tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63823109191417467852024-02-02T11:26:11.108-08:00Skeato's blogAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-21643894953344281592013-01-16T05:31:00.002-08:002013-01-16T05:31:33.305-08:00Breaking Dawn final lobotomy <br />
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Ok I admit it, I saw the final installment of the sparkly vampire movies. </div>
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So there, admitting it makes me a little more manly right? Yeah didn't think so either. </div>
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Well what I can say is that this final *ahem* masterpiece really deserves every bit of its reputation; As crap. </div>
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At least these movies excel in their consistency (as consistently crap). </div>
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Movies are after all about entertainment aren't they? That is the primary driving factor that makes us head to the cinema or switch on the tube isn't it? There are after all, some really fun low IQ films out there, and although devoid of any moral or ethical message or soul, they still manage to engage the audience in some way and maybe enthral the senses just a little, if only for a moment. </div>
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Kinda like that Prometheus movie: The first half started so well; full of the kind of mystery and intrigue that draws the audience in (just pity about the second half though).</div>
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Or that Coyote Ugly movie, that featured what must have been one of the best trailers ever! Twas just a pity about the actual movie though. Both films actually entertain in some form or other, but this film? Not even close.</div>
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I've criticised these movies before, and this sequel continues in much the same vein as the previous installments; that is: Leave your IQ at the door, along with any semblance of taste you may have, because we will tell you what to like and here it is, a steaming pile of excrement on the screen. And don't expect even a teensy tiny little bit entertainment value to arrive at any stage during your torture...and it's STILL filled with peadophiles, devil spawn and overgrown dogs. And what is so absolutely amazing to me is not that it has these elements, I have accepted their presence since the last movie, still don't understand them though, but it just kinda goes about its business ignoring these facts.</div>
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This one failed on so many accounts it was painful. Really painful, physically and mentally so. Not as in cringe like 'Meet The Fockers' cringe, but going to the dentist when-they-put-that-horrible-cotton-wool-crap-in-your-mouth cringe.</div>
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(I actually think I dropped a few IQ points watching this s%&*, which is nothing to scoff at...I don't have all that many to spare).</div>
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Despite my growing queasiness, while is sat there I couldn't help but wonder to myself: "Are people this stupid?" And more to the point: "Are young teens this stupid?" That is who mostly watches this fancy pantsy, pansy (see what I did there?) crap isn't it? Its not just 30-year old dudes who like subjecting themselves to cinematic torture, surely?</div>
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Are the youth of today that much dumber than they were two decades ago when Kurt Cobain was remaking the teen music scene? Did we have any movies this bad when we were young(er)? The only trilogies I could remember growing up were AWESOME! Indiana Jones, Back to The Future, Star Wars... Perhaps it's the appearance of the female teen audience in recent times that has given scope to such an atrocity of cinema? But how can that be? I thought all young girls where funny and witty like in Juno. Except less pregnant. </div>
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It must be a good thing if this emergence of the young female POV has gained a mouthpiece...but surely young girls aren't this moronic? And why does a set of movies like these Twilight ones speak to them like they are? Please someone correct me on this, or help me out. I'm really struggling to get my head around it. Does anyone have an intelligent female role model who is in touch with this audience on speed dial? Britney Spears? Oh no wait...maybe Lindsay Lohan...she probably doesn't have her mobile in jail...ok ok maybe Taylor Swift? Or maybe she's busy breaking up with someone again and telling them how much she hates them. Dammit. Gaga...ok I just gagged. Gaga, gagged (see I still clefer I promus yoos)</div>
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Well anyway, objectively although the first half of the movie is freaking terrible, it does get a bit better when the massive fight between our heroes (the original sparkly vampires) and the Jedi Council, oh sorry, I mean the Vol-something-or-other, begins. (They're the gothic ones that apparently run things...And are a lot more interesting than the Brady bunch come vegetarian vampire gang.) </div>
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Thankfully the big fight is almost half the movie! Because if I ever had to hear someone say the name "Renesmé" one more time I might've lost my mind! Or vomited. Or both.</div>
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And still with the whole paedophile thing! When the wolf/gotta-take-my-shirt-off-ASAP guy 'imprints on the child' I still cannot help but gag. Think about it. It's disgusting. </div>
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At least our new vampire heroin gets upset at one stage, well kind of. At least there is some reference to how overboard the concept is. Well...that is before being completely distracted by all the awesome sex her and her 100 year old sparkly demon spawn boyfriend are having. Wasn't this a movie for young girls? </div>
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Oh no it's cool, they're married, and she's also a vampire now. Sweet. So let me get this right: he stole her soul, her virginity and now her life...awesome. Think Bram Stoker would probably approve of that. </div>
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So yeah, the fight; cool because some of the main characters die. And that seems to add a bit of actual meaning to the story, and make things a bit more interesting (read: tolerable) and at the very least, a bit more entertaining. Sadly at the end though; the film pulls a; 'JR Ewing in Dallas/ Magnolia' moment (waking up and it's all a dream). Where the audience is reassured the fight never actually happened and the Brady Bunch sparklies are all as safe as ever. Which really is a pity because the narrative almost grew a pair there for a moment. (like totes crazy like Oooooh eemmmmmM Geeeee) but ALAS! our heroes are safe, even our paedophile! Thank barbie and her unicorn. </div>
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I can just imagine Juno saying something witty right about now, oh she's such a kidder that one.</div>
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Well I guess that's all there is to say about that. Or rather all I want to say cause I'm over this subject. I could go on trying to find the metaphors and cinematic genius in the film, but there aren't any. It is still undeniably an good feat of marketing and a clear example how audiences can be told what to see as opposed to judging for themselves. After all in the end these films have poured a crap load of cash into its makers' pockets. </div>
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And I guess it's not really aimed at me. Although the little teenage girl inside of me, hated the film just as much as the rest of me. </div>
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To be fair, not the worst out of all the sequels. But that's not saying all that much. </div>
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Smooches</div>
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<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-28436364306145330312012-12-09T08:49:00.000-08:002012-12-09T08:49:25.340-08:00A SAFA in France
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What an amazing place France is. I cannot recommend it
enough to anyone who wants to visit. Of course I’d recommend living here even
more, but lets focus on a few other things in the meantime.</div>
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Around every corner the country seems to just breath
history. As you pass vineyards, lakes, mountains, tiny towns that aren’t even
on map you get the sense that each rock has been kicked at least like a billion
times, and that these valleys have seen more wars than JZ has children. </div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> Having made the decision to come to France for the first
time a few years back, was a combination of realizing a goal as well as
confronting a few romanticisms head on. Like for example; living in the South
Of France.</div>
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I was stationed in a little military port/town called
Toulon, about an hour outside St. Tropez and Marseilles in either direction. No
one told me though that the city, although pretty much on the edge of the
French Riviera was more like East London (SA’s version not London’s) than East
Awesome. But never the matter…</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zwQF1WMRvh2vtHIy87WT7xcTjCVXj_D1sRMy6DCMewhwmFLT8_xtjOZnjnymyIKY0ZTz7Jv8-9Inif3BRr4Z8VxX58NrlLyuYFO-vGX79HVO2JyYEPOZJzdU-U9NFmCIv4SpLZy328yj/s1600/Skeato+Duras+wine+fest.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zwQF1WMRvh2vtHIy87WT7xcTjCVXj_D1sRMy6DCMewhwmFLT8_xtjOZnjnymyIKY0ZTz7Jv8-9Inif3BRr4Z8VxX58NrlLyuYFO-vGX79HVO2JyYEPOZJzdU-U9NFmCIv4SpLZy328yj/s320/Skeato+Duras+wine+fest.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wine festival in Duras</td></tr>
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The surrounding area was truly amazing…Provence is
everything its cracked up to be. Full of the kind of naturalistic beauty and
charm that all those guide books go on <span style="font-family: "Arial Italic";">ad
naseum</span> about. And full of the kind of beautiful ruined medieval villages
and tiny little vineyards that make it seem like you’re walking through a
storybook, or a movie. The country side is really breathtaking, and at the risk
of going on and on (like those darned guide books) you never quite run out of
scenery in this country, something that we can relate to as South African’s.
