As a neophyte stoic I fantasize about my own death quite regularly. Wait… does that sound morbid? I suppose it could also come across as suicidal. Really, I am none of those things, in fact, other than I think life is largely pointless I am quite a cheerful mf’er. I guess I just appreciate that the end point of life is death and I’d like my death to be done right. If possible. I mean I realize we often don’t get a say in these things. That’s why its important to prep (and consider) these things waaay in advance.


In any event. THIS… has now been added to list of possible end-game scenarios. Ha ha.

Burn, burn

Disclaimer. Contains a picture that some people might find disturbing. Forewarned is forearmed!

One of my workers comes into the sales office this morning. I’m sitting with my feet up staring into space waiting for the caffeine to start infusing itself into my system and halfheartedly stuffing a second ‘Vetkoek*’ into my mouth. He has this dirty bandage on his wrist. It briefly reminds me of a dressing one might find in a zombie apocalypse movie. I give him an arched eyebrow. ‘Bra Jo’ he says in greeting. He seems quite cheerful. ‘I wanted to ask you, do you think I need to go to the hospital?’

*a Vetkoek… is a South Africa institution. Its… well… its basically a big lump of dough that has been fried in oil (of questionable hygienic quality with a carcinogenic factor of 10x) in our case bought from a vendor at the side of the road. These are probably twice the size of a krispy kreme doughnut…  and cost a whopping R2 each. Which at the current exchange rate is about $0.13 per serving of happiness. Friday is usually Vetkoek-friday and I sponsor breakfast for everyone…

I take another sip of coffee. ‘Why whats wrong with you I say?’ He unfurls the bandage and I suck air through clenched teeth. Ahhhh…

Continue reading “Burn, burn”

Unintended consequences

The air in a man’s lungs contains 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 atoms, so that sooner or later every one of us breathes an atom that has been breathed before by anyone you can think of who has ever lived – Michelangelo or George Washington or Moses.

– Jacob Bronowski


I mostly dislike this quote. And while I appreciate that it is likely true and that this should, I suppose, fill me with a sense of wonder and connected-ness to all of humanity, it also means I’m breathing in the same atoms that have traveled the pulmonary veins and arteries of Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin and Mao Zedong, to name just a few of the previous century’s more charming individuals. This obviously fills me with less awe and instills in me instead the deep desire to take ammonia hydroxide and a wire brush to the surface area of my alveoli. Which was likely not the intention of the speaker.

Also, Michelangelo, George Washington and Moses are your go-to paragons of the human race? I mean I realize this is quite a subjective thing and that everyone of us has their own weightings they use to ascribe value…  but Moses? The man, wondered round a desert for 40 years. A relatively small desert at that. Color me generally unimpressed.

Finally shouldn’t it be ‘in a persons’ lungs (as opposed to a mans). I like quotes to include the lesser and more maligned gender too. I mean if your point is inclusivity.  Although maybe girls use less oxygen. And therefore are less likely to have inhaled tainted atoms.

This kinda makes sense to me.



Let me fix this for you CBSNews. Aaron Tucker skips job interview, takes shirt off his back to save car crash victim. 

Thats better.

I resist the urge to go off the deep end about this since I’ve already done my TL;DR post for the day. So let me just say, ‘Kudos to you Mr. Tucker’.

Can’t keep a (good) wyrm down


I don’t post a lot of cutesy feel good stuff… probably because it messes with the finely crafted misanthropic realm I prefer to dwell in, bereft of sunlight and optimism. (I should probably work on that at some point)

To be fair this panel is a little light on backstory. How exactly did this dragon loose his wings… was it putting some poor hapless village to the torch, or something more benign… like hotdogging through a canyon? Backstory matters to me, since it directly affects my ability to deploy empathy (like a caltrop)… it also gives me a chance to minimize my tabs and appear interested.

Years of D&D have to taught me one thing. Well… actually two things. The air in an enclosed spaced filled with boys rolling dice for twelve hours can get fairly rank. And Smaug getting taken out by a single black arrow is a little far fetched. #justsaying JRR Tolkien.

Good deeds rarely result in hotdogs

I gave a hitchhiker a lift this morning. A veritably rare occurrence. I was feeling magnanimous or maybe I mean altruistic. I’m not entirely sure what the difference is (and I’m too lazy to look it up). To be completely fair there were mitigating circumstances that allayed my usual reticence to convey these vagabonds of the freeway from point A to B…


… like my Glock*. And the fact that he looked old and wizened and didn’t (really) look like someone likely to be wearing my head as a hat (while sating his thirst with my internal lubricants) towards the midpoint of our journey.

*although it would have upset to me to have to paint the inside of my Jeep with the cerebral cortex of someone I’d just met (even if they were trying to stab me with a rusty screw-driver)

Our trip was eerily silent. Him not being able to speak English and my conversant Zulu (in terms of a franca lingua I mean, I don’t want to be presumptuous about his ethnicity) being limited to cuss words, insults and being able to tell someone to get down on the ground and put their hands on their head (while useful chasing cattle rustlers through the veld at 3am in the morning it is less useful in a more civil context)

In Fanagalo we managed (more-or-less) to determine an end point for him which was sorta on my way and once we’d reached it he simply disembarked, inclined his head slightly towards me and was on his way. I immediately felt a surge of Light-side points flowing into my character sheet. (god this feels so weird)


Of course because of my ‘good’ deed the rest of my day turned into a vicious clusterfuck of malaise and discombobulation and by three pee em my total contribution towards humanity was well back into negative figures. (which to be completely honest is a much more comfortable environment in which to dwell)

Which I realise is a bit defeatist. But being German you come to appreciate that long campaigns mostly end in defeat. Being Catholic, you appreciate that after defeat comes hell. Its one of those things. You are also precluded from dating Jewish girls. Ever.



I thought this was quite good and perhaps somewhat salient in today’s climate of perceiving enemies where there are actually none.