A lil bit of HATE!!

Technically, I don't like hating unless its deserved, but I deleted a number of people from my Facebook friends' list and I think you deserve to know why:

• Looking through your wall, I just saw bitterness and bitchiness. That’s not in the list of things I’d like to experience, online or offline.
• Looking through your pics, I see you have a propensity for taking pictures without your shoes on. I like the socks, but I’m afraid the tendency might be telling of a psychological disorder I’d not like to be part of. I like the grass/countryside background though.
• Looking at your profile picture album, I see the same four sample pictures that came with an outdated version of windows. I was so awed by your originality, I mistakenly clicked “ignore”. And now I just can’t seem to recognize which profile is yours.
• Looking at your profile, I see one of your updates was who care’s. I took the advice when I read another update saying let's be the end of us. I was very concerned when under the work section I saw “I am STUNDET” and in the high school section “I am THOUGH”
• Looking at your profile picture, need I mention your only profile picture, I suddenly realized you, a guy, recently appeared in an obscure female teen model site from an equally obscure country. I have no problem with the obscurity you operate in, but I have a policy against having famous people as friends.
• Looking at your profile picture, need I mention your only profile picture, I must say you have awesome legs. I’m just wondering why that’s all I can see. Is it the better half? Does it mean you like walking all over people? I think you’re too deep and cryptic to know on social media. Lets meet during one of these public cause walks. Come to think of it, I remember you asked me whether I was a model when you added me. Me? A model? Awww, shucks, how perceptive of you.
• Looking through your profile, I must say I’m dying to see you in a pose that’s anything natural. Your lips are dashing but its too bad they filled up the screen and can’t be seen in perspective. Your favourite quotation is “so what”. So what if we’re not friends? Good to know you “kEeP iT FieRCe” tho.
• Looking through your info section, I am deeply moved and amazed at your revolutionary political stand “we need trustworthy readers”. Your depth is even more perceptible in your stand that “no quote is a cliche unless you take things for granted”. I completely identify. From the shape of your mouth, I will not underestimate your prowess at proclaiming where you are from by your accent. Your name doesn’t help much.
• Looking through your profile, I notice your profile picture says you’re single. As in literary. Your last update says “im single and lonelly....inbox”. One word for you, Mig33. I was afraid of looking at your info section. 17 mutual friends? This is why I need to do this more often. I’d have deleted them as well but the first one happened to be my ex’s current and that would just seem jealously bitchy.
• Looking through your profile, I notice you’re friends with Fundi Mbengo. I don’t know him. This has nothing to do with your profile pic. Especially that third one. I just instinctively checked to see if my wallet was still here.
• Looking through your profile, I notice you have 2 fathers and 1 mother. And your were born in 1994. Who the hell was born in 1994? Wait, that means you’re 17? Time does fly. Add me after 4 years when you’ve done a DNA test to establish who you’re from.
• Looking through your profile, I notice you have 4,000 friends. 

I hate statistics. Apparently, 70% of the are made up on the spot.

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Early Monday Morning Rant

You know what I find impressive? That a perfect stranger can hold my concentration in chat for more than 6 hours without the conversation straying to that annoying topic of sex. Like going to the gym, its a fantastic thing to do but a lousy thing to talk about. I found that positively invigorating.

Sadly, part of my life has to do with a community where few people are capable of actually engaging in social discourse for the sake of getting to know each other without discussing the very finite possibilities of what can go on in the bedroom. This is in stark contrast with the aesthetic qualities of the said community. Yes, I went there.

Moving on, the weekend was cold and wet, which inevitably made me think about love, and how it tends to dull the senses - blinds the eyes and insulates the skin from cold. I could use some, or just buy some chocolate and make myself a hot cup of coffee. Yep, I think that will work - the chocolate, not the love.

So here comes the work week, that 5-day break in between weekends. This is an important week, at the end of it I get paid, and I also make some life altering changes to my life. Wish me luck.

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Droid Sleep

I've never understood how I sleep, those moments of temporary extinction as H.G. Wells so aptly put it. 

I constantly hear of people who suffer from insomnia or other sleep related problems. I don't. I can sleep on top of a concert speaker playing heavy metal........I've slept in Carnivore during one of those rowdy music sessions. I can also sleep under a 100 watt bulb, even a blinking one. 

All I need to fall asleep is to decide that I'm sleeping. I used to say I have a contract with sleep, for which I can quickly get an order of specific performance via a quia timet (legal jargon for anticipatory) injunction under a certificate of urgency, so to speak.

And my sleep is always deep and satisfying.....the only thing capable of giving me less than perfect sleep is a tooth ache.

The flip side of this equation is that any occurrence within my sensory range which threatens my person (and for a paranoid person, that's a whole lot of shit) suffices to wake me from blissful slumber. Every time anyone so much as touches the handle to my bedroom door, my ears and eyes snap to attention, you know like the way a cats ears almost psychically flick towards those tiny sounds that only cats should be concerned about. I guess that's a good thing, especially given that I instantly fall back to sleep once the "threat" is past.

The more puzzling weird thing about my sleep is that my ears seem to record everything that goes on in my sleep and then plays it back in fast forward just before I wake. I wake up to the memories of the auditory aspects of the nights happenings, almost without fail. Freaky, right? 

Amongst the weird things my ears have been "privy" to while I'm asleep is various discussions about me by people who "know" me to be asleep at the time. I've even overheard the heartbreaking phone conversations of someone I thought was (should have been) attracted to me until I overheard them on phone describing their "type" (I was not remotely within that description).

So the question is, do I really sleep or do I just think I'm asleep? But so long as I'm rested the following day, who cares? Right? They say you can't survive an extended period of time without REM sleep, and since I'm alive (technically), that means I do get that kind of sleep. Again, right?

