the da silva code

WHERE ANTELOPE PLAY THE BLUES

2011-12-26T11:47:00.001+02:00

This is my SITREP ( situation report) for December 2011 so far.

A RANT

it has been a rocky road thus far and a trying time in my life, like whats new? its a case of same shit different year. the players are always the same and the routines always the same. climb slowly and then get shafted back to square 1.

i wrote about the latest "event" in a previous post titled "enter the dragon" but that is history and i will move on even though i am facing a new set of hurdles starting ""31st january 2012"", why am i not surprised? i will tell you why in the lines herewith following, i will also bring thanks to those that still showed me the time of day and always afforded me a kind smile even when i wasn`t in a position to supply a tip for their persistent excellent service, something that i found embarresing and battled with internally. i eventually felt obliged to ask for forgiveness for not tipping due to my life being in limbo financially and all sorts of other snags.

i met two exceptional people at the pub/ restaurant where i would treat myself to one solid meal a week on pay day and although i couldnt pay a gratuity they never once treated me badly or with disdain. i left a short note explaining my reasons for not being able to tip them but did give a timeline when i knew that i was going to be given a raise at my work place and then i would be able to do the right thing and pay my way. it is a nice enough pub/ restaurant and the food a wonderful change from the pies i keep in the fridge where i stay. it is such a small fridge that i can only keep minimal items therein. so it makes sense to stock easy stackable and packable fare such as pies. that makes up my dinner routine for the week till thursday, when i frequent the pub where the gazelle play the blues in strand. the two ladies are always there with a kind smile and friendly disposition and to them i say thank you.

the next item on my agenda this xmas time is the sad state of affairs in the world and its meaningless approach to what should be a relaxed family affair. instead it has become a money spinning disgrace with some fat fuck in a red suit stealing centre stage from what should be a day of remembrance of a great man with wisdom beyond his years. the followers of this day are the very same who claim to be super religious and faithful, but in reality they are just purveyors of misery and deceit. it is a case of the right hand giveth and the left hand taketh. in my understanding of christianity what we see the christians do today is totally against the teachings of the new testament and the christians are for some or other reason firmly still living within the misguided ramblings of war, hate, punishment and retribution of the old testament. ( there is a new testament but the christians love to harp on the old one. just a thought here, you cannot repair a 1950 vw beetle with a 2010 vw beetles manual and vice versa) in short, we need a new manual to live by, currently we are living by a 2000 year old manual and the christians even refer further back to a thousand years before. people were a tad different back then and we need to move with the times.

i wont allow these people to break me down any further and i wont allow their supposed god to hold me back any further. he has tried but i am a stubborn bastard and i not only "call" him but i raise him my soul. i have put the chips down and i await his next move.. bring it on old man, lets see what you got!

to god i say. bring it on, you wont break my spirit old man, i have you sussed out and i will bring myself back from the brink no matter what you send my way! sam and dean winchester have fuck all on my life, i have walked a long road out of hell and i will not be judged by your wicked followers or by you! i will climb back on my "horse" and into glory ride!

to santa clause i have the following to say:

Dear Santa, you sorry son of a bitch, where's my shit? I was good(ish) all year and still you brought me fuck all! I hope your sleigh crashes into the mountains on your way home and your reindeer have to eat you in order to survive you fat fuck! I even left a beer out for you, you ungrateful git! Go on a fucking diet you slob! I hope the elves shagged the shit out of Misses Clause while you were out delivering prezzies to corrupt politicians and despots. You are on my shit list you miserable bastard! Thanks for nothing Michael b da silva.

We have all been duped, flim flammed by this "so called" santa clause Lie! I am herewith consulting my lawyer, attorney, barrister and coffee barista. I am bringing formal charges in the equality, constitutional and world court against this nepotistic, charlatan that calls himself santa clause! He has NO right to decide who gets gifts or not due to those persons alleged bad behaviour! I propose and submit that santa clause is a teamster and in cahoots with ANC. Afterall he gave shabir shaik medical parole along with tony yengeni. There is CLEARLY fuckall wrong with them and they are as corrupt as politicians. This year he granted the ex chief of police a "get out of jail free" card. Yes! Santa is in a corrupt relationship with jackie selebi. Thus, members of the jury, Santa has no right to choose who has been good or bad. I therefore request that the IRS, SARS, FBI, HAWKS And the UN conduct a forensic audit on this charlatan before he destroys any more members of humanities xmas's! Santa is a fraud! Put that in your stocking and stuff it!

to the two wonderful ladies at the pub where the impala`s play the blues i say thank you once again. you were the island of reality in an ocean of misery and i wait with patience till i can see your friendly smiles once again. i have noted that there are just so many freaky chicks in this area known as strand and that all have mega issues and all manner of calamities such as bulimia, tourettes, bi polar, drug abuse, alcohol abuse etc that it is refreshing to be in your company even though it is just as a customer ordering my next draught beer. to the those that suffer from the maladies mentioned, it is imperative that you seek help from a group or from a fellowship where you can talk your issues out and find peace. if you are in relationships with people that are not standing by you and your situation you then need to leave that person and find hope and help elsewhere. it is time to stop being a victim and living in the victim mindset. you are worth it and you deserve happiness and true companionship. thank you. your kindness is the true meaning of the festive seaon unlike the overtly unhappy over the top christians who pray one minute and then swear like fucking troopers the next.
i never profess to be holy, just as honest as possible.

thank you to AB , CD and i wish you all the best BM.

to the rest of humanity i say. you aint seen nothing yet. bring it on and lets see what you got when we all face the music!

michael b da silva ( as honest as possible)
0789489847
michaelbdasilva@gmail.com

ENTER THE DRAGON

2011-11-06T09:36:00.001+02:00

ENTER THE DRAGON

Walking the line between right and wrong is a tender footed affair fraught with hidden agendas, two sides to the same silly story, finger pointing, character assassination, embellishment, self serving discontent and is a proverbial mine field littered with unexploded lies waiting to be used on an unsuspecting individual at the others bequest. I know this and I am living it daily, I accept that I am not a choir boy and have oodles of faults, short comings and hang ups but I am neither a liar nor an assassin of souls.

