Thursday, 7 August 2008

Dancing, Music, and Other Concerns

Mood: eclectic
[Toot!] Index: 0.2
Communism Bit: Off
Location: Nakulabye

Eh, I want to dance. I don't really dance, me. I'm nimble on my feet, but I reserve that for other cases, not dancing. But right now, I crave the sensation of just rocking slowly on my feet, next to a girl. A drink in the hand that presses her against me, dangerous promises dripping off my lips in the heat of the moment, binding suicidal oaths, such as promises of undying love. I want that. I want the other hand to run up her neck as we swap positions and now I see what she was seeing before we twirled. Maybe now it's her turn to look at the fire and see the flames hopping about, and now my turn to face the table and see the perspiring bottle of wine, and feel her glass touch back as she gathers me closer to her in this dance. And I don't know what expression she has on her face. As if that matters. Eh, I want to dance. You hear me? :o(
All this John Mayer, Michael Bublé, George Benson, Ringo Madlingozi, all this Tuku Music, all this teary-eyed jazz and guitarwork, it is for sharing. My headphones are a blasphemy. It is for playing from concealed speakers, at a sweet low volume that is loud when two people in love get in each other's hold and dance. None of that sweaty stuff. I was always the slow-rocking type. Nice and slow. Mostly. ;o) I want to dance; God knows I want to dance.

Hello, readers. I'm the 27th Comrade. Thank you for joining us for this blog post. And now, the main prolix.
My cat is fine.
... -ish.
The vet took her to a place in Kireka. I'm supposed to trust it to be safe there, but you know how it is. Can't be sure anybody else understands just how to take care of Space. But she's a tough wee tigress; she'll manage. A hug to all who cared. Now you know why I am lovin' all y'all.

I'm tired of hearing "[...] it comes from the Latin for [some word]". Or "[...], which, of course, comes from the Greek for [some word]". I think it is such an elitist line, really. What sounds better than that, for collecting elitist karma? I'm not against that. Do it, if you like. I'm against the Eurocentricism. I am more into negritude and Afrocentricism. So, you know Nimrod? The dude in the Bible, who was the first World emperor? (It was a small world, yes, so he outdid Genghis Khan without ever riding a horse.) I mean this selfsame Nimrod to whom some Nigerian peoples claim to trace their origin. Nimrod was a Cushite. As in, Black. That doesn't matter. (You see, I'm not Black, me, so I don't give a fuck for colours. Nobody seems to mention my colour—chocolate.) This Nimrod; what matters is that he was an African. And he ran the show at the Babel Tower, yeah? Mama of all them languages. So, any time I want elitist points, I'll just go all like "[...], and it comes from the Babel Tower language for [...]". Me, nobody mess with I.

After noticing the comment trend on my invective-laden posts, this comic makes so much sense. And it is the formula to my immortality. Many columnists use that. Like Timothy Kalyegira, for example. Like Onyango-Obbo, whose logic (for the times I can bear his well-written silliness) only manages to prove its absence—if even that. No reason I shouldn't use it, myself. Hmm. "Shit on a biscuit!" :o)
And if I don't comment back to you, dear reader, it is because I'm away from the computer, bound against a pole by a dagger-wielding dominatrix. :o)
But one rule, I've learnt: do not insult people, unless you include yourself in one way or another.

Next: if you ever have to fill in a field—on the internet or on paper—that asks for a postal code, and you put "256", and I catch you. I'll beat you so hard, your entire family tree will be covered in bruises.
I was filling some form, and the lady at the counter told me to fill "256" into the "postal code" field. In a fucking bank. "256", people, is the international phone code, not the postal code. Uganda has no postal codes. Just refuse to fill that field, when asked for it. It's the only way to heal the world of this silly cultural assumption. Not every country is an unwieldily-huge hunk of dirt that requires postal codes. When I meet a field on the Net that requires a zip code of a Ugandan address I fill it with an expletive. Just Say No.

