So I’m in university studying a BA course majoring in English Blah blah blah.  I really like it it’s a new experience etcetera and so on and so forth. University of Pretoria is the name to save your breath call it “TUKS” or “UP” or whatever. Blah blah. Anyway this is what I think of it so far. Blah. This is what I write when I’m supposed to be studying and these are my general thought trends when in class.

I have been in Tuks for 3weeks and well it’s enjoyable, worth it and enlightening. In a few words I love it. But, here are a couple things I hate.

People who laugh at every single joke a lecturer utters, and that’s including the lame ones. Pretending to enjoy dim jokes to look favourable to your lecturer is called butt licking, and to those who are experts at it, brown nosing. Please do it when the rest of us are not around and to the lecturer, jokes you hear at a pub after 2am are not suitable for any other time.

People who say the administration building looks like a ship. It’s a building that looks like a building okay?  Just because the humanities building is tall, rectangular and white, doesn’t mean it looks like Clint Eastwood. I have tried to look at it from all angles including inside, and no that building does not look anything like an object that can even float.

Girls who wear footwear that doesn’t match their bodies, especially gladiator sandals, I mean the ones with a material flap going up the ankles. It doesn’t make any girls legs look any prettier; by the way, those sandals look like a leather strap with a large used condom tangled in it. Yuk. It sounds nasty but seriously take note of the shape and size of your leg before you wear footwear. It’s called matching, wear something that complements your body.

Girls who arrive late into lectures, wearing sunglasses and expecting a round of applause for looking good irritate me. Yes, you might look attractive and have the stride of a super model in your walk, but you came late. A pun is intended.

This annoys me a lot: Students that hold discussions, amongst themselves, during lectures and need to be repeatedly told to shut up. If you bored in a lecture write notes, draw the lecturer or just fall asleep. The rest of the class has come to learn, please leave us to do just that without forcing us to thinking of nasty words to call you.

I don’t really mean this in a bad way but I cannot stand over achievers, especially those who brag about it. It annoys me because I can never match their achievements and they make it sound like it was so easy. One chap was going on about how he was having problems with his umbilical cord and how He, as a fetes, then invented Bluetooth to solve that communication bungle. He sold the idea when he was born and is now retired since the age seven. Well, that’s how I understood it.

This one is typical of most black girls even though they might deny it. Many black girls carry around a small tub of Vaseline and constantly moisturise their hands, lips, (here is the bomb) and the inside of their nostrils (Don’t look around I’m talking to you). That’s not the end of it, what’s worse is you will see them sharing this concoction of Vaseline which now has a wee bit of saliva and snot. Need I say more? There’s one word I have for you ladies, hygiene.

Besides the above Tuks is the place to be. I wish all the best to everyone for the year, especially the first year students. Study hard, attend lectures and visit Oom Gerts. Repeatedly. Oom Gerts is a pub on campus. Hehe. Get it, get it? (Someone feed me I’m hungry and bored)

Last Sunday I was at a soccer tournament, representing a sponsor and all of Big Nuz fans who were not there. I looked forward to it, after all, we are getting ready for the soccer world cup, also known as “2010!”, to most rural blacks. A total of eight teams were to participate in a knockout of Diski (S.A street name for soccer) flair. The action was scheduled to kick off at 8 o'clock sharp and I had made sure we left home early to get the branding up and ready way before the start.

 

So 10 minutes before we got to the stadium or what is supposed to be a stadium, depending on your description of a stadium. The “stadium” looked more like a grazing patch for cows on death row who had developed a drinking problem. Anyway 10 minutes out we called the man who was the organizer but a lady from Vodacom told us he was “not available” and that we should try again later. Eventually we got hold of him and planned to meet at a parking lot, where we played “can you see me now?” with him over the phone. Eventually a black man dressed in some soccer tee written “Essien” on the back with a “morning after” face, declared he was the contact.

 

We then followed his car to the stadium, to find that we were the first ones there! 45 minutes before the scheduled kick off of a 7 match soccer tournament the poles were not in place, the two fields were not marked, the bathrooms and change rooms were not opened, no teams had arrived and the organizer, let’s call him Essien, assured us everything was fine, he assured me saying “aah yah, yah.” So I felt assured.

