Love Leaves Loose tongues.

Loose tongues made Love. Loose tongues start love. Loose tongues make love. Loose tongues end love. Loose tongues start war... Love leaves loose tongues. Love leaves cause of loose tongues.

Time

I struggle with this quite a bit. I know what has to be done. I just prefer putting it off for a later stage. Which is horrible. Because I end up getting unnecessarily stressed, and/or late. For that reason, I'm challenging myself over the next 5 weeks to get my ducks in a row in terms of academics, health and (wealth.)

May the gods of the soul be with me through this...

Jess would get it

If I had to get a pet, I'd get a whale. Cause, you know, I don't have to go around the hood clening poo and apologising to neighbours. We'd struggle at feeding time though.

Gratitude

I wake up everyday. Not knowing what awaits me. Not wanting to know. You're the Greatest part of my life. Sometimes i refuse to acknowledge You. You are there, even when i want to escape You. Your reassurance, comfort, love, and patience. Dangle over me, with or without me seeking. I lose myself ever so often, but You find me. I find me in You. I don't live by Your rules, i'll be damned if i do. I don't want to be perfect for You, i want to be perfected by You. Make my mistakes, and live through the consequences. For. At the end of it all. Is that glory. That happiness. I seek to have, eternally. In my soul. Thank You. For having my back!

(01 March 2010)

Love and love...

In this moment...
I bow down ta thee... Respect ye so high. Precious gift you gave, you give. Of love. So sincere. So profound. To find it, to share it. Oh the bliss from it. Beyond all measures upon yours. I get lost just thinkin of bou it. Tinglies all over my bod. But how we waste it. Abuse it. Miss the point of it! Let's love...

(09 September 2009)

Fare ye well...

Our created spaces. Are you and me. Our created moments. Are us and we. Our created places. In our hearts they be. Our love delivers us to a heaven beyond God's. Yet we remain grounded. Upon this supercilious land. Physical forms cannot move us. We've been bonded before our time to remain beyond our time.

(24 May 2009)

Prayer (To be said when it's difficult to pray)

Lord, I am trying to pray but I am without any sense of You or Your presence; I do not want to be like this. Please help me to continue praying no matter how dead I feel. I am not even sure that I want to pray; make me keep on tryin and in your good time, give me a sense of your presence. it is so hard to continue without it, and i am very weak, i do not think that i can stay this way much longer, so please help me soon, o lord. lord, it is so difficult to start prayin that i want to get up and leave. stop me, make me stay. lord, blanket the thoughts about my daily life, which deep runnin through my mind, an let me know that you are close. it's wonderful when i feel your love in this way. if this is not right for me today, give me strength to stay put with you in darkness, and help me to know you are as much in this as in the warmth and light.

The Last Kiss

Wow, that movie gets me everytime. And I've watched it more than 15 times. But there's something Jenna's Dad says, right after Michael cheats that's just mind blowing. That might be too much, but it's close to mind blowing. I'll use powerful, I think that's better.

"It's not about feeling. It's about doing. Cause what you feel, only matters to yourself. But what you do, you do to others. You show them. That's what happens."

Iphi inkinga bhuti?

Dear African Brother.

This is addressed to You because, because men from other races rarely exhibit such revolting behaviour. Where is the issue my brother? Yes, this was written in IsiZulu so it's directly translated, pardon me. Why do You have to touch my arm? Or try kiss my face? Can You not just ask me to stop, politely. You can say "Hi" and let me continue walking. I'm not saying I'll consider Your proposal, but honestly I prefer You hollering "You're beautiful" from a distance than all the bullshit You do. On top of that, You insult me by calling me, and my Mother, all sorts of names. Do You even know my Mother? She's more of a woman than Your Mother will ever be. Purely because she raised me, and I'm a decent human being. I don't walk around uttering all sorts of profanity in the presence of other humans. Especially for something as trivial as not responding to someone's hello. Kahle kahle, iphi inkinga bhuti?

Crash

I watched Crash once. I think it left me a little traumatized, to be honest. But, this is what I remember from it:

"I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something..."

