South Africa

“Tele2, you’re speaking to Teletubby. May I help you?”

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Thu, 07 May 2009 13:35:00 +0000

“Tele2, you’re speaking to Teletubby. May I help you?” That’s “tubby" like in hollow sound. Knock knock, who’s there…? Shake shake… nothing in there but empty space! It’s a breed of incompetent human beings (IHB), previously found only in Home Affairs. They are oxygen thieves and should according to Darwin not be fit enough to pollute the planet… Home Affairs and various call centres have however protected the specie, causing a degenerated world population and hell for normal people... Yesterday I managed to cancel my contract with Tele2. It might not seem like such an achievement… for such a trivial thing. Nevertheless, it took me 10 years.

Years back, I had this contract with the added service; “favourite country”. I was flirting on the phone nonstop and for NOK10 a month I got 30% off on my calls to South Africa. It was a good deal and saved me big bucks. When I changed provider I somehow assumed that this extra service, “favourite country”, would be cancelled along with it. South Africa taught me something new though, that assumption is the mother of all fuckups!

A few months later I received a NOK30 invoice for the "favourite country" service. I explained to the Teletubby that I did not need this service any more without a contract. Besides, I brought the chick over here and was fine with local calls. I was assured that they would take care of it and that I need not worry any more about it. Still, once every quarter I get the same bill with the same amount. 6 times I’ve contacted Tele2, and the whole vicious circle repeats itself every time.

Even with the 30% off, I believe I was a pretty appreciated client. Numerous Teletubbies have called to get me back with even better terms. But starting off as a humoristic thing, it has grown into a major frustration. I believe Tele2 is now down to break even on my account. I alone must have increased the staff turnover and the psychiatric help expenses for the Teletubbies dramatically.

The initial excuse was that it was a bit problematic due to their technical solution/platform or something along those lines. Same thing has been repeated as a standard phrase every time, and yesterday was no exception. After 10 years, they are still struggling with the same technical issues? Somebody is seriously incompetent... On my frustrations, anger and incompetence index, Tele2 is level with Home Affairs in Norway and South Africa. That’s bad!With a Jameson on the rocks and hardcore music on my eardrums I decided to blow off some steam last night. I told myself; “chill man – TIA”. TIA (This Is Africa) has been the explanation for every frustration and increased blood pressure over the last two years. But hey, that excuse does not apply here. This is civilization for f**k sake, or was that a dream I had?

This morning however I received an SMS saying that they have credited and finished the account. I’m still a bit hesitant, but I'm starting to believe I have cause to celebrate... Yay!!

Swine Dreams

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 05 May 2009 11:10:00 +0000

I’ve been trying to interpret this dream I had some time last year…

I was about to take over the family farm with animals and the lot. Before committing myself 100% to the pig sty I enjoyed a last vacation in Cancun, Mexico. The vacation was spoilt psyching myself up to the farming obligations ahead. It was a countdown to the inevitable. Generations of farmers was not going to stop with me (black sheep). In a dim tequila haze I surrendered to the heavy obligations on my shoulders…
Back on the farm I kick-started my farming career with flu. The poor pigs are like kids, dependent on you 24/7, so no sick leave for me. Then the pigs fell sick too, so I called the local vet. Long story, but the vet called for reinforcements and they eventually slaughtered all my pigs. My farming ancestors were twisting and turning in their graves. I fucked it up.With no pigs to tend to, I could at least sort out my own flu and get some medical treatment. I decided to suffer the necessary hours in queue at the hospital. Coughing and sneezing I was in good company with lots of other patients with various ailments. Feverish and hallucinating I swear we were all growing curly tails and moaning with stuffed up and runny noses. A team of white dressed guys with helmets sealed the room off with plastic and sprayed us with something. Next thing I was arguing with my ancestors about what a useless shit of a farmer I was. Then I woke up in my own bed… My interpretations are (in no ranked, preferred or suggested order):

1. I’m a pig!
2. I should go to Mexico and not come back!
3. I should never move back to Hamar (Hamarroids & the farm). Hell, maybe I shouldn’t have moved back to Norway at all, and followed my ancestors’ great trek?
4. It's an evolution forecast… global or Norwegian (prestage before the abyss)?
5. We should get the dog the kids are bugging me for.
6. A suggestion that this omnivor (me) should go vegetarian… maybe even vegan?
7. I’m clairvoyant and should open up a fortune teller practice.
8. The end, Ragnarok, is near!

I rarely remember my dreams and have therefore little practice interpreting dreams, so I’m open to suggestions..

Graduated with distinction

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Fri, 01 May 2009 18:18:00 +0000

Forgot to post the story of my graduation in South Africa. Better late than never:

I have officially acclimatized and done my African graduation! You may also say I’ve been corrupted or come down to the South African level (or up to), or however you may see it. Two years in South Africa has given me the right schooling I believe, and I have done (or committed) my first fully conscious and successful bribe! The politicians here are the best examples. All your friends have exciting stories to tell! It happens on a regular basis but I’ve only been a jealous listener to all the stories up until now. It was only a matter of time…

A family member had a good bribe story from another remote part of Africa. It fascinated me from day one and has stayed with me for a long time. It’s like a true African adventure thing that you have to experience as a proof that you have really had a proper taste of the continent. Very similar to other stupid stuff one may contemplate doing in order to have a proper Africa story to tell your pals back home! “We’ve got a problem, now how can we make this problem go away?” I love that approach! It's true African problem solving, and you haven’t been to Africa without getting yourself out of a shitty situation through a proper bribe!

I’m driving my father in laws car with a trailer hooked up. Down the road, some cops are pulling over vehicles. The most shabby looking cars and taxies are always stopped! Any vehicle with a trailer is also likely to be pulled over. From afar I can see that a police woman jumps out in the middle of the road, pointing at me and the trailer in the back. “F**k, what now?!” To her disappointment the license discs are in order. A foreigner however can be targeted many ways. My driving license that has been more than sufficient in any other police, car and insurance matters is now a BIG PROBLEM! On the 20th time she explains to me her bullshit problem, I’m about to explode. Considering the badge and uniform I go through all the Bruce Banner (Alias HULK) yoga/breathing exercises to not let the monster out! At the same time I’m wondering; “What the hell are you fishing for? ...are you?!” In retrospect I realize I should have picked it up on the 6th or 7th repetition at least. I’m a bit embarrassed about how slow I was, but there is a first time for everything to my defense.

What was that line again? I’m hesitating for a moment before I hear the words come out of my mouth; “How can we make this problem go away?” I burst out laughing as I say it. Maybe I can claim it was a joke now… waiting in anticipation for the lady cop’s next move. It will either be a bribe or a hardcore African prison now I’m sure… The cop smiles and says; “Ok, R100 and we’re quits”. “You’ll have to jail me for bribing too little”; I tell her, “coz I’ve only got R50 in my pockets”. “Ok"; she says and grabs my money. 50 meters further up are two of her colleagues standing. They must know exactly what’s going on. I’m sure they’ve got a little joint bribe pot to add to their salaries. I’m free to go. Very excited now I realize I’ve made my first official bribe, and I even had the guts to haggle with the cop! How much cooler could it get! I would say that a R50 bribe is very cheap, but good for a first timer. With marlin scars and a bribe to brag about, I can safely say that my African journey has been a very successful one. I’ve got stories that will get better by the years and that will keep children and grandchildren glued to my lap!

After sharing my story with people I’ve received more professional bribing advices. You simply plant a small note in the cop’s hands, hiding the real value so that he can’t see it before he is holding it up. When the cop complains about the low amount you threaten to report him! You have bought yourself out of the situation very cheap! This is common for minor traffic offences like drunk driving when you are on a roll.

