Monday, December 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
BHH
This Thursday is another Blogers' Happy Hour.The date is 25th September, the time is 6.30pm and the place is Mateos.
If you are a blogger and you find yourself in Kampala on that date, feel free to drop by. We just might be talking about the NSSF scandal or Big Brother or the new mini-skirt ban in the works. Then again, maybe not.
Do drop by and see for yourself.
P.S This is officially my last post here. I will keep announcing the BHH on both this blog and the Kampalan as well as my new home http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Work.
I am back at work, back at the Gulag.
Also, I can't believe I'm saying this but I've moved. I'm here
http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com/
Also, I can't believe I'm saying this but I've moved. I'm here
http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com/
Monday, September 01, 2008
Ugandan bloggers gone crazy
You have probably by now already seen the above titled article in the paper and this is my reply to that.
Citizen journalists have taken the world by storm providing an alternative source of information on their blog, but Ugandan bloggers are not standing up to be counted, writes Dennis D. Muhumuza
On the evening of July 31, a short woman in blue compact jeans chased a beefy man around a bar table as she mirthfully pleaded to have her phone back. Patrons raised their eyes from their drinks and watched on mystified, wondering if this “run-and-catch” was part of the entertainment menu.
The players were members of the Ugandan blogging community who had just gathered at the Turkish restaurant, Effendys, with the rest of the inner circle for their monthly meet-ups – what they call the “Happy Hour”.
Before arriving here an hour or thereabouts, a debate had raged between two bloggers and a visiting American: Are all Ugandan bloggers okay with taking their meetings to a bar? (As the organizer, I can safely say that the location for our meeting is always on the table for discussion, you would think he would have asked me about that.) And what’s the whole essence of having a Happy Hour? (Again, he could have asked those of us who turn up. I will go ahead and list them. To put a face to the blogs we read and love so much. To have a forum where we can discuss, face to face, some of the controversial posts that we have read in the previous month. To have fun and meet new people and make new friends. To engage intellectually on different things including the rising food prices. If he attended all the BHHs, he would have known this.) Is it just to celebrate life by drinking expensive coffee and beer, fraternising, raising money for an orphanage or engaging intellectually say on the rising food prices? (What is wrong with celebrating life? His blog tagline is “Friend of God” and from all my time going to church I can say that is what life is about. Rejoice and be glad in the life that God has given you. Again, you might think he would have raised that.)
With Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing in the background, Thomas Smyth literally shouted his order, for that was the only way the waitress was going to hear. That’s about when the two adults pursued themselves around tables. It was the beginning of a shocking evening for the American. (I was there, I can honestly say, we could have moved. Actually we did move and if anyone had suggested it, we could have switched seats again. Aside from that, I managed to have a conversation with Thomas Smyth just fine without having to scream at each other. Also, what were this American’s expectations? He didn’t engage anyone at all, I walked up to him to make conversation and if he was truly the researcher he claims to be, you would think he would have gone out of his way to engage everyone and find out what he had come to find out which I honestly still don’t know.)
Soon, girls were eyeing him surreptitiously and whispering (possibly about his towering height) and taking pictures with their phones. Thomas Smyth gulped his drink and left the Happy Hour prematurely. He had come with a hypothesis: That this community of erudite bloggers was going to transform the Ugandan society but a few minutes with them and he began to doubt. (Girls were eyeing him?)
He didn’t know that a clever Ugandan blogger, S.A.G.E, had in August 2007 summed the Ugandan blogging scenario as “the theatre of the absurd” for which he incurred the wrath of the “blogren.” Blogger Savage had called him “a waste of space on earth and a disgrace to the entire human population” and insulted his parents saying they would have done the “world a huge favour had they decided to have a good night’s sleep instead of engaging in hanky panky the night” S.A.G.E was “conceived.” (clever Ugandan blogger? Dennis, why do you agree with the description “theatre of the absurd”? Is it because much of what you see on blogs does not align with your strict moral code? What happened to the whole “hate the sin not the sinner” I have been living by as a Christian myself?)
Ironically, Savage’s attack of S.A.G.E drew a backlash as equally inane. One blogger Keitetsi said Savage sounded like “a menopausal goose” and that if his comments were “on paper, it would be the kind of stuff people in jail use to wipe their butts.”
As drama ensued, the personalities of many Ugandan bloggers were exposed to a level where the discerning would no longer find it confounding that a woman would for example upload a picture of her g-string on her blog and ask if the readers like it.
A June 30 blog entry boldly titled “Boobs!” by Ugandan blogger Carlo, contained four pictures of women’s cleavage. Her blog soon jammed with comments from men and women begging with desperation to know to whom the ample busts belonged – Carlo’s or her sisters. Only a few wondered if she was crazy to flash such erotica.
“My blog is called Carlo’s for a reason; it’s all about me, so I put up what I want,” she defended herself. “I put them [cleavage] there to attract attention as a light-hearted beginning of a week so we’re not totally focused on serious issues but can laugh sometimes and be ridiculous, you get?”
While it’s true it’s the blogger’s prerogative to fill their blogs with whatever material, those creating blogs are prompted to restrict their sites to invited readers or to put a disclaimer that the blog contains adult content. (Does you blog have a disclaimer that you are a Christian? Something that may offend strong Muslims or Atheists who would rather not read your blog? There is just so much that can be offensive and that is simply human. When you read and decide you are offended, you can always leave. You are not required to keep the page on your screen.)
From S.A.G.E’s understanding, bloggers are supposed to update their lives and voice their opinions on things they strongly feel about to provoke intellectually stimulating debate. (What is with all this intellectual bullshit? What I find intellectual might not be intellectual to you? For example, your failure at being an objective reporter have significantly reduced my view of your intelligence. Does that mean I should stop reading your blog or the Monitor for that matter?)
“But in Uganda, it’s more of who’s more dirty,” he says. “They are not going to be interested if you don’t tickle the bad boy and the bad girl in them; so girls talk about the first time they lost their virginity in the shower room, and boys about how sweet sex in the morgue is and everyone cheers and their egos are massaged. Their superficiality comes to the surface as they smite those that would rather tell them the truth than hype them.” (why is the only person you interview one who you know has the exact same views as you do? What is sad is I don’t have a degree in Mass Com and I would still have done a better job than you on this article.)
Journalist Rodney Muhumuza agrees. “We don’t seem to have a lot of reported blogs in Uganda, which is very disappointing. In America, bloggers investigate and conduct interviews to scoop The New York Times but most Ugandan bloggers that I know care about life at its most basic,” said Muhumuza, who writes The Kampala Review blog. “It’s more often about sex, sex and more sex. It’s hardly the stuff that will inspire a sober mind.” (OMG, do a google search on Ugandan blogs or visit Node Six’s new aggregator)
Could it be that they know they write banality that they hide under pseudonyms? Rather than heroes, you meet unrepentant cynics and provocateurs that spend a bulk of their time venting, fantasising and gibbering about trivialities with unflagging devotion. ( A blog is perhaps the one thing that truly upholds our freedom of speech. Why do you want to quell this? I have as much a right to vent and fantasise and work on my writing as you do to writing badly researched articles that appear in a National newspaper)
Writing about life in the Internet age, David Kaiza dramatically captured this in the June 30-July 6 issue of The EastAfrican by noting, “The culture (of blogging) puffs out like a hot air balloon; directionless and pointless.” (This definition if it applies to Ugandan blogs should also apply to blogs worldwide. Do you know how many blogs about celebrities and day to day happenings exist world wide? Do you even care?)
It is this lack of focus that has left Ugandan journalist and blogger Benon Herbert Oluka disappointed: “I would expect people to use their blogs to give more insight into everyday happenings because I tend to get hooked to thought-provoking articles than someone whose blog is about where they hang out last night and blah, blah, blah.” (When did this become the definition of a blog? WHEN?)
One of the most popular and respected Ugandan bloggers, 27th Comrade, thinks many Ugandan bloggers are “simply not interested in serious discourse; it’s not a bad thing; it’s just different.”
Flipping the other side of the coin, there are also purpose-driven bloggers, however few, that command the respect of the intelligent and educated alike. Tumwijuke of the Ugandan Insomniac blog is for example loved for her ability to “poke the social conscience of people”.
Writing with zing and flair, she has almost single-handedly cracked into the dominance of traditional media by arousing discussion on issues of national and global importance, for which she was in February this year voted Uganda’s best blogger by fellow “blogren”. For some however, the uniqueness of blogs is the greatest thing to happen online.
“Bloggers don’t have to follow conventional rules like the newspapers and that’s what I love most,” says Jared Ombui an avid reader of blogs. “Writing for them is a heart thing and often you find closet stories; the kind you will never see in our newspapers. I love that they are usually short and funny and also the comments from readers are hilarious.”
For blogger Denda, it’s the spirit of comradeship that he loves about blogging. “It’s like neighbours checking on each other,” he said. “I knock on your blog anytime and find out what’s going on in your ‘house’. During the Happy Hour we share ideas and swap books and meet some of the bloggers we love to read –that’s the whole beauty about blogging.”
It’s a positive sign especially in this era where blogs are increasingly being seen as points of reference. Already, there is a heated debate on the Internet that they will soon replace mainstream media which shows the power blogs possess.
Still, if the world’s best comic-strip artist was to invent something that best depicts the Ugandan blogging experience as whole, it would not be the kind patriots would like. It’s only after we have revolutionised the way we think and blog that people like Thomas Smyth will not leave the Happy Hour with inhibitions.
Dennis, I am quite disappointed in your reporting and not because you have touched on a subject close to my heart but because I expected more from you as a qualified journalist. Your article is one-sided, not well researched and what’s worse it really sounds like it. It does not sound professional at all but then again, how many articles in our papers do. It’s no wonder I only read feature articles. The reporters suck, the editors are letting this bad writing run in the papers because there is nothing better to run and the public is also settling or in my case reading news off the internet that is better written and better researched and more in-depth than what is run in our papers.
Probably what is irking me the most is, you won't take this criticism constructively and it will simply fuel another badly researched article on your part.
Citizen journalists have taken the world by storm providing an alternative source of information on their blog, but Ugandan bloggers are not standing up to be counted, writes Dennis D. Muhumuza
On the evening of July 31, a short woman in blue compact jeans chased a beefy man around a bar table as she mirthfully pleaded to have her phone back. Patrons raised their eyes from their drinks and watched on mystified, wondering if this “run-and-catch” was part of the entertainment menu.
The players were members of the Ugandan blogging community who had just gathered at the Turkish restaurant, Effendys, with the rest of the inner circle for their monthly meet-ups – what they call the “Happy Hour”.
