Friday Ramble 18/11/2005

It was RJ Knappy’s birthday yesterday and in his honour I promise only to say nice things about him.

I have a planet sized hangover just for you my guy.

Language is a weird thing. When you break it down, it is something that was basically constructed so that people could communicate where the best mushrooms grew, and I guess it had it’s origins in grunts. To a large degree men still communicate in grunts anyway. A girl with a bum as round and firm as a bowling ball walks past and one man will grunt, the other will look up and grunt and everyone knows what is going on. Not least of whom, the girl. So why is so much emphasis placed on grammar? Does it matter whether you split your infinitives? Does it matter that Knappy[1] says ‘lend’ when he means ‘borrow’? I understand what he is saying, don’t I? I have to be honest that although I realize that in reality grammar is relatively meaningless, I am a purist. It probably has something to do with my mother being an English teacher (and conferring upon me the spectacularly annoying habit of correcting other people’s English[2]).

Smythers sent me an MSN message telling me of his imminent trip to the water closet. I responded by asking him if he would like to go in tandem.
His response:

would be honoured to perform a simultaneous assault on the
JHB sewerage system with you

Toilet humour is so crass, but Smythers makes it sound so eloquent. How to make friends and influence people, hey?

Take the test: http://www.bathroomsurvey.com/

I have been told by girls on a number of occasions “you’re such a guy” as kind of a half-insult, but to guys it’s a really big compliment[3]. “Grrr, now hand me that keg of beer - it’s not going to drink itself. Grrr.” It makes me want to grow a beard. No matter how many guys shave their chests and wear pink shirts, “you’re such a metrosexual” is never going to inspire quite the same quiet pride. Laddish Bar-hounds one, Gender-confused Faggots[4] nil. Sorry, I’m obviously just jealous because I can’t afford to buy enough razor blades to shave my chest in its entirety. I did shave the Superman symbol into my chest hair once, does that count?

I was privileged this last weekend to see some old video clips of Rhodes that I haven’t seen before. I just about had an aneurism I laughed so hard. My personal favourite was Mrs. Bredin shouting out of a car window at some random guy in front of the drama department “Hey! You fucking queer”. Man, I’m such a guy. Anyway, I have to be honest I had my suspicions about your being queer when I first met you Bredie, but then I discovered you are just from Natal.

US declines to rule out torture

(courtesy that lesson in great objective reporting - News24.com).14/11/2005 09:18 - (SA)
Washington - In an important clarification of President George W Bush's
earlier statement, a top White House official on Sunday refused to unequivocally
rule out the use of torture, arguing the US administration was duty-bound to
protect Americans from terrorist attacks.
The comment, by US national
security adviser Stephen Hadley, came amid heated national debate about whether
the CIA and other US intelligence agencies should be authorised to use what is
being referred to as "enhanced interrogation techniques" to extract from terror
suspects information that may help prevent future assaults.
The US Senate
voted 90-9 early last month to attach an amendment authored by Republican
Senator John McCain to a defence spending bill that would prohibit "cruel,
inhuman or degrading" treatment of detainees in US custody. But the White House
has threatened to veto the measure and has lobbied senators to have the language
removed or modified to allow an exemption for the Central Intelligence Agency.
During a trip to Panama earlier this month, Bush said that Americans "do not
torture."
However, appearing on CNN's Late Edition programme, Hadley
elaborated on the policy, making clear the White House could envisage
circumstances, in which the broad pledge not to torture might not apply.
By the book
"The president has said that we are going
to do whatever we do in accordance with the law," the national security adviser
said. "But... you see the dilemma. What happens if on September 7th of 2001, we
had gotten one of the hijackers and based on information associated with that
arrest, believed that within four days, there's going to be a devastating attack
on the United States?"
He insisted that it was "a difficult dilemma to know
what to do in that circumstance to both discharge our responsibility to protect
the American people from terrorist attack and follow the president's guidance of
staying within the confines of law."
The CIA is reported to be operating a
network of covert prisons in eight countries around the world, including
Afghanistan, Thailand and several former Soviet bloc nations in Eastern Europe,
where terror suspects are questioned.
Republican Senator Kit Bond, a member
of the Senate Intelligence Committee, told Newsweek magazine that "enhanced
interrogation techniques" had worked with at least one captured high-level
Al-Qaeda operative, Khalid Shaikh Mohammed, to thwart an unspecified plot.
But officials have been mum about interrogation techniques used on other
detainees, drawing sharp criticism from members of the Senate.
A compromise
with senators was in the works, Hadley assured, saying the White House was
holding consultations with them about the McCain amendment.
President Bush
told reporters, “I was devastated to learn that Jack Bauer was a fictitious
character, cause then we could make all the rules we want and Jack, being the
hardcore son-of-a-bitch that he is, would just do what it took to get the job
done anyway. It was almost as bad as my fortieth birthday when my daddy let it
slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real. I must admit that when I sent troops into
Iraq I thought he was on our side and it would all be over in the morning. Man I
want to be like Jack. He is even a recovering heroin addict like me. Except that
he his mind hasn’t disintegrated into a moldy puddle of piss.”

GOD BLESS AMERICA

Turns out I’m a bit of a cock. Mrs. Bredin and I had bet this weekend about the country of origin of The Hives. And we bet a Knapton. I won a Knapton. I won a Knapton. As my birthday gift to you my boy, I’m giving you your freedom back. Actually, it only occurred to me now, but we specifically bet ‘a Knapton’; because it’s his birthday and I’m being nice, insert your own joke about his sister [here].

I fear people are not taking me seriously enough when I appeal to them to send embarrassing photos. Don’t make me use Photoshop any more. You’ve seen what it did to Knappy.