I also had help to fix a small defect on my car, and to get a roadworthy certificate. During the technical check a new problem was discovered. For all I know it could have been a way to fish for a bribe, but it was in any event a problem that now had to be dealt with. Inspired by my story, my brother in law used the same line; “How can we make this problem go away?” I copied the line myself to be honest, but already people are copying me! How cool isn’t that? In South Africa that qualifies for a MB - Master of Bribery. Its like MBE (Member of the British Empire), a very honorable distinction, but a practical and very useful degree! The problem vanished for only R100, and technically the car does not stick out in the South African car park!

Troll proofing the house

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 11:02:00 +0000

My four year old son is watching The Bridge to Terabithia. It’s a bit scary, cause there is a huge troll in the movie. It’s a kid’s movie, but I did of course not check the age restrictions. Didn’t look like anything my son couldn’t handle in there. Suddenly I’m bombarded with questions about trolls. “Calm down”; I’m telling him. “This is an American movie, and everybody knows the trolls live in the mountains in Norway”. Mountains are clearly visible from our windows. They are huge and close! So much for the DVD babysitter... His eyes are wide open and he is running wild with fantasies about monsters, sharks, tigers and whatnot. It's like an amalgamation of all scary creatures in one - the troll just outside our window.

It seems like I’ve just escalated the problem to the highest level. Now I have to come up with an even better story to troll-proof the house… Damn Asbjørnsen & Moe (Collecting Norwegian fairy tales)!

Africa in my blood?

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 07:12:00 +0000

Sunday morning we woke up to a clear blue sky and sun. I had to pinch myself twice to confirm that this was not just wishful thinking and part of a dream about sunny days in South Africa. If it’s not the regular Bergen weather, industrial smoke pipes usually build up to a weekend downpour of note. The sun doesn’t get many chances here. It’s less likely than winning in the lottery. Unprepared for this extraordinary situation we were running around like headless chickens. We had to take advantage of this rare opportunity of course and enjoy it best way possible. What though? A few months in Bergen has wiped out any recollection of sunny days, never mind how to savour it. What do you do with a beautiful day like this? Distant beach memories from South Africa, Mozambique, Zanzibar and Madagascar are useless on the Atlantic coastline.

Half the day is already gone when we finally decide to go downtown for some coffee and ice cream and enjoy the sun. That’s way too lame for our soon to be teenager, so she went on a separate mission. Back home again we realized we left with no keys. Our daughter is over the hills somewhere with her keys. How the heck can we get in now…

The apartment building we live in is currently going through a face lift. New and more spacious balconies are being put up. Scaffolding has covered the building for weeks. Very convenient. I can make it up to our bedroom window which happens to be open (and no burglar bars). Halfway up I’m looking down at a couple walking past. They’re smiling up at me. It's Sunday and I'm not dressed like a construction worker. I could be an opportunistic thief, but these people are smiling at me. Talk about neighbourhood watch. It didn't even strike their mind. I, on the other hand, feel guilty for just being up here. Never mind the security.

We were away for Easter, and any random thief could have been tempted. Very convenient and saving a lot of bother with this scaffolding. It's an obvious invitation! In South Africa the whole building would have been cleaned out in no time. Here on the other hand, the neighbours smile and would most likely greet and give a helping hand. I’m feeling guilty for climbing into my own apartment. Am I stuck in the South African mind frame or what?

In South Africa, the tsotsis were known to brows the neighbourhoods for prospective houses and mark the prospects with a cold drink can, sticks or a pile of rocks on the side of the driveways. It reminds me how I walked in deep snow as a kid to find a nice Christmas tree. The day before Christmas we went back to find the same tree that we had singled out by slicing off some bark from the trunk. It was our forest, but it still happened that thieves had chopped down our marked tree. The tsotsi thinking was thus not unfamiliar to me, so I was constantly on the lookout for unfamiliar objects in my driveway in South Africa. Sun Tzu could very well have used my example in his chapter about “knowing your enemy”.

This smiling couple could of course get an eureka revelation further down the road and decide to be responsible citizens. The police could be just around the corner. What a mess this day would turn into. Maybe I should “take them out”? I’ve watched Dexter and CSI and quite confident I can both execute and cover my tracks. They are two people on an open road (this could get noisy and ugly)… and my inexperience… think I’ll reconsider. The currencies of two lives are worth more than my potential troubles could ever amount to, even on a fucked up sunny day in Bergen. This is not Africa. The apartment is filled with alibis in any event. I should be able to sort it out with the police. Damn, South Africa must have really scarred me.

Is this what “Africa in your blood” really means? You can take the man out of Africa, but not the bush out of the man… Once in your bloodstream it sounds like a hopeless case?!

Ship ohoy!

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 12:51:00 +0000

Coming to Bergen has been a wet experience although things are picking up a bit now during spring, even in Bergen. The light hours and change in temperature is always pleasant, but more noticeable here in Bergen still is that the sun is stealing market shares from the heavy rain clouds. I’ve also noticed that the activities at the marinas are increasing. Fond memories from my own seaman days come to mind.

After college I was sent to serve my military service, and ended up on a boat. Not a battle ship or a sub, but a small people carrier. Working on the boat proved very different from the farm, so I took plenty of shouting. Some time in-between fishing and breaking the ice we were asked to pull a boat off a reef. Whilst I was still busy fastening the hawser, the impatient skipper pulled full force. The hawser snapped like an elastic band and came back like a projectile. I jumped for cover. The hawser with a thick steel wire core ripped my pant leg open and made a huge dent in the tin hull. Lucky it didn't chop my legs right off.

A few years later I decided to get a wooden sailboat. This time of year, right after Easter, was mixed with excitement and terror. It was prepared for the season and ready to launch. Since the wooden hull had dried up on land, it needed to soak for a while to expand and stop leaking. Worried about the leakage though, I spent the night in the boat. Early next morning I woke up with one foot in the water, prickling from current leakage from the bilge pump.

The most memorable trip was when a sudden wind caught the sails and put the mast horizontal and taking in lots of water. How could I know that you could turn up against the wind and lower the sails nice and easily? Instead I had both legs locked around the mast and fought for an hour. Exhausted from battling with the sails, I baled buckets upon buckets of water to stay afloat. The flat battery gave no assistance from the bilge pump of course.

Vilde (name of the boat), had beautiful sexy lines. Weight wise though, the iceberg principle applied. The heavy keel and 90% of the weight was under water. After selling it, the keel actually fell off. Although I was not there to see, it’s priceless to imagine how the boat must have shot out of the water and landed with the mast down.

On two occasions I have managed to lure my wife into a small dinghy. The outboard motor died both times. The first time I had to push my 8 months pregnant wife onto the pier. Both times I had to row like a madman to reach land.

Driving past the marinas now I'm longing to be back on deck and feel the rocking waves. There must be a reason why I ended up in Bergen. Destiny! I just know wify will share my enthusiasm!!

Election Reflections

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 00:34:00 +0000

I’m live streaming 94.7 Highveld Stereo, Joburgs bumper to bumper traffic entertainment number one. Damn, I didn’t know just how much I’ve missed it before now. Over the next few days I will make serious attempts to catch Wackheads morning pranks. If not in the traffic, I would make up excuses to catch Wackhead before doing whatever… Just heard they run amazing (Nandos) election campaigns for ANC these days, So I’m looking forward to some juicy stuff there...

I couldn’t escape some SA election stuff in any event. I predict that Zuma wins a landslide election… duh!!! The election was over last year when Zuma closed down the scorpions (corruption task force on Zumas tail).

I also see that Shabir Shaik (corruption & fraud) is due for medical parole (although nobody can tell what’s wrong with him) less than 3 years into his 15 years sentence. I doubt he will need it. Zuma must still be thankful for the millions he received, so I predict a presidential pardon and a miraculous recovery for Mr Shaik. His corruption track record will ensure a promising political career in the years to come. Lots of old news can be brought against Zuma of course, but I do honestly believe, and I predict once again that he will reduce the rape statistics significantly! Zuma’s own rape charges (where he showered off the HIV germs) illustrate this. According to Zulu traditions that Zuma refers to, “… it’s a crime to deny a woman sex when she is ready”. No wonder Zuma saw it best to fuck her brains out. A lousy fuck must also be a felon… I’m only confused about the “readiness” factor (in a rape charge). I wonder if this could be introduced elsewhere (like in Norway), or does Zulus have extra sensitive senses to detect "readiness"?

