Email Blogging

I might be resort to this to avoid having to show up on the site all the time now that I’ve made it all colourful and gay. So let me see how this works out.

I have a moderate appreciation of art. Especially digital pictures that voilate the senses. Like the burning bush the guitar is not consumed by the fire that so apparently engulfs it. Thrilling. For someone with an expansive imagination, this gets you wondering.

Random thought: Hibiscus. Thor 3D. Parched. What a useless day.

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Freedom from reputation

Writing when angry brings out the best in me, I think.

I've just realized something. The last few months I've been groping in the dark not knowing what I've been looking for. I've been busy working hard to accomplish a goal I didn't fully appreciate. All I knew is when I'd fail to accomplish it. The feeling is bad. Must be what retards feel. There it is, there it is, there it is, oops, it's gone, but wait, what was it in the first place? Drool.

Thanks to a friend who just annoyed me I know what it is. Nothing like heightened emotion to give you an epiphany. I need freedom from my reputation. I've been told countless times about it, at times it's painted as a good reputation, at times a bad one. But always the same one. Well, to me it's bad. It means I don't have principles. Imagine me. Not having principles. What am I then? Aren't we the sum total of our beliefs which then form our principles which then dictate our actions?

First, acceptance. I won't deny the reputation and I'll even go as far as conceding that it has an element of truth. Undoubtedly it's exaggerated. I mean, real life is boring, let's stretch our imaginations, why don't we. But it's made up of a core of truth, painted by the prejudices of those with access to it, coated and layered by those without access who come to hear it, bloated by time and pampered to full erection by the mouths of those who tirelessly pay homage to it.

Then shame, anger and depression in quick succession. Never had much time for emotions.

Finally conviction and determination. I'll destroy the core truth of the reputation and pray that the whole structure crumbles. Undoubtedly it will take at least as much time to destroy as it took to build. But I will watch and wait, like that vulture in Sudan waiting for the malnourished child to die. I wonder what happened to the photographer of that sad tale.

I'll need to shed myself of a lot of trash. Also some useless acquaintances and even one or two negative friends. And fill in those gaps with newer ones who will be easier to control. I also need to distance myself from those participants who tempt me to give the reputation it's core truth. Yet another paragraph for the wise.

Rejoice universe, the cold one is making a comeback.

Random thought - The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.

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Hard and sweaty business

Yesterday evening I was chatting with a friend of mine and voila, I randomly engaged in that very interesting physical activity which it tiring and sweaty but leaves you feeling so darn satisfied. Yes, I went to the gym.

Now, I’m not overly fat although I have to admit I’m less than fit by more than a few points. Nevertheless, I don’t have this pressing need to lose weight. You’re right, what weight. But I like the idea of working out for a few reasons. Facing the challenge builds discipline. If you can keep up the habit despite your body’s protests, what else shouldn't you be able to do without your body’s express consent?

It does wonders to the biology of the body. From my experience, I get a healthier appetite and require less hours of sleep with consistent working out. That, of course, might have changed since the last time I worked out.

Working out also revitalizes the spirit. This may be related to the other two points but just one work out yesterday made me feel on top of the world, no pun intended.

A few experiences made this a bit different from other work outs I’ve heard in the past. For one, I had a trainer taking me through the ropes. So after cycling 4km and running two, this particular trainer targeted muscles I’d forgotten I have. Thank God the sets are limited to three. One more set and I’d have been crying for mummy.

I got into the sauna - very interesting experience. I hate heat and I hate humidity. So why, pray tell, would they make a place that artificially creates both for the human body? It was a horrible experience. A few more times and I'll be done with it for life. After such a work out and very few part of my body are aching a day later, it had to be the sauna.

Then I come out of the sauna and my 22 year old trainer steps out of the shower butt naked (or nekd, as my friend says). And he’s not in a hurry to cover himself. For five random minutes he galavants his exposed self in the changing room. At this point I should clarify that we were alone in the room.

I’ve been brought out with a certain healthy respect for privacy and nothing gets more private than “private parts”. To be so accosted out of the blues was a grand violation of my notion of indecent exposure. Now I’ll be the first to admit that you can’t indecently expose something decent, but I’m still not convinced on the decency of this particular exposure.

