The things I do for the people I like!

I walked into a Christian bookstore today…. and bought a book. Yeah, that’s right. This atheist bought Christian literature.

I never thought I’d ever walk into a Christian anything, let alone buy their merchandise. Not even while I was still delirious… err religious.

Okay calm down now. It wasn’t for me. Don’t worry, I’m not falling off the wagon. It was for a work colleague who has been layed off due to the company downsizing. He was a good guy; pretty religious, but a good guy. I had to show my appreciation for the support he gave me to manage the finances on my various capital projects.

The book? It’s an Afrikaans book titled Seisoen van Hoop, which translates into Season of Hope. Don’t ask about the author; he’s not essential to my story. I thought it would be appropriate and give him [my colleague] comfort during this trying time in his life.

Now don’t you dare buy this book, and I don’t want to enter any into discussion about false hope either. We can all do something nice every once in a while and not analyse it too much.

Freshly Played #3: Edith Piaf

Non je ne regrette rien

A cousin told me she would like this song played at her funeral. I made a deal with her that I would be honoured if she would do the same for me. Bit macabre, yes. But there’s never a good time to plan your mourners’ entertainment, no?

I’m older, so there’s no point in waiting for the dreaded day to listen this again.

It’s your party and you can preach if you want to

Dear (name removed),

I thought it was a really cool idea when your new wife decided to throw you a surprise party for your 50th birthday. Dude, I thought that it would be great to see you again after so many years and reminisce about the glory days of boozing and the card games you so loved.

I had no idea that Jesus was going to be the star attraction at the event. To be fair, I don’t suppose you knew either, it being a surprise and all. But I guess you would have had no objections, as I learned that day that you had been busy over the years…. becoming a pastor.

When I walked into the hall with a few other friends and glanced at the tables and people already sitting there, I noticed a few vaguely familiar faces; faces that I’d not seen for many years. With the band at the front warming up or something, it appeared [at that instant] that my Saturday evening was going to be fun and entertaining. I was so looking forward to doing some catching up…

Still standing at the hall entrance, I was looked around, trying to spot the bar or some such facility when you walked in, dressed in a suit; I don’t ever remember seeing you in a suit before. When the cries of “surprise” died down, I reached over to shake your hand; it was good seeing you again after so many years.

Failing to spot the bar, we walked over to an empty table right at the front of the hall and sat down. Having being seated for barely a minute, we were asked to rise for an opening prayer. “No sweat,” I thought, “let’s get the obligatory waste-of-time out of the way.”

The opening prayer was followed by a couple of gospel tunes from the band and then a couple of songs of praise for Jesus. We were still standing. I grimaced through it all; at least the band was good, the singing not too bad. And then came another pastor with another prayer.

We were still standing. It was becoming mildly annoying. I glanced over to my companions, and they appeared to be in the same frame of mind.

Thankfully the pastor asked us to sit down, but the party that had degenerated into a crusade for Jesus, continued. The pastor launched into a sermon about family, occasionally reading passages from the bible. The pastor’s patronising, and patriarchal diatribe about how the father was the boss-dude of the family was starting to turn my mild annoyance into anger.

[During this sermon from Proverbs, I was surprised to learn that god hates six things, but positively abhors or detests a 7th thing, namely, sowing discord among brethren; although the pastor adapted it for his particular use. I guess the next time a see a Christian fundamentalist waving a banner that “God hates fags,” I will ask him or her ” but does God really detest/abhor homosexuals?”]

It was now nearly an hour later.

After that ghastly sermon, a teenager came up to pray and besmirch Jesus some more, in a sort of lilting, but disconcerting tone. That’s when my companions and I decided to leave.

Dude, I really appreciate that your wife cared enough to want you to celebrate a key milestone in your life with friends you had got to know over the years. And I would have been glad to be there, but I should not have had to compete with Jesus for your attention.

For me a party is a party, is a party, preferably with booze – lots of it. Dude, I just have to say it –  proselytizing is a party-killer… for me at least.

I hope you had a good evening and 50th birthday nonetheless. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to celebrate it with you. Perhaps we’ll get together again, without Jesus this time.

Your secular friend,

Lenny

The shit they’re saying in politics #2

Another Brick In The Wall

*PA - The Telegraph, 31 March 2011

Mamphela Ramphele, a well-known South African academic reckons that our education system is worse now than under the “bad old” days of apartheid. Off course, a fair measure of ordinary South Africans with little to no academic qualifications, have been saying the same thing [more or less] for some time now.

Now that it’s being backed up by a respected academic, gives this contention more bite.

However Angie Motshekga, the latest in a procession of ANC Ministers, under whose tenure the education system has been steadily putrefying, prefers to keep her head lodged firmly up her ample butt, by insisting that that’s not the case. This jewel in the ANC’s illustrious line-up of incompetent Ministers, claims that the problems in education are:

…not because it’s worse than during apartheid but because it’s not in the level that we want it to be.

We may not be where we want to be. But it’s wrong — I think treacherous — to say we’re going back to Bantu education…

No! no! no! you pompous political prat. You, Angie are not at the level required to administer something as important as education. You are the traitor here; for stabbing your own people in the back and preparing them to be little more than voting fodder. You deserve to wear the dunce cap for the rest of your miserable, deceitful life.

Shame on you for being just another brick in the ANC wall of incompetence and denial.

