Archive for the 'Durban' Category

21
Feb
13

An honoured and noble profession…

New development in my new life… I am now a shaper of young minds… Except young minds are a bit like runny porridge it turns out, so really all I’m doing is getting my hands dirty in a thankless pursuit of guiding younger people through the steps they need to take before they join the real world… Needless to say, I am not Robin Williams as John Keating, and this is not my personal version of Dead Poets Society.

I don’t know if this is true of all teachers, tutors, lecturers and instructors but I take the role of lecturer rather seriously. Or more accurately, I take it personally. I think of my students as partly reflections on or of me. If they aren’t confident and knowledgeable in the subjects that I teach them, it would mean that I failed. Failure is not something I do well or with any kind of dignity… This quirk has carried through to lecturing as well.

The day I explode at students who I feel aren’t trying or putting the work in is soon at hand. These are college kids. Most of who only do the bare minimum to pass and spend most of their time partying their tits off. Not doing something as sane and responsible as actual college work. This is the natural behaviour of a college student, I suppose. College years are meant for wild parties, wild self-exploration and wilder exploration of others. For me though it’s as much as becoming the future professional you see yourself as, which means milking the chance to study, learn and practise your trade or craft, as much as possible…

Also I put a lot of personal time, energy and thought into my lectures. I read through the prescribed textbook (which turns out to be put together by obnoxious, contrived wankers), make notes, break down the ideas and information so it’s easier to understand and then put together, what I hope, is an entertaining presentation. I want the class to understand the concepts and get excited about the possibilities of what they could do with this new knowledge… Alas… I think I am the only excited person in the lecture room…

I’m usually faced with blank stares for an hour and a half. 11 gormless people sitting through my choreographed song and dance at the front of the room. They aren’t taking notes, most of them aren’t really listening to what I’m saying, they’re not reading or looking at what’s in my presentation. I sometimes wonder if some of them are even still awake. I’m sure there are a few that have mastered sleeping with their eyes open. They stay motionless and expressionless until people around them start moving to leave. Then they move like someone has set their asses on fire. As soon as I say, “…and now we’re done for the day.” The room erupts into activity as they all rush for the door, with the hiss of quietly whispered, “Yesssss…” in celebration.

I do fucking apologize that I’m not some fucking E! Channel – reality show, fringe-celebrity for getting fucked on handy cam in night-vision mode – calibre entertainment. Surely though, you could try not blatantly celebrating – because you’re not hiding it at all – the fact that I have stopped trying my hardest to share what I know with you… Honestly, I feel bad for every teacher and lecturer that I ever disrespected by not doing my best in their class… It is probably one of the most disheartening things when your students seemingly couldn’t give the tiniest of fucks.

There are a few students though who are taxing in another way altogether. For whatever reason, I suspect it is because of my age (I am only 28 this year), some students think they can challenge and pull apart my explanations… These students are worse than the deadpan corpses occupying seats in the class! They’re engaging me, and the subject (kind of), but it’s not genuine. They’re doing it to test my patience or my knowledge about what I’m teaching, all in some attempt to embarrass me in front of their peers. They are, of course, never successful because they don’t know what they’re talking about and it starts to sound like they have a serious learning disability by purposefully trying to twist my explanations around and try trap me in them. I get inches away from screaming, “Stop acting like a fucking retard!!!” almost every lecture.

The irony of it all is that throughout high school and, only at times, while I was studying – I was the perfect example of a crap student. So the steep learning curve I’ve gone through this week is that, lecturing is rewarding in a lot of small ways, but ultimately a thankless job where you’rere probably mocked and berated mercilessly behind your back despite all your good intentions and hard work… As a new lecturer, I have a new-found respect for the profession and those that make it their lives to educate, contribute to the future success of others and overall improve society in their own small way. It truly is a noble and fine thing that they do. If I don’t say so myself…

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01
Jun
12

Not News24

My pet hate, for quite a while now, has been News24. It’s a sort of news website that I visit, in my attempt to stay abreast of what the fuck is going on in the world. They are not the only site I visit, and I usually scan news channels too. I use so many sources mostly because, I like to, and because News24 is inept at its designed purpose, since most of the time your attention will be dragged towards some article under which a heated argument is taking place. First mistake on their part is that they allow people, just regular idiots like you or I, to comment on the news, with pretty much impunity. Secondly, they allow any old fuckwit with an internet connection to post opinion pieces on their site. This is not only fucking retarded, but frankly insane.

literally breaking the news. I doubt they were ever first though.