Before arriving here an hour or thereabouts, a debate had raged between two bloggers and a visiting American: Are all Ugandan bloggers okay with taking their meetings to a bar? (As the organizer, I can safely say that the location for our meeting is always on the table for discussion, you would think he would have asked me about that.) And what’s the whole essence of having a Happy Hour? (Again, he could have asked those of us who turn up. I will go ahead and list them. To put a face to the blogs we read and love so much. To have a forum where we can discuss, face to face, some of the controversial posts that we have read in the previous month. To have fun and meet new people and make new friends. To engage intellectually on different things including the rising food prices. If he attended all the BHHs, he would have known this.) Is it just to celebrate life by drinking expensive coffee and beer, fraternising, raising money for an orphanage or engaging intellectually say on the rising food prices? (What is wrong with celebrating life? His blog tagline is “Friend of God” and from all my time going to church I can say that is what life is about. Rejoice and be glad in the life that God has given you. Again, you might think he would have raised that.)
With Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing in the background, Thomas Smyth literally shouted his order, for that was the only way the waitress was going to hear. That’s about when the two adults pursued themselves around tables. It was the beginning of a shocking evening for the American. (I was there, I can honestly say, we could have moved. Actually we did move and if anyone had suggested it, we could have switched seats again. Aside from that, I managed to have a conversation with Thomas Smyth just fine without having to scream at each other. Also, what were this American’s expectations? He didn’t engage anyone at all, I walked up to him to make conversation and if he was truly the researcher he claims to be, you would think he would have gone out of his way to engage everyone and find out what he had come to find out which I honestly still don’t know.)
Soon, girls were eyeing him surreptitiously and whispering (possibly about his towering height) and taking pictures with their phones. Thomas Smyth gulped his drink and left the Happy Hour prematurely. He had come with a hypothesis: That this community of erudite bloggers was going to transform the Ugandan society but a few minutes with them and he began to doubt. (Girls were eyeing him?)
He didn’t know that a clever Ugandan blogger, S.A.G.E, had in August 2007 summed the Ugandan blogging scenario as “the theatre of the absurd” for which he incurred the wrath of the “blogren.” Blogger Savage had called him “a waste of space on earth and a disgrace to the entire human population” and insulted his parents saying they would have done the “world a huge favour had they decided to have a good night’s sleep instead of engaging in hanky panky the night” S.A.G.E was “conceived.” (clever Ugandan blogger? Dennis, why do you agree with the description “theatre of the absurd”? Is it because much of what you see on blogs does not align with your strict moral code? What happened to the whole “hate the sin not the sinner” I have been living by as a Christian myself?)
Ironically, Savage’s attack of S.A.G.E drew a backlash as equally inane. One blogger Keitetsi said Savage sounded like “a menopausal goose” and that if his comments were “on paper, it would be the kind of stuff people in jail use to wipe their butts.”
As drama ensued, the personalities of many Ugandan bloggers were exposed to a level where the discerning would no longer find it confounding that a woman would for example upload a picture of her g-string on her blog and ask if the readers like it.
A June 30 blog entry boldly titled “Boobs!” by Ugandan blogger Carlo, contained four pictures of women’s cleavage. Her blog soon jammed with comments from men and women begging with desperation to know to whom the ample busts belonged – Carlo’s or her sisters. Only a few wondered if she was crazy to flash such erotica.
“My blog is called Carlo’s for a reason; it’s all about me, so I put up what I want,” she defended herself. “I put them [cleavage] there to attract attention as a light-hearted beginning of a week so we’re not totally focused on serious issues but can laugh sometimes and be ridiculous, you get?”
While it’s true it’s the blogger’s prerogative to fill their blogs with whatever material, those creating blogs are prompted to restrict their sites to invited readers or to put a disclaimer that the blog contains adult content. (Does you blog have a disclaimer that you are a Christian? Something that may offend strong Muslims or Atheists who would rather not read your blog? There is just so much that can be offensive and that is simply human. When you read and decide you are offended, you can always leave. You are not required to keep the page on your screen.)
From S.A.G.E’s understanding, bloggers are supposed to update their lives and voice their opinions on things they strongly feel about to provoke intellectually stimulating debate. (What is with all this intellectual bullshit? What I find intellectual might not be intellectual to you? For example, your failure at being an objective reporter have significantly reduced my view of your intelligence. Does that mean I should stop reading your blog or the Monitor for that matter?)
“But in Uganda, it’s more of who’s more dirty,” he says. “They are not going to be interested if you don’t tickle the bad boy and the bad girl in them; so girls talk about the first time they lost their virginity in the shower room, and boys about how sweet sex in the morgue is and everyone cheers and their egos are massaged. Their superficiality comes to the surface as they smite those that would rather tell them the truth than hype them.” (why is the only person you interview one who you know has the exact same views as you do? What is sad is I don’t have a degree in Mass Com and I would still have done a better job than you on this article.)
Journalist Rodney Muhumuza agrees. “We don’t seem to have a lot of reported blogs in Uganda, which is very disappointing. In America, bloggers investigate and conduct interviews to scoop The New York Times but most Ugandan bloggers that I know care about life at its most basic,” said Muhumuza, who writes The Kampala Review blog. “It’s more often about sex, sex and more sex. It’s hardly the stuff that will inspire a sober mind.” (OMG, do a google search on Ugandan blogs or visit Node Six’s new aggregator)
Could it be that they know they write banality that they hide under pseudonyms? Rather than heroes, you meet unrepentant cynics and provocateurs that spend a bulk of their time venting, fantasising and gibbering about trivialities with unflagging devotion. ( A blog is perhaps the one thing that truly upholds our freedom of speech. Why do you want to quell this? I have as much a right to vent and fantasise and work on my writing as you do to writing badly researched articles that appear in a National newspaper)
Writing about life in the Internet age, David Kaiza dramatically captured this in the June 30-July 6 issue of The EastAfrican by noting, “The culture (of blogging) puffs out like a hot air balloon; directionless and pointless.” (This definition if it applies to Ugandan blogs should also apply to blogs worldwide. Do you know how many blogs about celebrities and day to day happenings exist world wide? Do you even care?)
It is this lack of focus that has left Ugandan journalist and blogger Benon Herbert Oluka disappointed: “I would expect people to use their blogs to give more insight into everyday happenings because I tend to get hooked to thought-provoking articles than someone whose blog is about where they hang out last night and blah, blah, blah.” (When did this become the definition of a blog? WHEN?)
One of the most popular and respected Ugandan bloggers, 27th Comrade, thinks many Ugandan bloggers are “simply not interested in serious discourse; it’s not a bad thing; it’s just different.”
Flipping the other side of the coin, there are also purpose-driven bloggers, however few, that command the respect of the intelligent and educated alike. Tumwijuke of the Ugandan Insomniac blog is for example loved for her ability to “poke the social conscience of people”.
Writing with zing and flair, she has almost single-handedly cracked into the dominance of traditional media by arousing discussion on issues of national and global importance, for which she was in February this year voted Uganda’s best blogger by fellow “blogren”. For some however, the uniqueness of blogs is the greatest thing to happen online.
“Bloggers don’t have to follow conventional rules like the newspapers and that’s what I love most,” says Jared Ombui an avid reader of blogs. “Writing for them is a heart thing and often you find closet stories; the kind you will never see in our newspapers. I love that they are usually short and funny and also the comments from readers are hilarious.”
For blogger Denda, it’s the spirit of comradeship that he loves about blogging. “It’s like neighbours checking on each other,” he said. “I knock on your blog anytime and find out what’s going on in your ‘house’. During the Happy Hour we share ideas and swap books and meet some of the bloggers we love to read –that’s the whole beauty about blogging.”
It’s a positive sign especially in this era where blogs are increasingly being seen as points of reference. Already, there is a heated debate on the Internet that they will soon replace mainstream media which shows the power blogs possess.
Still, if the world’s best comic-strip artist was to invent something that best depicts the Ugandan blogging experience as whole, it would not be the kind patriots would like. It’s only after we have revolutionised the way we think and blog that people like Thomas Smyth will not leave the Happy Hour with inhibitions.
Dennis, I am quite disappointed in your reporting and not because you have touched on a subject close to my heart but because I expected more from you as a qualified journalist. Your article is one-sided, not well researched and what’s worse it really sounds like it. It does not sound professional at all but then again, how many articles in our papers do. It’s no wonder I only read feature articles. The reporters suck, the editors are letting this bad writing run in the papers because there is nothing better to run and the public is also settling or in my case reading news off the internet that is better written and better researched and more in-depth than what is run in our papers.
Probably what is irking me the most is, you won't take this criticism constructively and it will simply fuel another badly researched article on your part.
Friday, August 29, 2008
BHH Review
After putting up the kalango (DeT: announcement) for BHH on the actual day of the event (see how these days it's an event for me) I turn up at 7.00pm and I am the only one for a full half hour. B2B had kindly put up the kalango and I was starting to wonder if anyone read his blog. I was sure they did what with all the comments on that particular post but no one, not even he had showed up by the time Carlo arrived at about 7.45pm. The next guy to show up was Benge Solomon of Node Six and I was so excited to meet him because his aggregator, Blog Spirit, has become my be all and end all for Ugandan blogs. So he and Carlo exchanged cards and I simply received one of his cards. Solomon, I am waiting for my tracker. B2B then finally showed up with Channel in tow and she had a camera so there should be some pics up on her blog soon, I hope. Ivan was the next to show up looking all cleaned up with a new haircut bambi. Ivan, good luck with the interview. Eddslah showed up next with his trusty companion whose name I can never remember (I'm sorry) then Heaven came along looking all refreshed from all her time off and guess who came with? Her lover also called Peter oddly enough and finally BB, Channel's roomie who made an appearance last time also showed up this time. I'm not too sure about the order people came in though and I don't think it really matters. It was nice per the usual. (Why, you may ask yourself, is this one long paragraph? I don't know either)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Banange, nga you are lost on my eyes
My idiot brother had taken the laptop to school so I couldn't post anything yet I have been back from Sesse for 4 days now.
Anyway, in case you haven't already seen it on B2B's blog, BHH is tonight and we are back at Mateos. See you there.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Blog Action Day and going on holiday
I can't even remember the last time I had 2 posts up on the same day. I don't think it has ever happened. I guess we do something new everyday.
I am off to Ssesse tomorrow. (I have no idea how that is spelt, by the way. Is it Ssesse, Sesse, Ssese or Sese islands?) I do know that I won't be able to blog the whole weekend so I'll be seeing you again late on Sunday or Monday.