My condolences go to the people of the African continent. SA used to be in the forefront and have some sort of development to show for. The political situation though is in my eyes going down the drain and culminates with Zuma in office. SA as an example used to give an ounce of hope for other African states. Now it seems like SA is copying… I wonder if Zimbabwe is not the ideal?! It confirms that we did the right thing to leave SA last year, but that doesn't make me very happy. Funny to think back now how I planned to get myself a crossbow and night optics only months ago in pure rage. The political situation and crime was exactly our reasons. I hope I’m not clairvoyant about all my predictions though.

The Zapiro cartoons showed above are used with permission from Zapiro, and more brilliant cartoons can be found at http://www.zapiro.com/.

Jacob Zuma on Facebook (Screenshot only)

My turn to cook

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 22:13:00 +0000

I received an sms from wify today; ”what’s for supper darling?”. It’s my turn to cook, and it’s a constant headache since my repertoire is somewhat limited. I’m not quite in the same league as somebody I know who in his fifties had to phone his mother to find out how to boil potatoes. I’ve boiled potatoes dry, I admit it, but my persistence eventually succeeded. My wife is also a brilliant cook and expect the same standards, which ads to my headache.

In our early days, I believed (naïve and blinded by love) that my cooking abilities could impress. My creativity and repertoire was extensive. How did the repertoire shrink though, isn’t it usually the other way around? We are of course ruthlessly honest with feedback today as opposed to ten years ago when we were more polite and constantly flirting. I interpret facial expressions for success or failure. Still I have to rely on her oral judgement. Only 2 years later though (on average after each new dish), has her honesty matured 100%. That or she eventually feels safe to tell me straight? Public places and in company with friends and family is usually when the truth comes out. Needless to say, my confidence and repertoire has shrunk…

2 years in South Africa should have given lots of inspiration, but with a domestic helper 24/7… It never happened. A colonial gentleman doesn’t cook to impress. He plays polo or cricket… or scubadive! Besides, it would be suicide way sooner than 2 years to challenge her on her turf.

My homemade pizza last weekend is ruled out forever. Not because wify gave me an advance feedback, but I honestly thought my pizza had given the whole family e-coli (with e-coli incidents on the news to back up my suspicions). It was terrible. It was not e-coli, but still horrible. The doctor says my pizza was not a probable cause, since a lot of other patients (that didn't eat my pizza) seemed to suffer similar symptoms. The pizza is still branded with bad memories.

I sms back; “Dunno… J (our daughter) ordered homemade meatballs” to give her an indication and an opportunity to object. Her response comes quickly; “Sorry”. Sorry? What the f**k?! With her postgraduate degree in PR and communication and with our cooking history… how much positive can I possibly read into “Sorry”? My entire repertoire is officially exhausted! I’ve still got my domestic helpers number in South Africa…

Hot Skando Babes Ltd

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 16:49:00 +0000

Scientists have combined psychology, neurology, economy and gaming theories and developed what they have named Behavioral Economics. One of the founding fathers, Daniel Kahnemann, got the Nobel prize in economics in 2002. Since existing economic models and theories are unable to explain the finance crisis we needed something new.

A number of books on the area are already out there, but Dan Ariely’s “Predictable Irrationality – The hidden forces that shape our decisions” is one of the important ones. He has asked male students to describe themselves when sexually aroused, and whether they would put dope in the drink to get a woman to bed when they are horny, amongst other things. Afterwards though, they are asked to answer the same questions whilst masturbating over an issue of Playboy. The guys were 136% more willing to participate in immoral activities. Duh!!

The founding fathers of Hot Skando Babes Ltd (HSB), myself & Beaverboosh, has suspected this since puberty, and conducted a series of similar market analyses over years, ahead of the launch last year. Managers in the biggest banks and multinational companies like Enron, Société Générale, Lehman Brothers, Citibank, Bear Stearns, AIG and Stanford Bank just to name a few contributed. The global list of participants is of course too long to include here. Our testing universe was extensive in order to make a representative selection of the entire worlds (old school) market economy. We were able to do this in such a large scale because the market analysis in itself proved to be extremely profitable. We simply put a Hot Skando Babe on the manager’s lap and asked questions as to how far (immorally) they would go in order to “get her”. Trained Skando Babes conducted the interview themselves so that a third interviewer would not affect the answers and credibility. The conclusion was that Hot Skando Babes Ltd is fit to thrive in today’s increasingly ruthless business world. Word of mouth and private networking has helped Hot Skando Babes a lot. On our regulars list of excellent businessmen who recommends Hot Skando Babes we've got Eliot Spitzer, Jérôme Kerviel, Marc Dreier and Bernard Madoff among many others.Dan Ariely used Playboy issues picturing Hot Skando Babes and similar methods as we used and thus reached the same conclusions. Our research though, was conducted on a decision making level (not pennyless students) and a much more profitable segment. Dan Ariely is clearly a copycat, and I am very hurt that we were not even credited in his research papers and recent book. Never mind a Nobel prize in economic theory!

Hot Skando Babes Ltd had however built up sufficient funds through our market analyses to do a global launch last year, and the business has been booming. Dan Ariely has of course made good money on his book violating our research copy rights and Hot Skando Babe’s good name and reputation. Hot Skando Babes Ltd has however decided not to sue Dan Ariely. Instead the board has decided to kill him with kindness and send over a Hot Skando Babe to his office.

In a pursuit to explain our fabulous success we have so far found a correlation between HSB revenues and the decline in the global stockmarkets. This is of course intriguing and our Skando Babe analysts are still busy deciphering these remarkable findings. When it comes to customer satisfaction we have achieved immediate and short term top scores. The long term customer satisfaction is however challenging to say the least, and this will be our main focus in the coming months. One of the measures is to install hidden cameras to analyze the client interaction. We believe this will provide important new information that we can use to u-turn this negative trend. In the mean while, we wish all our clients wealth and happiness and that we can avoid the brewing war. After all, their success is our success!

Mutant war

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 12:48:00 +0000

The Brazilian president, Luiz Inacio ”Lula” da Silva has blamed ”blue eyed white people” for the financial crisis. I feel hurt and seriously offended since I fit strikingly into this group. It is scientifically explained that blue eyes came about as a mutation 6-10.000 years ago. Lula is using the financial crisis to attack a group that he apparently bears grudge against – me and my fellow mutants! I wonder why though? Did he ever meet a Hot Skando (mutant) Babe? Why does this sound so familiar? History is repeating itself of course, just like in the documentaries I saw recently about the X-men.Jews, mutants or any other group… it’s easy and convenient to join the warmonging mob during times of crisis. People need to blame somebody, and it surely doesn’t help that the Hot Skando (mutant) Babes are outperforming everybody else. I can see crystal clear that this is brewing up to a war. Lula will wipe us out if he gets a chance. We can no longer rely on much support from the US government like we had for the last two periods. Yes, Bush was a blue eyed blond undercover mutant. Nobody had a clue whilst he was in office. In retrospect though, hindsight is of course 20/20. Anyway, this will be the next world war – mutants against the rest.Our mutation was very successful though, so we’re not a small group. The X-men had Xavier with his telepathic abilities to locate and gather the mutants. It is my calling to gather the blue eyed mutants, but telepathy and mindreading is not my area of expertise. I might not need to since our characteristic mutation can easily be picked out from the crowd. I will look out for undercover agents with blue contact lenses and dyed hair though. A control question from "Are you smarter than a 5th grader" will smoke out enemy spies. The Hot Skando Babes are already organized and the infrastructure and logistics ready set up, so we should be prepared in relatively short time. This is WAR! We’re ready for you Lula, bring it on!!

