Friday last week: Much of my evening was spent in one of the local government hospitals. I was fine, but the guy who I was there for was not. He's just been hit by a car while crossing an intersection on his motorbike. The whole incident happened as I arrived to fetch my father from our church. He'd been informed that one of the young men from the church had just been hit by a car and we had to get to him as soon as possible.
At the scene, paramedics worked rapidly and diligently to stabilise him and determine the extent of his injuries. He was then transported via ambulance to a local government hospital. We followed and ended up waiting in the ER for news of his condition. While the scenario was not one that I would wish on anyone, there was one thing that emerged as the lighter side of the evening...
I'm not sure how things are in the rest of the world, but here in South Africa, a Friday night is the night that you really don't want to have to go to a government hospital. Our government hospitals are pretty bad as is, but are the only health care available to people who don't have or cannot afford medical aid schemes and thus the luxury of a private hospital. The setting is made so much worse on a Friday because Friday nights are nights of revelry and drinking.
As we sat in the ER, a man in his 40's arrived, walking very slowly and unsteadily into the ER from the main waiting area at reception. He was clearly sozzled, but as I looked around I realised that there were very few in the ER that were not, so thought nothing of it. However, this man was different; he was on a mission.
He moved with unsteady purpose to the guy who ran the ER. I'm not sure of the job description for someone who prioritises ER cases, but I shall refer to him as Clive (I also don't know what his name was, so I can't even use that...). As the subject approached Clive, he began to speak to him in hushed tones. He spoke in English but so quietly that there was no way to understand what he was saying. Clive, having heard the full extent of his slurred story, spoke rather loudly and instructed the man to speak to the people at reception.
The subject nodded his head slowly and did a half turn back toward reception before the penny, well, didn't so much as drop as gracefully ooze through his alcohol-laden brain. Clive had not given him the help he wanted! With the sluggish fury that only the inebriated can muster, he rotated back to Clive for a repeat performance.
But Clive, moving at the pace of a normal person, was not there! Obviously befuddled and annoyed, he gyrated again to shuffle to the ER help desk. Ironically, and unfortunately for Clive, Clive had moved behind the desk to collect and deposit paperwork. As Clive looked up and saw the drunkard approaching, he moved quickly, shuffling papers and trying to get things in order before the drunkard could get to him. Alas, he was too slow.
The drunkard arrived, apparently pleased to see Clive behind the desk. He began to recount he tale to Clive again, but Clive, obviously a conscientious man, had a job to do and would not tolerate this man's ramblings much longer. He instructed the drunkard to step aside and that he would help him in a moment.
Apparently pleased with the outcome, the drunkard obliged, standing in the centre of the chaotic ER, occasionally swaying from side to side with a look of complete incomprehension on his face. A moment later, Clive emerged and took his new chum aside. He informed the man that his wife, who he was apparently here to see, was in the Gynecology ward on the first floor and that it was well past visiting hours, but they would allow him to go up and see her. Apparently satisfied with this, the drunkard inquired as to how to get to the Gynecology ward. Clive, having given up on being civil, told him in a stiff tone to take the elevator. Apparently we had all underestimated just how much revelry our subject had engaged in because his next question must have really been the last straw for Clive.
'But how do I get the elevator to work?'
Clive, now stiffling chuckles, instructed him to press the number '1' button on the panel in the elevator and it would take him to the floor he wanted. The man appeared satisfied with this and slower than before rotated toward the elevator. Having performed a 180 turn, he then turned back to the space where Clive had been. This time, his wobbly anger was directed at the hospital as an institution. He began to mutter things like, 'What button? I don't see any button here!' and 'What kind of a hospital is this?!' all while pressing his thumb to random sections of the wall in the hopes that they would activate the elevator and transport him to the floor above.
After about 5 min of observing this, one of our party took pity on the man and guided him to the elevator, put him into it and pressed the appropriate button for him. We assume he found his wife because we never saw him again. That or he collapsed somewhere and slept it off...
Showing posts with label Stupid people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stupid people. Show all posts
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Engrish!
Some pictures from the ever-entertaining China-Mart!
The menus at the restaurant were princess themed...
Spiced Chemical Egg! My favourite!
Chicken omlettle! Another personal favourite!
Ever need to teach your children the meaning of contradiction? Why not buy them a 'grumpy-baby-with-smiley-face' doll?
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
...all we wanted was some milk!
As occasionally happens when one is a professional student, one becomes overwhelmed by the sheer amount of procrastination that one undertakes and is forced to take a step outside, away from all the work and non-working, to clear ones head. I was offered the opportunity to do so today when Leia, discovering that we were out of milk, decided that she was going to go and walk to the shops to buy some. She too was procrastinating and thus, it was better for both parties involved to just take that step and leave the lab...
We walked down to the shops of the Matrix (our student centre where purveyors of everything sweet and greasy ply their trade; if I ever get heart disease, I'll be blaming it on the Matrix...). We walked into the 7/11, deep in meaningless conversation about the perils of the student life, or something to that effect. As we approached the wall of glass doors that are the fridges, we discovered to our horror that there was a large empty space where the milk usually took residence.
In utter disbelief, Leia shuffled from door to door, examining the contents of each fridge, in the vein hope of finding that one carton that somehow went unnoticed by previous shoppers. Unfortunately it was not to be.
Conceding defeat, she announced that they had no milk and together we forlornly left the store.
BUT WAIT! There is also the Cafe Fino in Senate House! Perhaps they might have [ridiculously overpriced] milk!
With the hope of this revelation in our hearts, we began to trek up the hill to Senate House. We arrived through on of the side entrances and continued down the 'Disability Unit' corridor. Just as we were reaching the end of the corridor, the person who had been walking in the opposite direction to us stopped and spoke to us.
She looked Mediterranean, about 50+ years of age and wore an ochre/orange jacket. Her hair was died an impossible blond and had the fatigued look of a little too much time at the office. She started by asking us if there was an exit that took her to the traffic lights in the direction that we had come. A little confused as to what she was asking I responded with silent blinking.
Leia, a little more on the ball than I, requested clarification. It turned out that the woman worked in the block north of the university and had come in to pay something but had somehow gotten lost on campus. She had found the financial office but now needed to return to her car which she had parked near a set of traffic lights on campus.
'Oh...!' I recounted internally. I proceeded to offer her a detailed description of a route that would take her directly to the traffic lights she sought. The route was not complicated; literally just walk in one direction, in a straight line until you reach the road. Then turn right, following the road down the hill. Et viola!
Clearly uncertain, the woman thanked us and proceeded to walk the suggested route, muttering something about how despite her navigational skills she had other redeeming features. Feeling that the incident had concluded, Leia and I resumed our conversation.
A few words into the chat, we were again accosted by the lost woman. This time in a rather determined tone, she asked if there wasn't an alternative route through one of the passages to her left. A little perplexed, we assured her that the route we had suggested was the most direct and simple route. Thanking us again, she resumed her waddle toward the street.
We entered the store, found the milk and payed for it, all the while chuckling and muttering about the crazy woman who seemed convinced that she knew where to go, in spite of demanding directions from complete strangers. As we left the store, we walked toward the building exit and stopped dead in our tracks...
There, waddling between buildings was the crazy woman! She apparently had walked the route we had suggested just enough to seem like she hadn't completely disregarded our advice outright and then had gone with her gut...the wrong way. Neither of us wanting a repeat encounter, we decided that it was best for all involved that we run in the opposite direction, giggling with milk in hand...
We walked down to the shops of the Matrix (our student centre where purveyors of everything sweet and greasy ply their trade; if I ever get heart disease, I'll be blaming it on the Matrix...). We walked into the 7/11, deep in meaningless conversation about the perils of the student life, or something to that effect. As we approached the wall of glass doors that are the fridges, we discovered to our horror that there was a large empty space where the milk usually took residence.
In utter disbelief, Leia shuffled from door to door, examining the contents of each fridge, in the vein hope of finding that one carton that somehow went unnoticed by previous shoppers. Unfortunately it was not to be.
Conceding defeat, she announced that they had no milk and together we forlornly left the store.
BUT WAIT! There is also the Cafe Fino in Senate House! Perhaps they might have [ridiculously overpriced] milk!
With the hope of this revelation in our hearts, we began to trek up the hill to Senate House. We arrived through on of the side entrances and continued down the 'Disability Unit' corridor. Just as we were reaching the end of the corridor, the person who had been walking in the opposite direction to us stopped and spoke to us.
She looked Mediterranean, about 50+ years of age and wore an ochre/orange jacket. Her hair was died an impossible blond and had the fatigued look of a little too much time at the office. She started by asking us if there was an exit that took her to the traffic lights in the direction that we had come. A little confused as to what she was asking I responded with silent blinking.
