Marwinsing's artwork 'n stuff

Interesting Orwell vs Huxley infographic (click to enlarge)

2012-01-28T17:38:00.001Z

(original large image url)

Surf Rage - same like road rage but on the beach (this deserves a "LOL!" hi hi hi hi...)

2012-01-27T09:16:00.001Z

Just another day at D"BAR from NATTY on Vimeo.

Meet my long-lost cuzzie (click image for more) …all 190-million years of him/her/it

2012-01-25T21:19:00.001Z

The Saga of Karbuncus (Part I)

2012-01-25T19:00:00.001Z

"It's the birds in the trees who greet me each morning whom I worship because they bring joy to my heart."

"Just repeat that," she asked him, flicking her soft, silky, blonde hair off her brow whilst tilting her finely-sculpted face ever-so slightly as if in curiosity.

"It's the birds in the trees who greet me each morning whom I worship because they bring joy to my heart."

"Oh - and why haven't got a, you know, a real bird - you know, the ones you can... fuck and talk to?"

"Because ‘y’ is a crooked letter and you can't make it straight."

"Ugh come on man... quit the crap and tell me!" She probed again, only this time it was more like a demand.

"I'll tell you later."

* * *

Karbuncus then took a slug of his beer, plonked the empty glass down on the bar-counter and left the busy, smoke-filled room.

(to be continued)

Some retinal relief

2012-01-25T17:05:00.001Z

Two paper mache trays/plates painted

2012-01-23T23:39:00.001Z

(lousy night-time flash pics carelessly ligatured in Photoshop hence the slice in her hair)

A sunny Friday afternoon waffle (served with the usual dollop of cow turd)

2012-01-20T13:58:00.001Z

Back the day when we wuz in the culling biz we wuz barely outta our teens, young and able coppers in camou's and blue uniforms. And funnily enough, last night I had a dream and in that dream my soul was transposed into my late dog Bosco's body. Bosco was a feisty cross-staffie/alsatian. We (me, with my soul inside the dog's body) were rolling around in a white bath tub wrestling with a shark with its fins and tail and body flapping frenetically and the shark had us by the hind legs and was hacking at us whilst we were going for the shark's tail and there was this spinning orgy of blood, a mess of dog fur and flesh and the snapping, gyrating shark. There was no water in the bath, just blood smeared all over the enamel bath surface. When I woke up relieved it was only a dream it dawned upon me that the only allegiances we ought to have are to those of the nuances of our sub-consciousnesses.

Our conscious minds often lie to us even at the best of times but those frequency signals, those subtle vibrations we're receiving at any given hour from deep inside our bodies, they don't lie. Mind and body are one, they're actually both chemical at the end of the day. Your thoughts are chemical. Astral travellers are bullshit dreamers.

I think that's what they mean when they talk of intelligent people operating on higher frequency levels. I mean, I hate the thought of working for the corporation (any corporation) and this has cost me dearly from a material and social (status) point of view and made me my fair share of enemies but have I any regrets about this choice? No. The only job I ever really enjoyed was that brief spell a few years back working for the circuses in Britain, besides that I've never really enjoyed a job because attached to the job was always the politics of people crap. Waste of time. And running my business way back then for those twelve years was for the most part hell. I'm not really a teamster or team leader, I work alone. At least with the circuses when there were disputes we sorted them out quickly and efficiently with the fists. We always went to sleep in peace, no job worries, only love and passion for what we did and the people we worked with, our buds. And every day was different, you never got bored. We hopped from town-to-town and city-to-city doing our shit, seeing new places, meeting new faces and lots of pretty women. But alas, my marching orders came when things went a bit too far between me and Barney, my squad leader. We remained mates afterwards though and I still got invited to the busker parties as ‘special guest-of-honour’. In a corporation if you klapped your boss or fellow staff member you'd be dispatched off to a leper colony but in the circuses nobody cared because everybody was their own god but still answerable to the squad leader. You knew you were going to get paid (some time) you had a caravan as your mansion and no debt, no monthly mortgages or medical aid but the job was healthy because you worked your arse off and had fun. The only guys who ever got sick were those blokes who never wore condoms. Like poor old nineteen-year-old Stevie my caravan mate, he was slamming a sixteen-year-old blonde hottie from his home town Hartlepool and the poor bugger got the clap so they eventually sent him back much to my relief (I later missed his company though) because our bunks were only three feet apart. I was petrified that the 'orrible nunus would crawl my way from Steve's bunk at night whilst he was passed out snoring away. And probably scratching.

So you either play or pray. The concept of Universal Mind is bullshit. It can only be so. Bullshit is an essential part of what makes the Universe tick over and Mind is what processes it. Mind is the mixer/blender/milker/shaker. The anus is located inside the brain. Think. Whoops, don’t! Be. Mind is attached to body and that's it. Sure, mind can project and connect, but mind owes allegiance only to body. So when you die, you can be rest assured that all your silly human-construct thoughts and feelings will die with you too, you will not be reincarnated as Hugh Hefner II, you will not go to Heaven or Hell, no virgins or raptures for you buddy, because those frequency signals that we call mind will die with the body (remember: flesh and blood and bone and all those wave frequencies are generated and maintained ultimately by the pace-maker) and when that says howzit and shuts down you will be in a dreamless state, hanging out with the moles as ready-to-serve canned maggot meal. That's how you will serve the universe when you're dead and gone. Nice, eh? As punishment for the all pomp and ceremony you thought you were living as a human life, well I'm telling you you are nothing: Nature don't give one stuff for you my china. So you can dream on about your infinite days because I'm telling you when you're dead you're dead it's overs-kadovers. Hi-hi! Now ain't that sweet? So you better make the most of what you've got whilst you're alive and kicking and if for you that means traffic jams and slaving away for the corporation that's your indaba not mine. Me, I have my plans and I'm living them to the fullest right here right now.

As Frank Sinatra used to swoon to the mobs, "I did it my way." (more art coming up soon)

Spot the three stooges (and win an old beat out Datsun 120Y panel van)

2012-01-19T20:26:00.001Z

Hooraahhh!!!

2012-01-18T09:59:00.001Z

It just hit me that the new year began.

So to celebrate I grew a red mullet, a bokbaard (that’s a goatie) attachment (am keeping that natural) and now wear black lipstick and black nail polish to compliment my thick, dark and frown-furled eyebrows. And I now plat the hairs on my lower back and keep them waxed upward to look like a Doberman’s stump-tail. And I strut around the backyard on all fours with ears clipped on alert mode, in my dirty pale blue boxer shorts replete with smelly sweaty hairy armpits snarling, pacing… pacing… for there is much to do – gotta do this gotta do that. Gotta feed the finches damn! Darn the poor finches haven’t had their birdseed for AT LEAST THREE DAYS! Woof!!! I’m now the neighbourhood’s local Worry Consultant. Bail a wayward tenant out here, console a concierge there… two Sunday nights ago a weirdo arrived at my doorstep and asked me to give him a blowjob. I kid you not. I thought I’d moved into SWPL country, well I have but see there are infiltrators… damn. Gotta keep the trash at bay and look forwards ahead to the tunnel-end. I see some of my old mates picked up weird company along the way whilst I was gone all these years… hmm…

Voorwaards! Avante!! (huh?) Woof.

The birds are circling so that means there’s gonna be rain this afternoon and I ain’t walking to the mall so the poor finches will just have to wait, go on a temporary bird diet of whatever. Nibble on cardboard guys? Shame. Tough. Meantime my kennel’s piling up with junk and stuff and soon the cardboard boxes and newspapers is gonna throw me outta my bed darn! And the paper mache flour? That stuff sticks like crazy. Yeah, goodie…!

Dash it. I just don’t know where to start. Ah! Coffee… it’s finished and klaar (dog biscuits? - oh hell me no go walkies to mall today). So I guess it’ll just have to be Five Roses Earl Grey Cat’s Piss for the next twenty fours hours… aargh yuck gross man!

Update: so I went walkies to the mall but didn’t bother about the birdseed, so they can eat Sasko’s Low GI Oats and Honey flavour white loaf bread. Else go on diet.

Seen in Satan’s kitchen (who’s he?)

2012-01-18T01:25:00.001Z

Jim… where are you? Calling Jim calling Jim come in… (damn – where’s my fellow Apostate?)

To the left, next to the fellow you met unclad just the other day, sits Zanzi. Zanzi is as old as I am (that’s some small change just over half a century) and Zanzi is about the only keepsake of sentimental value that the filth and the slime that we sometimes refer to as humanity have not managed to separate from me. Zanzi was a gift from an unknown aunt (don’t know who she was, my memory don’t go back that far) that I received when I was two week old brat in-the-making.

Yeah, I’m a misanthropic apostate.

Jim?

You see, by my books you get two kinds of humanity.

You get The Apostates (that’s us the faithless, who by inference, or, via graduation from The School of Hard Knocks, evolve into embittered misanthropists or variants thereof) then you get the filth and the slime.

Which of the two are you?

(footnote: three’s the lucky number in my army and in my army we are three – I, the Tokkaloshe Man, run the show and am self-appointed Field Marshall; the dude on the trunk was a former vicar who sort of acts as spiritual chaplain and he also overseas all intelligence activities; and Zanzi’s our foot-soldier, he’s the? – he’s the reconnaissance guy who does the dirty work and together we make a fine team!)

Bonus link: Great Books For Men – a.k.a The Chateau’s resident genius pet troll and well-worth a visit if you think like us. Good night. Err, morning.

For your listening pleasure... Deutsch Nepal - "Tintomara"

2012-01-17T18:45:00.001Z

Insane Teahupoo! (HUGE sahloets to those who rode)

2012-01-13T20:43:00.001Z

(to quote)

This day at Teahupoo- Aug 27th 2011 during the Billabong Pro waiting period is what many are calling the biggest and gnarliest Teahupoo ever ridden. Chris Bryan was fortunate enough to be there working for Billabong on a day that will go down in the history of big wave surfing. The French Navy labeled this day a double code red prohibiting and threatening to arrest anyone that entered the water. Kelly Slater described the day by saying "witnessing this was a draining feeling being terrified for other people's lives all day long, it's life or death. Letting go of that rope one time can change your life and not many people will ever experience that in their life."

All images where shot by Chris Bryan using the Phantom HD Gold camera. To see more of Chris' work check out his website. WWW.CHRISBRYANFILMS.COM
Music: Lower Your Eyelids to Die with the Sun' by M83.
by Chris Bryan

Source:

Update: I’ve gotten my paws on a second video off the Billabong site from the same swell (but of the 29th Aug?) …anyway, two different perspectives of an epic surf session that will go down in history for some time to come. Miraculously there were no deaths. And there was a woman (two gals?) surfing amongst the lads too. She suffered a bad wipe out and burst an ear drum but more comments and feedback from those were there on the Billabong site. Damn, you can just feel the energy out there, the adrenalin, whew, those folks, big guts + lots of know-how + supreme fitness + comradie + The Right Equipment = “I survived MASSIVE, UGLY, GNARLY Teahupoo!”

Well done! Here’s the second vid:

There is also a full write up of the whole session, the comp (winner was Kelly Slater) and a superb gallery of photos and other short videos on the VonZipper website. Epic stuff. And me: it’s three in the morning, I’m just sitting here like a toad on a Jo’burg mine dump, scoffing mah cheese & pro-vita biskies and slurping mah coffee and dreaming of big ocean blue. Whatever. Boo-hoo.

Early results of my forays into papiere mache

2012-01-13T15:31:00.001Z

No offence, the captions are just me talking to myself. I love this shit! First you build an armature out of junk (the skull is made from an old light bulb) then you take some flour and a pot of water, rip up a pile of old newspapers (the final clay coating is a fine toilet paper pulp mix) mash the whole damn lot up and hey presto! You got Marwinsing sitting on a trunk of treasures with fag in hand (ja, my confession: I started smoking the Drum again these Xmas hols) pointing out yonder towards the Abyss of No Return... but it's all fun 'n games now innit children? "Y'nah??" (as a recent ex would say, second question mark my add - as I normally couldn't fathom out what the hell what she was going on about anyway) and so the story unfolds...

* * *

Meanwhile back at the ranch:

What’s Julius Malema been up to lately?

"Domestic workers get raped in the bedrooms of the baas & the madam. They're silent because they'll loose their job."

"Mandela said letters to the Queen doesn't help. Take up the weapon. Ideas Is not gonna bring economic freedom."

"We don't want to drive whites into the sea. In 10 years we want white domestic workers."

And his buddy Rev. Kemo Waters?

"It's sad that the only time a black man is taken seriously is when he calls for blood... Racism isn't important till the victim gets mad"

"The only way to end racism is to kill a material number of whites."

So this is how we kick our New Year off Whitey? TKB. Come. I’m waiting.

Living proof of how globalists hate the rest of humanity

2012-01-12T01:25:00.001Z

This Walmart ad is beyond spooky – is this how they try to scare customers away?

