The Neelsie is the Student Centre, or the Union, or whatever you want to call it. It's a big building in the middle of Stellenbosch University campus, sort of like a mall. It has a cinema, and a laundry, and many many coffee shops and restaurants and suchlike. I pass through it on my way to work every day, and it's always buzzing with students, sitting watching sport on the bigscreen TV, or having breakfast or lunch or supper.
There's a place called Nachos that sells the "meal of the day" - one meat, two veg - for R15. You can choose the meat and the veg from their daily selections, yesterday it was chicken schnitzel, barbeque chicken, or ostrich stew. You can also have just a "meat" for R7.50, or just two veg, for R3.75 each, and so on. It's good value for money, and means people get a decentish meal instead of burgers every day.
Yesterday, I did my laundry. The drying cycle is way too short, and I had to do it twice, but it was fine. I bought the washing powder at the 7-eleven, which is open from 7am to 11pm (who knew?!), and sat drinking orange juice and eating my Nachos meal while it got done. There was a coloured family - mom in curlers, dad wearing slippers, two kids drinking their supersize Fanta Grapes - doing their laundry at the same time, an atmosphere of much joviality and cameraderia.
The Neelsie is an awesome place if you're alone. I went and sat there drinking coffee (Mocha Java, R4.50 for a large cup, at the DCM (Donuts Coffee Muffins), but I could have had Columbian (recommended) or Brazilian (not so much) too) on my first day here, and it was just... nice. You know, the buzz around you. Word on the street is, it's an awesome place if you're not alone, too. So, to summarize: the Neelsie is an awesome place, and I'm glad it's four minutes walk from my house.
I went through to Cape Town on Thursday, for the Frogfoot beach party which was good fun. Claire crashed the party to see me, which was cool. Then on Friday, she came down for a quick visit, to see my work and my house and stuff. Unfortunately, her car broke down, and we ended up waiting till 11:30 for her parents to come pick her up. I was exhausted after Thursday night, but it was nice to see her, anyway.
On Saturday, Tristan Waterkeyn came through to get my help on his Flash website. This was good, because after that, we went out to see what Stellenbosch nightlife was like. It was brilliant. All I needed was somebody to go with. We went to Bohemia, then the Mystic Boere (I swear, that's what it's called), then Fandango, then Terrace, then Rugby, then the Belgian Beer Pub, then Stones, then Sunrise, then Steers. It was great. I like it here.
Adeline came through on Sunday, in between her shifts at work. She could only stay about half an hour, but she brought me breakfast for Monday (a muffin, some yoghurt, and some orange juice), because she's fantastic.
Then I did laundry at the Neelsie.
How could I not write about Hunter S. Thompson committing suicide? (Although, of course it wasn't suicide - Courtney Love killed him.)
There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die. You should have taken care of him, Lord. But you didn't, and now you're gonna have him on your hands.
Fact is, he had to get out of here. I think he was getting the Fear. His trip was different. It was a classic affirmation of everything right and true in the national character. A gross physical salute to the fantastic possibilities of life in this country. But only for those with true grit. And he was chock full of that, man.
Jesus, bad waves of paranoia, madness, fear and loathing - intolerable vibrations in this place. Get out. The weasels were closing in. I could smell the ugly brutes. Flee. You can't stop here! This is bat country!
Well, apart from that, all I'm going to say is that this is a pretty good cover of it.
Update: Our very own Nick Ferreira wrote in to the Sunday Times to have his say.
Update: USA Today printed a correction to one of its articles:
A story Feb. 21 wrongly attributed a quote to Richard Nixon as saying Hunter S. Thompson was "that dark, venal, and incurably violent side of the American character." It was Thompson who made that remark about Nixon.Brilliant. [via]
Well, I'm here. In Stellenbosch. In the real world.
I left Grahamstown on Saturday night, after much emotional goodbye-ing. I travelled by bus, and the journey was not good. My boss picked me up on Sunday morning, and took me to the house, and I unpacked. On Monday morning, I put my button-up shirt on and came in and started work.
My thesis. Yes. I wanted to hand it in on Friday. It was due in last week anyway. Apparently that was not to happen. My supervisor says it's just not polished enough. He wants it just so. I know it's not polished enough, he's right. I've got lots of references to fix. So, I'm a bit disappointed, but what can you do? I have to work on it remotely, from Stellenbosch.
My digs in Stellenbosch is not bad. My room is huge. My one digsmate is a sterling feller from George, name of Pierre. The other is a bit of a ditzy drama student from Capetown, name of Melanie. They're cool. I live with them.