My life has been full and I have lived many fantastic adventures and rolled with really good people and I am very unhappy with the latest turn of events in my life. It is leaving me with a sour taste in my mouth and an acid sting in my psyche. Being thrown out unceremoniously is on nobodies agenda or wish list and then being expected to thank the person for disenfranchising me was a bridge too far and I cannot believe the gall and lunacy of this person who lives so firmly entrenched in their “bubble” world that they seriously think they have done me a grand favor by giving me 20 minutes to pack my bags in front of my very confused and worried mother all the while reminding me that she is on the line with her attorneys and if that I do not comply to her every whim, she will lay some sort of cooked up charges against me. This person is as deranged as they come and I seriously doubt that she qualifies to be able to raise rattlesnakes let alone children and yet here she is pretending to be doing this for the good of her child! Balderdash! What makes it worse is that she out and out lies to her own husband by telling him that I have a job in Johannesburg and that she is dropping me at the bus terminal so that I can go off and work. I must just clear up that I was given somewhat of a choice of either Durban or Johannesburg as a destination and had to give my answer then and there. She went into the Checkers and purchased a ticket and handed me R1000 and left me at Cape Town station. I am standing there still in a state of shell shock and the last 9 years, 8 of which I was the provider has come down to a blackmail payoff of one thousand rand!
I travelled the 20 hours on the bus to Johannesburg and used this time to organize temporary accommodation with a good family who opened their home to me and provided me with food and shelter. These are humble good hearted people unlike the deranged person who turfed me out like old trash. I had no job waiting like she lied about to her husband and others who have been propagating this blatant untruth as well. If they say its so then they will believe it and thus their conscience is clear, but the fact of the matter is that the LIE is still there but has merely been glossed over and polished up so as to save their image within the community. By the time I reached Johannesburg I had been contacted by another person who was aware of what had transpired and offered me Spartan shelter and a temporary job back from where I had just left. I said that I should at least stay a few days and see if anything beckons in Johannesburg but that I would by all likelihood take her up on her very kind offer. This just went to prove that there are still wholesome, kind people in the world who will go to lengths to assist those that are down trodden by the maniacal woman who lives in her empty castle. Yet another woman came to my assistance and all the way from London has opened her heart and wallet to assist me. I am standing in queue to work for or on behalf of her company in a west African country the moment all the paperwork has been finalized and I am told to pitch up at the starting line. Muslims and Christians came together and have been a lifeline to me in my time of need and confusion and the one who emptily sprouts absolute nonsense about God and praying is the very one who started all this in the first place. I resent those that use God as a crutch and faith to cleanse their own lies and unholy ways. Those in Johannesburg are solid down to earth people and showed true humanity as is the person from Cape Town and the Lady from London. I thank you for your gracious help and open hearted charity which I will repay through any which way I can. I am back where I started this journey 2 weeks ago Monday and I am working albeit for a very humble wage and I have Spartan accommodation but I am quite contented and I am very appreciative of the open heartedness of genuinely Christian people. I owe them a debt of gratitude and will never forget that they stepped up for me in my time of need and without question offered me help and shelter. I have not lied in any way to them and neither have I made any comments to bring undue or unnecessary perceived bad mouthing or libelous slander upon the person who has decided that sending me away is the answer to her problems. In other words, I am not talking shit about her, I am simply telling the truth and maybe she should do the same, its quite liberating and cathartic, however I don’t think she will as she is incapable of keeping the facts separated from the fiction and this is an inherent trait of a bi-polar individual.

To the unstable woman who has thrown my life into disarray I have only discontent and utter dismay for you. You lied to your spouse and have perpetrated nothing short of a crime on not only me but also your own grand son, daughter and your name. I hope you are happy. May misery smile upon you in abundance. Just remember the Karma wheel always turns and today`s elation is tomorrows misery, but I suspect you know all about the rollercoaster that is the bi-polar express.

“the world is like a carousel, spinning faster you better ride it well, its heaven and hell”. “the world is full of kings and queens who blind your eyes and steal your dreams, its heaven and hell”. (RJD)

there is no place in today`s world for tyranny, misery and oppression, just look around and see for yourself how it is changing and please don’t use God and religion to perpetuate your lies after all if you actually bothered picking up the little black book and paged to Exodus chapter 20 verse 16 it clearly states in the book that you love to say you believe in that you shall not give false testimony, in other words spelled out in layman`s terms “you must not lie!!” I detest those that pretend to be holy and of good heart but lie so openly and destroy those around them with impunity because they have money. All the money in the world cannot buy class, humility and secure you your place in heaven. Everyone has their day when we must stand and be counted for what we have done, I am quite comfortable in the knowledge that my day will be a doddle and my spiritual higher entity will not be too harsh on me, I have made peace with my past and openly shared them for the whole world to see however I don’t think I will be standing in the queue that you will be in. there is no hell other than the dark recess of your own being that will torture you internally and that is a fate worse than any person can imagine. Old age is creeping up on you and it is those that you have downtrodden that will someday have to take care of you when once again you are in diapers. Now I sure as hell wont be there to clean up after you but I am alluding to those whose lives you are destroying that are going to be there and that is when payback becomes a bitch. This has happened all too many times and half the time it is because it is deserved. I truly believe you will have a miserable old life. If you are indeed a Christian person as you say you are I really suggest you get praying real hard , real soon and real seriously for your god to forgive you your sins.
If you don’t you will “enter the dragon” alone.

Michael B Da Silva. (disenfranchised, but not for long)

THE SHOW MUST GO ON

2011-10-19T14:48:00.000+02:00

2001: THE YEAR WE MAKE CONTACT.

THE YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY

2001 was the beginning of the end in my private security business and the start to a whole new world as we know it. The 9/11 attacks spun the world upside down and caught the INTEL community with their pants collectively around their ankles. 2001 was the year i lived dangerously and it all culminated with the near dismemberment of my penis! Yes it was that hardcore!

I had a very financially viable security consultancy private business and from time to time i utilised friends to fulfil tasks such as armed escort support and on banking runs for clients. We were entrusted with a lot of cash and my clients trusted me fully. I unfortunately could not reciprocate that trust in my utilisation of friends in the field. One was an ex police man who had the “street credibility of working for the security branch at John Vorster Square in Johannesburg “ and was also involved in Angola with me on the Executive Outcomes contract from 1993/94. Deon was a good guy( once )but suffered from the inability to keep his shit wired tightly and was a lush. I am saddened to have to admit this as he was my best friend but he just never could distinguish between work time and drunk time. Anyway, i digress and should stay on the path of the storyline and tell it with absolute truth and accuracy. I had after leaving EO in 1994 worked at first for a dude who owned a security company but had grown way out of his ability to run it as a sole proprietor and sub contracted me to help him out with the day to day operations of his very profitable little operation. This should have been my first red flag about the security industry in South Africa and the lengths that those involved in the industry will go to, to make money at the expense of those actually doing the graft. i worked on the ground in uniform as an example to the guards as how to look and conduct themselves while on site and we were in Joburg town the day the ANC and Inkatha Freedom Party got all busy with each other where many Zulu Impi`s were shot full of lead. My boss and i were in the next road providing added security to our biggest client at the time, the chaos was absolutely amazing. A motorbike traffic cop came riding passed and had no helmet on and was screaming unintelligibly that the “munts” were killing each other! He had no weapon in his holster and we took it that in the chaos he had lost it. It was crazy and fun as hell all at once and we were living large running around toting our weapons and shooting our guns in the air like cowboys. This was bat country and law was secondary to everything else that day. Time went on and the groups involved “kissed and made up” and the elections loomed like a sword of Damocles over the country. Stories and rumour was abound and everyone was stockpiling for the imminent civil was and it was now that i was contracted to protect some very naive dilly Italian journalists covering our first “democratic: elections and i had roped Deon in to help me with the contract. Deon has had a drinking problem since school and was effective but trying all the time as we were doing serious work and his predilection for booze did pose many headaches while we were busy on the ground with our clients from Italy. It all went off ok in the end and Deon managed to keep his demon at bay, only just. I would later work with Deon on the Rolling Stones tour to the country as VIP drivers and we drove the band members around for two weeks without major problems although booze was a mainstay and overriding factor to Deon as it would prove to be in the future.

