Archive for December, 2009



21
Dec
09

Movie Review: Avatar

I’d be lying if I said I knew where to start when it comes to writing this review. How do you dissect a world so carefully created and beautifully rendered? I feel like a biologist standing scalpel in hand over the body of one of the fantastical creatures featured in Avatar, with absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

 

 

For starters, let me tell you why movies like Avatar usually fail to impress me, because the reason is fairly simple. Usually in movies of this nature, where the protagonist is transported to another world and interacts with an alien species, that protagonist is some dorky, reluctant hero, usually a scientist who’s clumsy and bashful and unable to assert himself at the beginning of the movie, but who by the end has found the courage and fortitude to stand up to the bad guys and thus realise his own self worth.

Not so with Avatar. The protagonist in the movie is a marine, Jake Sully (played by Australian actor Sam Worthington) a grunt who is paralysed in combat back on Earth, but decides to stay in service when the army offers to recruit him for the project his twin brother was working on on the distant planet of Pandora.

Jake is instantly likeable as a character because of how he refuses to let his disability affect his life in any way. It’s part of the magic that writer and director James Cameron (who’s previous bests include Terminator 2 and Titanic) weaves to lure you into the world of Avatar.

It’s a fairly straightforward premise, if you can get the audience to connect with your protagonist as early as possible in the film, they will follow him, become emotionally invested in him and thus become emotionally invested in the film itself.

Well, from his opening lines as he comes out of cryonic suspension after the trip to Pandora, I liked Jake Sully.

 

 

From there, Cameron starts setting the stage for this epic ‘space opera’ as some critics have called it and in a series of well executed opening scenes we learn that the humans who have arrived and set up military headquarters on Pandora have done so because they want to mine a mineral called ‘unobtainium’.

The largest deposit of this mineral on the planet occurs right underneath a gigantic, 150 meter tall tree (known as the ‘Hometree’) where a tribe of the local inhabitants, an alien species called the Na’vi, have lived in peace for thousands of years.

In an attempt to learn their culture, gain favour with them and ultimately persuade them to move so that mining operations can begin, human scientists developed the Avatar program whereby human and Na’vi DNA is combined to create Na’vi bodies that have identical neural structures to their human counterparts, thus making it possible to transfer a human mind into a Na’vi body.

Jake is chosen for the program because his twin brother’s DNA was used to create an Avatar at great cost to the military and so, instead of letting the Avatar go to waste, they decide to use Jake to ‘drive’ it and act as a bodyguard to Dr Grace Augustine (Sigorney Weaver) in her efforts to re-connect with the Na’vi and further her peaceful attempts to learn as much as possible about Pandora, the Na’vi and their culture.

 

 

Once Cameron has laid these basic foundations, believe me, you will be more than willing to follow him anywhere. My disbelief was suspended in less than 10 minutes into the film and from that point I willingly let myself become completely immersed in the breath-takingly beautiful world that is Pandora.

I watched Avatar in 3D and the most amazing thing about the experience is that when I think back on it, I don’t remember it as a movie, but rather like some kind of intensely beautiful dream I had.

Everything on the planet of Pandora is connected through a kind of biological neural network, a system where energy is consciously transferred, conserved and shared in a far more efficient way than the synthesized manner in which humans do it.

Thus a kind of perfect balance is achieved and almost effortlessly maintained, that is, until humans arrive and fuck everything up.

The jungles of Pandora are like nothing you have ever seen before, they are literally teeming with thousands of plant and animal species. At night the jungles light up with glowing phosphorescent algae and plants, making everything look like the best imaginable acid trip anyone could ever wish for.

 

 

Avatar is also one of those rare movies where you are never bored watching it. With every scene, the movie turns, the stakes are raised and you are drawn further and further into the story.

What’s also rare about Avatar is the fact that at the movie’s climax you really, really hate the humans and everything they stand for, which is a stroke of genius on Cameron’s part because Avatar is actually a powerful piece of social commentary about mankind’s propensity toward ignorance and destruction and our complete detachment with the natural world.

Sam Worthington does an adequate job of playing Jake Sully, however, his American accent slips continuously throughout the movie, which can be a bit irritating if you pick it up. Sigorney Weaver really shines in her role as Dr Augustine though, the no nonsense biologist with a genuine interest in the well-being and preservation of the Na’vi people, but my favourite actor in the movie was Stephen Lang, who plays Security Chief Miles Quaritch.

