As caught by Akismet this morning:
2011/01/01 at 3:05 am
Anton
xigvnjtnv@live.com
IP 207.219.39.35Possibly the best blog post I have read this year?!?
It seems that Anton hasn’t been reading a hell of a lot in the first 185 minutes of 2011. Or maybe he just has impeccably low standards.
Either way, I think I need more readers like him.
After this (from The Guru), came this (from The Guru):
Except, apparently The Guru can’t read all that good – it actually starts at 2AM CAT on the 28th.
Which now means that I’m not allowed to post tomorrow (this currently being today, the day before tomorrow), but I can now post today and schedule it for 1am CAT tomorrow (tomorrow (the day when the servers are migrating) being the day after today, (when the servers aren’t migrating anymore)).
Got that?
Right. Yes. Me too. *cough*
Better play it safe with a quota slideshow – the upgraded version of a quota photo – detailing some few highlights of our Summer holidays thus far:
With another couple of weeks of staggered leave for myself and Mrs 6000 (read: lack of childcare), there’s sure to be more, so do pop back soon.
And whatever you do, don’t leave a comment because you’ll break teh interwebs. Unless of course you’re one of those daring sorts who laughs in the face of danger, pokes hazard in the tummy and spanks the bottom of risk. In which case, comment away.
Have a wonderful Tuesday. I’ll be back when I have been successfully migrated.
I get called a lot of names because of this blog. Some are nice, but probably most are not. The less pleasant ones dribble limply into the metaphorical pond, like water off a duck’s back. But there’s one which is fairly regularly used each and every time I make any criticism of South Africa (that being both my home and the country where I pay my taxes) or anything or anyone South African.
That insult is “Soutpiel” – usually abbreviated to “Soutie”.
And it reared its ugly head again after the Zuma v Zapiro post yesterday.
The term is almost exclusively used in a derogatory manner, but when I actually looked up (or asked someone, can’t remember) what it meant several years ago, I almost burst out laughing.
A quick look at the wonderfully-titled Wikipedia page “Alternative names for the British”, tells us:
Another common term in South Africa used mostly by the Afrikaans is Soutie or Sout Piel. This is from the concept that the Brits have one leg in Britain and one leg in South Africa, leaving the penis hanging in the salt water. Sout Piel means Salt Penis (or rather “dick”). However, this term refers more specifically to British people who have settled in South Africa, as they are more likely to be imagined as having one foot in each country than a Briton who is simply visiting as a tourist.
Is that really the best that you can do?
Let’s look at the logistics of this. The distance from South Africa to the UK is about 6000 miles. Don’t ask me how I know that off the top of my head. It’s just a unique talent I have around memorising numbers.
Thus, in calling me a Soutie, you are inferring that when I stand, my feet are about 9656km apart. A ludicrous suggestion, I know, but this is your mind at work here, not mine.
And then, let’s suppose that in standing firm, one foot in Cape Town – possibly Greenmarket Square, I don’t know – and the other in Sheffield at the top of Fargate (next to the Yorkshire Bank), my legs are each at a sturdy, safe angle of 60° to the ground. In your mind, you now have a massive, massive equilateral triangle.
My legs are each stretching 9656km into the sky.
To put that in perspective, the International Space Station is orbiting around my ankles.
Your mind, remember?
The next bit might not be so nice to imagine – depending on how you like to butter your bread – it’s my “piel” and it is – for geometric purposes you understand – descending directly from the apex of the huge triangle created by my legs and the surface of the earth, which I have conveniently assumed is flat. The eagle-eyed mathematicians among you (those that haven’t fainted at the sheer scale and might of what stands before you) have just realised that we now have a right-angled triangle and we can bring our friend Mr Pythagoras into play, theorem in hand.
I hope that you can all remember that Mr P told us that:
(Piel² + 4828²) = 9656²
Which I will helpfully rearrange and solve for you using just a simple pen, an ordinary sheet of A4 paper and a Casio fx-85WA calculator.
To sum up, what you are telling me when you call me a “Soutie”, what you are saying is that
my member is 8363.341km long.
But, you know what they say: “size isn’t important”. That’s what they tell you, isn’t it? Hmm?