White-hating UCT academic pushes for more discrimination policies against S.A white youth

2012-01-10T09:23:00.001Z

(left) Dr. Max Price, University of Cape Town Vice-Chancellor and principal.

Yesterday black students over-eager to get enrolled and accepted into the University of Johannesburg stampeded that institution’s entrances where a young black female was killed in the process and seventeen others were dispatched off to hospital with injuries. But this white-hating clown still wants discriminatory affirmative action policies to be instated against civilised, capable and qualified young white South African enrollees.

My gosh, I wonder why?

(in the comments of the offending article Quo Vadis gives this bouffant-haired, pasty-faced piece of politically-correct liberal academic filth (above) a couple of tight slaps across the face with a mixture of sound common sense and cold fact – nice!)

The Church of Nick Vujicic

2012-01-09T19:12:00.001Z

I like this guy. He’s got no limb-bits or limits. That takes a big heart and big guts. Plus he’s got a hot chick, a can-do attitude and he’s making a fortune out of the suckers in the God industry. You rock, Nick! Now there’s Serbian-Slav Aussie attitude for you.

Marobnoxsing's artwork and stuff

2012-01-06T09:31:00.001Z

I'm thinking of changing the blog name from Marwinsing's artwork and stuff to Marobnoxsing's artwork and stuff. Why? Because I can… AND… also because I'm thinking of changing my middle man from Winston to Obnoxious. Why? Because I am. Fifty-two years of strolling this planet and I'm still trying to cut my teeth upon that remarkably deft science otherwise known as Social Intelligence. Ahh... I know where it comes from! It's in the genes! Eh Dad? Sometimes I fantasize about just buzzing around like a social insect, flitting around his ear, her breast, you know, "G'day mate? Everything going well today? Jolly good jolly good... and you Sheilah?? Tasty nipple you got there... hmm? ...BZZTT!!!"

"Einah!!! Bloody mosquito's back - oh for this this pesky summer weather..." *KLAP!*

(see? There I go again, blew it!)

Shackleton The Boss, his lads, and other Great Southern Explorers (click image for lovely story)

2012-01-05T20:57:00.001Z

Nimrod Expedition Partipicants: (from left to right) Frank Wild, Sir Ernest Shackleton, Eric Marshall and Jameson Adams.

A cool, authentic soundtrack of Sir Ernest Shackleton (recorded on an Edison Cyclinder, from 1910) speaking about their Nimrod Expedition (1907-1909) when they had to turn back when only 97 geographical miles away from the South Pole, due to lack of food... at that stage, still the furthest journey South ever made. The man he describes in the recording who narrowly escaped the crevasse fall was Frank Wild (in photo, left). Wild’s ashes were recently moved to South Georgia Island to be buried alongside The Boss.

Hey, Regular White Guy: the mainstream media hates you

2012-01-02T13:50:00.001Z

http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/12/23/us-usa-campaign-paul-plots-idUSTRE7BM03320111223

The above link contains all the evidence why they hate you and it’s spelt out loud and clear in plain and simple English. It's a news item from Reuters.com (the world's oldest and most established news agency) and it blatantly vilifies Ron Paul just like what they did four years ago. Take note who the writers of the article are, then imbibe the contents and come to your own conclusions.

Do you know what else, Regular White Guy? YOU ARE Ron Paul.

And here’s a New York Times hate article on Ron Paul mentioning his “right wing extremist” supporters who call out The Fed.

New art projects

2012-01-01T16:38:00.001Z

Within the week, 2012 will be in almost full-swing and I plan to take a few web projects to their completion before commencing on this next leg of the journey but for now I contemplate, I paint in my head, because I hear the paint calling. But experience has told me that frenetically dashing and daubing away ain't the way to go without a plan. And that plan will involve more than one pair of hands, and fortunately I have that extra pair of hands on hand in the form of a potential able assistant or employee. This is good, because an assistant can fulfil an important role in the whole process and the assistant will take some of the load off my shoulders and help me see the woods for trees. What if I said to you that my market is waiting for me to deliver but the problem is me and my product. Step number one is acknowledging this, step number is resolving it and step number three is implementing the solution into the task on hand. So this is where I stand, me against time, and this is really what the blog has been all about; a place where I can air my laundry for all the world to see, because I have commenters and allies who throw light on various situations, people like Ingrid and Jim and others. The party is over, and after cleaning up I want to get my hands into some papier-mâché prototyping which hopefully will throw some bearing on as to where we're going this year with the paint.

Happy New Year All!

2012-01-01T15:27:00.001Z

The last few days saw me Facebooking with pals on matters both light and dark, the jokes and beer flowed with brief interludes of a bit of the old Shat-O-Red... then last night I joined my pals up the road at O'Hagans pub where a festive New Year's was had by all. Or most, at least. I behaved myself pretty well, stuck to the beer and had a merry time meeting new folks then later on hung out in the corner quite close to where the band was playing (lekker 80s music!) and things built up to a crescendo as midnight came on.

And there were pink flamingoes everywhere! I wasn’t operating but played more the part of the genial clown. Hey! A young lady even came up to me thinking I was the bouncer and asked for stomach medicine for her mum who, to me, looked like she was in a perfect bill of health. She had a grin from ear to ear on her! That’s NW Jozi for you. It’s a happy middle-class SWPL community and that’s fine with me.

We rah-rah-rah'ed on for a while longer and I did a well-disciplined duck at about one which I thought was pretty good.

Got home and onto the interweb whence, in a merry state and with frequent signal cuts, managed to shove up a few of my favourite old tracks for you in the posts below. Not everyone’s cuppa tea I know, but just bear with us…

The imagery accompanying the MP3s are not intended to shock, titillate or be obscene but I just happen to find them to be appropriate to the music. The Nunsploitation number is actually off the official CD cover. Ardent acolytes to the harsh industrial/martial/noise/dark ambient music genre I'm sure would agree that almost anything goes here. Some of us who chose to walk the more wayward foothills in life just think this to be normal stuff so please don't hold it against me.

Have good one! (now to just get rid of this fly on my monitor dash ~*klap!*~ gotcha…)

Happy New Year: Weez goin’ to the movies! [it’s either full-screen or yooz get no popcorn]

2012-01-01T03:57:00.001Z

Happy New Year: A few of Marwinsing’s Golden Oldies… “headphones on… volume up!”

2012-01-01T01:41:00.001Z

Fir§t Law (from Terrorforming, 2008): Track 07 - Clad In The Veil Of Self-deception (Happily Ever After) released by Loki Foundation.

G. Edward Griffin: The Collectivist Conspiracy

2012-01-01T01:01:00.001Z

Wavescape Film Festival Madness…

2011-12-10T10:30:00.001Z

Zapiro’s surfboard which I think fetched the top price on the auction at R41 000,00!

Full story here.

LOW by Mytrip

2011-12-05T21:23:00.001Z

Low by Mytrip

Some very nice but obscure Dark Ambient sounds from the Bulgarian DJ a.k.a Mytrip. You'll find other material of his on the Kalpamantra label and with Martin Lukanov on the Polish Abandonment netlabel.

Me I like!

Still Chasing the Mark Mathews Phenomenum

2011-12-04T15:15:00.001Z

Mark Mathews Profile from markmathews on Vimeo.

Heh-heh… I LOVE this guy…

2011-12-02T18:07:00.001Z

But egalitarians and the SWPL industrial complex know that these softening words cannot contain the horrible, unrelenting, monstrous truth that stalks every cooing syllable. IQ is FUCKING HUGELY IMPORTANT to your chance to live a happy, successful life filled with wonder and glee and gadgets and crime-free neighborhoods in a modern, technofantastical, information-highwayed, cognitively stratifying first world Western nation.

(Chateau Heartiste)

New website project in progress

2011-12-01T19:28:00.001Z

Over here.

I appended the structural design to a sub-folder on Isa’s website address this morning.

The pages are scarcely populated at this early stage but they will soon be adorned with exquisite jewellery photographs.

Then I shall have to semanticise the code and migrate the site to its own domain www.schwartzjewellers.com and take the existing site down.

A fresh Wordpress overhaul.

Bribes, bribes, bribes and ANC state secrets: Mick and Mac thrash it out over The Secrecy Act

2011-11-25T14:19:00.001Z

Black Tuesday: Today the ANC will vote to try to slit your larnyx and rip out your Adam’s apple

2011-11-22T08:06:00.001Z

Covering up corruption is not the primary intention of the so-called secrecy Bill -- it includes clauses that criminalise its misuse just to avoid embarrassment -- but without the means to demonstrate that abuse, the Protection of State Information Bill will be the wall behind which much evil is hidden.

Anyone who leaks a secret, anyone who takes possession of a secret and anyone who publishes a secret will go to jail, without the option of a fine -- potentially for up to 25 years. Motivation will be no mitigation.

Source: The Mail & Guardian.

THIS ANC GOVERNMENT ARE A DEN OF THIEVES LOOTING THIS COUNTRY’S COFFERS, BLATANTLY ABUSING POWER

Those who have been following the Mac Maharaj Arms Deal Scandal will note the strange timing of all this; you don’t even have to look deep; the lies and deception that the ANC uses to bluff the largely-gullible South African public are evident for all to see. The secrets are no longer secrets so the only thing the ANC can do now to shut you all up is threaten you with a lifelong jail sentence. Easy-peezy. Shut up else go down. It’s just an extension of the same modus operandi they’ve been using since they came into power, the same modus operandi that they’ve always used and we are now well into the throws of an abusive dictatorship that is no different (except ours is larger in gravity and scale) to any of the others that Africa has seen since the colonial powers left. Look north to Zimbabwe and further upwards to the Congo, Nigeria, Sudan; look West to Angola; look east to Mocambique, Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania. All corrupt, drained and dried up, abused. Is it because that by and large civilised governments are just not meant for Africa? Perhaps. Maybe Africa needs to revert back to tribal feudalism: no borders, no governments, no nothing. Simple survival of the fittest. Problem: whitey will go down first because he’s too religious, too honest and too caring for everyone else but himself. Laws and oaths and rules are meaningless to Africa. Western-created political systems for Africa are merely tools to be abused and broken, devices for hood-winking the ignorant proles and political opposition and if you don’t go along with the status quo you just get to spend the rest of your life in an African prison. Cool hey!? So today you’ve got your Black Tuesday, today will be a test as to how smart this country is and I’m not holding my hopes up too high for the outcome.

* * *

So to close,

Below, here's a pretty little diagram to show you the Four Steps of Ideological Subversion: How to Brainwash a Nation

These steps are:

Demoralize << YOU ARE...
Destabilization << SOMEWHERE BETWEEN...
Crisis << HERE AND HERE... YOU LIKE?
Normalise {tomorrow the ANC will give you this - any bets?}

Nice, hey? You pay your hard-earned tax monies to the ANC and in return they play mind games with your head.

The Mind Mechanics of arch-criminal communist Mac Maharaj

2011-11-19T20:07:00.001Z

This sleazy Indian politician, up to his neck in grime and graft over the Arms Deal and various other scams, knows which litigation attorneys to use when a newspaper like the M&G come after him with solid evidence that he lied under oath to a former State intelligence agency.

Mac Maharaj's lawyers are BDK Attorneys, a 100% white legal firm based in Johannesburg. Here’s their staff compliment:

Partners:

Piet Du Plessis
Jannie Kruger
Rudi Krause
Eddie Classen

Consultants:

Ian Small-Smith
Johan Schaeffer

Professional Staff:

Elna Moolman
Stephan Janse van Rensburg
Jo Van Schalkwyk
Ulrich Roux

Mac Maharaj the good communist

Spot the darkie and win a Datsun. Clever hey? I'm fascinated how the official legal firm of this country's presidential spokesman managed to escape the A-A BEE B-BBEE tar brush. But I'm also fascinated by Mac Maharaj's shrewd strategy of pitting whites (white lawyers) against whites (the white M&G editor and his two white investigative journalists) to fight off the filth that he is and the criminal activity he’s been involved in, namely perjury, theft and corruption, amongst other things. This is one shrewd criminal and we can now understand why this country's chief criminal, Jacob Zuma, who is not so shrewd (as most former Zulu herd boys are wont not to be) uses him as his spokesman. You can be rest assured that Mac Maharaj has a quiver of attorney firms to use at his disposal and that this one was specifically chosen for the job because of its squeaky clean white racial profile. It’s all about strategy folks, in this dirty game of power and politics. And it’s also further proof that lawyers are dirt balls with no loyalties or allegiances to anyone but the money.

Mac Maharaj and his subtle methods of white racial demoralisation

Update: now Mac Maharaj has officially laid criminal charges against the M&G, or you could read it so: a firm of WHITE attorneys are leading criminal proceedings against a WHITE newspaper editor and two WHITE journalists who are just doing their job by exposing this criminal government (which is a matter of immense public interest) and ALL THIS HAS BEEN PROPAGATED BY A CORRUPT INDIAN CRIMINAL POLITICIAN. He even admits it quite openly to the gullible and unsuspecting South African public:

"Attorneys acting on behalf of Mac Maharaj, laid charges against Mr Sam Sole, Mr Stefaans Brümmer and the Mail & Guardian newspaper for contravening the provisions of section 41(6) of the National Prosecuting Act of 1998," Maharaj said in a statement on Saturday.

