future-thoughts

Mood: Friday afternoon
Listening to: The Killers

I am referring to the debacle surrounding Kate Moss' dance with the devil's dandruff.

Who really cares what she does?  And how hyper hypocritical of the fashion industry to turn on her.  Like all the models, photographers, designers and million-dollar clients don't keep Columbia going.  What rubbish. It just makes me sick.

Sure she goes out with a loser, but who cares?  Kids will still do drugs, the Windsors will still interbreed and Diana will still be a coke-headed drug slut.  Nothing will change.

I think they should just get over it.

Mood: Friday, Baby whaddya think?
Listening to: Midday News

Thursday night will go down as one of the better evenings I have spent lately.  I went to dinner at a friend's house, where he cooked a fantastic meal of butternut soup with freshly baked olive loaf.

The a magnificent roast for mains and pie for dessert.  A simple, yet tasty meal, cooked well and eaten with gusto.

I had not met the other two people before, but it was a great success.  Life always challenges perceptions and it's great to find people that you just 'click' with.  No particular reason, just good, honest people who like to chat and meet interesting people.

If the world had more exchanges like this, where people broke bread instead of heads, we would be living in paradise.

Like I said, let us eat cake.

Go on, have a great weekend baby, I dare you to!

Mood: Sleepy
Listening to: People whining about their job... ha ha ha

TV may have been hailed as the Opiate of mass choice, but I think there's something more sinister lurking behind every hack's attempt to enlighten us about Brad, Angelina, Kate Moss and Jude Law's willy.

It's CELEBbration, the obsession with other people that has come to dominate TV, press, print, radio, and the web.  This obsession puts YOUR life on hold while you watch other people live theirs.  The of course we wonder why are lives are not successful.  DO some work of your own instead of watching the 3rd movie of the year by Will Ferrel.

He's making a bundle while you sit there, watching him do it.

It's opium, it's easy, but it's going to make the world far worse in the future.

Get some vision, be your own person, live a little.

Thanks and pass me the salt.

Mood: Full
Listening to: The ticking bomb of class divisions

Last night I went with my girlfriend and two friends to a charity dinner.  It was a 4-course spread put on by some of KZN's top chefs.  Prawns, Duck, Springbok and the usual strange fusion of dessert by the master from Lynton Hall, Richard Carstens.

Of course there were 4 wines selected, one for each course.  It was a good evening, and the tastes were sublime.  After the mains, an auction was held, and tables at the various restaurants were auctioned off.  At R5000 a table, the guests really put their money where their mouth is. 

So orphans got a whole lot of money, and we got a whole bunch of great food and wine.  Great idea, good evening, good success.

I suppose so, but how will it help people in the long run?  Not sure if it will.  We have to give to the less fortunate people in society because they cannot help themselves.  But, will they ever be able to help themselves if we keep giving?  This echoes the inner turmoil the Americans are going through in the wake of Katrina and Rita.  The future does not look so bright for the less fortunate, whichever way you play it.

So we ate and drank and felt jolly good about being so generous.  It would be great, if we never had to do it again.

Perhaps the orphans will be able to eat cake one day soon too.

Mood: Thursday is but a puppy!
Listening to: Smashing Pumpkins try try try

It's been well reported that people succumb to peer pressure. We see it every day, in the most uninteresting ways.

It keeps order in our lives and lets us interact in a logical way.  We queu for an ATM, we stand in line at the supermarket.  That's all well and good.  We say yes please, thank you, good bye, agree with the group to complete a task.

There is a time and place for everything.  100% agreed.

It does scare me that people internalise peer pressure, or cultural norms to the point where they become afraid of their own thoughts.  They are your thoughts, as private as it can get.  But people seem afraid to think outside the box, outside their norms.

It is sad because innovation needs this kind of thought.  Racialism, stereotyping and the abuse that goes hand in had with such things stem from this irrational fear of going against the tide.

Monkey see?

Mood: Surprisingly Sparkle Motion
Listening to: Mimsy music on the radio... DJ get a playlist

Last night I had the strangest dream... I sailed away to China... well, not really.  I had a disturbing dream.  But first let's set the scene.

There's been strange things going on in this country lately with little children.  They're getting kidnapped and killed.  One-a-week stuff, but from people who could hardly pay a Patty Hearst kind of ransom. 

And then there's my friend who got burgled.  He slept through it as they emptied his house.  Apparently the guys burn a good old fashioned CD and the fumes knock you out.  Quite how they manage to stay awake is a bit of a mystery. 

Anyway last night I dreamt I heard a noise in the back garden.  I go outside and there's a scene from hell.  There are two voodoo-type charachters with a burning fire and burning sticks, one of which has just been driven into my brother's ear.  About an inch across and hot.  He's on his knees, in serious pain and these guys are evil and nasty.

I get a wee bit upset and pick up a cricket bat to whack them but then they have some type of force-field around them from the smoke, and my bat shatters about a foot from the one chap's head. 

Clearly we're all in for the same treatment and I work out running away is a fairly good option at this point.  I start off and wake up after running to the front of the house.

Now I'm not sure about it all, but it was pretty nasty.  The ineffectual behaviour relates to the CD story.  But the burning sticks in my brother's ear was not part of the deal which kind of freaked me out a bit. 

It could have something to do with kidnappings, my impending move to the safety of New Zealand or I don't know...