Hmm?
But that’s not all.
While we’ve had a long, hard (careful now) examination of the “piel” portion of the word, there’s still this issue over where my prodigious organ is dangling and getting salty.
There is no ocean between Cape Town and Sheffield. Your only briny options are the horizontal slivers of the Mediterrenean and the English Channel. And my mighty manhood isn’t landing anywhere near either of them.
In fact, consulting any accurate map or globe will show you that it actually comes to rest somewhere close to the city of Tahoua in sandy, landlocked Niger, where it would probably nestle happily amongst the population of just under 100000 and be used as some religious monument or record-breaking sundial.
The closest you come to any saltiness is the fact that gypsum and phosphates are mined in the area.
It sounds like Brakpan. Not great.
So next time you want to come up with a first class insult to put me firmly in my place, I would steer clear of “Soutie”, if I were you.
It really doesn’t work.
I’ve been here and there around the internet this last few days, so I thought I’d share what I’d found with you, hunter-gatherer style.
Firstly – one of my favourite bloggers. Yes, it’s Brian Micklethwait and his ongoing battle with technology – or just recording devices in this case:
Maybe I can get Cobden Centre supremo Andy Duncan to tell me how to use my recording gadgets without getting totally confused. At present the only one I am any good at using is the hateful Sony confusaphone, hateful because it obliges you to go half way around the techno-world turning Sony files into a human (.mp3) files. I bought another machine which doesn’t have this problem, but it has another problem. It’s totally effing incomprehensible.
My new Sony Confusaphone (also known as the glorious new Xperia X10i) is also mentally taxing, but in a good way. Android certainly seems like a lot of fun, although I haven’t found much hugely useful to do with it yet.
Then onto Gina Loubser’s opinion on the whole @pigspotter issue which has divided a little tiny piece of South Africa not really down the middle. I’m with Gina on this one – namely that his tweeting the location of roadblocks and mobile speed traps is just wrong.
He may be a hero in the minds of many and he may have thousands of people following him, but he is still a prime example of someone acting on impulse in a public forum without any concept of the consequences of his actions on his own life and the lives of others.
It’s interesting to note that internet polls have come down firmly (like 90:10 firmly) on the side of @pigspotter.
I don’t understand why he warrants this sort of near fanatical support. Is it something to do with getting one over on authority? Does this make people feel good?
Cliff gives his reasons for his actions thus:
to stop corrupt police soliciting bribes from citizens, and victimising the public.
Yes, there are some corrupt cops in Jo’burg and that’s not good, but how does Cliff’s real-time revalations of their whereabouts assist to weed them out? Am I missing something here?
It’s bizarre and rather unpleasant watching as the brainwashed masses instantly and mindlessly lay into anyone who voices a dissenting opinion to the majority.
The thoroughly repulsive Clive Simpkins is one of the masses.
After I replied to a comment he left on Gina’s post, he refused to discuss the matter further:
Dear 6000, if you don’t have the cahunas to put your name to what you write, you’re classed as an Internet troll. I don’t waste time on them.
This while he is wasting his time on supporting a bloke who is called… er… “@pigspotter”.
There is a school of thought that says that Clive was just caught out by actually being asked to explain his actions and couldn’t, but it’s obviously far more likely that I am “an Internet troll” than that he is a hypocritical tosser.
Over to my mate Albert:
Great spirits have always faced violent opposition from mediocre minds.
Right. Thanks for that.
Finally, something a bit lighter. I think, anyway. Peace Island.
We’ve all heard of Robben Island and Dassen Island and Seal Island and Marion Island and Easter Island and the Galapagos Islands and the Falkland Islands.
But Peace Island? Paarden?
Well, this is apparently Cape Town’s answer to the Palm and World Artificial islands built in Dubai.
Yes, really.
The developers envision and economically and ecologically sustainable development in which upscale housing, trade and tourism opportunities fund and enable low cost housing and contribute to the developmental objectives of the South African Government.
How?
Well, “for every 1,000m² plot sold at R10 million, R1 million will go towards social housing”.
With the initial 25% of the land being sold for R2 billion, that would mean 40,000 units at R50,000 each. With an average of 5 people per unit, that’s housing for 200,000 people.