Communist brainwashing strategies are quite overt, as a former-Soviet KGB defector to the West Yuri Besmenov will tell you. So whitey, you choose: do you want to be paid slaves to this kind of scum (like BDK Attorneys are) or don’t you?

Pigeon 3

2011-11-13T14:23:00.001Z

Remember her from last week? – and the week before??

A groovy Sunday read (best read with an ice-cold fruity jug of Sangria on hand - click citation)

2011-11-13T11:48:00.001Z

Let me hazard a prophecy: Over the next century, a global network of Anglo-Saxon tribes, taking root among the scattered remnants of a once-great race, will set out to replant the explicitly ethnocentric Christian faith of the early Angelcynn (i.e: “kin of the Angles) Church in the lost soul of the American WASP.

Web = form follows function duh but you try telling 99% of the internet design world that…

2011-11-10T15:01:00.001Z

…and they’ll tell you you’re wrong; they’ll tell you that function follows form, or their design processes will.

(left) maybe a bit crazy but not so stupid - Meagan Fisher – smart-as-an-owl web designer “I like the way you think gal!” …hell, she even hangs out with the Happy Cog crew

Many designers are still stuck in the “lay it out in Photoshop then cut it up and drag it over to Dreamweaver” school of thinking and so are their clients because this is what they expect as they’re merely following Old School Graphic Design principles… wrong. It don’t work like that.

Having never had a computer lesson in my life (yeah I’m proud to say I’m totally self-taught and this is on going) but occasionally drawing cognisance to a thing called Common Sense, I always saw the internet as mark-up first with bells and whistles second. Why do you think they wrote HTML1.0 like they did? It’s all based on common sense. Content first, form second. You got no content, you got no form, only decor and the internet is not about decoration although good design is nice to see and interact with for a richer web experience innit? He who is mad thinks the whole world is mad but the more I learn and understand CSS3 and HTML5 and how they work together the more the whole thing makes sense to me so from now onwards I shall follow Meagan Fisher’s advice rigidly and make all my website mock-ups in mark-up. Not that I haven’t being doing so before, I just never knew any better and merely listened to what my gut told me. But in an upcoming and significant project my clients will be expecting static visuals nah nah nah nah it’ll be straight into CSS3 and extending from there so bye-bye static Photoshop JPEGs hello straight-up Dreamweaver CSS3. Nice to know my ol’ gut told me right. Again.

Quote of the week

2011-11-06T14:00:00.001Z

Most ADVICE is not the result of people thinking about YOUR problem; it comes from the IMAGE those people want to project of THEMSELVES

(anonymous)

It’s not the first time you’ve heard me preach against these advisers and consultants

They’re everywhere. They’re hiding underneath your bed, they’re on your telly, they’re inside your Kreepy-Krauly, hell, they’ll even phone you out of the blue, these complete strangers, and whisper into your ear “what you must know” in order to project these benevolent images of themselves. Beware-pasop.

A good client, friend and associate of mine had enough integrity to report back to me of a stranger doing precisely this to her, as well as to my own family – a malicious caller and past friend - who was unbeknownst to both my client/friend and to my family. Central to this is the question of motive. Most well-intending and well-receiving people might overlook that one motive of all motives so commonly found in the human condition, the motive of malice. Yes, many forms of advice indeed hold malicious intent from the part of the adviser as one of the central tenets for the “free advice-giving”. Malice as a by-product of jealousy resulting from perhaps a deeply-cultivated hatred as by-product of some long-borne, deep-rooted feeling of psychological inadequacy resident inside the adviser as a soul, or human being, or creature. But you get the picture. Keep this in mind next time you receive weird advice that doesn’t quite gel. Finally, when your radar screens go *bleep* upon your next encounter with an “adviser” just apply the mind fast-forward/rewind technique as he/she/it spews forth its evil garbage masquerading as pearls of wisdom. Learn to cross-analyse off-the-fly what you’re hearing. Attempt to remain emotionally neutral or detached to the adviser’s revelations.

To close this post, here’s a painting below that I did four years back which may illustrate more concisely what I’m trying to get at. (A private joke: I’ve often said to myself that my paintings and creations predict or foresee certain things way before they take place and I will stand by that one; else they merely repeat themselves, but the same dictum always seems to hold true)

And FINALLY - am I advising you?

Nope. I’m just TELLING you…

(my same pal from last week but precisely one week later – same time; in the same spot; in the same tree – the picture was taken from a different angle just 20 minutes ago, and reduced/optimised in Photoshop for your viewing pleasure)

Hi-hi… more o’ dat dem de’re sheet! (yoo-hoo!)

2011-11-06T12:25:00.001Z

Who got dem scars on dem head to prove it? (ha-ha…)

Dah-dah-dee-dah-dah-dum…

2011-11-04T07:22:00.001Z

Local schoolteacher James McKean slips on the staircase and right into one of the greatest wipeouts of all time at Shipstern Bluff, Tasmania. A new contender for the Verizon Wipeout of the Year category at the 2012 Billabong XXL Global Big Wave Awards. Video by Tim Bonython. For more scary video see the event website at www.BillabongXXL.com

Meanwhile Ke11y is King of the waves, his 11th world championship win which makes him the hottest surfer to have ever lived.

If the market’s an amusement park then advertising’s a merry-go-round

2011-11-04T07:04:00.001Z

Philosopher Slavoj Zizek investigates the surprising ethical implications of charitable giving.

Thank you to Matt Rose for referencing me to this Slovenian thinker after picking up on these earlier KFC musings over here.

Funny Fikile Mbalula's fortieth burfday party

2011-11-01T08:44:00.001Z

I’m too broke to even buy another box of Kleenex’s to wipe my tears and have so resolved myself to laugh at everything Nu Surf Efrikan from now on. Now a former “not half-bad” Springbok rugby player, eMnr Joost van der Westhuizen, tentatively footsies his way into the world of Afro-bling – Surf Efrikan styley - and attends former ANC Yoof League leader (and now Sports Minister?) Fikile Mbalula’s 40th birthday bash (lovingly paid for by whitey) in order to perpetuate the falsity that all’s well amongst the races in South Africa.

Here they are, bruddahs UGH boeties… in-arms:

Escaping The Meltdown: my move to the outer perimeters of Johannesburg (NW)

2011-10-30T14:48:00.001Z

I love plastic milk crates because they're such practical multi-purpose thingies

My three guardian angels

Head office (with satyr telling me what and what NOT to do)

eKeesheen...! (with Zanzi and Bosco in background)

Washroom and meditation centre

A nod to my old mate Brian who took himself out last year (and guided me here?)

View from the front sliding door

Drying centre with other odd-sods, toys, devices 'n thingies

Looking at the street through front window

Did I ever tell you that I loved plastic milk crates?

Ching-a-ling... 'tis the pozzie of-a Marwinsing-a-ling!

Back garden belonging to landlord

Place of rest for the wicked and the restless (and still they get no sleep)

Who your daddy?

Damn... got to mix that colourful gooey stuff again soon-soon...

Auww...

So that's it. My 179 583rd move. Escaping The Meltdown and all that jazz and all that that entailed. Shaking white trash 'n traitors and whatnots 'n hotnots and nunus 'n goggas off my back, people whom I gave only love to and got an "EFF-you" from in return... but what else should one expect from The Meltdown Zone? But you can always get an idea what your new neighbourhood's going to be like by squizzing out the folks in the local supermarket on their late Sunday morn shopper.

My eyes nearly popped out at the PnP Radiokop this morning - girls, girls, girls!!!

That's living on the outer perimeters for you... GAS (Germano/Anglo-Saxon) paradise; well, by South African standards. Picked up my broom from the cleaning utensils aisle and joked to the guy trolleying it down towards me... "My wife's a witch!" (yeah okay I'm single but... THE GUY ACTUALLY LAUGHED - HE HOSED HIMSELF!)

White folks don’t laugh in The Meltdown Zone.

That's living on the outer perimeters for you... Radiokop - I'm loving this place!

Playing the game fair

2011-10-30T06:47:00.001Z

Remember this character? Well, he messed with me. And the moral of the story? Don’t let obsessive hatred get the better of you.

The disinformationists…

2011-10-27T18:18:00.001+01:00

The above links all relate to this article, take your pick. They will reference you to virtual lunatic asylum scenarios and in the video below, meet the asylum-keeper himself; he’s the one on the right: Bert Oosthuizen a.k.a Uhuru Guru a.k.a Mike Smith a.k.a Island Shark a.k.a Uncle Cracker a.k.a whoever. Oosthuizen’s theory is that Uhuru (or The Night Of The Long Knives) would begin today in Johannesburg, led and instigated by Julius Malema in an ANC Youth League procession march to the Johannesburg Stock Exchange, a sort of lame African imitation of the Wall Street protests, but holding all South African whites accountable to the Africans’ woes.

…false flaggers…

Oosthuizen began actively propagating his theory on right wing South African websites (see links above) late yesterday and has already gathered a small clique of likeminded zealots as in right-wingers suffering from similar delusions and persecution complexes. Oosthuizen is an ex-South African currently living in a housing estate in Britain and claims he was chased out of South Africa because of the violence when in reality his bizarre beliefs, reactionary writings and unstable behaviour drew unnecessary police attention upon himself, in addition to picking up trouble with the law for allegations of fraud. White cops arrested him, if I may add.

Reindeer (Renaldo Gouws) VERSUS Uhuru Guru (Bert Oosthuizen the stalker)

http://stalkersoftheinternet.blogspot.com/

…agent provocateurs…

Notice in this debate how Bert Oosthuizen tries to tell Renaldo Gouws how to live his life. This is the same Bert Oosthuizen who threatened to have this blogger’s “mother murdered and hacked to pieces” in a series of anonymous e-mails he sent me five years ago; the same Bert Oosthuizen who libelled me by labelling me a “black whore-mongering heroin addict”; the same Bert Oosthuizen who stalked numerous other South African bloggers by accessing and inserting hacking software onto their hard drives, leaving anonymous phone calls and doing whatever else his sick mind could think up. The man is allegedly married with three daughters.

Oh - and did I tell you he also had a child-porn problem?

…sicko’s…

Five years later and this character still e-mails me using other people’s identities. I must be special. Just think: a White nationalist “hero” threatening to have an elderly white women murdered off for no reason other than the fact that he hates her son; a White Nationalist “hero” who declared today the start of Uhuru from a mole-hole beneath his miserable little council house on some housing estate in Euxton, Britain. And to think there are grown up white men and women who actually believe this man?!

…dark souls…

Calling all male nurses in white lab coats, we need you. We have a candidate ready to be straightjacketed and I demand he be locked up in a shocking pink enamel-painted padded cell. Bert Oosthuizen, you are one sad case. You, and the obnoxious, obese and equally as ugly Michelle Seiffert (a.k.a Dark Raven) and most of the rest of the remnants of the SAS mob. But rage on and remember that in China they have lunatic asylums that cater especially for people who go mental from the internet. People like you Bert. C’mon man, you’re not a hero nor a cowboy, you’re a pasty-faced little fat twat pushing out a lot of negative energies from behind that brave mask that you pretend to wear, a man who exchanges one avatar for another as soon as the crowd smell a rat - what have you got to hide son? Snubbing your brother two days before he blew his brains out for being caught trying to save your butt? You psychopath!

…call ‘em what you will

You should see Johannesburg right now. There are normal people here of all backgrounds and stripes, people who just want to get on with their lives despite the daily negatives they face and must deal with and it is these ordinary people who, collectively, make up the bedrock of this country South Africa. But we will always get the stalkers, the Sunday rapists, the psychopaths, eh Bert? Do us all a favour. It’s well-nigh time you got yourself checked in.

Want to be a full-time stalker like this man? Send your wife out to work whilst you play on de interweb all day long, spamming folks, threatening folks, dissing folks, hacking folks and hating folks? Then take a few tips from Bertie Oosthuizen a.k.a Uhuru Guru a.k.a Island Shark a.k.a Mike Smith a.k.a Professor Plonk a.k.a who knows who… he’s your man! Your Great White Saviour!

(post-script: like young Renaldo in the vid, I’m pro-white, of course I am it’s only natural - I’ve even tried to defect to the West in a bid to be with my own kind but got just short of being frog-marched back to Africa so here I am again, a man landless, bearing forced allegiance to South Africa as much as he would rather be upon the grounds of his ancestors, bonny wee England; or down yonder a grey valley in Poland from whence his paternal grandmother came but hey, we can’t all live in an ideal world eh Bert?)