I can hear some of you shouting, “But wait, you do exactly that, you being the arrogant fuck that you are, posting your opinions all over the fucking internet!” I do, yes. Happily I might add. The difference is I don’t post my illogical ramblings about things I don’t understand on sites that are meant to give readers cold hard unbiased facts about what the devil in green pants is going on in our country and the world.

Why would you want to hear or read someone’s comments about the news? The so-called, man on the street’s perspective. It’s like listening to a fat old shirtless man standing by his fence talking to his equally fat old shirtless neighbour, spouting their views of current affairs. No! The very idea of it seems ridiculous, because they don’t know a thing about current affairs that I don’t! What they know is exactly what you’ve read fed back through their biased opinion. Can anyone really be surprised then when racists, extremists, the religious and all manner of social rejects join in?

the spear of the nation, Brett Murray,

this is what happens when the man on the street speaks… pointless!

I’m not going to blanket every commenter as being a fat old bias man, some of them may very well have a rather balanced rational comment to share. Some might even be woman. (My obligatory sexist comment for this post) Really though, those few people who know enough to make those comments are lost in the deluge of brainless opinion shouters.

The news had it right back in the day when the news was delivered via a newspaper, radio or television programme that offered no way for the public to broadcast their feedback. You got the facts, full stop. If it was discussed, it was done so with family, friends, co-workers, and occasionally strangers in the line for the bus. If something said was stupid or ignorant it only affected those unfortunate enough to be present at the time.

Now, these same people you avoided in the bus line and sat as far away from as possible have a platform to let the stupid fall out and be read by millions. There are no benefits to this. This person is not shedding light on a matter. They’re clouding it with their own bullshit. The only thing that comes of it is it gives your growing disgust with humanity credence. At least it does in my case.

Then we come to the blog posts…

I have this blog and I write for other blogs and sites. The people who search out the blogs I write for are looking to read the sort of stuff I write. (or if search terms are to be believed, “grannies to fuck”) My point being is, that what I write is not news or even entertaining to everybody, and I know this so I am not about to go on to a news site trying to get people read what I write!

half of my readership

the other half of my readership… and yes, they read my blog half naked wearing socks…

So, why the fuck, am I coming across blog posts on a news website? Is this news? Does this deal with the cold hard unbiased facts of current affairs? Is this person an expert in a field that I may somehow benefit from, from reading what they have to say? Will I understand anything about what’s happening more? Is there insight, intelligence, anything of value in this drivel that I am reading?

The short answer is, no! These people are writing, often with no style or any degree of skill, what they think. What they think, is utterly pointless to me. If you feel what you have to say is that important, start your own blog and dispense your brain farts to your heart’s content. I mean it. I am encouraging you to do it.

If you’re good at telling people what you think, after a while, you will get told as much by the number of readers you have. Eventually if you actually are good and it’s not just the person you fuck, the people who must really love you and your pets reading your blog. People will recognize your greatness and ask you to write more, and so your words will gain an even greater audience.

Your audience will have been earned, by perseverance, hours and hours of writing and a smidge of talent. You were either thought-provoking, relevant or entertaining. You were something. You weren’t just being a complete arrogant drooling pion who piggyback on the popularity and credibility of a “news website” to dispense your twaddle. I call you arrogant because you believed you had something floating around your soft head that everyone should read. You don’t. So don’t. Stop.

There we have it… Does this rant have a purpose? No… Not really. I had some time on my hands and decided to write this instead of work or wank. Just maybe you found it thought-provoking or relevant or entertaining. Perhaps a sliver of all three, I hope.

23
Mar
12

what happens when you get sick of job hunting? this…

So, not that anyone would know, I am on the job hunt… again. It hasn’t been long, and the old familiar frustration hasn’t taken long to resurface. The thing about familiarity is that it comes with a barge load of contempt. To say that the frustration has come back with a vengeance is an understatement. I should probably be ashamed of myself for what I am about to show you, but I thought it was amusing. It also serves as a bit of a cautionary tale to those unlucky enough to decide to try make a living off words. It’s not to put you off entirely though, I do love the work that I do, but to choose this life is to have the constant reminder that you will be rejected far more than accepted.

