Author: manqindi

Post imperial wind drift. Swazi, British, Zimbabwe-Rhodesian, Irish, New Zealand citizen and resident, now in Queensland, Australia. 10th generation African of mainly European descent. Catholic upbringing, more free thinker now. BA and Law background. Altar boy, wages clerk, uncle, prefect, student, court clerk, prosecutor, magistrate, convoy escort, pensioner, HR Practitioner, husband, stepfather, father, bull terrier lover, telephone interviewer, Call Centre manager, HR manager, grandfather, author (amateur)

Shine a light on it

This is not a religious rant.

The Devil loves the dark. He shies away from the light.

I was having a devil of a time understanding why I felt that capitalism was a failed system.

My concern was prompted by the perpetual focus on how rich the super rich are. The worth of Elon Musk, Bill Gates etc is staggering! According to Wikipedia they are surpassed by Bernard Arnaut who is worth $233 billion!! (understandable as he produces the world’s best champagne, brandy and luxury goods – Louis Vuitton – he sells to rich folk).

Then I shone a little light on their worth: LVMH has 213,000 employees, representing 190 different nationalities; Musk companies employ over 110,000 people.

That’s how capitalism works: clever people employ many people who in turn fund society and of course they all pay taxes so we can have a government to run our countries. In 2023, LVMH paid a tax rate of 26% on revenue of €86 billion.

That looks like capitalism works very well for society!!

Since the adoption of capitalism the world has improved dramatically:

  • Life expectancy has more than doubled since 1900;
  • the almost universal illiteracy of 200 years ago has practically disappeared;
  • only 10% of the world live in extreme poverty, compared to 80% of the world 2 00 years ago.

There certainly seems to be enough money provided by the Capitalist economies and even the former communist and totalitarian economies like China and Russia who have ample funds to spend on military hardware and war!

So we must shine our light elsewhere.

The US federal government debt now stands at 33 trillion dollars*

Almost every single Western economy shows a similar pattern!!

Throughout democratic capitalist economies, politicians are confronted by rising expectations of the voters, rising costs of government and declining productivity.

… authoritarian capitalist economies such as those of Russia and China are not constrained by the economic realities that confront Western democracies.

If free market capitalist economies are to survive we have to either substantially increase rates of taxation to pay for rearmament or reduce the welfare benefits that citizens now see as their right.

https://www.spectator.com.au/2024/06/are-we-doomed Tony Letford

Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Our governments are just shelling out money to stay in power – how long is that going to work?

So my faith in capitalism is restored. I have no faith in politicians, yet they are what we have, so we must get them to work properly.

Intermittent feasting

It is a sad thing that we always try to fool ourselves. Long ago, I accepted that I was hopelessly self-indulgent and because I loved eating and drinking, there would be some corporeal consequences.

Daily exercise was my penance and thus I felt that I prevented indulgences from becoming overwhelming. I knew my form as overweight; what a tailor called rather inelegantly, portly short. (My ego inserted ‘slightly’ to mollify my dignity).

I had long ago accepted that I was not as trim as I was when I played rugby (not quite 50 years ago), but that the next step, overweight, was acceptable. I mean Shakespeare’s Falstaff was a knight at arms, even though somewhat portly!

However, I was recently labelled as obese!!

I was also told the risks that my obesity fostered: diabetes, higher blood pressure, dementia, high cholesterol; but to be honest, I think it was my vanity that was most bruised. I can not allow myself to be obese!

It was my chiropractor who labelled me – a good man (he talks rugby between slaps and stretches).

I had gone to him for various aches and pains and the obvious conclusion we drew, was that they too may well diminish if my poor skeleton was not dragging around almost 20kg of unnecessary weight.

He suggested that losing weight was a mental challenge. Diets were about changing what was eaten; changing when I ate, may outfox my procrastinations and lapses when confronted by Black Forest Cake or Sherry Trifle.

So now I may eat them between 10h00 and 18h00, admittedly with some moderation …. but I am a reasonable man.

In this way, I protect my vanity by reducing my obesity and virtuously discipline my habits and lose wight which will make me healthy.

It’s what I call a win, win, win solution!

(I might live forever! That might be taking things a step too far. Nobody would tolerate me at 90!!)

I promise to keep you informed on progress … or otherwise! Scout’s Honour.

Starting weight, fully dressed was (?) 105kg.

