A Taxi is No Place For A Bibliophile

Being a writer isn't easy. At least that's what I've read. But some say it comes naturally and they cannot believe they get paid to do something that they love so much. Yet still they take the money anyway. I'll let you know my own thoughts when I become a full fledged writer myself.

One thing I do know, however, is that any good writer has to be a bibliophile. Oh, that's just a fancy (and politically correct) term for a book worm. I am it, so I can safely say I'm well on my way to being the guy who sits on his veranda sipping on cold coffee, in my multi-colored gown, flip-flops, messy hair (my locks are nearing that) and jotting on my tablet (21st century stuff) how people's lives are playing out as I watch them pass by, reciting punchlines to myself for my next bestseller.

For now, however, I have to deal with a matter that affects me almost everyday. As a tutor, I commute quite a lot between Esikhawini and Richards Bay/ Empangeni (my autocorrect says Empanadas) and my expertise familiarity with the rolling landscape has eliminated the need to look out the window. Like any self-respecting bibliophile I bring a book along and hope to cover a chapter or two of Walter Isaacson's Einstein: His Life and Universe.

Alas, my fellow commuters do not share my passion for a good autobiography and this is evident in the weary stares I sometimes get (in this day and age nogal). Just the other day I was commuting to tutor a student in Empangeni in the late afternoon. So I found an almost empty Quantum ( a great coincidence if you happen to be reading Einstein) and took a seat as close as possible to the left-hand side of the vehicle having calculated that the sun would be on the other side of the vehicle for the most part of the trip.

As luck would have it, as I was discovering Einstein's extramarital relations with his cousin, the full taxi was finally Empangeni bound. As we sped down the picturesque N2 the hydrogen bomb that is our Sun shed some of it's rays through the sunroof (I noticed its existence then). Needless to say, the brightness of my book compelled me to read it in an awkward angle. At last I succeeded in placing the page in the shadow of the book, alas, the page itself was then out of view.

Still blinded by the book, and with a curious blue hue in my vision, I reluctantly returned my book in my backpack and looked up at the sunroof looming over our heads. And I asked myself the very constructive question;

"Who the f@3¥ puts a sunroof on a bloody taxi?". My question fell unanswered by long train of pondering and was put in the shelf of cold cases such as that of why seatbelts are locked away in taxis and why foreign owned shops are looted.

On the very same day as I entered the taxi that would take me home, I got some weird stares when I scanned the taxi's roof before asking: "J1?". Again I sat in a carefully chosen seat but this would not be my day as the geyser who chose to sit next to me had the whiff of a small brewery, and the people in the seat behind me didn't hesitate to ask me to keep changing  the air conditioning from the window (we call it i-weather in loxion slang).

It is clear to me now that my bibliophiliac tendencies will forever be under house arrest which is problematic in this day and age of mobility and convenience. You can't even read in the library these days, they play East Coast Radio in Richards Bay.

Of Hippos and Kwerekweres

I have never been good at satire. Whether it be reading or writing and I am not going to start now. It took much convincing to be sure that Animal Farm was based on actual historical events. And more convincing still on the fact that these so called events did not in fact involve sentient livestock. And even more convincing not to over compare the story with the current political platform of our beautiful country. All animals are equal, but some are more prominent than others.

Anyway, in my failed attempt at satire I thought I should contrast the plight of hippopotami with foreign tuck-shop owners. There is a place in Zululand where the view of the dawn horizon is bejeweled with a great necklace of rolling hills on the one side and plush plains that adorn its occupants with sheer awe ever single day of their existence.

Okay, I made up that last part. As I was saying, this is a tranquil place still nearly untouched by the scourge of urbanization. I mean, who needs running water anyway? It is situated near a wildlife reserve and the people of this place couldn't be any more in touch with Mother Nature. Fences are overrated anyways.

They couldn't be happier fetching water like the people of old. Nothing says you're alive more than the excruciating pain of a full 25 litre bucket over your head with the liquid rocking your neck in obtuse angles. Ah, yes, and the place they get to fetch the water makes one truly glad to be alive. The river/stream thing they get the water from (and do their laundry) is also home to the occasional man-eating crocodile and sometimes if one is lucky, you can spot a hippo some distance away.