Leia, a little more on the ball than I, requested clarification. It turned out that the woman worked in the block north of the university and had come in to pay something but had somehow gotten lost on campus. She had found the financial office but now needed to return to her car which she had parked near a set of traffic lights on campus.
'Oh...!' I recounted internally. I proceeded to offer her a detailed description of a route that would take her directly to the traffic lights she sought. The route was not complicated; literally just walk in one direction, in a straight line until you reach the road. Then turn right, following the road down the hill. Et viola!
Clearly uncertain, the woman thanked us and proceeded to walk the suggested route, muttering something about how despite her navigational skills she had other redeeming features. Feeling that the incident had concluded, Leia and I resumed our conversation.
A few words into the chat, we were again accosted by the lost woman. This time in a rather determined tone, she asked if there wasn't an alternative route through one of the passages to her left. A little perplexed, we assured her that the route we had suggested was the most direct and simple route. Thanking us again, she resumed her waddle toward the street.
We entered the store, found the milk and payed for it, all the while chuckling and muttering about the crazy woman who seemed convinced that she knew where to go, in spite of demanding directions from complete strangers. As we left the store, we walked toward the building exit and stopped dead in our tracks...
There, waddling between buildings was the crazy woman! She apparently had walked the route we had suggested just enough to seem like she hadn't completely disregarded our advice outright and then had gone with her gut...the wrong way. Neither of us wanting a repeat encounter, we decided that it was best for all involved that we run in the opposite direction, giggling with milk in hand...
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Pessimism and the W.C.
No, not that W.C. ! The World Cup of course!
The W.C. What can I say...Firstly, I sincerely hope that they never get to host it in this country again for as long as I live! I know, I know...I'm unpatriotic and un-South African...blah blah blah. But there are some really big reasons why I'm anti-W.C. at the moment.
Numero uno: It's been really irritating because absolutely everything now is about the world cup! Just the other day, my uncle went to the licensing department to try and get his car re-licensed and the place was closed, only to open an hour later. The reason? The staff were being taught the official world cup dance (it's called the diski dance for those who need to know; what diski has to do with soccer, I have no freaking clue...)! We have a world cup dance?! I mean really! Can't the money that was spent on hiring a Fifa-approved choreographer have been put to better use?! But thank God that now, should some misguided tourist waft into the licensing department and ask for the staff to break into dance, they will be able to deliver without hesitation! Now if only they could process their forms with that kind of efficiency...
Secondly, our country has been inundated with billions of flags. There are flags on everything! People have flags on their cars, houses, children...you name it, it's done! Actually, the children part, I have yet to come across, but I am fairly certain there are a few branded kiddies out there, unaware that they are punting their parent's favourite team. None the less, the flags are a bit much! They have even invented side-mirror socks which allow you to display the flag of your choice on your side mirrors! To give you an idea of how bad it is, several of the houses in our area now display little plastic flags all along their walls; not just of one country,mind you! They display the flags of every team that will be playing! So it's not even about supporting a team!
Once again, the futility of displaying all the flags like this doesn't seem to have dawned on most of the populous. In my opinion, foreigners are not likely to adorn their exorbitantly priced rental vehicles with the flags of their homes so the competition for best soccer supported is a little unfairly weighted toward the SA guys. They are also unlikely to have difficulty in identifying South African drivers on the roads, certainly not up here in Joburg. Just look out for the ones who are aiming at the other cars...that's us! So the need for South Africans to plaster flags over everything is completely unfounded...
Just the other day, I was on my way in to Wits on the highway when I saw, lying dirty and damaged in the freshly cut grass of the middle island, one of those horrid car flags which had obviously snapped off it's host car as they zoomed down the freeway. I felt so good to see it, which gives you some idea of just how sick I am of the stupid flags...
Thirdly, and most importantly, Fifa has demanded that for the duration of the world cup, all street vendors, hawkers and street salesmen are to be rounded up and arrested if they are caught selling their wares on the streets of the host cities! So effectively for two months, these people who make a meagre living on a good day, are to be deprived of their income! Not to mention that Fifa should be paying them compensation for this, but also, the hawkers are such a typically South African thing and by removing them they are also detracting from the full South African experience of visitors!
Other than that, we're all very excited!
Apparently some soccer fundi says that Bafana will be at an advantage because of the fact that they are used to playing with the vuvuzelas and rowdy crowds of South African Soccer. So perhaps we do stand a chance after all!
The W.C. What can I say...Firstly, I sincerely hope that they never get to host it in this country again for as long as I live! I know, I know...I'm unpatriotic and un-South African...blah blah blah. But there are some really big reasons why I'm anti-W.C. at the moment.
Numero uno: It's been really irritating because absolutely everything now is about the world cup! Just the other day, my uncle went to the licensing department to try and get his car re-licensed and the place was closed, only to open an hour later. The reason? The staff were being taught the official world cup dance (it's called the diski dance for those who need to know; what diski has to do with soccer, I have no freaking clue...)! We have a world cup dance?! I mean really! Can't the money that was spent on hiring a Fifa-approved choreographer have been put to better use?! But thank God that now, should some misguided tourist waft into the licensing department and ask for the staff to break into dance, they will be able to deliver without hesitation! Now if only they could process their forms with that kind of efficiency...
Secondly, our country has been inundated with billions of flags. There are flags on everything! People have flags on their cars, houses, children...you name it, it's done! Actually, the children part, I have yet to come across, but I am fairly certain there are a few branded kiddies out there, unaware that they are punting their parent's favourite team. None the less, the flags are a bit much! They have even invented side-mirror socks which allow you to display the flag of your choice on your side mirrors! To give you an idea of how bad it is, several of the houses in our area now display little plastic flags all along their walls; not just of one country,mind you! They display the flags of every team that will be playing! So it's not even about supporting a team!
Once again, the futility of displaying all the flags like this doesn't seem to have dawned on most of the populous. In my opinion, foreigners are not likely to adorn their exorbitantly priced rental vehicles with the flags of their homes so the competition for best soccer supported is a little unfairly weighted toward the SA guys. They are also unlikely to have difficulty in identifying South African drivers on the roads, certainly not up here in Joburg. Just look out for the ones who are aiming at the other cars...that's us! So the need for South Africans to plaster flags over everything is completely unfounded...
Just the other day, I was on my way in to Wits on the highway when I saw, lying dirty and damaged in the freshly cut grass of the middle island, one of those horrid car flags which had obviously snapped off it's host car as they zoomed down the freeway. I felt so good to see it, which gives you some idea of just how sick I am of the stupid flags...
Thirdly, and most importantly, Fifa has demanded that for the duration of the world cup, all street vendors, hawkers and street salesmen are to be rounded up and arrested if they are caught selling their wares on the streets of the host cities! So effectively for two months, these people who make a meagre living on a good day, are to be deprived of their income! Not to mention that Fifa should be paying them compensation for this, but also, the hawkers are such a typically South African thing and by removing them they are also detracting from the full South African experience of visitors!
Other than that, we're all very excited!
Apparently some soccer fundi says that Bafana will be at an advantage because of the fact that they are used to playing with the vuvuzelas and rowdy crowds of South African Soccer. So perhaps we do stand a chance after all!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Well, that was a complete waste of time!
After a good 7 hours, I've finally finished marking the first batch of my medic's practical exams. And I'm not-so-proud to announce that if a third of them pass, it'll be a miracle! It's SO depressing when you mark and realise that all those hours that you spent typing up notes, preparing lectures, giving lectures, preparing practicals and supervising practicals were all for naught. Nothing has sunken in...
It's quite amazing how little understanding of the world they have! For example, my friend Athena, who has not studied biology at all and considers her knowledge of biology limited, appears to have a better grasp of the anatomy of a rat than the average medical student who dissected the wretched creatures for a whole THREE WEEKS!!!
What also leaves me completely speechless is there inability to perform relatively simplistic and straight-forward tasks, like read the instructions on their exam paper. The number of students that completely ignore the instructions and write what they feel the question should be asking is scary to say the least.
Prime example: One of the questions asked them to plot a line graph of a set of mass-specific metabolic rates (basically how much energy used for every gram of body mass in a given time) against their corresponding mass values. What do I get?
A million graphs of mass-specific metabolic rate plotted against species, or mass against species!!! Every possible combination except the one they were ASKED for!!!
(In case you were wondering, I'm a little frustrated and despairing at the moment. I think I'll go home and it'll all be okay in the morning...)
It's quite amazing how little understanding of the world they have! For example, my friend Athena, who has not studied biology at all and considers her knowledge of biology limited, appears to have a better grasp of the anatomy of a rat than the average medical student who dissected the wretched creatures for a whole THREE WEEKS!!!
What also leaves me completely speechless is there inability to perform relatively simplistic and straight-forward tasks, like read the instructions on their exam paper. The number of students that completely ignore the instructions and write what they feel the question should be asking is scary to say the least.
