Sunday, October 30, 2005
All Hallow's Eve
Tomorrow is Samhain. Or Halloween, depending on your persuasion.
These days it seems everyone has an opinion about it; after being battered by puritanical christian propaganda it's made a resurgence here in the UK, influenced no doubt by it's popularity in the USA, home of mass-marketing.
Anyone who knows the "Devils Night Greeting Cards" speech from the Crow will know what I'm getting at.
What gets me is the way some people still view it. For example, I asked one of my co-workers if they did the whole sweets-at-the-door thing, and was told that they most definitely did not, thank you.
She went on to say that she could not see why she, as a devout christian, should have to be made to take part in something that so blatantly has its roots in satanism and is only played out here because 'it's cool to copy America'.
And that was from someone who is,by all accounts, well educated and otherwise relatively normal. It was not at all what I expected from her.
It's sad that such narrow minded ignorance still crops up. I was tempted to try and argue it with her, but somehow I reckoned the 10 minutes of lunch I had left just wouldn't be enough.
I simply can't understand that mentality. If I don't understand something, I'll ask questions about it. Or get a book out of the library. Or look it up on the 'net.
I wouldn't bury my head in the sand and let Hollywood educate me.
South Africa doesn't have much of a Halloween tradition, so I didn't have anyone's opinions to colour my perception of it when I was growing up.
I was about 13 when I first realised it was more than the title of a movie. I like it. I like the idea of connecting to something that's so tangibly old; I like the whole feel of it.
I may not have a raging bonfire tomorrow night, but a fire will none the less be lit, and those kids brave enough to venture into the dark and knock on this stranger's door will be invited to grab a handful of treats from the cauldron.
Hell, I may even leave out the booby-trapped ones this year.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
You sexy thing you
Look, I found it in my nose!Rumour has it that the Lords' are trying to sneak through a Bill in parliament whereby it would be illegal for Cherie Blair to smile or talk at any public function.
That really would be shame though, since we'd be deprived of her magnificent dress sense and raw sex appeal.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Are you not entertained?
.......I've shamelessly nicked this from Bruce Campbell's site because (a) I agree completely (and (b) he says it so damn well and (c) his eyes kept following me and I felt strangely compelled to spread the Gospel.
" Just between you and me, what's the deal with this whole "extreme" thing? I was in an unrated horror film called Evil Dead 20 years ago, so I know the meaning of the word, but do we really need to see a guy get liquidated on the side of a bus during Most Twisted Police Chases? Is good journalism defined by showing some poor bastard being electrocuted on a power line? Call me old-fashioned, but I don't think so.
Sports have led the charge in pushing the envelope. I've seen a few of those ESPN "extreme sports," and although mildly amusing, they should be renamed, Idiots Trying to Kill Themselves. Aren't we starting to feel a little bit like those Roman emperors, conjuring up new forms of decadence to keep us from, God forbid, being bored? You know things are bad when nature channels have shows like Extreme Earth.
Maybe too much entertainment is hazardous to our health. That may be an absurd statement coming from someone who makes his living in the same industry, but I'm serious.
I guess I'm just a simpleton, but when I was a kid in the 60's, playing in the dirt was enough to pass countless hours and I wasn't even raised by wolves. As a pre-Nintendo teenager, I spent entire days (during summer no less) fishing. When I sought out entertainment, it was usually in front of the TV watching insipid but harmless shows. How the hell did we get from the fantasy of Gilligan's Island to the hyper-reality of The World's Grossest Deaths in such a short time? What's next, The Carnage and Mayhem Channel?
Maybe I've been living in a dream world, but I don't recall a grassroots movement to demand the current brand of sensory overload entertainment. Imagine zipping off the following letter to your favorite network:
Dear Mr. Network Executive,
I am bored. Please make stuff that will shock and horrify me, or I will no longer support your sponsors.
John DoeAnytown USA.
The moral of this short story is simply to think about what's entertaining us and ask a few questions, like: will it make us feel better about ourselves or will it slam dunk our view of humanity into the dirt?
Does it bear repeating tomorrow around the water cooler, and if so, what will the conversation be?
"Joe, did you see when that guy running from the cops got hit by that beer truck?"
"Yeah - wow, what a mess!"
Most importantly, ask yourself if that video game, TV show or film is worth your precious time. Let's look beyond the road kill fascination and see what's really being offered up. If your favorite talk show requires a small army of security guards to keep toothless Grade School drop-outs from killing each other, that's cool, but you also have the right to turn the damn thing off. Give it a try some time - it's what you might call a "remote" possibility.
Best,Bruce Campbell"
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm in favour of sports like K-1, extreme skiing and so on. The participants are trained athletes/ professionals and it's fantastic to watch. I'll freely admit to cackling over some of the replays of K.O's or wipeouts.
What shivers my scales is the whole reality TV phenomena, a prime example being this quintessential bit of televised crap from our european cousins.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the term "eurotrash" was coined for a reason.
Seriously. Who the fuck watches crap like that? That is not entertainment.