I don't believe in taken longer than 20 minutes to write an inspired post, and yet within that time, some quick Internet research has informed me that my (hitherto) unspoken theory is well founded.  Don't you just love how humanity's collective knowledge and belief is accessible to any research savvy person with Internet access? 

Anyway, it would appear that (obviously) your ears still hear everything as usual and send this information to the brain which then discriminatively decides which of these sounds it will transmit to the conscious part of the mind. That's how you get to wake up to the louder sounds. 

Since you hear everything, the brain wakes you based on a library collection of which kind of sounds should be a concern of the conscious mind and which should not. In my case, physical proximity of unauthorized persons (my exes and some of my bedmates seem to be allowed to enter my room without waking me) ranks highly among the things to be processed consciously.

It also makes sense that my subconscious would remember everything it's heard and that my conscious mind would have access to these memories but in a de ja vu sort of way. Until I'm convinced otherwise, that's the explanation I'm going with. It's either I accept that or I start to believe that I'm schizophrenic and that I don't actually sleep but that another personality simply takes over at night.

Wow. Finally a post that has some research going into it. There's hope for me yet.

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50 Posts Later: Taking Stock

Today I have decided to take stock of my blog, for no apparent reason except common vanity and typical self involvement.

I started it in a huff in November 2010 with three posts in one month. After that I could have sworn (without the debilitating thought that lightning would come out of God's black and blue sky and smite me in the nether regions for swearing falsely) that I did not have a blog until some creepy young man came out of the woodwork and made me develop it into a habit. Creepy amazing young man. Few can influence habit in me, I am, admittedly, profoundly stubborn.

So on 24th April 2011, this journey begun again and I have consistently written at between 3 and 9 posts every darn week from that day. This week I felt inspired to beat the 9 post record, but after posting this, I need two more just to reach that record. And from past experience (as though experience could relate to anything other than the past) I don't do much posting over the weekend. So who's this who says I don't have a life?

My favourite posts are those written at the height of emotional distress (and for me, mental agony over a hurting knee can be regarded as emotional distress since I hardly take more material matters to heart). But strangely it would appear that the audience thinks otherwise. Now, having configured blogger statistics to not account for my own page views, the few stats on my page relate to external views only. This also means that the popular posts are also some sort of poll on what has been read the most.

Blogs???? That's the all time most popular? Freaky weird taste. And how did De Ja Beau rise to top 10 position overnight? At least the latter I'm proud of. The former was just me lashing out at my perceived emotional nature of the few blogs I was privy to. I have since learnt the devious nature of blogs and its ability to turn into an emotional upload opportunity.

My all time favourite posts - in no particular order are "the Selected Seven" (a shortlist of the TV characters who have most inspired me), "Chemistry: Table of Elements" (the post was inadvertently deleted but I converted it to a page), "Emotional Roadblocks (my first ever passionate post and auto-expose)", "Judges without Verdict" (a topic close to my heart), "8 classes of gay men" (not my own work) and "the Most Peculiar People I Know" (a shortlist of my most outstanding, not necessarily dearest, friends).

As promised, the topics are erratic and none of them deal with the "important" issues in society today. Its a blog, not a freaking magazine. I am not ashamed. At least 70% of the posts are born of some form of inspiration while the balance is made up on well thought out place fillers. There are a few rants, simply because I'm not perfect.

So there it is. My Blog. And after all this time I still have little idea of how long I will be able to maintain it before settling for two posts per year or altogether abandoning it.

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De Ja Beau

Ever had that de-ja-beau feeling? Don't know what that is? It's when you suddenly realize that a few seconds before, you'd seen a pretty person but were too absent minded to take in all the detail. So you look round frantically trying to locate them. I get them all the time when I'm on the road or in malls. I hate it when that de-ja-beau feeling turns out to be false i.e. they turn out not to really good looking after all.

Stop looking for meaning. There's no particular point to this post.

I've had a random discussion with a bright mind just recently on a most interesting topic - me! Until today, I've been going around thinking I'm a realist, turns out I'm a realist leaning to pessimism! I always knew my cynicism would sell me out one day. 

Even my boss knows I'm a cynic. This one time I was going to get a performance evaluation and the first thing my boss says when I walk in is "You don't always have to be a cynic". I disagree, cynicism has it's place.....in everything. I disagree with Desiderata on that one - being cynical about love is only practical.

Having done lots of accounts, I've internalized the prudence concept - provision for expenses beforehand and don't ever account for revenue before receipt. Elsehow said, take worst case at cost, and best case at NBV (net book value for those who didn't do or pass any accounts exams). But I also do believe that there is hope, that the light at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily an oncoming train, or the pearly gates.

I like to judge people from sheer intuition, without being prejudiced by facts.

Some people are pissed not so much because they have it bad but because so many others have it just as good.

Blogs are from the devil - what else single handedly derives such inspiration from anger and hate?

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Stuff Yoda says

Yoda once said "Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose" and "fear (of loss) is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. And hate leads to suffering" and "the dark side clouds everything, impossible to see, the future is". Basically, the little green old man was saying attachment is pure evil that complicates everything. And he's not the only one. Some half-wit wise-ass said "if you love some(thing)one, let them go. If they come back, they were yours to begin with. If they don't come back [get yourself a rowdy bunch of them muscle types and go beat the crap out of them].

Showing affection is a good thing, but once you get attached, the inevitable flaw in humanity rears its dashingly conniving head. "The heart of man is deceitful, and desperately wicked, who can know it?" says the good book. Trusting in humanity, the kind of trust that leads to some degree of dependence, is something that must be avoided unless inevitable (and if inevitable then its not a matter of trust, but rather lack of choice).