But, my dream shaped my reality this morning and left me a bit shaken.  Admittedly not as much as something like that would have in the past... we live in Africa afterall.

But, like I said, memories are real, no matter how they were manfactured, and he mere fact that I am not about to bury my brother does not mean I dodn't see him with a stick hailed into his head this morning.

Mood: it's Monday give me a break
Listening to: Kaiser Cheifs oh God

Last night I had the great pleasure of having a few sundowners at the BAT centre with my great mate Steve.  The BAT centre is a home for art and craft and it overlooks the harbour. It  is a true hidden treasure of Durban and an authentic cultural melting pot; perhaps the only 'real' example of such a thing in Durban, or perhaps anywhere in SA.

Anyway, we had a few drinks, generally discussing life, art, politics and setting the world to rights.  Steve is a great artist, and decided that he wanted to do a chalk drawing on the restaurant/pub menu board.  So he got and up proceded to draw a very favourable impression of one of the waitresses.

While contemplating the art and watching people admire the work as chalk dust became an image, I began to wonder at the absurdity of putting so much effort into a drawing that is probably gone already.  Wiped over with lunchtime specials for 'Durban Funky Chow', or 'Meilies with Rocket and Sundried Tomatoes'.

However, I realised that 99% of my 'art', my precious writing ends up in an advert, discarded after breakfast and sitting with banana peels by lunch. Or it could end up in a 'Letter-To-The-Editor' with the same lunchtime fate looming around the corner.  Perhaps on a website for a few months before it gets updated, or on a billboard, even in a magazine.  I realised the 'absurdity' was not that things are transient, but that I had not realised this basic fact up until last night, watching my great mate draw Disposable Art on a wall in the BAT Centre. 

Mood: Tired
Listening to: Reasonable pop-type Friday mishy music

Today has been quite interesting in terms of myopic reality.  It's now 4pm or thereabouts and finally I realised that:

It's a nice day outside
The radio is playing nice Friday sounds
The day has almost gone
I've done a whole lot of work and not seen the time go by

I was looking at the clock on the wall and realised it's quarter to 4.  At this point I thought that because the day has been so hectic I have missed it and would like it to be earlier.  Of course unless i change time zones this isn't going to happen.  But just for a second I thought I could, if I wanted to.  And why not... who says it is 3:45pm...

I just had the feeling I was looking at myself look at myself through my eyes, as though my eyes belonged to the body that my mind has taken purchase within.

It's a strange feeling, but I am sure not uncommon.  Living in the 3rd person, anything is possible if you want it to be.

Mood: Manic
Listening to: My mind falling apart

What the hell is that about? 'Good' Friday. If today (and all Fridays are the same) is a measure, there can be no Friday in the history of mankind that could be considered 'good'. A misnomer. A lie. A capitalist treachery designed to make the weekend worth looking forward to.

It's the official day of the week when people wake up from slumber and remember there are "111112 things due Monday morning, no excuses.Thanks. You can call me on my mobile if you need help, I'll bein the Bahamas."

Rock on.  Enjoy your Friday folks, it's the only 16 Sept 2005 you'll ever get.

Mood: Like I've been smoking St John's Wort
Listening to: Interpol, Evil...

The less you have to worry about, the more happy you can be.  Given.  Therefore is it safe to assume that non-thinkers, although they may not get what they want out of life, never really have much to worry about?

They may worry about bread and milk, but these conditions are easily fixed, they are short-term problems. When you're eating, you generally aren't concerned about what to eat next.  Unless you have an eating disorder perhaps, but that's a whole other thing.

Which makes me think that thank god 50% of the world is below average... makes it a happy place... and full of Republicans and Right Wing Conservatives... pity.

Mood: upbeat
Listening to: cars pass in the street

I just heard an amazing talk by the former head of AngloAmerican, Clem Sunter.  A great, if not unusual stroyteller, he's an entertaining and clearly gifted man.

He basically predicts the future of business or whatever by thinking up scenarios and then attaching a probability of them happening to them.  So he thinks of the future but lives very much in the present.

Herein lies the rub.  Upon review I realised that my first entry to this blog sounds mighty pretentious, although it's not meant to be.  There are parallels between what I said and what this chap does.  He predicts events that can either be, or not be a reality of the future.  The future reality created in his head is very much alive and very much as real as what is happening outside today.  It leaves an impression, or 'footprint' if you will on his mind.  After all, he can remember these scenarious even though they have not happened, and most never will occur, being replaced by another 'reality'.

I am not really sure how to go about making this sound like sense, but somewhere in there is an idea, or concept, or something that will reveal itself in due course.

Mood: Happy
Listening to: Café de Afrique

If I am really honest, it's all about me: the way I perceive, my self-indulgence and a yearning to contribute to something.

What? Perhaps the human condition, or uncondition.  What's going to happen in the future and why it probably is going to turn out all inside-out and twisted.

I want to know what people think about.  Is thinking an end to itself? When people who think about 'thinking' are thinking about other things, what are thinking about?

Where are 'we'?  Who are 'we'? What is real, if anything at all?  Is dreaming another reality, but a reality nonetheless?  It's where we can exerience the same emotions after all, and what are memories if not just emotions wrapped up in chemicals.  Who can tell if a memory is a dream or something that 'happened'.  Does it matter and who would care?

I am not seeking answers because I don't necessarily believe there are any.  I just want to know what other people think about all this.