...and it's quite relevant.

She-strong

I've been weak. I've been sad. I've been heartbroken. I've cried. I've felt like death. Defeated. Unimportant. Irrelevant. I've felt shattered. I've stumbled, I've fallen. But I'm strong. I'm so strong. My strength, it surprises me. Because. Without it, I wouldn't have gotten over each of those emotions and states. I am strong. I keep growing stronger. I am strong. I am strength.

(14-08-2011)

Californication

"It's a big bad world filled with twists and turns and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment. The moment that could've changed everything." - Hank Moody

Growingpains

I have the scars from my youth. To show that I lived. When i return to my home planet, they'll know I was alive - on Earth.

Women's Month...

Wow. This is a lot. Didn't even think about it, but now that I am, I guess I should.

Firstly, I am a daughter, a niece, a sister, an aunt, and a godmother.

Spring has Sprung and so am I!

This has NOTHING to do with my feelings. Sorry to disappoint, but it really sounded cool.

So yesterday I was schooled by uBhut Aubrey [www.twitter.com/aubreyinexcess] on seasons, something I thought I'd mastered in '94. Spring starts in August, so today's the first day of Spring - so Happy Spring Day people. And because it's my Birthday season, and a nice season in general, I thought I'd share something I read in last year's September issue of Oprah magazine.

And it goes a lil' something like this:

"Spring has sprung, so we can shake off winter's doldrums and entertain the heady possibilities of the season of renewal. This month, we're encouraged to see things in a new way. Worried you'll fall down? Go ahead. The world looks different from the ground. It's a great opportunity to set aside preconceived ideas about mr right, what it means to be a family, and your body. A changed perspective may be all you need for a fresh start."

I Have Learn(ed)

I guess, this is my, I Have Learnt note...

Ihavelearnt, that smiling is the best thing you can do. That people lie, and lie and lie some more, I'm not sure why. That, being true to yourself is what will keep you above the water. That, unconditional love is non-fiction, it is as real as these fingers I type with. That, to get ahead, to get somewhere, you have to start from the beginning. That when you've hit rock-bottom the only place to go is up. That, listening to other people, gossiping and the like - will get you nowhere but the angry corner. That doing things out of anger won't make you feel any better. That faith, is your strongest weapon. That believing in yourself, makes everything come true. That wishes do come true. That love is evil. Or evol.

But most importantly, I've learnt that life is for living.

(Written: 19/10/10)

Daydreams at 01:00

Fuck around and get killed like doof doof doof

For The Ladies :)

I don't usually do this, but uh, I have oily skin. And since sharing is caring - here's my piece.

You'll need:
-1 teaspoon of cooked pumpkin puree
-1 teaspoon of honey
-1 teaspoon of vinegar
-1 teaspoon of flour
-1 egg

Mix them together into a paste. Apply onto your face and leave on for 20 minutes. Do NOT apply on your eyes. Rinse it off (after 20 minutes) with warm water then pat dry.

Two...

Sometimes not feeling, is the only way you can survive.

Peanuts!

The next couple of posts, I wrote a while ago. A long while actually. But, there was no sun or moon, in that while. The fire of the stars was also out. Bear with me, I'll post them individually. They make sense that way. To me. Goodluck.

Certainly...

I know God wouldn't give me anythiing I can't handle, I just wish He didn't trust me so much.

Desolate

Dissolving is big, 'cause there's still a remaining mass - of you. Disappearing, however, would be more appropriate.

Five Words

Money kills, spend on alcohol.

Gratitude Journal: Entry One

Thank you for tonight's laughs. The conversations. The learning. My amazing sisters, sharing my dreams with them. Their gratitude. Thank you for my friends. This nutjob Pearl, my stomach will be, because of her. Thank you for my knowledge, my eagerness to know and learn, and explore. For that walk with Thanti. The patience you instilled in me today. For this moment to type this out. For the hopes, the dreams. Thank you for the faith. I have. In me, in You. Amen.

Thank you for the relations I am building.

(Typed at 01:40, 20/07/11)

Defining Beauty, I don't know..., I don't know...

