I'm For Children

She had been raped and then beaten to death, she was only a child of six and her body was found mutilated and face down in the muddy mes of her own blood.
Another raped sodomised beaten and then set alight to burn to death.
Their jeans around their ankles, mutilated little bodies in the sand.
These are the children of our kin.
I heard this story last night on the news... Entitled the forest of evil, it tells of a bushy piece of land in the western cape that gives cover to the twisted demented scum of society to commit these atrocities against our children.
The fact that it has taken this long for the government to finally "CONSIDER" clearing this state owned piece of land was, for me, overshadowed by the fact that there are actually people capable of doing these things.
How does a father harden himself so much that he is capable of raping his own 8week old daughter.

Can you for a moment imagine being the mother who has to bear witness as they put the little broken burnt body of your baby onto that stretcher. How do you live knowing that your little girls last moments alive were black with confusion and excruciating pain. How do you accept that the person who had a mind twisted enough to grab at her long blond pig tails and intrude so sickly on the purity of her little body, is walking free.
I know we don't like to imagine these things because their unpleasant, I know its depressing and upsetting, but its nothing compared to the pain that mother carries around with her.....So imagine it!
And then tell me why these rapist, sodomist, child abusers , murderer and text book sickos don't deserve the death sentence.
For the self righteous out there who are gonna quote the bible or tell me that it is not up to man to judge:
I could tell you that the bible also says "spare the rod and spoil the child"and another few holly little extracts that counter your argument, but I prefer the more real world approach.
It has been psychologically proven that if you confine a murderous mind in five years you will have a serial killer on your hands.
Jailing them will not help us it only perpetuates and fuels the problem.
And the saddest thing about it is that the division of the police force that deals with violence against children is most likely going to be closed because the government doesn't have enough money to keep it open. and yet they spent millions on changing the name of the Johannesburg international airport.

I am for children !
And something MUST be done

My Own Way To Heavan

I am drunk on time right now; my mind has been let loose to ponder on the profound and profane underbelly of my tangled mind. I suppose it is this intoxicated mixture of boredom and rebellion that has driven me to place my head on the chopping block of our Conservative little world.

I know full well that I am willingly drowning myself in a narrow minded puddle of "how dare you's" and "shame on you's" and "be damned with you".

and while I through myself over the edge of judgement I fear not the crucifixion.

I don't go to church.

I don't believe in church as an institution.

as the words roll of these keys I can see the conservative hackles rising, I feel the mouse cursors close the window. But for those of you left I proceed to explain my motives for putting distance between me and the great halls of Christianity.

I cut my religious teeth on the cold hard benches of a very Afrikaans church. My father never joined my mother my little sisters and I as we filed into the silent corridors of indoctrination Sunday after Sunday and never answered me when I questioned him on the point. It didn't take me long to find these answers and my opinionated nature grew faster than my ability to wield tact.

I realised that those highly thought of figures on the pulpit were scaring me into believe, Satan and eternal damnation scared me onto the "right path".

A little while latter I tried the water again. I found a church that made sense.

I was free to call myself an evolutionist without being labeled an anti Christ. The writings of the bible no longer contradicted itself because effort was made to see past the literal.

But I was offended by the churches attitude towards woman, when I stood up and said that I am not mearly a vessel for breeding children and my genitals makes me no less worthy of doing the lords will I was met with uncomfortable stares and candid whispers.

I left there for fear of exorcism and I will never go back.

Most recently I have found that my faith in God all mighty is at an all time high, I no longer question the lords will because I am not being lectured on it by a mortal.

I believe that he heals and that he loves because I dont have 2000 (no joke there are more than 2000 different christian churches in the world) different people pulling me in different directions.

I am the Lords Church and confusion is satans greatest tool of destruction.