Love for personal gratification is a game, a game which once won loses its lustre and gives way to what Ghandi called "pleasure without conscience". I most certainly believe in love, but only in two shades - love born of sacrifice, and love born of convenience. The former is a choice, with little to do with emotion. The latter is emotion, bridled by reason, and almost always entails nothing more than reciprocal affection, not attachment, and if ever the latter, then born of habit subject always to adverse choice.

And nausea kept me company all 10 minutes I was writing this.

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What I want in my bedroom

Before I get to what I want in my bedroom, let me mention the things I appreciate about a weekend:

1. Sleep. One of the most constrained activities during the week is sleep. This whole unnatural business of telling your body when to wake up must be met with equal and opposing force during the weekend, and by this I mean sleep until your body is pissed off.

2. Friends. I never get to see enough of them during the week and as cool as my workmates are, there are parts of my social well being that they do not stimulate at all. So a friend or two will do, with just that little bit of compromise on preferred activities in order to accommodate them.

3. TV. Watching TV during the week is a highly controlled activity, much like medication.During the weekend, I need to get fed up watching telly so that, come Monday morning, its all out of my system.

4. Eye candy. One of the tragedies of being me is that official wear does nothing to enhance the aesthetic value of those few mortals who I get to see on a daily basis. Even if it did, I have a very small selection to choose from and that, invariably, has disappointed me. So over the weekend, I like to get an eye-full of beauty, keeps me from enjoying them post-apocalyptic horrors too much.

5. The Road. Travel during the week is a necessary inconvenience due to traffic and time constraints. During the weekend (or at night) however, hitting the road with no urgent destination is completely relaxing to me. I've always found inspiration from motion (not that kind, wipe the smirk off your face) and the road gives me one of those rare opportunities.

If you think that picking a cute friend from out of town and going home to watch TV in bed with them would sort me out then you don't know exactly how choosy I am about who gets to be my friend, what constitutes good looks, who can get into my bed and exactly how far I'd be willing to go to get such a person.

So what happens when I have a lousy weekend? Well, the road needs some sort of inspiration (and company and fuel). Eye candy is a tricky one,  where to find them and how long I can enjoy the scenery before it becomes creepy is not an exact science.

TV needs resources, namely movies and series I haven't watched to the point of nausea, and such few script writers and directors can hold my attention long enough. Friends can be sucky at times, either by not being available, or not getting the idea behind the road, eye candy and TV interest I have.

Sleep, on the other hand, is within my complete control. But at times I am unfaithful to my bed, by leaving it for TV, eye candy, the road or friends, at times by bringing strangers to it.

The conclusion is simply this, I need a TV in my bedroom, and posters of beautiful people, and enough credit to chat to my friends....occasionally about the road.

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Now that's creativity

I've been watching a mini series by my favourite director/producer.

Most good series are to be savoured on face value, with nothing deep or lasting to be learnt from them. Think of awe inspiring Heroes (first two seasons at least), rib cracking Boston Legal, suspense filled 24 or the Event. But trust this director/producer to weave something different.

One interesting thing about this series is that it covers multiple generations with one concept. It spans five consecutive decades and four different generations, and centers on three separate families and yet one continuing event. It develops the story from absolute mystery to (less absolute) conclusions.

The 9 episodes of the series have an intermittent narrator who sheds light on the prevailing theme of the episode. The narrator is a little girl and, though unclear to the unsuspecting until the latter episodes, the story is about the birth of this one girl.

Sadly for most, the genre is not acceptable. Science Fiction has never been the forte of the unimaginative.

In latter episodes, the grand children of the main characters in the first episodes contemplate the attitudes and actions of their grandparents. For the viewer, this generational leap has the effect of making you feel as though you are not subject to the constraints of time. Characters who were alive to you days or hours before are not being regarded as part of a past which cannot be fully understood. Very intriguing.

Also related to this concept is that across the time-lines, you are compelled to choose favourite characters and see them die of old age only to be replaced by their children, or grand children. You also get to see the effect of the prejudices of the 'father' on the 'children' and how people end up being the monsters they always thought their parents were.

The mini series also pulls an amazing colour depiction of the times. Starting in the 1940s where we all "know" life was almost in black and white to the very colourful present generation, hue is used to give an almost subliminal feel of the times.

The mini series gives such a surreal perspective on time. Personally it haunts me with the same nameless questions that accrue from the concept of immortality and eternity.

The mini series is Taken - a Steven Spielberg production. The surreality of the effect on me is heightened by the concept of a civilization, remote from our concept of morality, culture, science and technology, and by the fact that despite this civilization being responsible for the continuing event in the series, there is no personal interaction with it.

My favourite character? Jacob Clarke - unemotional and yet not cold, profoundly intriguing.

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Place irrelevant heading here

I had a dream. One of those funny ones about finding love. I smiled cynically, you know one of those smiles which is just that little bit tilted to one side. But of course one must never interrupt a dream, fears and hopes may be illusions, but they energize the soul and inspire the mind. I forget the details of the dream, but that's ok, you know I'm a firm believer in the devil being in the details.

Productivity is at an all time low this week. I'm not busy. I've heard a few inspired moments of productivity but no emergencies seem to have scheduled themselves for this week so I'm lacking the inspiration that only that last minute has.

What's the point of this post? None, really. I once heard that old people don't bother making points, there's no point to it. But....