This post is basically to say I am going to be taking part in Blog Action Day '08 Poverty on October 15. Go on over to the site and register your blog. Your post could make a huge difference.
I am off to Ssesse tomorrow. (I have no idea how that is spelt, by the way. Is it Ssesse, Sesse, Ssese or Sese islands?) I do know that I won't be able to blog the whole weekend so I'll be seeing you again late on Sunday or Monday.
This post is basically to say I am going to be taking part in Blog Action Day '08 Poverty on October 15. Go on over to the site and register your blog. Your post could make a huge difference.
Randomsies
I don't believe I have ever done a randomsies post but being up at 8.30am with nothing to fill your days with kinda begs one of those posts.
First random thought
The chic in the David Guetta videos has got herself one sweet gig. David Guetta is a DJ and you know how they actually have videos for their songs these days and in all his videos, the main character is this chic, who I must say is very pretty. I just found out her name is Kelly Thiebaud. *hums* "what are we supposed to do, no use to deny this simple truth, now that the love is gone"
Second random thought
Chic in David Guetta's videos should be a gig on 'Do you want to become a celebrity' this game I am addicted to on facebook.
Third rt
I hate Madonna. Chic is 50 and fitter than I have ever been. Her time. What's even more annoying is I will sing along to every one of her songs anyway, the witch.
4th rt
There are some odd games in the Olympics. For starters, Water Polo which is basically hand ball in the water.
5th rt
There is an Olympian, one of the women gymnasts. Her name is Anastasia "Nastia" Liukin whose mother was a floor gymnast who competed in the Olympics and father was an athlete who competed in the Olympics and won Gold. Talk about destiny or maybe about creating Hybrids to win the gold.
6th rt
I like the way the icons for different sports at the Olympics look like Chinese symbols.
I am all out of thoughts... for now.
First random thought
The chic in the David Guetta videos has got herself one sweet gig. David Guetta is a DJ and you know how they actually have videos for their songs these days and in all his videos, the main character is this chic, who I must say is very pretty. I just found out her name is Kelly Thiebaud. *hums* "what are we supposed to do, no use to deny this simple truth, now that the love is gone"
Second random thought
Chic in David Guetta's videos should be a gig on 'Do you want to become a celebrity' this game I am addicted to on facebook.
Third rt
I hate Madonna. Chic is 50 and fitter than I have ever been. Her time. What's even more annoying is I will sing along to every one of her songs anyway, the witch.
4th rt
There are some odd games in the Olympics. For starters, Water Polo which is basically hand ball in the water.
5th rt
There is an Olympian, one of the women gymnasts. Her name is Anastasia "Nastia" Liukin whose mother was a floor gymnast who competed in the Olympics and father was an athlete who competed in the Olympics and won Gold. Talk about destiny or maybe about creating Hybrids to win the gold.
6th rt
I like the way the icons for different sports at the Olympics look like Chinese symbols.
I am all out of thoughts... for now.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Leave! Yay!
Hello y'all.
Now that I am on leave you should expect to see a lot more of me here. So, I've only been on leave for three days and counting but it is not as fun as I expected it would be. Being at home has prompted my mother to make me the maid and my mornings have been starting with me cleaning the house, making breakfast, having some breakfast and then making lunch. The whole time I have been sneaking in glimpses of the Olympics which I am enjoying immensely. It is truly something else to see what one can do with enough training and passion. These athletes are giving their all and it is very entertaining to watch and I personally am going to practise my synchronised swimming so I can rep. Ug in 2010 Britain. I'm going away on Friday so I'm psyched about that and also when I come back on Sunday I am going to our very own Skate Park to watch the competition. Come on down if you have a minute, all I know is that it is in Kitintale. I plan to ask for directions when I get there.
In other news, how have you all been?
Now that I am on leave you should expect to see a lot more of me here. So, I've only been on leave for three days and counting but it is not as fun as I expected it would be. Being at home has prompted my mother to make me the maid and my mornings have been starting with me cleaning the house, making breakfast, having some breakfast and then making lunch. The whole time I have been sneaking in glimpses of the Olympics which I am enjoying immensely. It is truly something else to see what one can do with enough training and passion. These athletes are giving their all and it is very entertaining to watch and I personally am going to practise my synchronised swimming so I can rep. Ug in 2010 Britain. I'm going away on Friday so I'm psyched about that and also when I come back on Sunday I am going to our very own Skate Park to watch the competition. Come on down if you have a minute, all I know is that it is in Kitintale. I plan to ask for directions when I get there.
In other news, how have you all been?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Wanted: The Abridged Script
Hey y'all.
I am in love with the website The Editing Room and it's editor Rod Hilton. The script below is for you.
By: Rod Hilton on Aug 5th, 2008 Movie Rating: 2.5 stars out of 5 stars
FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE
JAMES MCAVOY adds numbers using EXCEL and whines incessantly in voiceover.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
Hi. My name is James McAvoy. I’m a boring loser who has a full-time job, which apparently is beneath me even though everyone else has to do it without being a whiny little bitch.
(pause)
Oh look, here comes my obnoxious, cuckolding best friend. He epitomizes the exact type of macho idiot that enjoys movies like this one, so the fact that he’s portrayed as an asshole is something of an embarrassing irony.
CHRIS PRATT
Hey man! I just drank Red Bull out of your girlfriend’s vagina, it was awesome! So what’s going on with you?
JAMES MCAVOY
Nothing much. I was just searching for my own name in Google and getting no results.
CHRIS PRATT
No results at all? Like not even for any of the other thousands of people with the same name as you? “Johnny McSkidmarks” gives me three hits, and I just made that up.
JAMES MCAVOY
Yeah, I’m like a black hole of failure. I sure hope that it turns out I’m actually the heir to an ancient society that needs me so that I can leave this well-paying, white-collar, air-conditioned office job that most people would kill to have.
For the rest of the movie, FIGHT CLUB happens, but with BULLETS.
INT. CONVENIENCE STORE
JAMES purchases some anti-anxiety medication when suddenly he is approached by ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
James, it just so happens that your father was a member of a secret organization, which we will now make you a part of, just as soon as we have a poorly directed gunfight with Thomas Kretschmann, the guy who killed your dad.
JAMES MCAVOY
I want nothing to do with any of this.
(pause)
I’m ready now, when do I start killing people?
They shoot GUNS and discharge STYLE. Various amounts of BRAIN are splattered all over the camera lens.
JAMES MCAVOY
Holy shit, this movie is gratuitously violent. Did someone just take the screenplay to a porno and replace the words “cock” with “gun” and “semen” with “blood”?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Don’t be an idiot. There’s no way this movie had as much of a screenplay as your average porn.
They narrowly escape THOMAS KRETSCHMANN. ANGELIA JOLIE’S LIPS try to take JAMES to the SECRET SOCIETY HIDEOUT, but all of the studio’s sets are being used by better movies so they settle on an old TEXTILE MILL SET instead.
INT. TEXTILE MILL
JAMES meets MORGAN FREEMAN.
MORGAN FREEMAN
Let’s make this quick, I’ve got 20 minutes before I have to get back to the Dark Knight set.
JAMES MCAVOY
So, you’re a secret society of supervillians based on famous DC Comics rogues and you need me to help you in your nefarious plot to keep the world in a state of chaos and war?
MORGAN FREEMAN
What? No, you’re thinking of the comic book. We just kept the title and two character names from that best-selling piece of shit. We’re assassins that take lives in order to save thousands more.
JAMES MCAVOY
How do you decide who kill?
MORGAN FREEMAN
We have a Loom of Fate. It’s an actual Loom. And it encodes the names of our targets in binary when it stitches fabric. Seriously. This is actually in the movie.
JAMES MCAVOY
What the hell do you do when two people have the same name? And is every target in NY, or is that just luck?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Look, I gotta run. The deal is, you have the ability to accelerate your heart rate so that you can rape the laws of physics, curve bullets, jump 400 feet out of windows, flip cars, and even shoot the wings off of flies.
JAMES MCAVOY
Shoot the wings off of flies? Are action movies just running out of ways to outdo each other? Where else is there to go after shooting the wings off of flies? What’s the next preposterous action movie going to have, people shooting bullets into each other’s bullets?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Hey, good idea! You can do that with the heart rate thing too.
JAMES MCAVOY
Christ, at least Neo’s excuse was that he was inside the Matrix.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
We’re now going to train you to be an assassin by treating you like shit and beating the living snot out of you for no clear reason.
She DOES. Once the SECRET SOCIETY finishes beating JAMES within an inch of his life, he realizes they are his TRUE FRIENDS. They go ASSASSINATE random PEOPLE using SPECIAL EFFECTS.
JAMES MCAVOY
Cool! My increased heart rate has let me travel back in time to 1999 when stylized slow motion gunfights could pass for entertainment!
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
The Loom of Fate says it’s time for you to kill Thomas Kretschmann.
JAMES MCAVOY
Alright! Did I get any advice on ideal murder weapons from the Scarf of Doom?
ANGELINA and JAMES travel to find THOMAS on a TRAIN. They BATTLE and eventually JAMES shoots THOMAS.
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Everything they told you was a lie. I’m your father.
JAMES MCAVOY
Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that like a billion scenes ago?
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Because I only got paid for two speaking lines. Urk!
(dies)
JAMES travels back to the TEXTILE MILL to confront MORGAN FREEMAN.
JAMES MCAVOY
Thomas Darth Vadered me. Is he really my father?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Sure, I can make you a suit that lets you turn your head. Wait, what movie is this? Shit, I’m still in this thing? Somebody shoot this motherfucker!
JAMES MCAVOY
How sad is it that the most entertaining part of this movie is hearing wise old grandpa Morgan Freeman say the word ‘fuck’?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Hey, don’t forget about me showing my naked ass gratuitously.
They have a SHOOTOUT but MORGAN doesn’t die, so they have another SHOOTOUT where he DOES.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
…and that’s the story of how I brutally slaughtered a shitload of people, which prevented me from being a pussy like you. What the fuck have you done lately?
AUDIENCE
Um, you mean besides wasting 8 bucks watching Fight Club and The Matrix have a miscarriage together? Nothing, I guess.
END
I am in love with the website The Editing Room and it's editor Rod Hilton. The script below is for you.
By: Rod Hilton on Aug 5th, 2008 Movie Rating: 2.5 stars out of 5 stars
FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE
JAMES MCAVOY adds numbers using EXCEL and whines incessantly in voiceover.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
Hi. My name is James McAvoy. I’m a boring loser who has a full-time job, which apparently is beneath me even though everyone else has to do it without being a whiny little bitch.