After many years of crazy shit and getting wild we ended up working for the same security company in Johannesburg where i was employed as the operations manager and Deon as a supervisor. We were very effective at our jobs and proved that our prior training was vital to the professionalism we showed at work. Unfortunately Deon could not entirely disengage himself from the bottle and would start arriving at work hung over and sometimes still pissed. It is worthwhile noting that in 1997/98 Deon and i worked for a company called Duchini and this is when he met his future wife and mother of his first born. This is also the time when i finally got divorced from the most miserable woman ever to stalk the face of the planet. The company ended up in liquidation and Deon was sent to work at the retail shop they had in Joburg town where he was supposedly the manager. I remained at the companies head office and stayed there till the liquidators paid us out. At this time Deon`s wife was many months pregnant and went to Baragwanath hospital to give birth to her child. We weren’t that close as friends prior to this and she and i had a mutually tolerant relationship due to my friendship with her husband. This would change when Deon would ask me to fetch his wife from the hospital when she was discharged and take her and his new born child home as he was in a pub closed to his work place and didn’t want to waste good drinking time. This persisted when i was asked to drive his wife and son to the clinic for the initial check ups. His wife and i simply began to grow closer together. Eventually i was driving her to work and picking her up from work while Deon was too focused on drinking. As it would happen they were told to vacate their flat due to non payment of rental and i said it was cool that they stay in my house a i had recently separated from my ex satanic wife. This was win, win for everyone. We would all frequent my Dad`s restaurant next door and talk while watching our favourite television program “The Soprano`s”, well it was her and my favourite program while Deon sat and stuttered at the bar. Our relationship was all but set in stone and she and i were connecting on a level that far super ceded her relationship with her own husband. One evening we decided to go home and put Deon`s son to bed and left Deon lurching at the bar and i and his wife were suddenly overcome by the necessity to jump each others bones which we did with much vigour. Little problem here, Deon decided to sway home and walked in while his wife was riding high up on the horse Rodeo style. I panicked a tad and ejected her off to the left and Deon then did the manly thing and threw the keys at me and launched himself over the bed and for some unknown reason to me grabbed my still erect penis and tried to yank it out from the root. I was horrified , mortified and felt all kinds of violated! He then punched me on the back of my head whereby i retorted that i would like to fight him like a man and pulled up my tracksuit pants and attacked this clown that had broken every written and unwritten rule in the mankind handbook! The fight soon degenerated into an all out one for one slug fest and the he broke a pottery plant pot on my head, this i didn’t take lightly and proceeded to use his general facial area to break the pots pieces into smaller pieces. We were worse than a WWE smackdown match and we were soon exhausted. Problem with Deon is he tends to bleed like a pig and was oozing haemoglobin from his mouth and nose all over my carpet in the room. All the while this was happening his wife sat there in a corner stricken with panic. He then made his way to the kitchen and i was worried he was retrieving a knife and on his return to the “battlefield” i smacked him on the left temple with my expanding “Fitzwilliam” baton which had the desired effect of instantaneously putting him down and out of the fight. He made his way to the bedroom he was renting in my house and his wife who was using a small broken piece of the plant pot as an ashtray went off to join him and his child who was sleeping in its cot. I was concerned about his swelling head due to the blow from the expanding baton and called the paramedics. On arrival the paramedics asked me if i had been shot due to all the blood and i replied that it wasn’t mine and let them in. The paramedic noted the for sale sign on the gate and complimented me on the tiles in the lounge and dining room, i volunteered to show him around and try flog the place to him. Deon was treated and his head wrapped in a bandage, his head resembled a planet and was immense. The paramedics left and told us they would not report the assaults that had taken place after seeing pictures of Deon and i from Angola on the bar wall and said it was just water under the bridge. The following morning Deon was sitting in my kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and was brandishing a large screwdriver in his left hand and told me to take his wife and leave my house and when we get back he will be gone. His wife and i went off to the Jazz Cafe at the Glen shopping centre for a draught beer and this is when i informed her of the violation perpetrated upon my person by her husband. We laughed and the seriousness all but evaporated and i chalked it up to another one for rock n roll. Deon had that morning answered me when i asked how he felt and i was alluding to his swollen head and he misunderstood and answered me “how do you think i feel, seeing my wife impaled on my friends dick?” and this is where my alter ego “VLAD THE IMPALER” was born, I did the Transylvanian accent and all. The months after “the incident “were great except when Deon got drunk and stood by my front gate chucking stones on the roof and screaming obscenities like trailer trash and this occurred plenty . She and i dated for a while but like all things it came to an end and we moved on. I suppose it all boils down to shit happens?

