Hey future self…

You’re probably feeding some sort of Apple robot now and charging the Googley-Chip planted in your right ear but hopefully you have a second of your busy media conglomerate schedule to hear you from twenty years back. Anyway, I hope you can open some sort of PC-techno folder and come across this document with inferior text and out-of-date language and show the world how you dabbled in Microsoft Word and XP.

“Mom, you’re cray!” our children will say.

Is that food in pill form? Really!? Don’t you miss the grease drenched everything with a side of cholesterol? Don’t you miss the cereal that tastes like cardboard box and sawdust? Do you remember in 2012 when everyone was telling the world to embrace vegetables and campaign against the good ol’ juicy steak? Oh, you don’t eat meat anymore? You can’t braai because it’s too bad for the world? I’m glad I’m feasting in as much steak now. I’m hopefully living in a time where meat is sort of alright whilst you’re probably sipping chilled liquidized beetroot juice.

What’s for dessert?

Anyway, I’m just here to remind you what the world is like right about now; a reminder that you lived through this and somehow managed to fight off 2012’s imploding idiocy. First of all, congratulations – you didn’t buy too many skinny jeans and haven’t purchased those glasses everyone seems to be wearing even though their eyesight seems perfect. Also, you eat meat and are confused with labels that read: ‘Soya-induced gluten and low-based wheat meal’.
You seem to have ignored Bieber Fever and the recent monopoly of clean-cut boy bands. I hope music there is a little less plastic and a little more…
Its robot sounds, isn’t it?

Well, I guess you remember that it started around this time. The wuup-wuuuup-wuuuup of the social scene where boys with orange girlfriends fist-pumped their way to early unwanted pregnancy and mistaken tramp stamps. I would love to know if the ‘refinement’ of The Kardashians, the Jersey Folk and Dallas Divas and Daughters have died down? If those obese American women from the South still put glitter on two-year-olds for a plastic crown?
Perhaps the idealist pursuit of ‘Kardashian’ fame has died. Perhaps Brad and Ange have got too old for the spotlight and Suri Cruise has become as wild as Lindsay Lohan was and marketing herself on the new Hollywood scene where there are new blockbusters made for every single day of the year. Perhaps you remember those TV sets, the flat screen in the lounge?

Perhaps the fraud, the feigned ‘democracy’ that I have now, has been rectified with a sudden realization that the world can no longer shoot itself in its own foot. That our president doesn’t really need a speeding jet and high salary; that his iPad is not a necessity for a once-off national address. The petrol price is up again so I hope you guys have found some sort of solution? Fish Oil? Baby Oil? Olive Oil? They’re probably going to make us pay for the roads now, too and are planning to make the media a little bit like puppets that overlook the closet criminals with the shiny, shiny badges and important titles.

Oh, did the kids in Limpopo get their textbooks by now?

How are you feeling?
They say those inconsistent traffic robots will be outdated.
They say you won’t need to carry a driver’s license.
They say the world will be fighting for water.
They say the word ‘jungle’ will confuse a lot of people
No more tobacco
No more rhinos
A steady 2 degree climb
Planes that can fly by themselves
A trans-global railway
A possible Bionic Olympic Games?
Wearing oxygen masks to deal with the outdoors?

Anyway, despite the grime of the future and the grime of the now, I just need you to follow in the wise words of an animated fish: Just keep swimming. In the height of populist mania, media frenzy and everyone telling you what to eat, read, watch and listen to, be you. In the hype of everything in the future changing (and it will), may you remain constant and cool-headed. Let’s be happy in the fact that once upon a time, we drew pictures with crayons and ate solids.

Best wishes to you.

Be cool, bro and please tell your kids to love what they have before the world we know (and don’t) becomes a memory.

PS: Have the Chinese taken over?


Its not Sinatra…Elders and Teens react to…

“It’s not music.”
“I’ve never heard songs like that before”
“Are you kidding me!?”

Its what elders say about the world that is today, viral videos, Skrillex and Jersey Shore.
I mean can you imagine playing ‘Gangnam Style’ or a Charlie The Unicorn episode?
Also, we get a glimpse into how weird and wonderful 2012 culture is.
There’s some videos on YouTube that test the reactions of elders and kids to what’s viral on the interweb and some of their reactions are priceless.