With the kind of country that makes tourists flock to our end of the world
every year. </div>
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What France trumps us in every time besides all that
history, is being in Europe; where a spliff and some good times is waiting only
a hour away in Amsterdam. (EasyJet, one of the UK’s and Europe’s low cost
airlines, is offering flights at around 40-60 Euros from Gatwick To Schipol)
Traveling in Europe is disgustingly easy and cheap. As a Saffa sitting on the
end of the African continent, an hour flight doesn’t really take you anywhere,
but here?! You can go populate the world with your seed! Just remember to take
that shower afterwards.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcvfQ7FmTKcNOoPjW3ajiyzqIHo2NU3Lk7z6VfPHkXuEk32vWwn0Q3ofdl_QzHDgAoUmpcRoWS48-XZSofD-aKVS7IHE1Amf_uTXzJp6n7W9Mt4Vo0YoAr2E0du4yn_ckvHsq_Hp9fChL9/s1600/Skeato+in+Sarlat+Castle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcvfQ7FmTKcNOoPjW3ajiyzqIHo2NU3Lk7z6VfPHkXuEk32vWwn0Q3ofdl_QzHDgAoUmpcRoWS48-XZSofD-aKVS7IHE1Amf_uTXzJp6n7W9Mt4Vo0YoAr2E0du4yn_ckvHsq_Hp9fChL9/s320/Skeato+in+Sarlat+Castle.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castle in neighbouring Perigord region</td></tr>
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This second trip to France and the decision to continue my
love affair with the country has taken me to the South West (some say the
cradle of rugby in the country) but certainly known for all its amazing wine
(Bordeaux is an hour away by car) and its amazing Duck and Foie Gras. The
produce here is amazing! One of the most beautiful aspects of the French
lifestyle is the morning market rush, where all the local organic producers
from around the area congregate to delight the taste buds and sense. Its just
business as usual or the locals, but for a tourist, its awesome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> And yes the French LOVE their baguette, and after a few days here so will you!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filet Mignon...good!!!</td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> So I basically went from the Mediterranean to the Lot Valley
and was greeted by a completely different culture, mindset and experience. All
the rough strokes were the same, but <span style="font-family: "Arial Italic";">‘the
devil is in the detail’ </span>so they say.</div>
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Oh yeah and then there’s the French. What an interesting
bunch. As emotional and passionate as everyone says (and doesn’t say) and far
more friendly and polite than they’re reputation gives them credit for. But
don’t expect top get anywhere quickly on the roads…if you’re in a rush, you’ll
be screaming bloody murder before the ride’s over. I think on a sliding scale
there’d be African time…which most of us are familiar with, and then there’s
French time.</div>
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(little night market below)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night Market </td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> If you need something fixed or seen to in a week, expect
someone to get to you in about 3. They are the only country in the world SURELY
where restaurants are opened for lunch ONLY between 12-2. I’ve been turned away
from a full restaurant and busy kitchen on numerous occasions because I got to
the restaurant just before the close of service (2pm). Sure you can pick up a
baguette at the local boulangeirie…but that’s if you can find one that’s open.</div>
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Ok ok its not all that bad, but if you’re traveling around
the country side, popping into some little French villages whilst on holiday,
make sure you time things well enough to be hungry and walking into a
restaurant between 12 and 2pm. And closer to 12! </div>
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[And just a little tip of the side: The French LOVE their country, try trow a little french around and show how much you appreciate their culture and love their country and they shall love you right back!]</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwswu5Y2YVYJJ2wuE6AUWfTSik3ryazUCO_u2HMGDOBh8qkciBwC9I1OT1PJ2hdS56VJ4Lp6IISlB2i0lgodBgs4wAXdp4foVLFVRdwoLFLMX1zWN4NdDmx8teijETuKxrEZjnw8wyG9O/s1600/pretentious-frenchman+skeato's+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwswu5Y2YVYJJ2wuE6AUWfTSik3ryazUCO_u2HMGDOBh8qkciBwC9I1OT1PJ2hdS56VJ4Lp6IISlB2i0lgodBgs4wAXdp4foVLFVRdwoLFLMX1zWN4NdDmx8teijETuKxrEZjnw8wyG9O/s200/pretentious-frenchman+skeato's+blog.jpg" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Au Revior et a bientot</td></tr>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> I could write a book about France, honestly I love this
place, and even when I hate it, I love it. But any longer and I’m going be
losing your attention, so let us leave it there…feel free to send my any
questions of places you’re thinking about going, or just tweet the hell out of
me @RossSkeate, oh yeah and I'm constantly posting photos like the ones you see above on Instagram (find me there @skeato)</div>
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Anyways!!! All my love and ill be chatting to you soon, and writing more regularly I promise. </div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-81642369585864359662012-04-08T12:48:00.000-07:002012-04-08T12:48:50.096-07:00Social Media<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; color: #333330; font-family: Marydale; font-size: 23px; font-weight: bold;">Yes...you are right it has been ages since my last blog post. For this I must not only apologize but give a few excuses.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; color: #333330; font-family: Marydale; font-size: 23px; font-weight: bold;"></span><br />
<div>My main excuse actually ties in quite nicely with my topic in this little musing; that being the nature of social media and it's evolvolution.</div><div>I'm sure most of you can remember the first instances of Facebook arriving in the country and it's subsequent domination of the social media market completely eclipsing the previous entry of MySpace into the market, and how quickly it took off. Yes we've all seen the movie "The Social Network" chronicling the rise to power of Facebook's 'creator' Mark Zuckerburg...and if you haven't seen the movie, pretty sure you'd be familiar with the story behind the phenom. </div><div>But its not so much Facebook I want to concentrate on but the whole universe of social media itself. </div><div>What we have seen in recent days with the growth of the Internet and its globalisation has been the randomness and diluting of much of what it has been about in the past. Personally I love the Internet, freely available highly accessible information is really amazing on so many levels!