While we were working for the security company where i was operations manager and Deon was the supervisor i had an event that was to change my path in life quite a bit. One Friday i was off duty and was moon lighting with a company doing cash trips to the bank with a guy named George Liverdos who was the contract liaison so to speak. He would call me up and if time permitted i would follow trucks to the borders for extra cash or do these Friday banking runs. It was July and it was the last Friday of the month, the bank was packed and when we approached we didn’t notice anything strange till we actually got inside and the reality set in that we had just walked into a bank robbery in progress! The atmosphere was heavy and the first batch of robbers were leaving with a hostage as we entered through the magnet controlled booths. The robbers were allowing people in but allowing anyone to exit and they were telling the clients in the bank to remain standing very still in the queues so as to not raise awareness. This obviously worked as we had not noticed this happening, we were too busy scanning our surroundings and people passing by on approaching the bank. One of the staff members was ushered past me just outside the bulk teller booth and i said to her “what is going on?” she replied with terror in her eyes that they were being robbed and this is when i noted the robber walking directly behind her with a .38 special revolver in pointed in the small of her back. The bank employees name was Rhea and she was panic stricken. The robber took no notice of me or George and marched her to the doors which work by magnet release and some idiot outside was holding the door ajar so the outer door could not release. The robber shouted angrily at the security guard to open the door but he couldn’t as a member of the public was preventing the magnet from closing the circuit thereby allowing the door to open. By now i had drawn my .45 ACP pistol and was fast approaching the robber who had a bag draped over his left forearm which contained cash and the .38 special in his right hand firmly pressed against Rhea`s back, i shouted loudly for him to drop his weapon. I was now only a few feet from him and i kept closing the gap aiming directly at his face. I tried to make a grab for the .38 special and with my right hand i smacked this clot on the head with the butt of my gun which shook him quite a bit, he then got very mad at me and started to bring the .38 special to firing point and he was fingering the trigger, i was busy bringing the second blow down onto his head with the butt of my pistol when i noticed this was going to get messy so i tipped my .45 ACP and placed the muzzle directly against his head and squeezed off the shot! The 180 grain Winchester silver tip hollow point penetrated his skull on the top left side and a piece of the jacket exited his right cheek. The robber was instantaneously incapacitated and went done like a sack of potatoes. His head was smoking from the muzzle blast which was at contact distance, this is the muzzle was against his head when the shot was fired and his brain tissue was ‘mushrooming” out the hole. It is noteworthy mentioning that it was still winter and i was wearing a big black and white camouflage jacket and donning ray bans inside the bank as i had a terrible eye infection in my right eye. I turned and immediately shouted the command for everyone to lie down immediately which was followed to a T as if they were all members of a rhythmic display team. I immediately asked who was armed as i didn’t want any surprises and one black dude volunteered that he was packing, i asked him sternly what the hell his story was and he replied that he was a police man. This was entirely plausible as the bank we were in ( Standard bank Jules street Malvern) is less than a hundred metres from the Cleveland police station and it was a Friday and the end of the month so it was completely possible that there would be cops in the bank doing their banking requirements, this particular “cop” was in civilian attire but i was thinking quick and my mind was racing with all the possible eventualities and i thumbed the safety on and holstered my piece telling the cop to take over on scene. He then jumped up and dashed past me and out the bank. I suspected he went for backup as it wasn’t two minutes and police started descending on the bank from every angle, hell there was even a helicopter circling outside. I gave my statement to the detectives that arrived on site along with about 20 members of the public, George and the branch manageress along with a very shaken Rhea. The branch was closed for further business and the customers were sent to the Bedford centre branch if they still had to conduct their banking requirements. George and i were allowed to leave the branch and we too made our way to the Bedford centre branch as we had not yet conducted our tasks. When we arrived at the Bedford branch we were greeted by a wall of security guards who immediately parted and allowed us entry. They had no doubt heard of this crazy white man wearing sun glasses and shooting robbers was coming to their branch. George and i entered and we noticed a few of the Malvern branch customers who on seeing us enter the bank left their spot in the queue and left the bank altogether. This was one hell of a day and when my boss found out at the security company , he told me to take the evening off as he didn’t want someone still wired with adrenaline on duty that night. I took this opportunity to take Deon`s wife to dinner at an Oriental restaurant. This shooting was not long after another in which i had entered my parents house while my mom was being held at gunpoint by three home invaders. That story ended with one of the bastards chest being “ventilated” 5 times by my .45ACP pistol, he however still managed to stumble off and die elsewhere.

2001 was a crap year in the big scheme of things and it nearly cost me not only my life but i was just about “de horned” like a Rhino. I am still shocked after all these years that Deon would do something so dire such as try and yank my tally wacker out by root!

Deon if you ever read this. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

2002 had its share of really good times which were all spent at a restaurant called Ze`s in Oakdene and was run by a woman who i still have a deep almost cosmic connection with. Michelle and i ran what we called our tribe and it was just a load of pals who would get together and party till the cows came home. This was the last drive so to speak before mediocrity and what feels like old age set in. It has been a long time since i have gone APE (Animalus Particus Extremis) and i dearly miss the days at Ze`s with Michelle and the tribe and our very strange traditions and practices including the odd one called “bite club”. i was basically used as a chew toy. Michelle had bitten my arm one evening with so much ferocity that it left a scar that was visible for a few years thereafter. We were very much like the Bohemians of the Moulin Rouge. It was one hell of a cool year and unfortunately the last great party.
Its sad to grow old and live miserably!

Michael B Da Silva (former wild man desperately seeking one last hurrah)

http:michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
http://thedasilvacode.com

THE ART OF GOING APE

2011-10-18T20:22:00.003+02:00

LA VIDA LOCA
THE ART OF THE PARTY ANIMAL
Going ape , a guide

Before we start on this journey i feel obliged to warn you that what follows is a hard core journey deep into the heart of the wildest of all animals: Animalus Particus Extremis known by its acronym APE and that therefore may clear up any confusion when i explain that we went APE shit etcetera. These stories are all true and in some instances may still be considered illegal. I will change the names of some of those that partook in these wild rambunctious shenanigans to “protect the identities of the guilty”. Others i will name as i don’t really care what they think or they`re dead. This story is a compendium of various parties and generalised wild life instances throughout the years spanning 1982 up until 2002 when i abruptly stalled into mediocrity and middle age.

Part 1. The adventures of CAPTAIN CUPBOARD..

So, to start the ordeal off that you are now part and parcel of, lets take a journey in Marty Mc Fly`s 1.21 jiggawatt flux capacitor powered De Lorean and go back to the future. Date time group, 1982 when at the tender age of 12 i discovered the wonderful world of the emerging male patterned libido. I was pals with “an older woman” who lived down the street and she was 15 and in high school, i was a tender foot and in my last year of primary school. She was blessed with gargantuan boobs and legs that spanned endlessly up in to the stratosphere, it didn’t hurt either that she had a soft spot for me and i, a well hard spot for her and we would spend many hours exploring all the fun aspects of playing house ,house. I lost my cherry to a girl named Karin and man she was adept at the art of fornication! One afternoon my German buddy and i cooked up what we though was a sure fire plan for us to both “stoink” Karin by utilising a cunning plan which entailed super stealth perfect timing for it to be a success, the basic idea was for me to get “jiggy” with Karin as per usual in the lounge and my pal would hang back in my room and then all of a sudden like stroll into the situation where in i would suggest a ménage a trios and knowing Karin, i suspected she would be more than agreeable to this turn of events. I got very busy and was diligent to a T with much huffing and puffing going on. I awaited my pals entrance as all this was getting tiring and i could use a beer break but the German was nowhere to be found so i assumed he must have gotten cold feet and made a bee line for home. Once we were done we took a bath and much soap lathering was done by myself, i was seriously enjoying myself and was pooped by the time she went home. I went to my room to put my clothes and while i was putting my shoes on and was startled by a rustling sound in my cupboard! I was flabbergasted to witness the German getting out my cupboard! What the hell had he been doing in there and why did he climb into the cupboard in the first place? The idiot was supposed to help tie this one down and he left me dangling out there to fend for myself against this freaky nymphomaniac. The German would hence forth be known as (cue the dramatic super hero music) CAPTAIN CUPBOARD!!!! I went into high school very wise to the ways of the fornication and captain cupboard i suspect was very wise to the way of the hand! I still wonder what the hell he was doing in the cupboard for more than an hour and a half? I suspect he may have been canoodling with himself and choking his chicken!