Prime example: One of the questions asked them to plot a line graph of a set of mass-specific metabolic rates (basically how much energy used for every gram of body mass in a given time) against their corresponding mass values. What do I get?
A million graphs of mass-specific metabolic rate plotted against species, or mass against species!!! Every possible combination except the one they were ASKED for!!!
(In case you were wondering, I'm a little frustrated and despairing at the moment. I think I'll go home and it'll all be okay in the morning...)
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I'm so screwed...
Over the last few months I have had to do a great deal of teaching. Specifically, I've been teaching the medic students on the topic of metabolism and digestion. The lecturing went as well as could be expected given the circumstances (having all your work on your laptop stolen a week prior to you starting your lecturing does tend to hamper your teaching somewhat...), and luckily for me, the section has been completed, freeing me from the responsibility of shaping young (albeit empty) minds.
The first of my problems I noticed on Tuesday, when the medics class wrote a test. I started marking the test and was horrified! They have absolutely NO CLUE what is going on in my section! My first instinct was to think, 'Oh no! I'm such a bad teacher!' but I then thought to myself, 'Wait, this is university! They are all adults! If they have a problem they can track me down for help or look it up in a text book! It's not like I'm completely unapproachable (as far as I know...maybe I smell faintly of eggs...?) and I'm on campus ALL THE TIME!!'
I also received confirmation, via Facebook, from one of my students that I had indeed taught them well and that, in his opinion, it is entirely their own fault if they are doing badly in the test. AMEN!!!
As an aside, it's a little weird being contacted, and friended, by one of your students on Facebook. Luckily for me, I'm not closer to 50 yrs old, which would have made the whole thing very awkward...
The other thing that is worrying me is that I have to now supervise the practical that is associated with my section of work. Normally this wouldn't phase me in the least, but the problem is that this practical requires of me that I explain how to do a chemistry procedure that I have not done in at least the last 7 years!! So, understandably, I'm a little freaked out...
I'm going to scan through the memo and hopefully find something that I can use to fool people into believing that I know what I'm talking about...when I don't. Otherwise, there's always google...
The first of my problems I noticed on Tuesday, when the medics class wrote a test. I started marking the test and was horrified! They have absolutely NO CLUE what is going on in my section! My first instinct was to think, 'Oh no! I'm such a bad teacher!' but I then thought to myself, 'Wait, this is university! They are all adults! If they have a problem they can track me down for help or look it up in a text book! It's not like I'm completely unapproachable (as far as I know...maybe I smell faintly of eggs...?) and I'm on campus ALL THE TIME!!'
I also received confirmation, via Facebook, from one of my students that I had indeed taught them well and that, in his opinion, it is entirely their own fault if they are doing badly in the test. AMEN!!!
As an aside, it's a little weird being contacted, and friended, by one of your students on Facebook. Luckily for me, I'm not closer to 50 yrs old, which would have made the whole thing very awkward...
The other thing that is worrying me is that I have to now supervise the practical that is associated with my section of work. Normally this wouldn't phase me in the least, but the problem is that this practical requires of me that I explain how to do a chemistry procedure that I have not done in at least the last 7 years!! So, understandably, I'm a little freaked out...
I'm going to scan through the memo and hopefully find something that I can use to fool people into believing that I know what I'm talking about...when I don't. Otherwise, there's always google...
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Am I deep enough for Emo, or shallow enough for Scene...?
http://littleblackcherry.bttradespace.com/ViewPost.aspx?ID=28
The above, much like Eebee's post, make me wonder about the fate of human kind.
Emo is just about the only social movement which makes me REALLY annoyed. While I cannot claim to be a fan of rap music and gang culture, Emo trumps it, hands down. There's just so much about it that is really irritating! Where do I begin?!
I'll start at the top and work my way down.
I've always wished that I had straighter hair. It would make it manageable. But I would never go through all the effort that emos (is that even a real word...?) go through to make my hair look straw-like and lifeless. Something else that many people fail to realise is that straight hair works for some people and just doesn't for others! I was at a party recently where a friend of a friend announced that he had spent the 2 hours prior to the party straightening his hair (not that we could really tell...it was still all curly). Now, I am fairly certain that most normal males live by the principal of 'if you have clothes on and the mop is vaguely under control, you are now socially acceptable'. So the fact that the emo movement has resulted in a borderline-hysterical buy-up if hair straighteners by men, worries me...
The other element of the emo hair that I find...amusing, to tell the truth, is the obsession with the long fringes (bangs) which must be drawn down over the face. I love walking through campus and seeing an emo kid walking down a corridor, face entirely obscured by their hair. Occasionally, the hair will rise briefly as they blow furiously at if from underneath in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the outside world. While this (somehow) appears not to be done out of annoyance, it appears more to function by preventing collisions with other people and stationary objects.
Helen described the typical emo hairstyle very well: an upside-down mullet.
Next is the make-up. This is about one of the only things that I think works from the emo movement. Eyeliner makes everyone look so much more dramatic and in many cases can really accentuate beautiful eyes! Again, it really works on some people, and not so much on others. In my opinion, the best are those who try to keep is as simple as possible. The alternative is nothing short of ridiculous...
I personally know of people who are in that exact scenario (albeit, not in America...), provided with everything that they could ask for and resorting to self-injury because it is the done thing as an emo. In truth, this element of the movement has left me with a great deal of pity for emos. Their existance is so fragile and sad that one cannot help but pity them. Another part of me wants to slap across the face really hard and shout 'Snap out of it you stupid *&%#$! Your life doesn't suck!'
Now for the twist in the tale: In order to show that I harbour no ill-feelings toward emoism, and to avoid being one of those people who everone says "...don't knock it 'til you try it" to I, tomorrow, shall become emo. Helen has agreed to help me out and we shall take photos and I shall post them.
The above, much like Eebee's post, make me wonder about the fate of human kind.
Emo is just about the only social movement which makes me REALLY annoyed. While I cannot claim to be a fan of rap music and gang culture, Emo trumps it, hands down. There's just so much about it that is really irritating! Where do I begin?!
I'll start at the top and work my way down.
I've always wished that I had straighter hair. It would make it manageable. But I would never go through all the effort that emos (is that even a real word...?) go through to make my hair look straw-like and lifeless. Something else that many people fail to realise is that straight hair works for some people and just doesn't for others! I was at a party recently where a friend of a friend announced that he had spent the 2 hours prior to the party straightening his hair (not that we could really tell...it was still all curly). Now, I am fairly certain that most normal males live by the principal of 'if you have clothes on and the mop is vaguely under control, you are now socially acceptable'. So the fact that the emo movement has resulted in a borderline-hysterical buy-up if hair straighteners by men, worries me...
The other element of the emo hair that I find...amusing, to tell the truth, is the obsession with the long fringes (bangs) which must be drawn down over the face. I love walking through campus and seeing an emo kid walking down a corridor, face entirely obscured by their hair. Occasionally, the hair will rise briefly as they blow furiously at if from underneath in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the outside world. While this (somehow) appears not to be done out of annoyance, it appears more to function by preventing collisions with other people and stationary objects.
Helen described the typical emo hairstyle very well: an upside-down mullet.
Next is the make-up. This is about one of the only things that I think works from the emo movement. Eyeliner makes everyone look so much more dramatic and in many cases can really accentuate beautiful eyes! Again, it really works on some people, and not so much on others. In my opinion, the best are those who try to keep is as simple as possible. The alternative is nothing short of ridiculous...
Then the clothing. There is a reason why girls jeans are made for girls. I saw a Fall Out Boy music video last night in which Pete Wentz was wearing a pair of bright red skinny jeans. The boy looked like the depressed elf that escaped Santa's workshop! It was ridiculous! Having said that, other elements of the emo gettup I like. I'm a fan of black, so that's one plus to their image.
I think the element of emo-ism that annoys me the most is the pseudo-psychology of it. It is a movement that arose from the ashes of the American dream in white suburbia where teens were growing up, wanting for nothing, and this really pissed them off. They had nothing to be angry about and thus they became angry at their lack of anything to direct their rage at. From there it was a hop, skip and jump to being broody, withdrawn and in many cases resorting to self-mutilation and suicide. In short the social aspects of emoism border on pathological.
I personally know of people who are in that exact scenario (albeit, not in America...), provided with everything that they could ask for and resorting to self-injury because it is the done thing as an emo. In truth, this element of the movement has left me with a great deal of pity for emos. Their existance is so fragile and sad that one cannot help but pity them. Another part of me wants to slap across the face really hard and shout 'Snap out of it you stupid *&%#$! Your life doesn't suck!'
Now for the twist in the tale: In order to show that I harbour no ill-feelings toward emoism, and to avoid being one of those people who everone says "...don't knock it 'til you try it" to I, tomorrow, shall become emo. Helen has agreed to help me out and we shall take photos and I shall post them.
