Monday, December 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
BHH
This Thursday is another Blogers' Happy Hour.The date is 25th September, the time is 6.30pm and the place is Mateos.
If you are a blogger and you find yourself in Kampala on that date, feel free to drop by. We just might be talking about the NSSF scandal or Big Brother or the new mini-skirt ban in the works. Then again, maybe not.
Do drop by and see for yourself.
P.S This is officially my last post here. I will keep announcing the BHH on both this blog and the Kampalan as well as my new home http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Work.
I am back at work, back at the Gulag.
Also, I can't believe I'm saying this but I've moved. I'm here
http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com/
Also, I can't believe I'm saying this but I've moved. I'm here
http://deeinanutshell.wordpress.com/
Monday, September 01, 2008
Ugandan bloggers gone crazy
You have probably by now already seen the above titled article in the paper and this is my reply to that.
Citizen journalists have taken the world by storm providing an alternative source of information on their blog, but Ugandan bloggers are not standing up to be counted, writes Dennis D. Muhumuza
On the evening of July 31, a short woman in blue compact jeans chased a beefy man around a bar table as she mirthfully pleaded to have her phone back. Patrons raised their eyes from their drinks and watched on mystified, wondering if this “run-and-catch” was part of the entertainment menu.
The players were members of the Ugandan blogging community who had just gathered at the Turkish restaurant, Effendys, with the rest of the inner circle for their monthly meet-ups – what they call the “Happy Hour”.
Before arriving here an hour or thereabouts, a debate had raged between two bloggers and a visiting American: Are all Ugandan bloggers okay with taking their meetings to a bar? (As the organizer, I can safely say that the location for our meeting is always on the table for discussion, you would think he would have asked me about that.) And what’s the whole essence of having a Happy Hour? (Again, he could have asked those of us who turn up. I will go ahead and list them. To put a face to the blogs we read and love so much. To have a forum where we can discuss, face to face, some of the controversial posts that we have read in the previous month. To have fun and meet new people and make new friends. To engage intellectually on different things including the rising food prices. If he attended all the BHHs, he would have known this.) Is it just to celebrate life by drinking expensive coffee and beer, fraternising, raising money for an orphanage or engaging intellectually say on the rising food prices? (What is wrong with celebrating life? His blog tagline is “Friend of God” and from all my time going to church I can say that is what life is about. Rejoice and be glad in the life that God has given you. Again, you might think he would have raised that.)
With Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing in the background, Thomas Smyth literally shouted his order, for that was the only way the waitress was going to hear. That’s about when the two adults pursued themselves around tables. It was the beginning of a shocking evening for the American. (I was there, I can honestly say, we could have moved. Actually we did move and if anyone had suggested it, we could have switched seats again. Aside from that, I managed to have a conversation with Thomas Smyth just fine without having to scream at each other. Also, what were this American’s expectations? He didn’t engage anyone at all, I walked up to him to make conversation and if he was truly the researcher he claims to be, you would think he would have gone out of his way to engage everyone and find out what he had come to find out which I honestly still don’t know.)
Soon, girls were eyeing him surreptitiously and whispering (possibly about his towering height) and taking pictures with their phones. Thomas Smyth gulped his drink and left the Happy Hour prematurely. He had come with a hypothesis: That this community of erudite bloggers was going to transform the Ugandan society but a few minutes with them and he began to doubt. (Girls were eyeing him?)
He didn’t know that a clever Ugandan blogger, S.A.G.E, had in August 2007 summed the Ugandan blogging scenario as “the theatre of the absurd” for which he incurred the wrath of the “blogren.” Blogger Savage had called him “a waste of space on earth and a disgrace to the entire human population” and insulted his parents saying they would have done the “world a huge favour had they decided to have a good night’s sleep instead of engaging in hanky panky the night” S.A.G.E was “conceived.” (clever Ugandan blogger? Dennis, why do you agree with the description “theatre of the absurd”? Is it because much of what you see on blogs does not align with your strict moral code? What happened to the whole “hate the sin not the sinner” I have been living by as a Christian myself?)
Ironically, Savage’s attack of S.A.G.E drew a backlash as equally inane. One blogger Keitetsi said Savage sounded like “a menopausal goose” and that if his comments were “on paper, it would be the kind of stuff people in jail use to wipe their butts.”
As drama ensued, the personalities of many Ugandan bloggers were exposed to a level where the discerning would no longer find it confounding that a woman would for example upload a picture of her g-string on her blog and ask if the readers like it.
A June 30 blog entry boldly titled “Boobs!” by Ugandan blogger Carlo, contained four pictures of women’s cleavage. Her blog soon jammed with comments from men and women begging with desperation to know to whom the ample busts belonged – Carlo’s or her sisters. Only a few wondered if she was crazy to flash such erotica.
“My blog is called Carlo’s for a reason; it’s all about me, so I put up what I want,” she defended herself. “I put them [cleavage] there to attract attention as a light-hearted beginning of a week so we’re not totally focused on serious issues but can laugh sometimes and be ridiculous, you get?”
While it’s true it’s the blogger’s prerogative to fill their blogs with whatever material, those creating blogs are prompted to restrict their sites to invited readers or to put a disclaimer that the blog contains adult content. (Does you blog have a disclaimer that you are a Christian? Something that may offend strong Muslims or Atheists who would rather not read your blog? There is just so much that can be offensive and that is simply human. When you read and decide you are offended, you can always leave. You are not required to keep the page on your screen.)
From S.A.G.E’s understanding, bloggers are supposed to update their lives and voice their opinions on things they strongly feel about to provoke intellectually stimulating debate. (What is with all this intellectual bullshit? What I find intellectual might not be intellectual to you? For example, your failure at being an objective reporter have significantly reduced my view of your intelligence. Does that mean I should stop reading your blog or the Monitor for that matter?)
“But in Uganda, it’s more of who’s more dirty,” he says. “They are not going to be interested if you don’t tickle the bad boy and the bad girl in them; so girls talk about the first time they lost their virginity in the shower room, and boys about how sweet sex in the morgue is and everyone cheers and their egos are massaged. Their superficiality comes to the surface as they smite those that would rather tell them the truth than hype them.” (why is the only person you interview one who you know has the exact same views as you do? What is sad is I don’t have a degree in Mass Com and I would still have done a better job than you on this article.)