Earth Hour

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 21:54:00 +0000

Saturday night and my wife and I are working. That’s not a typical Saturday, but some peace and quiet in order to concentrate is desperately sought after. The children have other ideas of course. Then I remember something that I’ve read about in the papers the last few days, its Earth Hour today. One hour to save the environment… Give or take, it could be right now. What better excuse could you use really? Except for our two laptops we switched everything off, and what an effect. The kids fell asleep instantly and the darkness with the only light coming from the laptop worked as perfect blinkers. Hehehe, in my desperation I found a way and quite chuffed with myself right now.

In a moment’s reflection, this reminds me so much about the load sheddings in South Africa. The only difference is that this is out of our own free will (and for a good cause) whilst in South Africa the power would suddenly be switched off in the middle of cooking. On top of that, some stupid minister will tell 50 million South Africans that they can just go to bed earlier to save scarce watts. The darkness is still the same. In South Africa we were prepared with a gas stove and loads of candles. Lit candles now and kids asleep would make a rare moment… In an isolated community up in the mountains here in Norway, Lom to be specific, they have seen this exact opportunity. They are hoping for an Earth Hour baby boom to keep up the population. That's a different kind of "load shedding". Our household has reached an agreed members peak, but will still consider having regular Earth Hours… for the environment!

Evolution in theories

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 21:07:00 +0000

Charles Darwin and evolution has frequented the media more lately than ever when he was alive. We're celebrating his 200th birthday and his theories that most people, except religious fanatics, still regard as the true answer. Some claim that “Origin of the Species” could have celebrated 170 years (not 150 years) if Charles wasn’t scared to upset his religious wife. The pope will probably agree to call this the year of the rat (or some lesser being) because of all the troublesome noise it whirls up.

Darwin took interest in Malthus’ theories on the population’s development. Malthus was against charity and social welfare as it was interfering with nature and would only worsen the problem. William Wilberforce and his abolitionist movement (against slavery) must have been real trouble causers in his eyes. Darwin though, realized that the struggle for existence was more than charity could deal with, but Maltus’ theories and numbers were still intriguing.Malthus calculated that the world’s population would double every 25 years if it continued to grow unchecked. Rather an exponential development I would think, like the rabbit case down under. Darwin saw that this did not happen because there was already a struggle for existence. Darwin’s conclusions were based on population figures back then. What about today then? I remember the world population number being 4 billion people (maybe 25 years ago), and today I hear it’s 6.7 billion. The Chinese people where numerous but poor before. With the shift in the global economy, I predict that hardwired ($$$) Chinese women will be ever so willing. We are certainly getting closer to Malthus’ calculations by the day. So maybe Malthus was right after all. If it wasn’t for the plague, powerty, wars and AIDS… we would have been the rabbit case long time ago!

While Darwin’s published works contained his theories and principles, his personal letters showed disregard and contempt towards neighboring people even on the British Isles. After putting my own views on a tough test in the post Apartheid South Africa, it would have been interesting to have a beer with (someone from history) Darwin and Malthus in the shabeens in today’s Soweto or Diepsloet. Would they reinstate Apartheid?

So, Darwin didn’t necessary cheer for every single twist and turn on the social status ladder, even though they could prove fit with his own theories. Still, I wonder if Darwin didn’t just express his own prejudiced attitudes. His very religious wife who held him on a short leash for many years is obviously reflected. All the built up anger and frustrations tailored his theories against his wife and higher powers. That’s just how the mind works. Poor depraved man. You have to know the man to understand how his ideas came about. Nurtured through prejudice and vengeance, that’s all.

For 150 years now we have confirmed and proved to ourselves in every possible way that evolution is the answer – not God. It’s like when you want confirmation that you did the right thing when you bought that overly expensive new car… or how every famous dude in history made theories that complied with the bible. I don’t find the genie or the monkey theory very appealing. I think it’s time to think outside the box (forget God and evolution) and come up with some better stories… a new truth that we can convince ourselves to believe in for at least another 50-100 years. Given the times of economic depression, I believe I can monetize on a new and more appealing theory. Since Hot Skando Babes Ltd is doing so well, it could maybe help explain a new and sexier theory…

"Never allow a good crisis to go to waste" - Rahm Emanuel (Barrack Obama administration)

Deep trouble

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 00:32:00 +0000

I’m impressed with the amount of 4x4 vehicles on the road in South Africa. Bakkies and the ones solely meant to be a status symbol. My personal favourite is the Landrover Defender. It's a bit like going back to the 70's when you sit in, but you know that it will take you through sand dunes, bush and mud like no other car. It’s not a fake but a hardcore 4x4. It would suit me when I go on my safari trips.Checking out all the Defenders on the roads I noticed that a great deal of them had a tube thing coming up on the side - a snorkel. Funny thing for a car, but no doubt you can go deep into the mud or river and come out easy as you got in. Diving is spectacular in South Africa, so it’s no surprise they picked up inspiration for their bundo-bashing (bush adventures) adventures enabling them to take it to another level. The conditions in South Africa could inspire such an invention, coz I'm pretty sure it must be South African. It’s natural like it is for Norwegians to invent outdoor gear for extreme conditions.

Like anywhere in the world people talk about the weather, people in Bergen talk about the rain. I am major impressed by the amount of rain and the size of the pools of water. More than once have I thought “How deep can you go before the engine drowns”? I’ve been here only for a short time, so it must have struck people in Bergen plenty of times. People here should have come up with the car snorkel long time before the bundo-bashing in South Africa went high tech. It’s a basic need in order to get from A to B here…

A colleague confirmed that he drowned one of his cars, following others that made it successfully. Apparently his engine's air intake was at a lower level than the other daring ones and had no snorkel. The engine was finished and had to be changed. NOK 90k! A snorkel would have been such a cheap insurance. I'm sure it's a common problem here. I'm actually disappointed the off-shore and subsea industry on the coastline didn't come up with this before. Whilst it’s a need here, it’s just another cool gadget thing for your vehicle so that you can have more fun in South Africa. The insurance companies could lower the premiums… Hell, they should insist like they do with the trackers in South Africa.If my new Skando Babes project fails (comments section), I know what the next project is going to be:-)

Opportunities

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 03:42:00 +0000

Iceland is bankrupt, the biggest companies in the world are faltering. Capitalist market number one, the US is anything but rock steady and the financial crisis is threatening the free market economy that I used to be a firm believer in. For four years I opened my mind wide open and let myself brainwash with the latest in capitalist thinking and marketing in a free economy. Hell, I didn’t just volunteer either. I paid for it! Errrr... still paying for it...

Look hard and you will find this among Nostradamus’ predictions, but he was no capitalist guru. Adam Smith, John Maynard Keynes, Porter and all the gurus that I worshipped unconditionally never mentioned anything about the chance of a meltdown like this. As a student I/we believed that all the theories applied would lead to Nirvana or some kind of utopian society! The crash of the stock market in 1929 was hush hush and best forgotten. After 1929, communism was still the enemy.

The US, and western economies throughout Europe are injecting capital in a bottomless drain to save companies and economies that are unfit to survive without intervention. They are acting more socialistic than China! I used to think that the capitalism was the Darwinism (Survival of the fittest/natural selection) for money markets. The former capitalist locomotive and arch enemy of socialism is now pissing on the theories of monetary evolution. Engels and Marx must be laughing their guts out in their graves right now! The communists in China on the other hand have applied the capitalist theories better than anybody else. Red carpets are rolled out for them in all the aspiring colonies throughout Africa.