Friday, June 19, 2009
How to save a species on the brink...
I've just finished having a rather in-depth discussion with my supervisor about the film '11th Hour'. I've not seen it as the idea of sitting through another 'Inconvenient Truth' (Al Gore couldn't even put the ocean currents around Africa flowing in the right direction!!!), this time headed by a pretty-boy multi-millionaire from Hollywood, put me off it somewhat. However, from what my supervisor just told me, I may even go get it to watch this very night!
But this is not the point of this story. What really came out of our discussion, and something that has been plaguing me for some time is the global lack of change, in spite of all the warning signs that we are at the end of our tether. National Geographic published an article on the global food crisis this month in which they outlined the dilemma: most of the planet has been living off food reserves accumulated over the last odd 50 years or so and now the vast majority are either near or completely depleted.
Even much closer to home, the effects of climate change are apparent. Johannesburg had snow last year for the first time in about 45 years. This year, our winter has been milder and also considerably wetter than ever before. While I realise that this is purely anecdotal, it still makes me wonder about how close we are to breaking point.
The problem, as I see it, is a global fixation on capital gain. Saving the species from obliteration hasn't happened because there's no money in it. This is taken to the extreme when one considers that many 'green' techniques that can be employed by people to curb the oncoming behemoth are drastically simple and actually save money.
A prime example is garbage. In many EU countries at the moment, refuse is expected to be separated by households into plastics, metals, paper, biodegradable and other. They have dedicated bins and collection days. Why then do we not have such a system in South Africa? Well, you will say, because we don't have the infra-structure in this country for it. Or alternatively, that'd require employing more people and the government won't pay for that.
While I certainly agree with the latter point, the first point is a bunch of nonsense. The infra-structure exists already but is not adequately utilized! For example, many people in the greater Johannesburg area already go sifting through peoples rubbish to collect the various recyclable components. They then take these off to companies who pay them to do it. Now, what could be easier than separating out the rubbish ahead of time for these people. Not only do you allow them to potentially collect more from other people by freeing up that time they would have spent sifting through your trash, but you are also providing them with a source of income! Eco-friendly meets social up-liftment!
The other problem facing greener life changes is people's lack of willingness to change. Strategies such as the above require effort that people are just not prepared to expend. If you are one of these, then here's an alternative for you. Why not separate at least you biodegradable material from you other rubbish and start a compost heap?
What could possibly require less effort than throwing all your bio-rubbish into a large pile and ignoring it?!
As for the point about the government not forking out the money for green programs...We have some of the most progressive environmental laws in the world in South Africa. Our water act was one of the first to stipulate that environmental functioning requires a certain amount of water and that any excess over and above that was free for human use. So why is the government not helping out more? Because we, the people that live on their land, don't hold them to it! If more pressure was put on government to fund green initiatives and if more people made use of green programs such as recycling programs or car-pooling to reduce emissions and the like, there would be more scope for government to engage with green initiatives.
In short, we, as individuals need to change now as we can't wait for the government fat-cats to decide to do things. There are many different ways in which we could change our lifestyles to prevent the upcoming monster. I, myself, recycle, have a compost heap and am a vegetarian. My house has solar-heated water and up until recently due to work-related changes in my timetable, used to ride public transport which reduces carbon emissions per head. What are you doing? It's up to you and I to save humanity!
Friday, May 29, 2009
A fantastic weekend!
As I mentioned in my previous post, I have a great deal of marking to do...
Sodwana Bay - Diving!
Suikerboschfontein - the most amazing hike!
Thus, I have no life whatsoever and will spend my ENTIRE weekend, wading through the drivel that students hand in and expect to be praised for. I can't wait!
In addition, I have to somehow find time to work on some music, sort out my accommodation in Paris for August (YAY!!!) and my degree (note that it is last on the 'To Do' list...). I have to confess that there are a million thing I'd much rather be doing this weekend! Wouldn't you rather be here this weekend:
Sodwana Bay - Diving!Or here:
A frozen lake I visited when in Germany - Scooting around on the ice!
A frozen lake I visited when in Germany - Scooting around on the ice!Or, perhaps, here:
Suikerboschfontein - the most amazing hike!Thursday, May 28, 2009
I'm enjoying this WAY too much!
For those of you who have never had the fortune (whether good or bad, depends on your outlook) to teach students at any stage, one of the features of the job which can be rather painful is marking. One's responses to students work can range from blinding rage to hysterical laughter. It is the latter that has brought me to write this post.
Over the last two months, I took on my first lecturing job ever. It's been great! I've really enjoyed it immensely! It's fantastic to be able to teach people about something that they've never done or heard of before, and to see them getting excited about what you tell them makes a world of difference!
However, it is when the marking starts that you begin to wonder, 'Are they really this stupid, or am I just a really bad lecturer...?'. Within the last week, I've had to invigilate two exams and I am now in the course of marking both lots. And, because of all the stuff I've read in their exams, I, along with a couple of friends, have decided to start a sister-blog where I shall publish the best of the stupid stuff students write. It is...
Scary things students *think* they know...
I've been told I enjoy the marking way too much and must learn to appreciate the mundane nature of the job...
Over the last two months, I took on my first lecturing job ever. It's been great! I've really enjoyed it immensely! It's fantastic to be able to teach people about something that they've never done or heard of before, and to see them getting excited about what you tell them makes a world of difference!
However, it is when the marking starts that you begin to wonder, 'Are they really this stupid, or am I just a really bad lecturer...?'. Within the last week, I've had to invigilate two exams and I am now in the course of marking both lots. And, because of all the stuff I've read in their exams, I, along with a couple of friends, have decided to start a sister-blog where I shall publish the best of the stupid stuff students write. It is...
Scary things students *think* they know...
I've been told I enjoy the marking way too much and must learn to appreciate the mundane nature of the job...
Monday, May 25, 2009
Well, that's 10 hours you'll never get back...
It's been one of those days. The kind where you end up doing loads of admin but feel that you have achieved absolutely nothing all day. I've been doing statistics for undergraduate students all day, which has been a pain. Mostly because they have no idea what's going on but insist on asking about the most arbitrary points in the hope that I will somehow think that they have a clue.
Now, ask anyone, my stats knowledge is not amazing, but I do know a few things. That's why I got so ticked off with one pair of sibling students that came, with the rest of their group, to sort out their stats. In all fairness, the one sibling had some common sense, so my frustration wasn't directed at them both, only the dumb one...
She kept trying to come up with 'practical' (read: lazy-ass) solutions to her stats in an effort to have to do less work. She also kept asking really stupid questions like, 'When you say we should make a bar graph with the averages for each variable plotted according to the times they were sampled, what do you mean?', to which I would answer with, 'Well, basically plot a bar graph with the averages for each variable plotted according to the times they were sampled...'
And, to add to the unbelievably annoying nature of the individual, she has a lip-ring. Now, I personally am not against the idea of lip piercings (Quite the opposite! I wanted to get one for myself!), and the design of her ring is simple and silver, but somehow, it just makes this individual SO much mor obnoxious and annoying! It's amazing!
So, having done the stats and a little admin, I'm sitting at my desk, hoping that somehow, just for today, time will speed up and the end of the day will suddenly be upon me, forcing me home...
Off to youtube then to be unproductive!
Now, ask anyone, my stats knowledge is not amazing, but I do know a few things. That's why I got so ticked off with one pair of sibling students that came, with the rest of their group, to sort out their stats. In all fairness, the one sibling had some common sense, so my frustration wasn't directed at them both, only the dumb one...
She kept trying to come up with 'practical' (read: lazy-ass) solutions to her stats in an effort to have to do less work. She also kept asking really stupid questions like, 'When you say we should make a bar graph with the averages for each variable plotted according to the times they were sampled, what do you mean?', to which I would answer with, 'Well, basically plot a bar graph with the averages for each variable plotted according to the times they were sampled...'
And, to add to the unbelievably annoying nature of the individual, she has a lip-ring. Now, I personally am not against the idea of lip piercings (Quite the opposite! I wanted to get one for myself!), and the design of her ring is simple and silver, but somehow, it just makes this individual SO much mor obnoxious and annoying! It's amazing!
So, having done the stats and a little admin, I'm sitting at my desk, hoping that somehow, just for today, time will speed up and the end of the day will suddenly be upon me, forcing me home...
Off to youtube then to be unproductive!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
On music
Ironically, without intending to do so I have chosen the same topic for today's post as Eebee did for his. Actually, it's not the same exactly, but along similar lines. For me it was all brought about by my arriving at my lab to discover that our cleaning lady, Sarah, was working away at polishing our countertops, with her cell-phone blaring gospel music in that tiny-distorted cell-phone kinda way. While I certainly have nothing against gospel music, I was a little taken aback at the fact that she felt that it was okay to play music in my office while I was trying to work. But I digress...
