by Lidi de Waalek wil graag ń bietjie op jou stoep vertoewemy kaal voete op jou koffietafel sit
saam met jou kuier tot die dag min raak
sien hoe jou groot ou akker mooier raak
in die laatmiddagson
ek wil tot binne in die skemer praat en praat
of net sit en luister
sonder om te hoef probeer minder dom
of meer slim wees
sommer net daar sit en myself wees
saam met jou wat net jouself is
ek wil so graag weer ń bietjie
op jou stoep kom sit
So Gandy left us on Thursday.
I thought I heard a click of his claws on the floor,
And thought of him, going through the door
On his way to join Malcolm and Moo.
A perky even frisky fellow, not quite a gent.
In fact quite a scruff, curly and unkempt
In a laddish, charming way.
Frolic was his second name;
Good company and well behaved,
Whenever he came to stay.
The skip in your step and hop on the bed
Gave birth to grins and forgiveness of sins.
Thank you for all the comfort and joy,
We are poorer without you dear old boy.
(Be warned: you may be horrified and disturbed by this article. It’s about abortion and execution. Maybe you should skip it?)
I read a recent report on the execution of a murderer in South Dakota. The wife of the murderer’s victim said it was a peaceful and sterile death, not like that of her husband who died in a pool of blood with his head bashed in.
The murderer had been serving a life sentence for attempted murder and kidnapping when he killed a prison guard in an attempted escape. The appeal process had taken seven years.
In the same online news website there was a report from a woman who had an abortion at the age of 16. Her outrage was directed at the doctors who were clinical and distant, when questioning a sixteen-year-old to confirm that she didn’t want to continue the pregnancy. She felt that wasn’t simply unkind, it was cruel, so the law on abortion should be changed to unchecked abortion on demand.
That stirred some sort of turmoil in me.
I believe in the death penalty, just not the inhuman delay between sentence and execution. Some murderers cannot be rehabilitated and need to be removed from society. Imprisonment is cruel and costly. It is not right that society should be forever burdened by the cost of prisons.
Soon (if not already) it will be possible to monitor every persons’ movements. Everyone will need a permanent unalterable identity marker in order to transact any business, access the internet or enter buildings.
Vicious criminals could have this identity revoked and be restricted to isolated regions; (Mars comes to mind). If they defy the restrictions they could be taken out by armed drone guards. They would have to regulate themselves and produce their own food and produce to sell for a livelihood.
Thieves and perverts can be electronically marked so that everyone knows them as such and they can be prevented from entering specified areas.
The thought of unchecked abortion on demand for sixteen year olds fills me with horror. I am not against abortion. There needs to be some interrogation and education involved. Surely getting an abortion is more serious a thing than buying a puppy?
What I am against is free and easy abortion – Vegas wedding chapel type abortion options:
- Your surgeon/abortionist could be an Elvis look alike and champagne will be served to celebrate your freedom to be fucking stupid again!
- Would you prefer an abortifacient that induces abortion. (Abortifacients for animals that have mated undesirably are known as mismating shots – how cute!)
- or a suction curette to cut and suck it out?
- Every third abortion is free through Eezy Abortion Clinics
Mind you, I am not against sterilization of the irresponsible and castration of rapists either.
Just as well I didn’t become a judge!
I spell the word with a capital letter. A Patriot to me has always been a person worthy of the highest praise, possessed of the highest virtues.
Until yesterday, when I saw the title of a photograph in an exhibition that I visited with my daughter. It was one of a series of photographs depicting the “unite the right” rally in Charlottesville, USA. The picture was of a bearded older man in camouflage, clutching a rifle with a sort of blank fervour in his eyes.
I am conservative, a white male (oh dear!) with, I hope, a modicum of balance and perspective. But I didn’t like that label, nor could I criticise it. I talked with my daughter, a teacher, about it. I mentioned that I had once written about the need for the institution of learning about the cardinal virtues and the need for iconic models for our youth and that my view had been criticised. What virtues could beat Courage, Prudence, Temperance and Justice, as proposed by St Thomas Aquinas?
She responded obliquely in the way of the New Age; not contradicting but offering a different viewpoint. She felt that diversity was the key and that inclusiveness and tolerance would yield a good basis for future societal foundations. I felt my gorge rise with hot words of … watering down values and standards to reach a common denominator that would suit all which would not be a standard at all, which was the fault of liberal democracy and… and …
But I stifled them, stumped by the thought that she was probably right and that I was a dinosaur, out of time and that my steam would be obsolete and silly.
Anyway Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Mao Ze Dong, Pol Pot and Robert Mugabe were probably Patriots too!