Likewise, Norway should grab the opportunities that lie before us. A socialist society like Norway should be able to follow suit and copy China’s example. We could make Iceland an offer for starter. Climate wise Iceland is not worth fighting for, with the exception of Heitipottur though, never mind the debt attached. Who knows what tourism and hidden natural resources might collect? Besides, real estate is always a good thing! Mauritius is also looking to invest in new land, scared that their sand banks will soon dip below sea level. Why not make them an offer too. We could invest some oil money, or swop with some mountainous plots high above sea level between our precious glaciers. That way we can open up a domestic flight between Oslo Gardermoen (OSL) and The Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam International Airport (SSR) and defrost once in a while during the cold Norwegian winter. When the financial crisis has worked for a while, who knows what other opportunities may arise? We might end up with a much more desirable homeland and climate at the end of it... If we can outrun China I might even be able to return to O. R. Tambo (Joburg, South Africa) on a domestic flight.

The American porn industry is asking for financial aid in this time of crisis and depression, arguing that people could need some excitement to cheer up. After 9/11 people instinctively fu**ed like rabbits. It was like a biological anti annihilation mechanism kicked in, Darwinism in its purest form. The financial crisis is slow torture in comparison and seems to have the opposite effect. The local business school here in Bergen, Norges HandelsHøyskole (NHH), is also struggling to sell their sexy calendar picturing petite blondes. So maybe the American porn industry has a point. Instead of pumping billions of dollars down that drain, maybe they should rather start in the other end and inject some Viagra and free access to porn for the people to kick-start the economy?!

New evidence brought to my attention by Beaverboosh that women are hardwired to choose ($$$) wealthy men support my theory. It clearly contributes to the downward depressive spiral that we currently see. The porn industry however, in collaboration with the pharmaceutical (Viagra) industry, can help us override this by jumpstarting the hormones and encouraging more spontaneous and frivolous activity. Mark my words, this will rub off and be an exciting turning point for the world economy. Meanwhile, in-between random bonking on the street corners, I will reinvest the extra dimes in my mattress in the porn industry to make sure that I come out on top and become an irresistible catch for the hardwired opposite sex!

Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 03:14:00 +0000

I was battling to find the Christmas spirit in South Africa, floating around in the pool or sweating and loafing around in shorts and t-shirt. In Bergen I struggle just as much with the rainy weather. It seems like only snow and cold can get me into the right spirit. It’s an important realization… coz I really want to find that Christmas feeling again. Chasing Christmas, I made a few preparations this year – mental and practical ones.

CD’s were burnt and IPOD’s propped full of Christmas music with all the imaginable classics to nurture the right spirit. Blondie (my new TomTom GPS) suggested a scenic route to Hamar through the winter land of Hardanger. The preparations, the expectations and the build-up through Hardanger were going to secure the best Christmas ever. I was even at peace with the expected piles of potatoes with no possible variations for change. It was not going to ruin anything. Nor crying children or whatever...

Festive season means Christmas parties (julebord), and a couple of days before our departure, I was due. Julebord in turn means lots of Aquavit and hangover the next day. A flirting sun and blue sky hours before fooled me nicely. The rain in Bergen never takes a rain check. Soaking wet I was running hurdles over broken down and moving/flying umbrellas downtown. Concentration, timing and acrobatics are crucial but not always enough to time those drunken leaps when the hurdles suddenly changes speed and direction. Behind every hurdle is a puddle of water the size of an ocean... Anyway, the hangover the next day faded inevitably into a gastric flu. A mouthful of cement (Immodium) blocked any chance of bowel movements for the rest of the year... building up a tremendous pressure and explosions on New Year’s Eve...

The nice thing about the GPS is that it takes you to all the places you don’t know without you having to think at all. A sexy voice will tell you where to go left and right. In 5 seconds, Blondie has planned every turn (and objections to deviations) and estimated the time of arrival 8 hours later. 30.000 roads have been considered to determine my route. How can you not trust something impressive like that? I can lean back and let the Christmas spirit come to me as we cruise across the plains of Hardanger...

Hardanger, or HARD ANGER is exactly as friendly as the name itself promise to be! It was discovered by some English speaking people (must be), but abandoned quickly and left for the less picky (stupid) Vikings. Blondie was of course blissfully unaware of this fact when taking me for a ride into a dead end... The road is simply blocked when the mountain is showing its temper, creating an extra detour of a couple of hours...

At the destination and desperate for the real Christmas feeling I’m building up pressure like a scuba tank whilst the rest of the family (everybody having the flu) could hold nothing. In retrospect, I take comfort in the fact that the pool in South Africa would have been less delicate this Christmas still... Even though both the Norwegian and Swedish Santa dropped by this year – “Bad Santa” (the movie) was by far more memorable and fitting!

Bergen - A city of pervs

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 23:16:00 +0000

On a trip downtown today I found it best to take a taxi. People here often resort to taxis because of the rain. Judging from the big pools of water around, they could be bottomless. Trained to look for escape routes in the Johannesburg traffic, I quickly confirmed that the car had airbags. Worst comes to worst, I could always trigger the airbags, stay afloat and survive another rainy day.

The taxi driver could tell me that today’s weather was bad even for Bergen. Last year they were only a few days short of 3 months of continuous rain! Other than that, Bergen has had so much of nice weather over the last few years that the rain in Bergen is becoming an undeserved myth! Hammered with rain stats I was speechless in the back seat. It's an unavoidable subject in Bergen, but with statistics like this, and with my own wet experiences lately, its facts - NO BLOODY MYTH!

With the amount of rain you also have to plan your days accordingly. For this people have national weather services on the internet. Everybody in Bergen has bookmarked this site! First thing in the morning you check the weather. During your lunch break and a couple of more times you check again to avoid surprises. It’s like with the crime in South Africa, always stay alert with your guard held high!

The name of the weather service is the biggest joke though, www.yr.no! Yr in Norwegian has a double meaning, “drizzle” and “excited” (horny). Like rain is such a desirable thing?! It doesn't get me off! Rather depressive and impotent. Being in Bergen that's not a temporary state! I suspect the site was founded by somebody in Bergen. He/she must be a real perv but in good company it seems. The streets are crowded with people in rubber from head to toe. Over the years Bergen has of course attracted rubber fetishists worldwide. Here they can all come out of the cot, flourish and live out their rubber desires amongst fellow fetishists without sticking out.This blue eyed stud need no rubber any time soon...

Inside A Black Hole

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Sat, 18 Oct 2008 18:00:00 +0000

It’s scientifically proved that it statistically rains more in the weekends. The industrial smoke pipes builds up to a massive downpour on your days off. What doesn’t come down during the weekend is forwarded to Bergen. Mountains also push the warm air up and cause rain. The mountains around Bergen makes sure no rainclouds can escape, but is this the only explanation? What else then?

A black hole theory seems applicable, simply because Bergen IS a black hole. A common misunderstanding is that black holes pull all kinds of physical matter indiscreetly. This is of course nonsense. You have selective black holes (SBH) out there, and this one basically concentrating/specializing on H2O, water. Global rainclouds are drawn to and sucked into the black hole being Bergen (Norway). Scholars disagree on what actually happen to matter that is sucked into a black hole, or how a black hole appears from the inside. I have the questionable pleasure of finding myself in one, and can thus share the insight of my empirical findings so far with the outside world (outside the black hole). Bergen in black hole terms is a relatively young one. How exciting isn't it to follow a black hole all the way from its cradle to our grave…

Global streams (Gulf Stream) in the water and wind patterns are all centred on or caused by Bergen. Like when you pull out the plug in your bathtub, the water will go down the drain. Bergen is the global drain! All the water will a little by little end up in Bergen. Don't fool yourself into believing that this is just a hate speech by a hamarroid struggling to dry up. Melting icebergs at the poles is just one of the symptoms. As opposed to popular belief, and my own assumptions (I confess), the sea level will not rise. It will just end up in Bergen. This will have two extreme implications for life on earth - in Bergen or any other geographical whereabouts. The seas, lakes, rivers, streams and humidity in the air will be sucked dry. Since all living life requires water, everything will die out and turn into a global desert. Sounds familiar? It’s of course useless looking for water on Mars since the black hole there already completed its mission! NASA, wake up! So that's what the future has in store for us... if you're not living in Bergen that is.