This is an email I received from, probably a very nice lady, who I contacted about a junior copywriter position. I’ve been doing freelance copy and design, with a short stint as an AE, since I left college 3 years ago. We emailed back and forth a few times and this is, safe enough to assume, the last correspondence between us (It actually wasn’t. She replied to this email and was super nice and understanding, which made me feel even more like a dick).

To: Pissing Blood

From: (Lady who sent me the wrong email at the wrong time)

Hi Pissing Blood

Thank you for sending through your portfolio, unfortunately your experience is not suitable for the position advertised. I will keep your details on file for future.

Are you looking for positions in Durban or Cape Town and what are you currently earning?

Warmest Regards,

(Lady who sent me the wrong email at the wrong time)

wtf, kid, fuck you

exactly my reaction

And my response…

To: (Lady who sent me the wrong email at the wrong time)

From: Pissing Blood

Hi (Lady who sent me the wrong email at the wrong time),

A pleasure. Not a problem. Not a line I haven’t heard before, but thanks all the same.

If I may ask a question before I answer yours, which by the way, one of which I find rather personal but will answer anyway. How is one supposed to get this elusive type of experience if one can’t even get a junior position? I am genuinely confused by this ever present requirement that I can never meet.

Now to answer your questions… I am looking for a position anywhere. One where I don’t earn minimum wage after studying for 6 years would be great… Yes, I earn minimum wage! Well to be fair, R300.00 more than minimum wage. (I had actually earned minimum wage that month) Interestingly, by my calculations, if I hadn’t seemingly wasted my time and money studying I could be earning, with a very conservative estimate, around R7 000 p/m by now.

Even more interestingly, I spoke to a “lady of the night” one unfortunate night waiting on the wrong street corner for a lift, that earns that kind of money in a weekend! Not even full days work either, only working nights! That sounds pretty grand to me. So I’ll take anything, anywhere, where I can write or get paid to debase myself only slightly less than selling my body. Could you find some noble employer or trick to throw that kind of cash my way? I wish you the best of luck.

Thanks for your time.

Best Regards,
Pissing Blood

P.S. I don’t mean it personally, you can only imagine how many similar replies I’ve had in the last few years.

P.P.S. I understand if I get blacklisted because of this too…

10
Feb
12

Bobby “Veggie Head” Parsnips brainwashes children!!!

It freaks me out that, in our modern age, religious nut jobs are doing their damnedest to fool future generations into believing in god and all the subsequent fallacies before they’ve even had a chance to think for themselves, perpetuating religious idiocy! This fucker you see below is coming to South Africa and stopping in up the hill from me, this month… I should be there with a sack of rocks!

look at this scum bag...

Who is this beast? This corruptor of childish things? This thief of free thought and curiosity? This fucking superstitious peasant teaching people how to brow beat children into a belief system that is more and more at odds with humanity’s progress? This is Rob Parsons. A lawyer… and a dispenser of lies and irrationality on behalf of the Anglican Church. He writes books like, “The Money Secret” followed by the fucking awfully titled piece of shit, “Getting Your Kids Through Church Without Them Hating God”. I’d be surprised if even a Christian didn’t raise an eyebrow at this dude talking about Christianity. I don’t claim to be an expert on the bible, but anyone with a year or two of Sunday school under their belt could tell you that Jesus, kinda the pivotal character in the Christian bible, made a rather big fucking deal about the rich going to hell, and the poor being blessed. Being poor = good, being rich = bad. How you go from telling people how to get rich, and then claim to have some expertise on how to get in to heaven, seems more than a little at odds even to the most gullible of morons.

worked for superman... not so much for jesus.

Bobby Parsnips, which is what I will call this ridiculous person from now on because a ridiculous man deserves a ridiculous name. Pushed out a turd. Called it a book. Then built a business around it, not unlike his other business which he aims at business people… You see, Bobby was doing corporate and business seminars before he started in on the ministry type stuff. It’s not a huge assumption to make, that he simply expanded on his seminar topics when he saw how lucrative the self-help industry was when aimed at Christians. All he did was tailor his offering to suit a different target market. A market that was already as gullible as 5 year olds and prone to believing twaddle, and a 1000 times bigger than that of businesses looking to improve the lives of their executives beyond office hours. Call me over cynical if you like, but to anyone with a mild sense of what marketing is about, that sounds just like smart business…