(Information Act be damned! As well as recent American congress policies to try and censor much of the information available to the general public, also no secret that South Korea's absolute authoristrian control over the Internet to it's general public has gone hand in hand with its poor development on the world stage). So basically: freedom of speech and free open source information is a very good thing. </div><div>But...and here is my major point; the freely available nature and accessibility inherent to the Internet has heralded the rise of social media and the randomness of so much white noise across its sphere. </div><div>With so many people tweeting, Facebooking, and yes...blogging, we find ourselves in a position where we can not only keep in constant contact with what Johnny had for breakfast, but what Suzie's cat looks like when it's sleeping (I'll never understand why so many people post so many photos of their cats on so many social media platforms). Thus arrives more white noise and randomness than ever before in our lives. Almost like living in a small town where we are constantly bombarded with the random mutterings of the local gossip queens and what mundane thing happened in their day. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy4HuZdoOe35yxym8B0YbAa5ijGELm6Ml0NN3EUiS6winh-sP9ZExPF9n9y3GyGSMcukphyphenhyphenjCR6GOPVXXhEuclZ8x27RCGDx-n2rSQ-1qBQk0E9JjFf_bVsUBn-6kSsryVpgibxFfBbep/s1600/twitter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy4HuZdoOe35yxym8B0YbAa5ijGELm6Ml0NN3EUiS6winh-sP9ZExPF9n9y3GyGSMcukphyphenhyphenjCR6GOPVXXhEuclZ8x27RCGDx-n2rSQ-1qBQk0E9JjFf_bVsUBn-6kSsryVpgibxFfBbep/s400/twitter.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Of course I realise that the mundane is a huge element to the human experience and comes hand in hand with how we live on a daily basis...but honestly my own mundane occurrences are enough for me, let alone being subjected to everyone else's. </div><div>So this is my excuse. Lately I have become disillusioned with social media in general and Twitter in particular. I have also been guilty of mundane tweeting in my past, my present and no doubt shall be in my future...My bad. At least I'm aware of my hypocrisy...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Thus a tendency that has arisen in our lives to constantly broadcast every thought, moment and every picture (of our cats)...whether or not that is a good thing is really up to you to decide, personally I'm not a huge fan. I think the one thing that so many people haven't developed is an appropriate filter to what is interesting and what is just noise. Of course each personality is different and each person's idea of interesting is different, but I think we can agree we don't really want to know what Johnny had for breakfast, but we'd be a whole lot more interested in a video of him bunjy jumping in a monkey suit blindfolded and eating a banana. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52PzNHOWlH4UHzw0Er7zS53d_T0-6h6ox1YHithXHDO7dRujcBELZE-zGb_5VQ8cklQEIiY-ySjxCgJmYCPg-mvpfathT8XoPeAvIUJykGbDtiWOXNlPdZ-LkIqrmHXOUZqGPzC91Rj2V/s1600/twitter-joke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52PzNHOWlH4UHzw0Er7zS53d_T0-6h6ox1YHithXHDO7dRujcBELZE-zGb_5VQ8cklQEIiY-ySjxCgJmYCPg-mvpfathT8XoPeAvIUJykGbDtiWOXNlPdZ-LkIqrmHXOUZqGPzC91Rj2V/s400/twitter-joke.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Basically I think it's important for each individual to ask themselves the question of relevance before broadcasting each moment. Think before you tweet, is the new look before you leap. </div><div>Of course as with anything it all does depend, after all I'm pretty sure a lot of people would be interested in what Lady Gaga had for breakfast, but we're not all Lady Gaga (thank goodness). </div><div><br />
</div><div>Interestingly with all this white noise barging into our lives, has come the emergence of an Internet 'cool' or social media 'cool' that sees certain individuals rising to some semblance of popularity as a result of their basic interestingness and creative ability with the platform itself. It's almost as if a new niche culture has arrived into the din of so many voices as to what voices are in fact, the ones to listen to. My only concern is are we becoming a culture that places too much relevance on what certain of these 'cool' individuals think, say or do? And i think we are. </div><div>You have only to check on how many followers Gaga for example has to realise this. And although it may be interesting to hear that she ate the entrails of a chocolate coated defurred bunny for her Easter surprise, and made a delightful necklace out of the leftovers...do we really care on a fundamental level? I really don't think it's going to solve any of the world's problems. </div><div>But I guess that's where it becomes fuzzy, I am, after all, writing this to you on a social media platform (amongst a million other blogs) and for me to think my voice or thoughts on the matter are any different or all that more relevant than anyone elses's is slightly naive and self centred really, but perhaps to a different individual following the world's new royalty (like Gaga) does alleviate some pain and difficulty associated with the problems of human existence...but for me it most certainly does not. After all, and here's my final point, the most renown world thinkers, artists, leaders and individuals aren't tweeting their mundane meanderings through everyday life. Can you imagine a Bertrand Russel, Noam Chomsky et al, tweeting about how cute their cats look sleeping on their backs? Or Beethoven tweeting "just finished my 9th Symphony...think this one is gonna be a goodie"</div><div><br />
</div><div>Anyhow that's enough random noise from me...</div><div>Hope this finds you all well!</div><div>Much love</div><div>Skeato</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-6489562734070780922012-01-02T12:22:00.000-08:002012-01-02T12:22:09.762-08:00What is the point?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>732</o:Words> <o:Characters>4176</o:Characters> <o:Lines>34</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>5128</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>11.1539</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:DoNotShowRevisions/> <w:DoNotPrintRevisions/> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I know, I know...its been ages since I last wrote. </div><div class="MsoNormal">But guess what one of my New Years resolutions is? </div><div class="MsoNormal">So here we go.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What is the point of life? The age-old question.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The question that burns the back of our throats, sours the tip of our tongues, and if ever we take the time to stop buzzing through life from one moment to the next, the one question that keeps us awake at night as we grasp for an answer. Seems to be the general human condition doesn’t it? Grasping for answers in a cloudy mist of questions that bear down upon us everytime we pull our heads out the sand. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Various answers have swayed mankind for years, and taken each generation into its own social and political headspace, led primarily by whatever mode of communication or thought pervades that particular space in time. Sadly the more I consider thongs around us and this society we find ourselves, seems as thought the culture of materialism and celebrity worship has taken hold of those ideals and bent them in a direction that would make earlier philosophers and literary heavy weights do somersaults in their graves. Almost as if those answers we are constantly searching for are as much remedies to the problems inherent in our existence as they are answers to our need to be first rich and then happy. Apologies I am straying of track slightly here…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Personally I think finding the answer to; “what is life?” is just as important as the process of asking oneself the question.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We need these moments of inflection and consideration to understand ourselves as much as to understand our environment. Sure the Nihilist amongst us would ask why even pursue such fruitless lines of thinking, but I say Nihilism be damned. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Creation.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s what I believe life is all about.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Of course there is a very firm religious association with any questions we may ask ourselves about the very nature of existence, and much of that answer would stem from what we believe and how we believe it. Or if the atheists among us were to throw their towel into the ring and have their say…other answers would creep in from propagation of the species, to a good dash of Nihilism (again).</div><div class="MsoNormal">But beyond all that contextualization, as well as a purposeful avoidance of any religious debate…I believe in life as creation.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I believe that inherent in every human being is the need to create. I believe it is one of the fundamentals of human nature…to create, to shape, to build. And however we see ourselves and however we want ourselves to be seen, we create on a day to day basis.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me clarify the term “create” that I’m throwing around so casually. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I am not referring to the act of writing a few novels, publishing a blog, painting a portrait or any of the modern social media equivalents…Specifically I am referring to creation in a much broader sense. To be more concrete in my representation; I use creation to describe all forms or creation available to us as human beings. When we think, when we talk, when we make a decision, when we move…these are all aspects of creation that become part of us (mannerisms, speech patterns, our very thoughts) as the very act of using these beginning phases of creation to create moments of experience in our lives (the very act of not making a decision or ‘going with the flow’ is a decision in itself to not act…and so becomes a act of creation). And so we see the need to create and (excuse the verbose language) to create as creatively as possible. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMt2fX0vHVpkYsv7_dfzfcvupiNLowIl7i_phLmpqMfXuNqVD3aZDzWvOz5ed1TDiv7UzZ3o5qpHgOpuNg6EaLzL8098lMavXb1rl6fGCgFnRHZmG7nvmsfQOr9d3JteX2tLszgdHfJKT/s1600/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Regret.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMt2fX0vHVpkYsv7_dfzfcvupiNLowIl7i_phLmpqMfXuNqVD3aZDzWvOz5ed1TDiv7UzZ3o5qpHgOpuNg6EaLzL8098lMavXb1rl6fGCgFnRHZmG7nvmsfQOr9d3JteX2tLszgdHfJKT/s400/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Regret.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Which brings me to another part of my theory: life as creation, and the significance of the individual.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As with most things in life I believe that individuals need find their own reasons and answers to their cosmic existence, and why that cosmic existence, is. And although many may not share my concept of creation, if we consider the most beautiful moments of our existence and ask ourselves what those were, many would point to specific events and memories. And if we consider those moments profoundly we understand the creativity intrinsic to each one. After all you couldn’t be reading this without a whole series of profound and amazing creative events taking place. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So to the individual: </div><div class="MsoNormal">With each canvas an artist creates, his style develops. It is indeed that individual style of the artist, writer, sculptor that endures their work to us? And if we consider life as creation and consider the need for us to then create in our own lives, thus we understand that by the very act of creating however consciously or unconsciously we begin to breathe ourselves into each and every moment of our lives. We find our own voice, or our paintbrush our own narrative. And thus is born the most beautiful moments of creation and the fundamental need of each human being. Individual creation. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OY2rS9e4Opo9JRyRpdcMB8UOqgSDZCom_4aCsWwwn7LAVzkOn6qivLLjtzTQdFmW_Yxas9IozUxd9I8K8kzcTtZkVN_gkGmsnoC81fcuHMe2FSSNj6uu9FjTyjuii6GasF9dRnW85nTi/s1600/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Comfort+Zone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OY2rS9e4Opo9JRyRpdcMB8UOqgSDZCom_4aCsWwwn7LAVzkOn6qivLLjtzTQdFmW_Yxas9IozUxd9I8K8kzcTtZkVN_gkGmsnoC81fcuHMe2FSSNj6uu9FjTyjuii6GasF9dRnW85nTi/s320/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Comfort+Zone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes I understand the concept of balance, Ying and Yang, birth and death, light and dark and many eastern philosophies that highlight the impossibility for creation to exist without destruction, order without chaos. But if I wasn’t so aware of how long winded and boring this little piece is becoming we could talk ad nauseam about how so much of destruction is creation. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I hope this finds you all well.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Create something beautfiul today, whether its a moment, a thought, or even just a word, CREATE.</div><div class="MsoNormal">All my best</div><div class="MsoNormal">Skeato</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtL29Zt2zu2O6BS8Gasj4RdcVH-Z50GD0TB7ynKyorj5v5l_lKGSd-0cdf5poyV5J1QVHoTGZd1MBKqv0l5AafcuVVMlu3-xDaVinWYhYuWMj_aVzVfGxDGwINt9khA9B-hIU_OzuIZUVZ/s1600/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Fair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtL29Zt2zu2O6BS8Gasj4RdcVH-Z50GD0TB7ynKyorj5v5l_lKGSd-0cdf5poyV5J1QVHoTGZd1MBKqv0l5AafcuVVMlu3-xDaVinWYhYuWMj_aVzVfGxDGwINt9khA9B-hIU_OzuIZUVZ/s400/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Fair.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">P.S. Yes I realize that using a quote from Gossip Girl is is a bit pansy-arsed...but it helps to make my point. </div><div class="MsoNormal">P.P.S. Yes I love ponies. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-31169591844865033182011-12-01T11:30:00.000-08:002011-12-01T11:30:44.925-08:00Eclipse...are you kidding me?