Part 2 THE FORMATIVE YEARS.

Standard 6 was typical run of the mill affair with every male trying to snag a piece of the competition who were of the female variety and the sneaky beer drinking was practised at every opportunity. By all accounts i was a nerdish dude in the first two years of high school and spent most my spare time at my friends house where we drank copious amounts of booze and getting the “stink finger” action on with my pals sisters. It was all within the accepted parameters that we lived by. Standard eight was an awakening moment when i made acquaintance with what would be my closest friends for the next three years. We were a tight group and partied hearty at every opportunity. We were a co-ed group and stood by one another like comrades in arms and sometimes we were in each others arms quite literally.. we were divided into two groups within the main group as some of the group did art and the others like myself , Clyde, Deon and other wild men did Biblical Studies. None of us had any ideas of becoming ordained men and simply chose Bib Studs because we sucked at art and the teacher was a drop dead bomb shell named Mrs Ferguson who had the longest legs i had ever seen, coupled to that the tight pants and i was sold on this whole Biblical studies story. We threw the wildest house parties at my folks house while they were out and it always degenerated into a drunken melee and someone puking in the garden. My pal Clyde had a horrid budgie yellow Audi 100 from standard 9 onwards and this car although ugly as sin was the epitome of rebel cool. every beer we drank we would chuck the empty can in the back on the floor so it was a case of empty beer cans avalanching out the door every time we opened the doors, how we did not get arrested still eludes me ! this car signified our individuality and reckless couldn’t care a shit attitudes , we were the coolest dudes we knew and didn’t care what others thought! The metal music rocked and our school bags stood testament to such greats as Dio, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, KISS, Motley Crue, Poison , Metallica, Man O War and King Diamond which were all festooned on our bags. It is only with the advantage of hind sight that i now see that poor Mrs Ferguson must have thought she was being punished by having all these metal heads in her Biblical Studies class. We were not the sneaky types and would sit on the field at break time and enjoy a beer with our sandwiches at lunch time, there was not a malicious bone in our bodies but we just ran with our own set of rules within our very close knit group. We would gather at my parents house and on one occasion once the booze was all but drunk we even got into smoking the Rooibos tea bags and our Matric year end blow out at one of the girl`s house was legendary. We drank till the cows came home and even a condom covered carrot was brought into play and was used as a phallic substitute with fellatio being mimicked on its “person” so to speak. It was hilarious and the photographs speak volumes. The constant partying and bunking school left little time for learning and studying and really was a bothersome annoyance that i suppose we had to endure, to be perfectly honest i cannot believe we passed matric at all! Shortly before the end of the year we threw a monster party at my friend who was in tech`s uncles flat and it proved to be one of those memorable evenings that were remembered for years to come. It was akin to a sixties love fest and the women weren’t to shy and coy at all, these were a different group than our close one at school. They were all a tad younger and were keen to hang with the matrics as we had street “cred” so to speak as being wild and untamed things. I was quite taken by one particular chick named Jackie and she seemed game so it all began. My pal Larry was entertaining a girl called Charlene and dazzling her with his wit and command of the beer can and i was going cave man and dragging a very willing , giggling Jackie off to the open plan bedroom area, i was soon joined by Larry who had by now secured Charlene. We got busy right there in front of people standing around not seeming to care none too much. We had a speed race to see who could screw fastest and someone had a camera popping off pictures. I truly hope they never surface. Once it was all done and dusted Jackie and Charlene upped and left with other people, my friend Lionel ended up with Jackie and shame he was left to deal with my sloppy seconds. It was all sport though and no one was hurt or did anything they didn’t want to do. Lionel was being a naughty boy as he had a steady girl friend called Claudine and here he was shagging some other skanky ho. I must just explain that Claudine and i had some shenanigans of our own so she wasn’t all innocent either. Her sister Charlene ( not the one from the wild Party) was juggled between Larry and i when we couldn’t find alternatives for the evening.

PART 3 THE ANIMAL EMERGES.

High school was a mish mash of various parties copious imbibation of alcohol and a lot of sexercise. All in all it was all very educational. The year after i left school i spent 6 months prior to my military call up partying like a true professional bedding anything with a heartbeat. Here enter Daleen and her very own special personality. She was what is known as a “clingon “, you know the type that constantly hangs around and gets all crazy when you make advances on any other woman even though you are not a “parcel” per se. This clinginess however does not apply to her though and she is a very free agent who does the rounds among the circle of friends very willingly. Safe to say that she is all kinds of complicated. One moment she is ready to scratch the eyeballs out of some other females skull because i may be checking her out and then the next moment she is taking care of my friend Mark or Deon or the afore mentioned “Captain Cupboard”. This crazy shit persisted all the time i knew her. One evening in particular we were all hanging out at a mates place where we were gathered in the pool room enjoying the musical mellow styling`s of Metallica and AC/DC. I had been partaking in much imbibing of the nectar of the gods and my bladder was near rupturing point so i made my way to the toilet to unleash the rivers of Babylon, as i left the pool room i slid the sliding door closed behind me and turned to head off to the toilet when all of a sudden i was startled by a huge thud behind me. I turned to see Daleen sitting flat on her arse with a dazed and confused expression on her face and a large red impression on her forehead, the dazed and confused look was different to her standard one that she sported everyday. She had jumped up to follow me to ensure that i was not leaving to whore about with some other chick and had not noticed that the door was shut and had run full tilt into the luckily reinforced laminated shatter proof glass. She quite literally sat there with her eyes spinning around in her head, it was hilarious and she was embarrassed as all hell, she did not take much to the fact that i was hosing myself at her and she duly stormed off with one of the other guys to “play finger hockey with”, i believe it was Deon. Later that night we had another catastrophe brewing when another pal Lionel climbed to the top of the spot light tower at the perimeter of the show jumping arena. I suppose it is worthwhile explaining that the house we were at was on the same property as a stables and show jumping training facility owned by a friend called Dean`s parents. Around the show jumping training arena there were high towers with spot light for illumination, obviously. Anyways , back to the Lionel debacle that was unfolding. Lionel had been trying very hard to snag Daleen all day but she was just not into Lionel all that much and kept brushing him off and hanging onto either myself or Mark and when he was busy elsewhere she would be attached to Deon. Lionel was besides himself that she didn’t want to know his story so he clambered to the top of the flood lights with his beer and lamented loudly as if in a Shakespearean play at how unfair life was that this chick wouldn’t shag him. We were more entertained by his production than concerned that he would fall and bust his neck. Daleen stood there at the bottom pleading seriously with him to climb down and not jump. We were by now besides ourselves with laughter. She even agreed to providing him with a “mercy fuck” if he complied and got down from the perch. This mercy shag never materialised because i was later rolling around with her on some fibre glass which made us itch like a bitch, to cure ourselves we took a swim in the pool and made like “fishes”. There was much moving and wave making in the pool. Lionel eventually climbed down and staggered off home to lick his proverbial wounds and besides he had Claudine waiting at home. These parties persisted unabated and X rated for the entire 6 months, i am truly surprised that i did not drink myself into a coma quite literally . in all it was one hell of a time.