I was thinking the other day about my weekends. I think I've been going down the wrong path. All this started when I briefly entertained the thought that anyone else other than me could be right. You see, my friends are normal, to a certain extent. They do normal fun weekend stuff, and they thought it would be good for me to try the same. Terrible idea. I get frustrated by the things that tickle other people's fancy (PS, if this is what triggers your understanding of my blog title, GET OUT. You're lost. And you must have missed out on a lot I said).

I did only one interesting thing this weekend - I read a novel at a mall while looking at the eye candy. Out of more than two hours of "reading", I only covered 10 pages - lots of eye candy. I think I need to be doing that more often. The more I look at beautiful people, the less vain I feel.

So I've decided to "tweak" my weekends. It's all about me, isn't it? I mean, I spend my week working for myself and for others, so let me spend the weekend entertaining myself, right? Actually, don't answer that, its rhetorical. I have a few ideas about what to do over the next few weekends. And since I'm psychic, I know that chief amongst them will be to snap at people who tell me to "have a life" or "live a little".

I've been reading a 100 year old novel and watching a mini series that spans 50 years. I think there's one or two things about them that can be shared here.

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Early Sunday Rant - Please Do Not Read

Time is the yin and the yan of love, simultaneously it's greatest desire and it's greatest undoing.

No, this is not a love post, just a thought that crossed my mind this Sunday morning. Those in love crave for time with their loved one, and yet it's time that eventually is their undoing. Til death do us part? In this day and age, it's more like til time do us part.

Ever feel like life is a treadmill? Clocking miles but only hypothetically? Covering vast distances but the view doesn't change? Like jumping off is the way to freedom? Well, I don't have that feeling. My life's been very dynamic these last few years but I always wonder what life will feel like when the plateau phase reaches. Well, I have years to find out, and with any luck, decades. Wealth does many wonders, including the illusion of dynamism.

Steven Spielberg is a genius. I think I need to watch a boring movie of his.

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The Most Peculiar People I Know

I've known a few weird people in my life. In no particular order of peculiarity or affection, they are:

1. Mr. Nice - this guy is so nice that I had try to find people who could hate him. As in everyone likes this guy, like some juju charm working over him. To this day I haven't found anyone who doesn't just adore him. It's so freaking annoying but I can't bring myself to hate him either. Not that I have any reason to, but I like being different, I hate the idea that I, like every other jack, fits into some cosmic emotional template. Loveable guy, this one.

2. Drama King - this guy is so blatantly attracted to drama that he almost salivates when he see something happening. Like a "hulk" but for the dramatic. I lack the words to describe this one. He gets a high seeing people fighting, or making out or anything that you don't see everyday on the streets. He actively seeks out these events and I'm sure if he could maintain independence he would instigate them himself. How we met, I have no idea, but he's quite entertaining.

3. Mr. Outer Limits - to be fair, this guy has changed. But he used to be the guy who doesn't know what's not appropriate for public "consumption". You know that little thing inside that tells you to close the door when shittin, or aim away from people when peeing, or lower your voice when praying for those material things? Now imagine that thing being castrated, have it's tongue cut out, the whole body dipped in acid,staked thru it's equivalent of the heart and otherwise subjected to radiation. You can imagine it wouldn't give you a lot of direction when you need it. That's what must have happened to this guy. But alas, now he's a part of my social life, and, as long as he doesn't get any worse, I'm happy to have him there.

4. Mummy Dearest - the only woman to feature on this list. She's positively the best mom ever. I know that's a clichèd thought but I think know why it's such a prevalent opinion. This woman has, for as long as I've known her, given her all to her kids. Never have I seen anything but selfless acts from her. And age and the persistence of the requirement to sacrifice have not made her bitter. And for that she has the undying devotion of a son hell bent on success for one sole purpose, to make her life as incredibly successful as it possibly can be. No words can express the love I have for her.

5. Mr. People Person - this guy has a way of getting behind people's defenses and charming his way into a fruitful conversation. Regardless of age, social niche or political-economic eminence, he will find a way of identifying with all and having a merry conversation. The most predictable thing about his calls is that he'll find a reason to burst into booming contagious laughter. And he's cheeky, strange for his age, and will find humour in the most sordid of circumstances. What a curious boss for such a cynical skeptic. Much like a dad I never had, but always wished for.

6. Mrs. People Person - no, not the wife of Mr. People Person but his business partner. And yes, I know I said Mummy dearest was the only woman to make this list, but what the heck, it's my blog. She does not find her way around their defenses, she blondes her way into them. Don't get me wrong, she's brilliant at her job but insists on being so damn clueless about everything else, and as absent minded as a guinea pig without a wheel. But she's unimaginably full of life and it shows on her face. She's almost inexorably on her phone and she's almost always laughing, at times just coz she thinks it might be remotely funny and she'll get it later.

7. Sir Wind - this one stands out for his hidden streak of royalty. He knows quality and believes he is meant for it. I guess that's the trait that attracts people to him. Once referred to as "gatherer" for his knack for getting "them" after everyone else has tried their level best. He's a silent charmer, worming his way into the pants hearts of our unsuspecting targets. He believes in himself, and this is why he's dear to me.

8. Mr. 20:20 Vision - this one has a talent for seeing them from far and the guts to bring them closer. He's single handedly introduced me to more people than the Internet itself. I'm yet to figure out how he does it, or how, despite all appearances, they are constantly drawn to him. Maybe it's his bold approach coupled by the guts to approach. He's incredibly useful to have around bit that's not his sole purpose. He has an impossibly vast reservoir of stories about all manner of conceivable social situations. Such a dear one.

9. Mr. Sun - this guy is so full of life and can't keep it under wraps. He's a joy to be around even in those embarrassing moments when he's a little too bubbly for public consumption. At a time when I was cleaning up my social life, he survived the purge coz, as I once put it, "no one can ever get me to disown him". Like the sun, we're not as close as we should be, but those few moments are cherished.