Of course these waters are said to be "hippo infested". Maybe I shouldn't have put that in quotation marks as that would imply some sort of irony or a subliminal message that might imply that these humans are the invaders of these waters and I do not intend doing that. Dang it! Oh well, anyway, in their attempts at getting along with these majestic herbivores, the humans have decided to stay away from them.

Well, the few testosterone-intoxicated youths who have tested the standing-between-a-hippo-and-its-river theory didn't quite get the memo. God bless their inquisitive souls. This has undoubtedly dealt a great injury on the hippos' popularity polls in this community as of course these deaths are due to the hippos' vindictive and homicidal nature. Fowl creatures!

Now, if one of these mammals were to find themselves grazing a little too close to a paranoid homo sapiens, as is occasional, it would take some bad-mouthing from this individual to these other humans.

"They don't belong here. This is our land. You give them a little room to graze on and they'll kill you in your sleep."

"One of them looked me the wrong way just the other day. These things deserve to die!"

Peculiar creatures these ape men are. Now, these peoples gather around to hunt down and slaughter this animal on account of it being a (potential) danger the community.

As it turns out they find and loot, I mean, eat this animal in great merriment. Funny how so many people get their day off all at the same time. If I didn't know better I'd say they are lazy and unemployed people who are jealous of these creatures living their lives working hard to live for another day and these lazy asses find pleasure in free food, the meat which of course is at the expense of this innocent animal. But I know better.

And the people of this beautiful place live happily ever after...or until another hippopotamus makes a wrong turn. Anyway, I just went commando on this one (in more ways than one), so any references with the plight of certain peoples is purely coincidental. I just hope I'm not the next one to be stoned to death on account of a slightly weird accent

Ay cha, Black People!

Just so we're clear and on the same page. I am as black as they come. My parents experienced the struggle at it's nastiest, when blacks turned to each other to fight among themselves in the early 90's. I was too young to understand at the time, but I hear stories of how Esikhawini was a focal point of some of the violence and unrest.

My identity as an African spans more than my complexion, language, DNA or the place I was born, and the land of my forefathers. I am told, by my mother, though admittedly reluctantly, that she, therefore I, have Khoi/San blood in me. It is true that every human being on earth shares their genetic code with these amazing people, though for me, I am told is somewhat closer.

I have a brother/family friend who has Indian ancestry. My other siblings and I sometimes horse around when he exhibits somewhat 'Indian' behavior. What makes him an African? What makes any of us Africans? Where does our identity lie? The truth is, at the time I first drafted this column, I had no idea what the word Africa means or who named this great continent.

All that said, I understand the legacy left by the Apartheid regime, which has since been defeated and removed from power. It cannot be avoided that residual results of this era still remain with us today. But, we are all born to die, yet our ideas seem to have less predictable lifespans. The ideals we choose to leave to our children have unquestionably great consequences to the future of any nation.

Now, what troubles me most is not so much the ideas that live on long after the elders die off, but the nature of the ideas that do survive. It saddens me to watch on the news incidents of the looting of local and foreign owned establishments particularly by my own people, the blacks. This has been such common occurrence that when black people see these things being done by their brethren, they-we comment saying 'abantu abamnyama!' (black people!).

This to me seems like a justification of the behavior exhibited by these unruly individuals, that it is okay just 'cause they're black. What is being an African? We are the ones destroying libraries, burning clinics, throwing sh1t and stopping our children from going to school. That's us. Black people. What does it mean to be an African?

Nelson Mandela had an ideal that tried to act against the division of Africans and sought an African conglomeration by Africans for Africa. He went to prison still having not achieved this. He saw how if we would all organize ourselves, we could become formidable, a force to be reckoned with and be able to stand against our oppressors. We failed to do so for many more years.

Yet here we are today, fighting against our new oppressors; ourselves. But maybe I am looking at it too gloomily, if that is a word. Or maybe I am pussy-footing around a myriad of much more serious issues. The gist of all this, I guess...I actually do not know what the purpose of this column is, but I think we should look at ourselves and try to fix the kinks where it does not look so good.

Don't get me wrong. I am not here to judge or scold. If I have come across as such, I apologize. We are black, so they call us. But who are we really? And are we happy about what we see?

Climate Change Deniers Eat This!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HF9LNuH3IpU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

In my volatile opinion

A recent US study, conducted by a leading university research institute, has revealed a clear link between the mating rituals of blue monkeys and Caucasian elderly couples.