A big shout out to Harties who built me up the whole of last week about what a ripper of a jam we were going to have on Saturday, and then phoned to say he had given himself sunstroke on the golf course. Way to break a young man’s heart my boy. There I was in a R30 prom dress and nowhere to go.

I heard lyric in Green Day’s song ‘American Idiot’ I hadn’t caught before: "everybody do the propaganda" First there was the Twist, followed by the Locomotion, then the Macarena and now - the Propaganda. I dig it.

Ya, so at http://www.staregame.com you can play the staring game with a computer. I’m at a bit of a loss for comment.

The prophet Al Bahed va Maheer once wrote, “the path to joy is strewn with the rotting leaves of banana trees”. It revolutionized my approach to life. Now, when I walk, I am careful to watch where I am going; I haven’t stood on a rotting banana leaf for about 5 years, three months and a day, now.

Do you hate DJs? I hate DJs. Well, to be honest, I have nothing against them besides the fact that I frequently end up standing on my own ears when I dance. Anyway, I discovered rock bands hate DJs too. I love the Jet lyric “I know that you think you’re a star / a pill-popping juke box is all that you are” in their song called (if memory serves) ‘Roll Over DJ’. My favourite though is The Smith’s ‘Hang the DJ’. It’s subtle, but if you have that kind of mind, you can spot the allusion.

Ok. This might well have been the best week in history: The Red Giant turned 23. Dude! You can get into le Tigre now! Man, I so want to be your friend; but best of all – the new Franz Ferdinand finally made it to our merry shores and The Darkness just released a new album. Go on, I know you want to, just touch yourself.

Moving right along…

On Wednesday evening the Swiss and the Aussies both qualified for the Football World Cup Finals. The Aussies celebrated in style by throwing pints of beer down their faces[5], while the Swiss celebrated by one of their players fly kicking the opposition technical manager and then a brawl ensuing in the tunnel. You see what happens when you create a pristine neutral little country famous for chocolate, skiing and banking? Your people get bored and look for ways to entertain themselves. Anyway, to be honest I’m not sure of the context because controversy sells, so Sky only showed the clip of the guy doing the kicking and none of what happened beforehand.
No matter how much we hate them on the sports field, we have to admit that we are kin to the Aussies. We won the World Cup! Let’s get HAMMERED! I got a promotion! Drinks on YOU! Someone died! Let’s get LAMBASTED! My mother thinks she may have the clap! Let’s drink until we bleed from our EARS!
I have to admit that I do love it when the Aussies are getting thumped[6] but the fact that people are pitying them at the moment is too special to put into words. I heard people saying about last week’s rugby, “I was supporting Australia because, ag shame!” Shame?! Man, I love it; the one thing worse than your side getting thrashed is getting other countries’ pity for it. Except soon Aussie will discover the latest crop of prodigal fetuses, pour money into their development and win the World Cup, as usual.

Smythers and all those competing in the 94.7, good luck. No matter what anyone tells you, lycra pant is the new jean pant. I was watching Super Cycling the other day and they were talking about testicular cancer because of all the tea-bagging action cyclists get. Ya, watch out for that.

The Wheatsheaf was my local when I was younger. It turns out that the Hippie in Fairy Shoes thought that it was called the Wee Chief. And I’ve got to tell you, when I found out, I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t. What a great name for a pub. I’ve decided to call the pub I build at my first house the Wee Chief. And you are all invited to the bar wetting. I might just get naked for people to remember my name.

So we were sitting at the Baron yesterday celebrating Knappy’s ‘big’ day and a big red fire engine cruises past. Knappy jumped up all excited like and said “that’s the second one I’ve seen today!” - hold your laughter. During the course of more beers, two more, big red fire engines rolled past. Four big red fire engines! In one day! The cosmos obviously conspired to say a big fat HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOY KNAPS! Seriously, could I make this stuff up any better? You really can take the big kid out of the little town but you can’t take the little town out of the big kid hey.

Speaking of which – I saw the craziest thing I think I’ve ever seen this morning. A Mercedes SLK with EC plates. Has the world gone mad?!

Here I publish a little piece by Mrs Bredin entitled “The Apology”. I think it says everything. Names have been altered to protect the innocent.

The King Prawn and I would like to formally apologise to
Miss Scarlet for stealing her car aerial last night. We realise that she did in
fact want to carry on drinking with us and that it was in fact the red bear who
wanted to go home. We would like to point out that this was actually an attempt
to entice it into a rage so that it would chase after us. We firmly believed
that if we could get it away from the car we could convince it to carry on
drinking. Unfortunately our genius attempt did not work and hence Miss Scarlet
is without an aerial. We are truly sorry, your aerial will be returned in due
time.

IT PUTS THE LOTION ON ITS SKIN OR IT GETS THE
HOSE

And…I think we are done.

Geniet jou naweek julle.


[1] Ok, so I lied.
[2] No Knaps my son, you cannot ‘lend’ my Lamisil AT from me, but you may borrow it. In fact, keep it.
[3] Right up there with “it’s too big to fit in here”. God I hate that movie (sorry, I try not to blaspheme, but ‘God’ has a much better ring to it than ‘wow’ or ‘cheese and rice’.
[4] And I don’t mean faggot as in “best gay in this place”, either; I mean faggot as in insignificant little piece of wood, good only for starting a fire.
[5] I literally saw some Aussie fan do this on the news. The interviewer asks how he feels, the Aussie screams something incoherent at the camera, pulls his shirt over his head and throws back a draught from about two feet from his face – it was awesome. Such a guy.
[6] I went through so many words to get to that one: thumped, pumped, smashed, thrashed, hammered, punished, destroyed - and they were all ambiguous. I’m talking about the Aussies getting beaten, but ‘beaten’ doesn’t have the same great connotations.