You’re good looking…for a black person

19 Oct

This is one of the best complements I’ve ever received in my life. I know that most of you, especially the self-proclaimed activists will look at me like I just swallowed a bucket of crack cocaine. And I’m aware that some of you may think that this is a more snide and coert form of racism. I disagree and here’s why.

I’m used to peole commenting about my looks and it happened recently with a group of my friends. One of them asked the group if they thought I was good-looking, because she thought I was very pretty (insert hairflip). One of the people responded, “I think you’re really good looking for a black person.” And I wa happy to accept that as a complement, because it’s a sign of progress.

Racism and racial prejudice do exist. But here’s a tidbit about taste: it’s neither innate nor instantaneous; it’s developed. Let’s use the example of a child eating caviar at 6 years old. They’ll probably hate it, because what child likes the taste of forecefully extracted fish embryos? Then at 24, the child goes to a restaurant and unknowingly orders something with caviar. At that point, he tolerates it. It’s not something he’d order, but he’s not practising his bulemia because of it. After more exposure, he starts to like it and orders more and more until he LOVES it. Race is the same.

People with racist backgrounds are starting to interact with people of other ethnicities and are developing a taste for them, which leads to comments like this. What we need to understand as a society is that the general human can only tolerate change in small doses. And we’re not helping the process along by spitting in people’s faces when they say, “You’re good looking for a _____ person.” We’re not helping by making cancerous Buzzfeed videos about the subject; we’re causing regression.

SO next time comments like this pop up, let’s celebrate them and show our gratitude for them and how far we’ve come from what used to be, even though we’re not yet where we want to be; let’s embrace this single step towards global racial tolerance. I hate the saying, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Hunger Games for what?

6 Sep

Who doesn’t love watching a man get beaten to death with a brick? Or watching some old man without a nose chase a little boy around the world with a stick? If you’ve watched both The Hunger Games and Harry Potter, you realise that both are dystopian; well one becomes a dystopia, but that’s besides the point.

We’ve all fallen in love with the characters of these stories and the worlds that they inhabit and the silly little side-stories that developed throughout the books. And it kinda shows in the authors’ bank accounts (billionaire author). But I think our recent obsession with fictional dystopia is so odd, considering that we live in a dystopia that no one could ever dream up. Best of all is that it’s free. For some.

You turn your TV on and you’ll hear about a two month old infant that was raped and burnt to death. You’ll hear about the immigrant crisis and collapsing economies and what that means for everyone. You hear about Donald Trump building a wall. You hear about Donald Trump congratulating the Mexicans on doing well in Olympic high jump, because they’ll need it to jump over the wall. If you could imagine this, then they let you leave the asylum too soon.

But still we idolise books and movies about disastrous events that would probably never happen, but really can’t hold a candle to what’s happening right outside your window. It’s like keeping up with the Joneses. We become so obsessed with other people’s imaginary business that we don’t notice or give enough attention to the real issues and we let them fester and they end up biting off a huge chunk of your butt, because reality always has a way of intruding.

I think that we shouldn’t be praising authors for creating dystopian fantasies, we should instead criticise ourselves for creating the one we live in and deal with it. Because unlike The Huger games or Harry Potter, you don’t get to walk away after two hours of chomping on snacks while wearing a hideous, uncomfortable pair of 3D glasses you’ve had since you were twelve.

You Deserve to Be Poor

3 Sep image

You deserve to be poor. Actually, that’s not good enough for you, you deserve to be beneath dirt poor; underground sewage-rat poor. At first blush, this sounds like Donald Trump: outrageous and offensive, but intriguing.

We live in a time where technology evolves fairly quickly. The most recent darling of the scientific community is Artificial Intelligence, with its multitudinous applications. It’s not just something used to make games played by unemployed momma’s boys more realistic and challenging, it’s now something that could take away your livelihood, your value and your purpose.

A basic computer program could be a better accountant, lawyer, teacher, you name it, than any human could dream of becoming. And it doesn’t take days off because it ‘feels sick’, it doesn’t strike for higher wages and it doesn’t pop children out like piñata does candy. It’s your boss’ wet dream. But it won’t be a dream for much longer.

We’re heading towards a future where a computer is the #1 musician on the planet, is winning Nobel prizes for science or is being a better spouse than any human could. What this will mean for most people is poverty. Most people rely on a steady cheque to cover their monthly expenses (at least some of them), but most people often have more month than money. As a result of having a job, you most likely don’t get to do the things that make you happy, you don’t get to spend as much time with your children as you’d like, you don’t get to have the things you dream about. Artificial intelligence is the cure for this.

Being unemployed is an opportunity for you to asses what really matters to you. It’s an opportunity to start over and make painful, short term sacrifices that will reap long term benefits as opposed to being employed and making unnecessary, unfair sacrifices that reap no benefit. At least not for you.

With artificial intelligence, it becomes cheaper and more accessible and more sustainable to bring your ideas to the market and build a business where you only have to work once a year, where you can pass your job down to your children, where you can spend most of your year painting apples in Paris or chasing your dreams to become a pop star, ’cause that’s life-long commitment (it won’t happen…like, ever…). Being unemployed because of artificial intelligence gives you actual freedom, where you have the opportunity to take any choice given to you.

