Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Running Amuck


Thought I would lie down for 5 minutes before going for a run yesterday and ended up losing consciousness. Have been really tired and the last few days, but I'd rather catch up on sleep and recharge on immunity than train myself sick.

I also managed to attend my first university class yesterday and my second today.

Teaching the Chinese kids is going well. We spent quite a while studying Groundhog Day (I took my DVD player along), so time went by quickly and it was quite enjoyable. Not a bad way to earn a living!

After teaching I had lunch - macaroni, just what the doctor ordered, and after a short nap got up at 4pm and ran a route I used to run when I was a hotshot triathlete. It's a 9km route with two or three sharpish climbs. I felt a lot lighter and quicker than the last time I did this route, and was encouraged to finish under 45 minutes. I also ran into Andre, who was cycling around Preller, and we had a good chat while I puffed alongside. He said on the uphill I was going 10km/h and on the downhill, 11.5km/h. He also asked if I would make myself available as the media representative for the Free State Cycling Federation (He works as a printing technician, I think, for our local newspaper, controlled by mighty Media24). I said sure.

Total time: 44:38
Distance: 9km
Ran with iPod and a light t-shirt. Felt good.

Meant to also go swimming tonight but spent a lot of time doing work on the labs computers. Wrote a story on the Airbus for Ohmynews and another story on Survivor SA for reporter. My picture of the Krugersdrift dam overflowing, taken with my Samsung phone, was published on the front page of reporter.co.za. Isn't technology wonderful!

Have 2 stories pending that I'll do later tonight or tomorrow:
1) Meeting Venus: Your nursery is full of surprises
2) Bulemia Up Close: What happens when self esteem gets sick

I also bought the latest SHAPE magazine on a whim. My story on Ina van Tonder is on page 131. Check it out.

To get Shape on your cellphone go here:
http://www.shapemag.co.za/static/Mobizine/index.php

Satellite broadband delivers news

Tuesday, 10 October 2006
News teams are discovering the benefits of BGAN services to deliver the latest news updates from remote areas in the region. Mike Feazel reports.

Shortly after a massive landslide devastated the village of Guinsaugon in southern Leyte province in the Philippines in February this year, a reporting team from Korean Broadcasting System (KBS) was in the village, broadcasting live
via satellite.
The KBS team was using essentially the same technology that allows yachts in the Mediterranean, the South China Sea, or even passengers on Singapore Airlines, data access or to send streaming media via the Internet. The Korean reporters sent both stored video files and live streaming video back to Seoul via a briefcase-like satellite antenna and transmitter terminal called the BGAN, or Broadband Global Area Network, that altogether weighed well under 3kg.

The briefcase transmitter/receiver could be set up in minutes and be transmitting via the satellites of the International Maritime Satellite Organization (Inmarsat).“In broadcasting, and the media industry, the most important thing is to be able to convey updated news reports to viewers quickly,” said Tony Park, engineering director of South Korea-based Arion Communications Company, which provided the transmitters and satellite time to KBS.Because the site of the landslide would make using heavy newsgathering equipment dangerous, only lightweight systems were allowed.“The field where the incident occurred might be unpredictable and dangerous,” Park explained, “so with heavy equipment, reporters might have difficulty moving promptly and gathering news.”

Inmarsat’s BGAN high-speed satellite data service solves that challenge by packing everything a broadcaster needs into a briefcase-sized package that is several times smaller than the camera and other equipment the reporting team carries anyway.

As the BGAN terminal can handle full-quality voice and Internet data transmissions, it also allowed the KBS team to leave its Iridium satellite telephones behind, thus reducing costs and, as the Iridium phones are nearly as heavy as a BGAN terminal, adding little to the total weight.Size and convenience are the main reasons KBS chose BGAN, Park said. “Because it is ultra portable and has a high-speed data rate. Besides, the price of the equipment is much cheaper, and the service rates are cheaper too.”

For its coverage of the landslide, KBS reporters sent back some video clips to Seoul as digital files that transmitted in slower than real time. The advance transmissions allowed higher-quality video to be received in Seoul, stored and played back during the 9pm newscast.

In addition, the reporter on the scene did a live stand-up, allowing the anchor to ask additional questions and show the responses in real time, though the streaming IP data rate was limited to a somewhat less than satisfactory 128kbps, meaning less than full broadcast quality video.“To be honest, the streaming service was not good,” Park admitted, “and sometimes transmission of data was not always successful.”

But, as has also been the case in news coverage of the Gulf War, many news organisations have found that even reduced-quality video of a very newsworthy event is better than no video at all.“In spite of the problems, KBS is satisfied with BGAN,” Park said. However, a high priority for future generations of the product is to get higher data rates. Park also said KBS would like an Inmarsat earth station closer to Seoul, allowing cheaper and more stable connections.

BGAN can be used via a variety of terminals from manufactures such as Hughes, Thrane & Thrane, Nera and Addvalue. The Nera terminal, for example, weighs less than 1kg, though its data rate is only 64kbps. One Hughes terminal handle up to 256kbps, and all have Ethernet and USB connectivity, and some offer Bluetooth.

Inmarsat BGAN satellite coverage is available throughout Asia, with the exception of the northern part of Japan, and extends through about half of Australia, as well as all of Europe and Africa, and most of the Americas. Inmarsat claims it reaches more than 85% of Earth’s landmasses.Customers can either pay per megabit for best-effort service or by the minute for reserved on-demand capacity at a guaranteed data rate.BGAN service was also used by rescuers in the aftermath of the Java earthquake in May this year.

France-based Telecom Sans Frontieres flew in teams equipped with BGAN to help aid agencies help thousands of victims.A similar satellite-delivered broadband Internet service is now available to yachts in the Mediterranean and the Caribbean via Intelsat. Integrated services provider Station 53 uses Intelsat transponders on the IS-905 satellite at 335.5°East to deliver voice-over-Internet protocol (VoIP) telephony, as well as data transfers and Internet connectivity through Intelsat’s GlobalConnexSM-managed network.Station 53 said the result is higher than DSL speed for connections, primarily to luxury yachts.

The speeds support streaming video both upstream and downstream, it said. “Our customers demand always-on connectivity, whether for work, recreational or safety rea- sons,” said Station 53 president Sean Farrell.Such mobile high-speed satellite broadband services, however, have not been a universal success. Citing high costs and relatively low revenue, commercial aircraft maker Boeing recently decided to pull the plug on its Connexion by Boeing high-speed satellite service to commercial airlines.Boeing officials said the market did not materialise “as expected” since the service was launched.

Boeing Chairman Jim McNerney said Boeing will write off about US$320 million of the money it invested in Connexion, but an internal evaluation determined that that was best for the company. Boeing talked with several potential buyers for Connexion, but did not receive any offers that were better than a simple shutdown, officials said.Not everyone agreed with that decision.

Harry Harteveldt, an analyst with Forrester Research, speculated that Connexion might just be “an idea that is ahead of its time”. He speculated that with time, and the right pricing, a service like Connexion could be a big success in the long term. Consultant Tim Farrar predicted in-flight communications could generate $300 million revenue annually.Part of the problem, some experts said, was that Boeing contracted for too much transponder space aboard satellites operated by Intelsat, SES Americom, Eutelsat, AsiaSat and others, including a 20-transponder SES lease just for trans-Pacific coverage.

But other inflight satellite or cellular communications services continue offering much the same thing to customers, including some operated by AirCell, OnAir and Jet Blue.

Thailand-based Shin Satellite’s broadband satellite business has also been struggling. For the fiscal quarter ended June 30 this year, Shin Satellite lost nearly $1 million, and revenue slipped 10% to $40 million. Most of the decline was in its IPStar satellite broadband business, where revenue fell to $5.7 million from $14.2 million a year ago. Shin officials, however, said they believed the downturn was a minor blip, and that future quarters would show renewed growth.Even Inmarsat had a downturn in its most recent quarter, though sales of its broadband service to the aeronautical industry were up 36%, driven by growth in its new Swift64 Broadband service.

Much of the growth has been in use of its BGAN service by the news media, said CEO Andrew Sukawaty. “In the Middle East, you’d be hard-pressed to see a single news programme which is not using [a BGAN terminal for broadcasting].”

Kunstler: Apogee vs Aygo




Okay, I admit it. The world is running out of oil, but before it does...ssshhh...there is a car I would like to buy.

I know that sounds like wanting to shoot a rhino before it becomes extinct, but while the party is still on, I would like my small crumb in the cake. My children will probably say, "Dad, what was a car?" Must I say something like: "Well, I stopped driving them because I knew we all would have to soon."
Actually, you know, that sounds like something I might want to say in TheWorldAfterThis.

Image below is of the Aygo (pronounced 'I go'), soon to be released in Europe, and then here.

Kunstler's comments below...

October 9, 2006 Against the background of everything else happening in the financial markets is the apparent circumstance of peak oil. Even The New York Times joined the chorus in a Sunday editorial, saying:

Our demand for petroleum products strains the limits of the global capacity to supply them. In past decades, if a pipeline broke in Nigeria, Saudi Arabia might compensate by setting workers to pumping more oil. Now, with little additional capacity, rising prices are necessary to balance out supply and demand.

