As we are heading into the round of 16 of the FIFA World Cup, I feel obliged to post something that resembles a Blatant article, considering the demise of this blog seems likely.

Thankfully I didn’t hold out too much hope for Bafana Bafana in any case. I did, however, find myself uttering a few profanities when France scored that effing goal and I knew for sure that our ship was sunk. That being said, my eggs always lay in two other baskets: USA and the Netherlands. And I am proud to say that both of my baskets are through to the round of 16, unlike France and Italy. Cough, cough.

Now, like most of my compatriots, I bought into the “I was there” hype and spent R140 on my category 4 ticket for the England vs. USA game. We left Pretoria with plenty of time to spare and followed our noses (or rather, my Garmin) to Rustenburg for the game. I was assured that the Park ‘n Ride facilities would be easy to find, but I must admit that we did manage to get lost a couple of times. So either we are idiots or the organisers didn’t do a very good job of signposting. I prefer to think it’s the latter. After a few wrong turns and a fair amount of traffic, we finally found ourselves at the R104 East Park ‘n Ride facility in Rustenburg. We walked a fair distance to the buses, which were practically empty, and we found ourselves singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” along with a large group of American supporters on our way to the stadium. Thankfully we came prepared. Large American flags: Check. Revolutionary war flags and banners: Check. USA-appropriate attire: Check. Multiple printouts of US national anthem: Check.

When we arrived at the stadium, which I must say is quite a distance from the parking lot, we faced our first real challenge: trying to sneak in our non-regulation banner. You see, FIFA’s website clearly states that a flag may not exceed 2m in length, and the poles may not exceed 1cm in diameter. Our problem was a 4m-long banner with 2cm-thick plastic poles. This turned out not to be a problem at all, as the official at the entrance took no notice. I then walked through the metal-detectors with my bag on my back (due to poor instructions from the aforementioned official). She looked at me, annoyed, and said “You were supposed to put your bag on the tab… oh never mind.” So, to cut a short story even shorter, my bag was never searched. Great security.

Once inside the stadium everything was pretty well organised and I can’t complain too much, except for the minor fact that the scoreboards and screens weren’t working. For the first game at the stadium. Did they not think that this was an important thing to get right? So we spent the game trying to identify players from our (cheap) category 4 seats, with an announcement of the time and score over the PA system every 20 minutes. How professional. But despite this rather large inconvenience, the game was thoroughly entertaining, especially considering we were directly behind Robert Green when he made his disastrous goalkeeping blunder.

After the game we were in high spirits, but we were not high on spirits, which is more than I can say for many of the other supporters. We walked past an Englishman who was urinating in the middle of the street, with his penis in one hand and a cigar in the other. One American man was so drunk that he had lost his friends and had no idea where his car was parked. Problem was, we were lost too, so we couldn’t have been much help. We came out of a different exit to where we had gone in, and the signposting was so poor that we walked for 2 kilometres in the wrong direction. We just assumed that “R104 Parking” meant that we would find our way to the R104 East Park ‘n Ride. We would have asked for directions had  there been a great presence of officials to direct us. We eventually found our way back and then took an eternity to find an empty bus. But finding a bus was only half the problem, as all the buses were headed towards the crowd, and were thus completely gridlocked. A genius must have been behind this planning. Thankfully our bus driver actually was a genius, and he did a quick U-turn and away we went. The match had ended at 10:30 and we made it back to the parking lot after midnight. It then took half an hour to exit the parking lot due to some poorly-trained FIFA-outsourced officials who seemed unable to direct the traffic in any way, shape or form.

Once we were finally on the road back to Pretoria, we made the fatal error of deciding to go to the McDonald’s in Rustenburg. We couldn’t resist the temptation of unhealthy food after a long day filled with more unhealthy food. Big mistake. I’ve never seen so many people crammed into one McDonald’s in my life. So we left, stomachs unsatisfied, and made it back into the city at 3am. Of course, that didn’t stop us from making a 3:30am McDonald’s run.

