Sunday walk

Really nothing too strenuous. My Garmin watch wasn’t even sure I had been out and about. But 4.5km along the front of Table Mountain was a lovely way to start the day today.

It still always amazes me that we popped out for a wander along somewhere just up the road that millions of people travel thousands of miles to visit. Quite a few of them were there as well, blindly walking across the road at the Cableway Station, and foolishly tackling India Venster.

The weather was perfect. Not too hot, not too cold (all you need is a light jacket) (IYKYK), with the sun occasionally revealing itself from behind the dramatic orthographic clouds swirling around Devils Peak:

And the odd glimpse down into the City Bowl:

We finished so soon that we were only able to do a morning coffee, rather than a morning beer (the irritating licensing laws having comprehensively failed to force us into church anyway) and we were home before lunchtime and ready to enjoy the rest of our day.

Nap, football and braai being the order of events.

Obviously.

Getaway

There is much wailing and gnashing of teeth over the cover of local travel magazine Getaway this month. That’s because the magazine – well known for its featuring of high quality, local photography – has published its most recent edition with an agency-supplied, AI-generated image on the front cover.

No laws against doing that. No rules were broken, but it does seem a bit of a poor show.

Local ‘tog Jean Tresfon complains that there is no need for them to buy in their images from an agency anyway, given the talent that is available in SA. And he’s absolutely right on that. It’s lazy and it suggests that the publishers are just in it to get the magazine (full of ads) out there, rather than actually caring about the content or audience.

And veteran journo Gus Silber agrees that the use of an AI image is alarming:

There is a genuine concern among media workers that AI is going to take their jobs. If you are using it to replace human photography, then you are making a statement. Getaway needs to explain if their policies allow the use of AI, and when they use it, they must acknowledge it.

Of course, Gus is also right.

But while they are both correct, they’ve also both overlooked the biggest issue in this whole debacle, which comes as a quote from Ryan Vrede, the head of motoring and travel at Habari Media, which owns and publishes Getaway:

OK. But this does raise another question:
How did absolutely no-one look at the front cover of your magazine before it was published?

Because… well…

(click here for bigger)

You don’t have to be Sherlock “Boom Boom” Holmes to spot that this has “an AI element” to it. And that’s an understatement of note. Amazingly, someone did notice, albeit after the magazine had been published and distributed:

Captioned “Natural Wonder” by the magazine, closer inspection by professional photographer Des Jacobs found that although the image may be a “wonder”, there is very little about it that’s natural.

Thank goodness he’s a professional. Because obviously, no-one with simple amateur skills could ever have deduced that this was an AI image.

[deadpan] It’s so very realistic.

I’d already noted the online kerfuffle before I first saw the cover image, so my AI-detecting senses were already piqued, meaning that I can’t really be a fair judge of whether or not I thought that this was an AI-generated image. But looking at it, there were three things that I noted which might have nudged me in the direction of thinking that maybe it was an AI-generated image:

  1. It’s actually very clearly an AI-generated image.
  2. It looks NOTHING like the Blyde River Canyon that it’s meant to depict, and
  3. WTF?!? Are you kidding me, Ryan? How on earth can anyone claim to not see that this outlandish, cartoon wankery is made by a dodgy artificially “intelligent” computer?!?!?

Literally…

Sorry. We f***ed up. We’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.

…is all you needed to say.

But Ryan, with this absolute gem of a line:

You’re either telling us that you’re really stupid, or that you think we’re really stupid.

And each of those options look about as good as the “Blyde River Canyon” on your magazine cover.

Paint all the things

OK. Just time to squeeze a quick post in before the United game.

What a day. An absolute scorcher, and for some reason, in addition to doing all the usual, sensible jobs inside, I decided to get to painting all the bits outside that needed painting. And after that, I painted several of the inside bits that needed painting as well. Skirting boards, living room walls, bedroom walls, outside walls, gateposts, plant pots, plant troughs. If it stayed still for any length of time, it got painted.

The biggest mystery is how the beagle – which is notoriously sedentary – got away without a fresh coat of paint.

Well, that and how I’m still on my feet after 18,000 of your South African steps. If this week continues as it has been going (and how would it continue in any other way?), there’s a real chance that this will beat my 7 day record for steps. And that’s almost 130,000.

Numbers.

If it wasn’t for the match later, I’d be in bed already, but this is the last chance to enjoy evening football at a decent hour, given that the clocks go back in the UK this coming weekend, and therefore every night time game finishes at midnight.

I will still watch those games, obviously. I will just be more broken.

Last night’s quiz

I’m always interested about the varying standards of local pub quizzes. There are two main things at play here: the average difficulty of the questions, and the ability of the competing teams. And there are well known examples of all four of the possible outcomes from these two variables at quizzes in Cape Town.

Last night’s quiz turned out to be the easiest from this point of view: without wanting to sound rude, the standard of the teams playing wasn’t great, and the level of questions was fairly basic. I’m comparing this with other quizzes we sometimes attend where at least one of the two variables is set to “difficult” mode.

Still, it was good fun, good company and nice to win some good prizes.

What last night’s quiz did offer – aside from the winnings and the enjoyment – was the most annoying woman in quiz history.

And I’ve been doing pub quizzes for 30 years.

We all know at least one of those people who always need to be the centre of attention, even when they’re actually already it, but for all the wrong reasons.

This lady was like that, but on steroids cocaine.
Loud, shrill, squeaky – ruining everyone’s evening.

God, she was irritating.

Even her teammates were embarrassed. One of them actually left early rather than continue to sit next to her.

There were numerous warnings from the host, but he tried valiantly to keep it good-natured until, during the second half of the evening, she decided to shout out the answer to a question, at which point he (quite reasonably) snapped, looking her directly in the eye and delivering the long-overdue and much-appreciated line:

Shut the f**k up!

Delicious.

I mean, sadly it had very little effect, but it got a decent cheer from the audience, and it was genuinely a nice thing to hear.

Thankfully, all of the other good things about the evening just about outweighed the mouthy bint. And thus, we will likely be back to defend our title next time around.

Still going to braai

It was nice this morning. A gentle breeze scurrying the little fluffy clouds across the blue sky, the sunshine playing in and out behind the vivid spring greens of the local trees. As I set out on my run, I thought “bugger me, this hill gets more painful every time I do it”, and then I also thought “We should braai this evening”.

And so, once back from the run and deciding that actually, no medical help was required after all, I went and grabbed a selected of meat and salad products ready for dinner.

Light it at 4, eat at 6ish. No huge hurry. No huge stress.
Just a laid back braai in the Cape Town afternoon sunshine.

And then the Cape Town weather stepped in:

Yeah, it’s no Hurricane Milton, but it’s also far from the best braai’ing weather. But the tjoppies are bought. The steak is marinated. And the fire is lit. So we’re going ahead, even if it chucks it down:

I’ll do my braai’ing in the rain.

Positive vibes and red wine. And possibly an umbrella.