In the video of Usiende Mbali, Juliana is seen, in some shot, reading a Jackie Collins novel. Hahahaha. FAIL.
In a related development: my recent stories (the ones that don't come to this blog) are often very, very steamy erotica, because of the girl I give them to. She likes them. I've just finished one some two hours ago. By the way, see the time I'm writing this: Thu Aug 7 05:25:55 EAT 2008
Explains the incoherence, eh?

Now, more music stuff. At the last Happy Hour, Antipop and Dee said they only done heard Viva La Vida and Violet Hill off the new Coldplay album. Sad. Because, to me, these are the two least-artistic songs on the album. It contains two hidden tracks, Life in Technicolor (comes after Death And All His Friends), and another that comes after Yes. The same brilliant lyricism that made the band give us earlier greats. The best part about this album is that it will put to death this stupid idea that Coldplay is a rock band. Coldplay is not a rock band, if we are willing to invent a new category. There is more of bagpipes and violins in this album than electric guitars.
Strawberry Swing should top charts. Has an Eastern-leaning theme that may be bagpipes or flutes. I hear the album was recorded in Latin America and Iberia, and took the mystical inspirations. It is evident, the loose Catholicism, in the album. Some songs have audible studio sounds (someone counting down from three, at the start of Strawberry Swing, and a chuckle reminiscent of Twisted Logic from back then at the beginning of Reign of Love). Basically, the work of a band that has proven itself, and is now comfortable with experimentation. Lost! is very rich, but not exactly team-work. Chris Martin sits at the piano and makes it bleed. Nice song that deliberately feels underproduced. Cemeteries of London, with lyrics that are as macabre as they are beautiful. Think a gothic artist like Marilyn Manson singing with a jazz band. That's close.
And the last observation is the unashamed nostalgia on the record. Lovers in Japan feels like an '80s song that took a wrong turn—and feels beautiful while at it. The album is great. I love it. Chris, Jonny Boy, Champion, and Guy have given us nice stuff. So, Dee and Antipop, there. :o)


DeTamble said...

I got Socks!! Suck on that you slut faced whores!!!


DeTamble said...

Hi 27th Comrade, I'm DeTamble, your emissary.

You like to dance? Me, I like to race through the bush along a muddy dirt track, getting covered in scratches from branches, in swift pursuit of some other kid I'm about to beat up with a large stick. I think yours is probably better :-)

You're into negritude and Afrocentricism, I'm into frozen pineapple. I never say where any word came from, unless it's quintessentially ANZAC and then I'll rush in and stomp all over you and claim it with enough pride to make the Haka look like an adorable nursery rhyme.

"I'll beat you so hard, your entire family tree will be covered in bruises." *swoons* Like sweet nothings whispered in my ear. Now someone give me a form so I can fill in a 256 to make Comrade beat me like that.

...You're always incoherent you moron.

I don't have any Coldplay...PLEASE DON'T PITCHFORK ME! I'm all up for musical re-education Communist style. I wonder if you will like Jim Moray...

Mudamuli Ntikita Ntikita said...

So I can picture you going ‘technique and it comes from the Babel Tower language Tekh, which is another name of Thoth

The sole reason for which I studied New Testament Greek I & II just so I could roll my eyes at whoever went …, it comes from the Greek word…

dannycrane said...

...... denny crane

Princess said...

I love the first paragraph.
The post then dwindles into incomprehensible nothingness.
No offence, Rev. :P

antipop said...

Rev really! sometimes when you run out of communist rants, just take a vacation or something! to have a whole paragraph or so dedicated to the postal/zip code is just plain obsessive whinning.

lots of love

DeTamble said...

Shut up Slutpop. That paragraph was hilarious.

petesmama said...

I must agree with you - Tuku music is for sharing. Cheek to cheek.

lulu said...

at least ive gotten to be the 9th, i usually edge close to the 30 somerthings...usually... i loved the first part about dancing, really sensual. anyway...the rest didnt matter much after that

Lindah said...

I like the first slot. But what is it with you and cuts?

gayuganda said...


the post I could not finish.

Princess kinda nailed it, but I did love the comments. Wow!

gayuganda said...

Hey, Communist,

Princess has gone to the land of the Great Satan, can you ask her what that big word means 'incomprehensible nothingness' indeed!