SA OK

Just a reminder on this Freedom Day that South Africa is fine and has been so since last weekend’s mass prayer meeting in Bloemfontein.

Malice, hatred, violence, murder and corruption here in SA packed their metaphorical bags and all left the country at midnight on Sunday, and thus we have spent the past few days luxuriating in what has been nothing short of a halcyon bliss; the placid tranquility a wondrous and welcome change from turbulence and barbarity we had encountered on a daily basis right up until Oom Angus intervened.

Sure, we were a bit put out by the violent protests in Lichetenburg and Lenasia on Monday, but at least one of the those was attributed to a mysterious “third force”, and we all know that God has quite enough on His hands sorting out first and second forces, and can’t really be expected to deal with third ones as well.

And then there was the new 5fm lineup reveal, which has caused shock, distress and anguish across the whole nation. But God has forsaken the SABC for many years now anyway. And rightly so.

Oh, and Helen Zille still has a twitter account. You must just have overlooked that though, right guys?

So yes. Thank you, Angus and your myriad disciples with your little misogynistic asides and dodgy, archaic views on homosexuality. Everything’s fine here now, and we’re all looking forward to you sorting out the Middle East, Justin Bieber, North Korea, Donald Trump, climate change and that Helen Zille thing over the coming weeks.

Get to it.

Jet waves

More from Facebook, and from my favourite group thereon, previously mentioned here.

Here’s an image shared to the group by one of its members.

Given the geographical position of the island in question, together with the profile of the aircraft, it’s most likely to be a 777 going from somewhere in Western Europe to somewhere in the USA.

But this is just a post from a guy who has spotted the plane going overhead, pointed his camera heavenward and pressed a button. It doesn’t matter where the plane is going from or heading to. We don’t need to know: the strength of this image is its sheer simplicity

But then, there’s always one, isn’t there? Because in the comments below, this:

I must admit that I hadn’t even considered this aspect of the situation.

The picture was ok. Look, I wasn’t hugely impressed with it, but it was ok. Just nice. And, being me, I had thought a bit about the type of plane and its likely journey. But as I mentioned above, that’s not what matters. And I was inadvertently right.

Because what actually really matters are the jet waves polluting our sky. Yeh?

Air travel isn’t the cleanest form of transport. It’s getting there, with the all new A350-10 series belching a whole 25% less carbon dioxide than its predecessor and such, but putting couple of hundred tonnes of aluminium and suitcases 10kms up into the sky and then moving it several thousand kilometres is always going to be a fuel intensive process. I knew that. But I hadn’t thought about the jet waves, polluting our sky. And I’m sure I wasn’t alone in this. Because no-one ever thinks about the jet waves, do they?

And yet, there they go. Those jet waves. Polluting our sky.

Unenvironmental

I made burgers today. Great big ones.

It was while I was cooking these great big burgers on the braai, Britney Spears blaring away in the foreground, that I glanced down at Twitbook or some such on my phone and noted that there was a vegetarian whining about stuff and telling me, and everyone else, that it took a million gallons of water to produce a kilo of beef and that each cow farted enough greenhouse gas to break a planet or something.

I looked over at the braai grid. These burgers were great big burgers and I was suddenly hugely concerned about the impact I was having on the environment having made them.

But then I tried a bit of one of the great big burgers and it was so nice that I instantly forgave myself.

It was only when we were sitting at the dinner table later that I suddenly thought of my kids.
Because, this isn’t about me and my generation. This is about what sort of world we are passing on to them.

But I checked, and fortunately, they also thought the burgers were delicious, so it was all ok.

 

Important postscript: I did recycle a bottle yesterday, so I am doing my bit. Don’t @ me.

A day

It was a day. Some stuff went well, some stuff didn’t. And that was the case even if stuff got sub-catagorised: for example, bits of the football were good, others not. And now I’m watching Chelsea and Spurs kicking chunks out of each other.

It ended – the day, not the FA Cup semi final – with me wandering around in the dark, barefoot, 200 metres around the corner up the road from our house, chasing an UberEats driver who had already taken 35 minutes to do a 5 minute trip. Guess how nice our food was?

The UberEats experience didn’t have a positive side.

Tomorrow will also be a day. Hopefully with less UberEats and more happy bits.

Bites

I cannot wait for this infernal sumer to be over (although if it could hang around/return for my upcoming weekend away, that would also be nice).

Not only have we still had no significant rain, meaning that we are even deeper (no pun intended) in the throes of our water crisis, but this week’s calm, warm days and calm, warm nights have made Cape Town – specifically the bit of Cape Town that is our bedroom – a veritable paradise for mosquitoes. The whiney little shits.

I’ve mentioned before on here the lengths I go to in order to improved Mrs 6000’s life in this regard, but the last couple of nights have been off the scale as far as my sacrifices go. I am covered – covered – in bites. I itch.

Feel free to give me all your anti-mosquito tips and tricks, but please bear in mind that I have tried them all, and I am still trying them all. Tabard, Peaceful Sleep, Pyrethrums, Citronella, Prayer, A Big Fan, The AR15 Assault Rifle: all of them.

This morning, despite having employed each and every strategy I had at my disposal, and having checked and declared the room fully mosquito-free before retiring last night, I killed 9 of the engorged little bastards. All fed on me. Not a mark on my wonderful wife.

And why should tonight be any different? Meaning that by this time tomorrow I will basically just be one big histamine molecule.

Well, there’s something to look forward to. Ugh.