PART 4 THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

After my time spent in the military i was unleashed on the general populace once again and i embarked on an assault of biblical proportions. Mark and i were flat mates and the flat was turned into party central. Old faces were still cruising through the doors with Charlene, Daleen et al still in the loop but we had expanded our repertoire to include many new female faces. Mark had his girlfriend from Cape Town with him but their relationship was not doing so well as she was a very reserved church going over the top Afrikaans goody two shoes type and she could not stand me and blamed me for being a bad influence on Mark. One evening after going ape shit at Bella Napoli and partying like wild and untamed things we decided it was time to go home and get at least 2 hours sleep before getting up for work on Saturday. At the corner of Claim street and Pretoria street the paw paw hit the fan in spectacular fashion when we were cut off by two black dudes in an Opel Monza 2 litre GSi and i was very vocal in my unhappiness with these two “bananas in pyjamas” and swore them and their heritage. Uncouth louts could have caused an accident! The one black guy produced his police ID card and gestured to it, i immediately flipped him the bird and told him to observe my ID and then i hung a right turn with my Mazda 626 2 litre SL and floored that sucker, the chase was on! In the car i had in the back seat Mark and his then girlfriend Minki and my co pilot for the trip was Deon who was a cop attached to the security branch at John Vorster square where he worked “undercover” at the post office going through post destined for the ANC, he would intercept all manner of post cards and letters containing names of those that were to be i suppose kept tabs on by the security forces as undesirables. Undercover at the post office! Break my balls! Its an oxymoron if there ever was one. Anyways after negotiating the right turn and stabbing the pedal to the floor i took us on a high speed car chase down Claim street with the Opel Monza hot on our tails, i shot red lights and at one time had the car up to 160 km/h. All the while i had Minki sitting in the back between the front seats screaming non stop in total terror! Mark was giving me a constant update of the cops behind us with Deon looking out for obstacles ahead. We were a slick team except for the ear shattering screaming emanating from Minki. At the bottom of the hill just before the cinema complex called Ster City i negotiated a hard right turn and sped away, the cops overshot and had to do a Uturn in traffic to follow us. We stopped on the corner of Delvers street and Market street to let Minki out the car who was by this time frantic and we had to take a leak. Suddenly the Opel pulled up and the one cop jumped out brandishing his police ID like a shield to which Deon produced his police ID and informed these two black cops who were in civilian clothes and in an unmarked car of his mustering in security branch. The tone immediately changed and the cops became very meek and then we noted that the one in the passenger seat had a beer in his hand and so naturally we took the moral high ground and frowned upon these two members of the police partaking in such irresponsible actions like drinking and driving and we demanded their names, rank and commanding officer! To this the cop hopped back in his vehicle switched the headlights off and turned right into Market street and sped away up a one way against the traffic flow. We had gotten away with it, phew! I still however had to endure the squealing of Mark`s girlfriend all the way home and listen to Mark`s half hearted attempts at consoling her. We had a blast and it was yet another crazy arse story for the vault. Mark and i did venture back to Hillbrow the following week along with Deon as usual however this evening , Mark had made an alternative arrangement to get home which left Deon and i to terrorise the bar at Bella Napoli until 02h00 when we decided it was time to go home. On arriving at my car i noted that my crappy parking earlier had punctured the rear right tyre and as Murphy and his laws would have it, my spare tyre was also bereft of air and inflation. We decided to drive on the flat anyway as it was only 20 clicks or so to get home. Deon dropped off into unconsciousness due to the inordinate quantities of alcoholic beverages he had consumed during the evening, i was driving at approximately 20 kilometres an hour and was freaked out by a guy riding a bicycle with clothes pegs clipped on his pants to prevent oil from the chain dirtying his smart pant. He pedalled past us and the mere thought of this clown on his bicycle at 03h00 in the morning beating us drove me quite literally insane! I pulled up next to the “mini land” park and climbed out the car, drew my handgun and started to shoot the offending flat tyre. Deon woke with a start and dove out the passenger window and crawled for cover, he was under the impression we were under attack from ANC gunmen or something. When we eventually arrived at the flat i parked the car and went up to get much needed sleep. In the morning when i went outside to check on the car i noticed that i had parked half on the pavement with the driver door still ajar. Only then did i see the three bullet holes in the wheel arch, i retorted to Deon and Mark who had dragged himself downstairs that i had killed my car dude. It was one hell of an evening and the miracle Mazda as i fondly called it had gotten us home in one piece.

A few weeks later Mark and i decided to frequent a house of ill repute and make as much shit as we could. We had watched some or other movie and wanted to replicate the whole rock star room trashing thing, i believe we had recently watched Pink Floyd`s The Wall at the Mini Kine in Hillbrow and were quite taken by the lead actor`s character when he trashes his hotel and chucks the tv out the window. With this embedded in our subconscious along with a bottle or two of bourbon we head off the Royal Park Hotel in town to chase up some shit. It was not long before we were led up to the rooms, i was one floor above Mark`s floor and i immediately started with the rock star trashing routine. Once i had chucked stuff around to my hearts content i then decided to throw the vanity stool through the window onto the road below. There wasn’t a television in the room so the stool had to suffice and it flew fantastically. The large Nigerian types downstairs at the door immediately made their way towards the lifts and immediately made my way down the staircase to call mark. He was already pulling up his pants and i shouted at him that we were there to trash the rooms and not shag the whores! I was truly bothered by this! Did he have no self discipline? We leaped and bounded down the staircase and exploded out the door of the hotel with what sounded like a tribe of Philistines chasing us! We got in the car and i negotiated a “Steve McQueen- esque” getaway with the Nigerians shooting at my by now out of range weaving miracle Mazda. These Nigerians couldn’t hit a barn let alone us driving like stuntmen. Once again the miracle Mazda saved our bacon.