You just can’t help but admire Lang’s character because the sunuvabitch just. Doesn’t. Die. He’s a giant asshole throughout the movie, but when it comes time to kill he opens up a can o’ whupass that would leave John McClane whimpering in a corner.

 

 

Zoë Saldaña also puts on a noteworthy performance as Neytiri, the princess of the Na’vi tribe (and yes, there is actually a person acting underneath all the blue-skinned CGI) and Michelle Rodriguez is excellent as Trudy Chacon, the badass, wise-cracking marine pilot who sides with Jake and the Na’vi when the shit starts hitting the fan.

As for the plotline itself, there are people out there who are criticising it for being overused, but to all those naysayers, all I can say is open your eyes. Hollywood only has 32 scripts that it keeps on permanent rotation, EVERY Hollywood blockbuster follows a plotline that is overused, they have no choice because if you completely discard the structure and formula of the genre in which you’re working there’s an 80% chance mainstream audiences will hate your film.

Cameron’s execution of what has become a fairly standard Hollywood story of zero to hero is immaculate and from a structural point of view, he hits every story beat perfectly and keeps the story lean and mean from start to finish.

Trust me, you will walk out of Avatar emotionally drained in the best possible way, you will marvel at how powerful Cameron’s imagination is and most important of all, you will come out of that theatre thoroughly entertained.

In a world of over-sensationalised violence and gratuitous sex in films that are badly scripted and haphazardly constructed, Avatar really stands out as a piece of film that, even if it’s in a small way, makes the world of film and popular entertainment a better place.

To sum up, my Girlfriend, J-Rab said it best – this movie will leave images in your mind that you will be happy to look back on and for that reason alone, I would highly recommend watching it.

 

 

Final Verdict: 9/10

-ST

20
Dec
09

Johnny Cash and the lazy SUnday

Johnny Cash found me sometime during my second year at varsity and we became pals.

 

 

I think the first song of his that I really dug was ‘A Boy Named Sue’. That song strikes a chord with me, if fact any piece of literature, music or film that deals with troubled father/son relationships resounds with me.

Also, the song was fucking badass. Here are the lyrics:

“A Boy Named Sue”:

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn’t leave much for ma and me 
‘Cept this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don’t blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o’ thought that it was quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a’ lot of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I’d get red
And some guy’d laugh and I’d bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain’t easy for a boy named "Sue."
 
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fists got hard and my wits got keen,
I roamed from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I’d search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
I’d just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I’d stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother’d had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is ‘Sue!’ How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a’ gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I’ve fought tougher men
But I really can’t remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin’ at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man’s gonna make it, he’s gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn’t be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you’d have to get tough or die
And it’s the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya gut and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the motherfucker that named you "Sue.’"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I’m gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

 

I love it! ‘I knew you’d have to get tough or die’ – classic! ‘Kickin and a gougin in the blood and the mud and the beer.’ That’s the only way to fight.

That’s what real fights turn into, just watch UFC Fighting – in most fights, they’ll go to ground and the one guy will try and squeeze the living shit out of the other guy, or just pummel him in the head as hard and often as possible and THEN pop his shoulder out of its socket.

 

 

But anyway, I digest.

What was today like? How did it begin and how did it progress from that point? What did we learn from it? How will it be remembered 20 years from now?

Will it be remembered 20 years from now? Sure it will 😉

I jumped like a jack-in-the-box out of bed at 9:25 and started furiously cleaning the flat. Landlord was coming over to do something or other he’s had planned for a few weeks now. Without getting into too much detail, it involved steel skirting brackets, hot glue and waterproof silicone putty.

I just kinda looked on in confusement, but not for long. Landlord usually has these things all figured out and he doesn’t need any help, so I don’t offer any. Instead I knuckled down and got in some solid game-time with Torchlight which is a must for any Diablo fans out there I mean, it was developed by a few of the team that actually worked on Diablo so it’s got a really cool look and feel and for $20 it’s really worth it.

Ok, how was that? Nailed it? The sales pitch, nailed it? Damn straight I nailed it 🙂

Meanwhile, outside the sun shone like nobody’s business, hot and clear, not really a breeze at all. Fuck, it was a perfect summer day. Leaves shone above us, the heat shimmered, the sun felt like it was filling me up, like I was a battery charging.

 

 

Fuck, the minute I’m on leave and it’s sunny I’m heading up to the pool to chill to the max. You guys can come too, but bring your own booze and LSD. You aren’t allowed any of mine, remember what happened last time? Yeah, exactly.