No more increasing capacity = peak oil. It's as simple as that. We now have nine and a half months of "rearview mirror" action to look back and see that world oil production has retreated from its all-time high of just over 85 million barrels a day (m/b/d) achieved in December 2005 (just as geologist Kenneth Deffeyes of Princeton had predicted). For 2006, production has remained in the 84 m/b/d range every month reported so far, while demand has exceeded that.

Texas oil man Jeffrey Brown, a commentator at TheOilDrum.com, the outstanding oil discussion group on the Internet, makes the point that Saudi Arabia is at the same point statistically (in terms of ultimate recoverable reserves) that Texas was at in 1972 when production there peaked. The world's four greatest oil fields are in depletion (Burgan [Kuwait], Daqing [China], Cantarell [Mexico], and Ghawar [Saudi Arabia]) and these have accounted for over 14 percent of the world's oil production. (Ghawar alone accounts for over 60 percent of Saudi Arabia's production.)

The North Sea has peaked and production there is "crashing." Venezuela has peaked and its oil is shitty heavy crude. Indonesia (an OPEC member) has peaked and is now a net oil importer. Nigeria's political chaos is making production increasingly difficult-to-impossible. Production in the Canadian tar sands is not making up for losses elsewhere. The US is down to about a four-year supply of conventional crude and condensates while we import 70 percent of the oil we consume. Discovery of new oil (including Chevron's largely hypothetical deepwater "Jack" finds) is barely covering a fraction of the world's consumption. So it goes....

Where finance is concerned, the basic implication of peak oil is pretty stark: an end to industrial expansion (i.e. "growth"). All the alternatives to oil will not keep the industrial economies expanding -- they can only slow down a contraction, and only marginally so. The trouble with this picture is that finance is a system that uses paper markers to represent the hope and expectation for the expansion of wealth. These markers are currencies, stocks, bonds, option contracts, derivatives plays, and other certificates that are traded in open markets. If there is no longer any hope of increased wealth in the world, then all those tradable paper markers become losers. Their value unwinds and imagined piles of wealth evaporate into thin air.

The unwinding process depends on the psychology of the people who own these certificates. If they do not understand the global oil situation and its implications, then they will continue to hope for and expect expanded wealth, and thus continue to regard their paper certificates as credible markers of value. And that is largely the case at the moment, since most of the playas in the financial markets are not paying attention to the peak oil story, or don't believe it is for real.

Two special and transient circumstances are now propping up the financial markets. One is that for practical purposes the world is virtually at peak, meaning this is an extra-special time of strange behavior (like the point in the apogee of a steep sub orbital flight in which passengers become momentarily weightless). Supply and demand for oil are only beginning to go out of whack (that is, demand just barely exceeding supply). Even at this early stage, the oil markets themselves are showing stress, as hoarding behavior sets in and induces wider swings of price volatility. But these swings in oil prices -- such as the one we're in right now, where prices have crashed 20 percent since the panic buying (hoarding) of June and July -- send false signals to the financial playas. The main false signal is that all is well on the global oil scene...there's no real supply problem...and hence no threat to the continuing expansion of industrial production and its associated wealth-generating activities. This signal just tells the playas to buy more paper markers. Thus, the stock market goes up.

The way to peak is that financial markets take on a life of their own -- as existing wealth "invests" itself in more paper markers hoping and expecting to "grow" into even more wealth. The problem here is that existing wealth is actually being squandered, since the paper markers will only lose value as the hopes and expectations vested in them dissolve in disappointment. But we haven't quite reached that point yet.

In simply bidding the markets up, the system has spun off even more gobs of presumed wealth. Some of this "liquidity" -- say, in the checking accounts of people who work for Goldman Sachs -- has found its way into Manhattan condominiums, or Aspen McMansions, and filtered through the system to everyone from the lawyers who write up the pre-nuptial agreements to the guys who sell the furniture to the people who drive the delivery trucks that bring it to the door, to the men laying tiles in the new bathrooms.

The basic insanity of a system that presumes vastly increased wealth where none will occur, has led to further distortions in finance. The most obvious one is the so-called housing bubble. The misplaced extreme expectation in the ever-increasing value of paper wealth, led to the hijacking of mortgages by financial playas who bundled them into odd lots of tradable debt (promises to pay) and used them to leverage abstruse bets (hedges) on the behavior of other kinds of paper markers (currencies, interest rate differentials, commodity prices) -- very profitably as long as all playas believed that industrial societies that run all oil would continue to grow, to produce more wealth. The level of abstraction in these rackets -- their distance from the reality of productive activity --is self-evident.

But they were so successful that the profligate creation of ever more mortgages became an increasingly reckless and irresponsible enterprise. Contracts were made with house-buyers who had no record of credit worthiness and often no real proof of income. Contracts were made on terms (interest payments) that were deceptive, even ruinously false, for the house-buyers. The reckless reassignment of lending risk into ever more abstract layers of deferred obligation, and the ease of credit that ensued, allowed millions of ordinary people to acquire real property on unrealistic terms, which had the affect of bidding up the price of houses that these owners will eventually have to surrender for nonpayment.

That process is now underway. The reckless creation of mortgages had the further effect of stealing demand for house-building from the future. So many new houses were built and then sold to people who will probably have to surrender them, and then so many more beyond that were built in the expectation and hope that reckless mortgage creation would continue forever, that there is now a massive over-supply of total existing houses while the pool of suckers for new ruinous mortgages has shrunk to zero.

Similar excesses in all the other lending and debt sectors, including "non-performing" credit card obligations and government deficits, will also unwind and thunder through the system.

Meanwhile, the false signal from the oil markets that has been broadcasting for eight weeks will come offline and a new signal will come on as prices go back up. The pause in bidding for future oil induced by the panic over-buying of the summer will end. The heating season is here. It's 40 degrees out in upstate New York this morning and the furnace is cranking. The Chinese and the Indians and even the people in France have not stopped using oil, even if Americans have put their Winnebagos up on blocks for the season.

As the price of oil goes back up, the financial markets will get a new signal that running industrial societies has just gotten more expensive again. That will dampen hopes and expectations for increased wealth from these societies. Meanwhile, the air will be coming out of millions of mortgages, and the loss of value will spread among playas holding these bundles of mortgage debt (i.e. promises that money spent on houses is being paid back, which it won't be). At the same time the houses themselves will lose value as the pool of potential buyers shrinks to nothing. That is, the inflated value (high price) of these assets will deflate.

As this occurs, there will be far fewer wage-earners putting up additional houses, fewer furniture sales, fewer trips by delivery truck drivers and fewer tile-jobs in the McBathrooms.

This is why I view the fall melt-up of the stock markets as a swan dive. We're at the apogee now, just as the world is at the apogee of its oil production. I confess, I thought the reality of our economic predicament would be recognized by the playas and their markets sooner than it has. It turns out the chief luxury of the final cheap oil blowout has been the artificial support of unrealistic hopes and expectations.

from www.kunstler.com

Survivor South Africa

Rana's luck changes

While Barry Ronge wrote in the Sunday Times' magazine this week that he doesn't care who gets voted off Survivor SA (and presented a Political Survivor SA model), there's someone I'd like to stick around: It's Nico, the restaurant guy.

Nico may not be playing with all the wits that a survivor needs to win the game, but he's entertaining and likable.

This episode was technically pretty good. Less disembodied voiceover's from Mr Bayly (some quick flickbacks to show his face when he makes a comment). My only criticism is Nico looking straight at the camera while drinking his coffee. It was a weird 'aha' moment. It made me think: 'Shucks, they obviously tell them to ignore the camera and it's probably quite hard to do'.Not sure if it was this week's or last week's episode but I also spotted the edge of a microphone dipping under the top of the TV screen. Small mistakes, but it blows the whole Castaway vibe.

For once Rana won an immunity challenge: seems Gareth is a good swimmer, and his swim put Rana ahead, with the others maintaining his lead.

Brigitte probably committed the cardinal error both for herself and other females on the island by voting for Mzi as arranged, instead of Nico (who she wanted to vote out). As a result Nico got only 2 votes, and was saved from possible elimination. This means Aguila, with Danielle gone, are 2 men and 2 women strong. Rana interestingly enough have the same setup. If Brigitte voted Nico out, the women would have outnumbered the men 5 to 3. But with even odds the question will the men outwit the women?
If Zayn doesn't pull up his pants (which seem to keep falling down), he will be the next to exit Rana.

Don't the tribes merge round about now? Watch the next episode to find out whether the boys or the girls are going to survive on the island the longest.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Terrorist in the Making?


No, just sanding old paint off an old desk.

Arien


This 18 year old cyclist has travelled and raced in Belgium, the Netherlands and Italy. She won the recent Windmill's Casino race and I'll hopefully interview her when she's in Bloem again for the Ofm race, 107km long.

This picture was taken on one of our Sunday morning excursions.

Monday, October 09, 2006

The Weight of Irony

After being on my own, the outsider looking in for such a long time - 4 years - it's an amusing twist of irony to be teaching Asian kids in Bloemfontein. They are really so far away from their world it's scary. They're actually not even in Bloemfontein but on a smallholding just outside of Bloem, so they have no internet connection, and not much happens on the farm after classes.
This must induce a kind of culture shock - instead of intense overcrowding and overpopulation there are very few people for miles, instead of cities and transport systems there are just long stright ribbons of tar with no buses on them, instead of massive pollution there are blue skies, instead of millions of same faced people, there's a melting poit of Africans and Europeans running around, instead of internet connectivity there's a TV that needs to be hooked up.

