Eyes black, big paws and, it's poison

There's a song that's grown on me, by Fever Ray -  and I've listened to a few other songs of theirs: negative. It's not the sort of song that usually would get stuck in my head, so I'm not sure if I should be disturbed with my preference or if I'm just broadening my tastes (which given the nature of the song, I scheme would be disturbing in any case). It was written specially for Red Riding Hood (which wasn't all too great in itself - but I enjoyed it nonetheless [it was good to see Billy Burke playing a role directly opposite to his meek one in Twilight]).

 But, go ahead and taste this one, and tell me if your palate agrees with me. It's called, "The Wolf".

Uncle Bruce

Living in South Africa makes me feel like this rare and exotic creature. Well, it did during the FIFA Soccer World-Cup 2010 anyway. At the moment, I just feel like this crazy character from one of Steven Spielberg’s films, who keeps going through the same motions every single day – like they’re stuck in a time loop, you know? The only difference is, the details change.

I plan on moving out of this country in any case. Give it five to six years and then I’m packing my bags and exiting sharpish. As they say, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. I scheme it’s my only chance to actually live – without the fear of being hijacked at gun point right outside your front gate. I mean, just this morning, my dad was telling me, “If they try to hijack you, give them the keys. Throw it to them and move away from the car. Don’t try to be a hero or anything”. I’d nodded sagely and assured him that I would NOT try to take out one of my would be hijackers all by my lonesome 4.75 year old self. And besides that, Uncle Bruce (well he’s not my real uncle or anything – but I’ve known him for like EVER, he even painted faces at a few of my birthday parties when I was a kid) got shot right outside his flat. 


He hears this girl screaming, and runs (like a great gun) after the perp who tried to force entry into her house.
“Next thing you know – now it’s like something out of a horror movie," goes Uncle Bruce, "no, even the scariest horror movie you’ve seen isn’t like this – bha bha bha bha, these bullets are flying everywhere, there I’m ducking and covering my head, and I’m terrified and you have bullets ricocheting off the walls and I don’t know which one is coming from where and next thing, I feel like someone blew up my leg! And down I’m on the floor and this guy comes up to me with the gun in his hand, looks down at me, point blank range, aims the gun while looking into my eyes and I’m thinking, ‘it’s over. I’m gonna die. It’s THE END’, and ‘click click’, the gun is empty. But he goes over to Vinesh and does the same thing, ‘click click’. Can you believe it? The sadism? I tell you these people. No regard for human life! And then he walks away, calm as you please. Now I’m lying here in a pool of blood, and this young girl after hearing the bullets runs downstairs when everything is quiet, and starts screaming, ‘oh my GOD, Uncle Bruce! Just look at you! Look at your leg!’ and this child is sobbing and she runs to Vinesh, ‘oh my GOD Vinesh! You’re bleeding too!’ and she runs back to me, ‘oh my GOD! OH MY GOD!’ and she’s running back and forth between us and all I’m thinking is, ‘call a bloody ambulance you little chit’,” and that’s his version of what happened - which I'm pretty sure, is pretty accurate. Anyway, Uncle Bruce showed us his x-rays, he looks really cool, like wolverine – he’s got these metal rods stuck in him.
“Well, Uncle Bruce,” I told him when we were leaving after visiting him, “I’ve learnt one thing from you at least.”

“Yeah, what’s that my angel?” he asks.

“Never run after a guy with a gun”.

He used some colourful words to describe me after that, but he was smiling. That’s Uncle Bruce for you, shot up and bed bound, but still taking the piss out of life. Oh I love him. And so would you, if you knew him that is.

The Real WMD

I was watching CNN today and heard, "The president said he was making good on his 2008 campaign pledge to end a war," and I thought to myself, about time. And then I heard the rest of it, "that has divided the nation since it began in 2003, and claimed more than 4,400 American lives." And the gross injustice of it all slammed into my gut like a sucker punch. 
Type in "Iraq War" in Google Images and you're bombarded with images of US troops. Type in "Iraqi lives lost in war" in Google Web and the first link will point you to your required  website, while the next six or so will link you to the heroic deaths of US troops. The Iraqi death toll as estimated last year, 2010 (reported by ABC News), was over 100 000. None of these news reports now even make mention of that fact - which, I'm sure, has grown since. Forget troops, Iraqi CIVILIANS, hundreds of thousands of them, have paid the ultimate price. 

But how many people stop to think of all of that? Why is it, that the lives of 4,400 American's is worth more than 100 000 (+) Iraqi's? It is, undoubtedly, a good decision to pull US troops out of Iraq, but what I DO NOT CONDONE, is the way US troops are painted as such heroic martyrs - especially since, if they hadn't gone in there in the first place, there wouldn't be this huge bloody mess to contend with. 
Has this war on Iraq divided the American nation? Well, it has gutted  the Iraqi nation. It has wiped out entire families; maimed innocent civilians; parents have had to bury their children; children's' dreams for their future were simply, 'to be alive' - actually for many, even that was worse than not to be.
I find it intolerably disgusting, when the value of a human life varies according to which nation you belong to. The real weapon of mass destruction, is the debasing of human life - to believe that a peoples life is lesser to ones own, is to believe that the loss of that life is inconsequential - it's how every war began.

Today, I'm an Alpha B!tc#

Today was one of those days, where nearly everyone who tried to have a conversation with me (over the age of like 15) got themselves onto my, "I want to punch you in the nose" list. 
It got to a stage, where this old guy thought he was being absolutely hilarious and instead of giving me my damn KFC Brownie Avalanche, decided to make wierd-not-even-remotely-within-the-realm-of-funny jokes. There I was, window rolled down, leaning half my body out of the bloody car (coz yes, I am Smurf-sized), and he goes on wheezing like it's the most hilarious part of his day. And then he stops, and looks at me expectantly, as if I'm supposed to burst into ridiculous guffaws too. 
"I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!" I yelled.
In my mind.
In reality, I said, "It's so hot, please can I have my ice-cream now" and smiled  (no, not a snarl), an actual (fake to the power of China) smile. 
Yes, that is an original Dash sketch. Pulled out of the archives. Highly appropriate considering my vicious mood.
Dear Karma, I hope you're making a note of this, you owe me one.