J-Rab and I had the funniest fucking Christmas Shopping outing at Design Quarter. Like I said yesterday, I’ve pretty much finished up the Christmas shopping for my folks, the only thing left to get were these Maxwell Williams mugs my old lady wanted.

I saw them at a Boardman’s yesterday and thought they were pretty average so I decided to get Ritzenhof mugs for her instead, hence the trip to the Design Quarter.

We parked out in front of the DQ, in the hot sun and walked down the parking lot toward the shops. As we got near the end of the parking lot we both saw this kickass huge ad on the side of the Nike store there with a golfer crouching and blowing fire and while his buddy hits a ball through it on a golf course at night time.

I must admit, I was pretty entrance by it, but not quite as much as J-Rab who walked right into the curb. I just heard this abrupt scuffing sound and felt her grip my hand tight as she stumbled and then was like ‘I’m cool, I’m cool’ as she went back for her flip flop.

I laughed my ass off and she was a little embarrassed, but I said, ‘Fuck it, it’s not like the place is completely packed FULL of people or anything."’

Of course, it was packed to the rafters, hahaahah!

 

 

Then we find that Ritzenhof moved away probably over two years ago. Fahk! Luckily J-Rab said to just walk around and see if we could find another place that sold mugs like that and what the fuck did we find? A Boardman’s in Design Quarter, a MASSIVE one!

They had way more variety when it came to these Maxwell mugs so we found cool ones for my old lady.

After that we noticed a whole bunch of upmarket food stalls had been set up in the centre courtyard and went to take a look.

There was this really cool honey stall that we made a bee-line (fuck, read that last bit slowly, yes, I just did that) straight for. When we got there, the lady behind the stall gave us these short yellow straws and asked us if we wanted to taste the honey.

She had part of a honeycomb there, dripping with the stuff, so we dipped out straws in and tasted some of the raw honey and damn, it was sweet and rich and good.

 

 

As J-Rab was tasting, the wind blew the corner of the tablecloth up so she carefully pulled it down again not realising that one of the small glass pots of honey had gotten stuck and tumbled gently down in the fold of the tablecloth.

To J-Rab’s credit, she caught the pot before it fell and broke on the ground, but by then about a third of the honey inside had dribbled all down the tablecloth and was already making it’s slow and syrupy way toward the floor.

She quickly put the honey pot back on the table and apologised, laughing nervously. The couple standing next to us looked on mild horror at the gloopy mess of honey, I laughed, ‘I swear to God, you can’t take her anywhere!’

J-Rab and I laughed and bought the nice honey lady’s mead ever though she wasn’t phased at all. Good stuff that mead actually, it’s called Honey Sun mead and damn! It’s worth every cent of the 85 bucks we paid for it.

We had lunch at the ‘rents after that and swam a little, nothing too amazing to report there. After that we came home and had a nap and now I’m banging this out and watching Die Hard 2, which is such a killer movie and definitely the best part of Christmas every time it rolls around.

 

 

John McClane – that man is the best kind of action hero. So many others have fucked up both the genre of action movies and the heroes themselves, but good ol’ McClane was the original and Bruce’s portrayal of him is totally flawless.

He’s so cool because he gets fucked up. He makes fuck ups, by the end of all the movies, he’s cut up, punched up and shot up but he just doesn’t fucking die. Just like the name says!

But now it’s time to knuckle down and saw a couple logs.

Later party people 🙂

-ST

19
Dec
09

The Saturday Post (Brought to you by SlickTiger)

Thunder is grumbling as I write this and a steady fall of lazy summer rain is drenching the world outside. But here inside there is only quiet and calm as I lie like a big lazy lizard on my girlfriend and she dozes peaceful and warm underneath me.

 

 

Today was a frenzy of Christmas shopping and I’m really happy we got a lot of it out the way. My family is small up here in Joeys so I really just have to worry about presents for the folks and something radass for J-Rab.

I already have it all planned out – what I’m gonna give her, how it’s all gonna pan out and I think it’s going to be the best Christmas ever 🙂

 

 

But I gotta run, Graumpot and M-Class just arrived and they’ll think I’m rude if I just lie here, blogging naked.

