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Because it Had to be Said posted on August 21, 2009 - 2:32pm

Mood: Still-gone mood[Toot!] Index: 9.2Communism Bit: OffLocation: EntebbeNow, I don’t like the fact that Nev’s mug is grinning at me from the bottom-left corner. Emblems that aspire to universalism should be impersonal; did you learn nothing about propaganda from the good Commies of yester-century? Clown Also, it is too American—especially when no irony or puns are intended—to say “I am Ugandan”. I say, in correct grammar, “I am a Ugandan”. But it is a worthy emblem, nonetheless, and I shall put it on me blog. Even on pain of having to break my vow of silence and blog-celibacy. Because it had to be said.Nev posted it here. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take care of those who, like me, have roundly renounced tribe completely. It only takes care of those who realise that, the past being irreversible, tribe should be secondary to national identity. They retain tribe, but relegate its importance. These, too, are kin, and are equally right (though different from one like myself).

Exeunt posted on January 27, 2009 - 4:03pm

Mood: Leaving mood[Toot!] Index: 0.0001Communism Bit: OffLocation: EntebbeI’m going away. I won’t be posting on this blog any more. Yes, clapping and ululating is allowed. Enjoy yourselves. Most of my victims don’t—didn’t—outlive me.The weblogs will have more air, more signal, less noise. And now, you will be able to discuss amongst yourselves without having to watch for that noisy thing that shows up at the party and urinates in your comment boxes, letting the spirits talk through him. Incoherence has lost, verbosity is vanquished.You should have picked up a signal from the first paragraph of the previous post. And I’ve come to the realisation that these status thingies, like Twitter, came after the weblog, but many bloggers keep a status thingy (be it at Facebook) and a blog. Of course, went my mind, enligtened, It’s because they serve a different purpose!

Pensées posted on January 18, 2009 - 5:59pm

Mood: Thoughtful mood[Toot!] Index: 6.66666666666666666666666Communism Bit: OnLocation: Entebbe.st {font-size: smaller;} .caps {font-family: copperplate gothic light;}This week, for the first time in really long, I put pen to paper and drew a picture. I really, really, really hate how the other concerns of life have taken away from other things that are at least as important as having bread on my table. I no longer draw, I no longer write, I no longer stop to take the luxury of thinking about pointless puzzles. On this blog, when was the last time I posted a picture? Ah, this post. And the last time I posted a story for the sake of telling a story? Ah, this one. Strange, considering that this blog was founded on the high principle of mixing expressive art (drawing, writing, philosophy, et cetera) with the Communist Way. I’ve lost the plot.

Outsanity posted on January 12, 2009 - 9:57am

Mood: outsane mood[Toot!] Index: 3.2Communism Bit: OnLocation: Entebbe.caps {font-family: copperplate gothic light;}Girls, here’s something for you. There is this disease, called Grave’s Disease. The chances are low-ish that you’ll get it. But the reason I’m warning here is because I’m yet to hear of a more-deforming disease that is almost exclusively for girls. As in, maybe it’s not as bad as an amputation (at the neck, for example), but it is not easy to detect it, yet it damages in style. Okay, it’s easy to detect, but you’ll not know what you are detecting. You’ll think you’re just tired, yet your eyes are about to pop out of your head and dangle on a string of nerve.See, if you ever get shaky hands and legs, and they just shake on their own ... And your thyroid (the thing slightly below your Adam’s Apple—Eve’s, in your case) starts to swell ...And your sight is not so clear anymore ...

Rantdom Thuroggits posted on January 6, 2009 - 11:35am

Mood: Yarrow mood[Toot!] Index: 3.2Communism Bit: OffLocation: EntebbeTerrible, terrible things have been happening in my world. For example, you know your guitar skills are terrifying when you have to chase your audience. Not just that: I was shouting “Only one verse! Just the first one! Okay, okay, only the opening lick. I’ve practiced since last time, I swear!” Now, I know I lost a string, but still.Anyway, problem is that when you hold the guitar, people want to hear a Jimi Hendrix. At least I know Hendrix didn’t play the adungu. Gon’ practice.Before I forget, go to Lulu's crib and vote already.Next random observation: buy land or a house today. If you can afford it, you lucky bastard, buy it. See, Uganda’s population is young. 50% is under fifteen years of age. So, whatever property costs now, it will cost twice as much in about fifteen years (due to increased demand). That’s the conservative estimate. If you factor in increasing wealth (aka.