 

At 8 o'clock, the original start time, Essien gave us an update on the developments of his profound plan. He said “we have a slight delay, now we will start at 10.” So I relaxed in our van and browse through a newspaper, I read about a man who wrote a book titled “getting green between the sheets” and I was enlightened, yet again, why people burn or burn newspapers after reading them. Oh, and why the extreme people also use newspaper to clean themselves. In the backside. What? They do.

 

Anyway, the four teams finally arrived in three taxies and a small pink and brown bus all blasting house music to annoy any white people. At 10:30 the teams started to get dressed, the sun got very hot, the newspaper got very boring and the organizer modeled around more often to look busy.

 

At 11:45 the first match got underway and I did not even bother to watch as they all ran around the pitch screaming “pass, pass” like 6 year old girls on a high. After the group stage games, the final round loser’s played each other for the third place, and the winners played each other in the final. The play off was fine but the final was one sided, final score 7-0. It was like Barcelona vs. my mom and her girl friends. What’s the girl name for that? Shame.

 

After having months to prepare an annual event how on earth did the man organizing fail to get half the participants, fail to start on time, fail to organize teams that can actually play soccer, fail to get the venue ready on time, fail to actually do his job and failed to even look awake?

 

One of the other sponsors, a white man, commented “from Cape to Cairo all black people are the same, they cannot plan” I said to him, in my brain “shut your trap, you are generalizing, white people can't dance!” but after I gave it some thought I asked myself, where did the term “African time” come from? If it was false what “this oak” had just accused black people of? Its true and sad many black people fail to plan and execute the plan accordingly, that’s why we are seen as people who need to be governed. It has to stop; we must be responsible and efficient in order to be respectable and successful as black people.

 

Let’s stop the cycle, end the cycle, break the cycle or whatever. “African time” should not exist in the nation we claim we are and want to be.

 If you think somewhere in Soweto someone has your uncles missing BMW, your iPod, someone else's TV and my shoes, you probably right. Nevertheless on the 13^th and 14^th of November the Italians brought the very best of Italian cars, a scooter, fashion, beer, cuisine and certainly not the best English speaker to the home of men with matchsticks in their mouths.

Lights, Music and Chesa! The much awaited Italian lifestyle party got the streets of Pimville Soweto in a buzz on a cool Saturday evening with clear skies and a gentle breeze. Top of the range cars, minibus taxis, a beaming Ferrari, a scooter and a lot of high heels littered the Changeroom lounge like plastic bags in front of a shopping center after payday. Cafe Peroni nastro azzuro, Ferrari the Italian passion and Superga who the hell makes these clothes were all present in glamor and the sounds of deep house DJ Glen Lewis, Claude, China, Kid funqui; Killa Marfa and fresca got heads bobbing and the Ferrari screaming like the hulk. Or like a 12 year old girl depending on the version of the hulk you might have seen. Very surprisingly a very large number of people attended the function, while the DJ played the latest house tunes, cameras flashed at television personality; excited people laughed and chatted away enjoying the Italian world and its glamor. The idea was brilliant and showcased true Italian flavor to a community open to anything colorful and that occasionally gives out freebies.

The chef was quite busy. He made food that sent an appetizing aroma through what was once the home of Nelson Mandela. And that was nice. I was bounced out of the fine dining area because my tag was not green. I had a white tag. To get the food drizzled in extra virgin olive oil, red wine and castle light, I had to have a green tag meaning I had to be either rich, famous or both. So I watched a little as the platters were served and emptied quite quickly. So I guess the cuisine, like usual, was not at all a waste of digestion fluids.

The night was historical since the Italians never came around to the previously notorious streets of Soweto and the Sowetans never thought of visiting Italy. The layout was superb the sound was crystal clear and the event was well executed, although it lacked a dance floor and the DJ was hidden in a dark corner. One cannot play the hottest dance numbers and expect the crowd to sit and clap. For the same reason why soft porn is a bad idea. The cat walk was very well lit, clear and trendy and the models wore their attire with pride. At first I thought I would see products from the very stylish and successful fashion houses of Gucci, Armani, Prada, Laura Biagiotti and Fendi. Instead I saw what Mr Price and Jet usually dump in a large basket labeled “half price or buy one get one free” towards the end of the show, the big guns came out. The silk ties, leather shoes and dark wet hair neatly brushed backwards got the ladies screaming and men whistling. The show focused on summer clothing and then semi casual fashion. A lot of the men’s clothing used bright colors and a simple finish. The dresses however were quite loose and mostly the traditional white and blue or blue and white, but they certainly were not a flop. The vibe of the now newly merged cultures I call “sowetaly” took an ordinary evening to another level, and for those who missed it, I only have on word for you. eish!