The shadiness of Bobby’s intentions aside, it is the very topic of which he is venturing to South Africa to speak on, is what has me slamming my keys and spitting. To me, if a kid ends up hating god, it just means they’re an intelligent, curious kid! They came to the only logical conclusion they could possibly reach, after hearing all sides, which is that religion is a fucking fairy tale for grownups. Old Bobby gets it wrong from the title, those kids don’t hate god at the end of it, because you can’t hate what isn’t real. You can’t have strong feelings either way about a fictional character. What they hate, in reality, is religion. They probably resent their parents… That’s just teenagers for you. Now what Bobby proposes is that the normal thoughts that will lead any normal kid to getting to the point of chucking religion out altogether, is to pre-empted these ideas, and have a strings of dogma and lies to dispel the doubts by using familiar things to kids, like Mario Brothers and “Hip” lingo… He’s loosing the fight already because I think if you gave a minor the old school platform Mario Brothers game today, they’d throw the game controller at our head.

Nothing regular about being a stup with feet

why is everything the christians design so shit???

Despite his badly thought out delivery, his message is still dangerous. Kids growing up in a Christian home, or any religious home for that matter, have a hard enough time shaking off their parents’ and community’s normalised beliefs as is, simply because of pressures to conform. Before you try tell me, “When kids get to a certain age they get a choice to either commit to god or not”, its bullshit, because the offer only comes up after being told from a young age they have to do this or that, or else they’ll burn forever, and way before the rest of society will let them make any decision that will effect the rest of their lives for a minimum of 5 years still. Questioning what they’re told about religion too much, gets them on the road to damnation or the more immediate punishment of disapproval of their folks. The religious go as far as to tell people that doubts about god are planted by the devil, to trick them in to falling out of favour with the man in the sky… It’s like a failsafe built in to religious programming to prevent the smarter ones from escaping. It teaches them to fear their own thoughts for fuck sake! Preventing kids from asking questions about anything in trying to understand the world around them is fucking criminal! It’s child abuse! It’s brainwashing!!! Here then comes this fucking Bobby Parsnips with his nefarious teachings, sold to parents, preachers and paedophiles willing to fork over the money, on how to nip those bright young minds before they catch on that their religion is one big farce.

If the tables were turned, and this Bobby “Vegetable Head” Parsnip’s were here to liberate young people from oppressive, backward churches, religious groups across the country would be bussing in to protest at the event. They’d be marching in the streets. They’d be gathering in their churches praying in circles and lighting candles. They’d be sending out chain mails that would circulate faster than dirty pictures of your girlfriend on the internet. What do atheists do? One fucking guy writes a blog post… Just goes to show… We atheists have got way better shit to do.

better than going to church

this is still better than going to church

13
Dec
11

Columbus drew the Short Straw when he lost his ARV’s.

This review was actually meant for DIY, but thanks to my brain functionality and energy levels being ravaged by that crippling ailment called a job, I failed to get this in on time. Being that I’m not completely unhappy with it though, I’ll put it up here so it at least gets some reads, even if it is less than it should have been. Apologies to the bands, DIY and you poor fucks that actually wanted to read what I thought of the night…

On arriving at unit11 on Friday, I was worried about having agreed to this assignment… The members of Anti-Retro Vinyl’s were blocking the entrance like a bunch of bouncers.  Where I couldn’t help but notice their ridiculously fucking awesome dress sense. Leather jackets were clearly invented by the coolest motherfuckers to grace the planet. I challenge anyone to disagree. It’s like a glorious upper body covering of pure “Fuck You!” My appreciation for wearing animal skin was short-lived, because arriving at a gig where the only people present are the bands and their friends brought me back to the task set before me. I always arrive slightly late to gigs at least that way there are a few eager drinkers to act as buffers between me and the bands. I think the least interaction between myself and the musicians, is for the best. If I have anything negative to say, at least it won’t come out while I’m drunk and obnoxious and within punching distance. Musicians are so sensitive… So what if I hate your music? Fans aren’t swayed by reviews. They mostly entertain the people who already think you suck.

baby, ugly, cry, musicians, rockstars

this is what i picture when musicians throw a haffy

I hadn’t heard two of the bands, being that they’re from out-of-town and this was their first visit. I also hadn’t bothered to find out who was on when, so I was relieved when the first band did their introduction. I was watching Columbus. I enjoyed the kids who named their band after an Italian explorer who missed his target, and to cover it up renamed a people and spread his filthy religion along with the flu. I couldn’t fault the band’s performance, but the sound guy failed to do his job, because when the guitars were clearly meant to kick in, they stayed well in the back. Despite the sound issues the band managed to deliver a set that deserved a way bigger crowd. To me they were reminiscent of some drugged up 90’s Brit rock with unnecessary guitar breaks. A lot about them kind of said they’re a young band, they still walk awfully close to that line where, when crossed, could make them just another band trying to sound like the radio, and they didn’t seem totally convinced about what they sounded like themselves. I imagine they’d go well as an accompaniment to City Bowl Mizers, vocally they seemed very similar, but more angsty.