Mallards, Et Cetera posted on December 22, 2008 - 7:51pm

Mood: Mersenne-twister mood[Toot!] Index: 0.5Communism Bit: OffLocation: Entebbe.sf {font-family: "copperplate gothic light"}The water-friendly birds of Europe started arriving recently. As always, the clearest signal is with the mallard ducks. I think migratory birds are an inspirational symbol, and if I had to pick one thing that most-embodies hope, I’d choose the migratory bird. It would also be my symbol for luxury: if it gets cold Up There, head Down There.Unfortunately, the humans Up There also figured out how to fly to Down Here when it gets cold Up There. As a result, there is a band of chain-smoking Greeks who are taking over my spot at the lake. Damn it. I own that place! The Greeks, they won’t leave anything alone, not even the markers I’m using to denote these points. On to ????, then.How to deal with the urge to get a pet monkey? Seriously.The party was off the hook, on Saturday. I’d link to a blog post that says more, but (unfortunately) it has pictures of me.

War Songs posted on December 14, 2008 - 12:24pm

Mood: Military-riddim mood[Toot!] Index: 0.00001Communism Bit: OnLocation: Entebbe.sf {font-family: "copperplate gothic light";}I’m listening to a song that is painting grim, pale images against my frontal lobes. (I have them, the frontal lobes, even though evidence is lacking.) Prospekts March is quite strong as a song. War poetry—in general, war art—grabs my mind and takes it prisoner. Coldplay, woo-hoo! Guy’s bass guitar is like a child who cries with eyes wide open: loud, offensively-emotional, and not ashamed of it. There is a line there that makes me think the song should be played on a slow-motion version of the last moments of El Ché. Here I lie on my own in a separate sky, here I lie on my own in a separate sky. I don’t wanna die on my own here tonight, but here I lie on my own in a separate sky.

AIDS Day Posts Round-up to You, Noise to Me Critics posted on December 6, 2008 - 3:51pm

Mood: Meta-critical mood[Toot!] Index: 3.3333Communism Bit: OffLocation: Entebbe.sf {font-family: copperplate gothic light;} .revdivider {border: solid #f00 1pt; width: 50%;} The 1st of December was World AIDS Day, and I could have passed out with pride, when I went checking the Ugandan blogging scene. I think I don’t normally know how serious/important something is until I read about it in the first person. The presonal character of this year’s blog posts on the World AIDS Day theme was nearly tear-jerking. Okay, not just nearly. I’ll list them, in no particular order.The earliest post I saw on the issue came a whole week earlier. Hajj Zack, that guy who shows up every now and then and writes some cuneiform stuff where his name should be Surprise); he wrote Storm’s Eye. Urging like a battlefield colonel, “What are you doing to stop HIV/AIDS?

The Mathematics and Mechanics of HIV Infection posted on November 30, 2008 - 8:47am

Mood: Actvist mood[Toot!] Index: 5.2Communism Bit: OffLocation: Entebbe.sf {font-family: copperplate gothic light}It’s HIV/AIDS day this Monday. You’re reading my post on the pertinent topic du jour.There was this teacher of mine, in Primary School, who used to drive through the school field when he left his home. The point, I still believe, was so everybody would see him and his car go by. He was one of only a few people in that school who actually owned a car. And then, one day, he walked by. Compelled by his broken car to walk, and incapable of inventing a new route from home, lest everybody know he is hiding the fact that his car is broken. We chuckled, when he pased my P2 class for the like-tenth time. O, how the mighty have fallen! Then he hit the fortieth time of walking, and it ceased to be funny.I had seen a band of mechanics bent into the car for a number of days, before they finally gave up on it and left it there.

Dog posted on November 22, 2008 - 11:40am

Mood: Do(d)gy mood[Toot!] Index: 0.2Communism Bit: OffLocation: EntebbeAs penance for the length of the last post, I'll make this short. But I'm still up to my jaws in bile, so I'll spit yet. At dogs, this time.They lie to you when they tell you dogs don't forget. I went to that gate yesterday, and it just barked at me. Vicious barking, with intention to rip me jugular out.Wasn't it I who recognised its mother dead by the roadside? Wasn't it I who, while its mother's blood still flowed and cars still stopped to look at the mangled dog body, initiated a plan to save the stray family's puppies?Wasn't it my brother and I who carried the little puppies and distributed them to families? Wasn't it I who kept it (with Scooby as the working name) for the few days when it had nobody to take it in? Didn't I give it off my own plate until we threw it into that same gate?