The Erratic Hungarian

Beware of whom you spend your time with my pretties.

I recently became very good friends with a person that has more life experience and opinions than your average Joe Soap on the street. Although this makes him out to be a very interesting individual i.e. world traveler, worked in different contexts from the malaria ridden DRC to a pencil pusher in London, there are still paradoxal issues and perspectives that I can’t come to grips with. Things that will make you think: “Well fuck it, what’s the point then?”

 Having lived a pretty sheltered life in post apartheid South Africa, there are certain elements of life and the way  some people live it that I don’t agree with, but I’m sure you noticed that from my previous posts. I don’t want the 9-5, big house, big car, 2 kids in private school tutelage. I crave adventure, going against the grind, travelling, really giving back to society, not just the same routine day in and day out.

Marching to Mediocrity?

And here I thought I found a kindred spirit. However after a couple of beers and emotional barricades crumbling, the illusion was shattered.  After all of this, after all the adventure and living in the moment, a confession was made: ”It’s all bullshit. You are living in disillusion. I still crave the big house, the big car, the security.”

This made me wonder. Are we all just walking on the same path, even though it goes against everything you stand for? Are we all just marching into mediocrity? Trying something different but all ending in the inevitable? No choice in the matter, just predetermined destiny?

I struggled with this “realization” I thought that maybe all this time I was just being naïve? Living in ignorance. I was still stupidly holding onto this ideal, that wasn’t true.

Then I consciously made a decision. Maybe it’s true, maybe it’s not. Every person is entitled to their own opinion, even the Hungarian. In the end: It’s your life, your decisions and your choice to believe in anything. If you believe the sun is a flying spaghetti monster filled with bees, then from your perspective this is true. So I can have my opinion on life and how I want to see and experience it.

Maybe it is a bit naïve?  No Fuck it. Remember my dears;  You are the author of your life; you live in what you create.

Before I die I want to buy a tiger.

Ok not really, what would I do with it? Sure it’ll give me some street cred especially if the tiger’s wearing a diamond encrusted collar and I’m walking all nonchalantly in the streets of the city.

This was an inscription on an Urban Art project entitled “Before I die I want to________”. It originated in New Orleans, where Candy Chang converted a wall of an abandoned house into an urban art piece.

It’s a very simple idea. It gives bypassers time to reflect on their lives and share their personal aspirations in public space. The side of the house was converted into a giant chalkboard, stenciled in the sentence: “Before I die I want to ________” .The wall turned a neglected space into a constructive one where we can restore perspective and understand our fellow man in new and enlightening ways.

The project blew up in ways never expected and people’s hopes and dreams have ranged from the funny to the poignant: Before I die I want to… sing for millions, see my daughter graduate, eat a salad with an alien, straddle the International Date Line, see the leaves change many times, be someone’s cavalry, hike the Appalachian Trail, cook a souffle, black out in a foreign country, help numerous children, hold her one more time, love and be loved, abandon all insecurities, be completely myself.”

This project has expanded to all corners of the earth from the Netherlands, Mexico, Australia, Portugal, Kazakhstan, even to our own South Africa(http://beforeidie.cc/walls/johannesburg-south-africa.html). The project is growing every day and together we can make public spaces that better reflect what matters to a community and individuals.

Have a look on the website( http://beforeidie.cc/).  Maybe start your own wall?




Before

 


Writing is on the wall

Blank canvass

Add some Chalk




Individual (s) street artists into the mix

Opinions



 

Dreams





Hopes

Ideas



End Result




Before I die in JHB :P









LOLs

Laughter.

Isn't it a beautiful sound? And it means so many different things to different people. I love a good laugh, and if I had to classify my sense of humour, I suppose it would be combination  of dry and dark.

However people disagree on what's funny.

For the life of me I will never understand why people enjoy watching Jackass?! It's a bunch of nitwits just hurting each other and themselves. I'm sure this "Jackass" idea was conceived, one summer afternoon. The guys were probably very high or drunk (or both). Reality checked in, they realised that they don't have anything really going for them.No real skills, talents or education, but they have a penis and a Blowtorch, so let's set it on fire, make a video and send it to MTV. This probably falls into slapstick comedy.

I have nipples & clothing pins!

So I did some research into the different sense of humours you get. So here goes.

1.) Slapstick:

Physical humor. Lots of pratfalls, falling, being hit on the head, etc. The term actually comes from the prop that actors used to hit each other with. It made a loud noise, but was hardly felt. Charlie Chaplin, started it, the idiots at Jackass made it what it is today.


2.) Dry humor

Its that deadpan, straightfaced style of humor. It's the not-very-funny joke your uncle the accountant tells. It's funny without trying to be funny. It's shows like Arrested Development, Flight of the Conchords, Black Books.