Journalist Rodney Muhumuza agrees. “We don’t seem to have a lot of reported blogs in Uganda, which is very disappointing. In America, bloggers investigate and conduct interviews to scoop The New York Times but most Ugandan bloggers that I know care about life at its most basic,” said Muhumuza, who writes The Kampala Review blog. “It’s more often about sex, sex and more sex. It’s hardly the stuff that will inspire a sober mind.” (OMG, do a google search on Ugandan blogs or visit Node Six’s new aggregator)
Could it be that they know they write banality that they hide under pseudonyms? Rather than heroes, you meet unrepentant cynics and provocateurs that spend a bulk of their time venting, fantasising and gibbering about trivialities with unflagging devotion. ( A blog is perhaps the one thing that truly upholds our freedom of speech. Why do you want to quell this? I have as much a right to vent and fantasise and work on my writing as you do to writing badly researched articles that appear in a National newspaper)
Writing about life in the Internet age, David Kaiza dramatically captured this in the June 30-July 6 issue of The EastAfrican by noting, “The culture (of blogging) puffs out like a hot air balloon; directionless and pointless.” (This definition if it applies to Ugandan blogs should also apply to blogs worldwide. Do you know how many blogs about celebrities and day to day happenings exist world wide? Do you even care?)
It is this lack of focus that has left Ugandan journalist and blogger Benon Herbert Oluka disappointed: “I would expect people to use their blogs to give more insight into everyday happenings because I tend to get hooked to thought-provoking articles than someone whose blog is about where they hang out last night and blah, blah, blah.” (When did this become the definition of a blog? WHEN?)
One of the most popular and respected Ugandan bloggers, 27th Comrade, thinks many Ugandan bloggers are “simply not interested in serious discourse; it’s not a bad thing; it’s just different.”
Flipping the other side of the coin, there are also purpose-driven bloggers, however few, that command the respect of the intelligent and educated alike. Tumwijuke of the Ugandan Insomniac blog is for example loved for her ability to “poke the social conscience of people”.
Writing with zing and flair, she has almost single-handedly cracked into the dominance of traditional media by arousing discussion on issues of national and global importance, for which she was in February this year voted Uganda’s best blogger by fellow “blogren”. For some however, the uniqueness of blogs is the greatest thing to happen online.
“Bloggers don’t have to follow conventional rules like the newspapers and that’s what I love most,” says Jared Ombui an avid reader of blogs. “Writing for them is a heart thing and often you find closet stories; the kind you will never see in our newspapers. I love that they are usually short and funny and also the comments from readers are hilarious.”
For blogger Denda, it’s the spirit of comradeship that he loves about blogging. “It’s like neighbours checking on each other,” he said. “I knock on your blog anytime and find out what’s going on in your ‘house’. During the Happy Hour we share ideas and swap books and meet some of the bloggers we love to read –that’s the whole beauty about blogging.”
It’s a positive sign especially in this era where blogs are increasingly being seen as points of reference. Already, there is a heated debate on the Internet that they will soon replace mainstream media which shows the power blogs possess.
Still, if the world’s best comic-strip artist was to invent something that best depicts the Ugandan blogging experience as whole, it would not be the kind patriots would like. It’s only after we have revolutionised the way we think and blog that people like Thomas Smyth will not leave the Happy Hour with inhibitions.
Dennis, I am quite disappointed in your reporting and not because you have touched on a subject close to my heart but because I expected more from you as a qualified journalist. Your article is one-sided, not well researched and what’s worse it really sounds like it. It does not sound professional at all but then again, how many articles in our papers do. It’s no wonder I only read feature articles. The reporters suck, the editors are letting this bad writing run in the papers because there is nothing better to run and the public is also settling or in my case reading news off the internet that is better written and better researched and more in-depth than what is run in our papers.
Probably what is irking me the most is, you won't take this criticism constructively and it will simply fuel another badly researched article on your part.
Citizen journalists have taken the world by storm providing an alternative source of information on their blog, but Ugandan bloggers are not standing up to be counted, writes Dennis D. Muhumuza
On the evening of July 31, a short woman in blue compact jeans chased a beefy man around a bar table as she mirthfully pleaded to have her phone back. Patrons raised their eyes from their drinks and watched on mystified, wondering if this “run-and-catch” was part of the entertainment menu.
The players were members of the Ugandan blogging community who had just gathered at the Turkish restaurant, Effendys, with the rest of the inner circle for their monthly meet-ups – what they call the “Happy Hour”.
Before arriving here an hour or thereabouts, a debate had raged between two bloggers and a visiting American: Are all Ugandan bloggers okay with taking their meetings to a bar? (As the organizer, I can safely say that the location for our meeting is always on the table for discussion, you would think he would have asked me about that.) And what’s the whole essence of having a Happy Hour? (Again, he could have asked those of us who turn up. I will go ahead and list them. To put a face to the blogs we read and love so much. To have a forum where we can discuss, face to face, some of the controversial posts that we have read in the previous month. To have fun and meet new people and make new friends. To engage intellectually on different things including the rising food prices. If he attended all the BHHs, he would have known this.) Is it just to celebrate life by drinking expensive coffee and beer, fraternising, raising money for an orphanage or engaging intellectually say on the rising food prices? (What is wrong with celebrating life? His blog tagline is “Friend of God” and from all my time going to church I can say that is what life is about. Rejoice and be glad in the life that God has given you. Again, you might think he would have raised that.)
With Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing in the background, Thomas Smyth literally shouted his order, for that was the only way the waitress was going to hear. That’s about when the two adults pursued themselves around tables. It was the beginning of a shocking evening for the American. (I was there, I can honestly say, we could have moved. Actually we did move and if anyone had suggested it, we could have switched seats again. Aside from that, I managed to have a conversation with Thomas Smyth just fine without having to scream at each other. Also, what were this American’s expectations? He didn’t engage anyone at all, I walked up to him to make conversation and if he was truly the researcher he claims to be, you would think he would have gone out of his way to engage everyone and find out what he had come to find out which I honestly still don’t know.)
Soon, girls were eyeing him surreptitiously and whispering (possibly about his towering height) and taking pictures with their phones. Thomas Smyth gulped his drink and left the Happy Hour prematurely. He had come with a hypothesis: That this community of erudite bloggers was going to transform the Ugandan society but a few minutes with them and he began to doubt. (Girls were eyeing him?)
He didn’t know that a clever Ugandan blogger, S.A.G.E, had in August 2007 summed the Ugandan blogging scenario as “the theatre of the absurd” for which he incurred the wrath of the “blogren.” Blogger Savage had called him “a waste of space on earth and a disgrace to the entire human population” and insulted his parents saying they would have done the “world a huge favour had they decided to have a good night’s sleep instead of engaging in hanky panky the night” S.A.G.E was “conceived.” (clever Ugandan blogger? Dennis, why do you agree with the description “theatre of the absurd”? Is it because much of what you see on blogs does not align with your strict moral code? What happened to the whole “hate the sin not the sinner” I have been living by as a Christian myself?)
Ironically, Savage’s attack of S.A.G.E drew a backlash as equally inane. One blogger Keitetsi said Savage sounded like “a menopausal goose” and that if his comments were “on paper, it would be the kind of stuff people in jail use to wipe their butts.”
As drama ensued, the personalities of many Ugandan bloggers were exposed to a level where the discerning would no longer find it confounding that a woman would for example upload a picture of her g-string on her blog and ask if the readers like it.