I've never understood that "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." idiom or whatever . I get it when there's beer involved, though.

Whoever said "Beauty is the promise of happiness" clearly hadn't met me! Which is true, I believe Stendhal died a while back... 169 years to be precise. Shame. Rest in Peace.

It's a lovely promise I won't lie. But seriously, there's even a song that says "If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife." That is proof my dears. Proof that pretty people are the reason behind all the suicides.

Essentially, I don't believe there's a written promise to happiness. And I think that that's what this piece is about. Find your own happiness, not in someone's idea. And if your happiness is in something beautiful, then HEY, Stendhal was right! And you're pretty lucky, I think.

My (beauty)

No Sweeter Love...

I make you mad, really mad at times. I don't always do right by you. I ignore you sometimes. I burden you with my unending requests, unnecessary questions. I keep you up at night, sometimes all night. I don't even know how it started. My guess though...

My guess is, as good as my gut right now. And it's firm on that warm day in February. Something didn't quite happen, as it should. How grateful I am, coz you could've brought it back. But you didn't. You chose me.

A couple of months passed, you hoped otherwise. But I came out - round and pink. And, not a boy! The bond was created way before alla that though.

My mother... I love that lady but I swear sometimes she's on Charlie Sheen vibes, always WINNING on Colombia's finest! The only woman I know who laughs at her last-born after getting mugged at gunpoint. But I digs that laugh... There's reassurance in it. That everything is still okay. "He didn't shoot you, right?" That kinda laugh. If her laugh could be translated to speech it would say, "It could've been worse."

I'm not lucky to have her, bitch I'm blessed! Oh fudge it, Does it matter? She's mine and she's the best she can be. I don't know if that's the best in the world, but it's enough.

Ta-Da

I don't know how, you guys see me. In what light, how you, perceive me. I'm pretty but that's all you see. I barely speak, even with friends too. I observe a lot. I spend a lot of time on my phone, sometimes I'm called rude, they don't know that I'm writing stuff all the time. Ideas. Thoughts. Anything. I mean, I like cows. And touching faces. And stones and I had a pet lizard. I kept locusts in a Black Cat peanut butter jar, and FED them. I wanna lie still on a boy I like and listen to his heartbeat, trace his body. I can do that for thirty minutes. I have lots of pauses, in my speech and especially in my writing. But that's how I think. Ask, don't assume.

".

I'm furthest from sobriety... Right now. But it must be said. We've lost the whole essence of dating. Part of the reasons why I don't just date. For me to entertain the bullshit that is a man, the feelings must be there. Another reason why I might turn to drugs and drank, coz I mean. I aint tryna be bored. Niggas hollerin all the time, it gets tired. Someone who notices my small ears, my big eyes - that's it. That's all it's about.

(At the time I wrote this, I was nowhere.)

Third. World. Citizen.

This too needs a beginning.

Those of the day? I can't mind them much, beyond the parameters within which I have to tolerate them. What of the day itself then? Not just any day, but a day in a CBD.

It can't make me happy. In fact, it annoys me so much it feels as if my facial moles are standing. I prefer the night. The lights, the life, the stars, the like. Daylight is, cluttered. Noisy. Bustling. Greedy. Selfish. Filthy. Someone's always trying to get somewhere. Always pushing against you. Rubbing against you. Bumping into you. Forgetting that they smell no better than a stable. There's limited space; there's a million others like him, her and you.

Standing still to consume it all only makes your standing, worse. They don't throw tomatoes at you, but rather sword-sharp profanities. Because you're in their way, or worse - you won't respond to their advances. Which you find most-puzzling, as they've clearly not glanced at the mirror, lately. Am I expected to take manure-talking, buffalo-looking humans seriously? Just because they have penises? Cause if that's the case, then slap me dizzy with a toothpick, however you manage that cause clearly I'm stuck on Zero, where such isn't tolerated!

Sadly, the world is not convenient enough for us to take detours long enough to avoid the CBD. At some point, sometimes daily, we have to have these horrendous run-ins with the CBD-dwellers. I survive these incidents by ignoring them, the culprits. Or by cursing them out, under my breath of course. And my favourite - VENTING, soon as I reach my destination. I dare not do this in their presence, I love my face too much!