Work is going well. Better today than yesterday. Yesterday I spent all day working through Enterprise Java code, Javabeans and Servlets. I hate Javabeans and Servlets. They're klunky. But today was way fun. I had to get serial console going, and write up a HOWTO, and then I had to investigate distributed filesystems for load-balancing POP servers. That's cool. It's fun. We shall see what tomorrow holds.
Apart from work... Weeeeell. Stellenbosch doesn't hold much for me right now. I don't know a single solitary soul in the whole town. So I'm sitting at work at quarter to seven in the evening, blogging about how I'm sitting at work at quarter to seven in the evening. I'll go get supper just now, then come back and try do some thesis work. Then eventually I'll go home and, well, go to bed.
It's not as bad as I make out. I'm having fun, and it's never taken me long to make friends. We'll see. Claire and Adeline are coming to visit me this weekend! Bo.
I'm afraid I lied two paragraphs ago. I do know somebody in Stellenbosch. Here's how it goes:
In my first year at Rhodes (that's 1998!), I was in Jan Smuts residence, and there was this guy that we called Big Black Pat (because he was huge, and black, and his name was Patrick, see? Not to be confused with Scottish Pat, who was from Canada). He was insane! A real gangster, always getting into fights, there were rumour that he was into one of the sisis who cleaned the residence. The police came for him once or twice, although I don't know what about. They were so quiet about it. He lost one of his front teeth in third term, got knocked over and it came out. That sort of thing. He wasn't a bad guy, you could always rely on him to beat up people who were threatening you, as well as anybody else who happened to be around. He didn't make it to second year, of course. He was gone the next year.
And then the next thing you know... I went across the road for a burger last night for supper. I ordered the "Monster Burger" and a beer. (You know what? I don't think there was real monster in that burger. It tasted just like beef.) And my waiter is this big black guy, with a missing front tooth, called Patrick. I thought it was him when I saw him through the office window, but the name-tag confirmed it. He recognised me too, and wanted to know why I hadn't gotten bigger since he'd last seen me.
Small world.
I shall now go try out somewhere else for supper. Wish me luck.
IRC can be funny:
11:22 <jaybeepee> Vhata: Communications division is looking for some code
from you - something to do with Give 5 campaign (apparently
you did it last year) - any idea?
11:27 <Vhata> jaybeepee: who is asking?
11:27 <Vhata> jaybeepee: it's all on lizard, Alpha1 knows how to get to it?
11:32 <Alpha1> oh right
11:32 <Alpha1> ja I'm supposed to do the give 5 site soon
11:33 <jaybeepee> Vhata: Sue is asking - will pass on the message
11:40 -+- Alpha1 gets a phonecall from sue
11:41 <Alpha1> "the code is on lizard"
Cory Doctorow, author, blogger on one of my favourite blogs, and activist at the EFF (wikipedia article about him) has a new story up. He says:
Last spring, in the wake of Ray Bradbury pitching a tantrum over Michael Moore appropriating the title of Fahrenheit 451 to make Fahrenheit 9/11, I conceived of a plan to write a series of stories with the same titles as famous sf shorts, which would pick apart the totalitarian assumptions underpinning some of sf's classic narratives.
Today, Infinite Matrix magazine published the latest of these, a story called "I, Robot," which describes the police state that would have to obtain if you were going to have a world where there was only one kind of robot allowed and only one company was allowed to make it
I liked it. It turns one of the most sacred science fiction ideas (Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics) into an analogy for DRM, one of the big bogeys of the tech world. It's good. Read it here.
While we're talking about free fiction and the three laws, I recently re-read the amazing Metamorphosis of Prime-Intellect. Go and read it NOW.
Next up in today's free fiction line-up. My two most favouritest web authors have recently started projects:
Pat Spacek was the writer for my favourite (seriously, I know this is the third time I've used the word, but they really are my bestest) web cartoon ever, The Parking Lot is Full. After it died, he started a new project, Neolithic Casserole. Unfortunately, things didn't pan out, as he explained in a very well thought out post on the neocass mailing list. However, he has moved on to two new blogs, which he explains in one of the blogs. He really is an excellent writer. Go and read his blogs:
The Shaved Ape Chronicles, his personal blog.
Fighting the Influence, a blog he writes from the viewpoint of a... slightly different person.
Finally, Joey Comeau is an amazing writer. He writes for the awesome webcomic A Softer World, and the brilliant Overqualified chronicles (in which he has just taken to writing to the RIAA and Google themselves!) and he has recently started publishing chapter by chapter of his new novella, Lockpick Pornography. In his words:
Here is what's happening. One, I am worried that I will be kicked out of school because I am $1400 short of my tuition. Talking to student loan clerks is like talking to a brick wall. I am storing my rage in my teeth.