A June 30 blog entry boldly titled “Boobs!” by Ugandan blogger Carlo, contained four pictures of women’s cleavage. Her blog soon jammed with comments from men and women begging with desperation to know to whom the ample busts belonged – Carlo’s or her sisters. Only a few wondered if she was crazy to flash such erotica.
“My blog is called Carlo’s for a reason; it’s all about me, so I put up what I want,” she defended herself. “I put them [cleavage] there to attract attention as a light-hearted beginning of a week so we’re not totally focused on serious issues but can laugh sometimes and be ridiculous, you get?”
While it’s true it’s the blogger’s prerogative to fill their blogs with whatever material, those creating blogs are prompted to restrict their sites to invited readers or to put a disclaimer that the blog contains adult content. (Does you blog have a disclaimer that you are a Christian? Something that may offend strong Muslims or Atheists who would rather not read your blog? There is just so much that can be offensive and that is simply human. When you read and decide you are offended, you can always leave. You are not required to keep the page on your screen.)
From S.A.G.E’s understanding, bloggers are supposed to update their lives and voice their opinions on things they strongly feel about to provoke intellectually stimulating debate. (What is with all this intellectual bullshit? What I find intellectual might not be intellectual to you? For example, your failure at being an objective reporter have significantly reduced my view of your intelligence. Does that mean I should stop reading your blog or the Monitor for that matter?)
“But in Uganda, it’s more of who’s more dirty,” he says. “They are not going to be interested if you don’t tickle the bad boy and the bad girl in them; so girls talk about the first time they lost their virginity in the shower room, and boys about how sweet sex in the morgue is and everyone cheers and their egos are massaged. Their superficiality comes to the surface as they smite those that would rather tell them the truth than hype them.” (why is the only person you interview one who you know has the exact same views as you do? What is sad is I don’t have a degree in Mass Com and I would still have done a better job than you on this article.)
Journalist Rodney Muhumuza agrees. “We don’t seem to have a lot of reported blogs in Uganda, which is very disappointing. In America, bloggers investigate and conduct interviews to scoop The New York Times but most Ugandan bloggers that I know care about life at its most basic,” said Muhumuza, who writes The Kampala Review blog. “It’s more often about sex, sex and more sex. It’s hardly the stuff that will inspire a sober mind.” (OMG, do a google search on Ugandan blogs or visit Node Six’s new aggregator)
Could it be that they know they write banality that they hide under pseudonyms? Rather than heroes, you meet unrepentant cynics and provocateurs that spend a bulk of their time venting, fantasising and gibbering about trivialities with unflagging devotion. ( A blog is perhaps the one thing that truly upholds our freedom of speech. Why do you want to quell this? I have as much a right to vent and fantasise and work on my writing as you do to writing badly researched articles that appear in a National newspaper)
Writing about life in the Internet age, David Kaiza dramatically captured this in the June 30-July 6 issue of The EastAfrican by noting, “The culture (of blogging) puffs out like a hot air balloon; directionless and pointless.” (This definition if it applies to Ugandan blogs should also apply to blogs worldwide. Do you know how many blogs about celebrities and day to day happenings exist world wide? Do you even care?)
It is this lack of focus that has left Ugandan journalist and blogger Benon Herbert Oluka disappointed: “I would expect people to use their blogs to give more insight into everyday happenings because I tend to get hooked to thought-provoking articles than someone whose blog is about where they hang out last night and blah, blah, blah.” (When did this become the definition of a blog? WHEN?)
One of the most popular and respected Ugandan bloggers, 27th Comrade, thinks many Ugandan bloggers are “simply not interested in serious discourse; it’s not a bad thing; it’s just different.”
Flipping the other side of the coin, there are also purpose-driven bloggers, however few, that command the respect of the intelligent and educated alike. Tumwijuke of the Ugandan Insomniac blog is for example loved for her ability to “poke the social conscience of people”.
Writing with zing and flair, she has almost single-handedly cracked into the dominance of traditional media by arousing discussion on issues of national and global importance, for which she was in February this year voted Uganda’s best blogger by fellow “blogren”. For some however, the uniqueness of blogs is the greatest thing to happen online.
“Bloggers don’t have to follow conventional rules like the newspapers and that’s what I love most,” says Jared Ombui an avid reader of blogs. “Writing for them is a heart thing and often you find closet stories; the kind you will never see in our newspapers. I love that they are usually short and funny and also the comments from readers are hilarious.”
For blogger Denda, it’s the spirit of comradeship that he loves about blogging. “It’s like neighbours checking on each other,” he said. “I knock on your blog anytime and find out what’s going on in your ‘house’. During the Happy Hour we share ideas and swap books and meet some of the bloggers we love to read –that’s the whole beauty about blogging.”
It’s a positive sign especially in this era where blogs are increasingly being seen as points of reference. Already, there is a heated debate on the Internet that they will soon replace mainstream media which shows the power blogs possess.
Still, if the world’s best comic-strip artist was to invent something that best depicts the Ugandan blogging experience as whole, it would not be the kind patriots would like. It’s only after we have revolutionised the way we think and blog that people like Thomas Smyth will not leave the Happy Hour with inhibitions.
Dennis, I am quite disappointed in your reporting and not because you have touched on a subject close to my heart but because I expected more from you as a qualified journalist. Your article is one-sided, not well researched and what’s worse it really sounds like it. It does not sound professional at all but then again, how many articles in our papers do. It’s no wonder I only read feature articles. The reporters suck, the editors are letting this bad writing run in the papers because there is nothing better to run and the public is also settling or in my case reading news off the internet that is better written and better researched and more in-depth than what is run in our papers.
Probably what is irking me the most is, you won't take this criticism constructively and it will simply fuel another badly researched article on your part.
Friday, August 29, 2008
BHH Review
After putting up the kalango (DeT: announcement) for BHH on the actual day of the event (see how these days it's an event for me) I turn up at 7.00pm and I am the only one for a full half hour. B2B had kindly put up the kalango and I was starting to wonder if anyone read his blog. I was sure they did what with all the comments on that particular post but no one, not even he had showed up by the time Carlo arrived at about 7.45pm. The next guy to show up was Benge Solomon of Node Six and I was so excited to meet him because his aggregator, Blog Spirit, has become my be all and end all for Ugandan blogs. So he and Carlo exchanged cards and I simply received one of his cards. Solomon, I am waiting for my tracker. B2B then finally showed up with Channel in tow and she had a camera so there should be some pics up on her blog soon, I hope. Ivan was the next to show up looking all cleaned up with a new haircut bambi. Ivan, good luck with the interview. Eddslah showed up next with his trusty companion whose name I can never remember (I'm sorry) then Heaven came along looking all refreshed from all her time off and guess who came with? Her lover also called Peter oddly enough and finally BB, Channel's roomie who made an appearance last time also showed up this time. I'm not too sure about the order people came in though and I don't think it really matters. It was nice per the usual. (Why, you may ask yourself, is this one long paragraph? I don't know either)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Banange, nga you are lost on my eyes
My idiot brother had taken the laptop to school so I couldn't post anything yet I have been back from Sesse for 4 days now.
