STONE COLD HAVEN

Wonders never cease to amaze.

I guess in business this would be lauded as innovation.

But hey! This NGO charity thing seems to be the new thing on the block. Let’s all get out there and help the poor helpless Africans…

Maybe I’m just getting too old.

Train journeys can be as much of a pain as they are comical. There are indeed some strange characters who frequent this mode of transport, and perhaps I should include myself in this category. My M.O is straight forward – get comfortable, hook on the IPOD and resurface when the announcement for my station blasts over the tanoi. I don’t blame anyone for considering this anti-social, but my defence is that it’s probably the most normal thing to do considering I didn’t get on a train to meet people and chin wag the way to my destination.

Sometimes you just want some quiet and some private head space to contemplate stuff. Usually, it’s taxi drivers who can’t get the concept of leaving a passenger alone wanting to eagerly chat to you about everything from the weather to the problems that immigrants are bringing to the beloved British isles. Every once in a while though, you’re forced to become a third party to a telephone conversation on the train that let’s face it, you really don’t want to be part of.

I took my seat across the table from a “quietish” young woman who was busy reading some magazine or something. Even when the conductor approached us for tickets, she was very soft spoken when responding and asking about something or the other. The hits started rolling when her phone violently vibrated on the table and started ringing.

I don’t know what it was that ticked me off instantly. Maybe it was the fact that she left it there wringing for what seemed to be ages so that we could hear the hideous song that was her ring tone, or the fact that it was so loud, I’m sure you could hear it from outside even if the diesel powered train swept past you at 120 miles an hour.

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If there’s one thing I envy about living back home, it’s the options available to any working family to get an affordable house help or maid, more popularly known as a mboch. Having a live in house help out here could easily cost you the better part of your salary after tax – and for most of us, we have to make do with tackling those oh so unwanted chores , come rain shine or snow.

You see, some of the most drama generating issues for any couple are the mundane things like who does what in the house from washing the toilets and changing diapers, to mowing the lawn and scrubbing the pots and pans. They say it’s the stuff relationships are made of, but in the same token, it’s most definitely the stuff drama is made of. Of course, it doesn’t help that you’re both probably busting a gut at work to make ends meet, and there’s a small matter of kids who might not see things as you see them when it comes to being reasonable.

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I’ve become very skilled at hitting the mute button on the remote to stop my blood pressure from rising because of sucker TV commercials. In fact, I try to break my own record of how fast I can zap the bastards off. The ones that get me the most are those that try to shop you secured loans and always start with stupid questions like “Are you a home owner? Do you have debts you want to consolidate?…” Or the ambulance chasing ones from Accident Direct or Injury lawyers for you or something like that that start with “Have you been injured at work, on the road or whilst walking in town??? We could help you make a claim!” You know them type of adverts I’m talking about…LOL!

So last week, my wife and I were approaching a roundabout and we had to slow down. My wife was driving and I was fiddling with the car Stereo trying to locate one of my favourite songs by Mwamburi – Stella mpenzi wangu (I just love the part he brings his whole clan to the airport to meet Stella his long lost love flying in from Japan and she chucks out of the plane holding a baby with a short Japanese fella following her behind…).

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I’ve always believed in the notion of never under-estimating the power of stupid people in large numbers. Contrary to what conventional wisdom will suggest, a collection of stupid folks can unleash the most unpredictable results, but every once in a while, there are cases that defy the very boundearies that we are prepared to tolerate.

Take the story of this group of Chinese folks.

About 20 folks were conned into believing they were now citizens of the UK with a lavish ceremony, national anthem, loyalty pledge, and a fake Home Secretary to boot. How is it possible that folks can be stupid enough to pay a premium of £20,000 for the privlige of being a subject of Aunt Liz? Forget I asked…..Maybe there’s some really stupid folks out there.

But you’ve got to admire the entreprenurial spirit of the conman who literally staged a believable citizenship ceremony right outside the Palace of Westminster – and even conned actors to be fake immigration officials, a fake government minister and fake security guards…You’ve got to love it.
Just for the sheer audacity of this stunt, it was a shame that the conman didn’t get away with it. and just for the sheer stupidity of these 20 Chinese folks, they should have lost all their money.

Every once in a while, folks get to surprise you with their determination to shove a middle finger in the direction of those who can’t deal with it.

If you ever doubted the criminal justice system can be cynical, then meet 48 year old Carolyn Cartwright – who believes it’s her God given right to enjoy the fruits of the loin any which way she chooses to express herself. But clearly her neighbours don’t think so and are equally determined that her extremely loud sex sessions won’t ruin their lives.

They’ve already slapped an anti-social behaviour order on her for the screaming and headboard banging, and as she’s realized, break the law 3 times, and you get straight remand without bail to await your jury trial.

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It seems like ages since I was last blogging….but just to assure a few folks who asked, my hiatus was perfectly legal and I haven’t been a guest of Her Majesty the queen for a small misdemeanour or something like that.

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Call me paranoid, call me sceptical, call me a conspiracy theorist – but I think I’ve just been tagged by big brother with the complicity of Google and the staff at blogger.

This is how I know:

1. I write a lengthy perspective article on a current issue about civil rights that is quite controversial and involves outright violation of an individual’s civil liberties.
2. I publish the post and blogger confirms that its published.
3. I view the post and Internet Explorer tells me that it’s not possible to open my blog and that the operation has been aborted.
4. My blog is live because I can test all the other permanent links from other posts and I can view them this way
5. I publish a test post (without any controversy or drama) and it publishes and views fine
6. I edit my hot post and remove certain keywords that are being watched – usually for the sake of national security) and republish the post, and I get the same blog aborted message.
7. I publish this post

Lakini some people jomoko yawa….

How did we get to the stage of stopping bloggers live from publishing controversial material that IS a matter of civil liberties – and because they’re potentially embarrassing? And the damn frigging news is in the public domain….

SHAME ON YOU! LOL!