Whoa! What! Okay, let's just stop it right there. What has just happened (hopefully) is that I have used the little authority I have as an aspiring science writer and columnist to imprint an idea in your head which has the potential to evolve into an opinion, part of which, will define you and be your weapon in your next battle of the wits.

As the title of this column suggests, I have a very volatile opinion on just about everything. This is because of all the 'excessive' reading and viewing of National Geographic Channel that I subject my puny brain to. My opinion on any given topic, from The Big Bang Theory to World politics, changes as much as my exposure to new info continues.

Now, I am among the lucky few who let the availability of reliable information shape my opinion. There are some others who have stubborn tendencies that when their opinions are attacked, go into defense-mode and take these challenges personally, as gratuitous attacks on their person. God bless their poor souls. A great example being Young Earth Creationists who maintain the age of the universe is no more than 10 000 years despite the overwhelming evidence contradicting this notion.

Some people want to keep their opinions as they have made them part of their identity and in this way keep them through a misguided attempt at self-preservation. This, in my opinion can be very dangerous in cases where the person harboring this false opinion is in  an authoritative position in that his opinion can get viral and infect a whole community and in the worst cases put people's lives in danger.

Whilst that last statement may seem a bit dramatic, it begs that I paraphrase an example I made in a previous column. Remember the doctor who falsely stated a link between the MMR vaccine and autism in children? Well, as stated before, his legacy lingers on even today, as many parents in the UK and the States are reluctant to take their kids to be immunized. Many only find the flaw in their ways when their kids succumb to the preventable diseases the vaccine is meant to guard against.

As many false opinions are generated, this one originated from a qualified medical practitioner who wrote a scientific paper on his findings. And what's a layman to do when an expert says stuff like this? Advertisers use the same principles to market some products during those daytime infomercials.

Another notable example is the inclusion of climate change deniers in the US government. This may not seem like much but the policies that come from that country influence the rest of the world in terms of climate change. As it has already been shown, climate change is real and those who are in line to suffer most from it are those who contribute to it the least.

Our opinions on the world we live in influence the way we do things. Whether it might be deciding on the quickest route home or casting that all important vote, it is not hard to imagine how all these things can have lasting implications on the way we live. It is advisable that one takes all informational stimulus with a pinch of salt

If one should take away anything from this column, it is that you should not believe a word of it. That said, I hope you don't pin anything on me when you lose an argument over something I've said when you find out it isn't the truth. Oh, and by the way, that first statement is a pile of hogwash. I used it to make my point.

Post column: do not believe everything you read or see, except this statement.

Trouble Sleeping?

Two of my close friends are suffering from insomnia and since

learrning of their predicaments, I've been doing a little reading on

the subject in an attempt to help them as promised.

Now, its very easy to find remedies for such 'ailments' on the world

wide web by simply connecting to Google. I could've just left them to

that, but then where's the fun in that? Anyway, there's a lot of folk

remedies whose unnamed authors swear by. So, this makes it rather

difficult to decide on ones that work. I decided to mention a few

favorites I found and those that are practical.

Some that stood out for me include "sleeping with your head facing

North" which tells me that your sleep pattern is somehow affected by

the magnetic field of the Earth (even though the remedy fails to

mention whether it's true or magnetic North), and this may require a

change in deco as soon as you figure out which way is North.

Another one which I liked says that you"mustn't use your bed for

anything other than sleep or sex". But the question remains, what can

MV and N (that's what I'll call my two friends) do regarding their

sittuations?

Well, it helps to know what kind of insomnia one has before attempting

to 'cure' it. There's acute (primary) and chronic (secondary)

insomnia. The former lasts less than three nights and the latter can

lasts for many more nights and can drag on for a couple of months.

Now, the acute kind is very easily manageable as it has causes such as

stress and tension caused by the loss of a loved one, losing a job,

anxiety for exam results (MV?) and various other related causes.

Anyway, the more serious kind, the chronic insomnia could be caused by

underlying mental and physical ailments such as (clinical) depression

and other illnesses. I suggest you consult a doc if you suspect you

have this kind.

Some medications can also interrupt one's sleeping pattern, of note is

treatment for high-blood pressure, and for asthma.

