UNDERCULTURE

Good
I would be a really shitty person if I didn’t wish my brother a happy birthday, and I would be an even shittier person if I wished him a happy birthday but didn’t wish it to Marc and Tina, Lennon and Chris. I guess that just makes me a shitty person… Or does it?

I also have the great pleasure of announcing that stand-up comedy is back on the menu in Port Elizabeth after quite an absence. The Evil Twin (Jordan and Joel) are performing every week at Castro’s on Monday nights. Please support them! I would have loved to join and perform again but I’ve got role-playing on Monday nights so fuck ‘em. Right. In. Their little non-role-playing faces! Aha! How’s that for comedy.

There was a revue show of Pink Floyd over the last week which, unfortunately, I failed to attend. People who did attend, though, said it was very nice and it sounded a lot like Pink Floyd so… er… There you go. make it of it what you will.

Bad
Actually, I had no real reason to discuss the Pink Floyd bit other than to introduce the subject of this week’s Bad segment. More and more, friends of mine and I have noticed a dearth of local original talent. It is not to say that there aren’t a lot of talented musicians in the area, it is to say that they’re all seem to be stuck doing covers. And it’s not just musicians, really, the same goes to all the artists who, bar a few, are stuck doing stuff just ’cause it sells.

And that’s the crux of my gripe: it isn’t right that mediocrity should be the bread and butter. It certainly isn’t like that elsewhere. Elsewhere, creativity, originality and taking bold steps are rewarded, applauded and supported. Not in PE, though. In PE, the talented, gifted and fucking downright awesome musicians and artists are stuck doing covers and revue shows because the unwashed masses seem to fear and loathe the unknown and the creative. Choosing, instead, to revel and reward it’s most common denominator.
Now, a lot of people will read that and shrug and say “it’s PE” and move on, but I refuse to accept it. There must be a way of making a change. I just don’t know how. Case and point, I took my work to a local gallery, in the hope of exhibiting some pieces come the end of the year and they told me to “paint more like this” while referring me to a picture in a book. I sure as shit didn’t slave over those canvases to paint like someone else so fuck ‘em.

Their loss if you ask me.

Ugly
Yes. A kid got a Samurai sword, stabbed another kid to death and seriously attacked three other people. It is a tragic event which should be accompanied by quiet reflection, mourning and respect, instead it is accompanied by the noise of retardation so thick as to make you weep.
I know I’m stating the obvious here but it is clear that some people aren’t getting it, so I’ll say it anyway: Stabbing people to death is bad. It is very bad. To decide to do so, other than in self-defense, is a classic sure sign that not all is well in one’s cerebral cortex. The accused, by doing so is, quite obviously, unwell (to put it mildly), no matter what his parents may believe. Nothing makes someone like this, some people are just bat-shit fucking crazy.

Which brings us to the rest of the crowd, from Gareth Cliff to letter-writers and media commentators who seem to be missing the plain truth of it: some people are just bat-shit crazy. That’s all there is to it. This incredibly shocking event isn’t a sign that human beings are devolving, it also doesn’t mean that rock music is bad and will make people killers. Case and point, there is now a Facebook group wanting to ban Slipknot (who are musicians - people who get paid to sing and dance because they are believed to be responsible for this tragedy. I wish I was kidding. Holy fucking shit, Batman! That’s so bloody retarded, it would take an army of Corky’s to come up with it. Some. People. Are. Bat-shit Crazy. That’s all there is to it. Always were and always will be.

I understand that, deep down in our primitive cortex’s, we seek answers to these tragedies but, fuck it, really people. Sigh. Someone get me a vodka…

I’ve just received all 300+ of Simon’s awesome and amazing photographs of Renaud and Karen’s wedding. Quite obviously (because I’m paying for the bandwidth, you free-loading leeches), I’m not going to put them all up here. I am, however, being a generous and loving soul, going to put up a small selection (rumours that my mom forced me to are completely untrue).

One of the central themes to many of my Mage and more modern and esoteric role-playing sessions is the idea of Domanostra. This is a massive, forgotten church fortress floating high above the skyline of Paris. It can only be seen by a chosen few and represents a storehouse of ancient knowledge. In the latest campaign, however, it has been overtaken by a corrupting and evil influence, by a breathing malevolence.

So, this is Domanostra as it is now: forgotten and abandoned, slowly decaying but still magical and powerfully imaginary.

Good
I’ve way too many dinner parties this week. 4 in 5 days to be exact. I’m not feeling all that strong and I’m about ready to crash. Still, it was fun, and I just wanted to thank everyone who came over. I’ll be happy if I don’t see red wine for a good couple of months days.

Oh, and I may have some kick-ass art-related news soon but, for the moment, it’s still all pretty hush-hush. Hold thumbs.

Bad
I know that a lot of people think that I am too vocally anti-religious. I try not to be but, fuck it, some religious people can really do themselves a massive disservice. Firstly, there’s a front-page article in today’s EP Herald (and I can’t provide you a link because the site still has Thursday’s news. Sigh. On the ball again, Herald) about a few Christian’s being upset over a TV show called The Reaper because “the devil is being given free” and “false” advertising. Holy fucking shit! I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.

And, you know, I don’t watch TV so I don’t really give a shit but, for fuck’s sakes, wanting to dictate to the rest of us who certainly aren’t worried about a non-existent evil monster what we can and can’t watch is just bullshit.

And then, just yesterday, on that wonderfully cutting-edge, ahead-of-the-game, wow-I-can’t-believe-they’re-playing-Cher-again radio station, Radio Algoa, the DJ went on about how What if God was one of us was so controversial and risqué. Sweet fuck! That song is 13-years old and it wasn’t particularly contraversial in its day, unless you were completely stupid! You’d think that they’d somehow realize that by now. Sigh. itsonlyradioalgoaitsonlyradioalgoaitsonlyradioalgoaitsonlyradioalgoa….

Ugly
I’m not a strong supporter of car guards. I question their value to really and effectively deter crime. Still, in certain, and more questionable, parts of town, I do give them some money. I do this, not because I truly believe that they’ll actually do something but because it makes me feel safer and, psychologically at least, that helps.

What I certainly don’t do, however, is give money to car guards in areas where I feel completely safe and secure, such as at Walmer Park or at The Zebra. And, sure, I accept that cars may still be vulnerable there but, let’s face it, we’re talking about astronomically long odds. And, regardless of whether or not you agree with me, we can definitely agree that, at the end of the day, it is my money and I can chose to give it to who I want.

You can, therefore, imagine my ire and irritation when, having parked my car for a whole 10 minutes at Walmer Park in the middle of the day, this hideous, sunbaked and pudgy creature admonished me for not tipping her and followed it up with rude gestures as I drove off.

Since when did tipping car guards become compulsory? Fuck ‘em.

I’m a big role-playing, Dungeons and Dragons nerd. Everyone knows this and I’ve never tried to hide it. I especially love dungeon mastering but, unfortunately, that leaves me with very little time to really get into the characters and… well… doodle. This has changed of late, however, because Mike has taken over the story and our merry Monday-night group is enjoying a little D20 jaunt. A all dwarven warrior jaunt. And it’s given me the perfect opportunity to get stuck into a few character sketches. Please forgive me if they look a little amateurish: it’s been a while since I’ve churned out some fantasy illustrations. It’s like being a teenager all over again.