It's tough teaching 6 hours straight to one class of 8, but there are one or two med students and Jing is not only attractive but speaks very well, so that makes things easier. I can teach at a fairly high level, and it's quite enjoyable. Going to be tough getting out there in bad weather.

I do come away from work a lot fresher and in less of an emotional malaise than at Brebner, which leaves you feeling like you've been mauled, stabbed and gutted by endless mobs of thugs.

My girlfriend saw my new place last night. Everyone is thrilled - I am too - it's a comfortable little place, perhaps a home after all (have I arrived?), although there is a slight threat of rainwater getting in under the door. Have taken pictures and will load them as soon as I can.

I also took some pictures at the Capital to Capital race so will load these. My right hamstring is sensitive today. The muscle pulled a few times, and although I straightened it out, I think it got a little bruised. Will run today, but maybe easier than I otherwise would, and if it hurts I'll just stop. Have an idea it's a cycle specific running injury.

Referring to the comments below, I think the last 30km would have been tough for me no matter how this race turned out. I think I would have struggled up the last 2 hills even if I'd had a good start. I'm pretty sure Barendine is fitter than me at this point, but not stronger. So riding on my own would have developed my fitness.
I'm chuffed to have done such a long ride this early in the year. Last year I did it as late as December. Going to try to do an 180km ride once a month.

On Sunday:
Swim: 1.75km
Time: 0:41
Some kicking, stroking, mixing it up. Last 25 m = 15 seconds.
Weight: 80.05kg

I'm really pleased to have lost this much weight. Now to get below 80kg. When the weight comes down its going to be a lot easier to fly up the hills, and not just down.

Now I'm going to fetch a framed picture, have a quick sleep then go for a run and then I have a class at university. Also need to check if any rain seeped into my place last night. Have already called Andrew to make sure that if there is any work that needs to be done in that area will be done.

Sunday, October 08, 2006



image courtesy topleftpixel.com

180km


After sleeping just over 3 hours, in a dark and stormy night, I really didn't want to wake up before 5am and drive to Kimberley so that I could cycle the whole way back. Somehow the fact that I had not trained earlier in the week, resting to be fresh for today's race, made me feel like I had to go. There was the option of a local 80km race; the guy who drove us up, Hennie, wanted to be back in time to ride that at 9am (our race started at 8am in Kimberley).

Funnily enough, just after rescuing a flat-looking tortoise on the outskirts of Kimberley, we suddenly didn't feel like riding at all. The weather was windy, the sky a moody watercolor filled with swathes of brooding rain.

There were two pro teams, and then abnother 20 or 30 other riders. In the warm up I didn't feel very fresh. I felt very sleep deprived and faintly irritable.

At about 8:30 we set off, at an easy pace. At this point we were heading into a virtual headwind, and we were barely hitting 30km/h.
Then, for no apparent reason, Barendine's chain hopped off the chainring, and it sounded like all hell was breaking loose - like metal jousting with itself. As a result, Barendine fell out of the group and when I turned back I saw she'd stopped in the middle of the road causing a long queue of cars behind her to also stop. She called me while all of this was happening and I found myself floating in nowhereland, with the bunch drifting off, like an icecream into a desert.

A chain slipping off often happens because you've stretched your chain. It may also be a misalignment of gears (the gear over the chainring), but a self-respecting cyclist usually has his gears working efficiently, especially a cyclist who participates often in races. My chain came off in an extremely tricky section of the Argus, and on an uphill (that means you're going up, and suddenly you're pedalling fresh air). With riders around you, it's a recipe for falling.
I was lucky to be able to use my gears to get the chain back on in a few seconds, without having to stop and get off my bike. Unfortunately Barendine spent the better part of a minute trying to sort out the chain. I've seen her riding with the chain on the small chainring and then at the back its on the biggest gear (the smallest cog), and that's something you just should never do. Why? Because a stretched chain is always going to want to hop off.

By the way, losing a bunch in the first 5km of a 180km race is probably the worst case scenario. If you lose the bunch because of a puncture, that's one thing, because its unavoidable, but losing it because of a chainring incident? If I had been less sleepy I might have shed a few tears of frustration. As it was, I squeezed out a few long lines of precious salt and sweat as we pursued the bunch. My heart rate went up to over 160 but I was trying to get to the bunch as soon as possible to make sure this effort against the wind went on for the shortest possible time. I kept getting held up by Barendine who I think was monitoring her heart rate and trying to keep it to a certain level. At one point we had a bunch of three guys in front of us and it just went on and on...just about 10 metres in front. When I heard Barendine talking to some guy next to her I got really pissed off. I sank back and told her to hurry up so we could rest a while behind this temporary windbreak of three riders. I had been doing all the work for her and she didn't seem to be involved in what we were doing.

After riding behind the three black riders, I went by and we eventually reeled in another small group. I had the help of an enthusiastic young guy in white, but very few of the others helped. That was the first hour or more. Ideally, a long ride like this you shouldn't let your heart rate go over 150, perhaps on a hill you can go a bit higher, say 160. Mine went to 174.

At about 80km, less than halfway, I could already feel the strain of the long 30km pursuit against the wind. My legs just felt full of lactate. My waterbottle for once had GAME in it, and as it turned out, was too sweet and not salty enough. I had a packet of chips with Barendine's mom, but how to get it?

Just outside Dealesville (at 110km) I actually lost touch with our bunch (which was about 7 of us, including the two leading ladies) on a long drag, but gained momentum on the downhill on the other side and shot back across the gap - more than 300m to eventually rejoin them. That was a good feeling. But my system was feeling really week - I could feel I was dehydrating. It wasn't that I didn't have liquid, I just didn't have water. Everything I was eating and drinking was sugary and I just needed something that wasn't sweet.

I stopped at Dealesville and bought some water, allowing the bunch to leave without me. I thought I'd do another 20km or so, and then get a lift back or something. Fortunately once back on the bike I felt really good, and a healthy tailwind was whipping from behind, so that my average speed hit 31.8km/h until about 160km. Having drank plenty of water my body started to demand salt. I didn't have enough money to buy salty chips at the shop, and Barendine's mother left before I could get the chips I'd stowed in my cooler bag. The symptoms of lack of salt are cramps, and on a small hill about 25km outside Bloemfontein one leg muscle suddenly went into spasm (on the top side of the leg, just above the knee), and immediately after that, the other leg (on the underside, a line of muscle on the edge of the hamstring). So I'd pedal once to straighten one muscle, then the other would go, and again. I thought I was going to fall off the bike!

I threw the chain onto the small chainring and stood, almost motionless, while I allowed both legs to relax. It took a while! Then gradually, I was allowed to get back into a rhythm. At this point I knew the two or three hard uphills at the end were out of the question. I left the course before the first of these, cycling through Langenhovenpark. I turned up what I thought would be a slight incline to avoid Bankovs Boulevard, a drag similar to the one at 155km. But this hill was worse. My muscles did the same trick, and I responded with a sort of jack-knife pedalling action - one muscle cramps, straighten it, other muscle, straighten that one. I hovered on my bike for half a minute before the salt levels, low as they were, reached some kind of acceptable homeostasis, allowing me to go on.

I arrived at my girlfriend's house and passed out on the lawn. Check out these stats:

Total time: 5h43min
Heart rate: 153 average/174 max
Distance: 177km (add 1 or 2 km because I started my heart rate monitor fairly late in the neutral zone, which went on for quite a while through Kimberley
Average speed: 30.9km/h (After the first cramps it dropped very quickly, since I spent a few minutes in a holding pattern, waiting for the muscles to relax).
Air temperature: 27 C max/23 C average/ 21 C min
Altitude: 1377m max / 1220m average/ 1152m minimum
Kcal: 5718

Barendine won the R1000 first prize. I'm happy for her. She had to chase down a small bunch out of Dealesville and she did that on her own, so that's commendable. My race was incredibly hard, because of the hard start, and riding on my own for the last 70km, and also the lack of salt which I knew was important. In one sense it was good training.
In the future I don't think I'm going to be riding in a supporting role. I'd like to be with the elite guys, not playing domestique to a leading lady. Anyway, I'm sure Barendine's strong enough now not to need my help.

Last thing to say is that it's a nice feeling having finally done this. I've heard about this race and it's amazing to have covered the distance between these two capitals on a bicycle. It shows you what's possible.

Saturday, October 07, 2006


Image courtesy: www.quarlo.com

Email = R1500


N VAN DER LEEK
E-mail: nickvanderleek@gmail.com

Sir
YOURSELF / HEARTLAND PUBLISHING (PTY) LTD

We refer to the above matter and confirm that we have subsequent to our letter to Gous Attorneys, on 29/09/2006 not received a reply to our suggestions made in an effort to effect downpayment of their debt.

Heartland's attorneys were placed on terms on this day to file their plea on or before the 13th of October 2006.

If they do, this goes to Court. If they don't, we take Judgement on the 13th or earlier date and their assets attached to be sold in execution. There is no need for us to bargain with the defendant and further negotiations will not be entered into.