I dont need to hear ghost stories to scare me into believing and I know that God accepts all people because without the doctrines of the Church I am free to accept all people

The games of our lives

The girl next to me hasn't stopped talking since 8am this morning and though I have learnt how to make the right noises of agrees, the ongoing drone of her voice still makes me want to climb the Walls... the one right ahead of me is screaming at her mother on the other side of a phone call...I don't blame my office manager who escaped to an empty office... he now only communicates with us via e-mails and messenger pigeon... The rest of the office is preoccupied with figuring out what the one click said about the other and it's a never ending soap opera as a bunch of people pretend to be one another best friends whiles in truth they boarder homicidal thoughts towards one another...in another of my social circles, a primal war rages between the lady at court and the hopeless lover....Naturally the whole kingdom has made it their business and revel in the mud slinging...

I suppose its part of the human condition, these tactical webs of deceit we wrap one another in... Its a form of survival....Its not because we dislike confrontation, oh no we thrive on it (if we didn't a certain blog wouldn't be running on 23 comments) its because we are race of hunters and gatherers.... We are a product of a great evolutionary plan.... Its always been a game of eat or get eaten, the rules have just been changed by social doctrines and modern laws... In this day and age the Lion does sleep with the Lamb but only because the lion is saving the lamb for the dry years and the lamb is sucking on the power teet of his mighty friend... I don't tell the girl next to me that I have fantasized of stapling her bottom lip to the desk because it's bad for office dynamics... The girls on the smoke break outside hate one another but dare not reveal because they need one another to create a feeling of comradery from which they can share their cutting gossip...My sister hasn't gotten rid of the poor sods that pine over her yet, not because she values their friendship (because if she did she would have cleared their rose coloured glasses ages ago) but because she knows that the looser she has leashed now wont make the cut and she may need a little black book full of available and willing... I tolerate a whole bunch of people because I have weighed up the pros and cons of keeping them around and the pros outweigh the cons... I am under no illusion that the afore mentioned people keep me around for my sparkling personality, but I do have a point...

We do this we play these games because we are socially programmed to survive (social survival is also survival)... So you may agree or disagree with me on this point but at the end it may prove irrelevant because when faced with the question you answer my be a calculated piece of socially engineering.

Our illusions

I recently had the displeasure of having a discussion with a guy who was so convinced of his own superiority that he was convinced that the people he was feeding his load of unadulterated bullshit to must be in a vegetative state.
This unfortunate Tool was so caught up in the webs of his ego that he completely forgot to take into account the fact that others may actually have the ability to form their own opinion.
I realise that we tend to create our own little illusions that keep us safe from the scary world.
They are almost the same as a comfort zone.
But the problem is that the walls that we build out of our illusions aren't transparent.
The guy whom I am using to illustrate this point doesn't have a job and lives with his parents who take care of him, but he was so convinced that he was "the man" that he was confident enough to take a seat among a group of serious car addicts and proceed to boast about a 1000hp corvette (this can swallow) he was going well up until he explained that the Vett was "electronically tuned". At this we ripped him apart.
This guys illusion is that he is so intelligent and so well respected in society that we wouldn't dare question his word.
I used to be eluded by the believe that everything would be okay if you just believe it. Now however I believe that everything will be alright if you believe enough in yourself to make it happen.
I have also seen whole groups within society build these illusions. People believe that if you are not one of us, if you don't believe what we believe or if you don't look like us, your doomed.
Their illusions are so strong they refuse to make an educated assessment about those who don't conform to the pre conceived norms of their culture, religion, or colour. They rather judge and condemn.
Do you have illusions, think about it.
Personal illusions stop you from learning better and at the end of the day you are bound to make a fool of yourself.
Illusions in society are the root of prejudice and often end in war.
I ask today that each and every one of us asses our lives and find our illusions then work towards breaking down the walls

