Brideshead Revisited

Every now and again the seemingly machinelike mind of film makers create a master piece, a film so unassuming that it bewitches the audience with spellbinding story-telling and enigmatic characters intricately woven with complex detail that you can’t help but fall in love.  One such film is the feature length adaption of Evelyn Waugh’s “Brideshead Revisited.”. When I saw the trailer for Brideshead Revisited it was less than forgetful, in fact would never have considered watching it until a friend insisted.

Brideshead Revisited is a story that takes place in the space of ten years; we hear the story through Charles Ryder (Matthew Goode) an artist with no particular pedigree whose life changed when he went to Oxford University and met Sebastian Flyte. The story is not about Brideshead, lavish British estate, it’s about what happens to people who been at Brideshead and it means for them individually. I wont give anything away because must see it. However it is important to note that the director's artistic prowess guides you ever so gently through the lives of these amazing people. The cast headed by Matthew Goode is stellar in every way and Emma Thompson and Michael Gambon are the perfect estranged parents to Julia (Hayley Atwell) and Sebastian (Ben Whishaw). From the moment we set foot on Brideshead, just like Charles Ryder fall under it's spell. The romantic laisons between Charles and Sebastian; Charles and Julia is as intoxicating and somewhat toxic as the relationship they have with Brideshead. 

if you haven't seen this movie please rent it, it's stellar to quote Ben Lyons.  

Neighbour Dairies

I have this neighbour who has to worm his way into my existence without my permission. I am an accommodating person, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.

So about six months ago we were graced with yet another new set of neighbour, this particular house has had three sets of people live there in the last 3 years. The first set were good lads, I liked them they behaved well and never got out of hand. The second set were a little more rowdy than the first they partied hard but knew a little something about sensitivity. The third set of neighbours are a little more "interesting". Now according to my sources, only girls live there now, which is a change from the all boys digs that existed there for the last two years. Here's my beef, if only girls live there why is it that all the bother that I have experienced concerning the new neighbours involves a guy? It is odd that what it is... here are some of my neighbourly highlights...

Firstly, this dude likes to parade around in his birthday suit, my bedroom window faces his and I have decided our fence is not high enough!

Secondly, he sings, loudly and badly to inappropriate songs such as "I touch Myself" and 'Like a Virgin" in the middle of the night.

Last but certainly not least, during day, I don't know they do but they do it loudly and violently. So much so I cant barley be in my room I have run off to other parts of the house I am so embarrassed.

A few days ago I thought I hint that you know I am an unwilling audience it his shenanigans by playing Like a Virgin loudly so he could hear. Didn't work in fact that night I was forced to listen to a fair amount virgin and touch related songs. I cant go over there and have it out because I cant look at him I know will succumb to fits of giggles I mean have seen him in his birthday suit!

Will the Real Clinton Sparks please stand up

The strange and somewhat absurd seem to always find me. I know most people say that but for me it’s always been the norm and I am quite used to it now.

If you are a regular here, you would have read the curious case of Clinton Spark. Clinton Sparks is a DJ/music producer/E! Presenter. Truth be told I didn’t even know who he was until about a few weeks ago, an even that led to the above mentioned post and the consequences that followed. I was quite happy to be done with the “obsession”, for the lack of a better word, and move on with my daily existence. I had started following his tweets; he seems like a pretty cool guy. Then I got an email from a Clinton Sparks about my blog post, I thought ok... then another Clinton Sparks emailed me and another and another by the end of the week I had received 15 emails from 15 different people claiming to be real Clinton Sparks. So much so, I know I shouldn’t have done this; I decided start a conversation with one of them who turned out to be “interesting” (not in a good way) and somewhat creepy. The messages I received were odd and some were really stupid and creepy. People have way too much time on their hands is my conclusion. The emails I got/getting have become silly and somewhat predictable and actually insulting me and the person they are pretending to be.

Since the receipt of these messages, I have engaged the real Clinton Sparks on Twitter about his many impersonators. So I hope this will be my last Clinton Sparks related blog post. So to the many Clinton Sparks please do refrain from sending me any more mail thank you.