PART 5 RAISING HELL

Friday the thirteenth was a strange day in our calendars as we would frequent various cemetery`s for some undefined reason or rationale entirely. It just seemed like a good idea and whenever Friday the thirteenth came around it was guaranteed that we would wind up in a cemetery somewhere talking shit and drinking beer, oh and on one occasion we decided that the two crosses adorning some ancient grave site would make groovy ornaments at home and thus we departed the cemetery that night with two crosses in hand. One was placed on the floor of the car and the other on the back seat and covered with my army poncho. That night Deon and his brother Johnny were with me and on the way home we noticed two chicks hitchhiking on the road in Glenesk Southern Joburg which is a shitty area even back then. I did a near perfect hand brake turn and sped back a few hundred metres and did another stopping right next to these two females. I retorted that it is dangerous to walk at night and that there are weirdo`s out there that could do them harm, i still had the gumption to ask them if they are mad! In retrospect i suppose i was warning them about us. They accepted our courteous invitation to be dropped at their home and sat in the back with Johnny. The one chick in horror reported to her pal that there was a tombstone on the floor of the car( lying on its side semi covered by the poncho covering the one the other chick was sitting on). The other chick then with a warble in her voice asked what she was sitting on and i just could not resist and with my best Jack Nicholson accent i told her “its my grandmother” the chick screamed in terror and we hooted with laughter. She was all over the inside of the car trying not to sit on this tombstone. Shame, she must have been terrified but i am very sure they never ever hitchhiked again. We left them very shaken and very stirred at their parents house and set off to deliver Deon, Johnny and the two tombstones at their house at 100 Tramway street Turfontein which was directly across from a church. The next day Deon called me at work and told me we had to get rid of the tombstones with immediate effect as his step father had during a marathon drinking session crawled to the cupboard where the crosses were hidden and when he opened the door was quite freaked out. I arrived at the house and duly carried the offending tombstones to my car and dumped them in the boot ion full view of the congregation across the street milling around after the church service, i can only imagine what they must have been thinking. I drove down Tramway street and leaned one cross up against a tree in the middle island between the two sides of the road and the other i left lying on the bowls club lawn as an ominous reminder to the old dodgers that their time was nearing.
One evening Mark, Deon and i were bored and decided to set a traffic cops car alight and it was magnificent. He parked his car on the pavement outside his house in daisy street Rosettenville and was one of those true punk cops that loved writing tickets and busting peoples chops so we have no guilt for this act of necessity. I had a two litre coke bottle brim full of petrol and casually poured it over the car and struck a match and watched that sucker light up. The car was not totally burned but the siren light had totally melted to the roof and the outside of the car was burned black but was still driveable as he did drive it like that to work. I wish i were a fly on the wall to hear the excuse he gave at work, that would be priceless. We were also the instigators of a little fire at our old school and the shooting of 15 holes in a blackboard. We also did try and steal a putco bus as we wanted to ramp it into the Wemmer Pan lake but some do gooder on the ball security guard put paid to that plan. I can neither confirm nor deny the events of one evening that saw a vehicle ending up in the Wemmer Pan lake. I will leave it at that.
Mark was a hooligan but a totally solid guy and would stand by your side no matter what and i am saddened by the events that led to his untimely death. He had wanted to go out and party hearty as his then wife was 8 months pregnant and he wanted one last hurrah so to speak and had asked me to join him but i was not in the mood that night and stayed home with my now ex wife and step son. Mark disembarked on an assault of the bars and ended up at a real dive called The Captains Cabin 100 metres or so from the flat and he must have been chatting up the wrong chick because when he walked home he was shot twice in a drive by shooting. He died there on the pavement less than 40 metres from home. His killer was never found. After this event i decided to hang up my crazy hat and quieten down a tad. At Mark`s funeral Deon was apall bearer and had to fuck up on the day. When he rested the coffin on the straps he stepped back three steps not noticing the green carpeting covering the half filled grave alongside from the service earlier and in all his brilliance fell into the grave next door to Mark`s grave. It was like something out of a movie. We hooted with laughter and even Mark`s folks laughed and said that we couldn’t even get the funeral right without fucking it up. Deon was always the casualty and i am seriously surprised he is still alive today as he is his own worst enemy.

PART 6 THE WIND DOWN

We partied hard and some paid the ultimate price. These are a few of the wild parties we had but one that really was funny involved Fernando, our stuttering session drummer who could sing excellently with out stuttering but could string two words together in conversation. He was drinking at the flat one evening and got himself totally pissed and managed to bump the braai skottel over the balcony along with all the meat and then decided he had to puke and ran for the toilet. Little did he know there was some chick taking a pee at the time and had her skirt hiked up and panties around her ankles when Fernando burst into the toilet and unceremoniously yanked her from the throne and vomited into the toilet. She was standing there in shock and peed all over her legs, she pulled the skirt down and had kicked the panties off and ran out the flat and we never saw her again! Thanks Fernando, that was one that got away!

I have lived a wild life and now have become somewhat reserved and dull ass boring and i hate it! I need one last hurrah!

Michael B Da Silva. (old man)

EXECUTIVE OUTCOMES

2011-10-10T17:13:00.004+02:00
OUTCOMES OF THE EXECUTIVE SORT.
.September 1993 – January 1994.
127 days in the best PMC to date