N said "I drug myself to sleep" and that this has been going on for

months now. Unless these drugs are issued by a qualified practitioner

having diagnosed you of chronic insomnia, and having given you these

for temporary use, then I must tell you that over-the-counter sleeping

drugs can be dangerous overtime and they eventually lose their

effectiveness.

Problems, problems, but this still keeps you up at night and you need

solutions. You could try a few simple acts that are said to improve

your sleep 'hygiene'. The great thing about them is that they make

perfect sense and they're easy to do!

They include: exercising three or four hours before your scheduled

bed-time, a little reading to tire yourself up in case you wake up in

the middle of the night, keeping the same bed-time and wake-up time,

drinking warm milk before bed (yup, it works!), having your supper an

hour before sleep (a light snack in bed also helps), listening to

relaxing music (not depressing) and for all those worriers out there

(ladies) try writing a to-do list as that may help tame the worry-wort

in you.

I really hope this helps, and if you should find that it doesn't, I

again emphasize consulting a specialist as that might reveal something

deeper...my biggest worry being clinical depression.

If push comes to shove, counting sheep still remains an option. Goodnight.

God and Science, the real story (FIXED EDITION)

Up to now, I have been trying very hard to avoid mixing my writing on
science with issues of God and religion. Nevertheless I get inundated
with false opinions regarding science and how it is at loggerheads
with the existence of God that this has got me thinking. Where do all
these ideas, these notions that believers in science are disbelievers
in god? I am of the opinion that these judgments are baseless and very
dangerously contagious in that they antagonize, in a sense, the
scientist as an automatic atheist. I must also say that atheism is not
a bad thing.

First of all, I am a scientist in training and a firm believer in the
existence of God. This does not, however, deprive me of an inquisitive
mind or the urge to question everything and everybody. In my naïve
years, I used to be amazed by scientists, especially astronomers, who
openly believed in a god. I remember asking myself how this could be.
I mean, does not the scientific evidence contradict any notion of the
supernatural, or the existence of a higher being, and so bury God with
all the other fairytales?

I have learnt, personally, that there is so muchmore to it than that.
Personally, I started liking science when I saw how beautiful the
world, nature, the biosphere, planet earth and the rest of the
universe was. I was helplessly drawn into it by a childish curiosity
(my biggest asset) and my search was rewarded by absolute bewilderment
as I held a book on Time and Space. The truth is, most of us start off
with mere interest and curiosity, and then comes the questions from
the "wise ones". A cousin of mine has asked me on many occasions since
she learned of my interest in astrophysics whether I am looking at the
stars to find God. She proceeds to jokingly show her disapproval on
this prospect citing it as a crime of faith and that I should have
faith in the big guy's existence.

My next-door neighbor has also asked me a similar question, but in her
case I always feel a genuine sense to know more. This was proven to me
when she invited me to her house to view something on the television
that she thought might interest me. Now, she is a retired nurse and I
could not help but wonder what she thought might interest me. When I
arrived, I saw a morning news show displaying images of the first
stage of the Square Kilometer Array –a joint scientific project
between South Africa and Australia- and some scientists, who were
heading up the project, discussing its significance in putting South
Africa on the global scientific platform. I ended up spending the
better half of an hour watching with her and explaining how important
the project is and expressing my gratitude for her having brought my
attention to the broadcast.

Now, I have always tried to separate God and Science, but it has come
to my realization that the two are actually inseparable. First to
answer the question of whether I am looking for God when I am looking
at the stars and whether I have come to any breakthrough in my
fruitless venture. Yes I have, I see God on every cloudless night when
I unstiff my neck to look up and appreciate the beauty of the stars
and the many other objects in the sky. I see God in the blogs that I
read that show me how stars are born in the wake of huge star deaths,
how vast the cosmos is, the incredible history of the Earth and I see
God even its prospective demise. Now, my kind of God may not be your
kind of God, and as I said, this is my opinion and seeing God in the
beauty of nature is what makes me happy.

Finally, although mathematics is not my most favorite of subjects (far
from it) I do appreciate its indispensible importance and in it,
again, I see God in the perfection of prime numbers and the mysterious
intrigue in the Fibonacci Sequence. I must admit that any notion of
God the reader has is unlikely to be affected by my one column, I do
however hope that it will prompt one to employ an open mind and to
question everything and everybody except your mother…never ever
question your mom.