In Bergen, it has the opposite effect! Some water is good, but too much is also not good. The Bergen flood is already well documented. You don’t need Nostradamus to predict this one. At this early stage it means that people are for the most part weather bound at home. Today, I had to take a rain check on an invitation to my favourite water-hole (Pub). Storming horizontally outside, I could not manage to open the front door. Trapped inside I’m terrified that the “sinking car” principle applies, and I have to wait until the house is filled (equal pressure inside and outside) with water before I can get out. Poor me, I sold my diving equipment before moving to South Africa… If I survive this one, I will invest in tanks and equipment for the whole family! It could sure come in handy now... or would it just prolong this rain of terror?

So, when the Bergen black hole has done its job, there will be a dead planet of sand and stone… and then a tiny little bubble (Bergen) compressed with water. Nobody really knows what happens inside that black hole. Compressed and compressed to a fraction the pressure will squeeze life out of even the deepest of Norwegian bottom dwellers. The people in Bergen can thus not depend on their own evolutionary speed to outperform the progress of the black hole. Some scientists suggest that a black hole must have a white hole to spew the compressed matter back out, and that this white hole may create conditions where new organic life can grow. Recycling basically! Norwegians and people from Bergen to be more specific, will in any event form the essence of new recycled life.

Although this demonstrates that Norwegians are the chosen people, it causes no wet dreams from my side.

What the future holds (for Norwegians)

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 18:06:00 +0000

One epoch of the Stensby family is over for now, South Africa. Another one has begun. I have followed the steps of my forefathers northwards all the way back to Norway. Somewhat unwilling to follow exactly that path, I expect (hopeful, you have to give me that) that the journey ahead will unfold their logic and reasoning for settling down here. Someday I might understand and even accept…We have landed ourselves back in "the arse end of the world" (Wife's favorite expression), but not amongst the hamarroids in my home town Hamar. More specifically we have settled down in Bergen on the very edge of the European continent. Europe feels far away and remote…From Bergen you can look out over the horizon of the North Sea/Atlantic Ocean. Somewhere out there is our national borders. We have borders to Russia, Iceland, an actual iceberg popularly called the North Pole and "Smutthullet" (Translates; “The Loophole”). Despite the fact that it’s probably a lot of fish out there in Smutthullet, nobody wants it. It’s stormy like hell and a very undesirable place. That's the kind of borders we’ve got and Norway is not much better! Norwegians were most likely the last people in the queue, and had to settle with the only patch of land that was left to claim. But wouldn’t it be better to go to war for something better than this? Not Sahara maybe, but except from that, anything in-between would be worth a fight.

The history books can give you many motives for going to war. Territory, power, money, natural resources, religion, love... But nowhere will weather and climate be mentioned. It's a secret pact that dates back thousands of years. Nowadays the treaty is a confidential UN matter. All countries have sworn to not mention it to provoke the Norwegian Vikings. It’s a human right to have better climatic conditions. It's an obvious legitimate reason to go to war. Everybody knows it, except the Norwegians. Tip toe and hush hush, don't wake the beast (Vikings/barbarians)! They are happy to keep us under control up here. This deep freezer seems to have a calming effect… duh! Meanwhile, non Norwegians around the world enjoy their cocktail drinks at the poolside and make jokes about us.

Cold or wet, Norwegians always had to look on the bright side of life. Gallows humour was often the only thing that made people reconsider and loosen the noose. The expression; “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing!” depicts this. The desperation, hypothermia and deep depression shines through! Even our most successful exports in music, AHA, had to be sarcastic with songs like; "The Sun Always Shines On TV"! That's dilirium coming from a Norwegian!

Frenchmen drink a couple of glasses of wine a day. It neutralizes the effect of the fatty food. In Norway (except for one area in the South called "The bible belt"), every second household makes their own moonshine (traditionally). Brewing, we aim for no less than 96% proof! A lethal amount of alcohol in the bloodstream for a Frenchman is just what you need to keep the blood from freezing in Norway. During the dark Norwegian seasons, it serves as Prozac and wipes out the rest of the intolerable memories. A necessity up here! Bin Laden and Al Qaeda found only one way to hit the Norwegians where it really hurt. They flooded the Norwegian market with barrels of methanol. A few died, but worse still - people could no longer deaden the pain and have a dignified existence in Norway.

Extreme conditions pushes evolution forward though, so maybe something good could come out of it? Global warming, melting icebergs and rising sea levels could hardly benefit anybody better than people in Bergen and coastal Norway. With the amount of rain, we are pretty much in the water and busy evolving. People have wet and wrinkled skin on a regular basis because of all the rain... What about that itch under my ear that won’t go away… I might be developing gills already! Sharks has been around for millions of years and outlived dinosaurs, so it might be the right way to go. The only thing that worries me is that we would not automatically be on top of the food chain down there…

During the Norwegian season (alas when Norwegians are in their element) when it’s cold, it’s also pitch dark! Because of the lack of sunlight, the body can't produce its normal amount of vitamin D. That’s probably the only good reason for settling on the coastline, so that we can get access to vitamin D rich fish! My blue mutant eyes that I was so happy with, are worth f**k all and useless in the dark. Because of the darkness we are therefore busy developing night vision like owls. Evolution at work once again! When we have finalized the evolutionary steps and are 100% back in the water, I believe we will be bottom dwellers where no light can protrude and there are plenty of D vitamins (fish).Wow, how great isn’t that! I'm not a big bully or warmonger, but this time it makes sense to pick a fight with somebody. Other than that I'm no closer to finding the answers. No logic and no good reasons, so the search goes on…

Being Norwegian

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 21:01:00 +0000

I’m back in Norway, and reflecting on being Norwegian. Norwegians are nationalistic (I’ve heard), and they (we) love to show glorifying programs on TV about themselves. I watched one of these programs recently, and got more resentful than ever before against my forefathers for settling down here…

Here’s just an example from history to put things into perspective. Scott, an English explorer (but I suspect a Norwegian wannabe!) tried to get to the poles (North and South Pole), but failed. Shackleton, one of Scotts previous companions also tried but failed miserably. Then came this new guy, Roald Amundsen, from out of nowhere. His anonymous existence and home land was of course Norway, which resembles the North and the South Pole for most of the year. He made a slight detour from his back yard and his natural habitat. On this stroll, he passed Scott and his hardy explorers and planted a flag on the South Pole. How could this guy from Norway, where everybody is expected to be nobodies, beat the tough explorers from the proud British Empire? He is Norwegian, that’s all! After two years abroad I have lost touch and forgotten what actually goes into being a Norwegian. Norwegian broadcasting though is too sharp to remind me!

In Norway we have an expression; “sweat oneself to death” (å svette seg i hjel) ! Do not make the mistake and translate this into “sweat like a pig”, coz it’s not! Far from it! Sweating to death makes you think of a very hot and humid place, but wrong again! The expression originates (I swear!) in Norway and applies to Norway, the North Pole and the South Pole only. To develop a sweat under these extreme conditions can be lethal. It’s fine whilst you’re in motion and keep up the temperature. When you cool down though, sweat leads to frost, gangrene and you lose limbs or life altogether! Thus sweating to death! Norwegians are therefore not hasty and quickest of the lot, but don’t call them slow… they are just survivors! Norwegians won’t get too excited and worked up, knowing the warnings from the childhood tales. These normal Norwegian instincts are regarded as extreme survival techniques by Navy Seals, spetsnaz and other special forces. People think twice about attacking Norwegians on their home grounds. Still, Hitler attacked on April 9th (early spring), knowing that he had precious little time before the seasons changed and the Norwegians where back in their element. Those summer months proved to be the Achilles heel for Norway.