Lonesome Town

You can buy a dream or two to last you all through the years

And the only price you pay is a heart full of tears

Francoise Hardy sang it so sadly to a young teenager, along with many other songs that echo in my memory. I won her LP Francoise Hardy sings in English at a school ‘tickey’ evening in 1964. Instantaneously, I was a life long fan.

My friend Phillip Birch heard of her arrival in South Africa and scored her autograph for me.

His photo was in The Star running alongside her and David Gresham her impresario. Gresh was also a Swazi boy so organized the signed autograph. Oh, swell my heart!

Her version of Leonard Cohen’s Suzanne was a wonder song:

And you know that she’s half crazy but that’s why you wanna be there,

And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China,

My favourite was probably All over the world – it was particularly meaningful to me when my son was soldiering in Afghanistan.

If maybe some night

You come back from afar

Who cares if tonight

I don’t know where you are

I have never denied being sentimental.

MHDSRIP

In other ways of surviving Lonesome Town, 3.5 million people use chatbot platforms daily as companions, romantic partners and even digital ghosts.

Woebot is a metal health chatbot which responds with cognitive behaviour therapy. It is not a generative chatbot like Chatgpt – conversations are written by writers with training in evidence-based approaches.  

This indicates a significant shift in how people interact with technology for emotional support and socialization. 

However, while these interactions can be beneficial, they also raise concerns about addiction and the potential negative impact on real-life social skills.

Digital ghosts, or AI-generated avatars of deceased loved ones, offer another perspective on how AI can influence human emotions and relationships

This practice taps into cultural traditions of communicating with the dead but also introduces new ethical and psychological challenges. While some find comfort in these interactions, others worry about the potential for prolonged grief and the blurring of reality and memory.

AI companions also extend into the realm of romantic relationships, with platforms offering AI-generated girlfriends gaining popularity

AI companions can provide temporary comfort and help improve social skills, they cannot replace the depth and physicality of human relationships. companionship and emotional support in elder care, hospitals, and mental health facilities.

For example, … a robotic pet that responds to voice commands and provides calming conversations for dementia patients, reducing the need for constant human supervision and enhancing patient comfort stress management, coping with loss, or relationship counselling.

In the workplace they can provide employees with confidential, 24/7 support for stress management, work-life balance, and mental health issues.

Most of the above paragraphs on AI chatbots were extracted from an article in Quantumrun – The Futures -No 59

There is a wonderful new world out there being made possible by AI, which can largely wipe places like Lonesome Town from the map.

But as in all things moderation is the key (something we are not very good at!)

The winter garden

The first nasturtiums are out, all yellow except for one blood red.

Green and red stars of the poinsettia are stirringly beautiful.

Deep blue sky.

The sun is almost too hot but its cold inside.

Pigeons give their lazy oo-call and the honeyeater squeaks three times.

Its very green after a wet autumn.

We have no fruit now but the herbs are flourishing.

Some petunias but pansies yet to flower.

Am I laughing or crying?

Of course it can be both … and more: you can wet yourself laughing … or even die!

Laughter can be messy, but generally it does one good. Some times, heh! heh! (accompanied by hands rubbing together), it can mean an evil plan has come together.

Often laughter follows witnessing the misfortune of others, which is not really nice, but usually occurs involuntarily and thus often hinders the immediate tendering of assistance. Not that assistance from a tear stained, snorting friend would be welcome or in fact practical!

Laughter has been described as “a physical urge tied to a psychological need for release … each human being is caught in a tug-of-war: part of us strains to live free as individuals, guided by bodily appetites and aggressive urges, while the other side yearns for conformity and acceptance. This results in every normal person being continually steeped in psychic tension, mostly due to guilt and lack of fulfillment.” *

Certainly laughter is a release and is almost always infectious, releasing smiles and grins in most passers-by. Laughter therapy is a real thing. Have you ever seen a sad hyena?

Recently I was sent a link to a grand website/ app (L’oeuil musical), which had clips of many songs dating back to the middle of last century. Hearing some of them brought tears of … joy? to my eyes. (I am, however, prone to blubbing).

My question is: why do I not laugh instead of cry? Although crying is of course not synonymous with sadness: happiness, pride, pain, smells, a punch on the nose can all elicit tears.