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>879</o:Words> <o:Characters>5015</o:Characters> <o:Lines>41</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>10</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>6158</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>11.1539</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:DoNotShowRevisions/> <w:DoNotPrintRevisions/> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:UseMarginsForDrawingGridOrigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Ok first I need to be honest with you all; Yes, I have seen the latest film in the Twilight series; Beaking Dawn. You know the one with the sparkly ‘vegetarian’ vampires that make young girls swoon and have spawned a whole bunch of fancy-pantsy vampire models. None of the original soul and mythology inherent in the original Bram Stoker versions.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEh60RxJoLL4uExKQMEysJmIHx31_RffimQ3mTTR22-GKvZmeS1qSYdyAFYn6Z5lbH0hfxsgj43M_uE46DC_kG46xSvm-FXcj2PAPhc1CmJCq9D8TkpJKhltBVvaqMhzxljhZBWG9v56M/s1600/Breaking+Dawn+Skeato%2527s+Blog.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEh60RxJoLL4uExKQMEysJmIHx31_RffimQ3mTTR22-GKvZmeS1qSYdyAFYn6Z5lbH0hfxsgj43M_uE46DC_kG46xSvm-FXcj2PAPhc1CmJCq9D8TkpJKhltBVvaqMhzxljhZBWG9v56M/s320/Breaking+Dawn+Skeato%2527s+Blog.png" width="204" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But yes, I did see the latest offering. I have no excuses, except one. I was drugged and forced to watch it. Pormise. Roofied with some kinda new drug that allows all cognitive functions and forces one to want to watch ‘gay shit’ (as one of the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>boys so eloquently described the whole series) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So here I am writing to you guys, having just painted my nails with my new ‘Hello Kitty’ nail polish and am like totally lol about the new movie! I mean hello! Edward and Jacob are so like amazing!...dammit! Roofies must still be in my system.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me start by saying that I totally understand the packaging that this product comes in, and has found wide spread popularity as a result…also spawning a set of sequels that has echoed with it’s target market (little swoony teenage girls…and now me)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>even finding cross appeal into a wider, older (read: should know better) audience. But seriously? What the F%@K! Or as me and my BFFs like to say WTF!!! Im so lolling right now! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If you have seen the movie no doubt you would have found as much of the plot as humorous as I did. It does seem to be a film that’s half horror, half comedy and complete soapie! If I am completely honest and I let my film studies background come out; it’s a movie that suffers a bit of an identity crisis and switches from one extreme to the next.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I knew the movie was gonna be cringeworthy when the first scene shows the choir-boy with pecs (you know the one that turns into a badly animated dog) takes his shirt off within literally the first minute. Swoon! I mean Barf …but when the first half of the narrative is all about weddings and happy go lucky smiles and everyone living in teeny bopper heaven I rarely couldn’t stand to watch. Luckily those drugs were strong! Basically, pretty consistent with the earlier movies in the series!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes…I know…its my fault I was there in the first place. But those damn roofies were strong! Promise. At least the choir-boy-with-pecs was slightly more interesting in this movie than the previous ones, although his acting attempts to look angry the majority of the movie just got irritating after a while. (You’d think after 2hours he would have eventually got it right). Also you’d think they’d get some good actors for this show. Even that ginger in the Harry Potter movies was more versatile! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh and don’t even get me started on the other 20 mins of the opening stages (after the wedding festivities) that basically was a drawn out depiction of an 18yr old girl losing her virginity. Seriously? And I think I was the only one in the cinema unable to look for the entire 20 mins as all the movie did was go on and on ad-naseam about Bella’s de-flowing by her new vamp husband. Yeah one of the sparkly ones. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I guess here they wanted to address their target market again, maybe along the line of what a big thing it is in a young girls life and Bella did it the right way, at 18 and married. But c’mon! What kind of a freaking message is this movie sending young girls anyway?</div><div class="MsoNormal">This chick after all the crap she puts herself through, marries a killer, literally a vampire, if that isn’t self-destructive than I don’t know what is, and proceeds to get married at 18!!!! Freaking hell is this the Middle Ages or what? Just so he can then turn her into a Vampire (read: thing that eats humans and is half dead). WTF!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then shit gets really effed up!</div><div class="MsoNormal">She gets pregnant.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After losing her virginity to an undead blood sucker (sparkly dandy boy), she freaking falls pregnant with his demon spawn. Mothers!!! I would never let my daughter watch this s&#t. And the most hectic part…it’s such a messed up spawn of Satan that is grows unbelievably fast and starts to suck the life out of her. At least the movie starts to get interesting at this point. I mean at this stage I’ve been sitting in that cinema for an hour, roofied for one and a half, and not one person has been bitten, maimed, killed, no action whatsoever! Worst pansy arsed munch of vampires ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh my goodness! Bram Stoker is turning in his grave as we speak. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then she decides to have the baby although its killing her! Literally eating her from the inside out…WEIRD. But she loves it anyway…as has been her self destructive tendencies throughout these movies. If she found a bag of venomous vipers she’s probably try and use them for a pillow. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And lets not even begin to talk about how messed up the birth is…Blood and guts everywhere! Our slightly unhinged heroine is an emaciated tomboy at this point, and then to get the demon spawn out, our sparkly dandy hero actually bites her open! WTF OMG! My delicate teenage sensibilities were shaken. I almost couldn’t go on MiXit for a week!</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then the little choir boy runs off all ‘angry’, or was he constipated? Couldn’t quite make out what he was going for. When you gotta go you gotta go after all.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Luckily 'Renesme'…literally the worst baby name in the history of baby names…I haven’t laughed that hard for a while…is saved by choir-boy-with-pecs when the other wolves want to come and kill the little terribly named spawn of satan. Even the spawn of a demon doesn’t deserve a name that hideous.