In addition to the above musical incident, I was listening to the latest Dido album today for the first time. It's really not bad! My friend David had listened to it and warned me that the vast majority of the album was rubbish but there were one or two tracks that were worthwhile. While I certainly think that there are no tracks on the album (so far...) that are nearly as catchy as some of her previous stuff, it's really not as bad as he made it out to be!
After reading Eebee's post about his top 5 most annoying music 'artists', I feel I have to put my ten cents worth in and rant a little. I have to agree that Nickleback has to be one of the most annoying bands on the planet! They have produced a grand total of about 2 original songs, figured 'Hey! This works!' and decided to clone them for the following 6 ALBUMS!!!
Now, no offense to fans, but they also exploit something in every teenage girl which drives me nuts! They write their songs as these soppy lyrics, masquerading as a rock band. Someone, please have a child by them so that they can go the way of all musicians who have children; an subsequent album with songs riddled with soppy titles like, 'My little angel', following which their career takes a nose dive, never to recover. The world would be a better place! I promise!
Then, Coldplay. I think that both Nickleback and Coldplay suffer from the same problem. Neither are able to inject a smidgen of originality into their music! But I shan't repeat the above rant for them too...
Next on my hate-list is Jay-Z. This man is about as musical as a jack-hammer. While I certainly consider most rappers with disdain due to the fact that what they do is NOT music, his tracks in particular irritate me because of their shallowness and lack of variability. While the backtracks for many of them are really quite good, and in some rare cases, generate that instant tapping foot thing that happens with a good beat, the fact that he 'sings' about how awesome he is and how much money he has, makes me sick. How insecure can you be as a person to feel confident about 'singing' your own praises?!
Then there is the beloved Akon. While I take pride in the fact that he is a fellow African and thus feel a certain kinship with the man, and apart from his various inappropriate stage cavortings with underage children, I would compare his voice to that of a toddler having a temper-tantrum. What possessed music executives to sign him on, is beyond me. What also amazes me is how many people actually like his music! It's amazing!
And thus, I shall end my rant. Sorry to any of you readers who are fans. These are just my opinions and I am a firm believer that music taste is an individual matter and shouldn't be a measure of a persons character.
In addition to the above musical incident, I was listening to the latest Dido album today for the first time. It's really not bad! My friend David had listened to it and warned me that the vast majority of the album was rubbish but there were one or two tracks that were worthwhile. While I certainly think that there are no tracks on the album (so far...) that are nearly as catchy as some of her previous stuff, it's really not as bad as he made it out to be!
After reading Eebee's post about his top 5 most annoying music 'artists', I feel I have to put my ten cents worth in and rant a little. I have to agree that Nickleback has to be one of the most annoying bands on the planet! They have produced a grand total of about 2 original songs, figured 'Hey! This works!' and decided to clone them for the following 6 ALBUMS!!!
Now, no offense to fans, but they also exploit something in every teenage girl which drives me nuts! They write their songs as these soppy lyrics, masquerading as a rock band. Someone, please have a child by them so that they can go the way of all musicians who have children; an subsequent album with songs riddled with soppy titles like, 'My little angel', following which their career takes a nose dive, never to recover. The world would be a better place! I promise!
Then, Coldplay. I think that both Nickleback and Coldplay suffer from the same problem. Neither are able to inject a smidgen of originality into their music! But I shan't repeat the above rant for them too...
Next on my hate-list is Jay-Z. This man is about as musical as a jack-hammer. While I certainly consider most rappers with disdain due to the fact that what they do is NOT music, his tracks in particular irritate me because of their shallowness and lack of variability. While the backtracks for many of them are really quite good, and in some rare cases, generate that instant tapping foot thing that happens with a good beat, the fact that he 'sings' about how awesome he is and how much money he has, makes me sick. How insecure can you be as a person to feel confident about 'singing' your own praises?!
Then there is the beloved Akon. While I take pride in the fact that he is a fellow African and thus feel a certain kinship with the man, and apart from his various inappropriate stage cavortings with underage children, I would compare his voice to that of a toddler having a temper-tantrum. What possessed music executives to sign him on, is beyond me. What also amazes me is how many people actually like his music! It's amazing!
And thus, I shall end my rant. Sorry to any of you readers who are fans. These are just my opinions and I am a firm believer that music taste is an individual matter and shouldn't be a measure of a persons character.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Party! I wish not...
So, seeing as every other person I know that has a blog has taken to writing again, I feel compelled to do the same. Gotta keep up with the Jones's and all that...
I recently went to a party to celebrate a 25th wedding anniversary. In this day and age, simply having a 25th wedding anniversary is quite a feat and cause for great celebration. However, in this particular case, I just wish that I didn't have to celebrate it with the couple in question. The problem is that they are a family who I have known for some time and in that time I have grown to like them less and less. They are crass, crude, entirely self-centered and juvenile, all of which I cannot stomach. I realise that I am a snob, but what can I do?
So, on Sunday evening, I was dragged, reluctantly, along with my family to this party. Due to the fact that my one sister is currently in the UK, our party of party-goers consisted of my parents, my sister and I. The party was set to start at 5 (what kind of dinner party starts at 5 in the afternoon?!) and the dress code, according to the invitation anyway, was 'smart'. This in itself caused great consternation as none of us could figure out where on the continuum between naked and meeting the Queen of England 'smart' lay, but we figured it sat around the region of smart-casual and dressed accordingly.
Upon our arrival, we realised that smart actually meant, dress as if you are going clubbing in a really seedy area, or alternatively, as if you were going to a house party.
Starting the evening realising that you are severely over-dressed didn't help to improve my outlook on the festivities. The immediate arrival of a waiter with sparkling wine improved my assessment of the situation and after discovering the snack table, I began to think that perhaps things really weren't going to be all that bad. I was gravely mistaken...
To cut a very long, and painful, story short, things tobogganed downhill from this point on. The sparkling wine ran out within about the first 30 minutes, only to be replaced by a truly vile, dry white wine which put a proverbial cork in my sister's and my plans to get tipsy in an effort to make the experience bearable. The DJ for the evening turned out to be tragically overconfident with regard to the ability to woo the audience with his wit. In addition to this, his ability to cram just about every politically incorrect concept into everything he said, as well as a great number of expletives as punctuation didn't exactly warm my sister or I to him. There are hip movements displayed by a 50-something old man on the dancefloor I witnessed that are now permanently burned into my mind which, really, I could have done without. Not knowing a single person there, apart from the celebrated couple and their family didn't help much, but having a camera eased the boredom slightly.
Luckily, we had been placed at a table with a family that had two small children, thus providing the means for our escape. We kept a close eye on the state of fatigue of the children and with the emergence of the first yawn, we proclaimed that we too had best be on our way.
Much to my relief, my mother has decided that this was to be the final event of the family in question that we would ever attend. I've waited about 5 long years to hear that...
Monday, July 7, 2008
Car-wrecker
Today I had my first-ever motor vehicle accident. Granted, I've had one other collision but it was with my dads parked car and my mother should not have let me reverse her car when I was 11 years old...
Back to the story at hand. I cannot describe to anyone just how crap the experience was. I should have known that my day was going to be really poo when I was awoken by my sister, 45 min after I was supposed to get up because I'd set my alarm for 6:15 PM instead of 6:15 AM. It set the tone for the day and after a VERY hastey breakfast (an apple while running around...), we departed on our ill-fated trip to university.
I remember little bits of this morning, but accidents have an amazing property, in that they wipe vast chunks out of your day. We left the house and had to stop off shortly after leaving to clean the ice off the windshield. It was a really cold morning today and so we had to create a wad of tissues to wipe with. A little further on our way I remember hearing the news being read on the radio and thinking to myself, 'Oh good. The news is on. That means we can't be too late.'
Part of our route to university takes us along a long straight road called, Cumberland St. It has many perpendicular ajoining roads along it, but usually only on the one side. It was along this road that it happened.
Suddenly my sister was yelling and the car infront of me was really close. I braked and started to swerve to try and miss it. It was too late. I hit the back of the BMW in front of me and it went up one of the ajoining roads. It seemed to gain speed as it went uphill and, ramping the pavement, took out a STOP sign, eventually coming to rest against a tree.
At this point I remember thinking, 'I'd better move my car so that it's not blocking the intersection.' which I did. I stopped the car just off the intersection and got out. I ran around my car to the other side where I was greeted in language that I shall not repeat here, by an irrate greek man. After much swearing I went to my car to collect something to write on to get his details, while doing so, I phoned home to let them know.
Luckily for me, my uncle Vic was at home and he guided me through all the details I needed and what to do. Within minutes a swarm of tow-truck drivers had arrived and began circling the carcass of the BMW. My car still looked like it had some life in it and so, was left alone for the most part.