Yours faithfully

VERMAAK & DENNIS

J ELS

I subsequently received a call from Mr Els saying Heartland had agreed (today) to pay me R1500 immediately, and then 2 more instalments of the outstanding balance (R7500 + legal costs)

Friday, October 06, 2006

New word I learned today*:

ersatz /'e@z{tsÛ'erzA:ts/ adjective [usually before noun]
artificial, and not as good as the real thing: ersatz coffee

*(Thanks J)

In the hope of reaching the moon men fail to see the flowers that blossom at their feet - Albert Schweitzer -

In the eyes of God, all men are equally smart and equally stupid - Albert Einstein

US: Blogs hit by libel suits

People criticised in online journals fight back, experts fear the impact on free speech
Straits TimesThursday, October 5, 2006
New York --- Mr Rafe Banks, a lawyer in Georgia, took his ex-client David Milum to court when the latter wrote on his blog that Mr Banks had bribed judges on behalf of drug dealers.

Last January, Mr Milum became the first blogger to lose a libel case in the United States and was ordered to pay US$50,000 (S$79,000) in damages to Mr Banks.

The case is just an example of how blogs are increasingly being targeted by those who feel harmed by attacks on the online journals.

In the past two years, more than 50 lawsuits stemming from postings on blogs and website message boards have been filed in the US, reported USA Today.
The suits have sparked a debate over how the "blogosphere" and its impact on speech and publishing might change libel law.

Legal experts say the lawsuits are challenging a mindset that has long surrounded blogging -- that most bloggers are "judgment-proof" because they are often ordinary citizens who do not have money.
This is unlike traditional media such as newspapers, magazines and television stations.

But the lawsuits by Mr Banks and others were undertaken not with the sole purpose of claiming damages, but also to silence their critics.

"Bloggers did not think they could be subject to libel," said Mr Eric Robinson, a Media Law Resource Centre attorney. "You take what is on your mind, type it and post it."
Mr Robert Cox, founder and president of the Media Bloggers Association, which has 1,000 members, told USA Today the recent wave of lawsuits means that bloggers should learn libel law.

"It has not happened yet, but soon, there will be a blogger who is successfully sued and who loses his home," he said.

At its best, the blogosphere represents the ultimate in free speech by giving voice to millions. But the blogosphere is also the Internet's Wild West, a rapidly expanding frontier town with no sheriff.

Nearly two blogs are created every second, according to Technorati, a San Francisco company that tracks more than 53 million blogs.

Besides forming online communities in which people share ideas, news and gossip, and debate issues of the day, blogs empower character assassins and mischief makers.

"People take advantage of the anonymity to say things in public they would never say to anyone face-to-face," Mr Cox said.

He thinks the chief danger in legal disputes over what is said on the Internet is the potential chilling effect it could have on free speech.

A key principle that courts use in determining whether someone has been libelled is what damage the offending article did to that person's reputation in his or her community, USA Today reported.

Professor Susan Crawford, who specialises in media and Internet issues, said the ease with which false postings can be corrected instantly, among other things, will force judges to reconsider how to measure the damage that is done to a plaintiff's reputation.

"Libel law depends on having a reputation in a particular town that is damaged," she said.
"Do you have an online reputation? What is your community that hears about the damage to your online reputation?...But judges will be sceptical that a single, four-line (posting in a) blog has actually damaged anyone."

Mr Greg Herbert, an Orlando lawyer, disagrees.
The principles of libel law are not going to change, he said.
However, some judges "might not think a blogger is entitled to the same sort of free speech protection others are. A lot of judges still do not know what a blog is, and they think the Internet is a dark and nefarious place where all kinds of evil deeds occur."

THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN: If I had one wish

'Here’s hoping the Republicans lose the House and the Senate'
The New York Times


Published: October 4, 2006
Here’s hoping the Republicans lose the House and the Senate and realize that if they don’t start acting responsibly they’ll suffer an even worse defeat in ’08.
There are now so many books out on the Bush policy in Iraq with variations of the word “fiasco” in the title or the text that bookstores are surely going to have to be redesigned to create shelf space for this war: “Welcome to Barnes & Noble: We have fiction and nonfiction on the main floor, poetry and mystery in the corner, children’s books upstairs and the ‘Bush Fiasco’ section across the entire basement.”
And the war isn’t even over yet.

If there is a theme common to all these books it is the word “incompetence.” Reading Bob Woodward’s “State of Denial,” about the completely dysfunctional manner in which the Bush national security team has conducted the Iraq war — the president reportedly had to order Don Rumsfeld to return Condi Rice’s phone calls — leaves you disgusted.

Which brings me to this November’s elections. New York Times columnists are not allowed to endorse candidates, but I checked the rulebook the other day, and there’s no rule against rooting for a general outcome. So here is my fervent wish: For the sake of the country, I really hope the Republicans lose the House and the Senate to the Democrats — by one seat in each chamber.

It is so important that the Republicans lose, because if the Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld-Rice team can get away with the grotesque incompetence they have exhibited in Iraq — a war that was not preordained to fail, but was never given a proper chance to succeed — it makes this country look like a banana republic.

[In my opinion there is another reason the war is 'failing' - the USA needs to remain in the region over the long term. It's not really about Iraq, it's about something America and the rest of the world desperately needs on a daily basis. Can you guess what it is?]

If on the morning after the election these people come out smirking that their efforts to scare the public into voting again for their candidates worked, and therefore they can just stay the present course in Iraq — which is not working — it will send a terrible message about our democracy. It will tell us that the country is so divided, and so many districts gerrymandered in favor of Republicans, that performance does not matter any longer. Unless you are caught sending e-mail to a Congressional page soliciting sex, your seat is safe.

If we have any chance of salvaging Iraq and solving some of our real problems at home, it will only be as a result of some electoral shock treatment delivered to a Republican Party that has failed to demand even the most minimal competence and planning from its leaders.

But the reason I want the Democrats to win by only one seat in both the House and the Senate is because I want them to have such a slim margin that they will have to govern from the center — to look for bipartisan fixes to the country’s major issues, which is the only way they can be addressed.

“We’re not just in a ‘state of denial’ about Iraq,” remarked Michael Mandelbaum, the author of “The Case for Goliath.” We’re also in a state of denial about the deficit, health care, energy and Social Security.”Maybe the deficit can wait. But there is something immoral about kicking Iraq down the road for someone else to deal with it. Because the burden of Iraq falls — unfairly and harshly — on one small segment of our population: U.S. military troops and their families.

Yes, Mr. Bush’s original vision of a unified democratic Iraq was compelling and important. But it’s not happening. It’s become the “second choice” of too many Iraqis. Too many Kurds just want their own state; too many Shiites just want their own pro-Iranian zone in the south; too many Sunnis want the old order. Real democracy is too many Iraqis’ second choice. If that doesn’t change, we can’t go on having our first-choice kids dying for Iraqis’ second choice. Our top military people know things aren’t working. But they also know the Bush team won’t order a Plan B, because it would be construed as an admission of failure and used in domestic politics. So we are staying a failing course.

You know how they say that after a while people start to look like their pets? Well, we’re starting to look like Iraq — a bunch of warring political tribes incapable of acting in common for the greater good.

So here’s hoping the Republicans lose the House and the Senate and realize that if they don’t start acting responsibly they’ll suffer an even worse defeat in ’08. And here’s hoping the Democrats win by just enough to love being back in power, but by such a slim margin they know that if they don’t produce something by ’08, they’ll get defeated again.
Without restoring a legislative center that can tackle hard issues and demand sacrifices, we’re just going to keep kicking problems down the road — from Iraq to Social Security — until the road reaches a cliff and we plunge over the side.

Thursday, October 05, 2006


Image courtesy topleftpixel.com

Parachute Boy survives wild ride

Source: China Daily

Residents of typhoon-ravaged central Viet Nam are taking hope in the amazing story of a baby boy who survived when he was ripped out of his house and sent flying along with the home's roof.

Le Ngoc Dong, 13 months old, was blown over a three-storey school before landing in a pond 150 metres away, his family says. His fall was cushioned by a bed of floating plants that also kept him from sinking until his father plucked him out.

"It's a miracle," said his father, Le Van Vinh, a 35-year-old welder in the city of Danang. "My son is very lucky. My family is very lucky."

The infant has gained the nickname "Parachute Boy" after his wild ride.
"Everyone here knows his story," said a doctor in Danang's Thanh Khe Hospital, who said the boy sustained only a slight head injury. "He's very lucky he fell into the plants."
The baby was sleeping in a cradle hung from a roof beam in his small home on Sunday morning as his family and some friends sheltered from Typhoon Xangsane.

When the 117-kilometre-per-hour winds tore the roof off the house, the cradle and little Dong went flying with it. His father and two friends immediately ran out and saw the roof and the cradle fly over a nearby school as they gave chase.

A neighbour, Vo Van Hoa, told a local newspaper he also saw the strange sight of the flying roof and cradle.
"When the roof was in the air, it broke into two parts," Hoa told the paper. "One part fell down on the school and the other part flew over the school and into the pond behind it."
When Vinh and his friends caught up, they found baby Dong's cradle in a bamboo stand and the baby himself sinking slowly in the pond, slowed down by the aquatic plants known as "duckweed."

The boy retrieved, everyone returned to ride out the rest of the storm in the now-roofless house, which eventually collapsed, though no one else was injured.
Now homeless, Dong's father said the whole family still feels like celebrating.
"My house has collapsed and we're staying with relatives while I rebuild," Vinh said. "But I will hold a party to celebrate my son's miracle survival."