(pause)
Oh look, here comes my obnoxious, cuckolding best friend. He epitomizes the exact type of macho idiot that enjoys movies like this one, so the fact that he’s portrayed as an asshole is something of an embarrassing irony.
CHRIS PRATT
Hey man! I just drank Red Bull out of your girlfriend’s vagina, it was awesome! So what’s going on with you?
JAMES MCAVOY
Nothing much. I was just searching for my own name in Google and getting no results.
CHRIS PRATT
No results at all? Like not even for any of the other thousands of people with the same name as you? “Johnny McSkidmarks” gives me three hits, and I just made that up.
JAMES MCAVOY
Yeah, I’m like a black hole of failure. I sure hope that it turns out I’m actually the heir to an ancient society that needs me so that I can leave this well-paying, white-collar, air-conditioned office job that most people would kill to have.
For the rest of the movie, FIGHT CLUB happens, but with BULLETS.
INT. CONVENIENCE STORE
JAMES purchases some anti-anxiety medication when suddenly he is approached by ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
James, it just so happens that your father was a member of a secret organization, which we will now make you a part of, just as soon as we have a poorly directed gunfight with Thomas Kretschmann, the guy who killed your dad.
JAMES MCAVOY
I want nothing to do with any of this.
(pause)
I’m ready now, when do I start killing people?
They shoot GUNS and discharge STYLE. Various amounts of BRAIN are splattered all over the camera lens.
JAMES MCAVOY
Holy shit, this movie is gratuitously violent. Did someone just take the screenplay to a porno and replace the words “cock” with “gun” and “semen” with “blood”?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Don’t be an idiot. There’s no way this movie had as much of a screenplay as your average porn.
They narrowly escape THOMAS KRETSCHMANN. ANGELIA JOLIE’S LIPS try to take JAMES to the SECRET SOCIETY HIDEOUT, but all of the studio’s sets are being used by better movies so they settle on an old TEXTILE MILL SET instead.
INT. TEXTILE MILL
JAMES meets MORGAN FREEMAN.
MORGAN FREEMAN
Let’s make this quick, I’ve got 20 minutes before I have to get back to the Dark Knight set.
JAMES MCAVOY
So, you’re a secret society of supervillians based on famous DC Comics rogues and you need me to help you in your nefarious plot to keep the world in a state of chaos and war?
MORGAN FREEMAN
What? No, you’re thinking of the comic book. We just kept the title and two character names from that best-selling piece of shit. We’re assassins that take lives in order to save thousands more.
JAMES MCAVOY
How do you decide who kill?
MORGAN FREEMAN
We have a Loom of Fate. It’s an actual Loom. And it encodes the names of our targets in binary when it stitches fabric. Seriously. This is actually in the movie.
JAMES MCAVOY
What the hell do you do when two people have the same name? And is every target in NY, or is that just luck?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Look, I gotta run. The deal is, you have the ability to accelerate your heart rate so that you can rape the laws of physics, curve bullets, jump 400 feet out of windows, flip cars, and even shoot the wings off of flies.
JAMES MCAVOY
Shoot the wings off of flies? Are action movies just running out of ways to outdo each other? Where else is there to go after shooting the wings off of flies? What’s the next preposterous action movie going to have, people shooting bullets into each other’s bullets?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Hey, good idea! You can do that with the heart rate thing too.
JAMES MCAVOY
Christ, at least Neo’s excuse was that he was inside the Matrix.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
We’re now going to train you to be an assassin by treating you like shit and beating the living snot out of you for no clear reason.
She DOES. Once the SECRET SOCIETY finishes beating JAMES within an inch of his life, he realizes they are his TRUE FRIENDS. They go ASSASSINATE random PEOPLE using SPECIAL EFFECTS.
JAMES MCAVOY
Cool! My increased heart rate has let me travel back in time to 1999 when stylized slow motion gunfights could pass for entertainment!
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
The Loom of Fate says it’s time for you to kill Thomas Kretschmann.
JAMES MCAVOY
Alright! Did I get any advice on ideal murder weapons from the Scarf of Doom?
ANGELINA and JAMES travel to find THOMAS on a TRAIN. They BATTLE and eventually JAMES shoots THOMAS.
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Everything they told you was a lie. I’m your father.
JAMES MCAVOY
Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that like a billion scenes ago?
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Because I only got paid for two speaking lines. Urk!
(dies)
JAMES travels back to the TEXTILE MILL to confront MORGAN FREEMAN.
JAMES MCAVOY
Thomas Darth Vadered me. Is he really my father?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Sure, I can make you a suit that lets you turn your head. Wait, what movie is this? Shit, I’m still in this thing? Somebody shoot this motherfucker!
JAMES MCAVOY
How sad is it that the most entertaining part of this movie is hearing wise old grandpa Morgan Freeman say the word ‘fuck’?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Hey, don’t forget about me showing my naked ass gratuitously.
They have a SHOOTOUT but MORGAN doesn’t die, so they have another SHOOTOUT where he DOES.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
…and that’s the story of how I brutally slaughtered a shitload of people, which prevented me from being a pussy like you. What the fuck have you done lately?
AUDIENCE
Um, you mean besides wasting 8 bucks watching Fight Club and The Matrix have a miscarriage together? Nothing, I guess.
END
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Yet another BHH
First a nice picture.
But I am so ashamed to be the one beats the kalango for BHH when I barely pass for a blogger myself but what can I say? I am uninspired but not unhappy which is not the best state for writing. I just finished reading What is the What - Dave Eggers and Purple Hibiscus- Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and am now reading The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency - Alexander Mccall Smith and all these reviews will be up at some point this year.Anyway, BHH this time round is at Efendy's on Thursday the 31st of July, 2008 at 6.30pm. I really hope you guys read this and show up.
Friday, June 27, 2008
BHH
Bhh was the bomb. (Do people still say that?) There were so many people, a couple or two of new faces and some old faces which hadn't been in a while.
I wasn't the first one there this time but I was the first one to sit down. I was quickly joined by Kissyfur (so sorry about not carrying your book, btw) and then Princess and Jazz figured we were there for BHH and joined us. Kissyfur asked the waiter if he was there for BHH too, probably because she was expecting more new people to turn up. Phantom was there for a hot minute (one must live up to his name) and had to leave early because he lives very far away...in Entebbe! Rev walked in looking a little out of it, what with his hair heading every which way. B2B walked in and then everyone kind of flooded in.
Blogroll..........
Kissyfur
Phantom
Rev
B2B
Antipop
Heaven
Princess
Jazz
Eddsla
Dante
Carlo
Duksey
Chanel
Ink
So much was talked about, where to begin (that isn't a question.) We did briefly discuss the issue of moving the venue and the only suggestion was Steak Out. What do y'all who weren't there think? Thursday at Steak Out? Also there was talk of a Beach Bash. Do comment and let's decide.
For the pics, facebook me.
I wasn't the first one there this time but I was the first one to sit down. I was quickly joined by Kissyfur (so sorry about not carrying your book, btw) and then Princess and Jazz figured we were there for BHH and joined us. Kissyfur asked the waiter if he was there for BHH too, probably because she was expecting more new people to turn up. Phantom was there for a hot minute (one must live up to his name) and had to leave early because he lives very far away...in Entebbe! Rev walked in looking a little out of it, what with his hair heading every which way. B2B walked in and then everyone kind of flooded in.
Blogroll..........
Kissyfur
Phantom
Rev
B2B
Antipop
Heaven
Princess
Jazz
Eddsla
Dante
Carlo
Duksey
Chanel
Ink
So much was talked about, where to begin (that isn't a question.) We did briefly discuss the issue of moving the venue and the only suggestion was Steak Out. What do y'all who weren't there think? Thursday at Steak Out? Also there was talk of a Beach Bash. Do comment and let's decide.
For the pics, facebook me.
Monday, June 23, 2008
BHH
Bloggers' Happy Hour is on Thursday 26th June, 2008 at Mateos at 6.30pm for lack of suggestions. Do make it.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
While I Was Away
Hey y'all. I know I have been gone a while and I will be gone a while more but in the meantime;
Kale that is a place in Kampala. Hot, crowded, smoggy Kampala has such a serene looking spot. I wouldn't mind walking up that drive way everyday after a hard day's work.
Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me remember the artists name but I think it is Peter or Paul or something with a P from the Bible. I love these, he calls it Tile Art and he shows at Iguana and there is a nice little corner in Woodpecker that is dedicated to his art. You should have a cup of coffee there if you are in Ntinda.
And that is of course my lover who has an aversion to shirts as you can see but whom I love regardless.
Kale that is a place in Kampala. Hot, crowded, smoggy Kampala has such a serene looking spot. I wouldn't mind walking up that drive way everyday after a hard day's work.
Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me remember the artists name but I think it is Peter or Paul or something with a P from the Bible. I love these, he calls it Tile Art and he shows at Iguana and there is a nice little corner in Woodpecker that is dedicated to his art. You should have a cup of coffee there if you are in Ntinda.
And that is of course my lover who has an aversion to shirts as you can see but whom I love regardless.I know the resolution of the pictures sucks but blame my phone not my unsteady hands.
Friday, May 30, 2008
BHH review
I'm doing a review this time because Carlo said she was bored by her last one and might not do this one. (I am absolutely sure it is a gazillion times better than the one I am about to do)
I'll start at the beginning.
6.30pm found me there already, as always, with my new book in tow and a cup of coffee in front of me. Donald, a friend of mine, was walking by and I roped him in. He said he would be there only a few minutes although he ended up staying the whole time, either that says we were too interesting for him to tear himself away or we were too weird for him to tear himself away. Miss Tandra was next and I was shocked that someone other than Carlo was the second one there. Guess Tandra wants firsties in real life as well. Not to fear though Carlo was hot on her heels and already before 7.00pm we were already filling a table.
The order in which everyone came after that is a bit messed up in my head so I'm simply going to put down the blogroll of the attendees.
B2B
Carlo
Dante
Donald
Heaven
Lucy
Minega
Raymond
Rev
Robin
Tandra
Did I stutter? You read right, Minega was there, all the way from Rwanda! The rest of you who weren't simply have no excuse.
It was so much fun. Robin, Raymond and Minega were the new guys. It was an evening filled with laughter. We talked about Carlo's breeze, Mrs. B2B and how she needs to turn up, women hiring working girls for their annual fix, getting poked with alcohol and the state of Afghanistan as described in The Kite Runner which had me bawling by the way. Dante was disappointed that anitpop didn't turn up but Heaven showing kinda made up for it.
We then headed for rock night, where I was mistaken for a first year and Heaven was mercilessly hit on by some guy, and were there for like a minute at which point we went home and promised we would turn up next month to do it all over again.