</div><div class="MsoNormal">But luckily Jacob turns out to be a pedophile and ‘imprints’ on the tiny baby before all is lost. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Phew…close one. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there we have it…literally the worst movie as far as parental messages go. A self-destructive decidedly tomboyish lead actress who’s toughest decision is to love a walking blood sucking corpse or an overgrown badly animated dog. Not even to mention how messed up that whole pregnancy and birth things is! Roofies firmly worn off by then…out of pure shock and horror! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CYIahzG2fKoEI-xlAfTrDW_rtBKJp7mN1UZsWXS2Y40naA0ZVLl-76IZi57w6zT9CSfX8Df5AZESd1q_QN7bJOjWcjXVpt4D2o-d7s6z9EEXKCvfCvSO-oKL7BaRk32X9lZEFl0YHvCX/s1600/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Twilight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CYIahzG2fKoEI-xlAfTrDW_rtBKJp7mN1UZsWXS2Y40naA0ZVLl-76IZi57w6zT9CSfX8Df5AZESd1q_QN7bJOjWcjXVpt4D2o-d7s6z9EEXKCvfCvSO-oKL7BaRk32X9lZEFl0YHvCX/s320/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Twilight.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Come to think of it…Bram stoker would actually be pretty proud. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Watch this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://youtu.be/h5tB-USJdGA">http://youtu.be/h5tB-USJdGA</a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-82055930459535943742011-10-17T12:36:00.000-07:002011-10-17T12:36:40.674-07:00Where have all the men gone?<!--[if !mso]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Who are these smooth faced androgynous boys I am seeing more and more of? Who are these lads beamed at us across all media posing in their CK underpants and talking about what the Kardashian’s got up to over the weekend? Where have the Clark Gables, Clint Eastwoods and Sean Connerys of our generation disappeared to? And what hell is all this pansy arse sparkly vampire BS about? There is far too much Eclipse in the world and far too little Bram Stoker.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s almost become a recurring theme with the New Age man…the watering down of masculinity as his defining attribute. And I don’t like it! We have been listening to too many women and ‘Lad Mags’ about what it is to be a man. We have been seeing too many young lads with their 8 packs staring back out from us from the covers of numerous magazines and advertisements, too many Robert Pattinsons or The Werewolf one, they’re all interchangeable…and few rarely express what a man should be, even in today’s modern society, actually check that, especially in today’s modern society. Strange isn’t it that only a few short years ago, one of the biggest debates in modern media was the depiction of women through beauty magazines and products, and what example our youth was encoded with from an early age as a result. And now… the ‘Bigger Guns, Better Body’ topics of numerous mags and publications as well as their ‘Best Hair Products’ for men, has slowly but firmly been blurring the lines between feminine and masculine.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMmDYt6jhs2I07pmsK9ZlSgzD9r3uZ_bGhG3FZhcptXdOQy3aj4Qi7rmrwF1FUHwYo_aaE7Q1e5s2Bdl7Ux28SuAklduue8phX64oQFUw0i1s2-9QzJ2agQslyo7537IblIXn4KtqpkU5/s1600/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Oscar+Wilde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMmDYt6jhs2I07pmsK9ZlSgzD9r3uZ_bGhG3FZhcptXdOQy3aj4Qi7rmrwF1FUHwYo_aaE7Q1e5s2Bdl7Ux28SuAklduue8phX64oQFUw0i1s2-9QzJ2agQslyo7537IblIXn4KtqpkU5/s320/Skeato%2527s+Blog+Oscar+Wilde.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now please do not misunderstand me here, I don’t mean that a man shouldn’t take pride in his appearance and hygiene…but waxed eyebrows is often taking it a little too far. Can you imagine Sean Connery in his leathery Scottish accent asking the beautician: “Pleesh my dear, would you do me the implishit honour of…um …a say…Back, Sack and Crack waxsh? Why shank you darlin’” </div><div class="MsoNormal">Octopussy would not have been very impressed. Neither would M, or Q, or any of the other consonants. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh and don’t even get me started on the guy that cries when his girlfriend or significant other fights with him. I mean either the guy has the most sensitive soul ever! Think Brendan Fraser’s ‘Ginger’ persona in that one movie when Liz Hurley is the Devil…if you don’t remember it, you’re excused. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xmpi_BGPaSdSQv4Kops8ANWzHWb6dOBorJ89YX46OYYvcyNtxdYNvLriIRwDJqIJd6pRDWjENXuAgaCnQvtQmpJM5n4KCBIqI_3Y2Zfs4oaNxhRvHziCszju7xVBEGvbMyJTMuvBcuVP/s1600/Ginger+Skeato%2527s+Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xmpi_BGPaSdSQv4Kops8ANWzHWb6dOBorJ89YX46OYYvcyNtxdYNvLriIRwDJqIJd6pRDWjENXuAgaCnQvtQmpJM5n4KCBIqI_3Y2Zfs4oaNxhRvHziCszju7xVBEGvbMyJTMuvBcuVP/s320/Ginger+Skeato%2527s+Blog.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Or that same guy’s basic understanding of what a man is has become so diluted with the mixed messages we’re getting on a daily basis, that he resorts to tears to guilt his girlfriend out of the break-up speech. Tears? I mean c’mon. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Like in Spiderman when Peter Parker cries because Mary Jane (note the reference to weed there by the way) breaks up with him!!! I mean WHAT THE HELL!!! The guys is freaking Spiderman, a super hero that risks his life on a daily basis fighting evil, and he cries because his girlfriend breaks up with him? Think I vomited a little in my mouth when I watched that.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 174.0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">First problem with this whole business: young men are spending too much time and energy caring what other people think a man is, or should be. Too much time listening what woman want form a man (yes that’s what I think) and what these ‘LadMags’ seem to think. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Remember Clark Gable in Gone With The Wind: “Frankly Scarlet my dear, I don’t give a damn”…enough said.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In my opinion, a man needs to first and foremost find his purpose, find his passion and focus his energies on that, forgetting what other’s opinions are, and becoming an idea of the man he wants to be, not others’ versions. Probably the best writer to describe what a man should be was Ayn Rand. Read her last book “Atlas Shrugged” and meet some of the most masculine and powerful characters I have come across in literature. She puts it beautifully when expressing her philosophies of objectivism and purpose: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m thinking of a strong, powerful man whose ambition and drive far outweighs any of his concerns about what the neighbours are doing, what Sally and Darren’s last fight was about, and how can I guilt my girlfriend into not being angry with me. No Toby Maguire! Tears aren’t the answer if your Mary-Jane wants to end it!!! Get your pimp hand out instead! Hahaha.