Zapiro – got to punt this guy (not that he needs it) but the man is a master inker

2011-10-21T11:41:00.001+01:00

Mountain Biker gets taken out by LION - CRAZY Footage - Only in Africa

2011-10-20T16:54:00.001+01:00

Now that the Terre Blanche murder trial is in the spotlight… my take on the whole thing…

2011-10-16T22:42:00.001+01:00

(trivia: uh I hear it’s no longer Kill The Boer but Shoot Whitey these days eh…? Ah well kaffirtjies come-come I’m waiting for yer… let’s see if y’awl can break the Great Barrier of Cowardliness that hath wrought y’awl into the lowliest form of humanity existent upon this lil’ ball of dust that there is eh…? Useless creatures that yer awl is, y’awl is nothing but creators of hassles ‘n problems…)

Why I love my Sunday mornings so much

2011-10-16T10:48:00.001+01:00

PHREE Entertainment man, pure goddamned raw, good ‘n kleen ‘n phresh ‘n wholesome Surf Efriken entertainment... (all this, best read and enjoyed with ghoulish Dark Ambient music pummeling the primary auditory cortex with speakers at full volume)

“Aha-hah-hah!!!”

The Terre blanche murder trial: the little misleaders thrown in here and there…

2011-10-15T06:13:00.001+01:00

Take note of this little gem of so-called “evidence” the commissioner of police brings to our attention:

Allegations of sodomy arose when police commissioner General Bheki Cele said a condom was found on the scene.
(Source:)

YOUR half-human police commissioner Bheki Cele infers that Terre Blanche single-handedly may have wished to sodomise these two coons by coming up with the brilliant postulation that because a condom was found at the scene of crime (geez what an amazingly co-incidental find!) Eugene Terre Blanche was a coon-shunting homo. Like this old God-fearing pensioner had the sex-drive of some young Pollsmoor Prison wyfie? Ugh please! This same big-mouthed genius police commissioner who bungled up on the Dewani case, this same police commissioner who signs billion rand premises leases like nothing underhand is going on here? Does anyone smell a rat? This one is blatant. Cele, along with the rest of them, are all complicit IN this murder…

Terre Blanche murder trial: the problem with hiring blacks

2011-10-13T19:03:00.001+01:00

I want no Good Shepherd guiding my life — I’ve seen what good shepherds do once the sheep are ready for market

SHOW TRIAL OF THE YEAR: THE ANC-CRIMINAL GOVERNMENT HAS BEEN BEHIND THIS MURDER RIGHT FROM THE VERY START

Senior black policemen (but who else!?) weaken the state’s case in the Eugene Terre Blanche murder trial

Norman Arendse: Racist, white-hating boeshie (Cape coloured) advocate who’s quickly jumped onto the bandwagon to represent the minor accused (1 of 2) in this cut-and-dried murder case. His credentials include… (former? [my reference unchecked]) Chair: General Council of the Bar of South Africa; (former) Director: Cricket South Africa, Johannesburg; Advocate: Self Employed, Cape Town & Johannesburg; Trustee: Aids Training and Information Centre, Plumstead;

Arendse’s contact details O: (021) 424-9788 M: 083 626 0499

Stormin’ Norman Arendse could be classified as a ‘senior ANC member’ and has managed to get his fingers into quite a few pies. He is also known for threatening to sue all those involved in the publishing of Graeme Smith’s (former S.A cricket captain) book/journal where Smith claims Arendse tried to manipulate a coloured player into the team forsaking a better qualified white player, and this coloured player actually came clean with the plot much to Arendse’s embarrassment. What this blogger would call TBB (typical boeshie behaviour) because I know these characters and what games they’re capable of getting up to, I know first hand.

So watch the farce of this Terre Blanche trial, whitey. Watch your rights get flushed down the ANC shit-hole as this case unfolds.

Apologia: last night I posted crime photos of the murdered Terre Blanche on my blog because I wanted readers to understand the extremely cruel and callous nature of this cowardly deed in order to get their sights set straightened into correct perspective as this trial commences.

The photos are going viral all over the internet right now but to be sensitive to the Terre Blanche family I have removed them from this website.

As an ex-policeman who became hardened to these types of visuals at a very young age I believe in the power of honest journalism and un-retouched photographs don’t lie, yet there are whites in this country who still will continue to hire black labour, be it domestic or otherwise – like Terre Blanche did – and I say to them they should accept the consequences of their actions, they have been warned! And I don’t care whether the African is an old grandmother who attends her Winner’s Chapel church every Sunday without fail, you stupid, lazy, pathetic, USELESS whites who hire blacks… you’ve been warned.

Advisors and consultants

2011-10-13T09:48:00.001+01:00

There was a mob organisation in this country called The Firm. An ex-pal of mine, a character by the name of Travis, claimed to have had some association with them but of late I’ve not heard from Travis nor have I heard anything about this mob The Firm but though I cannot quite place why, I just sensed some vague connection between The Firm and the title of this post.

Just a walk down the road from here (Norwood, Johannesburg) you’ll find lawyers operating who will not talk to you unless you’ve got a hundred thousand to put down as a deposit for your pending divorce case. And I also have a (soon-to-be) ex-landlord who was of the habit of wandering into my (his?) living quarters at day’s end for fireside chats that would inevitably end up with him trying to impose his business thinking upon my will ostensibly in my best interests but more often than not, if only to keep the peace, I would find myself nodding at him obsessively, pretending to feign agreement as this old geyser whined on in his pathetic little bubble of self-importance.

His pathetic little bubble of self-importance that was definitely not acting in my best interests. And so it is with these advisors and consultants. They think they always have something important to say but what the victims of these drones must realise is that advisors and consultants have an obsession with their own self-importance and that is where it begins and that is where it ends. Okay, I confess to be a consultant of sorts too. But there’s only one little difference here: most of the time my clients tell me what they want and these days I have learnt to give them exactly what they want, unquestioningly, as come what may the laws of logic will always prevail especially in the realms of business and money. And in matters of money common logic should always be your ally. What is right or wrong, or what is best for the problem at hand, has nothing to do with this because the client is always right anyway – in his/her self-important mind - especially if they’re paying. So if the client asks for shit you give them shit. If the client says to give them what is right, don’t go on a tangent advising them as to what you’re going to give them and how you’re going to do this - they will reject your proposals anyway - just shut up and give them what is right.

But beware of advisors and consultants, better you fine tune your skills in soliloquy.

It’s a biggie – Steven Kalpamantra launches his long-awaited Saur Maas compilation

2011-10-11T20:52:00.001+01:00

1.1 GIGs of pure, unadulterated Dark Ambient music split into 11 parts, 72 tracks featuring just about everyone and anyone who’s in the scene right now, all compressed into MP3 320 for your downloading pleasure on Steven’s site over here. Mine’s coming down the tubes right this moment and I can’t wait to hear this! All Steven’s Facebook buddies have been yacking about this one and the reports are… well, we will hear for real pretty shortly once it comes down. It’s going to be a late night for me-e…

Steven Kalpamantra

First review of the new album on Discogs, and it gets a 3/5. Pffft.

Various - Saur Maas / Auditory Dark Matter

www.discogs.com

The album was released on Kalpamantra's 2nd anniversary and was in part in honor of Roman Sidorov, who was featured in the album as a tribute.

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Dan Barrett who gives a shit, not everyone is going to like everything. there are a ton of brilliant tracks on this and that's what matters

Yesterday at 4:46am · LikeUnlike · 1 personLoading...

Siddhartha Barnhoorn It's an epic album, Steven! :-) I'm honoured to be part of it.

Yesterday at 7:47pm · LikeUnlike

This last week it’s only been wild animals… einah!

2011-10-11T19:37:00.001+01:00

Kwa-Zulu Natal country, South Africa

On sharks, crocodile tears and love [ what my ex-girlfriends think of me ;-)) ] (click pic)

2011-10-09T15:55:00.001+01:00

Quote of the week

2011-10-09T14:59:00.001+01:00

“If you accept people of low quality into your ranks, be prepared to have them testify against you.”

(unknown)

Bye-bye Norwood hello Radiokop!

2011-10-09T13:52:00.001+01:00

It’s nice open Transvaal country (hot and sunny and wide, yes!) and it’s white. You’ve got pleasant neighbourhoods, a few pubs and shopping centres here and there and I got me a little standalone cottage in Radiokop. So it’s a lekker hot Sunday here in Chjoannesberg and I’m celebrating. Yesterday I went to check out a room in a “lovely anarchist’s house” in Greenside, Parktown/Rosebank area (not bad area mind you but for this place) and it was disgusting. Filthy. A rundown commune occupied by 4-5 young Johannesburg whites/jews in their twenties and they all looked angry and unkept. Intellectual types, but no hope for joy there. The room on offer was absolutely stuffed. I figure my laptop would’ve been stolen within a week for drug money, then my cellphone, nah. Here’s to some sanity in this next move.

What is the next worse word after worst?

2011-10-08T08:38:00.001+01:00

Zimbabwe.

Ironic hey, that the man who transformed Zimbabwe from a white-created bread basket of Africa into a black-created basket case is actually one of the most popular and most loved Africans in Africa. This is the negroid for you: nationalist to the point of obsession.

On the other hand you’ve got whitey: generally, a pathetic creature with no allegiance to anything, anyone, any tribe or any state (geez is that me?) and for the most part, understandably.

I can see you… I’m watchin’ y’awl through my stats counter (and my pineal gland’s activated)

2011-10-07T19:34:00.001+01:00

(left: screenshot of my blogger stats counter)

I thought this was weird: a sudden spike at 02h00 just the other day, like a baby earthquake for someone who considers this blog to be more a soliloquy, a monologue, a conversation to himself.

Which is not to say you’re not invited no sirree, all are welcome, in fact a black guy commented on the Darren Scott “kaffir” post and I appreciated that because contrary to what some may think I am not a hater of people of the other races. I grew up a fair chunk of the first twelve years of my life sharing my bed with a black kid and it broke my heart when he went back to the township due to changes in domestic circumstances back then. I could speak Zulu fluently as a young man. In fact, I more likely than not hate my own kind more than any other because I think that most white people are stupid, cowardly and brainwashed to the point of no redemption but just won’t admit it to themselves for reasons of pride, ego, etc. I have issues with a few ex-pals and ex-girlfriends too, in that region of the personality of what I’d call “poor character”. All white. And that angers me. But watching the stats, or, more importantly for me, sensing who comes and who goes on this blog is also where I also get my kicks and trivial amusements…

And you know who I’m talking about hey? I’m talking to you. No, not you. You. Because you’ll read this post some time sooner or later and I’m just saying I know exactly why you go quiet or why you raise your voice because I’m sticking all my widgets and gadgets onto this site, not for any hard-core site-monitoring or anything like that, I do this for fun and I do this because I can and it’s a personal journal open to the public to engage in as well. But I got goodies here that you don’t even know exist, tricks I learnt about almost as a rite of passage way back when when I was a teenager now how about that?! Survival goodies and goodies for thriving with, little personal cyber-life insurance policies, little analogue-to-digital adaptions, that’s all really.

This is what makes blogging fun. And I respect your right to beg to disagree with me on whatever but I do use this blog subjectively as well, I use it as a flush for my verbal bulimia, as a sanitizer for bad energies and as an exorcism device. Hence the need to have sordid posts occasionally grace these pages. Tough. Don’t take offence. Sometimes I just feel it necessary to clear certain things and get them off my chest and under these current living circumstances that’s how it must be, for now.

Feeling the anger subside…

2011-10-07T12:43:00.001+01:00

Freedom beckons
…so I been on the house-hunt again on Gumtree but I think I’ll stay on in Johannesburg, the place hasn’t completely and utterly bored me to the point that I’m contemplating playing Batman (but without the cape) off the side of Ponte Tower in Hillbrow heh!

Give me TWO tomorrows!
My buds are rooting for me down Cape Town way but lads, if it’s good ol’ Capies again this time it’s to retire to the hot and easy life like somewhere in my own custom-designed and built quad-triple storey mansion hanging off Chapman’s Peak, overlooking the Atlantic (and Dungeons big wave suicide surf spot) you get? With ****bucket loads full of money, you get? I was more broke down there five years back than now and besides I’m kind of on the mend again pocket-wise, so bear with us.

And **** you too – you useless old ****
Tomorrow I go check out a house in a cool area with a squadron of young anarchic intellectuals and I guess that’s my choice #1; we’ll see. Then there’s an elderly French widow who says she’s a “spiritual healer” of sorts (for more of a quiet scene, I suppose) but hey I still got too much fight in me so here’s hoping #1 is all good, the area and price sounds right so we’ll see tomorrow. But I won’t be shedding any tears leaving this old ****tard ex-pal of mine, one Bill Lamont, and his miserable little nest of ill-kept and neglected squawkers. A man can only take a **** for so long. Plus I don’t want to end up grinning at you from the other side of the idiot box on Police File. Does that program still run on SABC telly? Ugh, stupid question hey!

(damn… I just struck gold)

2011-10-07T08:57:00.001+01:00

This link gives you better access to Carl Giles’ nuggets.