That's just cause to haul out grandpa's WWII flamethrower and purge the world of sentient excrement.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Shop smart, shop S-Mart.
One man. One chin.A lot gets said around the house about my taste in movies... much to most of my friends merriment, I seem to have a predilection for movies that most consider.. well, borderline crap.
Pfagh! Philistines.
Much groaning abounds if I open the grey cabinet when people are visiting.
For therein lurks a treasure trove of b-grade gems, painstakingly collected through e-bay and shadowy retail outlets throughout our little isle.
The only one missing, the crown jewel itself, is Army of Darkness.
Hail to the King indeed.
I was introduced to this cinematographic shiny by Captain Veg during our stint in the army.
Well, I think it was after our army days, on one of my visits to the north.
I was hooked... I think thats where it all stems from...so if you need to blame someone, go to Preston and knock on his door.
There's something just so delightfully, unashamedly cheesy (no offence) to these movies.. it forces you to sigh loudly,cuddle the popcorn a bit tighter, and just sit back and enjoy the happy antics of the shuffling undead with complete abandon.
Mind you, Christmas is coming.
Maybe I should try nicking a trick from the wimminfolk of the world and drop hints.
But then, I'm a man and am therefore immune to innuendo of any sort.
I wouldn't know a hint if it bit me on the ass.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Shiny And New!
Welcome to my *New!* *Improved!* Shiny new SuperBlog, courtesy of the missus.
Pretty farking cool, I think. :o)
I am rather proud of it and Mrs G, who has recently found herself exploring the hitherto unknown world of html and it's cousins with a ferocity and abandon that's surprised both of us, in a good way.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Badda Bing
Fun For Everyone in 3 Easy Steps:
1. Go to Google.
2. Type in the word "Failure".
3. Click "I'm Feeling Lucky".
Chortle away, but spare a thought for the programmer who hasn't realised that the CIA are watching his house right now, and wondering if his neighbours are the types to report a single gunshot at 3 in the morning..
Yet again I find myself alone in the office, stressing over the towering monstrosity that is my
"In Tray".
And I can't help wondering if I'm a workaholic or if I've just got lousy time management skills.
Or maybe I've just got a shitload of work to do and don't want to exacerbate matters by leaving it to fester until the next day.
Leaving work for the next day is like letting a family of asylum seekers into the country.
It seems harmless enough and you think you're doing the right thing- after all, everyone else is.
The next thing you know, you neck deep in it, it's going to take a miracle to undo the damage and the light at the end of the tunnel is a train. With more of them clinging to its sides.
Friday, October 14, 2005
In God We Trust?A while back we re-shuffled our office, as companies are wont to do now and then. I was off the day my desk was moved though… but the girl (well, she’s in her mid 20’s,..do I call her a girl or a young woman? Calling her a ‘Young Woman’ makes me feel like I should be wearing a cardigan, driving a sensible car and be going to bed at 8 every night) who sat next to me was kind enough to box my stuff on my behalf.
I subsequently moved departments and haven’t had a chance to chat with her since the move. Today though I bumped into her in the kitchen while making some coffee, and we chatted about this, that and whatever while waiting for our battered kettle to do its job (if that kettle were a person it would be Woody Allen with prosthetic limbs and emphysema riddled lungs).
Anyway, whilst pouring some milk into her tea, the conversation took the a bit of a twist:
Girl: “Oh, did you find your little icon thing? I had to take it off your monitor when we moved it. I hope you don’t mind.”
Me: “Erm,” I said, “what are you talking about?”
Girl: “This is embarrassing” said she, “I’m not sure if it’s God or Moses. I must be honest, I didn’t realise you were that religious.”
Me: “I had God on my monitor?”
Girl: “Yes.”
In a dim recess of my mind something went click.
Me: “The small man with the beard?” said I.
Girl: “Yes, that’s him.”
Me: “That’s Gandalf.”
I think she may suspect that my friendly “Don’t worry, I understand” response was less than sincere because of the laughter which followed her back to her desk.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Desk with a view.
Several of my colleagues are a bit computerphobic, to the extent where they file right clicking in the same category as advanced quantum physics.
So, it's a source of constant amusement and/or wonder to them that I change my desktop wallpaper on a daily basis.. the fact is, I like having something nice to look at while I'm sitting on hold squeezing the life out of my little rubber stress-brick.
Today I discovered Todd Adams' site- it's an absolute treasure trove :)
Well done Todd- you have some truly admirable shots in there!
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Firefly, evolved.
"I swallowed a bug."
Go see this movie.
It's as simple as that.
If you, like me, couldn't have given 2 shits for Luke Skywalker's angst and instead wanted to go blasting across the galaxy with Han Solo, you'll love it, there's no two ways about it.
Why on God's green earth the studios cancelled it after season 1, I really don't know. Firefly has a huge following, and once audiences have a chance to enjoy a decent sci-fi movie that doesn't pull its punches and delivers the goods I have no doubt this baby is going to snowball.
Go see it. Now.