Thirst. No, not that. The sauna allegedly makes you lose 1 litre of water through sweat for every two minutes you’re in that darned place. I didn’t believe that so I googled it. Apparently, an average person loses between 0.5 and 1.5 litres of water for a 15 minutes session. That’s more credible. So I was thirsty. I normally don’t like drinking water but I was gulping glass after glass.

A perfectly well formed body. That’s what staying in a gym does to a normal human being. Too bad it doesn’t change the face for the better. My life would have been that much more hard. For the wise.

Moving on, due to the proliferation of android based phones in the Kenyan market, I had an interesting experience yesterday. A friend of mine invited me to a chat group on a web-based SMS program. This group had 10 people, nine of whom I knew. And they were having a sex chat. So here I was seeing some otherwise innocent people talking about the most debasing things. I knew the moment I'd step in most of them would not be free to chat so I just read and hushed. Most interesting.

I hurt my back. Isn't it interesting how 40 sit ups can make me go to work the following day at noon and a weekend of lifting a 55kg weight for an hour doesn't incapacitate me one bit? The difference is motivation I guess. Ego plays its part. This paragraph is another for the wise.

Random thought - Chips and chicken. 60 kgs - that's what I weight yesterday.

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The Philosophy of a Weekend

For the first time since I started blogging again, I took a few days off. Inadvertently. The weekend just caught up with me like one of those cyclic redundancy errors of the diskette era.

I always wonder if there is some underlying psychology behind what makes my weekends. Well, technically, of course there is. But can I ever know it. Should I make a case study of one?

In some ways this weekend was typical, characterized by the relaxing indiscipline of indulging in certain activities while yearning for other. Those I engaged in being sleeping, watching tv and visiting friends, while those I yearned for being hitting the road in German technology, enjoying the presence of a chosen companion and receiving a deep tissue massage. About hitting the road in German technology, you know you crave the road when you start heading to a place called Kinoo for an official meeting and you end up in a place called Limuru just coz ‘you missed a turn’. And it’s the fuel tank that stopped me. And this was not German engineering.

But this weekend does not make for an ideal case study. It had a few unusual about it. One being I went out. To Westlands of course for the only thing that makes going out worth while. A feast for the eyes. Watching that youth at the prime of life dressed in the most “interesting” ways gives me some sort of joy.

My interest in this crowd is not popular perverted drool of the elderly thinking about the old days when they still had virility in their loins or the senseless panting of a teenager in heat, but the envy of a culture that was not part of my early years and an almost artistic appreciation of the aesthetics of a finer biology complimented by contemporary fashion.

I have to confess that had I been part of such a crowd when I was young, I would not have turned out to be the person I am today. I am grateful in part that I didn’t enjoy that lifestyle, but I’m also glad that I’m getting to see it before I’m too old to be anything but a pervert in enjoying the scene.

Another thing that made this weekend unusual is that, for the first time in months, I did not have a full house. I think in total, I had 2 visitors to my name. The usual culprits were missing, along with the usual shenanigans.

I did two things that I’m embarrassed about. Both a result of indiscipline. Of course I wont tell you what they are, I said they’re embarrassing, didn’t I?

Overall, May is turning out to be a “not so bad month”.

Random thought – I don’t think this is going to be a “deep” week. I think I’ll discuss more personal stuff.

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Lets talk about sex

Ok, not really, but I got your attention, didn’t I? And a perfect excuse to upload a pic.

Now that I have your attention, the saying is that success is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration but I think I differ on the percentages. My reason is simply. Success does seem to have a correlation with hard work but does not clearly guarantee results, and neither can it boast to be an essential ingredient. I see impoverished lean people on the streets whose glistening bodies evidence hard work while the opulent only acquire the same sweaty profiles in gyms and saunas.

Hear ye, hear ye, there comes the troops saying it depends on how you define hard work and success. Lets try simple definitions – hard work is what gets you really tired (physically or otherwise) and most people will shy away from while success is wealth/unlimited access to the things that make life worth while.

By that definition I think those properly called labourers work pretty hard while those called executives don't break a sweat on a daily basis. And yet who has less limitations in accessing the things we all seek? Rhetoric.