Anyway, in case you haven't already seen it on B2B's blog, BHH is tonight and we are back at Mateos. See you there.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Blog Action Day and going on holiday
I can't even remember the last time I had 2 posts up on the same day. I don't think it has ever happened. I guess we do something new everyday.
I am off to Ssesse tomorrow. (I have no idea how that is spelt, by the way. Is it Ssesse, Sesse, Ssese or Sese islands?) I do know that I won't be able to blog the whole weekend so I'll be seeing you again late on Sunday or Monday.
This post is basically to say I am going to be taking part in Blog Action Day '08 Poverty on October 15. Go on over to the site and register your blog. Your post could make a huge difference.
I am off to Ssesse tomorrow. (I have no idea how that is spelt, by the way. Is it Ssesse, Sesse, Ssese or Sese islands?) I do know that I won't be able to blog the whole weekend so I'll be seeing you again late on Sunday or Monday.
This post is basically to say I am going to be taking part in Blog Action Day '08 Poverty on October 15. Go on over to the site and register your blog. Your post could make a huge difference.
Randomsies
I don't believe I have ever done a randomsies post but being up at 8.30am with nothing to fill your days with kinda begs one of those posts.
First random thought
The chic in the David Guetta videos has got herself one sweet gig. David Guetta is a DJ and you know how they actually have videos for their songs these days and in all his videos, the main character is this chic, who I must say is very pretty. I just found out her name is Kelly Thiebaud. *hums* "what are we supposed to do, no use to deny this simple truth, now that the love is gone"
Second random thought
Chic in David Guetta's videos should be a gig on 'Do you want to become a celebrity' this game I am addicted to on facebook.
Third rt
I hate Madonna. Chic is 50 and fitter than I have ever been. Her time. What's even more annoying is I will sing along to every one of her songs anyway, the witch.
4th rt
There are some odd games in the Olympics. For starters, Water Polo which is basically hand ball in the water.
5th rt
There is an Olympian, one of the women gymnasts. Her name is Anastasia "Nastia" Liukin whose mother was a floor gymnast who competed in the Olympics and father was an athlete who competed in the Olympics and won Gold. Talk about destiny or maybe about creating Hybrids to win the gold.
6th rt
I like the way the icons for different sports at the Olympics look like Chinese symbols.
I am all out of thoughts... for now.
First random thought
The chic in the David Guetta videos has got herself one sweet gig. David Guetta is a DJ and you know how they actually have videos for their songs these days and in all his videos, the main character is this chic, who I must say is very pretty. I just found out her name is Kelly Thiebaud. *hums* "what are we supposed to do, no use to deny this simple truth, now that the love is gone"
Second random thought
Chic in David Guetta's videos should be a gig on 'Do you want to become a celebrity' this game I am addicted to on facebook.
Third rt
I hate Madonna. Chic is 50 and fitter than I have ever been. Her time. What's even more annoying is I will sing along to every one of her songs anyway, the witch.
4th rt
There are some odd games in the Olympics. For starters, Water Polo which is basically hand ball in the water.
5th rt
There is an Olympian, one of the women gymnasts. Her name is Anastasia "Nastia" Liukin whose mother was a floor gymnast who competed in the Olympics and father was an athlete who competed in the Olympics and won Gold. Talk about destiny or maybe about creating Hybrids to win the gold.
6th rt
I like the way the icons for different sports at the Olympics look like Chinese symbols.
I am all out of thoughts... for now.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Leave! Yay!
Hello y'all.
Now that I am on leave you should expect to see a lot more of me here. So, I've only been on leave for three days and counting but it is not as fun as I expected it would be. Being at home has prompted my mother to make me the maid and my mornings have been starting with me cleaning the house, making breakfast, having some breakfast and then making lunch. The whole time I have been sneaking in glimpses of the Olympics which I am enjoying immensely. It is truly something else to see what one can do with enough training and passion. These athletes are giving their all and it is very entertaining to watch and I personally am going to practise my synchronised swimming so I can rep. Ug in 2010 Britain. I'm going away on Friday so I'm psyched about that and also when I come back on Sunday I am going to our very own Skate Park to watch the competition. Come on down if you have a minute, all I know is that it is in Kitintale. I plan to ask for directions when I get there.
In other news, how have you all been?
Now that I am on leave you should expect to see a lot more of me here. So, I've only been on leave for three days and counting but it is not as fun as I expected it would be. Being at home has prompted my mother to make me the maid and my mornings have been starting with me cleaning the house, making breakfast, having some breakfast and then making lunch. The whole time I have been sneaking in glimpses of the Olympics which I am enjoying immensely. It is truly something else to see what one can do with enough training and passion. These athletes are giving their all and it is very entertaining to watch and I personally am going to practise my synchronised swimming so I can rep. Ug in 2010 Britain. I'm going away on Friday so I'm psyched about that and also when I come back on Sunday I am going to our very own Skate Park to watch the competition. Come on down if you have a minute, all I know is that it is in Kitintale. I plan to ask for directions when I get there.
In other news, how have you all been?
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Wanted: The Abridged Script
Hey y'all.
I am in love with the website The Editing Room and it's editor Rod Hilton. The script below is for you.
By: Rod Hilton on Aug 5th, 2008 Movie Rating: 2.5 stars out of 5 stars
FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE
JAMES MCAVOY adds numbers using EXCEL and whines incessantly in voiceover.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
Hi. My name is James McAvoy. I’m a boring loser who has a full-time job, which apparently is beneath me even though everyone else has to do it without being a whiny little bitch.
(pause)
Oh look, here comes my obnoxious, cuckolding best friend. He epitomizes the exact type of macho idiot that enjoys movies like this one, so the fact that he’s portrayed as an asshole is something of an embarrassing irony.
CHRIS PRATT
Hey man! I just drank Red Bull out of your girlfriend’s vagina, it was awesome! So what’s going on with you?
JAMES MCAVOY
Nothing much. I was just searching for my own name in Google and getting no results.
CHRIS PRATT
No results at all? Like not even for any of the other thousands of people with the same name as you? “Johnny McSkidmarks” gives me three hits, and I just made that up.
JAMES MCAVOY
Yeah, I’m like a black hole of failure. I sure hope that it turns out I’m actually the heir to an ancient society that needs me so that I can leave this well-paying, white-collar, air-conditioned office job that most people would kill to have.
For the rest of the movie, FIGHT CLUB happens, but with BULLETS.