Go.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Never mind Eee-rack, me baby's sick
As usual, the pout-monster and her blank-eyed hubby are splashed across the papers and news because one of their kids is ill, apparently having some sort of fit/ convulsion.
Unconfirmed reports suggest that each fit was preceded by his new nanny trying to dress him in clothes from Primark.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Mountains don't pay bills
In keeping with my recent bout of homesickness, I've had a some nice pics of Cape town as my wallpaper on my work PC.Inevitably, one of my English colleagues asked the question: "Is that Cape Town? Whoa, it's gorgeous. Why'd you leave that to move here?"
Here's the thing. A pretty view doesn't pay the bills.
After I left high school, I did my national service, and a month or so after leaving the army I started working at the bank. I worked hard and got on with things.... after meeting Mrs G and getting her into the bank as well (it's never what you know, it's always who you know) we both decided to do some further studying into bank related subjects. You need to give the boss a reason to promote you, you see.
We studied hard, put in the hours and got our diplomas.
Certificates in our grubby hands we went off to see Clive, a.k.a The Man. He, in his usual style, laid it out plainly for us-- We were both white and already near the top of our salary scale.
We studied hard, put in the hours and got our diplomas.
Certificates in our grubby hands we went off to see Clive, a.k.a The Man. He, in his usual style, laid it out plainly for us-- We were both white and already near the top of our salary scale.
There was no way he could consider us for promotion or an increase for the next 7 - 8 years.
I'm still grateful to him for not sugar-coating the truth. Affirmative action is a bastard.
A few days later we were sipping tea, watching an episode of Highlander, the one where McLeod (Adrian Paul) goes to Scotland for the first time in yonks..they were doing these wide, sweeping aerial shots of the Highlands- we fell in love with Scotland, and what started out as a fanciful notion branched into full scale research into immigration. Six months later we were drawing deep breaths of fresh January air outside Earl's Court station.
Getting back to the question though- why did we move here? - because here, despite London being considered expensive, your money means something.
With £1 I can buy myself lunch at the local supermarket. The price of a new jeep is less than my annual salary. I can go to a bookshop and buy a book and go to a coffee shop, have a big ass cappucino and a croissant and still have change left from £10.
It's also the little things like being able to drive around with my windows down. I can even stop at traffic lights at night. I don't have to spend my life's savings to go on a holiday break in Europe.
It's all the things people over here take for granted, and I live in fear of the day that I no longer recognise how lucky I am to be here.
I'm still grateful to him for not sugar-coating the truth. Affirmative action is a bastard.
A few days later we were sipping tea, watching an episode of Highlander, the one where McLeod (Adrian Paul) goes to Scotland for the first time in yonks..they were doing these wide, sweeping aerial shots of the Highlands- we fell in love with Scotland, and what started out as a fanciful notion branched into full scale research into immigration. Six months later we were drawing deep breaths of fresh January air outside Earl's Court station.
Getting back to the question though- why did we move here? - because here, despite London being considered expensive, your money means something.
With £1 I can buy myself lunch at the local supermarket. The price of a new jeep is less than my annual salary. I can go to a bookshop and buy a book and go to a coffee shop, have a big ass cappucino and a croissant and still have change left from £10.
It's also the little things like being able to drive around with my windows down. I can even stop at traffic lights at night. I don't have to spend my life's savings to go on a holiday break in Europe.
It's all the things people over here take for granted, and I live in fear of the day that I no longer recognise how lucky I am to be here.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Dodgems
Since it was payday on Friday, I thought it'd be nice to nip down to Greenwich market and pick up some fresh ground coffee from my favourite vendor there. The missus & I hopped into Dead Reckoning and headed off after a bite to eat.
Not even a mile later, it started. Heading down towards the Homebase on Bromley road, some absolute dickhead in his little BMW overtook a car on his side of the road- who was doing the speed limit, btw- by weaving out widely, into our lane. That would have been OK if we hadn't been less than 70 metres away. If you're reading this buddy, you're an arsehole. I was doing about 35 and you were doing at least 50 (mph).... 70 Metres isn't much when you add them together. If I hadn't swerved left the doctors would still be trying to remove my key ring from your forehead. Learn to drive. Or,preferably, go boil your head until you die.
I wonder if it's actually National Lemming Day today? I swear, 1 out of every 10 cars we saw today was doing something utterly stupid, even more so than usual. I am absolutely amazed we didn't see any accidents on the way.
In retrospect I should thank the black taxi drivers of Cape Town for giving me such a thorough education in defensive driving... If you can drive from Wynberg to Cape Town along Main Road without reaching for your hooter or your gun, you can drive anywhere.
Except maybe Cairo and around the Arc D'Triomphe.
When I've won the lottery (not if, when) I'm going to get myself a veee-hickle with a bit more road presence, and since I'm going to be a millionaire and won't have to worry about expensive insurance premiums, I'm not going to be taking evasive action so that you can avoid the consequences of your own reckless stupidity.
I'm going to look down on the wreckage of your car and go tsk tsk, please stop bleeding on the chrome.
Hey..
Got a light?
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