Creepy Dreaming 2

I am a relatively level headed person; at least I like to think so yes - some people call me crazy and sometimes I don’t think they are far off I can be a little be crazy in the socially acceptable sense. However lately I am starting feel bit disturbed for the lack of a better word. You have all read about my creepy dreaming and strange obsessions. The last couple of weeks have been one hell of dream ride. If someone controls what we dream then he or she must really have it in my psyche. Here are the highlights:

Dream One : Hitler’s Germany
I was in a concentration camp with Christian Bale – never watch Dark Knight after a World War 2 special. I woke up feeling like my skin was on fire.

Dream Two: Stalin’s Russia
I was in an underground bunker with James Franco he was trapped in some crack thing and couldn’t get him out. I woke up feeling like my heart was literally breaking.

Dream Three: Doctor Who nightmare
I was falling into a black hole and there was beast trying to get me and of course David Tennant (Doctor Who) was trying to save me. I woke terrified I felt like some was in the room with me.

Now those are just a few of freaky dreams that I have had lately guest starring famous names, some appearing in three consecutive dreams such as our famous sub-conscious stalker Shia LaBeouf and a favourite eye candy Ryan Seacrest. The dreams get creepier and the waking up more intense so I am making an appointment with a therapist for tomorrow because I am a little concerned. So to be on the safe side tonight I am watching Cartoon Network till I fall asleep.

A touchy situation

Last night my beautiful touch screen phone the joy of my days decided to stop working. What's a touch screen phone if you cant use the touch function? I said to myself switch it off for a couple of hours and it'll be fine. So I went to bed with that positive thought in mind. Even through  the terrible storm last night I was unshaken in my trust that my phone will be fine by morning, it had to be what am I suppose to so without my mobile? Well morning came and guess what? my phone is still not working and it can't be fixed. I am a good person, I care about the environment, I have just started this new super health kick, with organic foods and I am considering going vegetarian. now what did I do to deserve this? I am nice to people and I always reply messages I don't screen calls. I am a friend to mobile technology! I advocate the use of mobile technology, so why am I being punished? I cant even get my contacts out! 

Seriously what the heck am I going to do without my mobile? 

Hostage by Social Networks

While doing research for my paper “CelebTweeting” (Celebrities who Tweet) I came across a fascinating article by Paul McFedries about Tweeting. A fantastic article all round, what caught my eye though, was the term ‘virtual omnipresence’. The truth be told, if look behind the veil of a true Twitterer, you’ll find that not only do they Tweet, they blog, Facebook, use friendfeed and they just might even possess a Second Life avatar. I was discussing Twitter with a friend of mine a few weeks ago and I said to him we are held hostage by these social networking tools and it is true. Twitter is in-between blogging and social networking resulting a social networking and microblogging platform. One hundred and Forty characters... that is all you get, with which to broadcast yourself to the world as often as you like.

Social networks come with their own set of netiquettes and we find ourselves consumed by the need to comply and behave well within these virtualspheres that we don’t even realise we’re doing it. I have been obsessed with new media since I was able understand what it meant, I am the quintessential cyber child, I don’t even remember the last time I wrote anything a pen, I was elated when I purchased a writing pad that I Tweeted about it, which I am yet to use it by the way. Society is held hostage by these tools, we must Tweet because we feel it is an extension of ourselves, we must Facebook because how else will our friends know what we are up to and we must blog because our one and possibly only reader in Bosnia is in desperate need of our sometimes dry humour and wit. These are the basis with which we live our lives, it doesn’t matter that no cares whether we Tweet, Facebook or blog. What matters is that we for some inconceivable reason think that it does. We have a burning desire to adhere to the rules of cyberspace, reply to Facebook message, blog comment and Tweets directed at us or simply mention something we are vaguely interested in, it never stops. Technology is advancing to catch up with our social media/networking demands. We must Tweet, Facebook and blog from our mobiles when we are not at our desktop.

I refused to join Facebook when I was first introduced to it in 2005, after a year of protest I finally caved in 2006, the same year, I joined Twitter and began a proper blog, while trying to maintain my MySpace account. And I am part of many more. Everything I do is online, my thesis is about blogging I am writing a paper on Twitter and my primary means of communication is email and text messaging (which I do mostly from my computer). It’s easy because my life is organised perfectly on my laptop, so much so that if it’s not my Gmail to-so list it won’t get done. I must Tweet, Facebook and blog. I enjoy reading my friends Tweets and I adore the people who follow mine. I am able to get to know them without really entertaining a conversation that lasts longer than a hundred and forty characters.