The vile that lives. Within us. In us. Forces us to act, in the most disgusting ways. The poison that is manufactured by, and in our minds. That forces us to act, in the most disgusting ways. The voice of corruption, tells him to make advances at me, forcefully. Forces me slander against her.

With the passing of time, new issues arise. We move away from rape, famine, epidemics. We focus on the oil spills, the world cup, the war, the dictators. We forget the man in the village. Robbing the clueless of the pleasures they should one day, when grown, relish... Until they're once again brought to our attention. In passing. In those moments that we forget, this deadly killer is multiplying. Finding a new victim. Spread love. Spread awareness. I'm tryna say, be aware. At all times. Be aware. If not for yourself, for the next person.

The Architecture of Happiness

I haven't read the book, but from the reviews I gather it's nothing to have a Hippie-party over. Hence I'm blogging about its title. But apparently, the book addresses the importance of beauty. Which, I'll get to. Sometime.

The Architecture of Happiness - quite a construct! Architecture? Isn't that something to do with buildings? Construction... Structures and stuff. So what they are saying is that, I can build my happiness? Erect it? I'm sure men agree with that hey? That (an) erection is the foundation of happiness, hey? Alright let me stop.

The big question here, however, is: How? How do I construct happiness? Is there a manual I can order on Amazon? Can I get a copy at Exclusive? Or is it maybe a physical object I can keep in my Mary Poppins? This is a revolution. Many dreams are based on this. Which human doesn't strive for happiness? And now they're suggesting that Happiness, is as easy as A-B-C! Or rather, as easy as flipping a page. Unless you can't read of course. Someone needs to holla at Dr Phil, Buddha and Jamie Oliver about their 'books to happy living' and tell em FALL BACK. The secret to life is here. Permanent Happiness can now be found at your local bookshop. BUST!

Jerking back to reality, 'The Architecture of Happiness' is a beautiful theory. But. Personally, I think it's some bullshit, the concept that is. As convincing as the title sounds. It sells us quite a large dream. But I guess I won't really understand until I read it, the actual book. Which I should probably do. One day.

The importance of beauty though, is a way to happiness. The importance of recognising beauty, to be precise. Depending on the context, as well as the object of beauty. I hate how people understand 'beauty' in physical terms only. That's how we fail at life. Butterflies fluttering their wings colleting pollen, and in turn making me death-sick, is a form of beauty. And so is the birth of a birth of a cow. Disgusting, yet breathtaking. It's the little things that we miss. And then we complain about the miserable lives we lead.

From what I know, happiness starts from within. You cannot build nor buy it. You can't read about it or see it, and instantly feel it. Unless you're already happy. It starts with you, in you.

...and that's me in a somewhat happy state. I've got lipgloss, I'm with my friends AND I'm at the beach. A slice of Happiness.

Battle Society

Relevance is a demon I'm learning to tame. At my pace. This has absolutely nothing to do with my social standing, whatever that may be. I have wild ideas, about everything. Heck, I struggle with indentifying between intuition and logic. Who does that?!

I have no interest in this 'I'm a socialite.' dream. I can't even define that word. In my head however, it lies somewhere between whore and well, whore. Male and female. But as I've said - I have no business defining your lifestyle nor deciding your attitude.

I'm talking real nigga shit, which is my code for "Hey, I really just wanna make a noise 'cause a thought jumped at me." It's really more of a mini struggle, against myself, maybe. My mind, or intuition. Or that, force rather. It's more a case of Relevance to the World. What am I doing as Phelisa to make their situation better? Her life better? How am I making her smile? Or spreading love? That to me, means so much more than being dressed by Hip Hop, or being an MC at a specific brand launch. Truth be told, fly as they are - the ladies I see on my tv or on magazines are doing jack for me, and my neighbour. I know this because my neighbour is a geriatric who works at the Hospice, and doesn't even know who Justin Bierber is! When she's not at work, she spends her days with a bottle of whatever then proceeds to fight the demons that accompany the Drink, I call it hallucinating.