Carl Giles (of the famous old Giles Annual comics)

2011-10-07T06:58:00.001+01:00

I grew up on this stuff and today, a good few decades later find myself hunting the web for it. For obvious reasons.

Now, Bristol board & Indian ink aficionados, go feast upon the Giles Archives featuring some of the driest of social and political commentaries to come out of post-WWII Britain. That same Britain who today hates its native peoples and their spawn.

R.I.P, Steve Jobs of Apple

2011-10-06T16:08:00.001+01:00

I remember my first Apple computer, a quaint little boxy Mac IIci (that looked like R2D2 from Star Wars) and it ran Quark Xpress V.nineteen-voetsek on it with only black and white pixels as big as teenager’s zit and how I loved that machine, it had a GUI and a mouse! As life and this mob of filth that I belong to called The Human Race blew me from field to field, street to street, airport to airport and railway station to railway station… I lost that machine - but you, Steve Jobs, you will forever be in my heart and in the hearts of many others too.

For you were a techno-marketing angel – you were a true-guru, you brought this world goodies for the betterment of all. I think.

R.I.P, Steve Jobs of Apple. Send your condolences over here.

* * *

(left: the early days)

FNB website update

2011-10-06T15:53:00.001+01:00

From the other day. Natasha called me and listened patiently and intently to my tale of woe. She said she would pass my points on to the website development team and for that FIRST NATIONAL BANK GET THIS AWESOME CAKE LOVINGLY BAKED BY… me.

White South African people are strange

2011-10-06T15:01:00.001+01:00

When I give them work that really, really, really, I am embarrassed to put my name on, they love me to death. I get paid, paid with a smile by these clients before the job’s even over. But as soon as I suggest doing the job properly they don’t want to know me. I have been doing this work for over a quarter of a century so should have a vague idea of what I’m doing by now. But blow me down the client always knows best. South Africa is a weird country and I am convinced we white South Africans are some of the most backward of our type on the planet. Maybe the Walmart folks are laughing at us.

I know some folks here who run co.za websites that they really, really think are intelligently-designed and each time I ride past their sites (to be fair, no, I’m not linking them now) I just want to cringe with sorrow and despair. For where their heads are at.

I know a South African webmaster who is mad-crazy about stats. Measure this, record that. But as soon as you click on a link of his the link sends you out of his site and you’re gone and you don’t want to re-visit the site. Would you log that as a site visit?

Botes @ Stevenson (click image)

2011-10-05T19:41:00.001+01:00

Auww cute… the Johnny that couldn’t help becoming South Africa’s famewhore of the week

2011-10-05T09:13:00.001+01:00

(Thanks to my buddy Pierre of Wavescape for the vid and this accompanying article about Great Whites which is well worth a read)

Above is some footage of The Great White (or was it one of its mates?) who attacked the unlucky bather (who ignored the shark warnings) at Fish Hoek, False Bay, Cape Town on Monday. With some of the more advanced of us humans able to work with, tame and train predatory animals all we need to resolve are ways and means of teaching Great Whites to thrive in places like Wall Street and most of the Third World.

Uh wait wait! Look what I found on the Save Our Seas website:

The oceans are in trouble. We are at a crossroads in history, and the actions we take – or fail to take – in the next decade will decisively impact the future of our seas and of our planet.

Overfishing depletes stocks of fish beyond their ability to recover.
This disrupts the ecosystem and eliminates a valuable source of food and income.

Predator loss releases prey populations from both the pressure and risk of predation.
Their removal can cause a potentially irreversible cascade of complex knock-on effects, destabilising marine ecosystems to their - and our - severe detriment.

Climate change is warming the oceans and making them more acidic.
This will create vast dead zones as plankton and corals - the primary producers for nearly all marine life - struggle to survive under increasingly inhospitable conditions.

Pollution can poison marine life and decimate entire marine environments.
Vast quantities of solid and chemical waste from human activities are continually dumped and leach into the oceans, including plastics, sewage, oil and toxins that accumulate in food webs.

Habitat destruction physically limits the suitable living space available to marine life.
Coastal development, trawling, and aquaculture all destroy important marine habitats vital for supporting ocean health, such estuaries and mangrove systems that function as nurseries.

But surely this same principle applies to the land and the continents too? Let us scrutinise point #2. What has happened on this planet these last hundred years? Have we not had a release of prey human populations from both the pressure and risk of predation? A Third World population explosion that has now gotten so ridiculously out of hand that the former predatory populations (let’s call them “the civilised world”) are now at risk of becoming extinct? Like that population group (my population group, whitey) whose figures have dropped from 25% to 7% in a mere one hundred years? Hey all you liberals, all you “do-good” missionaries out there, the ghost of Mother Theresa and Pope Benedict? And all you “cheap labour” conservatives? And all you white idiots who advocate there is only one race, the human race. I’ll tell you what: I was yacking to an old school buddy on Facebook the other day and he stood up and self-righteously proclaimed there is only one race, the human race. Oi buddy! Now you leave Londontown and go live in New Dehli. Too shy eh mate? Ahh… bring on the dancing sharks! Make them work hard for their money then feed them turd world cake!

Come all Ye Faithless – come follow a misanthropist through his journey of woe

2011-10-04T20:50:00.001+01:00

And come share with us your tales of the bizarre, come cry upon my shoulders and let me cry upon yours, let us all grind and gnash our teeth together (heh – my Dutch ex- used to say ‘theet’ and I thought that was so cute) and give the rest of them the middle-digit.

I want to hear all the shit that’s been going down in your lives (please, no success stories here, this blog is only for born losers) because you see over there on the right-hand sidebar I stuck up a Google Friends Connect widget tonight that I may know that I walketh through this mad and crazy life alone not. Just click the goodie don’t be afraid it don’t bite and sign up with my miserable little blog and together we will show the rest of them that it is they who are mad-crazy and not us, hey?

Oh lately I’ve been much doing the cyber-social thing. Facebooking and Twittering and whatevering. God, it’s also been because I’ve not been laid in awhile and I’ll be quite frank with you on that one. But damn, on Facebook all of a sardine I’ve had of late some very pleasant encounters with a few of my –ex’s. They all still look gorgeous. And you can be rest assured brothers and sisters that I got good taste in the fairer sex. Well, I used to have anyway. Yeah and that means you Kimmy, Michelle, Erie… blow me down dead in a midsummer night’s dream I should have married the lot of you. If only…

I was spoilt rotten with women in my youth. It all started with Gail when I was eleven years old, she was thirteen. And a gymnast. The three Cotton sisters were all gorgeous and I have vivid memories of walking to their house early on dewy Saturday mornings, at age eleven, and having smooching sessions with Gail through her bedroom window. Ah, those were the days, so sweet and innocent.

So sign up over there and come tell us your stories, come rant ‘n rave and vloek and whatever, you know ol’ Marwie-boy he only enjoys the strange and the sublime and the sickening. Heh-heh…

Oh please: if I might add… any artists/designers/creative types have nice links to their, or other, artworks of whatever nature - so long as it falls loosely into the genre of Visual Arts (which can be anything from a drawing or strip, to a magnificent neo-Sistine Chapel graffitto, hey, whatever, including sculpture/installations so long as it is “interesting”) please drop us a comment and I can take it from there… and, as always, good Dark Ambient/Ritual Ambient/Ambient music links/articles are welcome…

The ex-landlord

2011-10-03T19:39:00.001+01:00

Online forms

2011-10-01T08:45:00.001+01:00

We who encounter these things on a regular basis know of the frustrations of filling in online forms to get things done.

Yesterday I let off steam about service in the analogue world now today I wage war against the idiots who design online ASP/PHP/MySQL/whatever forms… that may as well be GIBBERISH to the unsuspecting victim of some of these horrible things. The night before last I lashed out at a Cape Town Creative Agency for creating a form in bad form where the victims were the very people they serve and work with – Creatives - in the Creative Outworking business; but they are forgiven because one of their directors phoned me in very apologetic tone yesterday and, well, yeah I still got some human left in me.

But today I will NOT let First National bank South Africa off the hook, I will NOT. Bankers are all essentially thieves in suits but it doesn’t stop there. Their service is useless. If you work for a bank chances are you do because you’re from a pretty poor mould of human being. You want security. You need to be near the money. You’re mentally lazy and you have little or no intelligent initiative. And you like to slot in effortlessly into crappy man-made money systems, the worst and most evil of them, financial systems which are ALL founded upon HUMAN GREED. But FNB are my bankers and it is high time they got a whipping again. A moment ago I stuck on my running shoes, I was going to run down to Norwood Mall FNB there and have it out with them (which I’ve done a few times before) but decided nah, why waste my precious energies? More people will read of them here on my blog.

I am going to slit FNB’s throats over the pathetic way that their website is designed. You try add a Recipient (a Creditor in layman’s terms) onto your FNB account (a person you want to pay) whilst simultaneously abiding to the rules of Logic and Common Sense, man, they may as well be talking to Martians.

Pop up menus should be used with discretion and when used, the menu items must be written in plain and simple layman’s terms. The user is tied to what he/she sees in front of him/her and has no choice but to choose, else his/her form request is BOMBED. it’s as simple as that all you idiot back end programmers out there. A subject text field must be concisely and simply described. Ugh what the hell I don’t want to ruin my weekend I just want to pay my buddy but thanks to YOU turds at First National Bank a simple task has now become a major mission. Punks.

Oh gosh sometimes I hate myself…

2011-09-30T16:09:00.001+01:00

…for being so good.

So this morning there’s me (actually midday) wandering up and down the aisles of the local mall with PnP basket in hand and a cheerful young virgin hits on me… a Virgin Mobile Marketing Personnel person… armed with SIM-card goodies… and I hate Vodacom (followers of this blog will know this) so yeah, take me Virgin I’m all yours. And she does. Rah-rah-rah… fill in the forms, ugh buy a new phone whilst we’re at it (the existing one is a cool old Nokia ‘baby half-brick’ with a crack across the screen) and after a half-hour of all this and a few clips dearer in the pocket I trollops off home with my new bundle of crap. Yay, got rid of Vodacom, hello Virgin! Get home and dreaded buzzwords like RICA sign-ups appear on the new phone screen, an expected Virgin e-mail didn’t arrive, nah-nah-nah this isn’t up my alley and those who are familiar with me know I don’t compromise.

So it’s back down to the mall again with my bundle of shizen, watch it PnP and Virgin Marwinsing’s on the warpath again.

To cut a long story short I cancelled the deal and got a full refund on the Virgin card and the Far East phone. You can let your imaginations run wild as to what happened in between, but this is an honest confession: I am starting to get a kind of sadistic pleasure out of slitting corporates’ throats when they don’t deliver and with me they only get one chance – one chance - Virgin or no virgin. Don’t play games with me just deliver, give me what I want I’m paying for it, my time is valuable. So I’m still stuck with Vodacom and the old phone and my internet’s with Cell-C, and they’re cool.

Who offers the best pay-as-you-go mobile phone deals in South Africa, I want to know. Anybody?

Just thought I’d tell you I had an amazing birthday today

2011-09-29T22:33:00.001+01:00

THWUKKK on the big five-two. Uh. Spoilt rotten at Fourno’s Bakery @ The Zone, Rosebank by the Mom and Daughter team of Gail and Isa of the internationally-renowned Schwartz Jewellers Company, South Africa’s Premier Luxury Items House. I had a huge Farmhouse Breakfast and spluttered bacon, eggs (done medium) and coffee over Mom and Daughter whilst yacking about all things interweb and simultaneously showing them sketchbooks rendered in Indian Ink and Earl Grey tea-tannin of hyenas mating and some of the other strange stuff that goes on in my head then Gail replied ja wait you see the jewellery I’ve designed of lions mating heh-heh nah it was great fun. Superb. I don’t socialise much in Joburg, not that I don’t wish to, it’s just not practical right now at this point in time due to present living circumstances. Michelle phoned me all the way from London and big smooches to you girl, then my folks, and later in the day my groovy eighty-year-old Aunty Pattyputtypooh (huge hugs to her) and lastly, my boet. Wrapped the day up spitting out a few exercises that keep an old sod intact (read below).

(left) Your own home-made MacGyver Gym for ziltch by Marwinsing™

Simple. Buy an IRON GYM (that goodie hanging off the door frame, they’re amazing) it comes with instructions - and get TWO JERRY CANS. Top them with water to desired weight and TRAIN! The IRON GYM has heaps of other exercises you can do like sit-ups, pull-ups, push-ups, stomach crunches (ouch!) etc. and I use the IRON GYM as A BAR onto which I HOOK the JERRY CANS on either end thus making a BARBELL type apparatus. Lay a mat down for the sit-ups and Bob’s your auntie, go to town – you’ll be amazed how many exercises you can come up with especially if you’ve done conventional weights before; curls, presses, raises, etc. You can do all those with the Marwinsing MacGyver Gym™ – so go for it! And you gonna burn baby burn…

Rock Star of the Month

2011-09-29T15:01:00.001+01:00

(left) Rob Stokes, Founder and CEO of Quirk Marketing

South Africa still produces her gurus. Christiaan Barnard was one, Sol Kerzner was one, Mark Shuttleworth was one, and Rob Stokes is certainly another. I’ve always held deep admiration for a person who fits the role of the young, unadulterated visionary optimist and Rob certainly is in that category. Not only that but I consider him to be a natural born leader as it seems Quirk (head-office in Cape Town, with branches in Johannesburg and London) comprises of a large team of youngsters who are passionately driven to excel in the relatively unexplored territories of e-marketing and they do so with remarkable maturity and skill. Their website is a pleasure to visit and it is loaded with fascinating content and these fresh-faced folks look ready to tackle any online project with verve and vigour and professionally. Quirk scoop up corporate clients like Kreepy-Kraulys eat dead leaves out your swimming pool and they are ONE HUNDRED PERCENT MADE IN SOUTH AFRICA.