10. Mr. Swag - he's big, he's black and he's got more swag than y'all put together. You know those people you just know were meant to be rich and proud, yeah, he's one of them. And not proud in a bad way, just knowing he's all that and a gucci bag. If he didn't drink alcohol like a fish, and smoke like a chimney, I'd be hosting him daily to get infected with some of that swag. Me I like this one.

11. Madam Virtue - this woman (2 years my junior) is so resplendent in her virtue that I think the bible mentions her somewhere. No, seriously, I'm even thinking it's a mistake putting her in is list with all them sinners. She ain't the halo-adorned churchy but she has principles and she's not ashamed to put you in your place, you downright wicked person, you. Her dedication and discipline is most inspiring.

12. Madam Cry A. Lot - Such a dear sweet thing. She's truly one of my longest serving friends. But the earth is like one giant onion being cut up coz she can cry at just about anyting. There's this one time she couldn't reach her husband on the phone and no one could contain her fears. But she has a good heart, and does warn me when she's about to cry so I can take refuge. I have allergies to most human emotion, especially those ones that tend to paralyze the unfortunate mortals in the vicinity.

13. Mr. Break My Heart - I know this one person who walks around wearing his heart on a sleeve for any random person to break it. Actually, come to think of it, I know two such people. Their incessant believe in general human good is most humbling, and naive. Their superhuman powers like that of wolverine, no matter how many times their hearts are broken they heal instead of turning into bitter venomous critters.

14. Mr. I Don't Have A Heart - this one walks around claiming to be a vicious bloodhound with no heart or indeed any part of the circulatory system. His motto is "love me at your own peril." He's a thumping good actor because the truth is that he's a puppy with a super fragile heart. Yeah, he's a fraud, but then again, who, including the author, isn't? Most interesting individual I've met in years. His sharp mind and dark soul remind me of.......well, me.

15. The Wine Master - if it's alcoholic, he knows it. More importantly, he knows how to mix it and what to take it with. The Science of Drinking is the name of the lecture he'd give if he was to give one. And my, is he an instructor. If he's part of a conversation, in a while it will be him giving the story and y'all will be listening to his words of wisdom(or just fact). A treasured pal.

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Mount Doom

Another soul perishes of exhaustion in the quest to reach that heart, Mount Doom claims yet another skull to adorn its morbid decor. Go back mere mortals, for none yet lives that have trodden this path, and no finite eyes have laid hold of that sight.

I have just woken up to reply to facebook, and to this macabre thought.

How convenient of blogger to give us email blogging.

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Que Sera Sera

Don't you love that feeling you get when you do something and finish it? I'm writing while riding out this feeling. There are moments when I have work to do which I feel I could delegate but at the same time I'm sure I won't like what I'll get back. You know, at times, to do something right you must do it yourself. I guess those are the moments when I see both the problem and the solution but I need to put that solution in prose (so to speak) so that the recipient doesn't take me for a lazy retard for sending bullet points, half processed thoughts and unformatted work. Some say substance over form but so long as you're dealing with human beings, presentation triumphs fact.

Moving on, a friend of mine recently gave me advice. He tells me, as I already believe, that relationships grow organically. You don't just wake up one day and decide to get into one, at least not the ones that last, instead, you wake up one day and realize you got into one quite a while back. After all, what is a relationship but a sub-set of association type.

But the devil is, as usual, in the detail (which, I guess, explains why some people possess more aesthetic value at a distance). He's proposing that an association I've been having is blossoming into a relationship and I should let it progress into a full blown one. I beg to differ. No doubt the association is good, I enjoy the company and I think the feeling is reciprocated, but its nothing more.

The problem with people like me who think they know other people and know all about human psychology is that we tend to have a very brief and steep exponential phase in associating with any particular person. We reach the plateau phase shortly after hello. Put it another way, we know what we want, we know what we can get and we don't bet on change.

The good thing is this, despite my viewpoint differing with that of my friend, our conclusions are similar. The primacy of status quo. Change is secondary and must be premeditated. Que Sera Sera.

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Gotcha!!!

The audacity of hope is to defy probability.

Yesterday we recovered a friend's macbook which had been stolen from my place (I shared my distress here). We got the miscreant and just so you be aware, I have opted to disclose his identity (I trust that the report filed with the police will suffice to rebut any defamation claims made in this regard).

I wish I could say it was CSI Nairobi but we were going up against a petty thief who seriously needs to use his "skills" to get an IQ so the challenge was short of titanic. We still needed the drive of an outsider. The owner of the laptop shares my lethargy for senseless pursuit of material things but is slightly more vengeful and had indicated that running over someone was an option. And so we engaged the private services of a cop, and visited various estates, staked out one in particular, sourced for his pictures on the net (I did this bit, quite easy actually with our blinding devotion to sharing our lives on facebook), talked to his neighbours and finally knocked on his door.

I still can't wrap my mind around the "why" of it all. Why would you steal a laptop from people who are not perfect strangers and then keep it? It perturbs me given there were no drool marks on his face.

I was not there to see the look on his face when they walked into his house where the whole family was seated oblivious to the fact that they were habouring a felon. I wish I was there, right now my struggle would be to find words to express that look on his face. My last text to him was that we would do whatever it took to get him - I really wish I was there to say "GOTCHA!!!" I like living up to my word.

Anyway, my friends politely asked for their property and it came with a free bag (looks free too though) and fake nokia earphones. Yippee, we can now retire. We'll be returning those though. We are men of honour (except when circumstances demands otherwise which then speaks to the calibre of honour which we [tentatively] lay claim to).

