Well, actually it does not…
But making ludicrous claims has been the forte of mankind since time immemorial. And most do so to further their own insidious political, social, economic and religious agendas.
Take this asswipe from Saudi Arabia for instance: Sheikh Saleh bin Saad al-Luhaydan who is styled as a judicial and psychological consultant to the Gulf Psychological Association claims that women who drive cars will cause damage to their ovaries and pelvis.
This misogynistic claim was made in support of a ban on women driving cars, which is now being challenged by Saudi female activists. And it does not require rocket science to figure out that the roots of this absurd ban on women driving originates in archaic religious literature.
Men have for thousands of years hidden behind or perverted cringe-worthy doctrine of a religious or political nature to spew forth vitriolic bile that aims to keep women and mankind in general in check and subservience. This should not, and must not be tolerated any longer.
Heed my words; you abide the words of clergymen, politicians and other ideologues at the risk of your own well-being, not to mention sanity.
After partying out a 4-day weekend, I have had one of those rather inspirational weeks in which I strained to find anything worthy of posting.
And so, for the purposes of just putting pen to paper (so to speak), I leave you with this:
If you’re counting the calories in your daily food intake, I really feel for you. Yes, it may well be the healthy thing to do, but it is life-sucking all the same. For the record, I don’t indulge in calorie-counting, but I’ve lost a few kilos anyway – see I’m one of those lucky one’s.
But I guess it may be insensitive to those who are struggling with their weight. Therefore if you’re counting your calories and are still found wanting, think of it like this*:
Over my many years of binge drinking I’ve suffered through some pretty awful head clangers and gut busters.
I’ve tried the occasional hangover cure punted by fellow guzzlers who always swear by its efficacy, like I’m sure many of you have too… and none of them work, as I’m sure many of you have discovered to your dismay also. Off course there’s the infamous “stay drunk,” which assumes that you never have to at some point rejoin the human (rat) race. And I have even seen a claim of a scientific cure, but it’s obvious that Professor Michael Oshinsky’s rats have not partied like a mofo.
Most of us have consigned ourselves to just facing it; although I’m almost sure none of us actually think too much about the consequences. However new research suggests that there may be a way to beat the hangover, but you may not like it.
Initial research carried out at the University of Southern Denmark and published in the journal, Alcoholism: Clinical & Experimental Research, seem to indicate that older people (60+ years) were less likely to experience a hangover than younger people (18 – 29 years). In other words there is a distinct correlation between age and being and victim of the dreaded hangover.
However, as you may well know correlation is not causation, but on a personal level, I can attest that I do suffer less hangovers as I approach 50, but that may well be due to my choice of classier beverages, as the study also concedes.
So, all in all I find it quite amusing that the cure for hangovers is simply “grow the fuck up.”
The best possible way to start a new work week is with calmness and serenity. However that’s not nearly as easy as it sounds, especially when having to face that dreaded Monday.
Music normally does the trick for me. I’m talking classy music here, not that dreadful pop variety that the young crowd fill their heads with these days. You know the “artists” I’m referring to. Usually guitar rhythms works a treat, but sometimes I need something more substantial.
And new age or world music fits the bill quite nicely. If it’s from another culture or ethnicity entirely different from my own, all the better. That’s where Shakuhachi comes in.
Shakuhachi are wind-blown instruments that produce a haunting melody. Originally introduced from China into Japan in the 8th century, they are traditionally made from the root end of bamboo plant.
One of my choice pieces featuring the Shakuhachi is by Uttara Kuru, titled Wings of the Eagle. Have a listen:
So here’s my proposal: when you want someone to calm the fuck down, just say Shakuhachi. And here’s hoping the rest of your week will be serene.
This week while browsing through the local newspapers online, it felt as though I was reading The Onion, but you just can’t make this shit up. South African politicians are notorious for their self-indulgent and disdainful behaviour, they’re also pretty reckless when it comes to revealing how utterly inane they are.
Must come naturally; just has to be…
While our President was castigating the media about being unpatriotic for reporting on crime and corruption, telling them how their negativity made him think about fleeing the country, a Premier from the Northern Cape was well into a spending spree, splashing out around R50,000 of taxpayers’ money on fast food. Meanwhile the ANC Deputy Chief Whip in Parliament was regaling the house with tales about how Christians don’t lie.
President Zuma told a bunch of journalism students that on a recent trip to Mexico, he was told that the Mexican press does not report on crime in that country because it was patriotic not to do so, in order for the country to succeed. Seems the President was blissfully unaware of how the Mexican press was self-censoring out of fear, in one of the world’s most dangerous countries. So our President is either gullible or bending the truth to suit his own agenda. I pick, witless.
Another member of this artless bunch of fat cats, Sylvia Lucas was only recently inaugurated as Premier of the Northern Cape, by none other that President Zuma. She however lost no time in getting to grips with taxpayers’ money… by blowing it on junk food. A spokesperson from her department left reporters with this gem:
How would we have eaten if we didn’t use taxpayers’ money?
And to round things off, Chief Whip Doris Dlakude, another passenger on President Zuma’s gravy train, was quite nonchalant about dodging the responsibility of scheduling a critical debate in Parliament by revealing a sacred truth; that Christians don’t lie:
We are Christians here, we are not going to lie to anyone. We are still committing to this debate, it will see the light of day.
And that wraps up another week in the lives of our hysterical politicians. Off course, there’s much more to come; it’s a given.
Since I was hosting a couple of swell gals on this trip to the Kruger National Park and doing all the driving, I have been rather lax in snapping pictures. This is all I have.
I’m not sure if this is the same fella who was loping around right outside my chalet on my visit last year, but he might as well be because it’s damn near impossible to tell them apart. I have in the past mistaken this species for an iguana, but from the brief research I’ve conducted, looks like a monitor lizard. I’d be grateful if anyone could set me straight.
I haven’t snapped bush pigs before. Incidentally, I’ve always thought that bush pigs were otherwise known as warthogs, but they are definitely not as I now know that warthogs run with their tails up.
Snapped these in Lower Sabie, Kruger National Park this weekend. The girls seemed to be quite taken by its simple beauty. Haven’t the foggiest what variety they are though.
Thanks to my Facebook friends, I now know that these flowers are known as the Impala Lily or more specifically the Winter Impala Lily, as this particular variety blooms from around mid-July to September. They’re quite common around the Kruger National Park area.
Apparently the plant contains a water latex that is highly toxic, and domestic animals have been known to die after consumption, but not wild animals. The extracted latex has been used by indigenous tribes to make poisoned arrows.
It’s cousin, the Summer Impala Lily is on the endangered species list because of plant poaching.