Two, I've started writing a novel that is fucked up. It is called "Lockpick Pornography" and it is political and dirty and ranty and queer and it has crime and sex and good intentions. If you like A Softer World and/or Overqualified, I think you will enjoy it. I get emails all the time from you guys asking if I've written a book, or have considered writing one.
So this is what I'm going to do: I'm going to put the first chapter online for you to read, and to show your friends. It's dirty and it has some big words, but that's why you come here, for the intellectually justified filth. The first chapter goes up for free, and then I start taking donations! When I get a couple hundred dollars, I put up chapter two for everyone to see. When I get a couple hundred more, I put up chapter three. In this way I hope to not get kicked out of school while promoting the independent publishing options afforded by the internet!
I am going to do this for seven chapters, which will stand alone as a novella and offer you satisfaction while enabling me to expand beyond that into a full length novel and still find a publisher even though it was online!
Think of it as being a patron of the arts! I do the free webcomic A Softer World, and the free humor site Overqualified, and this novel would appear online for anyone who wanted to look. It's like funding public art.
Go and read them. Give Joey money if you can. I would. If I could.
You will choose to stay at home, brother. For you will be able to do everything you need from your potato couch. You will be able to don your virtual helmet and experience the Revolution on 360 degree all-round CGI. You may choose to view as manga, or Hanna-Barbera, as the Hair-Bear bunch.
Because the Revolution will be televised.
The Revolution will be brought to you by Apple Mac or PC World, with Nokia and Motorolla providing SMS updates. The Revolution will show pictures of hopefuls queueing overnight for the latest audition.
The Revolution will be sponsored by Gap, the Khaki-and-Camel collection, and it will star me, as you. You will play yourself, or Brad Pitt playing you. Or you, playing Brad Pitt, playing you.
The Revolution will be smoked, snorted, injected, chased or vapourised. It will be recording on mini-TV and kept in the pocket. The Revolution will be digitised, then transferred to all available formats. It will appear on your favourite CD as the bonus track. You will be able to procure it cheap on VHS, or pay a little bit more for the extra footage on DVD. Betamax will be available for the old-school, who are more gunshoe than gumshoe, with their shell-toes and grips. The Revolution will shoot from the hip.
The Revolution will be scratched, spun back and sampled as a loop. It will appear as the red button on your remote control. The Revolution will operate a job-share, or flexi-time option, so you can have it at your leisure.
Because the Revolution will be digitised.
The Revolution will be permed, highlighted and set. It will have its own award ceremony, with the biggest winners unable to attend except for via live satelite link, because of their current Revolutionary commitments. The Revolution will be a teacup in a storm, or a bottle in a message, or a door to a key. The Revolution will always come with fries.
Because the Revolution will be televised.
The Revolution will be heard, my brothers, because it will use viagra, camagra, oral tightening, hardening of the arteries, in order to fit inside Ronald's Happy Meal box as the free gift. The Revolution will have a new twist, sponsored by Levi, with a sticker campaign written in an eligible graffiti-style font.
Because the Revolution will be advertised.
And pay-per-view will have a whole new meaning, brothers. The Revolution will be available for Gameboy this fall, and X Box and Gamecube today. The Revolution will be televised, will be televised, will be televised, brothers.
Because the Revolution is alive.
More addictive than crack cocaine, more uplifting than crystal meth, more repetitive than a man on marijuana, weirder than an acid trip.
I don't know what it is about memes. Why do geeks love them? Anyway, I've just discovered a meme that we at Rhodes came a little late to. Apparently there's a song called "Dragostea Din Tei" by a band called O-Zone (although it's also done by Haiiduci?). The lyrics are here, in Romanian, with English translations. Note with joy the translation of the chorus.
The thing is. The thing is. Some lad out there, vaguely reminiscent of Ghyslain[1], recorded himself singing along to the song. You can have a looksee here, and I've got a copy up here. Russell and I have not been able to stop listening to/watching the damn thing.
[1] Ghyslain is a 15 year old boy from Quebec who became famous as the Starwars Kid after a video he made in his school basement. You can have a look at the video, and at the fifteen remixes that meme-obsessed geeks around the world made, here. The person originally responsible for the propagation of the meme is here. Ghyslain is identified here. He appears in Tony Hawk 3 here. Thousands of people petition to have him appear in Star Wars 3 here. And everybody apologises and raises over US$3000 to buy an iPod for Ghyslain here.
We have seen an increase in the number of roving gangs of teenage girls who deliver gifts of cookies to people's houses. This menace can not be stressed too forcefully. Thankfully, these two insipid little blighters got their just desserts [2]. Spurning the opportunity to attend a dance, they chose to spend their night baking cookies for unsuspecting neighbours. Thankfully, one of the neighbours managed to successfully sue them for $900 in medical fees after they frightened her by banging on her door to give her the cookies.