There might not be a necessary need for all this technology but we NEED them, we’re held hostage by them.

Another Sleepless Night

After a hard day of researching (yes I was), I thought it'll be nice to just chillax and watch a movie or two, as you know, if you follow my tweets that is, I am trying to watch one new movie a week. Not necessarily new on the circuit, just movies I haven't watched before. Last night's movie was Lars and the Real Girl, what a cracker! It was so beyond my expectation, it had such an amazing voice for how various people work through their problems and emotions. I know it's comedy but it has such fantastic dramatic qualities in terms of the story and the way in which it was presented. All I can say is that Lars and the Real Girl is a fantastic story about a socially awkward man who learns social acceptance and finds himself through an anatomically correct sex-doll( yep). Watch it if you haven't.

So after Lars, I couldn't fall asleep so I thought I see what else was on, I ended up watching I know Who Killed Me. Yes, it was indeed a big mistake, I had never truly watched this movie and I know it got bad reviews but I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt. Needless to say I was disappointed, the movie sucked! Sure the killer had great psychotic motivation but the follow through was as crappy as they get. The only thing enigmatic about this movie was the blue rose. That's about 90mins of my life I'll never get back!

The night continues

Have you ever woken up from a dream and felt like you left a piece of yourself in the dream? I felt like that last night, after I know Who Killed Me two equally sucky movies followed ( note to self: email DSTV about their programming). I think I fell asleep in the middle of Getting Played (dont ever watch) only to wake up two hours later with a terrible chest pain. The dream that woke me up was an intense one, vivd as anything. I mean dark alleys, underground bunkers and people being tortured and my heart breaking almost quite literally. When I woke I felt like a piece of me was still in the dream. sound weird? I know. So if you see me today I am sorry if I am a little cranky I haven't had much sleep. 

The Curious Case of Clinton Sparks

Hey there fellow bloggers.

So if you happen to follow my tweets, you all know that I am pretty pre-occupied with a fellow a named Clinton Sparks. No, it’s nothing like that. I got a text a few weeks ago from a friend who asked “what’s the skinny of Clinton Sparks?” My first reaction was Clinton who? I automatically assumed that it must be someone within my geographical reach, such as campus or the city or at the very least a friend of a friend of a friend. So I didn’t Google him immediately, I just posed a question on Twitter hoping one of my friends would bite (none did). A few days later I sat down to watch Enews on E! Entertainment which is after The Daily Ten (a cool show to watch too). I hadn’t been able to watch E! in a very long time; while watching The Daily Ten, low and behold the name I see on the screen, yes my darlings, Clinton Sparks. All of sudden a light bulb lit up in my head! That’s why she texted me, I am the only person she knows interested in entertainment journalism (which by the way I think is going pots but that’s another post), so I Googled the fellow. He seems interesting enough, not quite sure why there is a to-do about it though coz I got another text about him today. He seems to have built up quite a following amongst the people I know. I hope this puts to rest my Clinton Sparks journey because not want to turn into a Shia LaBeouf situation. The alleyways of my dreams are still being stalked by aliens and the defender of the human race (whatever happened to ponies and unicorns?). SO Mr Sparks, if by some barzarro chance that you read this (which I doubt) declare yourself to the world coz I’m taking a break from E! Entertainment. Or at least people learn to Google.

Goodnight fair bloggers glide those velvety skies of pleasant dream and have a glorious tomorrow. My alien foe waits...

My Thesis Abstract --- oooh

Blogging: Investigating the role played by blogs in contemporary South African Journalism and the Public Sphere.

This thesis seeks to investigate the role that blogs play in contemporary South African journalism through examining six blogs in the South African blogosphere and their content choices. This thesis draws on four key theoretical frameworks around which the research questions have been formulated: New Media and Journalism, Journalistic Blogging, Audiences and the Public Sphere. There are three key research questions:

1. What is the role played by blogging in contemporary South African journalism?

2. To what extent has the blogosphere become a Public Sphere?

3. How have blogs influenced/changed/impacted the style and content of South African journalism?

The qualitative data collected through blog observation, interviews with blog owner/ editors and concluded focus groups discussions with blog readers, is designed to help reveal the role blogs and bloggers play in contemporary South African journalism and through discussions with the audience and monitoring conversations online help explore the possibilities of a public sphere.