Marwinsing SAHLOETS Rob and his fine team at Quirk! Also, on their website is an invaluable e-Marketing book downloadable for free if you’re on Twitter or you can order the print version. Get it, it’s useful. Another Rob Stokes brainchild. Yes, the man falls into the category of Genius. Quirk were also recently acknowledged by Google as the first company in Africa to fit certain standards of compliancy to whaa-whaa-whaa I can’t find it right now, it was some geek thinga-mee-bob you-know-what-i-mean-hey? Go read all about it, go find out on their website!

Digging deeper into our white male psyche

2011-09-28T21:32:00.001+01:00

Darren Scott and Gareth Cliff were both recently called out, now this buggerlugs Mark Esterhuysen: until yesterday morning, of Radio 702 Eyewitness News, who threw his marbles out the cot the other night on his late-night newscast.

Now I swear like tjoet (and make no bones about it, this blog is perpetually evolving proof of the varying degrees of filth swirling around in my head) and I could easily out-vloek this bloke but he never had any real cause to go off like he did on his late night news shift. Ah… but in his confused little brainwashed head he thought he did. Go read his blog, he’s searching for answers that he’s already found but which he just cannot process, face, or bring himself to admitting to, primarily because he’s got the Liberalism Disease i.e: the kid’s brainwashed.

A confused anarchist
The biggest fear Mark Esterhuysen has in his life is the fear of being called WAYCISS. He hates racists. He screamed “f**k racism, f**k fascism” a few times in his rant. Now any tosser can call himself an anarchist. I’m an anarchist. But what this guy was really saying is that he hates himself and he expressed these feelings by making a complete poephol of himself over the air all in one foul swoop and this is backed up on his blog by his immature musings on civilisation, sport, radical feelings of discovering the wild-boy chimp within himself, etc. It’s all about WAYC, Markie-Mark, WAYC. Ermm… do eagles fly with budgies? Nope.

“A-wah! a-wah! A-boo-hoo!”
This kid just started blowing it on his show for no reason. Maybe he’s been listening to too much Jim Morrison lately. But let’s get back to Darren and Gareth. Darren was called out for being WAYCISS for calling a black colleague a kaffir which I think is cool, the swine did steal money from him (TKB) and Gareth’s been called a sexist. Somebody get me a Kleenex! Something’s amiss here. I’ll tell you what it is. They don’t read my blog. Jokes aside but Darren rolled over like a puppy and cried to the world that he hated himself for using the K word and I don’t know about Gareth but I suspect that Gareth, being by far the most intelligent of the three (would he bank a black colleague?) kept it cool. Well I hope so.

The truth: we white boys are ALL undergoing a crisis of existence
The white male is under pressure. If truth be told, we’re all undergoing an existential crisis. Read that again. The white male worldwide is undergoing a crisis of existence and if you’re not then there is something wrong with you, you must be suffering from partial or whole consciousness dysfunction.

The most important page on de interweb dat you’ll ever read in your life (how it all started)

2011-09-26T10:55:00.001+01:00

Over here.

See? As the economy implodes we say bye-bye to the Outeniqua Choo-Tjoe

2011-09-26T08:38:00.001+01:00

The pleasantries go first. This busy government doesn’t have time to repair railway lines because they’re too busy destroying what whites and Western civilisation built elsewhere in this country, of course including the little luxuries like Outeniqua Choo-Tjoe. You have to take into account the basics of human psychology here. Your polygamist president is too busy handing out what’s left of the mines to his family, friends and relatives, the old ANC “struggle heroes”, to concern himself with little things like railway tracks. But let’s take a look further down south towards Cape Town’s V&A Waterfront. That’s also going down. Then towards the tropics Durban/KZN way, there was a big song and dance in the nineties about Shaka Marine World, La Mercy International Airport, wadda wadda wadda… and what’s been the outcome? Oh, they’re up… but they’re all white elephants damn. Certain “developer” types who got in early on the plan grabbed what they could and ducked. You see, tourism has never been big on your average Zulu boy or Indian cane-cutters list: I know because I grew up with them. No disrespects, but they tend to actually spook the real money-spending tourists away if you get what I mean. Don’t believe me? Is Chatsworth a tourist destination? Kwa Mashu? Well…

Hello? Hello whitey? But I know you, you’ll still lean on black labour because it’s so convenient and cool, they’ve always done the dirty work for you so who cares? Me! Dump your black labour damn! Breed more and use that for your labour you get? Cut the others out. You got too much Jesus in your head. Why give your intelligent initiative (and genes) away for nothing but a stab in the back? The coon just leans on you damn, he wants you to feel obligated to give him a job played off on your white guilt whitey, for he cannot create an economy, where in the world is there but one example of a thriving black-created economy? (no, Nollywood don’t count)

For whites to begin thriving here again we’d have to get right back down to basics and start by cutting the others out.

Because they have neither the desire nor the inclination to give back. But there’s hope. And it’s white - what else?

Late Sunday night yack to the walls

2011-09-25T23:52:00.001+01:00

Ladies and gentlemen we have a problem
The African Native doth not like the White African Farmer and Businessman/Entrepeneur. He’s insanely jealous of him or her. So the former pledges to put the latter out of business if not through crime and forced land redistribution, then through draconian legislation, unworkable BEE-bling policies and you know the rest. In Zimbabwe they're now bragging about how many white farmers Mugabe managed to chase off the land, calling Mugabe a strong leader, etc. They don’t care about breadbaskets in Africa. All they care about is getting rid of YOU whitey. The white man has shown the black man up for too long and the black man feels it’s his time to show the white man who’s now boss. At whatever cost. Of course, this reversal of power has been aided and abetted by white traitors too.

Deliberate destruction of the white-created economy
Please don’t expect things to be any different in South Africa. This black ANC government are destroying the white-created industries left, right and centre, they’re doing it as a matter of deliberate policy and don’t let anyone kid you otherwise, this was on the cards a long, long time ago whitey. Now what are you going to do? So you think Helen Zille and Piet Mulder and Kortbroek are gonna come save your business eh? Well, Marwinsing’s got news for you, they ain’t.

The good times are gone for good
Every week small manufacturing plants are closing down around the Reef/JHB area never to be replaced again, the munts are driving around in bling motorcars and they’ve got bling housing loans but these will peter out soon-soon because well, we all know that munts don’t create economies, they destroy them. Take a look around you. These little formerly white-owned manufacturing plants and businesses will get replaced with cheap Chinese imports or else nothing.

And don’t call me a bringer of bad tidings I’m just being realistic
Those of you vaguely familiar with me know I’ve been there, done that and lived in quite a few places and let me tell you this that Johannesburg is going to go down. Mining’s no longer a big deal here like it used to be and Malema’s screwing up that department brilliantly, we all know that. But with the downfall of Mining, Finance and the related service/manufacturing businesses like Insurance and Heavy Engineering will atrophy and shrink and more pressure will be put on the ordinary consumer to cough up. Have you noticed your banking charges lately? The banks want to cash in before the whole shit-house goes up in flames too. Don’t think for a moment that they don’t know what’s going on.

Get ready for new weird and wonderful forms of taxation
As the long-drops collapse into themselves this government will come up with ingenious methods to milk you even more than they do already so you’re going to have to come up with your own battle plans. Good luck. I’m a pauper, I’m an untouchable so I don’t have tax problems. But will the last person to leave this lunatic asylum please don’t forget to close the gate?

You better pull your thumb out your butt and fast whitey, time to saamwerk
Remember that old army expression. Saamwerk want die swart gevaar hy kom maar die swart gevaar hy’s nou hier! You better think smart whitey, wake up and realise you’re in a race war right now, that it’s time for clever co-operation strategies and ACTION!

A melody don’t get much sweeter than this…

2011-09-25T21:08:00.001+01:00

Melodico by pill-oh

This character looks sick

2011-09-25T10:18:00.001+01:00

He's definitely on AIDS retro-virals and if you look over here it’s even more apparent. Jacob Zuma is nice and fucked up. Why do you think he’s marrying all these ntombis at the last moment? He’s getting his last kicks on YOU, the STUPID TAXPAYER, before he conks. Not on me. As an untouchable I’m exempt from tax. Anyone here ever been on chemotherapy? I have, for the big-C twelve years back which I killed and kicked into touch. Your skin goes kinda transparent which in those linked pics (above) you can see very clearly with ol’ Jakes. I’ve heard lots of detailed accounts through connections of his machine gun going into very strange places so you can be rest assured, this impi is on the strongest and most advanced of the mutis available to keep him alive and kicking. Die, Mr Zuma, die, along with all the rest of them. And Marwinsing curses these white or Indian doctors keeping him alive.

Just like magic! Slutwalk creates enemies out of nothing

2011-09-24T19:56:00.001+01:00

What man in his right state of mind would want to rape these things? Euw, lookee over there! - there’s even one with a beard - at the back!

I hooked this pic off the liberal MSM rag Mail & Guardian's front page of today. This is the insanity we have to tolerate. I will posit this to you that these reject white females are misandrists of the highest order with a list of hang ups as long as Errol Flynn’s you-know-what. Maybe a few are lesbo’s (and what’s with the black hat?) or they just don’t cut it with real men, some will be hookers, druggies, problem chicks, dunno, maybe they’re just frustrated but normal folks have better things to do with their Saturdays.

It is mainly black women who get raped in this country - and where are they?

They’re busy working.

Now I was at my local Spar this morning here in Norwood, a really cool little shop, with nice friendly staff and today was Heritage Day (I believe) in South Africa. All the black women there were dressed up in traditional Ndebele or Xhosa or tribal-whatever outfits, all face-painted and smiley-happy with ubuntu. Yeah, the real women who get raped in this country were all working to bring the money home with a smile on their dials, not fucking striking over shit. Did you hear that white girls? Eh LWBs? Oi slutwalkers? (silence)

THESE are the people who should have been protesting about ‘orrible nasty cock-fixated men, not these liberal goons ‘n geeks, many of whom come from posh homes, from spoilt white suburban backgrounds and who don’t have to grovel six or seven days a week in a supermarket to bring money home to feed fifty kids, half of whom popped onto this planet probably as a result of black-on-black rapes. White South African men are not the raping types anyway and generally control themselves, go check the stats.

This slutwalk idea started in libbie-infected Canada and I don’t think white men there are as dick-driven as our local indigenous black lads are. If memory serves, many Canadian white boys are either normal white queer-types or wannabee rock stars else married and working for the corporation.

So let me conclude with this statement that you can quote me on: I believe that most of these chicks who took part in today’s slutwalk in Johannesburg would gladly take ten inches of throbbing AIDS-ridden black dick no problem, if only just to appease the raging white guilt that burns behind their palpitating breasts but as sure as you can say slap me with your sausage I think their little minds have been infected big time with the El Feministo Liberalism Disease.

"Hey girlies! The summer of '69 ended forty-two years ago!" (peace out eksè)

It's the lads at the top

2011-09-23T10:58:00.001+01:00

The whole West is going down right now and they're taking it down and we all knew this would happen here in South Africa a long time ago, after all, those who knew not even of the wheel a mere one hundred and fifty years back now rule the roost with bling and impunity.

Just as the lads upstairs want it. Now they're trying to smother all evidence of their looting in the arms deal with the constitutional court judges breathing down their backs but this is preposterous, jolly goo this is all just a pantomime, it's all just a ploy to get the useful idiots to believe that justice will prevail. Justice has NEVER prevailed. The only justice that SHOULD prevail should be good old-fashioned MOB justice. Find a tree and lynch ‘em. Start with Mbeki and Zuma tied together in a double-lynch - the two of them tied up back to back - cool eh?

Fortunately I'm able to switch from the paintbrushes to my coding brain so I'm back in business on the web-design side and related; and I got my nets thrown out yonder in faraway waters too, as well as a few lines tossed in here and there in local waters but only for the good 'n clean 'n fresh clients. I hate shit.

Which is not to say I'll ever stop painting and exhibiting and creating nah-no sirree I'll die painting and exhibiting and creating as the cosmic gateways and karmic border-posts approach in my journey through this my life's beginning second-half – or whatever.

