Cameron VS Christ

Well the controversy has hit the fan as yet another hollywood heavywhite lines up to take on the great Christian argument. I am sure most of u have read about Mr James Cameron (yes...thats right Titanic director) and his supposed discovery of the crypt of Jesus Christ. Apparently 25 or so years ago this crypt was discovered in Israel and contains the coffins of people called Jesus, Mary, Joseph and even Judah - a person named as Jesus' son! Well Mr Cameron is running around like a looney giving press conferences and saying that they have DNA confirmation that this is in fact Jesus Christ and his family and this then disproves the resurrection. No i am an Agnostic and therefore it is in my nature to be sceptical...of EVERYTHING! What, prey, are they comparing these supposed DNA samples to that they can prove this is good old JC? And apparently the reason that this has all been hush hush for so long is because they were struggling to decipher the names on the coffins - but according to 'experts' the language of Jesus and his people is still easily understood and spoken today?!

To be honest i find the whole thing rather frustrating. I am not sure whether Cameron has really got anything in this documentary, but you can be certain that the church will be in arms about it, just like they were with the Da Vinci code and therefore inadvertantly give it much more publicity than it would gain ordinarily, because lets face it...there is entertainment value in the Catholic church throwing a wobbly! What everyone seems to forget is that the greatest significance of Jesus (son of God, or not) is not his ressurection or his miracles, but rather his teachings to everyone to be kinder better people. All this changing water to wine and healing the sick is just fireworks. The essence should be "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" - and no matter what any documentary reveals the message should not be undermined.

Heavy stuff i know...

gyps

RIP Marvin: 1999 - 20 February 2007

Cut down in his prime, Marvin was a car of strong character. From shady beginnings he found peace and love in Grahamstown where he met his devoted owner (moi) and the love of his life Betty the Beetle. This is her eulogy as told to Lolly: “The first cut is the deepest, and betty just can't get over Marvin. I try to point out all the shiny sports cars and hi-tech pseudo 4x4s, but she is not fooled by the sleek exteriors. She knows a real man when she sees one, and Marv was him, understated, but far superior.” At his height he carted me and my belongings back to Durban on the hottest day of the year, braving the PMB roads with his little 1300 engine. As lolly said, the first cut is the deepest. SOB! I expect all who knew and loved him to sport a black band around their arms for the duration of the mourning period. Sleep well my little friend in the big garage in the sky.

Plato’s Allegory of the Cave

Imagine prisoners who have been chained since childhood deep inside a cave. Not only are their limbs immobilised by the chains; their heads are chained as well so that their gaze is fixed on a wall.Behind the prisoners is an enormous fire, and between the fire and the prisoners is a raised walkway, along which shapes of various animals, plants, and other things are carried. The shapes cast shadows on the wall, and the prisoners watch these shadows. When one of the shape-carriers speaks, an echo against the wall causes the prisoners to believe that the words come from the shadows.The prisoners engage in what appears to us to be a game - naming the shapes as they come by. This, however, is the only reality that they know, even though they are seeing merely shadows of images.

Do you have feel like a shadow of yourself? Like a poor copy or a cheap imitation. For a long time I have been feeling like I am just this fraction of who I was. Just this shadow that holds none of the brightness and lightness of the original.

A bit of a bleak post but this is how it can feel in limbo. Especially when in the space of the new year your car and home have been broken into and your car has been written off thanks to an ass who thinks its okay to STOP in the fast lane. Kind of hard to hold on to one’s usually sprightly self.

A trip to tacky town and other things

Once more back to work - but had a nice escape this weekend from this steamy town. Went off to joburg (which is as dry as a camel’s ass but I was just thankful for no humidity) and had a lovely time. Think I just needed a little escape. And that’s what I got – a jaunt to Sandton (where I got to feel kak about myself thanks to many pieces of walking dental floss [commonly called models], but made self feel better by purchasing a Stoned Cherrie Dress.) Was also cheered by impressive Audi logo for fashion week (seen above) what greatness. On Saturday night we whizzed around Tacky Town (AKA Monte Casino) – I’m sorry but the plastic laundry on the washing lines of this “authentic” Italian town is just too much for me really – however it was enjoyed by Rory’s girlfriend Tiff, as they have nothing like that in the UK. And how beautifully odd is this? – in the middle of that towering monument to capitalism and hedonistic Western living was a wonderful little crystal shop – I mean go figure?! These to sweet whimsical old dears selling stones to cure every human problem, and talking to you in soft, reassuring tones, amid the wailing sirens of casino wins, and wailing patrons of casino losses. Was very odd – but I purchased something anyway. A worry stone of amethyst that is meant to relax you when you rub it. I believe fervently in these things until I write about them or have to tell someone about it and then I feel like a kook.

So the little brother (hmmm) has gone back. It is sad when suddenly it is just accepted that your little family will never live in the same house again. Its like Zach Braff says in Garden State: “You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? That idea of home is gone. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."

Okay much love

gypsy child

Thank God its Friday – oh now wait its actually only Tuesday and tomorrow is the day of greetings card punishment!

So today has been a day of cards and hearts and roses. Have become office bitch and am deep etching and gray scaling many a happy couple for my non design literate colleagues, so that they can have personalised love tokens to give to the person of their choice. Wow - totally making this loathsome holiday easier looking at the smiling satisfied faces of your co workers and their significant others. Corporate shite Holiday (this shall remain my official position until a large truck fulled with roses, balloons and scrubs dvds pulls up outside my office).