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And another thing that grates me…this whole concept of ‘finding yourself.’ Julia Roberts in ‘Eat, Pray, Love’, all good…if you’re a lady. But if you’re a man, then no. The set of rules should be different, your ideas of what a man should be, should by this stage, be different. One of my favourite writer/philosophers Jean Paul Sartre said it best when we said:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_v9sC3OciUnY_H7lOAd9vjg0eebhczMQoLbd7x66mCZOeWglM5CAu99EA3FYUBrrp22o1uy8aGdbE8ziDqul4ak1Ju_jZjt7M4LQqlTaP0J0G2IjP6anJ2eTKle32ijHEzTrYwMTyJyv/s1600/Jean+Paul+Sartre+Skeato%2527s+Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_v9sC3OciUnY_H7lOAd9vjg0eebhczMQoLbd7x66mCZOeWglM5CAu99EA3FYUBrrp22o1uy8aGdbE8ziDqul4ak1Ju_jZjt7M4LQqlTaP0J0G2IjP6anJ2eTKle32ijHEzTrYwMTyJyv/s200/Jean+Paul+Sartre+Skeato%2527s+Blog.jpg" width="141" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Now I’m not one to be a complete hypocrite, people in glass houses and all, and if there were a few ex-girlfriends who read this they’d go crazy! Even crazier than they did before! (Restraining orders don’t come cheap) So I’m not preaching complete virtue, and ethical understanding of what a great man should be, that is a whole other piece on it’s own, I am merely highlighting the need for young lads to understand what masculinity is, what a man is, and understand it’s not those soppy sparkly vampires we see on TV, or the irritating androgynous types who are as much feminine as masculine. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A man is whom he aspires to be, what he aspires to be, and it is in that aspiration that he finds purpose and self worth.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And that man would never ever feel powerless enough to commit a crime of power. (read: rape), And there you have it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ok piece out bitches (see what I did there)</div><div class="MsoNormal">Much love</div><div class="MsoNormal">Skeato</div><!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-26941099303602860372011-10-11T11:30:00.000-07:002011-10-11T11:30:54.859-07:00Rugby players...the modern day gladiators.I guess it's all the same isn't it? We run onto the battlefield, primed for warfare with only our bare hands and our bodies as our weapons. Having spent hours and years sharpening our skills in combat we chase glory in the hallowed arena, risking reputation and our bodies for that prize. Blood, and guts every weekend to entertain the maddening crowd...broken bones, torn joints and fractured just-about-anything to succeed. <br />
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For me especially one of my favourite things and one of the very reasons I chose to to pursue a career in rugby was because it was hard, and gladiatorial. I love the idea of flexing our bodies and testing our souls every weekend between those four lines.<br />
Every weekend, every day is a test and there's no room to hide, no escaping the TV cameras and spectators, and that's what I've always loved about the sport.<br />
Just like a Gladiator...in the arena.<br />
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See you in the arena soon...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-85086044865464205552011-10-05T11:07:00.000-07:002011-10-05T11:07:36.621-07:00Life After Rugby?! I should've studied politics...What could the possibilities be for someone who gets paid to beat up on other people?<br />
Maybe I should become a debt collector, or maybe just a high flying businessman, its basically the same things isn't it? Trying to get people to give you money they owe you!<br />
I was toying with the idea of becoming Mayor Of Durban, some of you guys might have seen my ramblings on Twitter, but that does involve eating a lot of Bunny Chow, and I'm not sure I'm up to that challenge just yet. Heartburn and ring-sting almost everyday! I'll be the grumpiest mayor ever, probably fire half my staff within the first week.<br />
But I guess in many ways I can count myself lucky...no not just because I am handy with a broom and the city always needs more janitors...but because I did have the chance to pick up a degree and brief post graduate while I was working my way up the ranks to where I am now. I was lucky in that I took interest and chose to study something that was a lot more flexible. And no I didn't study to become an acrobat or yoga teacher (sorry, too easy) but did my triple major (see what I did there? tried to make myself interesting) in English, Media and Writing.<br />
So I was lucky in that my professors took bribes, JOKES, my luck came in with them understanding that I was a professional rugby player (helped that some of them were rugby fans) and so had a bit of a crazy schedule...OK not all my lecturers, but the important ones...and that my degree depended more on essay writing than testing. So missing test dates was never a problem, although pulling all nighters after a rugby game to bang out a '10000 word essay on the Post-Romantic influences in Modern 20th century narrative prose' for the next day wasn't the fun-nest.<br />
What this flexibility, and the irony of having a few injuries at the time that allowed me to focus more exclusively on my studies, all combined into; was becoming a graduate of The University Of Cape Town, something I am intensely proud of to this day.<br />
I was one of the lucky ones though, and so becoming a starved writer after rugby (I'm not going to mention becoming a marketer cause I really didn't enjoy my post-grad) is a possibility. But what about those guys that have missed the boat altogether? What about those kids you were unable, or unwilling to study after school while pursuing a rugby career?<br />
It's scary when put into perspective the dangers of just missing the professional rugby career path with nothing else to fall back onto. After all, we often see how many hundreds of very talented rugby players our school system churns out every year, but only a handful make careers out of their talent, and fewer still long term ones.<br />
Imagine being a younger player who directly after school pursued a rugby career (or any sporting career for that matter) and neglected an education in the process. And imagine that same individual just misses out on making to the top where he can live off his earnings till he retires. What then?<br />
And with the move of rugby into an increasingly professional aspect, kids are encouraged earlier and earlier to neglect one for the other. Of course there are a select few who use rugby to go through university in this country and others, after all that is one of the beauties of the sport; its ability to open doors and create opportunities. But there are also the unlucky few who end up having to sacrifice their bodies until there's nothing left to sacrifice.<br />
Sure many may have family businesses and farms to head to after all is said and done but again they fall into the 'lucky few' category. And a lot of sportsmen are enterprising enough o use their profile to pursue careers they love, Ryk Neethling is a good example, I recently bumped into him at a wine tasting exhibiting his own wine that he not only bottles but blends himself...<br />