INT. CONVENIENCE STORE
JAMES purchases some anti-anxiety medication when suddenly he is approached by ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
James, it just so happens that your father was a member of a secret organization, which we will now make you a part of, just as soon as we have a poorly directed gunfight with Thomas Kretschmann, the guy who killed your dad.
JAMES MCAVOY
I want nothing to do with any of this.
(pause)
I’m ready now, when do I start killing people?
They shoot GUNS and discharge STYLE. Various amounts of BRAIN are splattered all over the camera lens.
JAMES MCAVOY
Holy shit, this movie is gratuitously violent. Did someone just take the screenplay to a porno and replace the words “cock” with “gun” and “semen” with “blood”?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Don’t be an idiot. There’s no way this movie had as much of a screenplay as your average porn.
They narrowly escape THOMAS KRETSCHMANN. ANGELIA JOLIE’S LIPS try to take JAMES to the SECRET SOCIETY HIDEOUT, but all of the studio’s sets are being used by better movies so they settle on an old TEXTILE MILL SET instead.
INT. TEXTILE MILL
JAMES meets MORGAN FREEMAN.
MORGAN FREEMAN
Let’s make this quick, I’ve got 20 minutes before I have to get back to the Dark Knight set.
JAMES MCAVOY
So, you’re a secret society of supervillians based on famous DC Comics rogues and you need me to help you in your nefarious plot to keep the world in a state of chaos and war?
MORGAN FREEMAN
What? No, you’re thinking of the comic book. We just kept the title and two character names from that best-selling piece of shit. We’re assassins that take lives in order to save thousands more.
JAMES MCAVOY
How do you decide who kill?
MORGAN FREEMAN
We have a Loom of Fate. It’s an actual Loom. And it encodes the names of our targets in binary when it stitches fabric. Seriously. This is actually in the movie.
JAMES MCAVOY
What the hell do you do when two people have the same name? And is every target in NY, or is that just luck?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Look, I gotta run. The deal is, you have the ability to accelerate your heart rate so that you can rape the laws of physics, curve bullets, jump 400 feet out of windows, flip cars, and even shoot the wings off of flies.
JAMES MCAVOY
Shoot the wings off of flies? Are action movies just running out of ways to outdo each other? Where else is there to go after shooting the wings off of flies? What’s the next preposterous action movie going to have, people shooting bullets into each other’s bullets?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Hey, good idea! You can do that with the heart rate thing too.
JAMES MCAVOY
Christ, at least Neo’s excuse was that he was inside the Matrix.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
We’re now going to train you to be an assassin by treating you like shit and beating the living snot out of you for no clear reason.
She DOES. Once the SECRET SOCIETY finishes beating JAMES within an inch of his life, he realizes they are his TRUE FRIENDS. They go ASSASSINATE random PEOPLE using SPECIAL EFFECTS.
JAMES MCAVOY
Cool! My increased heart rate has let me travel back in time to 1999 when stylized slow motion gunfights could pass for entertainment!
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
The Loom of Fate says it’s time for you to kill Thomas Kretschmann.
JAMES MCAVOY
Alright! Did I get any advice on ideal murder weapons from the Scarf of Doom?
ANGELINA and JAMES travel to find THOMAS on a TRAIN. They BATTLE and eventually JAMES shoots THOMAS.
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Everything they told you was a lie. I’m your father.
JAMES MCAVOY
Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that like a billion scenes ago?
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Because I only got paid for two speaking lines. Urk!
(dies)
JAMES travels back to the TEXTILE MILL to confront MORGAN FREEMAN.
JAMES MCAVOY
Thomas Darth Vadered me. Is he really my father?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Sure, I can make you a suit that lets you turn your head. Wait, what movie is this? Shit, I’m still in this thing? Somebody shoot this motherfucker!
JAMES MCAVOY
How sad is it that the most entertaining part of this movie is hearing wise old grandpa Morgan Freeman say the word ‘fuck’?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Hey, don’t forget about me showing my naked ass gratuitously.
They have a SHOOTOUT but MORGAN doesn’t die, so they have another SHOOTOUT where he DOES.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
…and that’s the story of how I brutally slaughtered a shitload of people, which prevented me from being a pussy like you. What the fuck have you done lately?
AUDIENCE
Um, you mean besides wasting 8 bucks watching Fight Club and The Matrix have a miscarriage together? Nothing, I guess.
END
I am in love with the website The Editing Room and it's editor Rod Hilton. The script below is for you.
By: Rod Hilton on Aug 5th, 2008 Movie Rating: 2.5 stars out of 5 stars
FADE IN:
INT. OFFICE
JAMES MCAVOY adds numbers using EXCEL and whines incessantly in voiceover.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
Hi. My name is James McAvoy. I’m a boring loser who has a full-time job, which apparently is beneath me even though everyone else has to do it without being a whiny little bitch.
(pause)
Oh look, here comes my obnoxious, cuckolding best friend. He epitomizes the exact type of macho idiot that enjoys movies like this one, so the fact that he’s portrayed as an asshole is something of an embarrassing irony.
CHRIS PRATT
Hey man! I just drank Red Bull out of your girlfriend’s vagina, it was awesome! So what’s going on with you?
JAMES MCAVOY
Nothing much. I was just searching for my own name in Google and getting no results.
CHRIS PRATT
No results at all? Like not even for any of the other thousands of people with the same name as you? “Johnny McSkidmarks” gives me three hits, and I just made that up.
JAMES MCAVOY
Yeah, I’m like a black hole of failure. I sure hope that it turns out I’m actually the heir to an ancient society that needs me so that I can leave this well-paying, white-collar, air-conditioned office job that most people would kill to have.
For the rest of the movie, FIGHT CLUB happens, but with BULLETS.
INT. CONVENIENCE STORE
JAMES purchases some anti-anxiety medication when suddenly he is approached by ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
James, it just so happens that your father was a member of a secret organization, which we will now make you a part of, just as soon as we have a poorly directed gunfight with Thomas Kretschmann, the guy who killed your dad.
JAMES MCAVOY
I want nothing to do with any of this.
(pause)
I’m ready now, when do I start killing people?
They shoot GUNS and discharge STYLE. Various amounts of BRAIN are splattered all over the camera lens.
JAMES MCAVOY
Holy shit, this movie is gratuitously violent. Did someone just take the screenplay to a porno and replace the words “cock” with “gun” and “semen” with “blood”?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Don’t be an idiot. There’s no way this movie had as much of a screenplay as your average porn.
They narrowly escape THOMAS KRETSCHMANN. ANGELIA JOLIE’S LIPS try to take JAMES to the SECRET SOCIETY HIDEOUT, but all of the studio’s sets are being used by better movies so they settle on an old TEXTILE MILL SET instead.
INT. TEXTILE MILL
JAMES meets MORGAN FREEMAN.
MORGAN FREEMAN
Let’s make this quick, I’ve got 20 minutes before I have to get back to the Dark Knight set.