Elders react to Skrillex:

Elders react to Jersey Shore:

Teens react to ‘Overly Attached Girlfriend’

Teens react to Toddlers and Tiaras

Rocking The Daisies

Its official: I’m Rocking The Daisies! After months of deliberation, planning with friends and gathering some funds (emphasis on some) I have booked my flight to Slaapstad and bought my Daisy tickets (go to http://rockingthedaisies.com/tickets/ to get yours).


And with my fellow Cape Town mates, old and present Rhodes students, the weekend is looking like one that will be written in the ol’ memory book. Its also a time for me to dust off some end of year work routine to embrace Cloof Wine Estate and the sexiness of the eco-friendly festival. Green is so in right now.

Magaliesburg’s ‘Sowing The Seeds’, the immense prelude that took place back in February, was just a little bite of the festival flavour, laid-back atmosphere and music that brings a crowd of everyone together. Hippies, tank tops, sunshine, colour, smoking food, foaming beer and the rough and tough of camping out. Meeting the weird, the wonderful and immersing oneself in the Summer Paradise – a little look into what Daisies is going to be like.

Foot-stomping, bouncing, closed eyes and the seduction of class acts. The line-up caters for everyone.

Here are my favourites:


Saturday @ 11:20 pm

The Brit boys are the main feature of the weekend’s festivities. They’ve been a big deal since 2005 and have been instrumental in defying other indie rock bands. They’re a little bit of alternative cool and with some old and new tracks, crowds will go insane.


Saturday @ 7:25 pm


Friday @ 11:00 pm


Saturday @ 6:05 pm

This was Jeremy at last year’s Rocking The Daisies:


Saturday @ 10:05 pm

December Streets

Friday @ 8:35 pm

Also looking forward to Beast, Black Handed Kites and Shortstraw on the Mainstage.

Electro Stage: Pascal and Pearce, Toby2Shoes, GoldFish

Nu World Beat: Closet Snare, Rumspringer





Black and lights.

The man who sells pink covers,

a fake snake

The Star’s flashy headlines

The Sun’s gripping story

A tokoloshe stole my wife!

The posters of ‘buy this!’ and a horrible life


Up here, the air is rampant with coal

Cars choking
People sweeping

Druggies coughing

Heiresses laughing

The towers touch the tarnished heavens

The champagne in fenced-off castles

The glitz of Mercs

The taxi, the passing taxi, the falling apart taxi

Those ANC shirts

The march on, marching on to


The statues that tell another story



Time that is not now

Here, time is nothing


The cash gushes in floods

Legalised stock, foreigner counterfeits

The pidgeons fat

The beggar thin

The land of milk, honey and sin

The stay-at-home something with the Gucci

The Chinas with their gelled up hair, their unbridled youth

The taverns late at night

brewed in foam and someone hitting you



Across the face

As if you feel anything


Be cold


The hoot, the scoot, the metro loot

Bra, can I get away with a fifty?

The hens in bakkies

The pimp with the wheels

The lipstick in the corner

Get your wife some roses


The downside cafes

Filled with people who don’t need glasses

The seamless coffee, the rock that blares

The hip hop flair

The promise of savouring


Until your heart caves in


Sky-scraping hopes

Bright-lit dreams


Diamonds everywhere

Urban refinement

Afrika se Groot appel

Ferris-wheel charm

Wear my tux


The abandoned heaps

Of sand

The abandoned ideas

Of hope

The hi-jack

Guns up

The idea that we’ll never elope

Tin roofs hit by sunset rays
Cardboard signs that says


You’re sweet, Jozi

You sell yourself

On Bree Street’s buzz

You make promises

Give yourself

And leave

Oh Cindarella





A smash of the glass

The boon of the lake

The trivial parks that greet autumn

The prawns

The little children pointing at the giraffe

Suburbs change to suburbs and back


We come back

The late nights

The drag on the dance floor

5c pieces fall into the man

Fall out of hungry heads

The shine

The gleam


It hurts my eyes

It warms my heart