And now it is over (the review, I mean) and I must go back to work.
I'll start at the beginning.
6.30pm found me there already, as always, with my new book in tow and a cup of coffee in front of me. Donald, a friend of mine, was walking by and I roped him in. He said he would be there only a few minutes although he ended up staying the whole time, either that says we were too interesting for him to tear himself away or we were too weird for him to tear himself away. Miss Tandra was next and I was shocked that someone other than Carlo was the second one there. Guess Tandra wants firsties in real life as well. Not to fear though Carlo was hot on her heels and already before 7.00pm we were already filling a table.
The order in which everyone came after that is a bit messed up in my head so I'm simply going to put down the blogroll of the attendees.
B2B
Carlo
Dante
Donald
Heaven
Lucy
Minega
Raymond
Rev
Robin
Tandra
Did I stutter? You read right, Minega was there, all the way from Rwanda! The rest of you who weren't simply have no excuse.
It was so much fun. Robin, Raymond and Minega were the new guys. It was an evening filled with laughter. We talked about Carlo's breeze, Mrs. B2B and how she needs to turn up, women hiring working girls for their annual fix, getting poked with alcohol and the state of Afghanistan as described in The Kite Runner which had me bawling by the way. Dante was disappointed that anitpop didn't turn up but Heaven showing kinda made up for it.
We then headed for rock night, where I was mistaken for a first year and Heaven was mercilessly hit on by some guy, and were there for like a minute at which point we went home and promised we would turn up next month to do it all over again.
And now it is over (the review, I mean) and I must go back to work.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
A Tale of Two Cities
“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”
That is how one of the best ever written books ends. If you haven’t read ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ yet, pick it up immediately. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. When I started it, I was afraid that I wouldn’t get it of fail to see what everyone went on about and it was a difficult first few pages but then Dickens describes a scene where wine spills on the cobbled streets of France and from then on I was taken in and there was no turning back.
Dickens has a mastery of the English language that is unequalled. He uses even the simplest words, sentences to take any kind of reader on his journey with him. There is no embellishment, the imagery is vivid because he wields his words like a painter would his brush and actually paints you the picture so beautifully and flawlessly that there is no chance you won’t want to go with him. Open any random page of this book and you will see what I mean.
“If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned the love of the man you see before you – self-flung away, wasted, drunken, poor creature of misuse as you know him to be – he would have been conscious this day and hour in spite of his happiness, that he would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you, disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you can have no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it cannot be.”
Dickens continues to be excellent in the way he connects everything so seamlessly. It might be a tale of two cities but it is basically a tale of one group of people. Everyone you meet in the book is indispensable and somehow connected; there is not one wasted character. Watching the way he weaves the story is breath taking and as you read the excitement mounts as you guess at what might happen, where it might be going and then as you see where it actually goes and how he gets you there, this book is pure genius.
And I haven’t even talked about the plot yet. (I should warn you, there are spoilers ahead.) The book is set in 1775, at the time of the French Revolution. The French people had been oppressed for so long by their monarchy and their church and if there is a story that advocates for the separation of state and church this is it. The people were forced to tend land off of which they could not sustain themselves.
“…in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were said, for the popular revulsion had even traveled that length of self-destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates…”
“Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, which was, to let everything go on its own way; of particular public business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go his way – tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general and particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the world was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: ‘The Earth and the fullness thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur.”
They paid incredibly high rent and were in turn paid nothing for the work they did and the food they grew was taken by the richer nobles who owned the land they lived on.
“Doctor, they are very proud these nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes.”
“We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those superior beings – taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and shutters closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us – I say, we were so robbed, hunted and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should pray for was that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!”
“You know, Doctor, that it is among the rights of these nobles to harness us common dogs to carts and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed – if he could find food – he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.”
The suffering of the people is evident and the revolution is inevitable but the scale of it is unbelievable. The people and been dehumanized to the extent that taking a life of anyone of noble status and anyone connected with any such person was incredibly easy.
“I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?”
“It was nothing to her that an innocent man was to die for the sins of his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her that his wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was insufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and her prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her was made hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been ordered to the axe tomorrow, would she have gone to it with any softer feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent her there.”
But more than all of this, it is a story about love; the love of a father for his daughter and of his daughter for him, the love of a husband and a wife which takes them through births, deaths, two possible executions and dark secrets, the love of a man for a woman who can never love him back and most of all the love of freedom, of liberty, of equality and of fraternity.
I will say again, if you haven’t yet read this book, buy it, borrow my copy but whatever you do, read it.
That is how one of the best ever written books ends. If you haven’t read ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ yet, pick it up immediately. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. When I started it, I was afraid that I wouldn’t get it of fail to see what everyone went on about and it was a difficult first few pages but then Dickens describes a scene where wine spills on the cobbled streets of France and from then on I was taken in and there was no turning back.
Dickens has a mastery of the English language that is unequalled. He uses even the simplest words, sentences to take any kind of reader on his journey with him. There is no embellishment, the imagery is vivid because he wields his words like a painter would his brush and actually paints you the picture so beautifully and flawlessly that there is no chance you won’t want to go with him. Open any random page of this book and you will see what I mean.
“If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned the love of the man you see before you – self-flung away, wasted, drunken, poor creature of misuse as you know him to be – he would have been conscious this day and hour in spite of his happiness, that he would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you, disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you can have no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it cannot be.”
Dickens continues to be excellent in the way he connects everything so seamlessly. It might be a tale of two cities but it is basically a tale of one group of people. Everyone you meet in the book is indispensable and somehow connected; there is not one wasted character. Watching the way he weaves the story is breath taking and as you read the excitement mounts as you guess at what might happen, where it might be going and then as you see where it actually goes and how he gets you there, this book is pure genius.
And I haven’t even talked about the plot yet. (I should warn you, there are spoilers ahead.) The book is set in 1775, at the time of the French Revolution. The French people had been oppressed for so long by their monarchy and their church and if there is a story that advocates for the separation of state and church this is it. The people were forced to tend land off of which they could not sustain themselves.
“…in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were said, for the popular revulsion had even traveled that length of self-destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates…”
“Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, which was, to let everything go on its own way; of particular public business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go his way – tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general and particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the world was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: ‘The Earth and the fullness thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur.”
They paid incredibly high rent and were in turn paid nothing for the work they did and the food they grew was taken by the richer nobles who owned the land they lived on.
“Doctor, they are very proud these nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes.”
“We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those superior beings – taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and shutters closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us – I say, we were so robbed, hunted and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should pray for was that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!”
“You know, Doctor, that it is among the rights of these nobles to harness us common dogs to carts and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed – if he could find food – he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.”
The suffering of the people is evident and the revolution is inevitable but the scale of it is unbelievable. The people and been dehumanized to the extent that taking a life of anyone of noble status and anyone connected with any such person was incredibly easy.
“I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?”
“It was nothing to her that an innocent man was to die for the sins of his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her that his wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was insufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and her prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her was made hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been ordered to the axe tomorrow, would she have gone to it with any softer feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent her there.”
But more than all of this, it is a story about love; the love of a father for his daughter and of his daughter for him, the love of a husband and a wife which takes them through births, deaths, two possible executions and dark secrets, the love of a man for a woman who can never love him back and most of all the love of freedom, of liberty, of equality and of fraternity.
I will say again, if you haven’t yet read this book, buy it, borrow my copy but whatever you do, read it.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Bed of Roses
Bed Of Roses
Sitting here wasted and wounded
At this old piano
Trying hard to capture
The moment this morning I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka
Is still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think that she's still in my bed
As I dream about movies
They won't make of me when I'm dead
With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps
Its own beat in my head
While we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and
What you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
Well I'm so far away
That each step that I take is on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes I'd given each night
Just to see through this payphone
Still I run out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you
I'll just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is true
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
The hotel bar hangover whiskey's gone dry
The barkeeper's wig's crooked
And she's giving me the eye
I might have said yeah
But I laughed so hard I think I died
Now as you close your eyes
Know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely
I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
This was the first rock song I ever heard. I remember it like it was yesterday, it was actually 1993. The video was on TV and I was in the room and this song comes on and I knew immediately that I would forever love this man's voice. I went to the living to watch the video and it kinda helped that Bon Jovi is pretty good looking. Seriously though, it just spoke to me and took me with it. I remember simply standing in front of the Tv 'til it ended and there was no turning back. I have been a rock fan since and I have loved Bon Jovi from that day. My favourite line is "A king ransom's in dime I'd give each night to see through this pay phone"
Do you remember the song that did it for you?
Sitting here wasted and wounded
At this old piano
Trying hard to capture
The moment this morning I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka
Is still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think that she's still in my bed
As I dream about movies
They won't make of me when I'm dead
With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps
Its own beat in my head
While we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and
What you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
Well I'm so far away
That each step that I take is on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes I'd given each night
Just to see through this payphone
Still I run out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you
I'll just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is true
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
The hotel bar hangover whiskey's gone dry
The barkeeper's wig's crooked
And she's giving me the eye
I might have said yeah
But I laughed so hard I think I died
Now as you close your eyes
Know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely
I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
This was the first rock song I ever heard. I remember it like it was yesterday, it was actually 1993. The video was on TV and I was in the room and this song comes on and I knew immediately that I would forever love this man's voice. I went to the living to watch the video and it kinda helped that Bon Jovi is pretty good looking. Seriously though, it just spoke to me and took me with it. I remember simply standing in front of the Tv 'til it ended and there was no turning back. I have been a rock fan since and I have loved Bon Jovi from that day. My favourite line is "A king ransom's in dime I'd give each night to see through this pay phone"
Do you remember the song that did it for you?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Finally getting around to answering the Tag
Four Jobs I Have Worked
- Personal Assistant for a Proffessor in the History Dept. of MUK
- Hostess for an Events Organiser
- Personal Assistant for the Plant Manager of SBI
- Call Centre Agent for UTL
Four Movies I Would Watch Over and Over
- Fight Club
- How to Kill Your Neighbour's Dog
- Interstate 60
- Usual Suspects
Four Places I Have Lived
- Somewhere in Buganda Road till I was 2 years old
- Bukoto from then till I was 22
- A hall on campus (does that count?)
- Semawata Road in Ntinda.
Four TV Shows I love
- 30 Rock
- Friends
- House
- How I Met Your Mother
- Scrubs
- CSI (all of them)
Four Places I Have Been On Vacation
- Ndaija, Rwampara, Mbarara
- Rugoma, Kebisoni, Rukungiri
- Ssese Islands
- Jinja
Four of My Favourite Foods
- Sweet Potatoes and Eshabwe
- Stir Fried Pork and Xiangzhou rice
- Club Sandwich
- Bagel Sandwich with Egg Salad
Four Places I Would Rather Be Now
- In bed
- In a swimming pool
- On the set of 30 Rock
- In South Africa watching my best friend graduate
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Wonder Years.