JAMES MCAVOY
So, you’re a secret society of supervillians based on famous DC Comics rogues and you need me to help you in your nefarious plot to keep the world in a state of chaos and war?
MORGAN FREEMAN
What? No, you’re thinking of the comic book. We just kept the title and two character names from that best-selling piece of shit. We’re assassins that take lives in order to save thousands more.
JAMES MCAVOY
How do you decide who kill?
MORGAN FREEMAN
We have a Loom of Fate. It’s an actual Loom. And it encodes the names of our targets in binary when it stitches fabric. Seriously. This is actually in the movie.
JAMES MCAVOY
What the hell do you do when two people have the same name? And is every target in NY, or is that just luck?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Look, I gotta run. The deal is, you have the ability to accelerate your heart rate so that you can rape the laws of physics, curve bullets, jump 400 feet out of windows, flip cars, and even shoot the wings off of flies.
JAMES MCAVOY
Shoot the wings off of flies? Are action movies just running out of ways to outdo each other? Where else is there to go after shooting the wings off of flies? What’s the next preposterous action movie going to have, people shooting bullets into each other’s bullets?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Hey, good idea! You can do that with the heart rate thing too.
JAMES MCAVOY
Christ, at least Neo’s excuse was that he was inside the Matrix.
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
We’re now going to train you to be an assassin by treating you like shit and beating the living snot out of you for no clear reason.
She DOES. Once the SECRET SOCIETY finishes beating JAMES within an inch of his life, he realizes they are his TRUE FRIENDS. They go ASSASSINATE random PEOPLE using SPECIAL EFFECTS.
JAMES MCAVOY
Cool! My increased heart rate has let me travel back in time to 1999 when stylized slow motion gunfights could pass for entertainment!
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
The Loom of Fate says it’s time for you to kill Thomas Kretschmann.
JAMES MCAVOY
Alright! Did I get any advice on ideal murder weapons from the Scarf of Doom?
ANGELINA and JAMES travel to find THOMAS on a TRAIN. They BATTLE and eventually JAMES shoots THOMAS.
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Everything they told you was a lie. I’m your father.
JAMES MCAVOY
Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that like a billion scenes ago?
THOMAS KRETSCHMANN
Because I only got paid for two speaking lines. Urk!
(dies)
JAMES travels back to the TEXTILE MILL to confront MORGAN FREEMAN.
JAMES MCAVOY
Thomas Darth Vadered me. Is he really my father?
MORGAN FREEMAN
Sure, I can make you a suit that lets you turn your head. Wait, what movie is this? Shit, I’m still in this thing? Somebody shoot this motherfucker!
JAMES MCAVOY
How sad is it that the most entertaining part of this movie is hearing wise old grandpa Morgan Freeman say the word ‘fuck’?
ANGELINA JOLIE’S LIPS
Hey, don’t forget about me showing my naked ass gratuitously.
They have a SHOOTOUT but MORGAN doesn’t die, so they have another SHOOTOUT where he DOES.
JAMES MCAVOY (V.O.)
…and that’s the story of how I brutally slaughtered a shitload of people, which prevented me from being a pussy like you. What the fuck have you done lately?
AUDIENCE
Um, you mean besides wasting 8 bucks watching Fight Club and The Matrix have a miscarriage together? Nothing, I guess.
END
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Yet another BHH
First a nice picture.
But I am so ashamed to be the one beats the kalango for BHH when I barely pass for a blogger myself but what can I say? I am uninspired but not unhappy which is not the best state for writing. I just finished reading What is the What - Dave Eggers and Purple Hibiscus- Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and am now reading The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency - Alexander Mccall Smith and all these reviews will be up at some point this year.Anyway, BHH this time round is at Efendy's on Thursday the 31st of July, 2008 at 6.30pm. I really hope you guys read this and show up.
Friday, June 27, 2008
BHH
Bhh was the bomb. (Do people still say that?) There were so many people, a couple or two of new faces and some old faces which hadn't been in a while.
I wasn't the first one there this time but I was the first one to sit down. I was quickly joined by Kissyfur (so sorry about not carrying your book, btw) and then Princess and Jazz figured we were there for BHH and joined us. Kissyfur asked the waiter if he was there for BHH too, probably because she was expecting more new people to turn up. Phantom was there for a hot minute (one must live up to his name) and had to leave early because he lives very far away...in Entebbe! Rev walked in looking a little out of it, what with his hair heading every which way. B2B walked in and then everyone kind of flooded in.
Blogroll..........
Kissyfur
Phantom
Rev
B2B
Antipop
Heaven
Princess
Jazz
Eddsla
Dante
Carlo
Duksey
Chanel
Ink
So much was talked about, where to begin (that isn't a question.) We did briefly discuss the issue of moving the venue and the only suggestion was Steak Out. What do y'all who weren't there think? Thursday at Steak Out? Also there was talk of a Beach Bash. Do comment and let's decide.
For the pics, facebook me.
I wasn't the first one there this time but I was the first one to sit down. I was quickly joined by Kissyfur (so sorry about not carrying your book, btw) and then Princess and Jazz figured we were there for BHH and joined us. Kissyfur asked the waiter if he was there for BHH too, probably because she was expecting more new people to turn up. Phantom was there for a hot minute (one must live up to his name) and had to leave early because he lives very far away...in Entebbe! Rev walked in looking a little out of it, what with his hair heading every which way. B2B walked in and then everyone kind of flooded in.
Blogroll..........
Kissyfur
Phantom
Rev
B2B
Antipop
Heaven
Princess
Jazz
Eddsla
Dante
Carlo
Duksey
Chanel
Ink
So much was talked about, where to begin (that isn't a question.) We did briefly discuss the issue of moving the venue and the only suggestion was Steak Out. What do y'all who weren't there think? Thursday at Steak Out? Also there was talk of a Beach Bash. Do comment and let's decide.
For the pics, facebook me.
Monday, June 23, 2008
BHH
Bloggers' Happy Hour is on Thursday 26th June, 2008 at Mateos at 6.30pm for lack of suggestions. Do make it.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
While I Was Away
Hey y'all. I know I have been gone a while and I will be gone a while more but in the meantime;
Kale that is a place in Kampala. Hot, crowded, smoggy Kampala has such a serene looking spot. I wouldn't mind walking up that drive way everyday after a hard day's work.
Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me remember the artists name but I think it is Peter or Paul or something with a P from the Bible. I love these, he calls it Tile Art and he shows at Iguana and there is a nice little corner in Woodpecker that is dedicated to his art. You should have a cup of coffee there if you are in Ntinda.
And that is of course my lover who has an aversion to shirts as you can see but whom I love regardless.
Kale that is a place in Kampala. Hot, crowded, smoggy Kampala has such a serene looking spot. I wouldn't mind walking up that drive way everyday after a hard day's work.