Nobody was seriously injured nor was anyone killed. It was just not fun at all. I must point out the irony in the situation though. Just the other day I was chatting to a friend and I happened to mention that my other sister was leaving for the UK (She left on Thursday last week). I also mentioned that it was a bad thing for her siblings she left behind because the last time that she left, we both got into trouble (I arrived home drunk and so did my sister, one week later. The parents were most unimpressed...) and so now that she was leaving again, we were bound to get into trouble again. And, like clockwork...we did. Luckily that should be the last time that she leaves, so life should be smooth sailing from now on...
Back to the story at hand. I cannot describe to anyone just how crap the experience was. I should have known that my day was going to be really poo when I was awoken by my sister, 45 min after I was supposed to get up because I'd set my alarm for 6:15 PM instead of 6:15 AM. It set the tone for the day and after a VERY hastey breakfast (an apple while running around...), we departed on our ill-fated trip to university.
I remember little bits of this morning, but accidents have an amazing property, in that they wipe vast chunks out of your day. We left the house and had to stop off shortly after leaving to clean the ice off the windshield. It was a really cold morning today and so we had to create a wad of tissues to wipe with. A little further on our way I remember hearing the news being read on the radio and thinking to myself, 'Oh good. The news is on. That means we can't be too late.'
Part of our route to university takes us along a long straight road called, Cumberland St. It has many perpendicular ajoining roads along it, but usually only on the one side. It was along this road that it happened.
Suddenly my sister was yelling and the car infront of me was really close. I braked and started to swerve to try and miss it. It was too late. I hit the back of the BMW in front of me and it went up one of the ajoining roads. It seemed to gain speed as it went uphill and, ramping the pavement, took out a STOP sign, eventually coming to rest against a tree.
At this point I remember thinking, 'I'd better move my car so that it's not blocking the intersection.' which I did. I stopped the car just off the intersection and got out. I ran around my car to the other side where I was greeted in language that I shall not repeat here, by an irrate greek man. After much swearing I went to my car to collect something to write on to get his details, while doing so, I phoned home to let them know.
Luckily for me, my uncle Vic was at home and he guided me through all the details I needed and what to do. Within minutes a swarm of tow-truck drivers had arrived and began circling the carcass of the BMW. My car still looked like it had some life in it and so, was left alone for the most part.
Nobody was seriously injured nor was anyone killed. It was just not fun at all. I must point out the irony in the situation though. Just the other day I was chatting to a friend and I happened to mention that my other sister was leaving for the UK (She left on Thursday last week). I also mentioned that it was a bad thing for her siblings she left behind because the last time that she left, we both got into trouble (I arrived home drunk and so did my sister, one week later. The parents were most unimpressed...) and so now that she was leaving again, we were bound to get into trouble again. And, like clockwork...we did. Luckily that should be the last time that she leaves, so life should be smooth sailing from now on...
Sunday, June 15, 2008
MIA...and screwed
Howdy blog folk!
I've not blogged in some time now. It's been a little frustrating because I've really wanted to but of late my internet connection has been playing up. To be fair, it really was more the fault of my laptop, more than the internet connection...(Note to self: NEVER buy a celeron based computer ever again unless it is to be used in a capacity that is intended to hinder one's life...)
So, not really much to report. I've had a bit of a frustrating last few days. For the chimps that I work with, I am building a type of feeding device. I've mentioned them before and at the moment I'm having a whole lot built to put into the chimp enclosure at the zoo as part of my experiment. Now, part of this device requires that I place a number of durable balls into the device. The idea is that they obstruct the chimps and make it a little more time consuming to get the food that will be in the device.
Last year I built a few of these devices and I managed to find (what I figured was) as perfect a ball as I was going to find to put into the devices. The really cool thing about the balls, other than the fact that they were the right size and all, was that they were ridiculously cheap and availible freely from China Town. So I got the balls I needed for the devices for last year.
So this year, I return to the same stores in China Town (actually, it's called Asia City, to be precise) to find more balls for the new batch of devices I'm having built. To my horror, none of the stores stocked them anymore! Not only that, but they all seemed to think that I was insane and that there had never been such an item invented my a human mind, never mind being sold in their stores! So I freaked out a bit and spent much of time for the last few days trying in futile despiration to find the damn things!
So if anyone knows where I can buy 'Monster balls' at a relatively cheap cost, PLEASE contact me asap!!!! They look a little like tennis balls with a thyroid problem. They're just a bit smaller than a soccer ball but larger than a tennis ball, but still have the shape and pattern of a tennis ball.
Help!!!
PS. If you have not yet seen it, go see The Happening. It's tre cool!
I've not blogged in some time now. It's been a little frustrating because I've really wanted to but of late my internet connection has been playing up. To be fair, it really was more the fault of my laptop, more than the internet connection...(Note to self: NEVER buy a celeron based computer ever again unless it is to be used in a capacity that is intended to hinder one's life...)
So, not really much to report. I've had a bit of a frustrating last few days. For the chimps that I work with, I am building a type of feeding device. I've mentioned them before and at the moment I'm having a whole lot built to put into the chimp enclosure at the zoo as part of my experiment. Now, part of this device requires that I place a number of durable balls into the device. The idea is that they obstruct the chimps and make it a little more time consuming to get the food that will be in the device.
Last year I built a few of these devices and I managed to find (what I figured was) as perfect a ball as I was going to find to put into the devices. The really cool thing about the balls, other than the fact that they were the right size and all, was that they were ridiculously cheap and availible freely from China Town. So I got the balls I needed for the devices for last year.
So this year, I return to the same stores in China Town (actually, it's called Asia City, to be precise) to find more balls for the new batch of devices I'm having built. To my horror, none of the stores stocked them anymore! Not only that, but they all seemed to think that I was insane and that there had never been such an item invented my a human mind, never mind being sold in their stores! So I freaked out a bit and spent much of time for the last few days trying in futile despiration to find the damn things!
So if anyone knows where I can buy 'Monster balls' at a relatively cheap cost, PLEASE contact me asap!!!! They look a little like tennis balls with a thyroid problem. They're just a bit smaller than a soccer ball but larger than a tennis ball, but still have the shape and pattern of a tennis ball.
Help!!!
PS. If you have not yet seen it, go see The Happening. It's tre cool!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Please Flush Urinal After Use!
Today, I went to one of the bathrooms in the building in which I work. As I walked into the room, I realised that something was different. Something had changed. My eager bladder overcame any thought processes and I moved quickly, to the urinals. It was then that I noticed what had changed. There was a large sign above the urinals that said, ‘Please Flush Urinal After Use!’
My initial reaction was to find this a little amusing. I do have a little toilet humour (pun intentional) in my head, so this wasn’t all that odd. But soon thereafter, I began to think to myself that it was not so funny that that sort of thing was necessary. I mean, it should come as second nature that one flushes once one has emptied! This sort of thing would never be needed in a woman’s loo!
This then got me thinking. Guys are not the most skilled, not considerate bathroom users. We have been blessed in so many ways! We can stand and pee at the same time! We don’t have to go through childbirth (Adam must have done something right, at the beginning, to get that one!), nor do we have to carry our developing offspring! It’s fantastic! We don’t have to worry about having periods! It’s fantastic! And yet, we often take it all for granted.
The sign shows just how little we appreciate it. I mean, flushing is SO simple and yet there are people out there that don’t! Horrors! Our inability to be courteous in the bathroom extends to many other areas. For example, guys, if you have really bad aim, please learn to aim! Practise if the years leading up to your current age have not been practice enough! If all else fails, and you are still battling to hit the target, please don’t leave evidence of your willy’s triumph over hygiene all over the toilet seat! Clean it up for crap’s sake!
At this point I imagine all female readers of this blog are sitting thinking smugly to themselves, ‘Finally! I guy who sees our side of the story!’ Women are not blameless in this regard! I’ve learned many a thing about the internal workings of the female body from the contents of a toilet bowl…considerably more than I’d like to know, let me tell you! And women, it’s really not all that hard, just lift the toilet seat UP when it’s down, instead of bitching about it!
In short, let’s all make an effort to make the bathroom experience a pleasant one! Happy bathroom’ing people!
My initial reaction was to find this a little amusing. I do have a little toilet humour (pun intentional) in my head, so this wasn’t all that odd. But soon thereafter, I began to think to myself that it was not so funny that that sort of thing was necessary. I mean, it should come as second nature that one flushes once one has emptied! This sort of thing would never be needed in a woman’s loo!
This then got me thinking. Guys are not the most skilled, not considerate bathroom users. We have been blessed in so many ways! We can stand and pee at the same time! We don’t have to go through childbirth (Adam must have done something right, at the beginning, to get that one!), nor do we have to carry our developing offspring! It’s fantastic! We don’t have to worry about having periods! It’s fantastic! And yet, we often take it all for granted.