Roald Amundsen did only what came natural to him, and Scott must have been like Bambi on the ice in his eyes. As a Norwegian he was simply better fit for the task. Born in the cold (with skis on his feet of course) he was brought up with all the survival tricks like all Norwegians. It was a walk in the park for Amundsen. I should be happy and grateful, but why? You shouldn’t have to know these things. Back when vast areas of the planet were still untouched by humans, there was no sound reason to challenge the territory of the polar bear and the mammoth. Norwegians proved fitter than the mammoths and have long outlived them. Stuck in the cold, the victory is a bitter one. I wish I could have a good talk with my ancestor that was responsible for my Norwegian passport! He was a bigger schmuck than Scott for sure! Maybe I have no right complaining about my ancestors. After all I came back, and settled down in Bergen of all places! People here live in a steep hillside on top of each other. The amount of rain that pours down here can drown you in no time.

When the water pulled out from the shore in South East Asia, the elephants ran to the hills instinctively. They knew the tsunami was on its way. Likewise, people in Bergen settled in the hills. When the weather here shows its real potential, no stream or sucction will be able to cope with the amount of water. The sea level in Bergen will rise! Tales from early Norwegian settlers has shaped our instincts accordingly... just another Norwegian survival thingy. When all life is washed away and Noah's ark is searching for a place to start over again, they will be surprised to find myriads of Norwegians and elephants. So Norwegians are the chosen people whenever God finds the timing right to reset with clean sheets. Good prospects for survival in other words, but imagine what a heavy and unpleasant burden!! The burden weighs heavily on broad shoulders. From the tall Vikings, I'm down to 176cm above ground level... up in the hills!If you’re a non Norwegian, here’s a tip for ya. God will of course give his chosen people a real chance. I derive from this that the Bergen flood will not start during summer (our Achilles months, remember), but rather during the harsh months of January and February when Norwegians are in their true element! Just in case you want to improve your chances...

Future prospects for norwegians in an evolutionary perspective!

Vote to feed hungry children!

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 18:55:00 +0000

Ok ok ok! Chessia Kelley made me realize one thing. I’ve become very good at ignoring all the sad things that you see in Africa on a daily basis. In the beginning you notice it all and empty your pockets at every robot or street corner... but then some way down the road you start ignoring it all and put on this protective shield against all the sadness around.

Children begging used to hit me the hardest, but my shield has just grown too thick. Even Chessia must have felt it as I was busy ignoring her for the… I don’t know how many times now! I guess at the end of the day I am impressed by her persistent attitude and that she never gave up. Her cause is the best ever, and Chessia and her organization, International Medical Corps might be exactly what children in Africa needs. Somebody that is motivated, hard working and that does not give up! Chessia comes around as exactly that to me. She has been persistent, used flattery and given me tons of bad conscience, so I give in! My shield is down, I have now voted for International Medical Corps and I encourage readers of this blog to do the same! Just remember votes must be submitted latest on October 13th!! Your vote could give International Medical Corps $1.5 million and help a lot of children! Now go to the link below and DO IT!

http://internationalmedicalcorps.smnr.us/

A googlewhack wannabe

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 13:07:00 +0000

I watched a truly inspirational movie recently! At first it appeared to be nothing but irritainment. Not wanting to waste the evening and be irritained, I was ready to eject the disc and brows for alternatives. I just had to hang on for a short while to find out what on earth this word meant – googlewhack. It picked up quite quickly, and proved very edutaining. Living in the naughties, it’s just one of those things you have to understand and know the meaning of. It’s about flying off at a tangent and google for whatever it takes to find IT. A googlewhack per definition is a google search consisting of two words resulting in ONE hit to be exact! Not more or less, but precisely ONE! Dude, how exciting can that be?!

Googlewhacking is quite a catchy concept in fact. To make a search (with two real words) resulting in a million hits is a breeze. You can make an impossible search combination and get zero too. But to find ONE unique site is an art, and quite impressive. Forget about the content, it’s the search result itself and the joy of finding 1 that counts. That ONE hit, that site - is a googlewhack!

You can put together two words, be creative and modify to get your hits down towards 1, but it’s hard. When you’ve made it once though, it can give you a dopamine rush and be addictive like hardcore drugs. The guy in the movie starts collecting googlewhacks, but he does not stop there. He travels worldwide to visit the authors of his googlewhack sites. No doubt, with the omnipresent www, Googlewhack Anonymous will be just as common and needed as AA!

I confess! I tried a few search combinations but never found any googlewhacks. I did not want to pick up another addiction... Cyberslacking once in a while ok, but a googlewhack addict – NO WAY! That must be the ultimate irritainment! The challenge that it represents though is of course lurking in the back of my mind.

I’ve been blogging for some time now. I have even egosurfed and chuffed to know that my stuff can be easily found. Too easy and not unique enough though, so there are hardly any googlewhacks there. Although I’ve searched in vain so far, the competitive side of me wants to prove my bouncebackability. Cyberslacking and having brunch al desko, I’m pondering over my sorry googlewhack attempts. I'm putting together my own googlewhack masterplan!

I will not exhaust myself with infinite combinations of words. I will be major annoyed with myself if I fall for such irritaining activities. Rather, I will make one single attempt to make a googlewhack. Finding zero hits is SO much easier. By using some odd new words, who knows, maybe I’m a googlewhack after publishing it. I’m starting in the other end in other words. Cheating or not, and whether I find several or no googlewhacks at all, I will be at peace with my findings and abstain from ever googlewhacking again! My goal is to publish my findings, or at least leave my googlewhacks as comments to this article. Which combinations of two search words, leads to this article alone? A googlewhack may not remain a googlewhack forever, so time is precious. If anybody else finds this article to be a googlewhack – please let me know! We’re talking about a googlewhackers pride here!! When this article is live, I expect googlewhackers from around the world to knock on my door, so I better get that guest room ready!

Dictionary:

Al desko:
You work, shop and read the news whilst you have lunch “al desko”, leaving crumbs on your keyboard!

Cyberslacking:
To check e-mail, shop, chat with friends, read the news… Dodging work at work whilst you appear busy, typing away!

Edutain:
Educational fun, entertaining!

Ego-surfing:
Looking for occurrences of your name (or self published material) on the World Wide Web.

Irritainment:
Entertainment that you can’t free yourself from or waste time on

Monkey Glands

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 11:16:00 +0000

Monkey gland steak or steak with monkey gland sauce is a very South African thing. I was quite hesitant to try it out the first time, as the name itself did not appeal to my palate. I could think of many species, from gorillas, baboons to the small thieves in my in-laws’ neighborhood. Human like creatures, it’s like having the missing link on the menu – semi cannibalistic! Then glands. Not the most mouth watering part of any animal. Which glands? Armpits or groins, the menu will never tell you. With all these associations your once ravenous appetite vanishes as soon as you identify the dish on the menu. My wife convinced me to try it out though and that it had nothing to do with any monkey parts. So by now I’ve dug in a few times…

Reading a piece on the origin of the dish almost made me choke. The story starts with a scientist, Dr. Serge Abrahamovitch Vornoff (1866-1951). He caused sensation for his technique of grafting monkey testicle tissue into the testicles of men. Not just any glands in other words, but testicles! I felt seriously sick now, but still bewildered as to how the testicles could end up in a dish and become a hit?! Could "gland" be just a less repulsive cover up for a Viagra dish?

The first transplantation was so successful that Dr. Vornoff could not cope with the demand from the wealthy to arrest their advancing senility and retain former virility. Vornoff was hailed by 700 of the most leading surgeons at a congress in London for his "Revolutionary discovery of reversing the ageing process!" Quite an accomplishment and world news even today!

Vornoff set up his own monkey farm in Italy to get access to sufficient monkey balls. He occupied the entire first floor of an expensive hotel in Paris to serve as living quarters for himself, secretaries, chauffeurs and two mistresses. Vornoff injected himself on a regular basis in the hope of hard proof, fortune and fame. This must have caused swollen testicles, expectations and a pressure that must have been hard to handle! The mistresses must have been just as good for marketing as for blowing off some steam.

