(written 4 December 2008)
pants
Stupid:
This is the time of year when every theatre troupe in the land puts on a family/christmas play – I mean like how frikken obvious can you get? This is not the picture Jesus had in his mind while he was hanging on the cross, but this isn’t the time and place for tarrying on things Jesus so here’s something you didn’t know: Cinderella is Durban’s Favourite Fairy Tale. Yes! It’s true! It says so on the poster all the way down Berea Road. I didn’t know that – did you? I’m so excited that everyone else in Durban has exactly the same favourite fairy tale as me! Jeez Louise. What were they thinking? Did they do a poll? Is this the result of audience testing over the last 30 years when they got crap houses for every other fairy tale they put on so now they use cutting edge deductive reasoning and come up with the result that Cinderella must be where the hopes & dreams of Durban lie? How do you settle on that? “Durban’s Favourite Fairy Tale”? I mean isn’t it clear that it sounds needy and stupid (which is a difficult combo to pull off)? Durban’s such a small town – I’m sure one of you must know the guy who made his mark Durban with this humdinger. If you do, please tell him from me: Quit your day job and take up Buddhism.
Maybe that was a bit harsh:
You can all vote on it if you want.
Saturday night:
Rocked! Like Iggy Pop in 1965! We went to see Gonzo Republic at Kwasuka Theatre where we had !FREE BEER! and Jason Cramer playing Sufragette City and The Streets, and then we all crowded into the theatre which was like jumping into a kettle full of boiling tequila (they’ve got ceiling fan in the theatre, but they were more like a dream of watching the ceiling fans in Sam’s Bar in Casablanca than actual real ceiling fans which keep people and dogs cool). And someone had cleverly thought to create a set of 2:1 cardboard boxes and arrange them into the word GONZO in an anamorphic pixel font which looked really cool, but maybe you had to be there, and Lars & I landed up at the front jumping up and down like drunken Norwegian sailors (oh wait… one of us was a drunken Norwegian sailor), with Rike thumping her pumps, and the speakers periodically blowing our eardrums. It was like Kings of Leon played by the Chilli Peppers in a hot and infinitely dense converted church on Stamford Hill Road – no it wasn’t like that, that’s exactly what it was… And then we landed up drinking incredibly strong Madagascan Rum on Lars & Martin’s yacht in the harbour until the wind that promised to take them away to Cape Town the next day picked up. And then we went home.
Po-em – but first I must go to the loo (this is an in-the-moment poem – live it.) Now I’m back so we can get into the poem about living on the cutting edge of the moment, which pretty much goes to prove that living in the moment doesn’t produce very good poetry:
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Living in the moment’s
So very hard to do
You have to be on top of things
Even on the loo
Jesus lived the moment
And Neil Young did too
This poem took 2 minutes
Now you can do one too
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I am the millimeter of air travelling before the glove of Cassius Clay,
Tom
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