The death toll in Viet Nam from Typhoon Xangsane rose yesterday to 52 with another seven people missing, officials said, as the clean-up operation swung into full gear.
Local media said most of them were electrocuted or had been killed by fallen trees or collapsed houses.

Although the typhoon has moved on since slamming into central Viet Nam early on Sunday, officials said they were still worried about floods and landslides as rains remained very heavy in some areas.

Hundreds of thousands of houses were wrecked when the powerful storm struck the country. Several provinces have been flooded for four days and have no electricity.
Some 500 people were injured in the storm, according to latest reports.
Typhoon Xangsane earlier killed more than 200 people in the Philippines. At least 22 others there were still listed as missing.

DPA - Agencies

Easy big fella...easy


a lamborghini placed on china cups (see under the wheels) on bloor street east of bay in toronto.

image courtesy topleftpixel.com

I'm Home Not Yet


yet not
on the outside of it
the underside
the right side
the wrong side
never the inside
never knowing where is the glue
or a tall glass
or socks
or something warm
just comfortable
in passing
to some home away from home

in some other street
in some world beyond your street
beyond four square walls
and three square meals
and portraits by uncles and brothers
and of a dead mother

there is some appreciation
at last
of what it takes
to have a home
much less
to run one
to run one's family in one
in a box that you've made for your family

so what if you're not one
for living in a box
not even a cardboard box
that means
whereever I am
I'm home
alone

yet not
on the outside of it
the underside
the right side
the wrong side
never the inside
never knowing where is the glue
or a tall glass
or socks
or something warm
just comfortable
in passing
to some home away from home

Perhaps...
not yet
Not Yet

image courtesy topleftpixel.com

Hatemail & the October Octopus

I got these friendly, well meaning sms's today:

'Ons het gedink die GO het iets oor die Toer maar dis alles oor NICK! van wanneer af is die toer 'n race en dit net vir mans!? jammer..Hy sit die pot mis. die toer was a'n spirituele belewenes wat hy afmaak as 'n macho race. Dankie vir almal wat dit anders gesien het. Studente soos JACO sou Nick stukkend gery het as die doelwit 'n race was. jammer vir hom, hy sit die pot ver mis! my eie ervaringe was baie dieper.'

If you don't understand Afrikaans, here's a quick translation.

'We thought Nick's article would have something about the tour but it's just about NICK! He's not even such a good rider, so and so gcould have beaten him. He got things completely wrong. Thanks to everyone who saw things differently (to Nick).'

Here's some background:

My article about a cycle tour through the Free State was published in go! about a week ago. The leader of the group smsed everyone to go out and read the article. The tour was actually organised to raise money for missionary work for an Afrikaans church called the NG Church. I was invited along as a writer, and after my editor decided a 'religious' story wasn't going to work, I tried to do my time justice by trying to sell the story elsewhere. I had a huge amount of beautiful photos, but in the end, who is really interested in a bunch of Christians cycling around praising God? So I gave the story a personal edge, I did actually include a few 'asides', but Andrea Weiss edited them out: even subtle nuances like "God's own country etc."
So not sure what my friend would have wanted me to do: write about what God did? Publish a song? Write her story and include her picture perhaps? Here's more:

'Ek is van die dikwielryers soos jy seker na ons verwys...Jou taalruik se dgter ALLES!'

Translation: 'I am one of those who referred to as a rider of a thick wheeled bicycle...'

And another response when I asked this childish maniac for some ID:

'Neewat, ek het nog 'n paar jaar oor in die stad, was erg teleurgesteld! Of ontnugter!

Translation: 'No, I have a few years left in this city... ' (Make sense out of that one.)

Then Lee smsed me: 'I guess you also got the sms. Dont worry I will handle it, just don't get (angry smiley).

Then an sms to Lee, cc'ed to me: 'Lee ek wou nie skade doen nie maar oor dieselfde rede wou ek na die reunie nie 'n dvd koop nie . dit het gelyk na 'n race met al die stage wenne(rs)!'

Translation: 'Lee, I didn't want to do any damage but for the same reason I didn't buy the dvd at the reunion: it looked like a race.'

How bizarre. How bizarre how bizarre. I think I know who it is though. Ag shame.

I have to say though, before I am accused ad infinitum of being an atheist, I went on the Toer very worried about my immediate future, and while on the 'Toer' I was basically given a job (teaching at Brebner) over the phone. The interview when I got back was a mere formality. That's virtually never happened to me before. Was that you God? Could be!

As for the October Octopus:

After the bakkie started hiccuping, my computer monitor failed to fire its windows impulses. Damaged during transit perhaps? My front bicycle wheel has also reopened its scar - today's cycle was okay until we had double mechanical breakdowns. Not lekker. Was actually going quite well until that happened.

Was feeling a bit slumpy (possibly in lieu of dumb mail - hate mail is too strong a word perhaps) and then realised, it's really what yoiu focus on.
I have been very lucky (blessed) to find the very first place to rent decent and adequate. I started searching for it with less than a week to go, and in a matter of days I'm pretty happy in my new surroundings. (Will upload pics soon).

My desk was also sanded down by two brats at the stadium pool - a chore that would have taken me at least an entire day. And they did a good job too. 2xR10 coming up for them.

I've also been motivated enough to step boldly out of my paradigm a bit (I tend to get quite stingy and intractable in certain areas and habits). I decided to frame 3 of my pictures, and hang them in my place. I also decided to buy a big old plant. I think I'll get an even bigger one from Pretty Gardens tomorrow.

And I've been fortunate to be offered a job also within days of losing the other.
On top of that my father offered me a huge, interest free loan to cushion my landing, and his being away as allowed me to mobilise and settle A LOT easier than it otherwise would have been. Where's the October Octopus? Come and give me a hug. You're not that bad.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

What a day for a daydream


I didn't mean for today to turn out this way. I guess it turned out rather well, if a little weird.

I started off sick, with a sore throat, and being cold (another front has swooped by), I decided to turn my back on a couple of things (for example, a planned good morning cycle). I also ignored my phone for as long as I could, and then finally answered the damn thing, only to have a Chinese woman guffawing at me: wah yoo no ansah yoh forn?
Well, I had a coffee with same Chinese woman at 3pm and it seems my Pro Athletics career will have to be sidelined by something resembling a real job - for the time being anyway.

A Big Lug did the honors in terms of removing my security door - strictly speaking I probably should have left it there, but really only thought of that afterwards. He did a fairly horrible job installing it on its new door frame, but at least it's done, and at least it ought to keep the hoodlums hoodwinked.

The Ford acted up, howling and bellowing. Think the accelerator cable got jammed or something. The Big Lug who, helped with the door also did some mechanical service - quite a sweet fellow. He removed the screw and the car worked fine but I should probably take it to a mechanic to check it out, before the engine falls into the road.

I also called Quintiles and they said they'll be doing interviews again in January. Thanks for the breather guys.

I ran around to a number of furniture stores, finally buying a futon and a small fridge (surprising myself) at Home and Garden (what used to be the Hyperama), and then adding a small stove (surprising myself again) and some pots and pans. With no koshuis to provide meals, I'd better get cooking myself. Just need/want to buy one more thing - a blender.

Meanwhile I still have marking work to do, but at least I have completed one of 3 assignments. The second must be in next week Wednesday. The third, I have no info on. For all I know it was due today. I am on campus, and was yesterday too, but so far still don't know when and where lectures are because we have new lecturers each time and that means a new timetable (and venue). Really irritating. Like a game of cat and mouse - guess where the lecture is today. No, guess again. NO, GUESS AGAIN YOU STUPID RAT!
I managed to get Ken's number so the mystery of where classes are ought to be solved tomorrow.

I'm also meeting Arien for an interview but not quite sure when I'll fit that in. Sure I'll make a plan. Eline, the Norwegian girl I run with also emailed me. Surprise surprise.

Think I'll go cycling early tomorrow and then I really must get cracking on marking. I'm finally moved in, now to get settled and into a routine. People are supposed to be creatures of habits. I feel like I've been a creature of fragments for the last while.

Meanwhile, more good news, was able to draw OHmynews bucks direct off my Korean bank card. Nifty cash flow there.

Here's some Conrad for those who still have a lust for literature (after the spillage above):

There were moments when one's past came back to one,as it will sometimes when you have not a moment to spare to yourself;but it came in the shape of an unrestful and noisy dream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silence. And this stillness of life did not in the least resemble a peace. It was the stillness of an implacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention.

Is Africa Still a Heart Of Darkness?



The dark continent remains both heartbreakingly beautiful and filled with brutality

I have flown over Africa many times, and I am always overwhelmed by the vastness of its anonymity. Flying over the continent by night, it is dark. By day, often it is merely brown, and apparently empty - scared only by long lonely roads which seem to cut endlessly long skeletal lines across its back, like the scars on a whale. This is the one place - a great place - filled with so many situations we will never know about.

There is a reason, despite its darkness, despite its tragedy and brutality, that I, and others, love Africa. You will know what we mean when you come to Africa, and fill its heartbeat for yourself. Even from the runway, you may smell the accasia flowers, or hear the distant echoe of ancestors not 100 years old, but back to the dawn of our kind. For Africa, after all, is the only place that remains on the planet, where nature (and possibly our own nature's too) maintain the upper hand. Africa is many things, but it is not civilised.

