Sunday, November 15, 2009

Was not was

Heaving the lethargy that is Gaborone, Botswana off to one side so as to escape is a task with no handles to make the getaway easier. Heave I did, escape I did, and get there I did. Was I not wounded the very same hour I arrived there, Jozi to be exact. A very heavy over sized bag took me out, what was in it...? Baby clothes.

Intro over/ Turds Day

Fast forward>>> /Shatty Day


A chance at seeing doe in action at the launch and Jumble Rumble 7 was one of the main motivators for the quick dash. Miss Yang Zhao partner in Doe Tees (fashioners of killer life style accompaniments) was in Jozi town to do a launch of her new tees from Doe. Mommy! The shiznit was hot from what I could get from an impromptu street fashion show right out the boot of the Morule Mini. Seeing people hustling for their dreams gets your legs twitching wanting to join in the game as well... actually a rather good inspiration, like find someone doing something that inspires you and get moving on your own thing. Who Doe know gone know.



















Faster forward>>>> /Some Day
My girls, the lounge, the music and my god the fauna. Capitol on a Someday is apparently quite the open secret. Relaxed door policies; DJ To The Xa and friends on the decks; Old Kwaito Legends looking much healthier since they must be getting longer nights in bed, ie their hustle is going strong on auto pilot; Notorious types that are infamous for once providing comic relief at a Naughty By Nature concert; hip kats and kittens as seen on Vuzu; a Black Ron Jeremy look alike, incidentally called JR, and lenses for Mahala Magazine amongst other things; Also met an equal opportunities pisser offer, Montle, who is incidentally the head poison pener at Mahala Magazine (love his ink style); and would you believe it, Miss Bling Thing her bloody self... that finished me casue I was sitting back to back with her the whole time she was there. I have been quietly hunting down that bling to get a blingterview. I think its better to interview now rather then later when she is blingiquitous and somehow pop-relevant.

Aside from the hustling, reunions, dissing, fashion forwardness and dots connecting that leads to ends connecting (networking to the unimaginative) the flood of information in one four hour evening was worth its weight in future opportunities. Ranging from collabos, to releases, to distribution, to endorsements, to inspiration, to threats of grievous body harm, to cross boarder liaisons... you know, the list was just endless. Makes you wonder what Gabs is getting so wrong when the same potential is available locally and has even more reason to be all up in that. Right now is the time, pity Botswana youth seem to prefer the final whistle as the signal to start getting their collective shit in gear.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The revolution has been Twitterlised

Another sad day at work ended on a rather exciting note. Blackness (for lack of a shittier description) was being dissected on Twitter and viciously one might add. On one side you had Americans (presumably, mainly African Americans) on the other end you had South Africans (Xhosas, Zulus, Tswanas, Swatis, Sothos, Shangans, Anglophiles, Pedis... the list is long and multi colour) Incidentally some international racists with an indiscriminate hateration policy took it upon themselves to put in cheap shots... they don't need encouraging do they?

So the issue was a Twitter Trend (or #TT) that was labeled "things darkies say." In South Africa darkie really doesn't offend as a term, heck there is even a fashion label by Themba Mngomezulu. I never once heard Themba talk about historical imbalances when referring to his label, Darkie. In America on the other hand the term was compared to the "N" word (Nigger if you like your truth straight up) All manner of absurdities went down, and suddenly as Khaya Dlanga so rightly pointed out, "Some folk r going 2 b surprised 2 find that South Africa has enough computers 2 set a trending topic. #thingsdarkiessay" Frankly home truths were outted by the innocent #TT...

One; that South Africa appears to have gone further than America in forgiving and (almost) forgetting the racial issues. Yo, like how long can you bare a grudge...? Come on!

Two; South Africa has some serias pulling power globally, where an inside joke can reach across the Atlantic and poke a community in the eye. "
#thingsdarkiessay room divider, colgate for any tooth paste, robots for traffic lights, sta soft for fabric softener, checkers for a plastic bag etc..."

Three; that peeps need to be more open. There was too much getting mad from jump without first exploring the context. "
@WendyShow omg have you seen the TT #thingsdarkiessay i think that is racist. i think u should put this topic on ur show." Smacks of trying to start a (day time talk show) mob to go get some "justice".

Four; Twitter has no balls... no sorry that's wrong. What this point should be is that Twitter is lost at sea, every day people are finding out new and culture shocking things about 140 characters. So Twitter should bite the bullet hard sometimes and let things resolve themselves. The reaction from Twitter was to over ride public opinion and remove the #TT in the midst of a lively (and for the most part, healthy) debate "
#thingsdarkiessay @Twitter You must neeeever! bring the ball back right now!"

Five; South Africans got together (once again) to voice their collective displeasure and twittoyied with #southafricansarepissed

Six; South African socialite Khanyi Mbau appears to have an intelligent sense of humor.

Seven; Its not that serias after all, but we all taught each other a thing or two. Check this, and this, don't forget this.

I wonder whats next...

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

My Favorite Bitch

There are these weird little things that just lurk out there on the internet waiting impatiently in the noise to grab you by the attention. One of these total honeys is Popbitch. Yeah man, a whole load of tasteless jokes, anecdotes, next level trash journalism of the finest order. Why? You might ask, look at it this way... this is my Generations, my Heat Mag, my Drum Mag, and most definitely my Sunday World. Its good to slum it every now and again, if not to relax your morals a bit, then maybe to question your standards a bit.

Go on click around... my next post might not be so relaxing.

Now when is Khanyi Mbau's blingsite going online...? At this time 2967 sad souls have already visited the lander site... or 4 very desperate mofo's and one serious social observer (errr that would be me, just in case you were wondering.)

So like I was saying the next thing I blog might not be so indulgent.

Monday, November 2, 2009

If only life was really that simple

Because I take photos like mad. I also don't really have a rhyme or reason for the madness. The mood just takes me... and when I resist I often find myself wondering "What if?"

This is one pic I didn't really need prompting to take. It is one of those pictures where you can say, this is where it all started... if it is a picture that will gain that sort of relevance in later life.

Motheo and Zingisa are really only aware of each other becasue their parents know each other. How that relationship came into being is not documented as well as Motheo and Zingisa's whole thing will be.

Once while leaving some fancy ass art gallery in Trafalgar Square, London when I was 19 and basically living away from home for the first time, I was stopped by a researcher from the gallery who wanted to know what I thought about the whole experience. Finally she asked me what I would like to have seen in the exhibition. Instantly I knew what it was. The work of the artists when they were much, much younger, before they became apprentices or art students. In my mind I saw some squiggles on a wall somewhere and a very tenuous link with the frankly mind altering works of art in that fancy gallery. She gaped a bit and also thought it was a good idea. We left it at that and have never been back to that place since.

So I shot a random picture of two babies. Its very isolated in that it purposely focused on the bambinos, there is no real sense of space, time or occasion in the composition. Their interaction can be read in millions of ways... but I still live in the hope that I caught something special here. Wouldn't it be grand to present something like this to a newly married couple, pointing out that this was them at the very beginning...

If only life was really that simple.