Anyway moving on…Oh god, last week when I went to get my cousin’s hen party presents I crossed swords with a chauvinist bastard clicks employee. You see I got her a necklace from woollies (good old standby that it is) and this lovely sari sarong thing for her honeymoon in Mozambique, and then I thought well it is a hen party so I went to clicks to get her some of that saucy durex lube. I get to the till and I thought fuck this no point in being embarrassed - well the dude behind the till eyed me like I was a stripper or something, and then as I was walking away the ass says to me in this dirty voice - I hope u enjoy that! wow was so tempted to go into a Keighley-like rant about the rights of women to express their sexuality but decided to hold my tongue, skeef him and walk out - urg pig man! The thing is I am sure that it would have been a waste of breath as he probably would never have had any idea why he had offended me in the first place…

Last nite went to Billy the Bum’s for dinner (such a good burger and beer for R35, plus can wear slops – highly recommended) tried to get hold of dear old design sammy but alas she was not picking up. Afterwards me rory, tiff and a whole lot of his mates went to Suncoast… Oh dear, lost R200 (which I SO do not have) playing black jack – but it is so much fun man. I just love the whole “hit me” vibe (hmmmm). Very cool – even if Sun coast is a bit on the tacky side. Oh well.

Enough for now
love

Western traditions

Hi there fan club. Well sorry I have been MIA for so long but families have a way of doing that to you. There have been dinners and lunches, and hair appointments and wedding preparations and eyebrow waxes, and on top of that I am still going to work and I got a cold. So I hope I am forgiven (by the two readers who frequent this site – he he) All is good and well in my world though. The wedding was a fairytale affair and my cousin seemed to glow throughout which is kinda the whole point. Most amusing when she threw the bouquet and it managed to land in her gran’s lap despite the fact that she wasn’t trying to catch it…saucy minx! As is wedding custom there was an excess of watery eyed single woman, all thinking “I’ll never get married” and a handful of lusty single men all trying to get into the bridesmaids dresses – ah the joys of western “tradition”. Catch up soon.
h

wotalotigot

My family is descending upon us and Durban seems much smaller now that the Bonds are heading this way. We have stocked up on all the booze necessary for a dysfunctional family holiday (why is it that by their very nature families are so horrifying?) don’t get me wrong, I do love them dearly, and strangely families have that ability, along with all their oddities to make you feel safe, and normal. So it will be an interesting couple of weeks to say the least, and all I really have to concern myself with is not going to work with too many hangovers, and dodging the flying insults – its all fun and games until someone loses an eye, or so they say.

So not much going on on the working side of things…Been wondering about my colleagues (as you do). There is this one person (gotta work the anonymity angle here people) who is very nice, but totally monotone (do u get me). You know just flat, takes everything in *its* stride and never gets ruffled. Seems to have no real interests and in fact nothing to say, and I just wonder you know, in everyone there has got to be some abnormality – and so if you have this perfect social mask that never slips, what is lurking underneath. Now I am not talking axe wielding, dress wearing serial killer Norman Bates types, but more like maybe enjoying a good old spanking (eek), better yet a golden shower or perhaps something as mundane as only eating smarties in even numbers. Well the smartie thing isn’t that great, but I would certainly pay to know other peoples funny little secrets (and now I bet you are wondering what mine are??? – I promise it is none of the above, although I like to leave purple and blue smarties til last because they are pretty, and I always eat the brown ones first because they are boring). Strange thoughts for a Thursday afternoon I am sure, but that is what is running through my warped little head today.

Nostalgia isn't what it used to be

So I am now part of the South African tradition: I have been broken into and had people I don't know rumage through my underwear draw, make of with my most prized possesions (damn jewellery for being so sentimental) and generally scare the shit out of me. Thats right: we had a break in! And here's where the nostalgia comes in: 10 years in our house and not an incident...its silly but i have never been a nervous person, despite the ridiculous crime rate. Stupidly enough I still believed it happened to other people. But alas I am other people. Sorry to anyone who spoke to me yesterday: i was practically packing my bags and leaving the country that nite :) never under estimate the hysteria of two women (me and my mom) scorned by baddies... Anyway shit has calmed down and we have resolved to get a big Fuck Off scary black dog and start setting the alarm (duh), and are putting the imigration plans on hold...until next time :(

So here is the question i pose to you today...Is it possible to feel nostalgic about something you didn't experience? I am listening to Tiny Dancer (sorry...still not over it) and thinking of that scene in Almost Famous *SIGH* I was totally born in the wrong era - I do not want to follow Eminem around the countryside thank you very much, or the Backstreet Boys (ick). Well I am in good company, Mr Dave Grohl from the Foos also gets all nostalgic from this song (although i don't know what he is getting al misty eyed about - the bastard has his own fucking groupies) and did quite an amusing version of it, a sort of tribute to Cameron Crowe. Anyway anyone wanting to hear it, ask and thou shalt recieve (in the form of an e-mail)

In other exciting news: One more sleep until my brother gets here. Yay! Will not be at work tomorrow (whoop whoop) as will be fetching the little bastard from the airport. Who said families don't have benefits?