feel violated by the little I saw.

So there you go; my first blog back. Jai Ho!

PS: What is it about Tears for Fear’s version of Mad World? Beautiful.