The conclusion of this thesis is that blogs do play a role in contemporary South African journalism and can serve as an effective public sphere. Defining what it means to be a journalist and recognising the differences between blogger and journalist is an issue that needs to be effectively understood before a conclusive agreement is to be reached in the blogger journalist debate. However, for now the relationship between South African news agents and South African bloggers is promising.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

I have wanted to talk about this film since I saw it but for some reason I haven’t been able to commit my thoughts to a blog post till now.

I had given up on Brad Pitt as an actor that could really capture me emotionally through a story, I was always entertained by his performances they just never resonated with me since Legends of the Fall and Interview with a Vampire. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a mystically beautiful story told through the diary of a dying “young” man about the impossibly wonderful life he led. Benjamin’s story begins when he is born, well into his 80s and with very little time to live or so they thought. As the story progresses we follow Benjamin as he grows up or in his case down, aging in reverse but experiencing life like the child he is. Assortments of characters come in and out of Benjamin’s life each of them leaving him with a valuable contribution to the person he would become. As the man he is to the world, he experiences everything with childlike enthusiasm and honesty allowing him impacting everyone he meets with kindness and generosity.

Filmicly Benjamin Button is beautiful to watching with each shot carefully planned to carry you on an intimate journey with Benjamin’s voice as your guide.

Brad Pitt is gentle and delicate as Benjamin but the supporting cast add a cache that brings the audience to its knees. Cate makes the perfect southern belle and love interest and Tajari(sp) is the perfect lovingly mother that all little boys cannot live without. This magical story of a man with the soul of a young boy who grew down to become a remarkable young man is a must see for anyone who has ever asked the question “what am I doing with my life?” or feared growing old.

One pretty green scarf and a dozen shiny plastics

I went to watch Confession of a Shopaholic today with my darling “shopaholic” friend. I have never read the books so I went in there with no background as to what it was really about aside from what the title gave away. A movie starring Hugh Dancy spotting his charming and positively alluring British accent, of course I went to see it. As I sat there, I kept thinking to myself why on earth will anyone buy stuff they don’t need? And more importantly why buy stuff that you can't afford. It is indeed the case of the shiny plastic. The main character, Rebecca, buys and buys simply because she never really has to exchange any physical cash. So she spends and spends and spends even more. This is a problem in society today, people fall into debt just because they had to have that Fendi bag and those Jimmy Choo shoes. The price tags that those items carry could feed a small country. Now now before the shopaholics starts sharpening their pitchforks; I am a big fan of shopping it is indeed a liberating experience, I buy DVDs, perfumes, magazines and sometime jewellery and shoes like its groceries. The difference, however, is I only buy when I can actually afford them and when I cannot, I look at the person who can with great envy and walk away. I refuse to get some shiny plastic just so I can complete my James Bond collection because it’s on sale.

The movie itself is a brilliant piece of comedic excellence, the casts’ comedic timing is impeccable and the ensemble is well put together with Isla Fisher at the helm with Joan Cusack and John Goodman supporting. Just like the enabler of the Rebecca’s problem (credit cards), the movie is shiny and beautiful and for two hours or so you get to escape into the colourful world of debt inducing luxury. You might just fall in love with a pretty green scarf.

Sweet Academia

The trouble with academia is that it’s not all it is cracked up to be. My undergrad years were some of the most fantastic time of my life, I loved those lazy days and the excitement of learning something new or at least realising you learnt something without really paying attention. Not to mention the drama of honours year and making movies and the thrill of it all; I knew Masters wasn’t going to be a picnic I just didn’t know I was going to spend 18 months (as the first 6 was spent deciding what to write) writing something that would physically drain me in the final days. I am literally weeks away from being a master of my field or whatever the point is (there is no real title here) and it seems that editing my thesis is actually worse than writing it. I have to go through every single page a hundred times and I could have sworn the letters were dancing a little while ago. I thought watching Jason Voohrees chase people with his axe would make for a calm mind when it came to editing but apparently not. I have about 60 or so pages to go before I can say I am done but gosh darn I am quite ready to through in the towel. So who is keen to help me edit, well more like proof read and check for missing references? Any takers? Mr Voohrees? Heck Mrs Voohrees?