So, in a nutshell, this has been my experience of the World Cup so far, apart from a blur of Shakira lip-syncing and the Italian team members bawling like babies. And I have two things to say before the World Cup is over.  The first is, I hope that Rustenburg’s Royal Bafokeng Stadium is a little better organised for the USA vs. Ghana game that I’m going to tomorrow night. The second is, “USA!!! USA!!! USA!!!”

]]> http://www.blatant.co.za/2010/06/misc/my-world-cup-experience-so-far/feed/ 0 http://www.blatant.co.za/2010/04/misc/rapes-of-wrath/ http://www.blatant.co.za/2010/04/misc/rapes-of-wrath/#comments Fri, 23 Apr 2010 16:14:17 +0000 Lauren http://www.blatant.co.za/?p=683

This week I received an e-mail forward claiming that there is a “new kind of rape” out there. I barely ever torture my friends and loved ones with e-mail forwards unless they have literally caused me to laugh out loud (which happened the other day when I watched this video). When it comes to “serious” e-mail forwards (those regarding new types of hijackings, rapes and murders), I usually delete them without even opening them. But this particular one caught my eye, not because it sounded even remotely plausible, but because I was incredibly curious. I mean, be honest, wouldn’t you open something if it was called “NEW KIND OF RAPE (LADIES BE WARNED PLEASE)”?

So I opened it. And what I found inside was plainly absurd. I found myself questioning the mental state of the person who had sent it to me. I actually cringe to think that one of my acquaintances could believe such utter garbage.

So here it is, completely unedited, for your entertainment:

NEW KIND OF RAPE (LADIES BE WARNED)

This is a true story.

The woman left the office after working hours and saw a little child crying on the road. Feeling pity for the child, she went to ask what happened. The child said, ‘I am lost. Can you take me home please?’ Then the child gave her a slip of paper and tells the woman where the address is. The woman, being an average kind person who didn’t suspect anything took the child there. And there when they arrived at the child’s home, the kind hearted woman pressed the door bell and she was electrocuted as the bell was wired with high voltage, and fainted.

The next day when she woke up, she found herself in an empty house up in the hills, naked. Condoms were all thrown around with semen all over her and flowing from her body. There were at least about 20 condoms! She had not even seen her assailants. That’s why nowadays crimes are targeted on kind people like her.

Next time if the same situation occurs, never bring the child to the intended place. If the child insists, then bring the child to the police station. Lost children are best sent to police stations!!!!!!

Please send this to all your female friends/colleagues, and your friends with girlfriends and friends with wives. It is better to receive this a thousand times then being    a victim once

Keep safe Ladies!

Please pass this on to family members. It is better to be informed. It is sad that we cannot even help children now!

When I was finally able to contain my laughter, I thought about what I had just read. A doorbell that electrocutes people. Really? REALLY? In South Africa? I’m sorry, but our criminals are just not that smart. And the only reason that I can think of for a rapist to use a condom is to avoid leaving DNA at the crime scene. Why on earth would he then choose to leave condoms lying around, with “semen all over her and flowing from her body”? “Flowing from her body” WTF!? No, seriously, WTF? Was she raped by a horse?

I simply don’t understand why people go to such great lengths to construct these elaborate hoaxes. What purpose do they serve? Do the writers get a sense of satisfaction when they increase the level of paranoia and panic in a country already riddled with crime? Or do they like the idea that they might scare off a few do-gooders from taking home a lost child?

I don’t think that I will ever quite understand the absurdity of the human race. But I did forward the rape e-mail, because boy oh boy, it made me LOL.