A friend of mine from Cambridge, who was studying Zoology visited South Africa while I was in her country, and wrote to me of her disappointment. She described South Africa as filled with American accoutrements (McDonalds, KFC), and she was appalled at the proximity of the rich to the poor. Shackdwellers living close to the manicured gardens of suburbia, with their swimming pools and Mercedes Benzs.

Although I grew up in South Africa, and I ran amuck on our farm, tearing my shins against the long white needle thorns of the Accasia, I never had a sense of Africa until I went to wilder places, like Botswana. That may not be strictly true, because I think the tail end Africa's rift valley, the Drakensberg (the name means Dragon Mountains) haunted me more than any other mountains I've visited. The otter trail is one of my most vivid experiences as a child, and that was a mere week swimming across tea colored rivers pouring down through the East Coast, and pushing my young feet against the soft compost trails that wound around martian craggy cliffs. I'll never the forget the dolphins that met us, dancing in the open belly of waves, when we reached the sundried banana peel of beach at Nature's Valley.

But Botswana presents Africa at a different magnitude. It's a place where the myths of Africa truly manifest. It's a place where lions, hyena, elephants, wander through your campsite. I awoke one morning in Botswana to the thrill of a big elephant browsing mere metres from the tent. What a beautiful and wonderful sight first thing in the morning. I remember having to be cautious near the Chobe's riverbank, because of crocodiles. What a sense of life everywhere! I remember the mongooses (mongeese?), almost tame, scurrying around cheekily, pointing their intelligent eyes and twitching snouts at us before the baboons could make a nuisance of themselves.

Animals like warthogs, hippos and impala - you can stare at them all day. It's the little mongoose that makes you wonder - is it this little mammal that was running around with the dinosaurs, and managed to outwit and outlast those monsters, as the ice age engulfed first thousands of species, and then millions.

There has been some interest in Africa, of late. Movies like 'The Interpreter', and 'Rwanda', and 'The Constant Gardener'. There've been some cliched attempts to express Africa in 'Sahara' and 'Lord of War'. There are the classics, that reduce us to tears, like 'Out of Africa', or laughing hysteria like 'The Gods must be Crazy'. There are books about Africa: Bryce Courtney's The Power of One, and Mark and Dehlia Owen's international bestseller: Cry of the kalahari. All are mere reflections of a place that is too great to put into words, even if it is Hemingway's 'The Snows of Kilimanjaro'.

Tanzania is a country where the roads are giant muddy smears through impossibly dense jungle. All over concrete skeletons stand, surrounded by jungle. Someone brought a lot of money and motivation, but the jungle won.

Was it in a local hospital that I happened to notice a map of the world, emphasising malaria infestation in red, and almost the whole of Africa - a giant glob - bulged red, while small fragments of The-Rest-of-the-World had little dabs here and there.

Africa is the real world. Here there is human suffering on a scale comparable to nowhere else. Africa is reality, without spin. It's also a showcase of nature, and in rare cases (like South Africa), man has been allowed to put down a delicate footprint. Cape Town is one of the world's most magnificent cities - magnificent because of the mountains and ocean currents that roar and swirl around the city. And also magnificent because this country inspired a leader, like Nelson Mandela.

Africa is also Sudan, where Christians are crucified, and lava lakes impersonate hell.
Somalia's Mogadishu is a place filled with gangsters and warlords. These people are not pushovers - to think so is to make the mistake of 'Black Hawk Down'.
Oil rich Nigeria is one of the most corrupt cesspools on the continent. Africa's dictators make Saddam Hussein seem like a good natured kindergarten teacher. Zimbabwe's Mugabe is Africa's lastest dictatorial work-in-progress.

Books like 'The Grass is Singing', 'Cry the Beloved Country', 'Long Walk to Freedom' - all echoe the same song of Africa. And each song is different.

Meryl Streep, as Karen Blixen in 'Out of Africa', reminds us of Africa's power to penetrate and touch us deeply, however 'civilised' we might be:

If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?

This is the power of Africa. To touch each and every person. To restore the soul, but not to heal it. Perhaps Africa tears at the heart, and reminds us not only that we are alive, but that so much life (and death) exists around us.

A long time ago a man sailed up Africa's mighty Congo river. It is said that if the power of this river is harnessed, Africa will be able to supply all its electricity needs, and be able to export the surplus to Europe. **Joseph Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness', documents this long ago journey into Africa:

**Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest. The air was warm, thick, heavy, sluggish. There was no joy in the brilliance of sunshine. The long stretches of the waterway ran on, deserted, into the gloom of overshadowed distances. On silvery sandbanks hippos and alligators sunned themselves side by side. The broadening waters flowed through a mob of wooded islands; you lost your way on that river as you would in a desert, and butted all day long against shoals, trying to find the channel, till you thought yourself bewitched and cut off for ever from everything you had known once--somewhere--far away--in another existence perhaps.

Africa is all these things. It does have a great, great heart of darkness. It's shores and fields and great cliffs and powerful forests churn with Gorillas and the wild. Africa is wild and unknown, still, in a world that pretends to be safe, and controlled and civilised. Even in Africa, a young child crouches over a candle, its feathery light threading over old typed words while the African wind holds its breath for a moment, for this child, in the African night.



*The so-called Inga Project. For more information visit:http://www.eia.doe.gov/emeu/cabs/inga.html
**http://www.gutenberg.org/files/526/526.txt

House Arrest

Moving to a different home needn't break the bank

When I arrived in South Africa from overseas, I'm pretty sure the belly of the 747 had stretched a bit. After all, I was lugging around the detritus of a 4 year stint, excluding kitchen appliances and television set. Oh, and washing machine.

When you've been away for some time, or even if you're just a student moving away from the folks, a reasonably comfortable setup doesn't come cheap. After all, you'll suddenly have to provide your own:

- lounging and sleeping infrastructure
- refrigeration
- cooking
- washing (clothes and dishes)
- entertainment

If you're moving into a hostel (I prefer the afrikaans word: koshuis), you don't absolute have to provide yourself with a microwave, or a washing machine, or even a bed. If you really want to, bring a TV and a small entertainment system (DVD+MP3 player).

It's a lot harder when you move into an unfurnished place, and harder still when you do so mano e alono.I went the VERY budget route, trying to live simply but comnfortably. I suffered a few nondescript heart attacks when I went shopping for a bed and a two seater coach. The double bed futon that I had my heart set on cost a little under R3000. Okay, and then a really nice Raccoon (I think it was) couch set (although I just wanted the couch) was priced at over R6000 (in a dicounty store called King Kong). I called my brother, remembering his leather bombshell, but instead of hearing a better price he said he was lucky to get his two seater at R7000. Great!

OK, no problem - except, if that's going to be my first purchase, do I mind spending another R10 000, or R15 000, R20 000 just to be existing somewhere else geographically, and sipping cold water? R20 000 is sweat and tears! Am I really just going to wipe out a large quadrant of my bank account so I can sit and sleep .00225% more comfortably?

Well, one has to think strategically before going out. There is really a lot of amazing stuff out there, and to be honest, most of it isn't stuff you really reall need. For example, I almost bought a beautiful Black Braun refrigerator, it's front door completely transparent. A small little thing that was at least R1000 more than a bigger Samsung, and it turns out the Braun is a wine cooler - it keeps the temperature at 6 degrees Celcius, and won't stop the milk from going bad.
The guy selling me this stuff was partly helpful, and partly trying to offload slightly expensive stuff. In a way, he had a point. For example, he recommended a large but cheap refrigerator for R1700 over a more compact R1300. But when I carried the smaller fridge into my place, my shadow patted me on the back, cooing: 'Glad you didn't buy stuff that was too big for you even to carry'.

For me, consumerism is incredibly vulgar. We feel entitled to all the stuff out there, but imagine if the animals around us all lived in their own concrete houses, with bird TV, bird radio, a tumbledrier, a wormifier, ringtones and every other birdie necessity. The birds get along pretty well with just trees, blue sky and their nests. We wreck the forests just to put up a few blinds and make doors to our homes. We hollow out the Earth, turning rock into metals so we can cook on our fancy stoves. Yes, we're clever, but multiply one person's household needs over several billion. Its a LOT of unnecessary environmental predation.

Perhaps I've been influenced by the minimalism of the Orient. In the end my very small lounge became a very low lounge. The futon doubles as an almost ground level couch (and the suede is quite a nice touch). The poof didn't really work, I thought, but with the futon it does. I'm not sure why we perch ourselves so high off the ground in beds, high heeled chairs and tables. A desk is different, but beds and lounging ought to be lower. Lower means fewer (or no) legs, and that's necessarily cheaper.

In terms of cooking, you can buy a kitchenette thingy for R600 (if you want to control the heating, add another R100) which allows you to cook inside the oven, and on top, on two plates. I am a little suspicious of microwaves. I've heard warnings about 'allow your food to stand for a few seconds, because it's still cooking'. I also have a feeling microwaves kill everything that's good in food, and what's the point of that.

I'm also happy with my frige. If I'd bought a bigger fridge, I'd probably want to put more in it. And with the R400 that I've saved, I can buy a blender, to whip up bananas and oranges for healthy cool drinks.