All in all it was a fantastic evening. But why Soweto? Why bring Peroni to the capital of black label loyalty? Why bring the most expensive fashion labels to struggling people? And the scooter? Seriously. Soweto is the most popular township in South Africa especially among the black people. Its historical significance is vital, as many incidents that changed South Africa happened there. Stats South Africa estimates 1,3 million people call Soweto home and that the majority of them rank the poorest in Johannesburg. Most live in cheap “matchbox” housing and hostels, a significant number of them are unemployed or receive just enough to get by and I think a lot of feather duster salesmen live there too.

If you have been in South Africa long enough you will have seen a person covered in the latest fashion but living in a shack. You would have also seen a half million rand sport car, rolling into a filling station bearing a ridiculous custom plate, and the driver only to produce a R20 note for petrol. And surely you have seen a lady wearing a R500 hairstyle and then having to spending the rest of the month traveling by train or even having to walk long distances. The black people come to mind all of a sudden. Yes, we are materialistic and the Italians have noticed a black person will rather eat bread and dress well rather than eat well and dress average. It’s not everybody who has this “tendency” but the majority is all about the looks. It’s a sad situation we find ourselves in, and one we have to stop before we can get success in life as black people. It’s easy to look rich and successful but many are not prepared to work hard and actually be wealthy and successful. Let me put it in a simple way, all black people will comprehend, weather one eats chicken in a Gucci outfit or in a no name brand, the chicken tastes the same.

As we have been freed from political oppression we put ourselves in the bondage of financial restrain and we yet have to accomplish economic liberation. As the saying goes “eish, Bantu education killed us”

I was out with my friends in Cape Town, to watch a movie on Saturday night in a mall. The idea was to watch the new Leon Schuster movie “something Tshabalala” “Smacks or Schucks tshalala” I think, A Leon Schuster survival guide to South Africa during the 2010 Soccer World Cup. South Africa is also known as Mzansi, by the way. Mzansi is Zulu for bottom, just like down under is logical for Australia (South Africa my beloved country, the land of taxies, “tannies”, 2010, shopping centres next to other shopping centres and shopping centres at robots as well as shopping centres in other shopping centres.)

Anyway, I had a hard time picking a movie when I saw what other movies they had besides the one of Schuster guiding foreign people through the beloved country. The thing about the Schuster movie was the poster. It had a typical Schuster look. Green back ground, Shuster smiling, the fat little boy who looks like a man, another Schuster wearing a wig and a parental guidance where there should be a “view at own risk this guy is a freak”. It was just too typical and old news, It stimulated the same amount of interest in me that, a poster promoting a documentary about bird watching and tree hugging in Jamaica during the 60’s would.
Getting back to my movie outing, I decided to rather watch a movie starring Leonardo Dicaprio “Inception” because it looked cool on the poster, bad luck for me, after the first 45minutes I realised that I could find more entertainment by watching the empty seats next to me. So I bailed and went to a restaurant to have a drink with myself and indulged my thoughts in how much I would like to get my money back. Let me explain what I understood from the Dicaprio flick, it was about Dicaprio dreaming that he can dream that he was dreaming in his dream and then dream that he was dreaming in his dream, so that he can put an idea into a wealthy man’s head, while he was dreaming in his own dream. So he could eventually stop fighting with his wife when he dreams. Which brought me to the conclusion that he really needed to see a psychologist or that America will sometime run out of anti-depressant medication. (I know I know the environment was probably punishing me for choosing Hollywood over Local) Who would have known?

What really got me puzzled is the abundance of shopping malls all over the country. I thought people were stripped of every bit of money they had lately. Is the credit crunch selective in who it de-credits? Because from the looks of things there was hardly an effect in S.A or the credit crunch “is racist” as comrade Julius would put it, or maybe the Soccer World Cup left us swimming in Benjamin’s? If people are really losing jobs, getting less pay and if inflation has really gone through the roof, even with people living in double story houses then how come so many new malls are being erected? Whatever the answer is, the situation looks better than what I understood it would be. Whatever you do, if you want to watch an entertaining movie, Inception is not a great choice. Unless you the type that enjoys day dreaming about day dreaming about watching a bird watcher hugging trees...

In support of my brother (who wrote the content), the beloved country (SA), the blog roll population (who will post the content tomorrow) and the entertainment masterminds also known as the ANC youth league. (who will fart on the idea in parliament).