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I think we also need to understand that a rugby career, although having possibilities of being lucrative, is reserved for the top earners in the sport, and still pale in comparison to other professional sports the world over or business positions. Yes I admit (and happen to think its a good thing) that rugby is growing and expanding, thus more money surrounds the sport and so younger players shall earn more than I did for example, but the numbers we are talking aren't staggering, and being a contact sport each career only lasts so long.<br />
So what are the solutions? Practice your debating skills for a future in politics! Joking.<br />
I emphasize the importance of an education for a rugby player, because not only does playing rugby enable one to find a good education more easily and readily, but an education last a lifetime when rugby can only last you so long. And believe me when I say that not only do you become a better player on and off the field, but a better more rounded person.<br />
Ok I'm going to end it there, I can seriously write for hours and days on the significance of different related topics on the whole 'Life After Rugby' and 'Educate Yourself First' kinda idea...but I think you guys get the idea.<br />
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P.S. Vote for me! Mayor Of Durban! Here's my election poster...You like?<br />
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</div>All the best<br />
SkeatoAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-12235468746408480782011-09-29T02:12:00.000-07:002011-09-29T02:12:07.270-07:00#NationalBraaiDAyIt was #NationalBraaiDay just last weekend, and I have no doubt that not only were numerous fires lit up across the country, but a few hearty brews were enjoyed at the same time.<br />
For those of you not familiar with a real South African 'Braai'...<b>what the hell is wrong with you</b>??!!!<br />
Oh sorry perhaps you prefer the term 'Barbeque'<br />
Either way its basically one of the most intrinsic elements to South African culture you could find. And although the details may change depending on your demographic and preference the basics shall forever remain the same: Guys standing around a fire with a drink or two (or three) in hand and the ladies putting together the <i>accoutrement </i>away from the boys.<br />
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Well for myself and @KeeganDaniel Saturday's National Braai day meant joining the ever elusive and eloquent (read: full of BS) Dan Nicholl and Jan Braai (the Nation's Nelson Mandela of all things Braai) for a completely vegetarian meal hosted at Bar-Ba-Coa in Umhlanga.<br />
A spread you can not even imagine! Had to take a few tablets of rat poison when i got home just to thin my blood out abit after all that red meat!<br />
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It was a truly beautiful site arriving to welcoming smiles and a table full of all the best meat and drink one could ever hope for. I felt like one of Peter Pan's lost boys in the film 'Hook', didn't need any imagination though.<br />
Oh yeah and there was this other guy there...you may remember him Craig Davidson?<br />
Yeah me neither.<br />
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One of the highlights must have been the post feast <i>digestif </i>which consisted of being put through our paces via a beautiful Director's Reserve <b>KlipDrift</b><i> </i>20year old. Our host and Bar-Ba-Coa international man of mystery Mike serving as guru and educator to a bunch of uncultured rugby players.<br />
(Dan doesn't play rugby but judging from the frame he has been so diligently working at (and achieving) over the last few years, the front row beckons)<br />
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Anyhoo...Hope you all had an amazing weekend, and great few days.<br />
Chat soon<br />
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<i><br />
</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6382310919141746785.post-41324551344810841642011-09-22T12:29:00.000-07:002011-09-22T12:29:55.226-07:00Good times in Cato!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ahhhh the sweet taste of victory! That was what my Wednesday shooting Clay Pigeons and generally messing around was all about...Myself, Craig Burden, Ryan Kankowski and Dale Chadwick made the trip. Of course we needed to get there, its located in Cato Ridge after all, bout 30 mins outside of Durban, and SMG Durban was kind enough to lend us an X3 for our trip up (below)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth0L1XBdbUx2eptyU1xSUwiR9yiJaav_hltHaGhmZyXbrvV-0pTTS_mg_N7By-ksLYE07-6OEGmkPryyNvTFI4V5AhW_Lrk71_LIE-scRV3FofuJhvYrmX1PI6gOxUkT4irqMxNR2cSZC/s1600/Skeate+BMW+SMG+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth0L1XBdbUx2eptyU1xSUwiR9yiJaav_hltHaGhmZyXbrvV-0pTTS_mg_N7By-ksLYE07-6OEGmkPryyNvTFI4V5AhW_Lrk71_LIE-scRV3FofuJhvYrmX1PI6gOxUkT4irqMxNR2cSZC/s640/Skeate+BMW+SMG+Day.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><br />
Between Ryan Kankowski and Craig Burden arguing like old women over who was going to drive I didn't even get a chance to sit behind the wheel. But being chauffeured around has its pros. You should see those two, you'd swear they've been married for 50 years!<br />
I did get my revenge though, when myself and Chadwick teamed up to dominate the old couple in the clay pigeon shoot. Admittedly Kanki did have a disability (no not mental, OK slightly mental) in the form of a broken thumb, but no excuses for Burden. All talk and no action that guy, his girlfriend must find that particular habit quite frustrating.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I would be amiss if I did not admit to myself and Dale losing the archery segment of our mini olympics. My excuse being that the bows we were using were no where even close to being big enough...think they were bought in a lucky packet or a cereal box or something! And yes a bad workman blames his tools. Burden used the chance to whip out and show off his fancy pantsy compound Hoyt bow. What a nerd.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YTabJARtNlGq4ZboPeVVwDwltAKUBeNeB7mKDpjQxk404P0jR4Cb2JgX5-Y4CuTMdyH2ZMXGqjA7tZ_18YDehfrfKsDYIUjPcC6YA1DQLR1uWI5OUAr9kXn7SXpvZHsSHzBa4-gyKKyx/s1600/Sharks+Archery+03++c2011+Howard+Cleland+Sharks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YTabJARtNlGq4ZboPeVVwDwltAKUBeNeB7mKDpjQxk404P0jR4Cb2JgX5-Y4CuTMdyH2ZMXGqjA7tZ_18YDehfrfKsDYIUjPcC6YA1DQLR1uWI5OUAr9kXn7SXpvZHsSHzBa4-gyKKyx/s400/Sharks+Archery+03++c2011+Howard+Cleland+Sharks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh yeah and there may have been a little 4x4 racing at the end...hehehe</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyhoo...hope you all keep well, till next time! </div><div style="text-align: left;">All the best</div><div style="text-align: left;">Skeato</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11105569502023975198noreply@blogger.com0