Two days later and I have already finished 'The Family Way' and dearly paying for it. Why, you might ask. I'll tell you. I was up till 2.00am last night reading it and I had to be up by 4.00am because I had to be in the office by 5.00am. Just know I am dying of sleep, I have no idea how I am going to make it through the rest of the day.
You know what killed me about these photos? The 'fros. They were awesome weren't they?
In other news, I found some old baby pictures of myself and I really wanted to put them up but we have no scanner or if we do, I have never seen it so I did the next best thing and took pictures of the pictures. Wasn't I the cutest?
You know what killed me about these photos? The 'fros. They were awesome weren't they?I love the way my mother looks all regal with her head held up high and I just look confused. I remember I loved that outfit and only finally gave it away when I was 16 or so.
What can I say? The 80's were not the best time for high fashion. That's my dad, by the way, in the Malaachi (the shoes) he loved so and made us where for about 3 years of our lives. (My siblings and I.)
Another confused looking picture of me. I really wonder what it was I was staring at? Was I attracted to the camera from so young an age?
This is my favourite. I'm positive my Mom was off to the side making sure my head was turned to the camera by dangling some shiny something. I can almost remember it.
I thought these would be apt seeing as its my birthday on Thursday. Send me hugs and presents on Facebook.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
African Reading Challenge
I said I would enter the reading challenge and I have but I don't have a list of books. I have decided to read the books then add them to the list.
I just finished A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah and like he said it is worth the read. It is told in a very matter of fact way, no embellishments, no style but it gets the message across. I don't know if I would have been able to read it if it hadn't been written like it is. It is a harrowing story, a 12 year old boy slitting someone's throat with a bayonet is hard enough to comprehend without it being written in language that evokes the images vividly, so I am kind of glad it is not very well written. It is a very sad reality where these boys are taken from their families and recruited into the army (the army, not the rebel forces, the bloody army.) I am inspired to find out more.
Read this but I emaphasize, the writing is lacklustre at best.
I am going to take a break now and read the only Tony Parson's book I haven't yet read, The Family Way.
I just finished A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah and like he said it is worth the read. It is told in a very matter of fact way, no embellishments, no style but it gets the message across. I don't know if I would have been able to read it if it hadn't been written like it is. It is a harrowing story, a 12 year old boy slitting someone's throat with a bayonet is hard enough to comprehend without it being written in language that evokes the images vividly, so I am kind of glad it is not very well written. It is a very sad reality where these boys are taken from their families and recruited into the army (the army, not the rebel forces, the bloody army.) I am inspired to find out more.
Read this but I emaphasize, the writing is lacklustre at best.
I am going to take a break now and read the only Tony Parson's book I haven't yet read, The Family Way.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Snooze: A work story
You all know I work in a call centre for a telecommunications company that will remain unnamed, right? You also probably know that we hear some of the funniest things.
Some guy called in and talked to someone else but this story was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I will write it out in Luganda and translate it after.
(phone rings)
Agent: Good morning, (agent) speaking, how can I help you?
Sub: Gyebale ko nyabo. Nafunye mu obuzibu zibu mu ssimu yange. Osobola kunyamba ko?
Agent: Buzibu ki Ssebo?
Sub: Waliwo ennamba enkubila bulikanaku ku sawa zezimu naye essimu bwenjikwata, omuntu tayogela. Ono'musajja asumbwa nyo. Anzukusa ku sawa kuminabili ate natayogela kintu kyona. Nina kyensobola okukola o'kyilekelawo?
Agent: Ssebo, eyo nambe ki?
Sub: Enamba sijilaba, naye elinya ndilaba.
Agent: Bwoba olaba elinya, kitageza nti enamba mweli mu ssimu yo.
Sub: Neda, enambe telimu, najinonyeza nga sijilaba
Agent: Kale, mbulila elinya
Sub: Bamuyita SNOOZE!
Translation.
(phone rings)
Agent: Good morning, (agent) speaking, how may I help you?
Sub: Good morning. I am having a problem with my phone, can you help me?
Agent: What is the problem, sir?
Sub: There is a number that keeps calling me but when I pick the phone up no one speaks. It calls me everyday at the same time and it is getting very annoying. It calls at 6.00am and wakes me up and this person does not answer me, is there anyway I can stop this?
Agent: What is the number?
Sub: I don't know the number but I know the name. It shows on my phone.
Agent: If you see the name, that must mean the number is in your phone.
Sub: The number is not in my phone, I checked and it is not there.
Agent: Ok, tell me the name you see.
Sub: That person is called SNOOZE!
Some guy called in and talked to someone else but this story was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I will write it out in Luganda and translate it after.
(phone rings)
Agent: Good morning, (agent) speaking, how can I help you?
Sub: Gyebale ko nyabo. Nafunye mu obuzibu zibu mu ssimu yange. Osobola kunyamba ko?
Agent: Buzibu ki Ssebo?
Sub: Waliwo ennamba enkubila bulikanaku ku sawa zezimu naye essimu bwenjikwata, omuntu tayogela. Ono'musajja asumbwa nyo. Anzukusa ku sawa kuminabili ate natayogela kintu kyona. Nina kyensobola okukola o'kyilekelawo?
Agent: Ssebo, eyo nambe ki?
Sub: Enamba sijilaba, naye elinya ndilaba.
Agent: Bwoba olaba elinya, kitageza nti enamba mweli mu ssimu yo.
Sub: Neda, enambe telimu, najinonyeza nga sijilaba
Agent: Kale, mbulila elinya
Sub: Bamuyita SNOOZE!
Translation.
(phone rings)
Agent: Good morning, (agent) speaking, how may I help you?
Sub: Good morning. I am having a problem with my phone, can you help me?
Agent: What is the problem, sir?
Sub: There is a number that keeps calling me but when I pick the phone up no one speaks. It calls me everyday at the same time and it is getting very annoying. It calls at 6.00am and wakes me up and this person does not answer me, is there anyway I can stop this?
Agent: What is the number?
Sub: I don't know the number but I know the name. It shows on my phone.
Agent: If you see the name, that must mean the number is in your phone.
Sub: The number is not in my phone, I checked and it is not there.
Agent: Ok, tell me the name you see.
Sub: That person is called SNOOZE!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Love
Love
Love will come find you
Just to remind you
Of who you are
Hold on
It will forsake you
Threaten to break you
Take what you got
Everybody laughs
Everybody cries
Sure it could hurt you baby
But give it a lil try
See that's the thing about love
Friends
Sometimes will blind you
Sneak up behind you
You cant give enough
Then life
It will embrace you
Totally amaze you
So you don't give up
Everybody laughs
Everybody cries
Sure it could hurt you baby
But give it a lil try
See that's the thing about love
Don't tell me that I’m not the only that's going thru it all
Ohhh sometimes I feel like I’m the only that's going thru it all
But its time
Oh its time
For me to shine
HeyIts my time
Oh its time
For me to shine
Its my time
Said its my time
For me to shine
Its my time
Its bout time
For me to shine
Everybody laughs
Everybody cries
Sure it could hurt u baby
But give it a lil try
That's the thing about love
That's the thing about love
That's the thing about
That's the thing about love
**Lyrics The Thing About Love - Alicia Keys
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Billy Blues
I had been to Billy Blues before it was cool and the only cool thing about it then was the pictures they had up of Blues legends like Elvis (does he count?) and other greats whose names I can't remember right now. Other than that, it (excuse the terrible pun) gave me the blues so I decided not to go back until recently it was all I could hear about from my more outgoing family and friends (read my younger sisters, all my friends these days are old.)
Eventually, on Friday, I ended up there after a fun filled night. (I only got two pics so deal with it.) First I went to Carlo's and then we went to Arirang (where the pictures were taken) with Brenda (Chan, jealous much?) and Bren's family and friends.
Eventually, on Friday, I ended up there after a fun filled night. (I only got two pics so deal with it.) First I went to Carlo's and then we went to Arirang (where the pictures were taken) with Brenda (Chan, jealous much?) and Bren's family and friends.
We then went to the Pyramids casino and I am now seriously berating myself for not taking any pictures because y'all need to see this casino. It is tiny and the minute you walk in, you feel like you have entered one of those Mob-movies and you start looking for the Italians. You know those basement-shit-load-of-money-buy-in for only certain people, that's what it feels like except it's well lit.
We then headed to Mayfair Casino which looks nice (again, what was I thinking and where was my camera except for on my phone?) It looks and feels like a train terminal complete with ticket booths and the announcer on the speaker thingies (in this case announcing Bingo numbers.) What I didn't like was that on the slot machines, there was no noise from the coins clanging onto the tray because you don't get coins. You sit on the machine and the man with the key comes and puts for you the amount of money you want to spend and when you're done he comes back and pays you in cash, no clanky coins in this train terminal.
We decide to leave and go to Billy Blues after I was up 10,000 and Carlo was up 20,000. We walk down to get a cab and I see this (I remembered I had a camera for this.) I was so amused but it makes sense, no? I guess this guy doesn't want to have to carry this stool home everyday but would also not like to see it stolen. It's things like these that make me love walking around at night.
So, we get to Billy Blues and its like I am seeing my long lost relatives. You know those friends you make at the bar and you only ever see at the bar? I had so many of those friends, let's face it, I used to go out quite a bit. Anyway, Friday was a chance to catch up. I saw so many people I hadn't seen in forever and we talked about everything from the race for the US Democrat candidate to the credit crash in the UK to what all this has to do with China. It was a really fun night but I am not planning to do it agan anytime soon. I was tired, the music was loud, along with the people I was glad to see, there were like 3 fold those I didn't and I can't think of the other thing but it was there.
All in all, fun night, not doing it again soon.
We then headed to Mayfair Casino which looks nice (again, what was I thinking and where was my camera except for on my phone?) It looks and feels like a train terminal complete with ticket booths and the announcer on the speaker thingies (in this case announcing Bingo numbers.) What I didn't like was that on the slot machines, there was no noise from the coins clanging onto the tray because you don't get coins. You sit on the machine and the man with the key comes and puts for you the amount of money you want to spend and when you're done he comes back and pays you in cash, no clanky coins in this train terminal.