Later party people 🙂

-ST

18
Dec
09

If you think your company is rad, think again

I really don’t have much today guys, I’m sorry. 2009 is basically over, I seriously doubt there are many people left actually working right now except for a handful of poor saps like me (says the guy who has no leave left because he used it all up in July / August when he spent 3 weeks in the Algarve in Portugal, yeah, who’s jealous now bitch!).

Ahem! Where was I…?

Oh yeah, so I feel bad because I haven’t written one of those soppy year-end ‘My life in 2009’ or maybe ‘Highlights of 2009’ or even just ‘Please fuck off 2009’ posts, but hey, there’s still another 13 days left of this big, ugly bastard so maybe I’ll get around to it in the space between Xmas and New Year when I’m on leave.

Ahh, leave. Sweet, sweet summer leave. I think I’m going to spend my time off redesigning this site a little, tweaking stuff here and there, adding more pages, making the whole experience more streamlined.

Otherwise I just really want to read and lie in the sun and do as little as possible. Good times 😉

So, with no further ado, lemme show you why my company is 10 times radder than yours could ever be.

May I present to you the newest member of Tribeca PR, Bella:

 

 

Then I came up with an ingenious method of finishing those last few drops of milk that are always left in my cereal bowl:

 

 

Promptly thereafter puppy-lups decided to take a well deserved time out after her exciting morning:

 

 

Guys, it doesn’t get much cuter than that. Remember when life was that simple? Those were good times I tell ya.

Have a killer weekend, good luck with the Xmas shopping and I’ll catch you all for a long, killer Saturday Post tomorrow.

-ST

17
Dec
09

My Top 5 Calvin & Hobbes Christmas Cartoons

There really isn’t much going on today. The office is totally dead and to be honest it’s pretty damn depressing, so I’ve been doing what I always do when I get depressed, reading Calvin & Hobbes!

In my opinion Calvin & Hobbes is the best comic strip that was ever written. Bill Watterson did mankind a huge favour by drawing and writing these stories about a kid genius and his imaginary tiger friend.

And so I thought I’d share my Top 5 Calvin & Hobbes Christmas Cartoons with you guys cause I’m your imaginary tiger friend and it seemed fitting 😉

Once you’ve read these, you have to visit this site:

http://progressiveboink.com/archive/calvinhobbes.htm 

It’s the 25 best Calvin & Hobbes strips all collected and annotated, but it’s the annotations that really struck a chord in me. Take the following excerpt for example, it perfectly sums up why I love Calvin and have always identified 100% with him:

“If you think about it, Calvin was really quite an anomaly in popular entertainment — not just in comics, but in anything, be it movies, TV, etc. He has no friends, and no extracurricular activities; the only people he ever sees are his parents, who he has a strained relationship with, and Moe, Susie, Rosalyn, and Miss Wormwood, all of whom he detests and all of whom detest him. The only person he ever has any real interaction with exists only in his head. He is, for all intents and purposes, completely alone. And he’s fine with that. The kind of kid most people would entirely ignore all through school is not generally the kind you make the star of your show, and yet the strip became hugely successful.

I know that people of all ages enjoyed Calvin and Hobbes, but I have to think that it meant even more to those of us who grew up with him. Going to school every day and seeing all the ways we didn’t fit in, it was nice to see someone like us, who was intelligent and independent, and didn’t need to be a smile-plastered Mouseketeer to enjoy life. Though numerous motivational posters and guidance councelors and after-school specials had said it again and again, it was Calvin who managed to truly express the idea—without being preachy, without being sappy, perhaps even without trying—that it was okay to be different.”

Enough preamble! Here are my five favourite Calvin & Hobbes Christmas cartoons, enjoy 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my all-time favourite Calvin & Hobbes Christmas cartoon:

 

 

-ST

16
Dec
09

Car Wreck

Today’s a public holiday so J-Rab and I slept in late, but at about 10.30 a white BMW crashed right through the perimeter wall of our complex.

J-Rab and I jerked awake, but it wasn’t until J-Rab left the house later to get groceries that she saw the car wreck, parked halfway through the wall.

I only saw it this afternoon, chunks of cement and glass and the spikes that used to be on top of the wall all twisted and useless on the ground.

 

 

I stared at the mess in front of me for a long while. I tried to figure out what might have caused the accident, but I couldn’t. The security guard now posted at our new entrance wasn’t much help either.

‘Hey man, were you here when this happened?’

‘Eh?’

‘Were you here when this happened?’

‘i-Yes’

‘Was the person OK? The person driving the car?’

‘Eh, what?’

