Although, we have neither met in person nor by communication.
Source: Junk Mail
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Internet Sentences: 0007
It is nice and joyful to found you on the Internet search. I thought is beautiful to make you a friend in this regard.
Source: Junk Mail
Source: Junk Mail
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Internet Sentences: 0006
You think, ladies and gentlemen, to express our feelings the most respectful.
Source: Junk Mail
Source: Junk Mail
Friday, September 21, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Eva Jackson: 0016
Aubade
And they were clicking at their desks. You said:
No more
Stay here where the sheets lift you,
High above the gardens,
And sleep.
Spend time on the parts of me
That will turn out not to know you.
Come break an egg
Into the nothing emptiness of our kitchen
An onion swimming in a dish of water in the fridge,
To keep it fresh.
And they were clicking at their desks. You said:
No more
Stay here where the sheets lift you,
High above the gardens,
And sleep.
Spend time on the parts of me
That will turn out not to know you.
Come break an egg
Into the nothing emptiness of our kitchen
An onion swimming in a dish of water in the fridge,
To keep it fresh.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Victoria Williams: 0169
Viewing the new manuscript, he said: I’m not sure if it’s worse, or just as bad.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Eva Jackson: 0015
This goes out to the quiet landlady
Walking around her tenants’ house while they are out
Lifting and dropping
Her crucifix shining.
Walking around her tenants’ house while they are out
Lifting and dropping
Her crucifix shining.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Eva Jackson: 0014
Durban remodelled: one huge hill of suburbs, long grass, strong winds, silent streets. Your family's house was halfway up or towards the top of the hill. It was built on a pronounced slope, a deck, a tree, and many cages with poultry birds inside. They moved, white, orange parts, spattered the mesh, looked at home. You came back and graffitied the cages, with words suggesting to the birds that it was about time they left. The cages or the city, not clear.
There was a party, I lost my phone, I bargained with a petty thief on the road to get it back or a similar one.
Higher up on the hill, J had also come back, his family lived there. His face scrunched up when he smiled at his mother. They tore up a log for firewood and found a corpse. As the question unfolded of how it had gotten there, a river opened up, flowing down from the top of the hill. I looked out over the slow drop and realised that it was an effort to stop denying, and to look at the sea. When I did, I was aware that I was meant to find it beautiful, or to be in awe. But I felt fear. Of falling, of being swallowed up, of the inconvenience of wet feet, of the breakers. They were encroaching on the land now, and the river leading down was rimmed by rushes, lying flat in the flow. The waves so distantly below were enormous, dark green, foaming and rolling.
When I was in Grade Eleven I met a girl at a poetry competition. She wrote of a feeling of cuspness, of waiting to meet, greet and taste "all the shades of the bitter sea".
At some point I was in the river, moving towards the sea, turning shallow corners.
There was a party, I lost my phone, I bargained with a petty thief on the road to get it back or a similar one.
Higher up on the hill, J had also come back, his family lived there. His face scrunched up when he smiled at his mother. They tore up a log for firewood and found a corpse. As the question unfolded of how it had gotten there, a river opened up, flowing down from the top of the hill. I looked out over the slow drop and realised that it was an effort to stop denying, and to look at the sea. When I did, I was aware that I was meant to find it beautiful, or to be in awe. But I felt fear. Of falling, of being swallowed up, of the inconvenience of wet feet, of the breakers. They were encroaching on the land now, and the river leading down was rimmed by rushes, lying flat in the flow. The waves so distantly below were enormous, dark green, foaming and rolling.
When I was in Grade Eleven I met a girl at a poetry competition. She wrote of a feeling of cuspness, of waiting to meet, greet and taste "all the shades of the bitter sea".
At some point I was in the river, moving towards the sea, turning shallow corners.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Veertien Monoloë Deur Skarminkels, Losers En Idiote
Krueger, Anton and; Pillay, Pravasan. 2010. Shaggy – 14 rather amusing rambles.
Pretoria: BK Publishing. 131 p. Price: R135,00. ISBN: 978-0-620-50458-4.
Resensent:
M.L. Crous
Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University Port Elizabeth
Tradisioneel is ‟n shaggy dog story ‟n besonder langdradige relaas vol kenmerkende irrelevante insidente en die slot grens dikwels aan die absurde. Dit is wat die skrywers van hierdie veertien monoloë probeer nadoen, maar dis opvallend dat hulle stories kort en soms op die man af is. Hulle hou doelbewus nie by die oorspronklike pa-troon nie.
Die outeurs spot met die akademie, lewer kommentaar op uitbuiters en manipuleerders en soos wafferse nasate van Horatius en Juve-nalis val hulle bepaalde swakhede in die samelewing aan. Die spre-kers in die monoloë is figure wat ‟n mens in die alledaagse raakloop: die afgeleefde akademikus, die uitbuiterkunstenaar, die grapjas, ‟n eertydse satanis en die skottelgoedwasser-cum-taikoen wat die spot dryf met die Kambodjaanse bevrydingstryd en soos ‟n wafferse see-rower Jenny in besit is van verskeie besighede in Margate. Margate in Natal en Germiston aan die Rand speel ‟n sentrale rol. Margate spog selfs met sy eie M.I.T.
Soos dit ‟n satirikus betaam, dra die skrywers ook deeglike kennis van die konteks wat betref dit wat hulle bespotlik wil voorstel. “The Beans” handel byvoorbeeld oor iemand wat ‟n bemarkingsvergade-ring toespreek en dan die beeld van ‟n blikkie bone gebruik om sy punt oor te dra. Uit sy reaksie op die onsinnighede wat die groep kwytraak, lei ‟n mens af dat alles op dowe ore val en hy sluit sy voorstelling met ‟n kragwoord af.
Deurgaans word ook met eietydse studente se verwysingsraamwerk gespot. Hulle kan assosieer met popkultuur en is dikwels in staat om die belangrikste literatuurteoretiese begrippe uit te spu, maar tot meer as dit is hulle nie in staat nie. Ook feministiese herskrywings en herlesings van byvoorbeeld die geskiedenis word onder die loep geneem. In “The Director” word ‟n Jamie Uys-gedenklesing gelewer en spot die spreker heerlik met die Suid-Afrikaanse filmbedryf met sy toilethumor.
‟n Satirikus is nie altyd te eksplisiet nie. Hy spot deur middel van die taal, deur middel van ironie en deur onderspeling en ‟n mate van oordrywing. Soos met alle goeie satires is dit belangrik dat ‟n mens dit in lewende lywe sien afspeel. Om Nataniël of tannie Evita op papier te lees, is nie naastenby so snaaks soos om hulle op die verhoog te sien nie. Myns insiens is dit ook die geval met hierdie “nogal amusante” stories – die subtiele humor ten spyt.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Victoria Williams: 0167
Some kind of proselytising
neo-Baptist... his feet barely touched the floor.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