I'm not trying to be all goody-goody, but these things actually concern me. Giving a helping hand where I can makes my heart smile. I imagine it turns yellow. It could be that colour though, 'cause I've got some fat 'round those regions. But that's a story for another day. Maybe what I'm saying is, as much as I hate or admire or criticize, or even aspire to be, celebrities and/or socialites - their lives are not affecting me directly. My path has nothing to do with them, I'm just doing my best at this ME business. Do you, don't rub it in my face or act like you're God's gift to me. And I'll continue living.

Thinking Out Loud

God bless the man with a female friend. As ruined as he might be, he has someone to run to when he's too much of a coward to come to you. Someone who'll make him more aware of his assiness. Someone to guide and advise him, lead him back to sanity. These women restore faith in other women, worldwide. They make sure that their boys move away from douche, but towards decent. Some don't perfect it, but what's life if it aint about trying.

Thank you, for reminding him that he has a girlfriend when he's too drunk at the club and feeling on booty's. For having his back, looking out for him. For making sure his confidence is okay. Thank you for being that friend.

MY Rights...

The greatness that is a national holiday... But as humans, we keep getting the essence wrong. I could actually be the one who gets it wrong but 'cause my head's too stuck up my own ass, I don't realise it. However, I'll continue believing it's a day to remember, even for a second, those who took the stand to make it possible for us, to be.

Not a day to be starting riots and cursing white humans. I'll cuss them out anyday and everyday if I feel like it, thank you. It frustrates me that people have unsaid expectations of sort. Should I be carrying banners protesting in the streets or something? Is that what the rest of you are doing while I bob my head to Kanye West samples? Or maybe I should take the easier route and send chain texts quoting Dick Johnson and Rita James who were killed in 1960 rather. That could just do the trick. I may be curled up on this couch, but that doesn't mean I don't acknowledge their contribution to what is. The same goes for the other national holidays, Heritage Day especially. I'm starting to hate that day actually. Humans see it as priority to always be on my ass, accusing me of not knowing my heritage. Tricks and pricks PLEASE! I won't walk around in traditional attire chanting the 'Ingqumbo yeminyanya' theme song to prove to you exactly what I am. I choose what language I speak, and I owe you nothing. My parents can't ducktape me with a 9 milli 'gainst my temple dictating my life, neither should you.

But on this Human Rights Day, I'm being called ignorant and ungrateful. All this for sitting at home, phone in hand with my earphones plugged in, listening to American rappers. Ever think that maybe I am actually exercising a right? A right to relaxation, more especially, a right to do what makes me happy? No. And here I was thinking happiness is a basic Human Right. So kindly, SOD OFF. I run this ship.

Cyberspace Hostilities...

Like the assumptions of the great laws and theories we're taught over the years, here's a couple of conditions to roll with. Firstly, I'm not 16. Secondly, I have a brain which I strive to use to 'average capacity.'

The two above-mentiond useless facts should immediately make it clear to you that I'd rather pillage mice than involve myself in such. And by such, I mean TWARS. Special word aint it? All thanx to the revolution that is Twitter! The first three or five internet quarrels were funny. Well, they got me chuckling a bit, pitying the losing party more than anything though. But after that the whole indaba was as entertaining as SABC tv weekend-programming, and as heartfelt as those dumb-ass love quotes females so often choose to live by.

Yes I talk a shit load of bull, it's in my nature. And at any given moment in time I'll be bullshitting someone. But don't confuse that with being dumb. If you're into the whole twar thing, you're an idiot! Don't argue, just nod in acceptance. What's disturbing about this though, is that 98% of the time the 'war' is between females. I'll give you a $1 000 000 if you can correctly guess what sparks the whole thing. Okay you took too long. But the actual cause is infact, a knob! Well maybe a text from the side-chick or the new interest, which you happened to 'bump' into. But ultimately, it centres around a knob! Wow ladies, wow! You never cease to amaze me! My only question is, why? If you're willing to lose your 'dignity' that easily, what else are you capable of doing? Can you imagine what I think of you? No you can't. But I'll do you the favour of telling you that, I actually have more respect for a diseased chicken than I do for you. But hey, I'm a tortured soul so don't pay mind to my words. Keeping quiet might earn you less points, less 'beast' status, but at the end of the day you still have your worth. And my respect, which is paramount!