You won’t have to be so cruel to yourself anymore.

You won’t have to be anything you don’t want to be.

That’s why you deserve to be poor. So that when you rise from rock bottom, you don’t go back to where you came from, because you can’t anymore. Instead, you’ll go to a place beyond your wildest dreams. And that’s how you make people’s lives better. Not with job security or government freebies.


Moi Mentil Mind

Reach for the Sky

29 Aug cc2b84cd211eaca835b04d72969fb673

Two really important discussions took place on my life this week: one about how trees are better than everyone, and the other about making everyone lose their jobs so they could slit their throats.

The first was brought up (surprise, surprise) by my Physics teacher. She told us today that she was Skyping her son over the weekend and they were discussing the possibility that tress are the most evolved life form on the planet. Her reason was that they are the only life form that doesn’t have to kill to sustain itself, unless it’s put in that position such as with eutrification and alien vegetation. She spoke about how if you feel sad, you should hug a tree and feel the cosmic radiation flowing from it and about a movie where a girl could hear trees crying so she became retarded, and about how she went from Scotland to Amsterdam to hug trees and go to the Van Gogh museum to reflect on the fact that she’d been hugging trees. You can tell by these spending habits that she really feels the pinch of the economy.

All of this brings up a conversation that I have frequently with others: Is McDonald’s meat real meat? I joke. We all know the answer to that one (yes). But the question is whether or not the human race is as sovereign as it claims to be. Starting with intelligence vs instinct. So many humans pride themselves the ‘fact’ that they’re more intelligent than animals. But bees use, without thinking, very complex mathematical algorithms, birds are capable of strategizing, animals can plan and dream and have abstract thought (more than we can say for most humans). Very little separates human and animal intelligence; they’re capable of solving the problems that we do, but they don’t have to. So which one is better off?

And the whole instinct debate. I’d say we’re driven just as much by instinct as a gang-raping dolphin or dumb dog. We can clearly see patterns in human behaviour that don’t have to be reinforced and are clearly not thought out. If humans weren’t driven by instinct, why reproduce or have ethics or systems of governance? Why would we respond the same to stimuli and environments? Why would history repeat itself so frequently? And the  saddest part about history is that the people who teach it are the ones that repeat it. Instinct isn’t a constant, often it’s developed.

And evolution or development only ever comes as a result of suffering. We don’t like how things are currently so we change ourselves or our environments so we feel more comfortable or lead better lives. Or actually live life. But in the human case, most of our suffering is self-inflicted. We’ll always look to the government or money-men or mean girls as reasons why our lives aren’t as good as we want them to be; why we’re unhappy in our relationships or why we just never feel fulfilled. So if we are more evolved, taking into consideration what got us there, is it such a good thing?

I think, to circumnavigate back to my teacher, we’re exactly like trees: stagnant. We plant our roots firmly in one spot and stay there forever while reaching for skies we’ll never touch. Science nowadays is in the same position as the church used to be where no one questions it either because to do so is suicide or because science uses such complex and relative language that most people agree with it in fear of looking stupid or they give meaning to something that has none. I think, like the trees, we are self-sustaining. We don’t do research to disprove ourselves, we do it to prove ourselves right. People get counselling to be told that it’s okay, not because they want to get better. We feed ourselves and kill ourselves with the same hand and as a result of doing so, kill everything else; like the tree. And I think we go through our lives with just as little awareness of what’s actually happening as every other tree on the planet.

To prevent the post from being too long and depressing, I’ll finish the rant on Friday.


Moi Mentil Mind.

Making the Cut

25 Aug emo-love-lovers-5823518-500-457

At every school there’s a dominant trend at some point. At some schools it’s buying skate shoes when you never plan on skating, running shoes when you hardly plan on walking, or Pokemon. At my school, we cut ourselves.

I was talking with some friends about primary school, and apparently it was a thing to be depressed. The girls would line up outside the bathroom and go into the stalls and cut themselves and cry. When someone else was going to cut themselves, they’d gather outside the stall and say, “No, so-and-so, don’t cut yourself. It’s not right.” Then they’d go to one of the teachers saying, “So-and-so is cutting themselves again.”

And when the person came out of the stall, everyone would pretend to be emotional and comfort the person, telling them that it was going to be okay. This is why no one ever had a working sharpener in primary school. It also explains why my teachers always looked at me with worry in their eyes. And it’s slightly resurfacing, with people (mostly girls) now saying that they’ve contemplated or attempted suicide. One of my friends (Skye) says that grade 9 was “Show-Skye-Where-You-Cut-Yourself” season. And that’s the issue.

I was talking with people in the psychiatric industry (don’t ask how I know them), and apparently, over 94% of the people that are diagnosed with depression in the private industry are not depressed. They do it so they can use the electric chair or get the drugs or for the bragging rights (I’m better than you cause I’m depressed!). And if we’re seeing these statistics, how can we ever take mental illness seriously enough to deal with it effectively?