The thief had upgraded the OS and put a new password so I had to text him to ask. I did so politely and he responded with the password. I thanked him and wished him a good night. And this was no attempt to "heap coals of fire on his head" as the good book would want. I tend to resort to absolute courtesy when I'm deadly serious - no raised tones in my speech when I'm damning a mortal.

My friend decided not to prefer charges. Mercy was not ours to give or to withhold so we respected his decision. For the record, I'd have done the same. Mercy and grace are accorded to me without measure, and so in those rare circumstances when I have the choice and my conscience permits it, I will give them without measure.

The elation the recovery brought was such a good way to end the weekend. It took a while to take in the fact that our search was over and my conscience had been cleared. I can imagine how much more relief the owner had. For me it was just a stained conscience, for him actual loss of property - valuable and cherished property.

I suspect this will be a blogful week, I have issues to share.

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The 7 (Technological) Wonders of the World - Art Droid's version

My seven wonders of the world:

1. Global Village - distance has been conquered. The ubiquity of communication technology is such that the only thing that distance and borders can deny you in social interactions is touch (with its many variations). I still wonder how they used to do it those days without instant messaging, instant emails, mobile telephony and social networking. Oh, wait, I think I'm old enough to remember. We really didn't do much, but on the flip side we had lots of time to do whatever it was that we did. No such thing as the "good old days" for me.

2. Live Text - that I can sit on my laptop busy working and read the budget speech being currently read by the Minister almost word for word is amazing. Unlike radio and tv where rewind is not possible, scrolling up and down allows me to quickly recap on what I've forgotten. Its news reporting taken to another level especially for those of us who do not have time or resources to watch tv or listen to radio while working. And not just news, I remember just last year "reading" various world cup matches.

3. Touch screens - from mobile phones, to tablets to ATM and public utility interfaces, this idea is outlawing dedicated hardware buttons. The adaptability is almost limitless. Coupled with the ever increasing quality of screen resolutions, we're heading to the sci fi era.

4. Blogs - just like this one. People get to share ideas, opinion, news and gossip through writing, photos and videos without the confines of professional or regulatory ambits. As I said in an earlier post, its like having a tv or radio station or newspaper which is wholly controlled by one person. Pardon the pun, but its getting it raw. From the right winger's who play to the popular convention of publishing (market based with appropriate controls) to the left wingers who do their thing for whatever its worth.

5. Android - What Linux did for computer geeks everywhere is what Android has done for phone geeks. But you don't have to be a geek to realize its benefits, you just need to have the money and time to get and make use of a smart phone. The customizability (yes, I know the word doesn't exist . . . yet) of the interface and availability of (free) useful widgets and applications is impressive. No other mobile platform can match us - not even the once perfect symbian and definitely not the gated community of Apple or the decadent Microsoft.

6. Social networking - You think this is related to Global Village? Really? Well, let me explain how I see it . . . Ok, I see your point. But the emphasis here is, while there is the ability to reach anyone you know regardless of distance, social networking makes it possible to have your own online community at your finger tips. On social media you are who you say you are tempered only by how many of your friends support (passively, via public posts) your cyber-image. I think the first forms of social networks were dating sites which were geared towards putting you in touch with potential significant others (or one hour commitments) but this has grown to embrace other aspects of our lives including career, consumer habits, views and opinions and the all-too-popular allure - gossip.

7. High-Definition Television - HD (and 3D) is also something I didn't have in my childhood. Not that it would have mattered on a small black and white greatwall TV but hey, at least I know there were no HD images to catch at the local TV shops. From DVD rips which show clearly on big TVs to the prohibitively huge but deliriously clear 1080p quality HD downloads, quality is fast becoming as important as content. Yet another sign that we're becoming a more vain society.

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The little things in life

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Shower gel - the hot water rolling down your body and a carefully chosen scent wafting into your nostrils. Sigh.

Signature Cologne - the concept of having a signature scent (that's not natural) and a mark left in the second-least common social sensory organ. They say smell makes for the strongest memories - one need look no further than animals to see the point.

Clean sheets and a shower before bed - some of the joys of being single.

Space - organized space. be it in the bedroom, living room, kitchen, office, car, parking, garden, restaurant or lounge. It's like the mind adopts the attitude of the space around it.

Medium sweet red wine - something about the balance between sweet and full bodied tantalizes the tongue, a bitter sweet and oh so flavored sensation in your mouth. Again, mind out of the gutter. Now add a matching flavor chocolate and suddenly you're alone in your own world. Bliss.

Hover - that's what I call that moment after "I'll have another" and "Oh shit, I'm high". That serene moment when you have all your faculties with you and yet you have this stupid smile on your face like you just finished doing something mildly embracing but fun.

Mid-night bungee - for crying out loud, mind out of the gutter. You know when you wake us and swear silently at the crack of dawn only to realize that you have a few more hours of sleep? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Guess what, you actually smile. Check next time it happens, if you remember.

Cuddling - some people hate it but they can bite me. Right now I can think of three people I'd cuddle with at a moments notice...none of them is fat, fat makes me sweat.

Chocolate - now you can tell this is not in order of preference. Oral orgasm. From rum and raisin to fruit and nut to Ferrero Roche. What used to be an intermittent craving is now a lifestyle.

Waking up to an empty house - and all the "not a morning person" people said AMEN. Just give us 1 hour and come back in, please.

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Sample social irritants

1. Live a little - yes, your life is fun and you are by far making more use of it than the poor lifeless folk around you. But who appointed you entertainment manager of the universe. Leave us be, maybe we find boredom fun, yet another social paradox like pain being pleasure or fear being entertaining or blondes being good in bed.