The sign shows just how little we appreciate it. I mean, flushing is SO simple and yet there are people out there that don’t! Horrors! Our inability to be courteous in the bathroom extends to many other areas. For example, guys, if you have really bad aim, please learn to aim! Practise if the years leading up to your current age have not been practice enough! If all else fails, and you are still battling to hit the target, please don’t leave evidence of your willy’s triumph over hygiene all over the toilet seat! Clean it up for crap’s sake!
At this point I imagine all female readers of this blog are sitting thinking smugly to themselves, ‘Finally! I guy who sees our side of the story!’ Women are not blameless in this regard! I’ve learned many a thing about the internal workings of the female body from the contents of a toilet bowl…considerably more than I’d like to know, let me tell you! And women, it’s really not all that hard, just lift the toilet seat UP when it’s down, instead of bitching about it!
In short, let’s all make an effort to make the bathroom experience a pleasant one! Happy bathroom’ing people!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
My big fight with the cops
Today, while heading off to the zoo, I was pulled over by a pair of Metropolitan Police officers for speeding. They were trapping on Broadway, near Eastgate, between Queen St and Allum Rd. As I neared them, the male of the pair stood out in the road and waved me down with a clipboard. I began to curse under my breath as I was not (is one ever?) in the mood for a traffic fine and I hadn't been paying attention to the speed I was doing so I was fairly certain that they may have really got me.
I pulled over to the side of the road and the female of the pair walked over to my car. I instinctivly removed my drivers license to show her when she arrived and braced myself for the upcoming conversation. I always feel so nervous when I'm being checked by cops, even when I have done nothing wrong and they are just checking peoples licenses and stuff. So being pulled over for an actual offense makes me feel about the size of a pea.
Our conversation went something like this:
Cop: Good day sir. Do you realise you were doing 79 in a 60 zone?
Me: What? Really?
Cop: Would you like to see the picture?
Me: No, it's fine. But, this isn't a 60 zone.
Cop: Yes it is. There is a sign down there [Points ahead of me down the road] saying that the speed limit is 60km an hour.
Me: But I'm not past that sign.
Cop: Yes, but this is a 60 zone.
Me: No it's not! If I remember correctly from my learners liscense test, the speed limit only changes when one passes a sign indicating that it has changed. The last sign that I saw was a sign saying 80km/h and I've still not passed the 60km/h sign, so this is still an 80 zone!
Cop: If you remember from your test, they said that any built up area is a 60 zone. This is a built up area.
Me (Getting a little annoyed now): No it's not! Even if it were, there would need to be a sign indicating that there is a change in the speed limit!
Cop: Well this is a built up area so the limit is 60.
Me: No it's NOT! There are no signs saying so, so how you expect me to magically sniff that the speed limit has changed is beyond me!
Cop (In a very matter-of-fact kind of voice): You don't have to sniff anything. It's a 60 zone.
Me (half stiffling giggles at the cop saying that sniffing wasn't necessary): That's rubbish!
Cop (Now oozing with attitude): Oh! So now you are saying that what we do is rubbish?!
Me (Very calmly): No, I think that what you do is great! It's brilliant that people like you do this job! I'm mearly stating that I don't think that what you are doing here is fair...and I don't believe that it is entirely legal!
At this point the cop put away the pen and clipboard rapidly and said, 'You have a good day sir,' without issuing me with a fine! I was so relieved that I thanked her and drove off. In hindsight, I should have gotten her name and demanded that she show me all the various necessary certification for the camera's functionality and the cops proficiency in using said camera, all of which cops are legally obliged to produce on request in these situations. She was probably hoping that I would not realise that the speed limit hadn't changed and she'd be able to get me to bribe her into not giving me a fine, which I REFUSE to do!
All in all it was terrifying, but it was so cool at the same time!
I pulled over to the side of the road and the female of the pair walked over to my car. I instinctivly removed my drivers license to show her when she arrived and braced myself for the upcoming conversation. I always feel so nervous when I'm being checked by cops, even when I have done nothing wrong and they are just checking peoples licenses and stuff. So being pulled over for an actual offense makes me feel about the size of a pea.
Our conversation went something like this:
Cop: Good day sir. Do you realise you were doing 79 in a 60 zone?
Me: What? Really?
Cop: Would you like to see the picture?
Me: No, it's fine. But, this isn't a 60 zone.
Cop: Yes it is. There is a sign down there [Points ahead of me down the road] saying that the speed limit is 60km an hour.
Me: But I'm not past that sign.
Cop: Yes, but this is a 60 zone.
Me: No it's not! If I remember correctly from my learners liscense test, the speed limit only changes when one passes a sign indicating that it has changed. The last sign that I saw was a sign saying 80km/h and I've still not passed the 60km/h sign, so this is still an 80 zone!
Cop: If you remember from your test, they said that any built up area is a 60 zone. This is a built up area.
Me (Getting a little annoyed now): No it's not! Even if it were, there would need to be a sign indicating that there is a change in the speed limit!
Cop: Well this is a built up area so the limit is 60.
Me: No it's NOT! There are no signs saying so, so how you expect me to magically sniff that the speed limit has changed is beyond me!
Cop (In a very matter-of-fact kind of voice): You don't have to sniff anything. It's a 60 zone.
Me (half stiffling giggles at the cop saying that sniffing wasn't necessary): That's rubbish!
Cop (Now oozing with attitude): Oh! So now you are saying that what we do is rubbish?!
Me (Very calmly): No, I think that what you do is great! It's brilliant that people like you do this job! I'm mearly stating that I don't think that what you are doing here is fair...and I don't believe that it is entirely legal!
At this point the cop put away the pen and clipboard rapidly and said, 'You have a good day sir,' without issuing me with a fine! I was so relieved that I thanked her and drove off. In hindsight, I should have gotten her name and demanded that she show me all the various necessary certification for the camera's functionality and the cops proficiency in using said camera, all of which cops are legally obliged to produce on request in these situations. She was probably hoping that I would not realise that the speed limit hadn't changed and she'd be able to get me to bribe her into not giving me a fine, which I REFUSE to do!
All in all it was terrifying, but it was so cool at the same time!
Monday, February 4, 2008
My first Wits Rant of 2008!
I too think that it is surprisingly early in the year for a rant but it appears that Wits is determined to really piss people off early this year. Good old Wits!
As I am sure many avid blog fundi's who love and worship my blog (big up to you guys!) will know, I have a particular grip with the people who run the university. That is parking. Parking at Wits has always been a very big problem. Several SRC's (Student Representitive Council) have been elected into power based on the premise that they would be the one to sort out the issue of parking on campus. All have failed dismally...
The problem is that the parking office sells more parking permits to students than they actually have parking bays available on campus. Naturally, while the parking office doesn't mind because it ensures them a steady income of money and to practically no cost whatsoever on their part, this leaves the students of the campus in a smidgen of a messy situation. The problem is always made worse at the beginning of the year because that is when everyone is on campus. All the new 1st years are around, most of which drop out by the mid-year exams, and all the postgrads feel that they must make an appearance to prove that they do exist and are working (even when they are not).
So, this year, in a flash of sheer genius that only the bovine, incompetant cretins of the parking office are capable of, it was decided that the already-scarce parking would be limited further as the staff of the small shopping centre on campus needed to have parking allocated specifically to them. So, who lost their parking you must be wondering?
Well, to compliment the bovine incompetance of the previous decision, it was decided that the postgraduate parking would be forfeit for the sake of the employees of the Matrix (shopping centre). So, the 300 odd parking bays which were available to postgrads were reserved for the 15 odd workers at the matrix. So what happens to the postgrads? The story gets better!
The postgrads, have been religated to park in the parking on the other side of campus which has always been the parking of the undergraduates. So this means that now we share all the parking of undergraduates between the undergrads and the postgrads, naturally leading to rage, conflict and the occasional bumper-bashing in the parking lots. In a vain attempt to ease the pressure on the postgrads, it was decided that the parking was to be shared between all students from 2nd year up. All first years have been told to park in a parking area that is miles away from everything. While I don't object to this, what I do object to is the distinct lack of any plan to prevent the 1st years from abusing the system and doing whatever the hell they want.
So, the current situation is thus: Postgrads all over the university are furious; many of whom are considering not coming in to campus at all simply because it is too stressful to even try. Undergraduates are fuming because their available parking has been reduced by about a third, leaving them between a rock and a hard place. The parking office is sitting on a large pile of money paid to them for parking permits and is refusing to discuss or acknowledge the problems of the other parties (personal observation - I actually went to discuss the sitaution with them. They didn't give a shit...).
Ah the joys and freedoms of the student life...