Unfortunately, I cannot for the life of me remember the artists name but I think it is Peter or Paul or something with a P from the Bible. I love these, he calls it Tile Art and he shows at Iguana and there is a nice little corner in Woodpecker that is dedicated to his art. You should have a cup of coffee there if you are in Ntinda.
And that is of course my lover who has an aversion to shirts as you can see but whom I love regardless.I know the resolution of the pictures sucks but blame my phone not my unsteady hands.
Friday, May 30, 2008
BHH review
I'm doing a review this time because Carlo said she was bored by her last one and might not do this one. (I am absolutely sure it is a gazillion times better than the one I am about to do)
I'll start at the beginning.
6.30pm found me there already, as always, with my new book in tow and a cup of coffee in front of me. Donald, a friend of mine, was walking by and I roped him in. He said he would be there only a few minutes although he ended up staying the whole time, either that says we were too interesting for him to tear himself away or we were too weird for him to tear himself away. Miss Tandra was next and I was shocked that someone other than Carlo was the second one there. Guess Tandra wants firsties in real life as well. Not to fear though Carlo was hot on her heels and already before 7.00pm we were already filling a table.
The order in which everyone came after that is a bit messed up in my head so I'm simply going to put down the blogroll of the attendees.
B2B
Carlo
Dante
Donald
Heaven
Lucy
Minega
Raymond
Rev
Robin
Tandra
Did I stutter? You read right, Minega was there, all the way from Rwanda! The rest of you who weren't simply have no excuse.
It was so much fun. Robin, Raymond and Minega were the new guys. It was an evening filled with laughter. We talked about Carlo's breeze, Mrs. B2B and how she needs to turn up, women hiring working girls for their annual fix, getting poked with alcohol and the state of Afghanistan as described in The Kite Runner which had me bawling by the way. Dante was disappointed that anitpop didn't turn up but Heaven showing kinda made up for it.
We then headed for rock night, where I was mistaken for a first year and Heaven was mercilessly hit on by some guy, and were there for like a minute at which point we went home and promised we would turn up next month to do it all over again.
And now it is over (the review, I mean) and I must go back to work.
I'll start at the beginning.
6.30pm found me there already, as always, with my new book in tow and a cup of coffee in front of me. Donald, a friend of mine, was walking by and I roped him in. He said he would be there only a few minutes although he ended up staying the whole time, either that says we were too interesting for him to tear himself away or we were too weird for him to tear himself away. Miss Tandra was next and I was shocked that someone other than Carlo was the second one there. Guess Tandra wants firsties in real life as well. Not to fear though Carlo was hot on her heels and already before 7.00pm we were already filling a table.
The order in which everyone came after that is a bit messed up in my head so I'm simply going to put down the blogroll of the attendees.
B2B
Carlo
Dante
Donald
Heaven
Lucy
Minega
Raymond
Rev
Robin
Tandra
Did I stutter? You read right, Minega was there, all the way from Rwanda! The rest of you who weren't simply have no excuse.
It was so much fun. Robin, Raymond and Minega were the new guys. It was an evening filled with laughter. We talked about Carlo's breeze, Mrs. B2B and how she needs to turn up, women hiring working girls for their annual fix, getting poked with alcohol and the state of Afghanistan as described in The Kite Runner which had me bawling by the way. Dante was disappointed that anitpop didn't turn up but Heaven showing kinda made up for it.
We then headed for rock night, where I was mistaken for a first year and Heaven was mercilessly hit on by some guy, and were there for like a minute at which point we went home and promised we would turn up next month to do it all over again.
And now it is over (the review, I mean) and I must go back to work.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
A Tale of Two Cities
“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”
That is how one of the best ever written books ends. If you haven’t read ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ yet, pick it up immediately. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. When I started it, I was afraid that I wouldn’t get it of fail to see what everyone went on about and it was a difficult first few pages but then Dickens describes a scene where wine spills on the cobbled streets of France and from then on I was taken in and there was no turning back.
Dickens has a mastery of the English language that is unequalled. He uses even the simplest words, sentences to take any kind of reader on his journey with him. There is no embellishment, the imagery is vivid because he wields his words like a painter would his brush and actually paints you the picture so beautifully and flawlessly that there is no chance you won’t want to go with him. Open any random page of this book and you will see what I mean.
“If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned the love of the man you see before you – self-flung away, wasted, drunken, poor creature of misuse as you know him to be – he would have been conscious this day and hour in spite of his happiness, that he would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you, disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you can have no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it cannot be.”
Dickens continues to be excellent in the way he connects everything so seamlessly. It might be a tale of two cities but it is basically a tale of one group of people. Everyone you meet in the book is indispensable and somehow connected; there is not one wasted character. Watching the way he weaves the story is breath taking and as you read the excitement mounts as you guess at what might happen, where it might be going and then as you see where it actually goes and how he gets you there, this book is pure genius.
And I haven’t even talked about the plot yet. (I should warn you, there are spoilers ahead.) The book is set in 1775, at the time of the French Revolution. The French people had been oppressed for so long by their monarchy and their church and if there is a story that advocates for the separation of state and church this is it. The people were forced to tend land off of which they could not sustain themselves.
“…in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were said, for the popular revulsion had even traveled that length of self-destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates…”
“Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, which was, to let everything go on its own way; of particular public business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go his way – tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general and particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the world was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: ‘The Earth and the fullness thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur.”
They paid incredibly high rent and were in turn paid nothing for the work they did and the food they grew was taken by the richer nobles who owned the land they lived on.
“Doctor, they are very proud these nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes.”
“We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those superior beings – taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and shutters closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us – I say, we were so robbed, hunted and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should pray for was that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!”
“You know, Doctor, that it is among the rights of these nobles to harness us common dogs to carts and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed – if he could find food – he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.”
The suffering of the people is evident and the revolution is inevitable but the scale of it is unbelievable. The people and been dehumanized to the extent that taking a life of anyone of noble status and anyone connected with any such person was incredibly easy.
“I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?”
“It was nothing to her that an innocent man was to die for the sins of his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her that his wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was insufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and her prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her was made hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been ordered to the axe tomorrow, would she have gone to it with any softer feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent her there.”
But more than all of this, it is a story about love; the love of a father for his daughter and of his daughter for him, the love of a husband and a wife which takes them through births, deaths, two possible executions and dark secrets, the love of a man for a woman who can never love him back and most of all the love of freedom, of liberty, of equality and of fraternity.
I will say again, if you haven’t yet read this book, buy it, borrow my copy but whatever you do, read it.
That is how one of the best ever written books ends. If you haven’t read ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ yet, pick it up immediately. I can’t believe it took me this long to read it. When I started it, I was afraid that I wouldn’t get it of fail to see what everyone went on about and it was a difficult first few pages but then Dickens describes a scene where wine spills on the cobbled streets of France and from then on I was taken in and there was no turning back.