3.) Farce

Exaggerated comedy. Characters in a farce get themselves in an unlikely or improbable situation that takes a lot of footwork and fast talking to get out of. Basically any Steve Carrell or Michael Cera movie and shows like 30 Rock.

4.) Dark

Humor about the gross, violent, and otherwise depressing things in life; also called Black Comedy. People who work in emergency response: police, fire fighters, have great dark humor. Most of the time the victim is the source of the comedy. Beetlejuice, Bad Santa etc.

5.) Screwball

Humor based on a misunderstanding, such as mistaken identities, taking an overhead piece of conversation out of context, etc. Screwball comedies usually involve sex or marriage as well. It's movies like 'Meet the Parents', and all those  millions of nameless college movies. It's also my least favorite type of comedy

6.) Parody

People often confuse this with satire, but the two are completely different. Parody mocks or makes fun of an original work. Saturday Night Live often parodies movies and TV shows. Those funny movie titles you come up with based on original movie titles ("Shaving Ryan's Privates") are parodies. They also stop being funny after about the fifth or sixth one.

7.) Satire

Satire is basically making fun of or ridiculing human follies and shortcomings, hopefully in the hopes of causing improvement. Satire is often meant to be funny, but that's not the purpose of it. It's shows like The Office, Parks and Recreation that falls into this category.

8.) Toilet Humour

No explanation needed. Bowels movements, fart jokes. Having a bowel movement whilst thinking it was a fart. There is your joke.

And one of my greatest forms of entertainment.The website 9 gag (http://9gag.com/) I bid you adieu with one of my favourite memes "Bad Luck Brian"

"Quarter-Life Crisis"

I'm so sorry my pretties (well the 3 of you reading my blog), it's been a super busy couple of months, with a promotion, a move and a 25th Birthday that has passed. So I haven't had the time to tend to you :(

One thing I realised is: Getting older sucks. Yes, I'm still in my twenties but can start smelling the pugnent stench of 30. This also being accompanied by random people asking my age and then responding in a cool hipster black dude voice :" Damn bitch you old!! Why are you still going out? Don't you have a husband and shit?" The answer my dear random is: "No I'm really not that old, I'm two years older than you are. Becasue I am a social person that enjoys smoking  and spending time with friends.No, I don't have a husband, seeing as I think people getting married at this age get excited over Tupperware parties, I'm not there yet."

But alas the curse of the 25th year, the Quarter-Life crisis prevails, below some things I noticed about this time of your life:

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are a lot of things about yourself that you didn't know and may or may not like.

You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones.

What you do not realize is that they are realizing that too and are not really cold or catty or mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You miss the comforts of university, of groups, of socializing with the same people on a constant basis. But then you realize that maybe they weren't so great after all.

You are insecure and then secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly the only thing constant in your life is change and you try and cling on to the past with dear life but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone could do such damage to you or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough to get to know better; All this while you had been convincing yourself that you didn't want to be tied down to any person; Now suddenly you have moments of self-doubt when you wonder if you waited too long and let someone special get away. Random hook ups start to look cheap and getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.

You want to be independent but suddenly, the idea of having the stability of a special someone to trust and lean on doesn't seem all that bad. You want to be your own person and yet be taken care of at the same time.

You go through the same emotions and questions over and over and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.

You worry that if you don't make dramatic changes and go on adventures now, in your youth, you might get tied down and one day become a bitter empty shell person totally absorbed in their work, but if you mess around for too long, all your friends will be settled and working and you will be the disorganised hippie with no place to stay.

You worry about loans and money and the future and making a life for yourself and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender.

We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.

That's what your mother said!

I'm Afrikaans. For those of you that have not heard of it, it’s a West Germanic language, spoken natively in South Africa and Namibia. It is a daughter language of Dutch, originating in its 17th century dialects, collectively referred to as Cape Dutch (a term also used to refer collectively to the early Dutch settlers). Although Afrikaans adopted words from languages such as Malay, Portuguese, the Bantu languages, and the Khoisan languages, an estimated 90 to 95 percent of Afrikaans vocabulary is ultimately of Dutch origin.

I speak the language and it is more than just semantics, it's a culture where people are raised in a specific way. There is a stigma that goes with being Afrikaans. Most of the people are conservative, super religious and have terrible taste in music. Like this idiot :S

Steve Hofmeyr

This is partly due to the fact that the Apartheid government had a jugular-death-grip on the media. For decades not allowing the public to read or listen to anything but local produce. Pumping propaganda not only from the airwaves; but also from the ministers of the local churches. 

This is something I have been rebelling against for as long as I can remember.