Columbus at unit11

Next was another band I didn’t recognise, so I safely assumed that it was Short Straw. If I had to say which SA band had impressed me the most that night, and maybe even this year, I’d have to say it was these guys. Sure they’re doing what a lot of other bands are doing, that indie, folksy, sounds like the Mormons with burning STD’s thing, but they also happen to be a class addition to those bands and manage to throw a bit of an African flavour at it. I dug them so much I got the album and I suggest you do the same… A band that write and perform a song about Keanu Reeves and a song about how you can go fuck yourself, is fucking cool despite not wearing leather. It’s all very well taking yourselves seriously, but it doesn’t mean you can’t entertain your audience with a couple of nonsense songs now and then. They only played 3 shows in 3 days this time round, but if you care to remember, definitely go check them out next time they’re in town.

Short Straw, Unit11, Durban, Johannesburg, South Africa, Live, Music

Short Straw at unit11

Last but not least, The Anti-Retro Vinyls. Clearly the coolest looking band performing on the night. I have to admit that they didn’t really fit the bill. To me at least, The ARV’s are more of a drunk party band that attract nubile young girls and drunks wanting to molest nubile young girls, not hairy dudes in low V-neck shirts who go home alone after the band plays. Basically they are not part of the indie folk scourge that has taken over popular music these days. Looking, part Ramones part The Damned; they deliver a faster-paced, catchy, melodic sing-a-long pop rock, and despite missing their guitarist and front man Greg taking over the six string duties for the night, that’s exactly what they belted from the stage. Admittedly I wanted to start going Oh-oh-oh-oh-ooh with the band, but have far too much dignity. For them to end off the night just didn’t gel. At some gigs, mashing a couple unrelated genres and sounds together can turn out as a pretty well-rounded evening of music. In this case… it wasn’t. The ARV’s set didn’t go down as well as what it should have, and how could it have after watching a band like Short Straw who received a crowd warmed up by Columbus. Despite this gig though, The ARV’s are part of that new wave of Durban bands that could end up being an institution.

anti-retro vinyls, unit11, durban, south africa, live, music

anti retro vinyls at unit11

Not a bad night of music at the soon-to-be dearly departed, Unit11. All the bands were great in their own rights and all of them deserved more attention than they got on the night. All the douche bags that were at the Wave House that night, you deserve every ounce of disappointment for supporting a DJ that can’t use a proper word for a moniker, playing at a mall that manages fuck up every gig they ever host, when a great live music venue was hosting great bands. When will you people learn?

Go check out the bands on facebook.

All photos courtesy pigeoncoop.co.za (in case you’re too stupid to read)

09
Dec
11

posts from the toilet: an accidental work of social commentary.

China… the land of the rising sun. Wait, that’s Japan. So the land of Communism, human rights violations, cheap shit, and a profound, and sometimes hilarious, misunderstanding of Western culture. They often come out with weird products that are completely misguided, comically named, or almost naively ironic. An example of all of these is…

China, Chinese products, Misunderstanding, Brilliant

Obama Ballpens

Barack Obama, the first African-American President of the United States, who will undoubtedly go down as a historical figure, in his own time, is unknowingly lending his somewhat fading integrity and trustworthiness to a lowly cheap-ass ballpoint pen made in Commie China and sold in developing South Africa. Talk about globalisation. The pens probably don’t even write more than a few words before giving up and disintegrating in your hand. This brand of pens says so much about the times we live in, and the country we’re lucky or unlucky enough, depends on your feelings about SA, to be born in. A world-renowned artist or designer couldn’t have gotten it so perfect…

19
Oct
11

introducing: posts from the toilet

So I finally gave into Mega-Darth-Tron insisting I catch up to the rest of the internet nerds and get a phone that let’s me waste more of my life online. What was the very first thing I did? Take hilarious photos of animals… I’m all kinds of ashamed with myself today. Anyway here’s the photo. Let’s call this the first mobile post and just hope they get better.




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