Its not all black

I learnt a lot yesterday, I also found that all my preconceived ideas about Goths were wrong.
I have a new perspective now, as more myths are dispelled.
I like many, believed that Goth was a form of religion, I also feared these people because of the way they looked.
Now however I have found That Goths are no more then a group of people who have been rejected by society because they don't fear the taboo, because they want to talk about and debate the things that are socially unacceptable.
they are basically a group of rebels and this I can relate to.
As far as the religion bit goes; I found a web site dedicated to christian Goths. Religion has nothing to do with the Gothic life style and your religious persuasions is, ultimately, your business.
And while I have found much literature that defines the culture as a life style based on morbidity I am convinced that it cant be narrowed down to just that.
We all have a bit of an obsession with the dark under belly of the world, The popularity of movies such a underworld and Queen of the damned proof this.
On the flip side however I also believe that these movies are commercialising a movement of Fad Goths who know nothing more about Goth culture than what society has told them (which a very twisted outlook).
As far as the clothing is concerned; I am sure every chick in creation wishes she was brave enough to appear in public in full on under world leathers.
So perhaps there's a little Goth in all of us

The Journey Begins

This morning I was going though the pics that I speradically download for my blog and I realised that most of them have a dark and morbid ambiance, I also realised that most of them have been downloaded from Goth web sites.

I admit now what I used to only admit to myself "I believe that sometimes the extreme lows of human emotion is where we find that we are truly alive"

there is an unpretentious beauty about goth art that is not socially accepted because it is so true.

However anybody who knows me will tell you that I very unsympathetic towards these black robed members of society. I place a lot of emphasis on being happy and unmoved by the knocks life hands you. My motto is simply "get over it" and I am proud of being able to maintain my merry outlook on life.

Perhaps the reason for my negative attitude towards Goths is because they embody what I most fear "accepting the pain and letting it be part of you.

I fear that the pain of loss and disappointment that has been very present my short life may be more than I have strength to handle.

Goths however believe that it is better to embrace the pain the fear and the darkness we all posses so that it becomes a part of you.

I am an open minded person and recently commented on the Grems blog that it has become trendy to be depressed and I stand by my point but I intend to find out more about this subculture of depression and voice the other side of the story

Thus begins my journey of discovery into the Goth world

Our weekend

Friday night
On Sammy's good advice I flat ironed my (thanx Sam) my sister also took the soap box and I did my makeup with running commentary from my sister. However Murphy would not let me off the hook that easy and when I put the iron to DW brand new black shirt (bought specially for the occasion) it burnt a hole as big as "Kimberly se holl" in it. It now looks like the base of my iron has been rubberised.
DW ended up wearing another shirt with little grace and we then tracked into the deep dark reaches to find the function.

We arrived and I commented on the decoration.

"That's nice" I said. To which DW answered "Yes; can we go home now"

The speeches were long but the dinner made up for it and when DW dished half a ton of beef roil I was sure the man had over estimated my willingness to take food home in my handbag

We danced a little longer and then left before one of my colleagues was able to commission us to help him cripple the bar

Saturday (Wesbank)

Each year about this time the VW club hosts a Jamboree day for charity and DW has a different car there each year.

Last year he took his brand new little Ford Fiesta ST to proof why Ford doesn't have a contender in the F1 grid.

After 48 laps around the track the little ST registered its protest by spitting its clutch out.

This year however the VW club saw DW coming and made sure that only 4 laps at a time were allowed.

So off we went to find out just what the OPC is made of.

She is a beauty around the circuit and listening to the turbo wind up on the straights and the wheels grip the corners in the shikains was enough to make my heart go pitter patter.

The car and DW did wel and by the time we left the OPC was a worthy contender for the Glof 5 GTI's and was running about third over all at 132sec

I will give you updates on the score board latter

Saturday Night

Come for a drink at my place Juan said to us on Saturday, However when we agreed we had now idee that we would end up going to bed at two in the morning.

We played pool and kings and 5s and ching chong cha and all of this to the hydraulic support of KWV brandy.

We finally retired after DW got the last king in both games and we finished the wobbly bottle of home made brandy in a game of fives

Sunday
Well after the shenanigans of the night before Sunday was dedicated to rehab and re-cooperation. If you look hard enough at people in the pics you can actually see the hangover pounding away at them.

We had a braai and again I ended Up doing the Braaing and then I burnt the pudding.

all in all it was a good afternoon and by the time the rain started we were watching a doci film on a bunch of idiots who surfed the Amazon river

I hope all of you had as much fun as we did.