The Serial kIller House

It’s important to have neighbours, if you do not have neighbours you live in isolation, which, contrary to popular belief no one wants. The phrase no man is an island isn’t wrong, a man can be an island but no man chooses to.

My street is, in my opinion, very interesting I believe that the collection of people who live there are some of the most fascinating around. Every house has a story to tell and so do the characters that come out of them. However, this is about the Serial Killer house, I love this house it has so much character and stories that surround it are amazing and I am yet to see anyone come out it.

Every day I walk by the Serial Killer house and each day I linger a little, despite its melancholy and disconcerting appearance, I hope for some flicker of life. I don’t doubt that there is life in the house I just wish to see it, I have heard it or at least I think I have. Every inch of the house is covered as though keeping the outside world away maybe that’s its goal. The hedges are well maintained but I have never seen anyone trim them. It looks frightening and resembles the killer’s house in all horror movies, well the intensely creepy ones. I can’t help but wonder who lives there and their story; sometimes I think maybe it’s an old lady with no family and she just keeps to herself and gardens at odd hours of the night. Other times I think maybe it’s a family who think they’ll catch a disease if they leave the confines of their property. Then other times, when I am particularly silly and whimsical I think that perhaps a devilishly handsome man lives there and he is an incredibly shy computer programmer (well you know where that thought goes). Then I come back to my senses and realise that an axe murder must live there how else can the secrecy be explained.

Carpe diem

Every now and again, that little percentage of our brains that we use leads us to some rather silly things. I was feeling very carpe diemish today so I thought I would do some exploring, well it isn't really exploring when you know where going but I thought I just take walk to Peter Booysen park. I haven't done that since C and I really love that park. So off to Peter B I went, and it was great at first I sat by the benches watching and listening until he showed up. Who is he? you might ask some random that sat next to me, ok firstly, I have no beef with people sitting next to me in parks, that's fine it belongs to the public. I, on the other hand, have major problems with people telling me the world is about to end and that I am going to perish in eternal damnation if I don't convert to scientology. I know seriously? like I don't get enough of that stuff, when I turn on E! entertainment and some new celebrity found the uber life path called Tom Cruise sorry I mean scientology. This dude followed me around the bloody park and I had run away from him. Never again.

The Trickery of Time

I had to speak at a Nux workshop today with fellow alumni Qu and members of the media department. Looking at the eager ready to learn faces of the new writers took me back 6 years to my very first visit to the Nux office. It’s curious when I think about to that day, what’s even more curious is the feeling I get when I walk around campus on my meeting days. There is an air of tricky about the time that has passed. I walk by the library and I see pockets of my own memories unfold in someone else’s life and my own memories dances in front of me as though it just happening for the first time. There by Founder’s way, I got the call that told me I was being sued what a day that was. Oh yes the Nux roof, oh what mischief went on and probably still goes on.

There was something special about campus in those days, the slow winding of time that kept the days longer and the conversations lovelier. Friendships that ensued death threats, love affairs that began with a glance and ended 30 seconds after the first word is uttered. What a time.

Anyway I am getting out of the memory lane; it’s getting a bit much.

Bed-Bound

So I am sick in bed with a terrible flu, my only companion has been my many DVDs which when I think about it is not as much as people tend to upon seeing it. I have decided to start reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a trilogy in four parts. My bed side table has a cup of piping hot med lemon, which has become my drink of choice that an tea, I have tons of pills, stuff I need for my toothache, cause I have to finish the course and my iron meds which I must say I need reminding to take sometimes. Qu came round yesterday to bring me some flutex and proceeded to tell me they weren’t drugs and just because they make you float doesn’t mean you should OD on them. Ordinarily when I get the flu I usually opt for more homeopathic remedies, lemons, oranges, tea and soup. However I have never gotten the flu like this before, I am bed-bound, I have no energy and every time I take a little walk I am drained of all the energy I managed to conserve. So how do you guys cure the common cold?