Dr. Vornoff was a regular visitor to the Savoy Hotel in London, and it was there that his medical experiments led to the naming of the dish Monkey Glands! It was a steak flamed with brandy in the restaurant. One of the waiters there (Bagatta), later brought the dish to Cape Town where it became popular. It is said that it had to be prepared in the restaurant to prove that there was no actual monkey glands in the dish… or testicles I assume!

Although relieved by the happy ending (of the story), I can’t help but associate this dish with monkey testicles now! Especially a type of blue balled monkeys that are quite common in Southern Africa.

My daily Apartheid

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 10:11:00 +0000

The company that I work for is not super big, but still multi in many ways! Multiple nationalities, culture, food… and quite a number of Jews also I’ve noticed. I could never pick a Jew from a crowd… fully dressed. Oh well, I see some of them wearing those small round patches on their heads. Other than that, I never really cared to find any distinct Jewish features for any reason. To me they blend in amongst the whites of the rainbow nation.

In the canteen we have different tables with hot food for lunch, really nice food. From day one I have simply picked from any table depending on what appealed to me the most at the time. I thought everybody else did also. One day when I was early there was no spoon to dish up from the tray. Naturally I helped myself and found a spoon so I could dig in. A lady tapped me on the shoulder and told me in an irritated tone that I can’t use metal (dirty I assume) spoons on the kosher table! Before any regulars at the table had a chance basically, Jonny messed up all their food! It was suddenly not so kosher anymore! Aha… so that’s why so many people at work use plastic cutlery when there are still tons of proper knives and forks to take from. Personally I think it must be damn annoying to break four plastic knives for every attempt on a piece of meat. It would ruin my meal totally!

Later I’ve learnt that there is also a halal table. Omnivore as I am, I have visited all tables. Halal too! I can’t say I have noticed any distinct kosher or halal taste. I am still blissfully unaware whether I have upset the halals or how I may have upset them. Any other groups also for that sake. I have now narrowed it down to one table where my barbaric Viking ways are accepted (as far as I’m aware of). If I move too close to either halal or kosher, I can feel the angry looks… so you’ll find me sitting down there in the corner!

In retrospect, the queues to each table have been helpful to identify and map the different groups at work. Fellow barbarians, kosher and halal at least. It’s like a small internal Apartheid going on. A buffet style group areas act! In this lunchtime segregation I am grouped together with Zulu’s and other African tribes represented. I wonder whether this can give me any BEE/Affirmative Action credits?!

Go to Hell! Sure, but where?

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 06:20:00 +0000

As a kid in Norway we used the expression “Go where the pepper grows”, meaning to the place where pepper grow (Norwegian; “Dra dit pepper’n gror!”)! This was a junior version of “Go to hell”, and one of the worst things we could throw at each other. For years I’ve been wondering why this was such a cruel thing to say? Even more so, where does pepper grow?!Firstly, nobody had any clue where this was; just that it was a very bad place! Norwegians had probably just acquired pepper and salt for cooking, and this was as adventurous as one could be in the kitchen back then. Pepper probably arrived on the same ship as the coffee beans . All we knew was that pepper was not grown in any of the nearby countries (Denmark and Sweden). That was as far as our imagination or horizon could reach. No doubt, pepper was from a place very far away!

Far away, for the purpose of sending somebody away could be good enough! If you could send this annoying person there, you should expect not to see him/her again for quite some time. Naturally though, since these orders were usually given during a fight, the bastard was not overly obedient or compelled to do so! My mindpower was under-developed at the time, so I never succeeded. It was safe to say that the moron had no clue where to head either. Pepper was not marked on any map! In fact, both parties where blissfully ignorant and unaware of the pepper’s origin or its geographical location. Why send somebody to a place you don’t know, and haven’t even confirmed as being a bad place either? It could be paradise, and far from serving your intention… There had to be some other explanation! Pepper is hot, and must come from a hot place! Hot is for some reason perceived as bad. Hell is hot (like Hell) – alas “Burn in Hell"! Hell is bad, so hot must also be bad! Any accounts of purgatory, before you even get to Hell, will tell you that it’s hot. Anything hotter than the beach in Spain (favorite holiday/roasting destination for Scandinavians) is pain and a bad place to be, no doubt! But how could we know that pepper came from a hot place? Tales from the seamen could of course have been told, retold and finally reached our ears, but not very likely. One look at the whole pepper corns can tell that they’ve been in a hot place. Roasted like straight out of Hell!

Surely we had tasted pepper, but spared of any bad burn. What the hell did we know about ring-sting?! This was of course long before chillies and jalapenos could reach us! Jalapenos and chillies are grown in hot places too, Mexico and many places around the world as far as I know. Although much hotter than pepper, we were totally oblivious of any of these chilli and jalapeno growing places. Pepper was as hot as it could knowingly get! The pepper growing area out there somewhere was the worst place imaginable. Up until recently I had no clue where to send my enemies though! A family member that lives in India came to visit short time ago. For some unknown reason she mentioned that they grow pepper there. A lifelong mystery for me was cleared up quite unexpectedly! Kerala in India to be exact! It’s probably not the only place in India or elsewhere, but at least now I have some clue where pepper is grown.

For a couple of years, we’ve been talking about going to India. Even with a long holiday, you can’t do the whole of India, but Kerala was one of our marked destinations. Without knowing it I had planned my future holiday at a place where I’ve previously wished only my worst childhood enemies! True, India had Thugs, but they don’t cause Hell anymore. How ironic?! All the Hell’s on earth that I know about and that I’ve come across are actually not bad at all! They are actually nice places and definitely not cursing material!!

However! "What happens in Hell, stays in Hell". What goes to Hell or grow there also for that matter, am I right?! As far as I know, the ticket to Hell is one way only! …and since pepper grows in India, there must be Hell on earth. Either that, or earth is in Hell. So whether I tell people to go to Hell or to the place where pepper grows, they will not be any worse off than myself! I might as well send them to Bermuda! Damn – swearing people kinda lost its sting now! Bloody useless!!

In my garden you will find chillies thriving alongside lizards and scorpions! The summers here (Pretoria, South Africa) can be hot like hell. With the recent xenophobia incidents, this is probably closer to Hell than any named Hell you will find on earth. I live here!! Somebody else’s mind power must be quite strong!

I quite like it here
Lucifer

PS! "In Rome - do like the Romans do"! When in Hell...???

Shaka Zulu revisited

noreply@blogger.com (Jonny) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 15:16:00 +0000

During Shaka Zulu’s reign, Mzilikazi fled north to escape Shaka Zulu’s violent rule. Mzilikazi, chief of the Ndwandwe tribe that was acquired and taken under the Zulu wings, decided to set up his own kingdom. With his remaining regiment and families he settled down in Matabeleland in todays Zimbabwe, where he became the King of the Matabele. Although out of reach for Shaka Zulu, they had to face other battles. The most recent one gave them reason to flee once again, away from their own country’s leader Robert Mugabe and back to South Africa.

The ironic part is that although not a major part, some of them came all the way back to the Zulu kingdom – KwaZulu Natal! Yet again, they are hunted by Zulu’s. Over the last couple of weeks, 50-60 people have been killed and thousands chased from their homes in the black townships throughout South Africa. It’s a small minority of the Zulu’s that are behind it, but people are talking about political motives. The Inkatha Freedom Party has been mentioned as the possible instigator. Perpetrators are singing “Umshini Vami” the ANC (African National Congress) freedom song (Meaning: “Give me my machine gun”) that was one of Jacob Zuma’s trademarks during the recent election. Whether it is Mangosutho Buthelezi (Inkatha) or Jacob Zuma (ANC), as well as Robert Mugabe… They are no better than Shaka Zulu for the Zimbabweans in South African exile! They run for their lives today like they did 200 years ago to escape the Zulu Impis. But where will you run now people of Matabeleland and Zimbabwe?!