Inspiration on the other hand is less discriminative of cadres. I get more done in one inspired hour than in an otherwise busy day. My employer has wisened up to my ways and leaves me to my devices. He knows I need time to work up the inspiration to give him what he needs to impress his clients. He knows I need time to work up the inspiration to get what I need to impress his clients.

I agree, hard work and success can be defined in other ways. But could everyone please stop implying that appearing busy will ultimately unlock success?

Ok, lets really talk about sex

Male or female? Got you again, didn’t I?

I recently read a blog that asserted that all men are driven by the quest for sex. I disagree, I think its just most men. And I also think its not really sex, it’s the conquest that sex means. Explains why the harder the target, the greater the urge to have it.

Yeah, that’s all I have to say on the matter. No positions, no names, no statistics and no personal confessions.

Not so random thought - Coitus. Copulate.

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Tactful humility

So am in this meeting, right? We've arrived late and the client starts going on and on about how we and the other advisor in the room are not taking it seriously. As in he's getting really worked up.

Ok? And here are the two reactions I observed from the two culprits. The other advisor gives excuses and takes this hard stand saying he's not at fault. Come to think of it, this is how kids do it too. This aggravates the client further and his voice has become shaky. I call it embarrassing anger, you know, that one you know you're making an ass out of yourself but you don't care coz venting it feels just so damn sweet - kinda like taking a stubborn crapper, you don't even dare look at your phone at that point.

And my boss? He apologizes. This despite the fact that he has a flawless track record of attendance unlike the other chap.....except today of course. And he lays on the apology thick. You know those ones where the only option left is for the other person to say "it's ok". Yeah, that one. The client calms down, you can see the gauge falling, like when you switch off the car and they tumble smoothly from loss of potency (or even like how someone walks in on you when you're 'busy' and you go all flacid.

Then he proposes measures to take to ensure that it's convenient for everyone to meet without inconveniencing each other. Then he explains his lateness. The client is happy. The meeting starts.

I'm almost sure the meeting couldn't have taken off with those two going for each others' throats.

I have to say, my boss has it in him. I like my boss. He bought me a sandwich too.

And I like my housemate too for buying 20 litres of fuel for me.....or rather, on my behalf..... since I have to pay him back COG. I can breath easy.

Lesson learnt. Humility is not embarrassing if its tactful. And you need humility in business. Even the shrewdest  businessman sucks up, a lot.

I'm left wondering if I have what it takes to make it big, in business. Can't I just buy some real estate on the moon and retire to making myself sandwiches?

Random thought - I know what blogging is - its talking to random people about topics you're passionate about oblivious, in most cases, to the reaction of their audience. Kinda like what street preachers do.

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Immortality

I’m currently reading Ramses the Great by Anne Rice. She’s a favourite author, in the top ranks with Colleen McCullough, she of the “First Man in Rome” fame. In this novel she deviates from her vampire/witches chronicles but predictably, the concept of the immortal still permeates this book.

The book centers around Ramses, once and always famed mighty pharaoh of Egypt, who gained the secret of immortality. Entombed of his own will for 2000 years he is revived by an archeologist who defies the curse on his “tomb”.

I love paradoxes and this book has plenty.

The first thing he sees in the process of being revived is the murder of an innocent. An act of sheer greed. What a ‘welcome back’ message from humanity.

Then, despite being in the “information age” he learns that the world’s history is a collection of errors. Truly history is not only written by the victor as is so readily said but also coloured by the prejudices of latter generations.

And despite having almost magical inventions and awe-inspiring technological advances, society still grapples with poverty and the poor. Clearly time hasn’t cured humanity of its shortcomings, or the world of its humanity, whichever the greater evil may be.

Immortality does not also do justice for the soul. Ramses the Great, or Ramsey, stands up after two millennia of slumber only to fall in love. This time with less than a queen. His second inspiration is revenge – noble as the quest for justice against the murderer of an innocent may be, this remains, in my view – a most crippling emotion.

Immortality has always fascinated me. The Good Book says God has “set eternity in the hearts of men”. But also close to my heart is a post-apocalyptic world – a world without humanity. Oh, such bliss, such serenity - who can dare say I do not have the heart of a romantic?

Random thought - No, this is not a book review. Mummy.

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