“The Government would decide where to built the houses.”
As long as it’s not on your island, presumably.
Apparently, the project would require 165 million m³ of sand and 4.2 million tonnes of rock. To put that in perspective – my kids’ sandpit is nowhere near that big and has no rocks in it at all.
Is it for real? I don’t know.
Will it ever take off? I don’t know.
But if it really is a pie-in-the-sky late April fool, someone has gone to a lot of work to put it together, albeit that the spelling and website are a little shabby.
No names though, so Clive probably wouldn’t give it the time of day.
UPDATE: Incoming!
That creepy bald dude is using his superior “communication skills” to trash talk you on his stream. Please tell him it’s spelt CAJONES.
Gasp – so he is!
This would be HUGELY amusing if I was indeed furious or if vasectomy involved anything to do with the testes, which it doesn’t (that would be a orchiectomy). So it’s actually not that amusing.
Oh – and the spelling thing is addressed here:
For some people, apparently, a Hawaiian word for “priest” has ended up as an English euphemism for “testicles”.
Not great use of language from Mr Communication. Yet another reason not to hire him.
Incoming from regular commenter, Reflex:
You have probably heard this already, but saw it online and thought about you.
Duran Duran have rushed out to record a new song for the World Cup.
The lyrics go: “His name is Rio and he is watching from the stands”.
Quick question, how are you getting to the matches you have booked for?
Firstly, it’s quite funny and I hadn’t heard it, although I have since been sent it 189 times.
Secondly, it scares me that people who have never met me still think of me when they see an unbelievably corny joke.
And thirdly, that’s a damn good question.
When large number people attend a sporting event, there is bound to be some sort of congestion. Those die-hard eggchasers who attended the Rugby Festival back in February and then whined about the traffic obviously have rather selective amnesia when it comes to these things. The last game I went to at Newlands was characterised by some of the worst traffic I have ever seen in the surrounding areas. Matches at Newlands, Bramall Lane, Wembley, Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium, St James’ Park – wherever – all attract lots of people and you can expect somewhat chaotic scenes before and after the games.
An extra bit of spice to be considered when looking at Cape Town Stadium is that on one side is the South Atlantic and on the other is a fairly large mountain. Both of which effectively rule out any approach from those directions.
This leaves two possible angles: drive around the Atlantic Seaboard route and park in Sea Point or the more-popular approach from the city centre. Both have their advantages and disadvantages. The coastal route will be much less utilised and should therefore be the obvious choice. However, if something goes wrong there – one breakdown, one accident – it’s game over. It’s a very thin, winding road around the coast and there are no second chances. In short, it’s the high risk/high reward route. And I can’t take risks on World Cup games.
The City Centre approach has a much better chance of success, but will be stupidly busy. Getting anywhere within walking distance of the stadium and parking a car will be nigh on impossible. And that’s what the organisers want, because they want you to use public transport. But there are issues there too.
I have no problem with using the Park and Ride to the stadium from the CBD. But that still means that I have to get to the Park and Ride car park in the CBD in the first place. If the roads into the CBD are congested – and they will be – then that’s not going to be easy.
I could take the Park and Ride bus from UCT, but that’s got to also get to the CBD along those same congested roads. And the vehicle I would perhaps least want to be in when stuck in heavy traffic is a bus. Especially one driven by someone who doesn’t have any personal interest in getting to the stadium before kick off.
And that leaves me with the train, which seems like a sensible choice except for the risk generated by their rather unreliable nature. And remember that I said I can’t take risks with World Cup games.
In short, I’m a bit stuck. I thought I’d formulated a brilliant plan, but then I read about the no fly zone over the stadium during the World Cup and anyway, I was short of one helicopter. Teleportation hasn’t been invented yet and neither has time travel, using which, I could have popped down to the pub in Green Point on Wednesday and then fast-forwarded 48 hours. However, the spin off of the time travel plan was the pub plan, wherein I popped down to the pub in Green Point on Wednesday and then drank for 48 hours.
This pub plan still seems like the most viable option at present.
All of the more sensible options discussed above are summed up in the Cape Town City Getting Around Guide.