2. So tell me about yourself - now I like the sound of my voice and find myself a great topic for anytime any place but if it's a social setting, try and be more creative. Chances are that if you ask that question, you're either a veery boring person to be around or we're just not going to enjoy each others company.

3. So what's new - read - we've reached that stage in our chat where the awkward silence would play is ever so important role. Further below is what not to say during this serene moment. If it comes shortly after "hi", then our social relationship needs rethinking.

4. they're there theirs - this is infinitely more common and therefore more frustrating than item 5 below. My comments there (or should I say their) apply but by a three digit factor.

5. Quit quite quiet - my English teacher did me a great disservice. Yes, she did teach me grammar and all but she, unfortunately, did not have the capacity to inculcate the more particular nuances of the language in me. However, I think we need a public campaign on the use of these words.

6. Rat race language evolution - we all know acceptable truncations in chat. Veery few of us like chatting in pure prose but there's a limit. Ok, let me say it as it is - truncating the last vowel of every swahili word is not cool. Focus people, progress is generally in the forward direction.

7. Mob psychology - I respect individuality even when I don't agree with it's detail. However, the pursuit of traits because they are popular in some circles is a tragedy - murder most foul on creativity and self acceptance. True, as social beings our every desire is shaped in part by the opinion of others and creativity is little more than rearrangement of memory, but living someone else's life so passionately alludes to a most desperate soul.

8. Unsuccessful attempt to improve on awkward silence - God made those awful breaks in conversation for a reason and it's profoundly presumptuous of people to rudely interrupt them with random topics which justify the silence. Conversations starting with "so..." tend to be bad ways of breaking the silence.

10. Face'less'book profiles - it's facebook, darn it. You think we spent all this time developing a real profile complete with pictures and posts and updates just so we can connect anonymously? Look for a freaking chat room or chat with your fellow faceless friends but for goodness sake leave normal profiles alone. Yeah, you with the 4000 friends, you haven't made it to my top ten.

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8 classes of gay men

Now I must say this is not my work, I wish I was nearly half this creative. I came across it courtesy of a friend's curiosity. Makes for an entertaining read and make me drop my phone in bouts of laughter one one or two occasions.

The Skinny Bitch
This strain of Black gay is typically very young (”green”) but quickly rises in popularity in his newfound social circle because of his youth, pliability and quick mastery of shade. His goal is to accrue as many enemies as possible since he’s convinced that having enough people that despise him means he’s “doing something right.” He will spend an entire month’s salary on designer sunglasses because he considers them social currency.Activities: “Walking”, throwing shade, wearing eyeliner, being penetrated, hogging the camera, starting arguments with strangers, making youtube videos, going to the mall.
Diva of Choice: Beyonce or Rihanna (there is no in-between)
Top or Bottom: Bottom.

The Homo Thug
The Homo Thug’s days are numbered since this is a group that usually patterns itself after trends in Hip-Hop, and the thug image is slowly fading. However, this image is still a selling point in gay porn and a popular refuge for closeted men. He usually has archaic notions about Black male sexuality and equates “thug” with masculinity. He is disrespectful, self-hating, and needs to pull his pants up.Activities: Hiding, lying, saying “I don’t do that gay shit”, smoking weed, being ignorant, having kids, having a limited vocabulary, not returning calls, breaking hearts.
Diva of Choice: Lil’ Wayne
Top or Bottom: Outdoor Top/Indoor Bottom

The Big Boy
These teddy bears are sweet, loving, warm and always horny. The lines between a good meal and good sex are often so blurred that any conversation involving “meat” will simply have to be taken in stride. He is way more confident than you think he has a right to be, always has a date (because he looks “healthy”), he’s funny, and will give you anything in the world as long as you are consistently fucking his brains out.Activities: Calling skinny bitches “skinny bitches”, cooking, hugging, making inappropriate double entendres, grabbing.
Diva of Choice: Jennifer Hudson
Top or Bottom: Bottom.

The Muscle Queen
They roll in packs and only date each other. You never see them during the winter months because they are in the gym 24/7. Come summer, he’s wearing the smallest tank-top or the tightest t-shirt. Don’t bother lusting after him, because you do not exist in his world.Activities: Making fun of fat people, lifting weights, talking about lifting weights, accusing skinny people of being sick, dating white guys, bumping into people, being penetrated.
Diva of Choice: Creatine.
Top or Bottom: Power Bottom.

The Church Queen
In spite of the Black church’s reputation for homophobia and intolerance, you will find that a number of Black gay men make the church the cornerstone of their social interaction, perhaps out of a sense of familial or religious obligation, or simply because the choir is so fierce. The Church Queen is usually loyal and loving, but is prone to Tourette-like outbursts of “Jee-suss!!” in any given situation. He listens to gospel music constantly and considers Loretta Divine his spirit animal.Activities: Cooking, talking loud, clutching his pearls, singing, being called “mother”, being single, speaking with a southern twang even though he’s from the midwest or the northeast.
Diva of Choice: Karen Clark Sheard.
Top or Bottom: Sanctified Bottom.

The Uppity Snob
He is educated, has a six-figure salary, a nice car and a big house, but nothing is good enough for him. He will throw dinner parties with his Coven Of The Articulate and they will all wear hard-soled shoes regardless of the season, time of day or theme. When he’s among other types of gays, he will roll his eyes, sneer, or attempt to oppress them intellectually. In spite of all his accomplishments, he’ll never be happy, can’t take a joke and never laughs. He can usually be found in the club wearing a blazer and sipping a cocktail against the wall.Activities: Debating, sighing, having a small penis, having furniture delivered, going to the spa, being offended, finding excuses to use any word that requires a schwa.
Diva of Choice: Whitney Houston
Top or Bottom: Bottom.