As I am sure many avid blog fundi's who love and worship my blog (big up to you guys!) will know, I have a particular grip with the people who run the university. That is parking. Parking at Wits has always been a very big problem. Several SRC's (Student Representitive Council) have been elected into power based on the premise that they would be the one to sort out the issue of parking on campus. All have failed dismally...
The problem is that the parking office sells more parking permits to students than they actually have parking bays available on campus. Naturally, while the parking office doesn't mind because it ensures them a steady income of money and to practically no cost whatsoever on their part, this leaves the students of the campus in a smidgen of a messy situation. The problem is always made worse at the beginning of the year because that is when everyone is on campus. All the new 1st years are around, most of which drop out by the mid-year exams, and all the postgrads feel that they must make an appearance to prove that they do exist and are working (even when they are not).
So, this year, in a flash of sheer genius that only the bovine, incompetant cretins of the parking office are capable of, it was decided that the already-scarce parking would be limited further as the staff of the small shopping centre on campus needed to have parking allocated specifically to them. So, who lost their parking you must be wondering?
Well, to compliment the bovine incompetance of the previous decision, it was decided that the postgraduate parking would be forfeit for the sake of the employees of the Matrix (shopping centre). So, the 300 odd parking bays which were available to postgrads were reserved for the 15 odd workers at the matrix. So what happens to the postgrads? The story gets better!
The postgrads, have been religated to park in the parking on the other side of campus which has always been the parking of the undergraduates. So this means that now we share all the parking of undergraduates between the undergrads and the postgrads, naturally leading to rage, conflict and the occasional bumper-bashing in the parking lots. In a vain attempt to ease the pressure on the postgrads, it was decided that the parking was to be shared between all students from 2nd year up. All first years have been told to park in a parking area that is miles away from everything. While I don't object to this, what I do object to is the distinct lack of any plan to prevent the 1st years from abusing the system and doing whatever the hell they want.
So, the current situation is thus: Postgrads all over the university are furious; many of whom are considering not coming in to campus at all simply because it is too stressful to even try. Undergraduates are fuming because their available parking has been reduced by about a third, leaving them between a rock and a hard place. The parking office is sitting on a large pile of money paid to them for parking permits and is refusing to discuss or acknowledge the problems of the other parties (personal observation - I actually went to discuss the sitaution with them. They didn't give a shit...).
Ah the joys and freedoms of the student life...
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I'm surrounded by incompetants!!!
My sister got very angry with me when I said that...
Today I returned from Wits to discover that my mother needed me to go and collect some furniture for her from somewhere. So, being a good and obedient son, I got my car keys and headed off to the car to go fetch said furniture. However, I was intercepted by my uncle who had one of those I'm-about-to-make-your-life-hell-and-I'll-enjoy-every-second looks on his face. As I'd suspected, he indeed had planned to make my life miserable and immediately said, 'Oh good! You're home! What are you plans for this afternoon?'
I told him that I was not going to be at his disposal and walked off to the car. I should have known things were going to be pear-shaped when he chuckled like he did as I walked away...
So, I went off and collected the furniture and returned home. Once I'd off-loaded all the stuff from my car, I went to find out from my uncle what he had up his sleeve. It turned out that he wanted me to go up into our roof and oversee the installation of some supporting brackets for our new geyser. We're converting our geysers from just electrical to solar heating and as a result, the geysers need to be mounted differently. Thus, they need to install the geysers onto mounted platforms at a particular height.
So, after much internal grumbling and cursing, I went to observe the installing of the support brackets for the geysers, and...yes, it was as exciting as this sounds.
Once the majority of the installation was complete, I descended from the roof to check with my uncle whether there was anything that needed to be done. It was at this point that he asked me how things were set up in our roof. I described everything and my uncle was slowly realising that things had gone horrible wrong. As it turned out, they installer had installed the brackets on the opposite side to where they were supposed to go!
So, lucky little me will be spending my Saturday in my roof, fixing this problem. Fun times...
Today I returned from Wits to discover that my mother needed me to go and collect some furniture for her from somewhere. So, being a good and obedient son, I got my car keys and headed off to the car to go fetch said furniture. However, I was intercepted by my uncle who had one of those I'm-about-to-make-your-life-hell-and-I'll-enjoy-every-second looks on his face. As I'd suspected, he indeed had planned to make my life miserable and immediately said, 'Oh good! You're home! What are you plans for this afternoon?'
I told him that I was not going to be at his disposal and walked off to the car. I should have known things were going to be pear-shaped when he chuckled like he did as I walked away...
So, I went off and collected the furniture and returned home. Once I'd off-loaded all the stuff from my car, I went to find out from my uncle what he had up his sleeve. It turned out that he wanted me to go up into our roof and oversee the installation of some supporting brackets for our new geyser. We're converting our geysers from just electrical to solar heating and as a result, the geysers need to be mounted differently. Thus, they need to install the geysers onto mounted platforms at a particular height.
So, after much internal grumbling and cursing, I went to observe the installing of the support brackets for the geysers, and...yes, it was as exciting as this sounds.
Once the majority of the installation was complete, I descended from the roof to check with my uncle whether there was anything that needed to be done. It was at this point that he asked me how things were set up in our roof. I described everything and my uncle was slowly realising that things had gone horrible wrong. As it turned out, they installer had installed the brackets on the opposite side to where they were supposed to go!
So, lucky little me will be spending my Saturday in my roof, fixing this problem. Fun times...
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
A day in the life of 'John'
So peeps, today was my first day of working under the pseudonym of 'John'. It was interesting to say the least!
Firstly, there is the obvious problem of not always realising that people are talking to you when they refer to you by your new name. It happened a few times today. Particularly this morning! I arrived at work (late due to some really terrible traffic on which I shall comment later) and immediately was issued with orders which were simply to lay things out so that I could deal with them later and that it would be easy. This I did dutifully after spending a few milliseconds in complete bewilderment, trying to figure out why on earth they had called me John. I think that my brain isn't all that keen on working first-thing in the morning...
Then, the second problem that came up was that others forgot that I was called John. My sisters and Duncan kept forgetting to call me John and would accidentally refer to me as Luke in front of our bosses. Thank God that I wasn't around when these little slip-ups took place! I think I would have probably gone bright red and made deliberate and ever-so-inconspicuous gestures at them to shut up. I'm a very subtle person when it comes to being embarrassed...(It's sarcasm for those who didn't pick up on that...)
Finally, I recieved a name tag with John Duncan on it which just threw my mind for a six (for any American readers, that means that I was very confused)! It was terrible! I got the tag and I stared at it thinking, 'Why the hell have they given me this?! It's not mine! What's wrong with these people?'. The situation dawned on me shortly thereafter but it took a while.
As far as the work side of the day goes, we didn't really do much at all. Most of the day was spent either watching TV in our hotel room (I'll rant about that shortly), parking off at the front desk of the hotel in which we are working or scuttling between the hotel room and the front desk. I did get to run off to get food for everyone though, which was a welcome change from mooching around the hotel.
The hotel was horrible!!! For any readers who are likely to visit South Africa (which is well worth the visit by the way! ;) )and need to stay in a hotel, AVOID the Monte Casino Pallazzo Hotel! Firstly, the workers at this place are completely clueless and have no idea about how to serve the customer. They make screw-ups left, right and centre. I must interject here and say that the porters were very nice though. I think it's just the admin people that are useless.
Another problem with this hotel, from my point of view anyway, is that it has taken cheesy to a whole new level! It's modelled on Italy and tuscan villas, but it would appear that the architects and interior designers had never seen Italy and based all their designs on what they had seen in stylised pictures of tuscan villa style town-houses. That place is in absolutely NO way any reflection of what Italy is like AT ALL!!! Italy is beautiful and classical, whereas this hotel is hideous and lame! The room was so revolting, the headboards for the bed looked like plywood that had been given to some kids under the instruction to paint on a stensil but with as much colour as possible. It was horrendous...and the view from the window of a large, very obviously concrete and fake-looking Monte Casino shopping centre/Casino didn't help things much at all.
So, as you can imagine, I'm not a fan of the hotel or shopping centre/Casino.
As for the traffic, today was, it would appear, national bad-traffic day. We arrived at work late this morning due to an accident involving a taxi and two other motor vehicles just before one of Johannesburgs biggest highway offramps (Rivonia Rd, for those who care). Then, at another large offramp, all the traffic lights were out of order, which automatically resulted in utter chaos. Then, later today, amidst the usual insanity that is Johannesburg post-work traffic, an airplane crashed on one of the highways! It had apparently hit some powerlines and had been forced to try a rather unsuccessful emergency landing on the highway. Crunch!
That's all folks! I leave you with this amazing picture of the most hideous fish I've ever seen up close (He/she lives at the Pretoria Aquarium):
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)