And Thanks again to Sam

Dressed to Kill

If you ask anybody they will tel you that I am a bit of a tom boy (damn I hate to discribe myslef that way)..... Lets put it this way, I am not that hung up on the hair and makeup thing as other girls are..... I suppose thats because nobody ever took the time to teach me these finner details of life....... Dont get me wrong, I like looking good I just dont have the required skills to look my best.

For example; I was 20 years old when I bought my first hair drayer thing, The grem sat behind me frouning as I tried to work the damn thing, and then finally threw his hand in the air and said "your doing it wrong let me help you"...... As far as make up is concerned I try to avoid it...... I own a eye liner that I use sparingly because I tend to rub my eyes and plaster it all over my face. I almost never wear lipstick because it tasts like wax, I have a good skin so I dont see the point of foundation and I've never had a manicure in my life.

This is not all that bad for everyday life but Tomorrow I have to attend a formal year end function with a bunch of attornies and I dont know what to do..

First off the hair is a disaster because I threw my curling brush at DW and broke it (not a fight but one of our ritual wrestling matches.... that still doesnt sound right) and I have a very thick bush of black hair (that was purpel at some stage due to a colouring accedent) and my hair dryer thingy over heats every two minutes....... I have to do my own make up and put myself into a dress and do all this in half an hour.

Needless to say I need Help.....................

Skies of Fire and wet braai wood

Okay I realise that its Wednesday already and I'm a bit late of the mark but hey I've been busy, and last night when I couldnt sleep because there was a McLaren SLR haunting me I remembered that we took some nice pics this weekend.
These sun set shots were taken on Friday night whilst we were batteling to breath life into our hopeless braai fire the sky set alight. DW took the one on the left from our front door and I took the pink one from our back door. Heavan offered up her full palet for us that night and I though you'd like to share in this. Wel a bit latter we got the fire going after we had to go to Kempton for wood.

We got into the swing of things and had a few drinks. I tried my hardesy, but despite my greatest efforts to keep my face off any pics, The Grem caught me and and got me and my G-string plashed straight into our photo album. DW was behind the camara so he is not completely blameless. You can see the partners in crime here donning there usual gracefull salute. So after that we set about the very serius job of tanning a few T-bones, which I had to do because neither of these big bad boys can braai to save their lives, we had a few more drinks and then a few more . Now since I had been the victom of slavery all day long I hit the sac at ten and and when the cat's away the mice will play, I next opened my eyes to a chorus of coughing and weezy chests. This I found was the after marth of a game. It was the most rediculus game I had ever heard of and all I could do was voice my concern as my friends, that now included Juan, inhaled seven ton's of cherry tabaco smoke. I dont care to elaborate..... the last pic in this montage shows the following morning (grem spent the rest of saturday surgically attached to his phone)

Too much love will Kill you

I've always been a great Queen fan.

For most people the thought of queen makes you think of the great Freddi but for me it conjures up thoughts of one of the greatest guitarists I have ever seen.

This song was a Queen original But when Brian May performed it at a Pavarotti and friends concert it really ment something.
Perhaps it touches you too.

Im just the pieces of the man I used to be

Too many bitter tears are raining down on me

I'm far away from home

And I've been facing this aloneFor much too long

I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me

About growing up and what a struggle it would be

In my tangled state of mindI've been looking back to findWhere I went wrong

Too much love will kill you

If you can't make up your mind

Torn between the loverAnd the love you leave behind

You're headed for disaster'cos you never read the signs

Too much love will kill you

Every time

I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be

And it seems like there's no way out of this for me

I used to bring you sunshine

Now all I ever do is bring you down

How would it be if you were standing in my shoes

Can't you see that it's impossible to choose

No there's no making sense of it

Every way I go I'm bound to lose

Too much love will kill you

Just as sure as none at all

It'll drain the power that's in you

Make you plead and scream and crawl

And the pain will make you crazy

You're the victim of your crime

Too much love will kill you

Every time

Too much love will kill you

It'll make your life a lie

Yes, too much love will kill you

And you won't understand why

You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul

But here it comes again

Too much love will kill youIn the end...In the end.