Did you know there are such people as professional mourners who are paid to attend funerals and look sad? I wonder if they get paid more if they can cry there as well?

We all know about clowns and comedians who are professionals who make a living out of your laughter.

One of the most famous comedians, Jerry Seinfeld has recently fallen foul of the woke mob, essentially because he’s a Jew, who stands by Israel – let us hope that they are not bent on killing humour. Maybe there’ll soon be song like American Pie, about the day the laughter died?

I think laughing and crying are both good and if you stifle your laughter or deny your tears, you will crumble.

Next time you walk down the street, laugh out loud and smile; you will leave a trail of happiness.

Next time you feel sad, cry, baby, cry.

Let it all hang out, there is no shame in crying – only in not crying.

*The Legacy of the Wisecrack: Stand-up Comedy as the Great Literary Form by Eddie Tafoya

Get down, Woman

That is the title of a song written by John Fogerty and first performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival in 1968 (see below for lyrics). I do not remember hearing it before today, but it expressed something that has been gnawing at my gut for some time.

The words are not an instruction, but a plea, which is right for the times. The demands and displays by Western women seeking equality with men and the end to the exploitation and subjugation of women by men have grown and spread like a fever.

I support those objectives. However, I believe that the male and female psyche evolved in our lizard brains and are ingrained in our culture and beliefs. The physically stronger male is driven to dominate and impress with his superior skills and strength; the physically weaker but more astute female seeks out and enthralls the strong male who is likely to be a good provider and protector. 

The growing economic independence of women in society since the industrial revolution has gathered impetus and has increasingly challenged and diminished men’s unrestricted dominance in the Western, Christian world.

The unrelenting criticism of male behaviour in modern times is increasingly shrill and condemnatory; its sheer volume pronouncing guilt without need for process.

The solidarity expressed in the #metoo campaign is phenomenal, but dangerous, because the allegations are historic and invariably tarnished by the time lapse between incident and outrage.

The offences are deemed to be so gross and prevalent that all humanity is required to unhesitatingly condemn any and all allegations!

Children are likely to be infused with suspicions and fears that their fathers and all men are beasts, out to subjugate and molest them because they are weaker.

Males are shrinking away and not engaging in this emotionally charged debate nor seeking a way forward. History is against them, crime has been re-defined retrospectively and they have been judged and found wanting (no pun intended)…

Males will be less likely in future to abuse their superiority. The yin will repel the yang.

However, the offer of an apple will be less successful. A lot more affirmative action will be required to compel employment equity. Like all artificial remedies, its success is likely to be limited. The male propensity for sulking and resentment is profound: the chasm between the sexes will widen with less willing help from the incumbent, dominant male majority.

Resentment will fester, western society may sunder.

Cultures, where women remain subjugated, will flourish and dominate societies riven by sanctimonious crusades and repressed resentment; torn by the yin and neutered yang of democratic politics.

So thos is a re-post. I believe it is still relevant.

Get Down Woman by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Well, get down woman, before I have to go.
Well, get down woman, before I have to go.
You know, ya hurt me with your bad mouth,
An’ I just don’t wanna know.

Well, slow down, baby, and gimme a little time.
Well, slow down, baby, and gimme a little time.
If you want me hangin’ ’round,
Gotta give me some peace of mind.

Oh, get down boy.

Well, get back, woman, before you bring it down.
Well, now, get back, baby, before you bring it down.
Or you can tell it to the wall,
Without me hangin’ around.

Originally posted on 16 March 2018 – it was somehow removed from the list.

Is it just the generation gap?

I have been restless and uncomfortable, resisting the inclination to froth and rant.

It’s not time to make a change

Just relax, take it easy

You’re still young, that’s your fault

There’s so much you have to know

The sheer perversity, fickleness and senselessness of mankind is depressing; I am aghast at the polarisation of  people of the western civilisation; let alone people of the Middle East and  Far East who are apparently equally as dichotomised and dissatisfied.

How can I try to explain?

When I do he turns away again

It’s always been the same

Same old story

From the moment I could talk

I was ordered to listen, now there’s a way

And I know that I have to go away

I know I have to go

Is it all down to tribalism? That great big melting cup of mixed ethnicities and cultures which is the supposedly United States of America, seems to be disintegrating politically and socially at an alarming rate. Economically it appears to be thriving but with an economy funded by huge  and growing debt.