Secondly, we have uncovered evidence of an alien invasion. Maintain constant vigilance.
Thirdly, the problem of dangling prepositions is growing, too. See how the title of this blog entry is NOT "Things to beware of"? This is because a preposition at the end of a sentence is something up with which I will not put.
Update [1] Be aloof. We have enough lerts now.
Update [2] I mis-spelled this - it's "just deserts", from the same root as "deserve". However, in this context, I think "desserts" works rather well.
Update: It seems cats are evil, too.
I love animals: I'm always talking about animals, I love 'em. But the thing is that, you know, whenever you see animals on the telly, it's always the show-off animals. Yeah? It's always the leopards and panthers and crocodiles. Lions milling about, going "Oh, I'm very good, I'm on everything", and it really makes me annoyed, you know? Because what about the English animals, you know? The British mammals, yeah? Hah, what about the muskrat, or the tiny northern root-vole, with his little banjo and hat made of elastic bands, yeah? Who's representing them, eh? No-one, that's who.
I was furious! I went round all the heavily wooded regions in England. I just went round with this small pamphlet, recruiting like a huge slave rebellion. I was like Spartacus. I was there, going, "Okay, we're gonna go to Africa! We're gonna kick their arses", and I got a huge sort of tiny little mammal slave rebellion. They were all wearing tunics, we were there rummaging about in Greece... Well, Kent. And I said, "Come on, we're gonna go over there, and we're gonna show 'em. I'm sick of the lions, I'm sick of the crocodiles! You must be too. Come on, now!"
So I got them all in a big rusty bomber, and we flew over to Africa. But we needed a strategy. We couldn't just go over there, you know, go "COME ON!", and give them some aggro. We needed a strategy. So what we did was, um, we built a huge wooden shrew, like the wooden horse of Troy, but with just a little bit more stoat in it, with tiny little stoat's arms holding the spear, and what we did, was we lined it - to make it double dangerous - we lined it all with kitkat wrappers.
Ah, it was fantastic, it was like a glossy bitch. It was so bright, it was a metallic wonder. Small boys would rather eat a pair of scissors than go near the glossy bitch. "Don't make me go near it, I'll eat another pair of scissors. I can't look at it, it's doin' me pupils in!" Ah, it was fantastic, it was very warlike, the body was very warlike. But the eyes? They were telling a different story. Hardly warlike: eyes, like the eyes of an old russian lady, who had seen too much. An old russian lady, with her arm caught in a loom, and big sailors would walk past and go "Hello!" and she'd go "No, not hello. My arm - it's in a loom." And they'd go, "Yes, hello!", and she'd go, "No, not hello. It's gone maroon. My arm, it is in a loom." And they'd go "Yes, hello!", and she'd go "No, not hello -", and in the end she'd have to pick up the two-ton loom, and walk them, follow them home, and knock on their front window, and they'd be going "Oh, you're scaring me a little bit now". That's what the eyes were like: dangerous, but beautiful at the same time.
And what we did, was we cut two circles out of the base of the shrew, so that Martin Pinemarten could stick his little stoaty, weaselly legs through, and wheel us around - it was fantastic. And there weren't any windows, so we were crashing into antique shops, knocking over stationary yachts. We were having a nightmare!
And eventually we found the plains, and we waited till dusk - waited till it got a little bit dark - and we looked through a crack in the shrew, and they were all out there, lions milling about, and we thought, "Yeah, we're going to get you, you freak nuts."
So, what we did, was, we waited till it was dark, and we went out, and we went "CHAAAARGE!" and we ran at them, and when we got out there, we couldn't believe it, they were HUGE! Lions the size of transit vans, we couldn't... we didn't know what was happening! Leopards like marquees, "Oh, he's like a Victorian tennis house, look at the size of him!" Martin the pine marten was in a right state, he said, "No, I'm not going out there again, they were bloody huge, you didn't say anything about them going to be that huge!" Martin, what's happening to your voice? "I don't know, but I'm a bit scared."
So we all ran back into the shrew, we were like, "Oh, no, what are we going to do?", and we had to come up with Plan B. Luckily, Morris, the wood-pigeon, went, "I've got an idea". Now, he'd brought some Japanese Tourist costumes along, and we popped them on, went out there, and we took photos of them all. But we used them cameras that fly water! Oh yeah! Some of the zebras were soaked, cheetahs wringing out their gussets. We went over there and we kicked their arses.
Best weekend I've ever had.