‘Was the person driving the car OK? Did you see him?’

‘Eh, no. I wasn’t here when it happened.’

I walked back to the flat. I thanked whatever Gods may be that it wasn’t me in that wreck. I’ve been in enough wrecks in my life and yes, I have the scars to prove it.

Last night was a whole other circus. What started off as a civilised soiree in our flat with Graumpot and M-Class and a COLOSSAL plate of 60 pieces of sushi degenerated over the course of the next few hours to a scene that could have been stolen right outta Jerry Springer.

 

 

We decided to go to Jolly Cool’s to shoot some pool, have a few drinks, nothing too crazy.

We arrived, put some coins down on a table of four dudes playing and asked if they could give us a shout when their game was done so we could play.

Of course 20 mins later I go back to the tables and they’ve started the next game and completely ignored us. So we stand by the table and wait for them to finish their game and when they do, the fuckers put another coin in and play another game while we just stand by and watch.

‘Fuck these guys,’ I said to J-Rab, ‘let’s go to Defcon4.’

The easiest way to fuck up a guy’s shot when he’s playing is to get a girl to either stare at his ass as he bends to take a shot, stand in front of him as he’s taking the shot and show maximum cleavage or have a girl make snide remarks behind his back that are just loud enough for him to hear every time he fucks up a shot.

 

 

I call this Defcon4. J-Rab played her part perfectly and soon enough the guys were playing the most shocking game of pool I’ve seen in ages.

Awesome. Now they were on our level.

We sauntered up to the table after they were finally done and started shooting a game to decide who keeps the table. All I can say is thank fuck Graum was on my side cause I sank nothing. I was too interested in man handling J-Rab between shots to really give a shit about the game.

Coolest thing though was that Graum cleaned up for us and got us onto the black ball while they still had a ball on the table. I walk up to play my shot. It’s a total mess, I can’t see any pockets and can’t double the black ball either because their ball is in the way.

Fuck it. I hardly even aim as I slam the white right into the black and their ball and KAPOW! sink the black and win the game.

For the next five minutes I was a hero. Five minutes after that the douchebags left.

Too-de-loo muthufukkus.

We shot another couple of games, Guitar Jon and The Glaze joined us, good times were had by all until this crazy bitch in a green top started throwing glasses and other assorted bar paraphernalia at this black girl who the green top girl had decided, for whatever reason, it was her mission in life to kill.

That’s when we knew it was hometime.

Now we’re gonna make some noms for supper, chill with a movie and enjoy the good life on this breezy, warm and beautiful summer evening.

Until tomorrow.

-ST

15
Dec
09

Let’s have a round of applause for Mr Loserpants

The first thing you learn about being a SlickTiger is that it’s impossible to be Slick ALL THE TIME, sometimes you’re just a regular Tiger and sometimes, well sometimes you are Mr Loserpants.

 

 

I feel like Mr Loserpants today because I’m not going anywhere on holiday. Yeeesss yeesss, thaatttss right, laugh, laugh at Mr Loserpants.

This will be the first time in something like five years that I’m actually going to stay in Joburg for Xmas and New Year and not go on a badass adventure somewhere.

I love roadtripping. There’s nothing better than striking out there in your car, hitting the open roads and just driving until all the buildings and skyscrapers fade away. Out there you’ll hear bird calls you never heard and at night when you look up a hundred thousand stars will shine back down on you.

 

 

I’m not a religious man, but I swear, if I had a night sky like that above me every night I could become one.

Out there at night you’ll be lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean washing up and down the shore and when you laugh it will be easy and it will feel good right deep down inside.

Your days will be spent in the sun, your skin will glow warm as you lounge on a towel, completely immersed in a good book. You can take pleasure in the simple things out there, it’s ok, I won’t tell anyone 😉

You will be free and easy out there, all the shit back here, it won’t matter anymore and you shouldn’t fucking let it.

What I want from you, more than anything else while you’re on holiday, is to imagine a world where we can, all of us, be on holiday all the time. A world where we are not forced into office cubicles in artificial environments all day to breathe in other people’s farts and have to put up with their shitty moods.

You, me, and everyone else that reads, understands and enjoys this blog is better than that.

Make no mistake brothers and sisters, we’re building an arc here, we’re separating the chaff from the grain, this is fucking important. This is fucking important because I know there’s a life everyone one of us wishes we were living instead of the one we are, and fuck, I want you to live that life and I know the only thing stopping you from living that life is balls.