We have become diffuse and directionless, without a Polestar to guide us towards the same destination with the same interests.

Our ethics and principles and freedoms have been eroded and clouded and remoulded into different things to accommodate diversity, equity and inclusion. The authorities of the past are decried and history is re-defined.

I was once like you are now

And I know that it’s not easy

To be calm when you’ve found

Something going on

But take your time, think a lot

Think of everything you’ve got

For you will still be here tomorrow

But your dreams may not

Academia has been seized by the new wave, persuaded or cowed by the volume of cries to change history to abide by the new future of glorification and recompense of minorities. Disempowerment and emasculation are the cries of the new age, change is their agenda. There is momentum but little coherent vision – no Nirvana or Jerusalem, just destruction.

The old Marxists must be rejoicing at this projection towards a state of chaos, from which a new world can be built. Of course it will require a tyrant to bind the movement together and enforce discipline.

All the times that I’ve cried

Keeping all the things I knew inside

It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it

If they were right I’d agree

But it’s them they know, not me

So how do we avert this disaster? Or do we just roll over and go with the flow, as many have done already?

If, or more likely, when Trump comes to power, there will be a radical ripple of change. Support for NATO and the Ukraine and Israel will shrivel. Trade with China will be tariffed and short shrift given to illegal immigrants. The impact on Europe will be huge and Russia will grow powerful and dangerous to its other neighbours. China may be emboldened to consume Taiwan.

Will it stop the erosion of our institutions and society? Should it? Some of them are certainly no longer fit for purpose.

Somehow the gap between the polarised needs to be bridged. Zero sum arguments of the left and right will not prevail. A new way forward is needed.

That must be the solution: the best of the old and the best of the new, best of the west and best of the east, which we might yet have to discover.

Communication is now instantaneous, nothing remains hidden, accurate information and the total wisdom of the past is all there. Sadly, I fear, like religion, we have to deal with Man who is capable of and prone to corruption and perversion,  to serve his own narrow interests.

Somehow we need to distil and renew freedoms which allow the truth to prevail and prevent corruption. Are we back to God vs Satan? 

First define what is good and then what is bad; or vice versa?

Then get everyone to agree ….. Yeah, right!

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

DYLAN THOMAS

Other verses from Father and Son by Cat Stevens/Yusuf

I’m an old country boy

An old friend came to town from up North and said let’s catch up somewhere.

We decided on a 10 a.m. brunch in a cafe near the central station and his flat. I am somewhat of a hermit and get lost easily, so hate going into the city.

I have never worked or lived in a city except Salisbury in the 1970’s, which was really a large town with mild traffic in those days. Then 10 years ago in Australia, I commuted by train to an inner suburb from an outer suburb for 2 months – I still shudder…

Timetables were checked and the way to the cafe (just 7 minutes walk) and I had my phone… so girded my loins.

Only had to wait 12 minutes for the train (better early than never..). There was a seat near the door, pity about the school trip into the city. Young people can chatter!

Got to Central station without mishap. Found an exit, hobbled down stairs … left or right? Go right … oops! should be heading to Ann Street, which is the other way. More stairs… Just as well I had allowed an extra 10 minutes to find my way.

There are a lot of people in a city; why are they all on the same pavement as me?All looking purposeful and calm, politely sidestepping my hesitant shambling amble.

Ann Street, go right to Edward Street – easy peasy, only 100m to go, cross to the left, down the hill. Hmmm! better check my phone map. It says destination 9 minutes away – I’d thought it was 7 from the station..? Carry on and find a landmark to check if you are going the right way.

Can’t read street names on map; Yikes! it now says 11 minutes from destination!

So back up the hill I trudge, past Ann Street. Now 5 minutes late and at a wiggly crossroads where my phone map says cross left then right then do a wiggle and you are there. Confused I gaze about seeking clues…

Ting! A message no doubt asking where am I. My friend knows me well. It says: “Do u know where you going? There is no signage but in the snazzy building at the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder behind the revolving door!“

I look up and there across the road is a revolving door. I felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland searching for the White Rabbit. I found him behind the revolving door.

We had a good old friend reunion, which was reasuring. I almost envied his cool equilibrium about visiting the city, but remembered he had worked in Durban City for many years.

Finding my way back was easy, I even found a shortcut by reading the signs. Waited only 7 minutes for a train and had remembered to go to the loo, so there was no stress.