The Alterna-Queen
He doesn’t like the “gay scene” because he finds it “too mainstream.” You can find him a coffee shop with his MacBook Pro listening to underground Soul or Hip-Hop, writing poetry and waiting for someone with whom he can debate the oppression of goats and librarians. He often accuses people of “not getting” him and reactively dislikes anything that everyone else likes. He’s basically “The Uppity Snob” but with dreadlocks.Activities: Poetry slams, debating, having his locks re-twisted, blogging, shopping at outdoor markets, calling himself a photographer, quoting Marcus Garvey, dating white men.
Diva of Choice: Some bitch you never heard of.
Top or Bottom: Top for white guys, otherwise bottom.

The Old Queen
The Old Queen has seen everything and done everyone. He thinks you’re frivolous and that you stole everything from his generation. He will say things like “in my day, the men were men” and “remember when House music was House music?” He is short of patience and doesn’t want to hear your whining.Activities: Knowing everything. Remembering everything.
Diva of Choice: Stephanie Mills, Teena Marie, Chaka Khan or Luther Vandross.
Top or Bottom: Like it even matters.

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Dream Drive, Vain Street

We all have our ambitions, and for most of us, the detail of our ambitions include a sub-sector of cars. This is my list, of what I have and what I hope to have.

A tame little car which caught my heart and was within the reach of my wallet. The story of this car was the opportunity cost of a blue Toyota 111 from a friend of mine. I was about to seal the deal then someone advised to me to check out an open field local car bazaar. It was among the first cars I saw within my price range. I didn't tell my pal but once I saw the car I was instantly in love. From the color to the lights to the price. The car had me at hello. It is a good first car to have - decent power for any but the heavy footed, no mechanical issues except a few radiator related problems fixed by weld here and there, and not too common on the road as its Toyota counterparts (but fast getting there). Sheldon

Now this car is as a result of the seed of heavy footedness that was sawn in me by my friends. Subaru is known for power but traditional makes always failed to appeal to the aesthetic element in me. But I saw this at a car bazaar once and I was smitten - call it love at first sight...ironically I only saw it from behind. I want it turbo charged so I can do 0 to 60 mph in 6 seconds for the record. Viktor

This car is sheer beauty but only in black. Reminds me of someone I know. All my other cars, until further notice, will be in white. Except this one. In white it looks good but in black it looks like sex with a 2.5 ltr engine, to be ridden hard and not just for procreative purposes. Samurai X

The destiny of every ambitious car owner is to go German. I used to be a Mercedes fan but I've long since been shown the light. Look at any good hotel and you'll see a merc being used as a cab, but never a BMW. Its a performance car, until very recently devoting very little attention to interior luxuries that make the mercedes the preferred executive car. I see myself doing the whole range....ish. Starting with a modest 320i and increasing the engine capacity till I hit twin turbo with the 335i. I've never been a fan of executive cars so I'll skip the 5 and 7 series altogether despite rumours that the 5 series is a driver's car. King Julian

From the three series I'll head for this alien beauty. First time I saw this car, it offended me. I didn't know what to make of it. Now that very quality attracts me. I've heard its performance is like an old man on expired viagra pills. But who cares for performance. Most cars can do 200kph, it just takes time and foolhardy courage for some. Anyway, I once stalked this one in the CBD in an attempt to comprehend the 'why' behind it's design. If it wasn't for my colossal ego I'd have driven it by now. Yoda

I'm not overly ambitious so my list ends there for now. But I bet they'll make something that will give me a heart attack one of these days. The range sport, the jaguar xf, the BMW M3, and the Mercedes clk are other cars that I'd like to drive, but not really own.

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Leaving

I'm on leave.....for just two days but it had me thinking. Leave is a word close to my heart, almost as close as no. Now I don't get to say it often enough.....mostly because I don't make too many mistakes and even the few ones I make are corrected by a no long before the word leave is necessary.

So I'm boring? I know I don't live up to your idea of interesting. I'm sorry, I beg you forgiveness. I mean, how dare I? So very inconsiderate of me.

What might come as an absolute shocker is that I find your idea of fun to be a catastrophic waste of time, tantamount to downright debauchery and equalled only by the most famous tragedies of our time. That I don't run away screaming.........for a gun to shoot you followed by me......just to make sure I didn't have to live through it, is proof of my sheer magnanimity.

The point is, every one is entitled to their own notion of fun, and I have mine. I like the lazy approach to fun......let the fun find me. I like them movies and them coffee lounges and them road trips and all those things I do. I don't like going out, worrying, binge drinking, taking weird fetish risks like most of the rest of the populace.

So let's examine what it is that leads them "interesting" people to call me boring. If what I'm doing is boring, here's a bright idea, actually true epiphany. LEAVE. Go and follow your contemporary cliche ideas of fun and leave me the heck alone. I agree that what I'm doing is boring......because you're here saying it's so and I have been too transfixed to give you alternative things for you to do with your mouth......like bite on a cushion and find an appropriately rusted barbed wire to lean on while I live my life.

I have friends who either put up with what I'm doing and shut up, or are twisted enough to actually enjoy the moribund activity which I've chosen for the day. Live a little? Fucking leave me alone a little.

Could it be that these interesting people find my company nice to be around? If so, why are they trying to change what they enjoy? Decide.

But wait. I know boring people, one or two here and there. Maybe I should go sound time with them telling them that they're boring. Oh wait, I find that kind of stuff boring. Oh well, they have to live without the benefit of my undeniable incredibly indispensable words of wisdom.

Sigh.

I've stopped the random thoughts segment, the producer was weighed on the scales and found wanting.

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