The people that are really suffering won’t come forward, because they either think there’s nothing wrong with them, because the symptoms that are being put out there are inaccurate (my neighbour’s friend’s brother’s cousin’s phone died and I started eating McDonalds and felt kinda sad, so I must be depressed) or they think they can deal with it themselves and don’t want to be embarrassed by it. We’re always talking about issues like this, but it seems to me that the more aware people are, the worse it gets and the more of a joke it all becomes. It’s like gluten intolerance and lactose intolerance. You would think intolerances were herpes or a Louis Vuitton bag because suddenly everyone has them (yeah right).

Anyway, Goodier,

Moi Mentil Mind.

The Secret Life of Teachers

15 Aug

When you hear the word teacher, thoughts of a wasted childhood, poisoned apples and back problems at 12 as a result of excessive homework spring to the minds of many. But not every teacher sleeps under their desk at the end of the day. Some lead ‘interesting‘ lives like the four that I’m about to tell you about.

The first one shot himself. He loves guns as much as Donald Trump loves his wall and he has had more jobs than Angelina Jolie has children. So he was polishing a gun when his wife asked him to go to the shops. They started arguing and he stood up, but forgot he was holding a gun and shot himself through the leg. That’s one way to get out of going to the shops.

The next teachers is considered one of the prettiest in the school. So much so, that my classmate asked to be moved out of her class because her bum distracts him. So now she threatens to dress like a Muslim woman. Today she was crying because he dog’s rear legs stopped working and she nearly had to put him down. But that’s beside the point. She’s being stalked by another teacher. During the June exam period, they were moderating the same venue and he followed her around, looming over her shoulder. When she went to the flea market, she got a text saying, “Why didn’t you invite me?” He also stares at her during staff meetings and she stares at the floor, thinking, “FML.” She’s probably going to end up on “I was stalked” or “Women who kill“, but that’s not even close to the fourth.

The third teacher is my Physics teacher, whom I’ve already mentioned on the blog. She was explaining Physics to us when she found it necessary to tell us about when she got drunk on non-alcoholic drinks. It was a hot day and she was alone in the staff room, so she went into the cooler and gulped down a few drinks. Next thing she knows, the floor starts looking woozy and she unhas lunch. She also talks to an invisible boy in the corner of the classroom, so my class is fundraising to get her a bible and exorcist.

The last one is the best. This teacher used to work at a school for disadvantaged girls in the UK. Their poor is our middle class. If you can afford McDonalds and clothes, you are not poor. But at this school was a girl named Disney. So one day, the teacher was living her best life when she saw Disney stab someone with a knife. Not a pen, spoon or ruler; a knife. She cut a female dog. The irony is in her name. Had it been a Shaneequa or Brittany or Shrooti, it would’ve been normal. At least here in South Africa. We saw worse last period. But Disney???

Anyways, Goodier
Moi Mentil Mind.

You Dhont know my situation

15 Jun

Three of the subjects I do at school are Maths, Physics and Accounting; I’m the typical jock. And how things went last term…they went. To start on a high positive note, I got a really good Maths mark, meaning I can essentially get automatic admission into university if I keep it up (that’s what he said). Last term, we also had parent teacher meetings that I didn’t go to, because I wasn’t invited. You know you’re super popular when you don’t get invitations for school events. But one of my classmates went and she said that her parents walked out pissed and wanting to drive-by my house, because for their entire meeting, my Maths teacher used my marks and I as reference for what they should aim for. It’s nice to have your teachers rave about you, but even I would kill myself if I was in my friend’s shoes. But still, though. Praise is praise.

Then comes Physics (ha, ha). I’m in the top Physics class, so my teacher expects high 90%s. Let’s call her Mrs Dhont. Usually, she explains Physics in fun ways, for example: 1) She explained uniform velocity by saying if a bird had diarrhea then the spaces between poos would be the same 2) She explained the dissolution process as a Romeo and Juliet love story with aliens. But the worst part of being in her class is that she reads out your assessment marks to the entire class and if you do poorly, she goes through your test with everyone and airs your laundry. Fun! So before we get our marks back, we hold a prayer circle and afterwards, there’s a psychologist available for those that get below 70%. Thankfully, I just made it.

Then there’s accounting. I think accounting is super fun. It’s like going to Disneyland and talking to the depressed staff that tell you to stay in school so you don’t end up like them. I usually do really well in accounting. Let’s call my accounting teacher Mr Osche. Last term, we did a practice test that I got 90 something on. And before he read my mark, he said, “Now you know that <insert my name> Is one if the stars of our class.”

“Like me, sir?” Asked a poor-performance student.
“No,” replied Sir, “you’re one of our disastars.”

And though we laughed, we definitely weren’t laughing when we got our real test results last term. I got a B-. Then he went around the class asking how much effort, out of ten, we’d put in. When he got to me, I burst out laughing and held up half a finger.

But this is nothing compared to what happens in Sweden. I sit next to someone in English who’s from there and she says that in Sweden, you need a college degree to be a waitress. They get paid 5000 Swedish Krona every month to go to university and they get paid to go to high school, so…
But it’s not like you need a qualification to tell people you don’t have their drink available or to spit into food.

Goodier, Moi Mentil Mind

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