We decide to leave and go to Billy Blues after I was up 10,000 and Carlo was up 20,000. We walk down to get a cab and I see this (I remembered I had a camera for this.) I was so amused but it makes sense, no? I guess this guy doesn't want to have to carry this stool home everyday but would also not like to see it stolen. It's things like these that make me love walking around at night.
So, we get to Billy Blues and its like I am seeing my long lost relatives. You know those friends you make at the bar and you only ever see at the bar? I had so many of those friends, let's face it, I used to go out quite a bit. Anyway, Friday was a chance to catch up. I saw so many people I hadn't seen in forever and we talked about everything from the race for the US Democrat candidate to the credit crash in the UK to what all this has to do with China. It was a really fun night but I am not planning to do it agan anytime soon. I was tired, the music was loud, along with the people I was glad to see, there were like 3 fold those I didn't and I can't think of the other thing but it was there.All in all, fun night, not doing it again soon.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Two Words : Hot Steps
Have you seen that show? It is the most hilarious thing ever to come out of Uganda. For those of you not in the know, Hot Steps is a TV show much in the vein of Pop Idol and Star Search except they are looking for dancers. If that premise isn't funny enough for you, imagine please, the way people suck at singing in the first episodes of such shows, imagine how much funnier dancing would be. It doesn't disappoint, it is hilarious. People are either delusional or blind, nothing else explains their willingness to completely embarrass themselves on national TV.
The judges are Ronnie of Obsessions and Michael, formerly of Obsessions, now of Kombat. Michael seems to be trying really hard to be mean but the looks on Ronnie's face. I suggest that at the end of each show, there be a montage of the looks on Ronnie's face because they are priceless.
Back to the dancers. On Thursday's show, there was a contestant called Pophia and there is no way I can tell it to make as funny as it was. She is rod-thin with absolutely no ass to speak of but she kept turning her back to the judges and tapping the top of her thighs (read ass) and the judges were cracking up because she had this come hither look on her face that frankly was very scary. This was in Entebbe.
The show in Jinja has this 4o-something old man decided to show case his lingala skills and what ensued looked like a middle aged chicken on speed.
I am out of time so my parting words are, try to catch this on NTV on Thursday sometime after 8.00pm.
The judges are Ronnie of Obsessions and Michael, formerly of Obsessions, now of Kombat. Michael seems to be trying really hard to be mean but the looks on Ronnie's face. I suggest that at the end of each show, there be a montage of the looks on Ronnie's face because they are priceless.
Back to the dancers. On Thursday's show, there was a contestant called Pophia and there is no way I can tell it to make as funny as it was. She is rod-thin with absolutely no ass to speak of but she kept turning her back to the judges and tapping the top of her thighs (read ass) and the judges were cracking up because she had this come hither look on her face that frankly was very scary. This was in Entebbe.
The show in Jinja has this 4o-something old man decided to show case his lingala skills and what ensued looked like a middle aged chicken on speed.
I am out of time so my parting words are, try to catch this on NTV on Thursday sometime after 8.00pm.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Weekday Blogging, Haarnk, Haarnk
I have noticed that very few of you blog on weekends. Go ahead, report yourselves, it's because you be abusing your office internet, right? Honestly, who am I to speak? I only blog on Sunday because I work on Sunday.
So, I was at Nandos at around 11.30pm last night and I ran into an old teacher of mine. After saying hello and all, he says to me, "What are you doing out at this time? Where is your gate pass?" Talk about a Haarnk Haarnk moment.
I thought I would put up a picture of me with the weight I have gained. This was taken at the end of our Customer Appreciation Week. We had to go to work dressed in traditional attire and I picked a Sari. I like it, so what do you think. Does it make me look fat?
As is evident, I have nothing to say. Nothing at all. I'll take my leave now.
Bye my friends.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tagistis.
The disease is back and I have been tagged and tagged and tagged again. There is something about rules but that will come later. As of now, I will regale you once again with tales of myself or better yet 6 random facts you may or may not know about me.
Let's see:
First:
I am increasing in girth and as such have been mistaken for pregnant by many people. It all started when my sister told me she had heard at school that I had given birth, of course she knew it was bull because she lives with me but the people at her school, my old one, were convinced. Then I was out one night and some guy I went to school with very briefly was standing with me at a bar and he tells me congratulations while staring at my belly, I corrected him obviously but was not very happy about it and then the last straw was when last week my very good friend whom I hadn't seen in a while calls me. I will transcribe part of the conversation below.
Let's see:
First:
I am increasing in girth and as such have been mistaken for pregnant by many people. It all started when my sister told me she had heard at school that I had given birth, of course she knew it was bull because she lives with me but the people at her school, my old one, were convinced. Then I was out one night and some guy I went to school with very briefly was standing with me at a bar and he tells me congratulations while staring at my belly, I corrected him obviously but was not very happy about it and then the last straw was when last week my very good friend whom I hadn't seen in a while calls me. I will transcribe part of the conversation below.
Her: Is there something you want to say before I quarrel?
Me: Uhh, I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about?
Her: Should I be congratulating you?
Me: On my not so recent promotion at work?
Her: No, on your five months pregnancy
Me: WHAT???!!!!!!
Her: I just heard that you were with child. I was berated for being a bad friend for not knowing.
Suffice it to say I was shocked, I knew I was growing a potbelly but I had no idea it was this bad. So I have embarked (in my mind) on a rigorous diet to reverse these effects.
Second:
I have a very strange relationship with my period. I can't stand it, I hate being in so much pain with nothing I can do about it. I hate the fact of it, the way it makes me feel eugh and the way I have been having it every month since I was 10. On the other hand, I am so freaked when it is even one day late, even when I have no reason to be afraid, I can barely sleep for worry. Talk about love-hate.
Three:
I found out two days ago that I like Jazz. How crazy is that? I have always been firm in my dislike for jazz mainly because people who do like jazz are music snobs and also I'm just not that into it, or so I thought until I found out that Big Band and Swing which I love are actually categorized as Jazz and so now I grudgingly admit that I do like Jazz although I am quick to add exactly what I mean by that.
Four:
You know how you create labels for your posts, I didn't think I would ever need to use the labels on this post again but I guess I was wrong as I (rarely) am sometimes. I just had that random thought and decided to include it in here since I am struggling with things to write.
Five:
Almost done. I like taking pictures. Not only of myself but of everything as is evidenced in my previous post with the pictures of sidewalks and stuff. I can't wait to own my own camera which I am in the process of acquiring. I do feel for all of you whom I will subject to my pictures all the time, it will be my artistic outlet.
Six:
I have girl crushes. Do the rest of you girls? I just know some women I would just love to be or have been. Like, they're all independent and smart and funny and have their own individual sense of style and I hope that is how I come off. You hope you are looking into a mirror when you see them or are with them.
I hereby tag Tumwi, Kissyfur, Duksey, Dante, Inktus and B2B.
If you've been tagged before, tough shit.
Oh! Rules;
Link back to your tagger.
Post these rules in your submission.
Share six things/habits/quirks/whatever about you in your submission.
Tag six [random] people at the end of it.
Tell each taggee via comments that he/she done been tagged.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Shutter Happy
Don't ask me why there is a blow dryer in the living room.
Mbu, I was sleeping, safely tucked under my mosquio net.
This is the book I am reading now, Hippopotamus by Stephen Fry. This page is of no particular importance, just happened to be the one I was on when I decided to take the pic.
I like this picture, the sidewalk just looked so pretty with the shadow of the tree and everything.
I liked it so much, I took it twice.Friday, February 15, 2008
The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born
This is my attempt at a proper book review.
This book is beautiful, I realize I say that about a lot of books but I mean it all the time. There is something about books where the protagonist remains unnamed; there is a way one relates to characters that are nameless that is different from those that are named. You don’t assume anything and every little description helps you form an opinion as to what kind of person this character is.
The main character in this book, the man as he is referred to, is trying not to be corrupt in a country riddled with corruption. His family chastises him for not wanting to advance and make them happy when all their friends around them are doing so well. What is so sad is that he knows it is wrong and that he is doing the right thing but he feels guilty for not doing the wrong thing? Do any of us even know what that is like anymore in an age where everyone is so preoccupied with their own fiscal satisfaction, where we step on the little man to get to the top of the ladder, especially here where nothing can get done without a few hands getting greased? Even sadder is the fact that even in the knowledge that the man is doing the right thing does not help ease the futility of his life. The man feels that all there is to life is living it by not complaining about his station in it, going to work, going back home and then going back to work. The author masterfully describes everything in this book, there is a scene where the man takes a lunch break with no lunch to eat and decides to take a walk that leads him to cross some railway tracks and I swear you can see this man, you are there with him, as hungry as he is and totally worn out but glad for the fresh air and sunshine. There is a line that stayed with me, “His breath reeked with the rich stench of rotten menstrual blood”. Who but the most awesome writer can pull a line like that off?
If you can read this masterpiece and let it change your life.
The reason I hate writing reviews is that I will never ever write as beautifully as the authors of the books I am writing about and as such can never convey to you just how beautiful the writing is. Just trust me because even though I can’t write, I sure can read.
This book is beautiful, I realize I say that about a lot of books but I mean it all the time. There is something about books where the protagonist remains unnamed; there is a way one relates to characters that are nameless that is different from those that are named. You don’t assume anything and every little description helps you form an opinion as to what kind of person this character is.
The main character in this book, the man as he is referred to, is trying not to be corrupt in a country riddled with corruption. His family chastises him for not wanting to advance and make them happy when all their friends around them are doing so well. What is so sad is that he knows it is wrong and that he is doing the right thing but he feels guilty for not doing the wrong thing? Do any of us even know what that is like anymore in an age where everyone is so preoccupied with their own fiscal satisfaction, where we step on the little man to get to the top of the ladder, especially here where nothing can get done without a few hands getting greased? Even sadder is the fact that even in the knowledge that the man is doing the right thing does not help ease the futility of his life. The man feels that all there is to life is living it by not complaining about his station in it, going to work, going back home and then going back to work. The author masterfully describes everything in this book, there is a scene where the man takes a lunch break with no lunch to eat and decides to take a walk that leads him to cross some railway tracks and I swear you can see this man, you are there with him, as hungry as he is and totally worn out but glad for the fresh air and sunshine. There is a line that stayed with me, “His breath reeked with the rich stench of rotten menstrual blood”. Who but the most awesome writer can pull a line like that off?
If you can read this masterpiece and let it change your life.
The reason I hate writing reviews is that I will never ever write as beautifully as the authors of the books I am writing about and as such can never convey to you just how beautiful the writing is. Just trust me because even though I can’t write, I sure can read.