But when I look around at the post-modern vagaries of nothingness surrounding me here in the midst of The Meltdown Zone, the shopping malls and coffee-shop/restaurant lifestyles of drab-to-uppity Johannesburg, I shake my head in disdain and wonder what the hell turns people on living their weird and wonderful lives. Clock in at eight, mark time until lunch, doodle the afternoon away then go home to domestic misery. Damn, now where did I put the razor-blades? Ugh, Vernon’s triple-bypass steady-on pills will do the trick, doll where izz yer, ah-ah hold my hand I’m dying! *thud!*

"Aah-kay then we see yooz for supper tonight then eh?" She nasalises to her friend as she approaches the PnP Norwood teller, fumbling around for hubby’s platinum card to pay for the double-decker trolley loaded full of PnP post-modern comestible crap.

I got a call from some gruff-voiced black Zimbabwean this morning:

"Hi, my name is George, I am from Zimbabwe and I'm looking for a partner in South Africa to deal in my diamonds and tanzanite business you see because I cannot go direct to my customers and..."

"Where the ~~fuck~~ hell did you get my cell number from?"

*click* and the phone goes down.

The lies people live.

The Inimitable R Crumb (from Weirdo #1; circa 1981)

2011-09-22T22:34:00.001+01:00

Psyops 101 for idiots and dummies

2011-09-21T22:09:00.001+01:00

Time magazine cover, 6 July 2009:

Take a villain and turn it into a hero; apply same to another villain and so on - “there vill be no order, only kaos”

Just reverse the meanings of whatever you read on this cover and you got the truth.

Time magazine are involved in the takeover and destruction of America as we all once knew it. America that the white man built.

The whole Western MSM is involved, along with Hollywood, the universities, big business and of course the Fed. Plus a million other institutions.

So what can Obama learn from FDR? He’s learnt a lot already. FDR also robbed the white American middle class with his New Deal, his gold bullion confiscation, the Pearl Harbour false flag to get America into the second great war to murder their European brothers.

And Obama’s doing the same as this cover implicates.

The double meanings are everywhere.

On the glories of blogging for oneself, for your own appeasement

2011-09-21T16:49:00.001+01:00

Let me be straight upfront. I don’t write for you, I write for myself. I care not what you think of my writings or opinions on matters, most of the time these posts are born from feelings or nuances that have their origins that emanate from deep within the recesses of my gut and will be way beyond the scope of your thought or line of reasoning so why bother trying to puzzle it out? – unless of course you are so bored with your own crappy little lives, that you really have nothing much else better to do; so these posts become my personal, metaphysical journal entries that from time to time I may have need to reference for whatever reason. Yes, they are public, but remember one thing: you invited yourselves here. I did not ask you to be here. In fact, nine times out of ten I do not want you around here. For the most part I get cranks commenting on this blog, people who have nothing better to do than drift around sticking their mucus-ridden snouts into other people’s businesses and invariably these have turned out to be white female liberals of whatever origin or stripe. I call them little old aunties. Bored housewives. Whatever. More often than not some will attempt to initiate a dialogue over much ado about nothing and after a while when I realise these lost souls are not my cup of tea they just get spam blinkered on the e-mails and they’re gone. Until the next time. Then the process just repeats itself. Some are even foolish or desperate enough to try again and again and so the show goes on.

Not my fucking fault!

On rare occasions good friendships are formed, invariably with guys who share a similar opinion about the state of things especially regarding our race, the white race, of which I am a part. But these opinions are not shared by the vast majority and because of that a lot of people will come here to try diss me and they rarely succeed because well, my opinion is my opinion and that is that.

Hail Apostia and all fellow Apostates!!!

But the true friends and allies this blog has brought me into contact with have been really special folks and they have been for the most part guys from way yonder on the other side of the planet and that has made it even more interesting and those guys know exactly who they are and I regard them to be special blokes and comrades, for one of the things we share in common is a certain sense of misanthropy, as well as constant feelings of dread and hopelessness for the laissez-faire bourgeoisie as in your ordinary common law garden house snake white liberal: a sad creature I encounter daily, and have a huge problem trying to decipher.

Then of course I get those who come with the same old boring line of “are you deranged” or some such. This is their usual stopper to an argument or debate so their pathetic efforts get trashed immediately. This takes me back to the liberal white bitch advocate who accused me of racism in a Cape Town court five years back (Advocate De Wet, that’s you) because she had to find a tack or approach to get her six non-white accused off the hook for attempting to murder me. The traitoress succeeded because the magistrate and bribed prosecutor (non-white females) were also against me, the complainant, a white male! Do you see? - does the picture get any clearer now? I make no qualms about the fact that I hate lawyers and advocates, yes, I honestly do hate them all, every single darned fucking one of them, and this will never change. I don’t keep them as friends and despise the whole damn dirty dishonest industry.

Do you read me loud and clear The Courts And Legal Industry? Marwinsing thinks you’re ‘orrible, you’re a despicable bunch o’ cunts. You’re filth! And if I read news of you and your kind having bad luck I rejoice for you bring bad luck to others. You got me?

Why? Because they’re bottom-feeders. These scum feed off the misery of others and get paid for this as if that’s not bad enough, like the liberal white advocate who took a panel beating by Sipho the Sowetan kaffir taxi driver heh-heh! Fuck her, I’ll feed off hers.

But I am not so callous as to wish to make a living out of other peoples’ misfortunes hey Advocate McCluskey? Advocate De Wet?

I’m an old soul. The nuances and thoughts I conduct are more often than not atavistic so, dear reader, do not be surprised that much of what you see on these pages might disturb you - you may think me deranged, whatever, but I care not for your opinions.

I write for the joy and happiness and fun of it. It’s like a process of exorcism it puts me on a buzz. And if this entails getting kicks out of those who get their kicks and bucks out of the misfortunes of others then so be it, my job as a shaman is done. Perfectly.

This blog is my blog, courtesy of Blogger.com. What I think and say and how I do it on these pages is my business. You come here on my terms. Else you fuck off outta here. Really, it is that simple.

What you will not find here in South Africa

2011-09-19T21:17:00.001+01:00

Another two websites nailed to the wall this week and my CSS3/HTML5 coming right…

2011-09-17T12:20:00.001+01:00

I am enjoying my web design work and I am working with nice customers and I am drunk and in love with code.

What more could one ask for? (and not bad you useless old sod… for someone who’s never had a computer lesson in his life before)

Innfallen - Prologue (Inner Locutions)

2011-09-15T20:04:00.001+01:00

Headphones on volume up!

Swiss Member of Parliament Has Had Enough

2011-09-14T20:21:00.001+01:00

You ROCK boy! Damn!

… and it all came together just like magic

2011-09-13T22:06:00.001+01:00

You have to read this, it’s very important

So after my workout and shower I put the broccoli to boil, because the broccoli goes down beautifully after a workout. The broccoli, now steamed and looking delightfully squeaky-edible still lacked for something then it all suddenly clicked - the grated cheese! – with the whole wheat rolls that I’d bought from Uncle Ray’s PnP rip-off centre at Norwood Mall this afternoon… yippee!!!

This is what creativity is all about. And that’s about as far as your rabbit-hole will go and no further.

Creativity is about making obscure connections work in your favour and this is why most human beings in my humble opinion are so damn stupid (and I graciously bow sideways to proffer a pious hat-tip the animal kingdom…)

Now consider the alchemists of the Middle Ages. Whatever these druids did in their attempts to wrought gold from, let us say camel dung (or goose liver for all I care) they most certainly would have learnt a lot of other things per chance along the way. Like how to make ink for example. You can make ink from crushed oak galls and iron sulphate (copperas) blended with a dollop of red wine for good measure. The Book of Kells, a stunningly beautiful manuscript housing the four Gospels (which I had the honour of viewing at the University of Dublin in1985) and one of the world’s man-made wonders, was penned with oak gall ink and painted with exotic colour pigments like verdigris and indigo imported by merchants and traders from distant lands as far afield as Iran and Afghanistan.

The Irish monks of the Dark Ages weren’t stupid. They might have been a bit religiously brainwashed, or perhaps a trifle overly-faithful, but these expert craftsmen were both dexterous and gifted with well-honed senses of perception. Maybe there was a shortage of women on that part of the island at the time too, but it’s all about alchemy.

But what you’re about to read below is even more important

This last Sunday morning I had a bit of “business” to take care of at the police station in Norwood. I waited around for an hour and three-quarters, I got passed from a black male constable to a black female constable to another black male uniform constable and then to a black female uniform captain and the whole process took one and three quarter hours. To make a petty report that consisted of five lines of writing (which they seemed incapable of doing) completed with an official police stamp. I had to explain to all the above, including the senior officer, what the definition of extortion was in crime-speak. I was a cop as a late teenager (30 years ago) through to twenty years old when I left for greener pastures but have forgotten NONE of my criminal law: in fact I still seem to be using it quite regularly to my advantage even in this day and age. I maintain a position of cordiality and pseudo-respect for South African police, even if only to play the game.

Anyway, whilst waiting for service in the charge office I had more than ample time to take in the environment and observe with bemusement what was going on. But what caught my attention was this poster which I sneakily photographed at the police station, unnoticed, today. It was placed prominently in a few places inside the fair-sized charge office.

Norwood is a black-run cop shop. There are no posters of black wanted criminals in the office. But here, in the midst of a black-majority country where 99.999999% of the crimes are committed by black males, we have the WHITE Sunday rapist: “the Sunday rapist is wanted for attacking girls between 11 and 18 years old in Gauteng and North West” the poster exclaims. Visuals of white male faces, Nordic, mixed Nordic-Alpine, Alpine-Med, etc. The WHITE Sunday rapist. In Kaffir land.

Now think about Judge Lamont recently finding Julius Malema guilty of “Kill the Boer” hate speech; the ANC protesting against the verdict, and this poster. Now ask yourself if the white man is not being vilified in this country? This police I.D poster is a black ops device, it’s as simple as that. The SAPS is not your friend. This ANC government is not your friend. Wake up white man!

(Oh, I might add that Norwood police station is a sitting duck target for attack or ambush by anyone gutsy or mad enough to do it. Fat, lazy, overweight black police officers waddle around squawking like ducks but do little, it’s typical black slovenliness, inefficiency and arrogance, and if you’re white, be patient, expect to wait a long, long time for crappy black police service. Though I will concede the police captain was quite sweet to me once she realised I could teach her a few things about police work)

Sunday weekend wrap up: ALL religion is FRAUD

2011-09-11T19:52:00.001+01:00

You got to read Phishna’s blogs. He patiently explains why these manic Middle East desert religions (Judaism, its elder daughter Christianity and its younger bastard-son, Islam) will eventually drive any sentient human being to depraved insanity and a life of misery and Hell, especially if you possess the ability to think. Or worse, the ability to think for yourself. Religions are meme cancers, I had the shit pumped into my head as a kid and it took a lot of hard work to rid myself of the disease. Basically you have to 1) de-programme then 2) re-programme your mind. If you’re an idiot or if you feel highly insecure about yourself and about life in general then that’s great, religion will probably do you more good than harm (because you’re stuck in the abyss already) and bear in mind that idiots don’t think for themselves anyway; but those of you who pass by this blog and who know my enigmatic modus operandi will get it. Sometimes you just have to be cruel to be kind.

The Religious / P-C Memeplex Hatches And Spreads To The Mind As Cancer Or Malaria Does To The Body

Now read this: when I had my art show a few months back I did a super painting called Witch’s Coven inspired by the Spanish genius Francisco Goya’s Black Painting Masterpiece of the same name. It’s a gorgeous picture even if I say so myself. Well, tertiary level religious components involved in my exhibition banned my painting (below) from the public viewing it. My art exhibition was censored by religious liberals! I had no say in the matter whatsoever, it being my first art show in Johannesburg. It was banned because it expressed heretical ideologies contrary to the prevailing Religion of Political Correctness, which is rife in Johannesburg, especially among the Northern Suburb Liberals. See? Are you beginning to understand the process of brainwashing and how those who are already brainwashed expect, naye, demand, that others follow suit? There’s another word to describe it - and no, Fascism is too soft - it’s called Neo-Marxism. Folks, I hope I’m managing to teach you something about these things called Meme Diseases.

Censored! My Witch’s Coven (the girls in the picture also look perplexed as to why they were banned)

The Gods are not crazy

2011-09-11T08:37:00.001+01:00

Because they don’t exist. They all left the party and buggered off (to God knows where) a long time ago. The God Hypothesis (or Delusion) is an insult to man’s acquired and accumulated knowledge of all things natural, biological, physical, mental, spiritual and chemical. And actual. Why call it Gravity, then come up with elaborate calculations like the speed of gravity equals 3 x 10⁸ meters per second when some fool down the road will just apportion it to “God’s Will”. What? Are there still ignoramuses out there who believe there’s a Big Guy floating around on a cloud somewhere with an HP calculator in his hand feeding scientists alpha-numeric soup that might make some sense of this universe? – or, back down here, inside the premises of this madhouse a.k.a Planet Earth?