Rosses Grow in Ashes

In the 1940 war had torn the peoples of the world apart.

Hitler was raging a cruel assault on man kind and it seemed that darkness and dispare would be The only future left open for so many.

Yet roses grow from ashes and it was during this time of hardship and fanine that a father truly appreciated his gifts for the first time.

He had scowled his daughter the day before Christmas for she had been wasteful with the last sheet of tissue paper. During a time of war money is tight and everything must be used sparingly.

But children are forgiving creatures and on Christmas morning she proudly presented her father with the box that she had caring wrapped in that tissue paper.

Alas when the father opened the box and found it empty his anger grew again.

To him it was adding insult to injury and he lashed out at the little girl.

"don't you know that when you give someone a gift you must put something in the box"

The little girls eyes welled up with tears as she explained that the box wasn't empty.

"I blew kisses into the box daddy" she whimpered
"I gave you kisses for Christmas daddy because I love you"

At that the father took the child in his arms and apologised for he was a fool.

Sadly fate often has a cruel way of making a point.

And the little girl died just days latter.

It is said that the father kept the careingly wrapped box of kisses by his bed and drew strength From it in the hard times that lay ahead.

May this stay with you during this festive season.

May you remember the important gifts you've been given.
Remember your box of kisses.

The kind words and smiles the encouragement you've received from those around you.

Be grateful for these small but all important gifts.

E-Buddies

I have nothing to say!...so if this blog turns out to be a disaster, I have already explained myself.........Not wanting to be left out among the more dedicated bloggers I intend to make something of this dead los situation and write something of some substance........... Of late our little community of bloggers and co. have put a lot of focus on friends and the meaning of friendship. Perhaps its just because Sam was right in saying that this is the time of year of good will, or perhaps its because the defining lines have been blurred a bit..........The grem and I discussed this at length last night and I want your opinion................I have many friends and I define friends as the people who's company I enjoy rather than the people who know my inners most thoughts. I care for my friends and I will help them out to the best of my ability if they need it. ............Friendship isn't measured by tears or by time.......... But here's where it gets tricky. ............Lately have been talking to a bunch of people I met on the net every day........... I talk to them more than the peeps I call my friends. Sometimes its a quick thread on MSN just to say Hi.........Other times we post on one another blogs to show that we made the time to read what was going on in one another lives...........We are supported by these people when were down and often the kind words or funny quotes give us a much needed boost.............. The point is that these "e-buddies" are showing an active interest in your day to day doings and screwing..........But most of them you've never met........ Then there are other issues..........The most beautifully of them all. It happens.... almost every day.... what if you were to find someone on the net you could see yourself fall in love with.......You've never seen one another so your feelings aren't tainted by the persons looks. You are simply attracted to their souls. The distance makes it all sweeter and that person helps you be the person you want to be because your inhibitions are through to the wind..........Now my question is......Do you consider these people your friends and would you consider meeting them.........I understand that the idea of meeting a person of the net is creepy but what if it were a group of people in a public place and no one single person out of the group goes alone each must bring a friend.......if I were to meat someone that's the way I would do it

Song for a beloved (The widows grief)

And so the end now draws near

Those hopes

Those dreams

Wrapped now in the silver chains of menace

The end draws closer

Minuets draw slower their life

And above

the moon weeps for her

The end hath come

And yet days do not cease

Lunar and solar displayed are their glory each in turn

And darkness consumes this soul

Open wounds ooze their malignant spoils

The end has blanketed the mind in black mist and fear

There are ashes in the roses

And a future burnt with them

There are ashes in the roses

Death given

to life

But lo...

Somewhere she weeps

Her eyes have shadows now

Caught and held in desolation she does not understand

Taken from her soul

Cut from her flesh

And bled from her body

The recognition of herself in another