I've also been tempted to buy a desk, because the one I have is an icky color. A friend of mine has an electric sander, and although it is quite a big job, it;s kind've fun seeing how the puke baby blue gives way, underneath, to soft veins and knots in wood. Given the hour of work already committed to that desk, I'm going to have a special feeling associated with that desk that I didn't have before. I think painting, or sanding your furniture is a bit like picking the fruit you eat in a field or an orchard, or stalking a gemsbok in the desert and remembering its spirit while you braai its meat over a fire.

In order not to break the bank remember these three golden rules:
- set a limit, and try to stick to it. - be practical (there's nothing worse than buying a fancy doodah and then finding, horrors, it doesn't actually fit in with the modesty of your surroundings)- invest in quality, but remember everything you save allows you to buy some other useful gadget, like a blender, or a wine or bookrack.

Put it on your credit card, but be firm with yourself to pay it off immediately. That way you'll probably buy what is within your means, which is what this should all be about. Let's live within our means, and encourage others to do the same.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Don't Jump


Or look down!
Just take in the view
if you can do that
without tilting below the horizon
of your dreams
or dropping into the burdens
of your nightmares
straight ahead
beyond the skyline
into the twinkling
where it's an eye for an I
and you are who I must be
and I am you
and we're together on the ledge
wishing we weren't so far apart

picture courtesy topleftpixel.com

The Ring


Is this building moving out of itself?

The Color Purple Stands Out

'Identity seems to be a function of mental and moral mobility'

Walker herself describes The Color Purple as an examination of the journey from the religious – and all those things that word represents (dead, empty, boring, hollow sentiments) – to and towards the spiritual. A spiritual life is one that is full, filled with joyful relationships and valuable, meaningful experiences. The epistolary opening immediately and directly draws the attention to the plight of man (in this case a young woman) under God. This is an effective device given our stereotypical views of God. Some would even say that God (in both the Muslim and Christian tradition) is the ultimate sexist, and here we see a pathetic young creature calling out to an unheeding, isolated ultimate Male.

The desperation of fourteen year old Celie is instantly obvious. We can also see that she articulates herself in a specific and limited way. This reinforces the perception that she exists in a brutal setup. With her mother dead, Celie is forced into an apparently incestuous relationship with her father*. The two children that arise out of this unfortunate union are removed from the household, and Celie longs to know what has become of them. Her life is quite robotic in the sense that she merely serves to satisfy the whims of men around her: she cares for her siblings, cooks and cleans and despite being ugly, performs sexual favors. (Had she been told she was pretty, ironically enough, she might have felt less like a sexual object, and more an object of desire and to be desired).
It is in this paradigm that Celie finds herself, and although she is somewhat habituated to the extremes of this existence, her letters to God indicate that she finds her circumstances unbearable (when she laughs she feels her face split), and incomprehensible.

Things go from bad to worse when she married Mr_________. It’s possibly that this man is such a horrible concept that she cannot bear to even mention his name. Perhaps by de-naming (if there is such a word) this person that has disempoered her, and dehumanised her, she can exact some kind of revenge – albeit of a much subtler nature.
Mr__________ treats her as her father did, and so she comes to understand the tenets of the ruthless patriarchal society she must live in. It is a world without identity, a world that denies her any rights, denies her to be any part of who she is, denies her the fulfillment or even the recognition of her needs, and places her in firm subordination to the needs of the men around her.**

As the wife of Mr________, Celie feels oppressed, alienated and disconnected. She functions as an object without an identity. Her letters to God are a desperate attempt to talk to SOMEONE, and in the process of reaching out, she realises the extent of her deprivations.*** By the last third of the novel Celie’s letters are to Nettie, but interestingly the novel concludes with the word: Amen – as though the initial prayers, misdirected as they perhaps were, were answered nonetheless in some mysterious way.

The catalyst for Celie’s necessary transformation from pathetic, helpless, identity-less creature is provided by beautiful, world-wise Shug Avery. Shug arrives sick, at the smallholding, and Celie is able to express her affection through caring for her. Shug’s appearance creates a large pivot around which Celie’s life gradually rotates, leaving behind a life of depredation and moving over and above her brokenness towards a life structured around an identity. Shug provides Celie with the human equivalent of a goalpost. Celie sees in Shug all that she wants, including, who she wants to be. Like Shug, she wishes to live unshackled, free to be herself, and free to engage the world and all its goodness. In fact Celie’s relationship to Shug distinctly parallels Celie’s attempt to reclaim her soul. At last this human being who has not been permitted to discover who she is, finds someone to teach her how to do just that.

The fact that Shug and Celie’s husband re-establish their earlier relationship further confirms Celie’s humiliated state. Somehow Celie’s fascination for Shug, and her impressions of the different dynamic at work with her, compensate for Celie’s feelings of loss. **** For example, Shug treats men as equals. This is an eye opener for Celie, who has thus far lived cowering and subservient to those (men) around her. For the first time she becomes aware of a new paradigm in herself and in the world. Avery awakens Celie’s sense of self, but more than that, Celie is attracted to Shug. Shug is glamorous, she sings, and her independence is attractive. Celie probably associates men with pain and vulgarity, which is why a homosexual encounter is a natural step for her, and especially so with Shug Avery (who is very sexually in tune with herself).

It is interesting to observe how important sexuality is in the process of reclaiming identity. It’s fair to suggest that sexuality (when pursued in a healthy, positive relationship) represents the first step in reclaiming first the body and insodoing achieving emotional and psychological balance. Once this is achieved the soul is free to fly.

Celie’s background makes it difficult for her to quickly extricate herself. She suggests at one point that Harpo beat Sophia, as en effective way of controlling her. At this stage Celie is still ‘unconscious’, still operating in a world that she thinks is ‘normal’.
Shug induces Celie’s enlightenment. She teaches Celie the value and power of her own body. Celie becomes aware, too, through Shug, of the vital importance of love, and loving. Even further, Shug demonstrates her sense of the divine through her inner (one could almost say ‘innate’) connectedness to herself and her sense of God/Nature. It is this connectedness that Celie learns from Shug and begins to develop in herself, turning disempowerment and a dehumanised existence into an empowered, more actualised, more fulfilled life. These spiritual developments are manifested in a number of ways. Firstly by Celie’s increasing interaction with other female characters (like Sophia and Mary Agnes) she develops a social identity.
She also starts her own business: Folkspants, in Memphis and leaves Mr_________ (who by now we know as Albert, possibly because she has the strength, occasionally, and the sense of identity – occasionally – to face him for who he is because she knows who she is).

Celie returns later (to attend a funeral) to find that Albert (who appears neat and well dressed) actually listens to her now, and she finds him reasonably good company, considering all that has happened. This development demonstrates the establishment not only of Celie’s identity in terms of herself, but also her ability to change the perceptions of others towards her, principally, Albert’s disposition.
It’s possible that through Shug, Walker presents someone who suggests to all woman: ‘Don’t give men permission to treat you badly. If you do, they will, so don’t.’
This also implies: ‘Give yourself permission to be treated better.’ It is advice Celie has learned to live by, and has allowed her to thrive.

In broader terms, the abuse of black males on the females in their care is possibly a reaction to brutal white oppression. Because of their own feelings of helplessness, these men, over generations, reacted by disempowering those weaker than themselves. Interestingly, this loss of power is mirrored by Nettie’s experiences in Africa, where tribal roots and traditions are wiped out by ‘the wheels of progress’. Imagine the Olinka’s crops (and the vitality associated with their generations-old lifestyle) being wiped out by rubber plantations. It is a vulgar thing, progress, and new roots have to be dug in fresh soil to reclaim the vitality in our lives.

In the end, what appear to be fragments and fluid ribbons of movement come together, interconnect in a patchwork of a fulfilled life for Celie.***** In the end, Celie’s prayers are answered, she reunites with her sister and children, she inherits a house – all these things as she is becoming more and more part of (as opposed to apart from) the world, and part of God. Celie’s concept of God is now not a distant, unheeding Him, but a softer, subtler, more internalised force that flows within her. Letters that started of as a sign of isolation and alienation have also returned to her now (Nettie’s letters). Ultimately these missives demonstrate how a long ago reaching out can manifest fully, and finally, in fulfillment and freedom, in connection and connectedness.


*In fact her real father was lynched by whites who were jealous about his success
**Haro, Mr_________’s son forms some kind of friendship with Celie, but it is not enough to restore her sense of womanhood.
*** P173 ‘I don’t write to God no more, I write to you’ (Nettie)
‘What happened to God? Ast Shug
Who that? I say’
**** Shug’s fluid relationships with people
*****The quilt that Celie and Sophia create is an appropriate metaphor for this interconnectedness.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Kunstler: US Pretentions

October 2, 2006
I don't think it's accurate to call it a "war" anymore. It was one briefly back in 2003, and it may become a wider one again in the region. But for now the American situation in Iraq has degenerated into a dangerous, half-assed policing operation. We're not really fighting anyone, just getting in the way of factions fighting each other. A large part of our failure in this project has been our inability to get the electricity and water running properly. Any group of Americans might be equally pissed off and crazy after three years of that.

