Eish!

I don’t own a TV.

This is partly because I secretly enjoy telling people that I don’t pay my TV license because it’s the right thing to do. It’s also partly because the internet is jammed pack full of awesomeness that I can rely on it for all my amusements, abusements and bemusements.

It’s been a long and eventful journey since my first taste of the world-wide-wait. Now I crave it from my parched intellect to my my starving need to be entertained. Herewith follows an (almost) chronological account of all the poignant moments in my web-surfing career, the highlights, the old faithfuls and once-a-day fixes.

If you are not familiar with these gems already, it will only serve to highlight your diminuative age or your complete and utter failure of ever having grasped what the internet was created for in the first place. Don’t be embarrassed, like athlete’s foot, it can be cured slowly.

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Halloween, contrary to some belief, is not a Yanky festival.

It actually has it’s origins in Celtic tradition. That’s right, it was the Irish who taught us to let our children dress up as freaks and knock on strangers’ doors asking for sweeties (I live opposite a primary school, it’s normally the other way round).

I’m tasked this year with constructing a Halloween playlist and it’s turning out to be quite an intellectual mind-bender. Here’s the shortlist so far. Starting with the obvious choices:

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…and take them on a tour of the facilities. It’s the WAB [1] equivalent of ambling around with a clipboard to look important.

This reminds me of a  meta-study performed on various public surveys where people on the street had to fill in personal details on a clipboard. It turned out that a higher percentage of individuals than expected are CEOs of their own blue-chip companies, several participants where named after K. Kong and the average earning potential left a gap in the GDP so large that the revenue service died of boredom and got reincarnated as “cash only” showgirl.

These are great times. Great Times.

—-

[1] Work Avoidance Behaviour

Today I prepare myself mentally…

…having prepared myself physically for the arduous challenge of tackling the Fish River Canyon starting this Sunday. A wild five day jaunt without a tent or a paddle.

Training has been rigorous and the regime is largely based on:

• waking up early
• forgoing (or is it forsaking) coffee-first-thing for tea-second-thing
• finding a slow fat dog to walk with
• preferably around a dam or (better yet) a puddle to “get in the mood”
• wearing a hat

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I’ve been giving some more thought to this quandary.

Zeno was very clearly an under-achiever, came left with girls and suffered from premature balding. This latter point is easily shown in his theory about the hair that never quite makes its destination.

None of this explains the tortoise though and how it fits in to the bigger picture. I can only assume he used one as some kind of hat.

That he was an under-achiever is easily understood. His paradox is riddle with the inability to reach the goal post, something he managed to justify metaphorically. This genius is lamentable and I can only wish that I had thought of using it for myself at school. It certainly applies quite well to:

• the queue in the Home Affairs Office
• the Post-Office
• my inbox
• come to think of it, my outbox too

Admittedly that is all the thought I’ve given the matter. It wasn’t really that interesting to begin with.

<Insert Name Here> has a name inserted.

It is quite a seemingly difficult task choosing a name for your first born child but the Parental Units have made a decision.

<Sienna>

Or, given modern spellings, the options could range from: Psienna, Seehenna, Psyena, Seyena, Ciena, Siennah, etc. They did not specify the spelling and I naturally assumed that there might be a silent P in there somewhere.

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Occasionally I write things down.

This apart from the obvious bits and pieces that end up here burning your eyes. Occasionally I do actually write something serious or stand up and make myself heard. I’ve done it for some time and thankfully no-one has asked me to stop. No-one I’ve heard from up here anyway. Midgets.

I also wrap presents in a presentable (hur hur) fashion. No-one will ever  ask you to stop doing that. Mind you, the A.P.B. is significantly more talented than I am, managing to wrap an entire wicker basket into a shape closely resembling a wicker basket. It was wicked.

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Oh Crepe: It seems as if, well, like, you know, it kind of, well is on the Breede River. This is embarrassing. Corrections have been made. To the post that is, not to the Breede River.

We just went Up the Creek and remarkably withheld all obvious jokes about no paddles and Breede Sharks.

A paddle is probably not really what you want when facing off an ill-tempered Breede Shark. They are stronger, larger and possibly hungrier than your silly paddle. Besides, Up the Creek is not on the Breede River, it is on the River Without a Duck. Getting yourself a duck would be more appropriate. Besides, Up the Creek is not on the River Without a Duck. Getting yourself a duck would be inappropriate no matter haw badly I cock this post up.

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The Womble gave birth yesterday.

A lovely little girl I’m told and I can only believe it. She is cursed with good genes. Short hairy genes but good ones nonetheless. I still need to pop round and go and see for myself. I need to borrow a camping chair for Up the Creek anyway.

I’m told there are no hooves, extra digits nor excessive body hair which is good.

She hasn’t written her first sonata yet, though, which is bad. There is not much time left to qualify for Musical Prodigy and she needs to start immediately. After this brief window period she’ll be forced to compete in circus acts to make a mark in this world.

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I’m not often intimidated by the animal kingdom.

Actually, this is a blatant lie. There are many species that I that I am afraid of: dodgy Thai prawns for a start; stingrays; dogs with orange eyebrows; most snails and belligerent tortoises.

It is the latter that drew my attention this weekend. As a student of Esop and with an Ephebian flair for practical philosophy I can say with some certainty that there is a subtle fallacy involved in the story of the  Tortoise and the Hare.

The tortoise is commonly regarded as the underdog in this fable. Yet when compared to the hare on a purely zoological scale, there is not much of an advantage that the hare can expect.

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