If you have a puncture while cycling, it will be in the proximity of the furthest point from home.
Being a disciplined thinker, I didn’t invoke any special inference the last time I had a puncture just after I turned to go home and had to walk 2 miles to get there. However, it seemed more than coincidence when I had a puncture yesterday, just 100 metres from where I turned to go home. This time it was a 4 mile walk.
Maybe next time it will be 8 miles from home… except that I am going to carry one of those puncture fix kits from now on!
Just as well for that bit of reverse fortune, as the black dog had slunk in for a sombre lurk and the enforced march cleared the air; black dogs don’t like competition, so it slunk off!
I think it slipped in with my tax return. This is my 4th year of involuntary unemployment, so I have little to distract the taxman with. That doesn’t make completion of the form any easier! One would think that by now the Revenue dudes would have worked out an idiot proof format so that any dummy could complete a return…
But… wait… maybe they did … and my brain has atrophied to super-idiot size…! See how easily the black dog slinks in? Its the government’s fault and I don’t have a vote even though I do pay tax…. rage can get the endorphins flowing nearly as well as exercise!
My consolation is that I have time to enjoy the birds making their nests and write wonderful books about myself and sniff the subtle anisescent of the spring flowering mimosa on the wattle trees.
Of great joy right now is the bright colours of my nasturtiums, which are nearly my favourite flowers now, especially as they are entirely edible: flowers, leaves and seeds
Hmmm… maybe I should be finding a new project to distract me – this design by IKEA caught my eye:
It’s a flat-pack garden farm of the future – I have the plans if anyone wants to build one: all you need is a saw, hammer and a screwdriver.
Or maybe this is more your style?
Whatever – the point is that we all need to start growing our own vegetables…
My sister, who is a Sistah if you know what I mean, takes offence at the usage of the word lady, to wit: The common use of lady referring to woman is pretentious, bourgeoise, obsequious, euphemious, ignorant and incorrect.
That statement of facts is a perception, not factual, and is contentious.
Dictionary.com states the origin of the word woman was Old English wīfman, equivalent to wīf female + man
language: a feminist guide states ‘lady’ was the female analogue of ‘lord’, and it can still be a title for the wife or daughter of an aristocrat. But it has undergone a process known as ‘semantic derogation’, where the female term in a male-female pair gets downgraded in status. ‘Lady’ was initially downgraded to apply to bourgeois women as well as aristocrats. Later, it became a polite way to refer to a woman of any social class.
Usage in society changed: formerly ‘woman’ was regarded as demeaning and ‘lady’ was the term of courtesy; now ‘woman’ is the designation preferred by some modern female adults. The word ‘lady has been perceived as a classist tool to divide society.
I remain divided. When I use the word ‘lady’, I do not intend it to convey disrespect for a female. However, I would not be respectful if I persisted in addressing my Sistah as a lady, so I will avoid doing so; but I reject her right to require me to do so generically to all women.
That is my choice.
Emily Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward wrote in 1873: Burn up the corsets! … No, nor do you save the whalebones, you will never need whalebones again. Make a bonfire of the cruel steels that have lorded it over your thorax and abdomens for so many years and heave a sigh of relief, for your emancipation I assure you, from this moment has begun.
I can’t fault her viewpoint and admire her radical standpoint. Women are in no way inferior beings and I wholeheartedly support their rights to equal treatment and demands for the removal of impediments to social, economic and political and any other type of equality they seek.
Womens’ struggle against centuries of cultural domination is justified.
Most men educated in the European norm agree, I am sure. Not sure about African, Arab or Asian men, though.
I did continue but in retrospect, discerned that what I wrote was not respectful, so I cut it out.
This guy writes a lot of stuff that I think. I don’t think we are specialthough… but sometimes maybe wannabe?
“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things.”― Henry David Thoreau
I would consider myself a disciple of HDT (sorry to all you JC followers). I have spent my entire life wondering if I am special or ifI am living my life in “quiet desperation” as Henry David described.Honestly, I think the later.
I will make the natural assumption that to a handful of people I am “special”, tomy wife (most days), my children (all days), my…
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These are my thoughts too – better written by you!
“When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.” – Tecumseh
It’s easy sometimes to overlook everything that we have to be thankful for. We are quick to get bogged down in the minutiae of living, what we classify as an ordinary and dull existence. We simply take the life we have for granted. We compare it to the post we see from our “friends” on Facebook. But we forget that they are only showing us the good parts. There are people all over the world, and in our own backyard, that would trade our boring lives for the life they are experiencing and living right at this moment.
In Chattanooga, TN., five children were killed in…
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