President Bush has done a bad job of articulating the strategic purpose of our presence there. It's certainly not about "freedom." It is in human nature to prefer simple order to some abstract notion of freedom, and the Iraqis had simple order under Saddam. Anyway, the kind of trashy freedoms that Americans enjoy -- freedom to gamble in Las Vegas, freedom to buy pornography, freedom to enter into ruinous mortgage contracts -- might not seem so appealing to people in an Islamic society.

The purpose of our Iraq project was to stabilize the Middle East by creating a successful buffer state between Iran and Pakistan and the nations west of Iraq, especially Saudi Arabia. Why? To preserve the status quo in our oil deliveries from the region.

Ironically, this last item is the only thing that we have succeeded in -- so far. And one of the reasons the Democratic opposition to Bush has been so unsuccessful is precisely because for all our failure over there, America has not yet experienced a cut-off of Middle East oil -- while anti-war media stars on the Left like Al Franken and Harry Shearer still get to hop in their cars and drive wherever they like without a second thought.

The sentiment among the American public runs increasingly against our adventure in Iraq. But just as no politician has articulated our reason for being there, no one has expressed any coherent idea of what might happen if we had no military presence in the Middle East. I will try to outline a picture of this now.

Possession of the largest reserve of the world's crucial resource, oil, has no doubt driven the people of the Middle East crazy. It has fed the resurgence of a militant Islam that seeks to punish and antagonize the Judeo-Christian West (and, call it whatever else you will, the 9/11 attack was certainly an act of antagonism). It has also caused populations to swell far beyond the carrying capacity of the region, with predicable results. But with most of the Middle East nations now at or past peak oil production -- including Iran and Saudi Arabia --we can expect only more dangerous behavior.

Whatever else might motivate Iran, control of the adjoining southern Iraq oil fields centered around Basra, and the oil facilities offshore in the Persian Gulf, must be high on the list. And a US withdrawal from Iraq would certainly lead to that outcome. Next on Iran's list is the wish to drive a Shiite wedge westward across Iraq to Saudi Arabia, which contains a large Shia population of its own, conveniently occupying the Persian Gulf coastal region where most of Saudi Arabia's oil comes from. The purpose of this "Shiite wedge" would be to bring down the ruling Al Saud family and replace it with an Islamic fundamentalist government. All of these moves are predicated on Iran assuming nominal leadership among the Islamic nations of the region. And all of it would bode ill for American oil supplies.

An American withdrawal from Iraq would leave US bases marooned in the landlocked backwaters of Asia -- with outposts in Afghanistan, Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. The purpose of these bases so far has been for staging operations from Afghanistan westward toward Iran, Iraq, and the Arabian peninsula. These bases happen to be next door to China, to the east. Would these tiny bases in Asia be used to stage operations against China in some future conflict? Good luck. They would last about five minutes.

Pakistan has been off the radar screen of the American media for years. It is arguably the most dangerous state in the region. It has a thousand recent years of Muslim experience on top of perhaps 100,000 previous years of other influences. The people of Pakistan are not ethnically Arabs or Persians, yet they are even more violently anti-western. Pakistan is overpopulated to the extreme. It has no oil but owns at least twenty nuclear bombs. Very little stands between the current government of General Pervez Musharraf and either complete chaos or an Islamic fundamentalist government. If Musharraf fell, would the US try to insert itself in a meltdown of Pakistan? Good luck on that one. For the moment, only fear of a nuclear exchange with its neighbor, India, stands to modify or influence Pakistan's behavior.

Let's say the US did withdraw from Iraq. This would leave us with bases in Oman, Qatar, Kuwait, the United Arab Emirates and Turkey. These present a full frontal opposition to Iran, but would have meaning only if we went to war with that country. Such a war would probably leave the oil infrastructure of the Persian Gulf in utter ruin. Which is to say it would do nothing to advance America's strategic interest in maintaining the oil lifeline from the Middle East.

Sooner or later America will lose its ability to influence the people and events in the Middle East, and at the same time we will probably lose access to the oil of the region. Yes, oil is a "fungible" resource that finds its way through markets. But the markets themselves will be badly destabilized by the economics of post-peak production. Do not expect on-time delivery.

The US will withdraw back into the Western hemisphere. We have about 25 billion barrels of conventional crude left of our own. We currently use seven billion a year. Canada has been our largest source of oil imports. They will be left with little besides the tar sands of Alberta. Whatever else might be said of them, the tar sands will make for very expensive oil products. (Ditto the oil shale of the Rockies.) We will not be able to maintain our current living arrangements on these things, nor on coal liquefaction.

The Canadian producers have substantial contracts with China for the products of the tar sands. I have no doubt the US will invoke the Monroe Doctrine to cancel those contracts. Expect a pissed off China. The same goes for Venezuela. Anyway, that nation is way past its production peak and the oil it has left is low quality heavy crude. Mexico is on the verge of an especially steep oil production decline. The low-hanging fruit of the Western hemisphere is gone. Colombia and Ecuador are not going to save American Happy Motoring. Don't get too excited about Chevron's "Jack" discovery in the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Even at its most fantastical extrapolation, it would represent about two years of US oil consumption, and it would be expensive to a laughable extreme.

The bottom line is that the only meaningful project for the US now is to turn its attention and remaining resources to the job of preparing for civilized life without oil. This is the topic that is absent from our political discourse on all sides and at all levels. The anti-war community is itself either lost in raptures of Bush-hatred or preoccupied with fantasies for running the interstate highways on used french-fry oil. We have to talk about things beyond just running our cars by other means.

We are a profoundly unserious nation, for all our pretensions.

This article comes from: www.kunstler.com

Survivor South Africa: Panama

"I hate crabs"

Real life on a paradise island isn't as comfortable as we'd like to think. Rana has found their shelter infested with crabs. The critters climb into the bamboo rigging, and under it. Rana, having found things like jerseys full of holes, tried to raise their shelter off the ground to give them some space away from these pincer-toting pests.

Meanwhile, the blonde doc (Gareth) raised the issue of Rana not only not winning challenges, but losing and apparently 'not caring enough' about losing.
At that point there had been 9 immunity challenges, and Rana had won only 2 of them.

The 10th challenge, for immunity, involved 3 members being buried underground (basically waiting in a sealed wooden case underground). This 'coffin' had to be unlocked by a digger outside.

What beggars belief is that Rana chose one of their girls to do the digging, while Aguila chose Mzi. Guess who won? Aguila, by the largest margin yet.

So now, total challenges won:
Aguila: 8
Rana: 2

If Gareth is supposedly the brains in Rana, how could he make such a huge tactical error?

At tribal council Danielle, who on the first day said 'I don't like this game' got one more vote than big boy Zayn. In a surprise twist, Sanele, who's shoulder injury became serious enough for him to have to leave the game, gave Danielle his torch, and she was dispatched to join Aguila, much to everyone in Rana's surprise.

The game is on.


For more information on the show visit: http://www.mnet.co.za/Survivor/shows/displayShow.asp?ID=1&Type=epi&eid=

133km

Yesterday we rolled out of the KFC parking lot and into a beautiful day. Jacques Greef wasn't there, but there were a bunch of new riders. One of them was Petrus, a guy my age who won Saturday's Windmill Casino race. He broke away at 3km and held off the pack for 67km. That's not something many cyclists can get away with. He told me his average heart rate was 171.

Someone else who joined us yesterday was 18 year old Arien. I remember riding with her last year. She'd just gotten her Matric results and was going overseas. Now, almost a year later, she's back. She also won yesterday's race. She went overseas - to Holland, Belgium and Italy I think - to ride with a pro team. She trains in Johannesburg, 4-5 hours a day, and it showed: She was stronger than me on a couple of climbs yesterday. I'm doing an interview with her later this week. Should be interesting.

So here a few stats from yesterday's ride:
Total time: 4:27
Distance: 133km
Average speed: 29.6km/h (Barendine's HRM read 30.something)
Total calories: A LOT.

Gearing up for a 180km race this Saturday. After yesterday, I'm under no illusions how tough Saturday is going to be.

Race Report

I got that feeling just before 6am when it was time to get up and go do the triathlon. It was chilly and I was so cozy in bed. To get up and drive oneself to a river and throw oneself in? Crazy.

There were a whole bunch of duathletes, including Hennie and Barendine - people I train regularly with now - and some familiar faces like the herculean Vic, and Adri, who has hurt his back. His young son Jean was there. The kid has qualified for Xterra world champs in Hawaii. Not bad. Nice girlfriend too. Kids riding a wave at the moment.

The swim was tough for me because I haven't swum for about 2 months. I thought my 'swimming background' would be enough to get me through such a short swim (about 600m), but after the first 200m my arms were feeling like liquorice that has been lying in the sun for much too long.

Vic and Jean finished about 50m ahead of me, and were sprinting out of the transition when I arrived.
It took me all of 20km to catch Jean. We entered the transition virtually simultaneously, I was about 10 metres behind, and there was Vic, casually putting on his socks. So all three of us were in the transition together at that point. Then they gradually pulled away on the run.

My cycle time was not that hot: about 36 minutes for 20km. Need to bring that down to 30 minutes for less. I didn't race with TT bars, so with those attached I think I can take off at least a minute. Will need to train harder now, and get lighter and fitter, to slice away more time.

I finished 2nd (since Vic got a puncture and a ride back), in 1:07. Would like to bring the time down to about 1:00.
I think if Vic hadn't punctured he would have won, so here's my gola for the next race: Beat Vic!