You need bigger balls.

 

 

Hell, so do I, but I’m working on it and I want you to work on it too. There’s something you’re afraid of doing right now, it’s lurking in the back of your mind, maybe you’ve been putting it off for a day, maybe you’ve been putting it off for a year or longer.

Do that thing now. Right now. Today. Stop fucking around and reading this and go do that thing.

Tomorrow we can meet up back here and you can tell me all about it.

Keep on truckin’ 😉

-ST

14
Dec
09

The New Miss SA might Be a Cyborg…

We were flipping randomly through TV channels last night when we came across the crucial last two minutes that were the Miss SA Pageant 2009. We missed the entire rest of the show, which was a pity – I would have loved to have heard this year’s winner, Nicole Flint being interviewed by the panel of judges because I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s a cyborg.

 

 

Wikipedia defines a cyborg as ‘is a cybernetic organism (i.e., an organism that has both artificial and natural systems).’ Many have argued that cyborgs are the next step in human evolution, as they represent a kind of perfect union between humans and machines, an occurrence that is referred to as ‘the singularity’ (Ray Kurzweil was one of the first dudes to define the term).

It’s actually scary how close we’ve come to designing realistic artificial intelligence. Right now, machines have two massive advantages over humans when it comes to ‘thinking’ – they have perfect recall (well, until their hard drives fail) and they can process computations at speeds way beyond human brains.

 

 

The only major problem machines have is that their ability to recognise patterns is severely limited in comparison to human brains. This extends into all facets of life – a human can observe a certain phenomenon occurring at a certain place and time and use all that information to predict that this incidence could occur again if similar variables come into play again.

For example, I could observe a car accident that has happened at the corner of William Nicol and Sandton Drive in the early hours of a rainy Saturday morning and the first thing that goes through my head is ‘Holy shit, I need to stay the hell away from this intersection in the early hours of the morning when it’s raining or I could end up like those guys.’

For me, this prediction was effortless, all I employed was a fairly basic degree of common sense based on a set of circumstances I observed and my ability to read the pattern of those circumstances. Machine intelligence would struggle to arrive at the same outcome I did in that situation.

Sure, a machine could tell me the exact speed the cars were travelling, the angle at which they collided, the trajectory of the collided cars, the force of the impact, but the machine would struggle to process ALL of the information of the accident and be able to instantly recognise the patterns inherent in the accident and understand their meaning.

This is why it is unlikely that machines will ever be able to understand or experience human emotions, and that was the first clue I picked up as to why the new Miss SA might be a cyborg.

 

 

The three finalists of the pagaent, Matapa Malla 24, from Johannesburg, Lisa van Zyl, 23 year old from Cape Town and Nicole Flint 21, from Pretoria sat on stage as they announced this year’s winner, each one of them smiling flawlessly, betraying no emotion whatsoever.

Fair enough, as a  beauty queen I’m sure you spend countless years learning not to show any kind of real emotion, but then the thing that really blew my mind was when they announced Flint as the winner, her smile remained completely fixed throughout.

Call me old school, but I preferred it when the winners covered their pretty little faces with their immaculately manicured hands and at least shed one or two little tears of sheer joy and nervous excitement. I mean seriously, it’s not a beauty pageant unless the winner has a bit of a cry, or am I way off the mark here?

 

 

Don’t get me wrong, I think ol’ Nicole Flint definitely deserved to win, I mean hell’s bells, she’s a good looking woman, but she was so damn controlled throughout it looked like she was wandering around in a walking Prozac-induced coma.

Don’t be surprised people, if amongst other news headlines about Castor Semenya being transgendered and Julius Malema being trans-specied, we read that Nicole Flint IS THE 6 MILLION RAND WOMAN!

Don’t say I didn’t warn you 😉

-ST

13
Dec
09

near-death sunday

There are some Sundays that come around and kick you arse so hard you wish you could go back in time and undo the chaos you got caught up in the night before.

At sometime around 7 this morning a feeling started burning inside me like my guts were on fire. It rose steadily up my throat, roasting me alive inch by inch as whatever evil concoction I’d mixed in my stomach last night fought desperately to see the light of day.

When I feel like this, I know I’m in for a rough two hours. I got a hiatus hernia that probably needs fixing, I saw a doctor about it awhile back and he gave me some meds to fix it, but if I don’t take this pill at the same time everyday, even if I’m a few hours out, I start to suffer.