Deist and savant Christopher Langan (I.Q. ±195, not bad ol’ chap) is still bashing away on his calculator trying to prove his Theory Of Everything (The Cognitive-Theoretic Model Of The Universe) but my question is how much of the Ego Massage Factor plays a part for Chris’s motivation to stubbornly pursue this fool’s gold?

Okay, lets follow the trail from God down to Man. In a nutshell, that trail’s name is called Absolute Power. It is Absolute Power and it is prone to manifesting itself in weird things like Pope Mobiles and Demolition Jobs.

Like the Jew-instigated major false flag attack upon The Civilised West otherwise known as 9/11, for those victims thereof, we ought to all take a few moments off, close our eyes, bow our heads and give thought and respect to and in gratitude, that WE were not THEM. For it has been ten years now to the day. And no insolent Jew hanging from a cross, nor penis sucking rabbi, nor paedophile-Bedouin from antiquity, will correct that.

So I don’t know why a bright lad like Chris lives in his world of bullshit and make-believe, after all, he is the smartest guy on the planet? Nice guy, sure (you don’t want to fuck with him either, he’s a big lad) but remember – a major chunk of White America are, or were, bible-belters. And those sick memes still run rife. Christian-types are not angels, far from it (and I speak from bitter experience) for behind the closed doors of genteel Christian domesticity lie monsters. Monsters, paedophiles and sadists too, kid yourselves not my children, some White Christians are some of the vilest creatures that I have ever come across upon this planet. Yoo-hoo! Here’s rooting at yah Les World de Turd, yuzz ain’t all that bad - yet.

But are you idiots out there beginning to get the picture? Hey all you fucktards, are your fucking eyelids beginning to peel upwards? Eh? Starting to see now? Okay, I got some business to take care of today. There is a man, he’s my “old pal of twenty-five years” and landlord actually, who is attempting to extort me and I have to attend to this. Naturally I have my options and I shall exercise them to their fullest not forgetting folks, that I, Marwin-fucking-singaling, come from a standpoint of moral rectitude. Always. I like to ensure that the odds stand in my favour. Always. And invariably they do!

Awaken, Arise! Avanti!! A luta Continua!!!

(this sermon hath ended, you may bow your heads and pray)

Darren Scott was right to call his colleague a kaffir

2011-09-10T13:53:00.001+01:00

Because we’re all kaffirs at the end of day. A kaffir is a non-believer or infidel, according to the proper Arabic definition and description of that term. And those of you that frequent this blog will know me to be an uncompromising and proper purist.

You get two primary types of kaffir:

the proper kaffir – that’s a kaffir who doesn’t delude himself of the God Delusion, the atheist; e.g: Marwinsing
the deluded kaffir – that’s a kaffir who believes in God, clings to some type of religion, etc.

BUT there’s a third type of kaffir too:

the cunt – he’s the kaffir who may or may not believe in a god BUT who doesn’t pay his/her debts; material OR otherwise…

Africa Tshoaedi belongs in this last group - as do most of his kind. That is precisely why they are what they are. So Darren my boy, there’s no need to hate yourself over this silly little debacle because it’s all just Days Of Our Lives china. Everybody’s a kaffir. Because there ain’t no God my friends. So quit deluding yourselves, quit deluding yourselves with silly thoughts and words, quit acting like fucking idiots, like children, and get used to the truth – God don’t love you because God doesn’t exist. It’s all just dreams and fairy tales taking place inside your tiny little minds.

“WAYCISS!” - my first and final word on the Darren Scott “kaffir” saga

2011-09-10T07:37:00.001+01:00

Darren Scott, long time South African radio DJ and TV sports personality recently called one of his black South African colleagues - one Africa Tshoaedi - a kaffir in some pub.

Now there’s been a huge media uproar to this whole pathetic story, it’s the same old same old shizen, Scott’s been branded a racist, the whole usual number.

Darren Scott is a man’s man. I knew the guy from way back in Durban when he was a youngster and his personality is still essentially Darren Scott, Mr Nice Guy, full of fun but doesn’t like to be fucked around with. Basically Darren’s just a normal white guy who happened to excel in what he does. He’s made a lot of money as a sports commentator and it comes to this blogger as no surprise that a kaffir would smell out a nice white guy to bum money off - and not pay the shit back. Like one Africa Tshoaedi. I know. Because I’ve also lent kaffirs money in the past, helped them, etc. etc. – but got fuck all back in return. Basically, you should avoid getting involved with giving and lending to kaffirs because you are as sure as Hell going to come off second best because a contract or agreement is like worth used toilet paper to a kaffir.

Darren Scott lent this kaffir colleague of his thousands upon thousands of rands to purchase a house and cars, all the usual bling that unthinking kaffirs go blow money on as soon as they can get their grubby paws onto the shit and not surprisingly, you had one pissed off Darren Scott, who’d been taken for a cunt by this kaffir who had effectively stolen the money from Darren. So why not call the cunt a kaffir? I would have done worse, and many others would have too, like break the fucker’s knee caps for instance.

But now we come to the crunch. The term kaffir means non-believer or infidel (hey that’s me!) with its origins in Arabic if I’m not mistaken. So what’s wrong with a kaffir being called a kaffir? He is a non-believer and an infidel (like me!) so goddamned fucking what! Eh kaffir? I mean heck, I’m a white kaffir and I wear my title with pride! But call me an umlungu to my face and I’ll kill you.

Now WHITEY is called umlungu (by kaffirs) every single fucking day of his life in South Africa. He’s called umlungu by the president and this government, he’s called umlungu on the telly, the radio, in black-on-black conversation, he’s called umlungu every-fucking-where by every-fucking-kaffir! And that’s an extremely derogatory term for a White South African to be called.

Umlungu means scum, or sea-froth, washed up onto a lake’s shores, or a beach - this is blacks referring to whites as scum washed up upon the southern shores of Africa.

Sound good eh whitey? That’s what a kaffir thinks of you and he can call you this with impunity. But call a kaffir a kaffir and you get the Darren Scott treatment, they sue you, you get branded like a leper, a WAYCISS, they’ll try chuck you in jail, society shunts you out the back door… double-standards? Yes. One set of rules for the umlungu and another for the kaffir. Nah. Not with me.

So now we have poor ol’ Darren grovelling at the kaffir’s feet with public statements like this: “I HATE myself for using the k-word!” - “a-boo-hoo-hoo!!!” Yes Darren, you’re a great public personality, you entertain me no end with your shit.

Wake the fuck up white man! Don’t be taken for a cunt.

Marwinsing supports Bees Roux on the start of his murder trial

2011-09-07T23:53:00.001+01:00

That coon cop in Pretoria deserved to lose his life because he had no respect for Bees’s life, it’s that simple. Yet more proof of how corrupted blacks become the moment they’re given authority. May that dirty kaffir cop’s corpse rot in Hell for a thousand eternities. I’ve seen this movie at least twice before. As a twenty-year-old youngster, as a young cop, I had wild overly-enthusiastically ambitious black men attack me WHEREBY I HAD NO CHOICE but to sing them cradlesongs… *smooch* “Nite-nite sleep tight my darlings…” – the first was with my service pistol and the second a la Bees Roux – with fists and feet. I didn’t ask or invite them to attack me, like I’m sure Bees just wanted to get home and go to sleep. The ensuing trials were spooky experiences for a youngster to go through, my family didn’t know about them (I kept it to myself) so ja, Bees certainly gets this blogger’s fullhearted support.

How the West became Communist and chose to walk the road to extinction

2011-09-07T19:51:00.001+01:00

Easy-peezy. It’s all biological and chemical. The races have been in a perpetual state of war since the first ape spotted another ape that didn’t resemble him or his kind. And in a state of war you have four options: fight, flight, submit or posturize. Well, they (those in the West who hold political and economic power, i.e: the elitists) flooded former white countries with non-whites causing ordinary working class whites to flee (white flight) from their cities into new areas (gated communities and Hell) and the new-arrivals took the jobs in production, communication, education and administration, i.e: basically took over power in the lower and middle class ranks. And this has taken place to some degree (however miniscule) in every former white country around the world, without exception. Even as far as Switzerland. In Poland, they’ve even got a Nigerian member of parliament.

Thus, the disempowerment and genocide of whitey. Then, toss in your black economic empowerment and other Nanny State perks just for good measure, encourage the muds to outbreed you and you got a countdown to white extinction. And all this just so white Western elitists and Jewish banksters can make another buck. Whitey – take your territory back and fast before it’s too late. To magnify in on how all this takes place, study the Commi-Californication of California on the petri dish as an example.

My kinda guys

2011-09-06T17:26:00.001+01:00

Weirdo just goes on and on…

2011-09-05T21:48:00.001+01:00

Good stuff that came out of/comes out of… America

2011-09-04T22:22:00.001+01:00

(and so on…)

The Ed Hardy Idiots

2011-09-04T21:01:00.001+01:00

You’ll find them in the bigger cities. They wear Ed Hardy fake-faux crappy tattoo designer’s apparel, as do their women. They also sport conspicuous-looking off-the-shelf tribal tattoos and the like. They cruise around on Harley Davidson motor-cycles (silencers taken out, of course) and will meet as water-buffalo do at the Limpopo River estuary, for weekend breakfasts at places like Cafe Europa in Melrose Arch (like the Joburg EHI’s) and similar venues such as Sandton Square but they’ve never been on a biker’s rally or ridden with a true Hell’s Angel. Or on any biker’s journey worthwhile mentioning apart from the odd spin down a highway with their stockbroker pals.

These are the Ed Hardy Idiots. Oh and let’s not forget the steroids shall we? These half-baked eunuchs train at the big health clubs like Virgin Active on their Discovery HealthPlans and their pharmacy mates supply them with monthly doses of Argentinian cattle-cum to spike up their flabby biceps (and destroy their sex life) and here in Johannesburg we have bucket loads of them.

Ha-ha an MMA fighter one-third their size could floor one of these oafs good and proper.

Anybody got any Ed Hardy Idiots in their town? I got heaps in mine.

Lunar Abyss Deus Organum

2011-09-04T19:13:00.001+01:00

Russian Shamanic Dark Ambient. Beautiful earthy beats and drones with a ritualistic flavour, sound constructions made from mysterious instruments, layered with atavistic Karelian-type chants to take you away from that shit life you’re stuck in right now and off to a far better place. Check out his discography on Discogs or download a batch of his stuff from over here for starters. And he’s prolific. My rating for Lunar Abyss Deus Organum? * * * * * (what else!)

Some people just know how to make music. They make every thing sound so beautiful, so effortless, so perfect. Evgeny Savenko is cut from that rare mould of musician, a complete natural.

R Crumb feels the brunt of liberal cuntism – the Sunday Telegraph MSM filth of Sydney

2011-09-04T14:32:00.001+01:00

Threatened with violence, etc. in Oz because he draws wacky cartoons. R Crumb is GOD for all you idiot liberal CUNTS out there. His side of the story is on his website over here. I hate liberals and the MSM and everything that they stand for. Lo behold anyone who dares try tell me what or how I should draw or paint. A few have tried. I swear to fucking god I will find you, hunt you down then kill you. Slowly and painfully. Then I’ll take a shit on your corpse and paint myself doing it. You never fuck with a true artist.

I will continue to brow-beat WHITE Johannesburg until the goddamned COWS come home

2011-09-04T12:40:00.001+01:00

It is Sunday midday, mass started late gain today, my apologies but I was busy taking confession from a senior nun who has admitted to having sexual fantasies over her local padre. And dead bodies. But that’s okay - Welcome to WHITE Johannesburg.

My rural consultant and I were just earlier discussing the state of white society here in Johannesburg and we both came to the conclusion that they need a donderse wake up call. I have people playing games with me wasting my time and I warned my rural consultant that Joburg is asking for a Breivik to be pulled on them. When I say Joburg of course I refer to these BEE cunts too, all of them. The nicest folks in this town are the unemployed coons who hang around by Norwood dump because when they come running up to bum from me and I tell them to fuck off it’s like there’s a mutual understanding and they’re cool with that.

But wouldn’t Sandton City be a nice place to blow up? Imagine bronzed shrapnel flying all over the Midrand, Nelson Mandela’s statue, that ugly icon of liberalism, gone, once and for all. All in perfect timing with his death, in perfect timing with Uhuru!

Just think of all the liberals, black, white and all in between, one could cull in one foul hit. The abattoirs and droë wors slaghuise would be stocked with fresh pulverised meat for a long long time. It might require incurring large additional costs to build extra steaming vats and smoking rooms to boil out all the shit from the flesh; all the shit ranging from fancy French perfumes to god knows what else, all the bad karma carried by the collective consciousness of these uppity Johannesburgers, that vile stratum of filth who continue to demand things for nothing because that is all they’ve ever known, the toys that occupy their crappy little plastic narrow-minded fucking lives. Shitty BMWs, shocking pink Eveready battery-powered dildos and god knows what else.

This one’s for them - black, white and all in between – fuck’em… all.