The Oscars are imminent! And my vote is in. My hypothetical vote, that is. Do you know how the voting for best picture works this time? The Academy is using instant run-off voting, which means that every voter writes down a list of the nominated films in their order of preference, all the number one slots are compared, and the worst loser gets eliminated from the running. All the ballots with the worst loser at number one then have to run with their second favourite choice, and the first movie to get a clear majority wins. So here’s my vote:

1. Inglorious Basterds – A true work of art. Every scene is a child of the cinematographic titans.

2. Up in the Air – Depressing and sprinkled with dark humour, it’s one I’ll remember.

3. District 9 – I love good satire and a fun story, if it hadn’t been quite so computer-gamey at the finish it would’ve grabbed my second place.

4. The Hurt Locker – Haven’t seen yet but as Centrebet’s favourite to win over Avatar with 1.75 to 2 odds, it gets my support right after the movies I have an emotional attachment to.

5. The Blind Side – Just know Sandra Bullock’s in it.

6. Up – A friend assures me that Finding Nemo was better.

7. A Serious Man – Meh.

8. An Education – Didn’t enjoy the write-up so I watched Crazy Heart instead last Saturday.

9. Precious – I didn’t like the poster.

10. Avatar – My strategic vote. I enjoyed watching it in 3D for the effects, but after someone told me it was the best movie they’d seen all year I reacted violently and haven’t cooled since.

I’d also vote Jeff Bridges in for Best Actor (with Clooney as my second-favourite) but since the Dude is tipped to win, and there’s no more run-off voting, I can leave it at that.

When I heard that Nicolas Chartier had been banned from attending the 82^nd annual Academy Awards for negative campaigning in order to promote the film “The Hurt Locker” (which he co-produced), I was outraged. I cannot stand unfairness and corruption. You may then ask why I would choose to live in South Africa, but that is neither here nor there. The point is, when I discovered the nature of Chartier’s unfair promotion, I found myself saluting him on the inside and I now hope that The Hurt Locker takes home the coveted Best Picture Oscar, despite the fact that I haven’t seen it. Why the sudden change of heart? Turns out he was emailing people on the decision committee and dogging another movie. He made a completely unambiguous reference to a “500 million dollar film”… Avatar.

Now, there is a 90% chance that you, the reader, thought that Avatar was the most wonderful film that you have ever seen. If you form part of the 10% that actually have a brain, then you may agree with me. Don’t get me wrong, Avatar was enjoyable. A fun watch. Great effects. But that’s where it ends. The acting was atrocious. The storyline was abysmal. And please don’t get me started on the script. “I see you”. Gag. Surely the “Best Picture” of 2009 should be a combination of superb storyline, acting and script? Surely the special effects should be secondary to the true substance of the film? I feel as though Avatar puts audiences into a sort-of trance. It’s as though most human beings (with the exception of the few who are immune) become so spellbound by the beautiful images on-screen, that they forget to be even remotely critical of the aspects that make a movie truly spectacular.

So I am left feeling remarkably pro-Chartier, despite the fact that he has probably ruined his movie’s chances of taking home the Oscar. People will probably vote against him purely on principal. But it would be a nice slap in the face if James Cameron’s ex-wife, Kathryn Bigelow, who directed The Hurt Locker, could squeeze in front of him and take home Best Director. As for Best Picture, I will be behind… well, I don’t care. As Scottish football fans support “Anyone But England”, I think I’m going to start an “Anything But Avatar” campaign for tomorrow night.

Egoli – Place of Gold has been around for as long as I can remember which, excepting a few pre-washing-the-blood-off-my-hands gaps, is about 1992. It’s gone now. (I’ve already seen a tearfully produced YouTube video, complete with nostalgic music and whatisname’s hilarious suicide scene.) It ended with execs whimpering about future ratings and Franz Marx saying he needs a holiday, despite the best efforts of a poorly-attended (and misplaced) petition to save it. My view: all good things – and, in Egoli’s case, mediocre things on an ever-steeper decline – must come to an end.