I am so glad I am a country boy, so glad that I will not be around in 50 years when it will be like a city everywhere, unless you travel miles inland … for a while.

The Eve of Destruction

Barry Maguire, once a hippy rocker lately into gospel music, sang the title song which was written by PF Sloan.

Listen and tremble. : The Eve of Destruction

Then there is Buffy Sainte Marie’s Universal Soldier

All of 50 years ago, they made my Mum cry when I played them.

They make me cry now. Especially now, as we in Australia and New Zealand gather to honour the sacrifice and courage of our armed forces, on the anniversary of the Gallipoli fiasco.

My great, great grandfather was a soldier, as was his son, and also his son, my grandfather, Aubrey Vialls. His son, my uncle Boy, flew in the Western Desert in World War 2

My other grandfather was a soldier, who fought in 3 wars, was awarded the DSO for bravery and briefly commanded the South African Brigade on the Western Front in World War 1.

My father served in North Africa and Italy in World War 2. His brother fought in Europe, Burma and Malaya and commanded the Royal Hampshire Regiment for a while .

My son has served in Timor, Afghanistan and Sinai

I have a conflict of emotion and intellect which is unlikely to be easily reconciled. I believe that we need guards and sentries to preserve our way of life. I admire the way of the warrior and believe we need courageous, strong people to keep us safe.

The warrior enshrines courage and resourcefulness and longs to prove himself in battle, to demonstrate the skills which have been taught.

As we saw in the Vietnam War, a small commitment to shore up a government against communist overthrow, turns into a vortex, sucking in tens of thousands who died, generating a military-industrial economy which gains heavy momentum.

Not long after, Middle Eastern tyrants defy Pax Americana and the war vortex starts sucking in soldiers and spitting them out dead or maimed.

Where does the virtuous deployment (is there such a thing?) of soldiers begin and where does it end. Rules of engagement are political tools. Politicians have different values and interests and often lose sight of the humanity their decisions impact. Once the ball is rolling it only stops when the pain becomes unbearable…

Can you imagine a world war, now that we have grown so lax and soft and comfort friendly? Now we fuss more about recompensing historical wrongs to ancestors of modern day minorities. Now we can’t say, no, now move along. Now we can’t defend our lives without fear of accusation of excess. Nor can the police.

Suddenly, all in Australia, between ages of 18 and 45 are conscripted for war service: men and wwomen (!!), citizens and aliens too (those that are not interned); protests, strikes and demonstrations will be banned and forcefully suppressed, (no time for the frillier civil liberties); rationing will slim us down.

Watch the wave of youth crime disappear and the woke wails dwindle to a whisper.

It could easily happen … soon; conscription happened three times in the last century!

I wrote about the paradox of remembrance after Armistice Day in 2021. It seems that I continue to wrestle conciliation between martial honour and the desire for peace.

If you can take more of the protest era songs listen to Masters of War written by Bob Dylan, sung here by Barry Maguire (I had his LP: The World’s Last Private Citizen).

What can we do?

The air is clear and still, dew is glistening on the leaves, birds’ calls are particularly clear and sharp. Some gum trees are in flower again, fooled by the seventh false start of summer. The honey eaters are happy.

Today attack drones swarm towards Israel – is this the start of World War 3? All the ingredients are present: an axis of autocrats, their identified enemy, a creature of the Western alliance…. all have nuclear weapons.

Yesterday a maniac ran amok slashing and stabbing indiscriminately, mostly weak and defenceless victims, avoiding challenges from brave men; then shot dead by an efficient police officer.

The same day we baby sat a grandson for a few hours; we sang and danced and laughed and smiled … such uninhibited joy and love!

Tomorrow judgment will be handed down on another case arising from the lies and immorality of two young people who had been employed to assist our government ministers. How did they get there and how could they have been tolerated? The damage created by just one incident has been incredible: reputations of Ministers, Judges, Police officers, Media icons tattered … only a bishop missing! And the slime ball is still rolling!

What we can do is lift our heads and think about values outside our little material worlds. We need to decide how much we value freedom and consider the responsibilities of citizens in democracies. Remember, we have a duty not only to pay our taxes and obey the law; we must also take up arms to defend our country when required.

I suggest that we should think a bit more about the corrosion of our values and speak out against their erosion by sentiment and identity politics.