SpeakZA
Bloggers For a Free Press

Last week, shocking revelations concerning the activities of the ANC Youth League spokesperson Nyiko Floyd Shivambu came to the fore. According to a letter published in various news outlets, a complaint was laid by 19 political journalists with the Secretary General of the ANC, against Shivambu. This complaint letter detailed attempts by Shivambu to leak a dossier to certain journalists, purporting to expose the money laundering practices of Dumisani Lubisi, a journalist at the City Press. The letter also detailed the intimidation that followed when these journalists refused to publish these revelations.

We condemn in the strongest possible terms the reprisals against journalists by Shivambu. His actions constitute a blatant attack on media freedom and a grave infringement on Constitutional rights. It is a disturbing step towards dictatorial rule in South Africa.

We call on the ANC and the ANC Youth League to distance themselves from the actions of Shivambu. The media have, time and again, been a vital democratic safeguard by exposing the actions of individuals who have abused their positions of power for personal and political gain.

The press have played a vital role in the liberation struggle, operating under difficult and often dangerous conditions to document some of the most crucial moments in the struggle against apartheid. It is therefore distressing to note that certain people within the ruling party are willing to maliciously target journalists by invading their privacy and threatening their colleagues in a bid to silence them in their legitimate work.

We also note the breathtaking hubris displayed by Shivambu and the ANC Youth League President Julius Malema in their response to the letter of complaint. Shivambu and Malema clearly have no respect for the media and the rights afforded to the media by the Constitution of South Africa. Such a response serves only to reinforce the position that the motive for leaking the so-called dossier was not a legitimate concern, but a insolent effort to intimidate and bully a journalist who had exposed embarrassing information about the Youth League President.

We urge the ANC as a whole to reaffirm its commitment to media freedom and other Constitutional rights we enjoy as a country.

Blog Roll

http://thoughtleader.co.za/siphohlongwane
http://rwrant.co.za
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/munadia/
http://vocfm.co.za/blogs/shafiqmorton/
http://blogs.news24.com/needpoint
http://capetowngirl.co.za
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sentletsediakanyo
http://thoughtleader.co.za/davidjsmith
http://letterdash.com/one-eye-only
http://boyuninterrupted.blogspot.com
http://amandasevasti.com
http://blog.empyrean.co.za/
http://letterdash.com/brencro
http://6000.co.za
http://chrisroper.co.za
http://pieftw.com
http://hamishpillay.wordpress.com
http://memoirs4kimya.blogspot.com
http://thoughtleader.co.za/azadessa
http://watkykjy.co.za
http://fredhatman.co.za
http://thelifeanddeathchronicles.blogspot.com/
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/common-dialogue/
http://www.clivesimpkins.blogs.com/
http://mashadutoit.wordpress.com
http://nicharalambous.com  
http://sarocks.co.za 
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/stompies/
http://helenmoffett.book.co.za/blog/
http://01universe.blogspot.com
http://groundwork.worpress.com
http://iwrotethisforyou.me
http://fionasnyckers.book.co.za
http://attentiontodetail.wordpress.com
http://blogs.women24.com/editor
http://www.missmillib.blogspot.com
http://snowgoose.co.za
http://dreamfoundry.co.za
http://www.vanoodle.blogspot.com
http://www.exmi.co.za/.co.za
http://cat-dubai.blogspot.com
http://alistairfairweather.com
http://www.zanedickens.com
http://www.nickhuntdavis.com
http://guysa.blogspot.com
http://book.co.za
http://baldy.co.za
http://skinnylaminx.com
http://blogs.african-writing.com/zukiswa
http://www.mielie.wordpress.com
http://blogs.timeslive.co.za/gatherer/
http://thoughtleader.co.za/sarahbritten
http://stii.co.za
http://blogs.news24.com/FSB_AP
http://twistedkoeksuster.blogspot.com
http://whensmokegetsinyoureyes.blogspot.com/
http://trinklebean.wordpress.com
http://commentry.wordpress.com/
http://matthewbuckland.com
http://blogs.news24.com/colour-me-fran
http://gormendizer.co.za

May our voice be heard and may we not take an avid interest in politics lest we become 5 year old toddlers in heart, IQ and tantrum throwing (Mr president, wink wink). I don't mean all politicians are lighties, I'm aware that it's 99% of "them" that give the rest a bad name.