Then if I take the meds, it flares up before it gets better and for about two hours I feel like I’m being burnt alive by industrial strength acid from the inside out.

In my head I remember Alien, specifically the scene where they try and cut the alien off Kane (John Hurt) when it first attaches to his face and they find out that its blood is so corrosive it eats through two floors.

 

 

That’s what I reckon would happen if you cut me when my reflux is bad.

J-Rab got up to go to work and then visit the place where she used to work so she could see her buddy ol’ pal, the Siberian Tiger Baloo. I lay in bed and entertained thoughts that I might actually have died the night before and was now in hell.

I ate my way through half a pack of Rennies, a double dose of my meds and two of the painkillers they gave after my shoulder operation to try and knock my headache out.

On mornings like these, the Kris Kristofferson song ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’ becomes the story of my life:

“Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An’ I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An’ stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I’d smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I’d been pickin’.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin’ at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
‘n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin’ chicken.
And it took me back to somethin’,
That I’d lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cos there’s something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’,
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin’ little girl who he was swingin’.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin’.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin’.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cos there’s something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’,
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

Do do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do.

To fade

I mean, how excellent is that song? Read it, really read those fucking lyrics! ‘Do do do do do do do do’! Have you ever heard a more compelling call to action?! Do! DO!

 

 

So anyway, eventually the couch healed me, don’t ask me how, but by just sitting upright on it for about an hour, staring at the TV even though it was off, I slowly started to feel better and better and last night slowly swam into focus.

Probably the first thing that came back was me asking one of Graumpot’s Indian guests at his housewarming braai yesterday if she had any black heritage. I mean c’mon! That’s a perfectly innocuous question right? Right?

No. Not right. Wrong. Apparently she spent the rest of the night asking everyone if she looked black in this desperate, paranoid kind of way. I did not mean to upset her in any way, but ended up probably ruining her evening.

Oops.

Otherwise I behaved well. Also, I came up with a new stroke of genius when it comes to remembering the crazy thoughts I have so I can blog about them later, I use this advanced piece of technology called the ‘voice recorder’ on my cell phone.

I just opened my voice files from yesterday and came across the following:

1. ‘Terminator car. Running from right through the car window, around the back and into the left rear view mirror. Stop’

2. ‘We gotta get out of this place’ playing on Graum’s car stereo.

3. A note to write a letter to Josh Homme and post it on my site. This is the gayest idea I’ve ever had.

4. An interview with Graum’s girlfriend M-Class while she was making potato salad with bacon.

5. My attempt at trying to get everyone at the party to tell me their nick names. Fail.

So yeah, great idea there Slick. Life changing stuff. Dun duuunnnnnn!

I drank a bottle of brandy last night, basically put the entire bottle down except for an inch on the bottom. I drank it with coke, which is what I think triggered the intense heartburn this morning.

Remember kids, don’t do what Tiger-Don’t does. Drinking an entire bottle of brandy is never, ever a good idea. It’s a miracle that asking a girl if one of her folks was black is the only thing I did.

J-Rab came late cause she had her office Christmas party and I was so happy to see her, I followed her into the bathroom and hugged her legs while she was trying to pee. Much hilarity ensued. About half an hour later I curled up in her lap (my happy place) and passed out.

It was good to see Graum and M-Class though, they just finished doing a TEFL course so they’ve been scarce over the past few weeks. Peggles and PGF were also there, they didn’t get too fucked up though cause this morning they wanted to go cycling (?)

Good people, good times.

Now it’s Sunday evening and I’m keen to hit the sack and start sawing a couple logs.

Later masturbators 😉

-ST

12
Dec
09

The Saturday post brought to you by: SlickTiger

Hello. And welcome. To the Saturday Post with me, your faithful scribe and host, SlickTiger.

Today saw a high incidence of waking up at around 10 o’clock and pottering around.

So said a recent study conducted by ST Enterprises. Action Jackson, or in field correspondent this morning, may or may not have said the following:

“The general vibe was chilled.  Coffee was drunk, media changed hands. Good times.”

After this co-reporter J-Rab and your host embarked on a Round The Zoo Lake boat ride, stacked with Windhoek Beer and froo-froo girly drinks.

The day was calm and sunny, with clouds hanging overhead. Ducks floated noiselessly around the lake, people walked their dogs.

 

 

But NOW excitement abounds as the Tiger heads to an INSANE housewarming.

Stay tuned…

-ST