But don’t think I’m being unfair! Or, if I’m being unfair, don’t think I do so without adequate Egoli-exposure. I’ve seen many more episodes than the average tween and if you’ll step into the home life of young Kyle for a moment, you’ll find out why…

Supper is at 6pm and because Gran cooks it’s regular as clockwork. Food’s finished by 6.30 when the funnies come on, like The Simpsons, and this is enough to keep young, chubby Kyle firmly rooted in his beanbag all the way through SA’s favourite Open Time soapie. Everybody watches even though only one person falls into the “women of all nationalities between the ages of 25 and 45, with middle or upper incomes” core audience. As the boy grew in height and shrunk in girth, the family’s viewing patterns slowly evolved from watching every single bloody episode to every second one, to eventually replacing it with Binnelanders entirely when the slots swapped last year. So I – yes I – somehow enjoined with the most ardent fans, remember when Stephen was originally a druggy, when Rex became a baron, and when Jane was trampled by a horse and required plastic surgery to change her from Catriona Andrew to Corine du Toit.

“OH Thank the Gods for cancelling that fracking show!” – I agree with this post on MyBroadband because, for all the suppers Egoli and I have shared, Darryl Desmarais (Stephen Edwards) is still the worst actor I have ever seen, Egoli’s conflict scenes still always finish in mid air; and because they’ve never had hot actresses, and because I love The Simpsons and a comedy timeslot must be freed, and because Binnelanders has the genuinely evil At Koster, and…! Yes, thank the Gods for cancelling that fracking show.

Two weeks ago I had the opportunity to act like a complete cliché and watch Valentine’s Day… on Valentine’s Day…with my boyfriend (poor thing). In hindsight, I should have realised that this was a mistake. The couples (ok, women) sitting around me were incessantly ooh-ing and ah-ing at the screen, and the movie just wasn’t very good.

I was a little disappointed because I’m a big fan of all-star ensemble-cast movies like Love Actually and He’s Just Not That Into You (which I happened to watch last Valentine’s Day. What is wrong with me?). And Valentine’s Day includes a lot of big names: Jessica Biel, Ashton Kutcher, Jennifer Garner, Queen Latifa, Anne Hathaway, Topher Grace, Jamie Foxx, Julia Roberts, Patrick Dempsey (a true A-list celebrity), Bradley Cooper, Taylor Swift, that hideous guy from Twilight that Twilight fans seem to want to jizz all over for some reason, and many more that I can’t remember because their performances were just not that memorable.

So, what exactly was wrong with the movie? For starters, there wasn’t any character development, so I wasn’t really all that concerned about how things would turn out. I honestly couldn’t have cared less if someone had killed Ashton Kutcher with a chainsaw as he arrived at the airport to stop Jennifer Garner from leaving. It might have improved the storyline somewhat if they had. And the director, Garry Marshall of “The Other Sister” fame (I say this because it is literally the only other movie on his IMDb page that I recognise) tried, and failed, to create even the slightest bit of chemistry between Jessica Biel and Jamie Fox. It felt unbelievably contrived and awkward. When they finally kissed I felt my popcorn/Slush Puppy mix coming back up. And surprisingly, the only true chemistry that I felt throughout the entire movie was between Julia Roberts and Bradley Cooper, whose character turned out to be gay… with Mc Steamy.

Now I’m not going to be completely negative. Taylor Swift’s ditsy airhead character was pretty darn funny.

So, now that I’ve given you a list of the pros and cons, you can decide for yourself whether the movie’s worth watching.

Considering the rampant rise in cryptic status updates on Facebook,  I have created a little mascot called Eli the Cryptic Status Echidna.

You can either post a link to this blog post as a comment on their status update or you can copy the picture of Eli and edit the text above him and post it to their wall.

Love

Andrew

Yes, I know, not the most cryptic of titles, but nevertheless a true story. As a friend of mine bit into her fifth slice (alas!) of Roman’s pizza last night, she discovered this little critter nestled inside the doughy pizza base. A delicious, protein-rich topping for Bear Grylls perhaps, but outright disgusting for regular humans. We did what any sane people would do- declined the manager’s offer to make us another pizza and got a full refund. So things worked out pretty well considering I had already eaten most of mine. Anything for a free meal.