*Fair usage. Source

Freshly Played #2: Steindór Andersen and Sigur Rós

A Ferd Til Breidafjardar

I’ve been listening to this “song” for a week and have still not tired of it. Just simply beautiful. Steindor Anderson is Iceland’s most famous rimur singer. Rimur are epic poems with two to four lines per stanza which rhyme and alliterate. Sigur Ros, for those who don’t know, is a brilliant post-rock band from Iceland; the band’s name translates from Icelandic as Victory Rose.

The documentary video above features Steindor Anderson singing live with Sigur Ros backing him. Watch to the end for fascinating visuals of strange-ish Icelandic foods and the stunning landscape.

Men who don’t cook

Many years ago, I cooked nearly every day. Living alone, it was a necessity. Over the last few years I stopped cooking altogether, except for the occasions when out with the guys camping, fishing or spur-of-the-moment holiday trips, when I helped out, playing second fiddle to better cooks.

Being able to buy take-away dinners and dine out has gotten so easy, one tends to become inured to its lazy charm.

Walking through the kitchen today, I stopped to gaze dissolutely at some of the utensils and gizmos I’d acquired over the years, when I actually bothered to cook for myself. Gathering some serious dust, they were.

I pulled down a Kenwood electric wok I ‘d bought many years ago and used only a few times. I don’t know why I picked this appliance, as I didn’t particularly have any ingredients to put it to proper use. But for some strange reason, I felt I had to do something with it, anything; just to experience what it felt like to cook again. I soon had that sucker washed and ready….. but for what?

Scratching around I found free range eggs, onions, a couple of chillies that had grown ripe, a piece of chorizo sausage. And in no time I was gazing at an omelette in the wok, which looked like a kings lunch. I soon wolfed that sucker down, and felt an unbelievable sense of satisfaction and achievement.

Yes, it was only an omelette this time, but next time I’m going to climb the culinary heights once again. Men who don’t cook may not be missing much, but I’m convinced they’ll never be complete men.

Freshly played #1: Bush

Red Bull gives you… “wingnuts”

Image via Wikipedia

They’re at it again. Will these wingnuts never learn that the parochial views of a minority of the population cannot be used to hold the majority to ransom?

In the most recent in a long list of attacks on the freedom of speech, Red Bull has been forced to pull an advert from television which supposedly mocks their faith. In a population in excess of 20 million adults, less than 1000 complaints seemed to do the trick. Go figure!

Errol Naidoo, director of the Family Policy Institute (otherwise known as the Self-appointed Guardians of Morality), offered up a typical response* from that side of the fence:

The advert is meant to offend as it depicts the Jesus character in the cartoon using the name of Jesus as a curse word

Red Bull wouldn’t dream of mocking religious figures of other religions. Christianity and Jesus in particular are singled out for mockery by secular humanists and other anti-Christian bigots

FPI is launching a nationwide boycott of Red Bull products in response to this blasphemous attack on the Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh please Errol, fly off that high horse of yours, drink some Red Bull and learn to laugh. It’s called satire.The advert was designed to sell a product, not mock your religion. Your religion does a bang-up job of attracting derision all by itself; Red Bull couldn’t hope to compete with that.

Every time these bigots try to draw attention to their imagined plight by forcing banning and censorship, they actually wind up creating more publicity for that which they attack. Here is the advert which has been uploaded to YouTube, for the more broad-minded people out there:

* Another response from Chantell in the comments column of the article: “I have told many people that did not even see the ad about the mockery, they immediatly said they wont buy red bull again!” Sound familiar? Yes, that’s typically what the religious do – believe what they’re told.

How Arsenal Got Their Groove Back

What have we here? Five straight wins in a row in the EPL, four consecutive wins coming from behind. They’re calling that a new record.

So what’s happened to make Arsenal get their familiar groove back? Here’s six reasons why I think they’re dancing up a storm:

1. Robin van Persie – 26 goals scored already in the EPL, some of the most stunning I’ve seen. Need I say more.
2. Tomas Rosicky – His resurgence of form has changed the dynamics of the midfield which was starting to look rather lacklustre without the two who left and who shall remain nameless. And off course, Alex Song remains a steady force to guide things along; his brilliant passes are beginning to tell.
3. Theo Walcott – Seems to be maintaining consistency, getting better at making quick decisions,  and is starting to pick out killer passes.
4. Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain – a breath of fresh air. His inclusion in the starting line-up has infused a new energy in the team. What a pleasure to watch a youngster making his mark on the game.
5. Thomas Vermaelen – his return has bolstered the defence, which was practically non-existent in his absence. I should also give a shout out here to Laurent Koscielny who is improving remarkably, Bacary Sagna whose return gives us that extra dimension on the right wing, and Wojciech Szcezesny whose goalkeeping skills keep on improving.
6. Arsene Wenger – the manager’s pig-headedness in the face of massive pressure from the fans is a measure of his principles, and perhaps a blessing in disguise.

So what’s going to keep this momentum going? More of the same. The new-found energy and confidence must convert to relentless pressure for the whole 90 minutes. And it wouldn’t hurt to see the backs of Marouane Chamakh, Johan Djourou and Andre Arshavin for good, and a certain German striker joining the ranks instead.

For he who is without a book

Were I to come across a burning house,

and not stopping, the abode to douse

I would rush in to save as many books as I could lug.

Finding no books, I’d return with a big jug

of gasoline, and bone dry wood

To end the wretch’s life for good.

My first attempt at poetry.

And what if the poor soul loves his reading on Kindle only?

Too bad I say, man cannot live on Kindle alone…