Stop embarrassing yourself, the internet is just that - the internet! Stupidity is a such a strong force, like a black hole of sort. Always trying to suck someone in. Do the right thing, earn my respect. Choose logic babe.

Hurt me soul

I'd like to believe that I don't have a problem with homosexuals. As long as they stick to the terms of our unspoken contract, we're good. This contract simply says: "Stay the FUCK away from my man!" And anyone else I might look at, in parenthesis.

However, a problem does arise when they retain their masculinity but push feminine swag. That's when my uni-brow furrows a tad. I hate the word 'swag' but it's rather fitting in this context. And by swag I mean purple weaves, white blouses, pink nail colour, flower-top rings nshit. No, okay? Cut it out. Oh, and fat gays? No sight is more disgusting! Actually, there is. But I'll stick to the script, can't have you hurling your diaphragm out this early. So, back to my point. Lose that weight, re-apply for your dignity, THEN come out. I'll love you eternaly if you do.

With all this though, the worst mistake a gay human can make is to be below-average. This is of course in terms of style. It's bad enough that you're gay AND decreasing my chances at finding 'the one' but now you gotta look bad too? I mean, come the fuck on. It's by statute that your kind looks good, AT ALL TIMES! What went wrong with you? Which straight man will look at you in those bell-bottom velvet pants & 60's JERSEY? We all know they aint designer, trust! Been out lately? There's this garment that's gained much popularity, especially from your kind. It's called a cardigan.

Maybe I'm saying, don't be gay if you can't afford it. But that'd be heartless of me. So maybe just, keep it to yourself until you get a clue? You making the other lovables look bad! All the best. I thank you.

You are what you do?

It's tricky in the streets of Whoreville.

My definition of the word 'whore' is of course senselessly retarded! And I use it loosely, call me tongue-happy. Only because I'm Phelisa.

Unless you're open about your hoefession, oops I mean profession - I will not judge you. Nothing more vein-piercing than a whore pretending to be Mary. Actually no, Mary was a dirty girl! Let's say, Jemimah. Only because I refuse to believe that a human with such a hideous name can trick-a-lot. And because it means "dove," which traditionally symbolises peace. By judge I mean, ridicule you and possibly plan your stonage. By stonage I mean, the process of stoning you. To death. Yes. Okay I lie. Just. Stop. Tricking. It's not healthy. You can't afford to lose the remaining pin-head size of respect the world has for you. A single vodka-cranberry is not worth your oowee! Do the Math. How many times do you drink in a week??

She lives, that Aids. Her spawn poised on every barstool, waiting for you.

Anele...

"I miss the days of old, thinking about you. You may be gone, but you're never over." - Marshall Mathers.

Three years later and it still feels like a dream. A foggy dream. Irritating foggy dream. Like I'll break for vac and see you. But you're in another world. I'm constantly reassured. I wonder about you. What you do. If anything. Is there college in heaven? Obviously Theology is a requisite MAJOR. Right?! Seeing anyone? What happens when you go to sleep, does He sing you lullaby? Do you have a curfew? You must get sad if you can't go to a gig. Hell, is there even such an emotion there?! Sadness. We carry it around. It's become a part of us. Is everyone up there? Even people from Cambodia??

So much happens, happened. I have to shut my eyes tighter than Asian eyes to see your face. I live in the hope of seeing you again. I guess. With everyday's close, I'm a day closer. Forever.

"You owe me 36 weeks, and a few more years."

Something has recently caught my attention, it's nothing I condone really. And honestly, most people wouldn't make much of it. Call me silly but, I don't get why I should pay rent at home as soon as I start working. It disturbs me how this current has become so prevalant, especially in the townships.