Kwanjula
I have written this solely to kwanjula my new blog friend who has only been blogging three days but already has three posts up. (How I wish I could do that.) Anyway, I present to you,
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Nothing Doing
Can you believe there is not a place on Kampala Road that sells coffee at 7:00am on Sunday? Shouldn't there be a coffee bar that is open all the time? I woke up at an ungodly hour to be at work and all I needed was a quick fix but neyvah to be any help. Nandos was open but with a dead coffee machine, Cafe Pap was open but only for cleaning as for Dominoes, the doors were even closed. Now I am here dozing at my workstation and starting to find voices in my ear. Life is hard.
So, I was reading through my blog and it seems like I used to lead a very interesting life compared to the one I am leading now evidenced by all the partying I used to do and Dante is on my case constantly that I am growing old but I disagree. I might not blog a whole lot but I am really happy right now. Happier than I have been (I was going to say in a long time but I don't usually be sad) almost ever. Just because I don't blog does not mean I am old and boring, does it?
Anyway, I was at Garden City the other day with Carlo having coffee and killing the hours till I was to watch American Gangster with the lover when I got stalked. It wasn't as bad as it sounded but it was kinda freaky. So there we are at the NYK when this guy sits down opposite us right in my line of sight and he just keeps staring at me. He buys just a water and then he walks outside to our table to use the tissues passing on the way another perfectly ok set of tissues. I thought that was the extent of it, I am kinda used to being stared at so I thought no big deal. We walk away after paying our bill and enter some saloon to get Carlo's ears pierced and what do you know SD (Stalker Dude) walks right in there behind us and aks how much a hair cut is and then again sits right opposite us. We decided to leave the saloon and walk over to the ATM for Carlo and again he follows us. At this point it is just getting irritating because he is all sweaty and smelly and ukempt, his shirt is half untucked and he is not cute. If you are going to stalk someone, atleast, have the decency to look good while doing it. So, Carlo leaves because it is time for me to go get the tickets and I walk up to the cinema. I meet an old friend and go over to say hello and from where I am standing at Tutti Frutti I see SD looking a bit like he has lost someone he is trying to find. I get the tickets but I have to wait before we can get in the cinema so I sit on these chairs they let you sit on as you wait and who walks up and sits opposite me? You guessed it. I start to think he is dumb because does he think I am not seeing him, why doesn't he say anything but he walks up to the concession stand and starts asking about the prices of things. Thankfully the lover finally shows up and I practically run to him and hug him because this was getting weird.
Anyway we saw American Gangster and I must say, Denzel has excellent teeth and his acting isn't so bad either. The whole time I was thinking Frank Lucas had him some brass balls and also even though he was a drug dealer you've got to give it up for him, the man was intent on being rich and poweful and I don't know if it just the movie but it looked so easy.Even us we sell pure heroine and be rich, right?
So, I was reading through my blog and it seems like I used to lead a very interesting life compared to the one I am leading now evidenced by all the partying I used to do and Dante is on my case constantly that I am growing old but I disagree. I might not blog a whole lot but I am really happy right now. Happier than I have been (I was going to say in a long time but I don't usually be sad) almost ever. Just because I don't blog does not mean I am old and boring, does it?
Anyway, I was at Garden City the other day with Carlo having coffee and killing the hours till I was to watch American Gangster with the lover when I got stalked. It wasn't as bad as it sounded but it was kinda freaky. So there we are at the NYK when this guy sits down opposite us right in my line of sight and he just keeps staring at me. He buys just a water and then he walks outside to our table to use the tissues passing on the way another perfectly ok set of tissues. I thought that was the extent of it, I am kinda used to being stared at so I thought no big deal. We walk away after paying our bill and enter some saloon to get Carlo's ears pierced and what do you know SD (Stalker Dude) walks right in there behind us and aks how much a hair cut is and then again sits right opposite us. We decided to leave the saloon and walk over to the ATM for Carlo and again he follows us. At this point it is just getting irritating because he is all sweaty and smelly and ukempt, his shirt is half untucked and he is not cute. If you are going to stalk someone, atleast, have the decency to look good while doing it. So, Carlo leaves because it is time for me to go get the tickets and I walk up to the cinema. I meet an old friend and go over to say hello and from where I am standing at Tutti Frutti I see SD looking a bit like he has lost someone he is trying to find. I get the tickets but I have to wait before we can get in the cinema so I sit on these chairs they let you sit on as you wait and who walks up and sits opposite me? You guessed it. I start to think he is dumb because does he think I am not seeing him, why doesn't he say anything but he walks up to the concession stand and starts asking about the prices of things. Thankfully the lover finally shows up and I practically run to him and hug him because this was getting weird.
Anyway we saw American Gangster and I must say, Denzel has excellent teeth and his acting isn't so bad either. The whole time I was thinking Frank Lucas had him some brass balls and also even though he was a drug dealer you've got to give it up for him, the man was intent on being rich and poweful and I don't know if it just the movie but it looked so easy.Even us we sell pure heroine and be rich, right?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Uganda Best of Blog Awards.
The polls are finally up on The Kampalan so go on over there and vote for your favourite blogs. Voting ends on 27th February so see you in the winners' circle.
Friday, January 25, 2008
BHH Recap
And so it was, BHH I mean and it rocked. I was the first one there as I usually am only because I work so close to Mateos and finish work at 4 so I am basically idle till 6. I wasn't there long and who comes along but the blushing bride-to-be Be Silent herself. We talked about Tandra's latest post which reads like a Hollywood rom-com with none of the rom or com just the tears. We weren't there long when Carlo came with Pesh who despite not having a blog reads them religiously. Ivan was next, fresh from his gig on the radio (Vision Voice 94.8 they had better pay me for this) discussing which one in the couple should declare their wealth to the other, the man or the woman. Does this mean they are not allowed to talk about same sex couples?
Rachel was next and she was shortly followed by Mr. Back to Basics himself, Edmund with Tandra. Kissyfur came soon after and we had a newbie, Lucy decided to deign us with her presence. We introduced Pesh to her as Keitetsi and it was not pretty. Did I forget to mention Peter had been there for ages by this time? Flora came last but not too late and she invited someone along. Brian knows his series so he was fun. The whole night in general was a good one. We didn't get into the whole 'I am not my tribe' debate as we thought we would but we did get to see Ivan show off his Zune and Peter show off his Iphone. (But also boys!) The nomination sheets were handed out and the list will be out later on today. The night was soon over and we were all out of there by 9.30pm.
P.S There was no Guinness!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Blogger's Happy Hour
It is January so it is time for yet another BHH go here for details and an update on the 2007 Uganda Best of Blog Awards.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Night Rider
It is 2.00am and I am in my living room having just been dropped home from work. It is always so beautiful driving (or being driven) around Kampala at night and I thought I would share what that is like for me with you guys. Bear with me for I am an amateur, here I present Night Rider: A home made movie by me.If some images a are blurry and there is a bit of bumping, please, chalk it up to the moving car. I hope you enjoy.
If it is a bit bumpy or blurry in some places, please chalk it up to the moving car and not to my inexperience.
Later loverlies.
If it is a bit bumpy or blurry in some places, please chalk it up to the moving car and not to my inexperience.
Later loverlies.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Only a few questions.
Despite there being no fuel in town, there was a massive traffic jam on my way to work today. This is so not good, the no fuel I mean. I was speaking to someone earlier today who called to my attention the fact that we are not the only ones suffering from the border closing. I had forgotten that Rwanda, Burundi, Congo and Sudan all benefit from neighbouring Kenya. If this carries on much longer, everything will eventually be priced much higher to factor in the price of fuel.
While we are on the subject of Kenya, what I want to ask, what gets me so incensed, is the machetes. Must it be machetes? I wonder about the human condition when one man can hack another to death and watch him die as he does this. We have an incredible capacity for evil as humans, we do. To burn up a church with women and children in it simply because they are not the same tribe as you is ludicrous and I cannot believe it is happening. Is there anything I can do, we can do to stop the madness? I also wonder about a man who starts out with a pledge to help his people but goes on to let this evil fester right under his nose knowing it is all his own fault. Does Kibaki not care? I know they say that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely but how can he not care at all? How long will he not care? Now, I am not very political at all but it sucks to see what is happening and to have it happen only next door. Please don't let this turn into another genocide. Kenya, you are all very much in my prayers.
Year in Review
All in all, I have had a pretty interesting year.
I got my heart broken and met the love of my life.
I got a job, lost it, got another one and got a promotion.
I moved house and really love the one I'm in now.
I pierced my tongue and let the second piercings in my ear seal up.
I got green eyes which I assure you I love. (see banner)
I cried, laughed, sighed, danced, loved and lived.
The one still to come.
For the new year I resolve to
Blog more often (yeah right)
Care more practically (i.e. give alms and volunteer for good causes)
And the biggie, launch the Read-A-Book Literacy programme. (I want to promote the reading culture in primary school going children and I need all of you guys help to make this happen. You can start by giving me all your old children's books and promising to volunteer to read to the kids when I need you to.)
Wish me luck.
While we are on the subject of Kenya, what I want to ask, what gets me so incensed, is the machetes. Must it be machetes? I wonder about the human condition when one man can hack another to death and watch him die as he does this. We have an incredible capacity for evil as humans, we do. To burn up a church with women and children in it simply because they are not the same tribe as you is ludicrous and I cannot believe it is happening. Is there anything I can do, we can do to stop the madness? I also wonder about a man who starts out with a pledge to help his people but goes on to let this evil fester right under his nose knowing it is all his own fault. Does Kibaki not care? I know they say that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely but how can he not care at all? How long will he not care? Now, I am not very political at all but it sucks to see what is happening and to have it happen only next door. Please don't let this turn into another genocide. Kenya, you are all very much in my prayers.
Year in Review
All in all, I have had a pretty interesting year.
I got my heart broken and met the love of my life.
I got a job, lost it, got another one and got a promotion.
I moved house and really love the one I'm in now.
I pierced my tongue and let the second piercings in my ear seal up.
I got green eyes which I assure you I love. (see banner)
I cried, laughed, sighed, danced, loved and lived.
The one still to come.
For the new year I resolve to
Blog more often (yeah right)
Care more practically (i.e. give alms and volunteer for good causes)
And the biggie, launch the Read-A-Book Literacy programme. (I want to promote the reading culture in primary school going children and I need all of you guys help to make this happen. You can start by giving me all your old children's books and promising to volunteer to read to the kids when I need you to.)
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
And another one.
I can't believe we are in another year. I remember the New Year's Eve of 2007 so vividly as if it were yesterday. Actually, a little better than yesterday considering it was way more fun. This is what I did for New Year's Eve yesterday. I watched Rent with my sisters. What did you do?
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
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