Dickens has a mastery of the English language that is unequalled. He uses even the simplest words, sentences to take any kind of reader on his journey with him. There is no embellishment, the imagery is vivid because he wields his words like a painter would his brush and actually paints you the picture so beautifully and flawlessly that there is no chance you won’t want to go with him. Open any random page of this book and you will see what I mean.
“If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned the love of the man you see before you – self-flung away, wasted, drunken, poor creature of misuse as you know him to be – he would have been conscious this day and hour in spite of his happiness, that he would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you, disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you can have no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it cannot be.”
Dickens continues to be excellent in the way he connects everything so seamlessly. It might be a tale of two cities but it is basically a tale of one group of people. Everyone you meet in the book is indispensable and somehow connected; there is not one wasted character. Watching the way he weaves the story is breath taking and as you read the excitement mounts as you guess at what might happen, where it might be going and then as you see where it actually goes and how he gets you there, this book is pure genius.
And I haven’t even talked about the plot yet. (I should warn you, there are spoilers ahead.) The book is set in 1775, at the time of the French Revolution. The French people had been oppressed for so long by their monarchy and their church and if there is a story that advocates for the separation of state and church this is it. The people were forced to tend land off of which they could not sustain themselves.
“…in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were said, for the popular revulsion had even traveled that length of self-destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates…”
“Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, which was, to let everything go on its own way; of particular public business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go his way – tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general and particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the world was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: ‘The Earth and the fullness thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur.”
They paid incredibly high rent and were in turn paid nothing for the work they did and the food they grew was taken by the richer nobles who owned the land they lived on.
“Doctor, they are very proud these nobles; but we common dogs are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes.”
“We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs are by those superior beings – taxed by him without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we ate it in fear, with the door barred and shutters closed, that his people should not see it and take it from us – I say, we were so robbed, hunted and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should pray for was that our women might be barren and our miserable race die out!”
“You know, Doctor, that it is among the rights of these nobles to harness us common dogs to carts and drive us. They so harnessed him and drove him. Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed – if he could find food – he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and died on her bosom.”
The suffering of the people is evident and the revolution is inevitable but the scale of it is unbelievable. The people and been dehumanized to the extent that taking a life of anyone of noble status and anyone connected with any such person was incredibly easy.
“I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?”
“It was nothing to her that an innocent man was to die for the sins of his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her that his wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was insufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and her prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her was made hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been ordered to the axe tomorrow, would she have gone to it with any softer feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent her there.”
But more than all of this, it is a story about love; the love of a father for his daughter and of his daughter for him, the love of a husband and a wife which takes them through births, deaths, two possible executions and dark secrets, the love of a man for a woman who can never love him back and most of all the love of freedom, of liberty, of equality and of fraternity.
I will say again, if you haven’t yet read this book, buy it, borrow my copy but whatever you do, read it.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Bed of Roses
Bed Of Roses
Sitting here wasted and wounded
At this old piano
Trying hard to capture
The moment this morning I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka
Is still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think that she's still in my bed
As I dream about movies
They won't make of me when I'm dead
With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps
Its own beat in my head
While we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and
What you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
Well I'm so far away
That each step that I take is on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes I'd given each night
Just to see through this payphone
Still I run out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you
I'll just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is true
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
The hotel bar hangover whiskey's gone dry
The barkeeper's wig's crooked
And she's giving me the eye
I might have said yeah
But I laughed so hard I think I died
Now as you close your eyes
Know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely
I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
This was the first rock song I ever heard. I remember it like it was yesterday, it was actually 1993. The video was on TV and I was in the room and this song comes on and I knew immediately that I would forever love this man's voice. I went to the living to watch the video and it kinda helped that Bon Jovi is pretty good looking. Seriously though, it just spoke to me and took me with it. I remember simply standing in front of the Tv 'til it ended and there was no turning back. I have been a rock fan since and I have loved Bon Jovi from that day. My favourite line is "A king ransom's in dime I'd give each night to see through this pay phone"
Do you remember the song that did it for you?
Sitting here wasted and wounded
At this old piano
Trying hard to capture
The moment this morning I don't know
'Cause a bottle of vodka
Is still lodged in my head
And some blond gave me nightmares
I think that she's still in my bed
As I dream about movies
They won't make of me when I'm dead
With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning
While some marching band keeps
Its own beat in my head
While we're talking
About all of the things that I long to believe
About love and the truth and
What you mean to me
And the truth is baby you're all that I need
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
Well I'm so far away
That each step that I take is on my way home
A king's ransom in dimes I'd given each night
Just to see through this payphone
Still I run out of time
Or it's hard to get through
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you
I'll just close my eyes and whisper,
Baby blind love is true
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
The hotel bar hangover whiskey's gone dry
The barkeeper's wig's crooked
And she's giving me the eye
I might have said yeah
But I laughed so hard I think I died
Now as you close your eyes
Know I'll be thinking about you
While my mistress she calls me
To stand in her spotlight again
Tonight I won't be alone
But you know that don't
Mean I'm not lonely
I've got nothing to prove
For it's you that I'd die to defend
I want to lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
I want to be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on a bed of roses
This was the first rock song I ever heard. I remember it like it was yesterday, it was actually 1993. The video was on TV and I was in the room and this song comes on and I knew immediately that I would forever love this man's voice. I went to the living to watch the video and it kinda helped that Bon Jovi is pretty good looking. Seriously though, it just spoke to me and took me with it. I remember simply standing in front of the Tv 'til it ended and there was no turning back. I have been a rock fan since and I have loved Bon Jovi from that day. My favourite line is "A king ransom's in dime I'd give each night to see through this pay phone"
Do you remember the song that did it for you?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Finally getting around to answering the Tag
Four Jobs I Have Worked
- Personal Assistant for a Proffessor in the History Dept. of MUK
- Hostess for an Events Organiser
- Personal Assistant for the Plant Manager of SBI
- Call Centre Agent for UTL
Four Movies I Would Watch Over and Over
- Fight Club
- How to Kill Your Neighbour's Dog
- Interstate 60
- Usual Suspects
Four Places I Have Lived
- Somewhere in Buganda Road till I was 2 years old
- Bukoto from then till I was 22
- A hall on campus (does that count?)
- Semawata Road in Ntinda.
Four TV Shows I love
- 30 Rock
- Friends
- House
- How I Met Your Mother
- Scrubs
- CSI (all of them)
Four Places I Have Been On Vacation
- Ndaija, Rwampara, Mbarara
- Rugoma, Kebisoni, Rukungiri
- Ssese Islands
- Jinja
Four of My Favourite Foods
- Sweet Potatoes and Eshabwe
- Stir Fried Pork and Xiangzhou rice
- Club Sandwich
- Bagel Sandwich with Egg Salad
Four Places I Would Rather Be Now
- In bed
- In a swimming pool
- On the set of 30 Rock
- In South Africa watching my best friend graduate
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