But Afrikaans as a culture is a topic for another day.

That being said there is nothing as great as speaking in your mother tongue, especially such a descriptive and sometimes ‘angry’ language as Afrikaans. Below a song by an Afrikaans artist Koos Kombuis. Please bear in mind this no longer falls into the cheesy Afrikaans music category but the artist is one of the “underground” players in the Apartheid regime. I chose one of my favourites "Liefde uit die Oude doos" roughly translates to "Old school Love".  Google translate if you keen: P

Liefde uit die oude Doos

Ek wil lewe in jou skaduwee, ek wil jou blik oor alles voel
Elke oggend as die son opkom, oor my bed en kas en stoel
Ek wil weet net hoe en wat jy is, ek wil jou fyn maal op die wal
Ek wil jou rook soos goeie kruie uit die diepste, diepste dal
Ek wil jou dophou as jy luister na die woorde van matrose
Ek wil saamgaan op jou strooptog, ek wil deel in jou psigose

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Ek het ‘n suster net soos jy. Sy dwaal rond in ou, ou gange
tussen prente en portrette, en wardrobes van verlange
Die hemel is in LSD. Die hel ook as jy my vra
Die paragrawe wat jy brei, is ‘n trui vir Mamma Afrika
Ek wil jou rondwys in my hart, maar jy mag dit nie onthou nie
Die knoppie is op pause, maar my boude is nie blou nie

Kuns is edel, kuns is boos, kuns is nogtans Goddeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Dis ‘n bitterbessie dagbreek, dis ‘n uitroep komma-punt
Mabalel is huistoe, want sy mis haar eie kind
Ek wens ek kon jou teken met ‘n koukie of ‘n kwas
Ek wens ek kon onthou hoekom ek so bewerig was
Ek wens ek kon jou oopskryf, met my balpunt pen behaag
Ek wens ons kon saam wakker word in ‘n youth hostel in Praag

God is edel, God is boos, God is nogtans skadeloos
Kind van sonde, kind van troos, kind van Liefde uit die Oudedoos

Paul Kruger likes to party

A certain time of year

No, this isn’t a post about Christmas. To be honest there is nothing more annoying than fake Santas in their warm and woolly red suites. It’s South Africa for crying out loud, we have hot and humid festive seasons at the sea side!

I’m talking about that end of the year feeling, when everything winds down at work, you’re not as busy and you reflect about the past year. Well 2011 has been a strange one. Best friends getting married, people dear to me passing away, the end of a long term relationship the start of a new chapter. It kind of leaves you with a haunting nervousness for the future onset with the realization that everything depends on certain choices you make in life.

It reminded me of a poem by Christina Rossetti called “Remember”. The poem is so versatile it can be about losing a person dear to you, the end of a relationship or just the end of an era in your life. It is a poignant poem with soft positive undercurrents that will stay with me for a long time. Christina Rossetti life spanned from 5 December 1830-1894 and although it’s more than 100 years ago this piece of poetry is timeless.

Remember me when I am gone away,  

Gone far away into the silent land;  

When you can no more hold me by the hand,  

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.  

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:  

Only remember me; you understand  

It will be late to counsel then or pray.  

Yet if you should forget me for a while  

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave  

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,  

Better by far you should forget and smile  

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Time is a'ticking

I have hugs for you if you were born in the 80's

If your Friends don't dance. Then they ain't no friends of mine.

I was born in 80's. The last sane generation.We are the last generation that learnt to play in the street. We are the first who played video games, see cartoons in colour and go to amusement parks. We were the last to record songs off the radio onto cassettes and we are the pioneers of walkmans and chatrooms.We learned how to program the VCR before anyone else. Played with the Super Nintendo and believed that the Internet would be a free world.Wore dungarees. Parents called the cinema a bioscope. Applied insulation tape over the holes on the TDK tape to record off the Hi-Fi. Didn't have a TV remote and had to stand up to change channels. Played cricket in the street with cars driving by. The Tamagochi. We are the generation of the Thunder Cats, the Transformers, Scooby Doo, Mina Moo, Tom And Jerry, Lion King, Popeye, Biker Mice from Mars and  Puppy in my Pocket. Witnessed the birth Boy Bands. Did the Macerana when it was still on the Billboard Top 100. Travelled in cars without seat belts or air-bags. Lived without cell phones. Rode our bicycles down the road without brakes. We never had a phone but still kept in touch.The days when a Blackberry was simply a fruit.We did not have PlayStation, 99 television stations, flat screens, surround sound, mp3s, iPods, computers and the Internet. We turned out pretty ok.

And just to share my love for fellow 80's babies. Especially the ones from South Africa!

 Some Calvin Harris :)