I don't understand this trend, and I'd be damned if my mother pulled such a stunt. Actually, I'd slap her. I've never hit anything larger than a mosquito but I had a mean backhand in Squash; I'm certain my actual backhand would leave a face dented if I displayed my violent streak. Leave one begging for dentures. I have no idea why you'd have a kid only to make her pay for living with you 20+ years later. Are you taking revenge for the nine months I was in your tum? The sleepless nights, the swollen breasts and the stupid cravings? It's probably the clothing hey, as well as the good education I received. For all I know, the gods could have whispered in your ears, the possibilties are infinite! However, I'm convinced it's all the poop I couldn't wipe off my backside for a good four years. Yes, that's it, right? I mean, all the mess I consumed from breastmilk to baby porridge, crayons and even bugs! Surely there was MURDER coming out my rear and you couldn't bare it. You had to of course, because "you're Mummy, and Nanny's off." It was in those moments when you devised the cunning plan. To make me pay. One day.

Well, pardon me Mother, and Father. I was being my usual tardy self, I did not think before accusing you of greed, stupidity and insanity. I thought it's only natural for kids to live at home with their parents WITHOUT paying rent, until they want to move out. I really don't think at times, at crucial times actually. Forgive me.

Bless you if you're subjected to such fuckery.

TEDxSoweto - Tefo Mokgoro

What is TEDx?

In the spirit of ideas worth spreading, TED has created a program called TEDx. TEDx is a program of local, self-organized events that bring people together to share a TED-like experience. Our event is called TEDxSoweto, where x = independently organized TED event. At our TEDxSoweto event, TEDTalks video and live speakers will combine to spark deep discussion and connection in a small group. The TED Conference provides general guidance for the TEDx program, but individual TEDx events, including ours, are self-organized.

TEDxSoweto 2011, The Future is Inevitable.

The future will shock and surprise in equal measure. Take connectivity. The line between “me” and “we” will continue to blur as ubiquitous links become the dominant feature of life. What form will society evolve into – a network of diversity or a global ubuntu? Augmented reality and artificial intelligence beckon; will we harness technology to transcend our human abilities or will machines become more like us? Traditional institutions break down everyday and new and virtual ones emerge everywhere. Who gets to make the new rules? Where do we draw the new boundaries? Even the amorphous markets are changing shape and form. What new paradigms will govern as we gravitate east? Can we grow our economies without destroying the planet?

TEDxSoweto 2011 will take us on a rollercoaster ride that will bring us face-to-face with our deepest fears and our highest hopes about tomorrow. Teachers, visionaries and thinkers will reveal possibilities about what’s coming. From that, we hope to gain insight into the anticipated twists and turns of this thrilling but sometimes terrifying human adventure.

Welcome to the future.

http://www.tedxsoweto.co.za/

TEDxSoweto

www.tedxsoweto.co.za

The outcome of the modern Mother's prayer

I call this, Wishful Thinking.

I, [name, surname], on this morning of the [date, month], do take an oath here in this solemn place that I will avoid all strong liquors for the space of [insert age] years to come, being a year for every year that I have lived. And this I swear upon the *Book before me; and may I be stricken dumb, blind, and helpless if I break this my oath.

Notes:
* Book: referring to the sacred writings of a particular religion. E.g. Bible, Koran, etc

Daylight Jackals: The Street Howlers

This is merely the pc term for our infamous construction worker.

Where do i even begin?!

I want to know, is there a clause in their contracts which states the following: 'it is part of your job description to whistle at, call after, scream at, verbally harass, stroke the arm of and/or curse out when rejected, anything resembling a female during working hours, preferably on location.' I have never seen a construction worker's contract, and I sure hope I never do. But 9/10 times I walk by a construction site, I'm subjected to this 'unwarranted clause.' Please South Africa, this phenomenon is as disturbing as the sight of two grown men locking tongues as you walk by the library with your mother! If you know a construction worker, kindly tell him to ignore 'the clause' as in, absolutely disregard it. Explain to him that it ['the clause'] is as relevant as a landslide in Brazil is to an Egyptian right this moment. Street safety is guaranteed after that. Oh, and no more potholes. Jobs will be done, properly.

I thank you.