After my stint in the military and my two camps which i “was called up for” nod nod wink wink i was back in civilian street and hating it. There were many hard core parties and life at “party central” , the flat i shared with my friend was all cool and stuff with much crazy shit happening and a plethora of women cruising in and out of the place on a daily basis, we were living like man sluts! All in all it wasn’t all that bad really. I had some dreary dead end bull shit job selling filing systems. Like i cared! It was just a salary toward the next piss up and a way into the next woman`s panty( not that i was wearing the panty ). We basically lived at Bella Napoli night club in Hillbrow occasionally visiting the dive around the corner called The Summit Club where chicks were GUARANTEED if you get my drift. One evening we were drinking hard at the bar in the Summit club at” Nero`s bar” and i was certain that my aftershave must have been spiked with aphrodisiac as i was literally surrounded by willing chicks on all sides. It didn’t hit me till a little later that my pal Mark and i were being set up by a Madam sitting at the bar. She had noted the thick payday wallets and despatched her ladies of leisure to set us up for robbery. We were led off by the smell of perfume like the proverbial pied piper to a block of flats in Van Der Merwe street Hillbrow. Unbeknownst to the two scarlet Ho`s was that i had collected my .45ACP 1911A1 hand cannon at the security desk on the ground floor entrance of the summit club while Mark regaled the chicks with all manner of bullshit stories. We arrived on the 8th floor and were led to their flat, we entered to find ourselves confronted by two very large buff Nigerian fellows. It is worth noting that this was before Hillbrow had totally become overrun by the Nigerian hoodlums. The one turned to us and in a heavy accent said “ you gonna give us money man or we gonna fuck you”. The reality suddenly dawned that we had been duped by these two bitches! I recoiled backwards and immediately drew my .45 ACP which no one had anticipated and fired three rounds into the concrete ceiling above me( leaving only six rounds in the weapon) but i didn’t care as i had the definite initiative now. The two bitches dived for cover behind the couch and the shocked Nigerians made a route for the bedroom. Without further ado Mark and i made a “tactical” retreat from the flat and went back to Nero`s bar to compose ourselves over six or so beers. This had been a close call and we weren’t keen on a repeat unless we were firmly in the drivers seat so to speak. It was with this type of ongoing craziness that i met a guy called Gary at our favourite watering hole in the South of Jo`burg called Torino restaurant. He sat there all cloak and dagger and listened to our near escape and piped up if we were interested in working for a company in Angola protecting oil fields? I immediately was interested and wanted to sign there and then, but Mark was more guarded and didn’t want to consider anything crazy as he was dating his future wife. I thought this to be stupid and dilly. The following day Gary phoned me and gave me an address in Randburg near Fountainbleau where i was to meet with his step dad Bryan Westwood who was in charge of signing up logistics personnel. I produced whatever credentials i had and signed a provisional contract there and then. A few days later i went to a house in Centurion and signed the contract and was informed of my Book Number, mine was 32. It was the first of September 1993 and a dude named sergeant Pelser had just made my day. We weren’t entirely sure of exactly where we would be going and the exact amount we would be earning but it was somewhere in the 2000 Dollar region and back in 1993 this was a shit load of money. We found out that we would be working for a guy named Eeben Barlow who was ex military intelligence and most notably ex CCB(civil co operation bureau) and his second in command Lafras Luithing, also ex military and CCB. I didn’t care who i worked for so long as i was paid. I was utilised for a week as a run around as i had my own car and ran errands to and from Lanseria airport and gave lifts to people, i also recruited two of my pals. One was my high school friend Deon who was ex SAP security branch and a childhood family friend Paul George who was able to communicate in Portuguese and was an ex National service signalman. Basically a radio operator, both were signed up in no time. I was booked to fly to Angola first and left about 10 days before Deon. I arrived at Lanseria airport with my old army balsak( duffel bag) and milled around the departure hall with 7 other guys not entirely sure of what to expect or where to go, we tried to simply look mean and all knowing. Our passports were stamped with exit stamps and we boarded a small king air 200 with the registration of N91TR. It was piloted by aviators associated with Crause Steyl and they became fixtures in Cabo Ledo Angola, our new home.it was a cramped 6 hour flight and we landed briefly in Rundu Namibia to refuel, i used this brief stop to quickly go and check out what became of the ops room and the rundu bar and shitingura. I was dismayed at what i found and the destruction of the base disheartened me along with the squatters living in the former ops room where i had so fantastically overdosed accidentally on 30 nivaquine anti malaria tablets. We got aboard the king air and left what was left of a once proud base called air force base Rundu. We travelled out to sea a bit and circled the runway at Cabo ledo Angola once before coming in to land. The landing was bumpy and the runway was overgrown with weeds and had holes in it. We were picked up by two dudes wearing FAA(Forces Armada Angolana) camouflage fatigues and brandishing mean ass beards. They drove us back to our part of the base which was inside the 16th regiment commando base. The first guy i saw other than these two bearded bush Santa Clause types was a buff muscle bound guy wearing a bandanna and what seemed to be tailored cammo pants jogging up the road past the fuel dump. His name was Brett Cleaver and he was known as the best dressed Merc in the world. He had apparently done stunt double work on the Dolf Lundgren film Red Scorpion filmed in South Africa so i suppose it is safe to say “nuff said”. We were taken to the barracks which were a crazy pinkish / salmon colour that had been done by the Cubans and Cabo Ledo was indeed an ex Cuban base that Mig fighters had lauched from to attack South African targets during the bush war. We were officially fighting for our old enemy and being paid handsomely to do so. We thought we were super cool and adopted the “i am meaner than shit” attitude. We were very green in this field and would shortly find out what happens to those that thought they were the bees knees. We were full of very misguided bravado and mouthed off ten to the dozen about just how cool we fancied ourselves to be. There were those that were watching and listening to our bull shit with dismay and would soon exact retribution and discipline us accordingly.
We worked daily packing fresh bottled water from one place to another in what seemed like silly PT with no real value other than pissing everyone off. Our trips to the beach were great and we ran around like tourists splashing and cavorting in the sea. It must have been around the 9th night when the Recce`s had, had enough of our collective nonsense and after many beers they formed a pack and visited our sleeping quarters. I was awoken by a stiff slap to my face right through the mosquito net and i immediately jumped up. This was taken as a belligerent action and i was told that if i raise my arms i will be “fucking killed” quote un quote. I took this advice very seriously and i stood with my arms bent up against my chest while i was given alternative punches to my face. After what seemed like ten a side the recce got pissed off and went berserk and proceeded to throttle the shit out of me banging my head repeatedly against the cupboard. I knew that if i went down they would stomp me to death so i hung in there and tried to remain as upright as possible. Eventually a guy named Wayne Ross Smith walked in brandishing a bayonet and told the two recce`s having a field day with my face that i had, had enough. They moved onto the next bungalow and tramped the shit out the next fellow and so on. On leaving the bungalow one of the recce`s named Rich Nicholl switched the light off and retorted “ have a nice evening gentlemen”, i stupidly replied “thank you”. The light came back on and terror filled my soul! He asked if i was trying to be clever and i assured him in my most calm voice that it was merely a natural response and that i was not trying to be wise. The light went out and the recce`s moved on. I sat on the edge of the bed a leaned forward spitting blood a pieces of teeth. The mosquito`s were going ape shit and it was pointless to try and wave them off, these were persistent mozzies that seemed to form a squadron and dive down at me in waves, it was almost like pearl harbour! If you listened closely you could almost hear the high pitched voices shouting “Tora Tora Tora”. I eventually accepted that i was most likely going to get killed that evening and i lied down to await the inevitable. The recce`s ran around the bungalows stomping their feet and some were throwing what i surmise were detonators that made loud bangs, there were some dudes who could not take this and were openly crying loudly and one guy calling for his mother( and no it was not me) . The recce`s eventually went off and left us alone and in the morning there was a very tense air hanging over the camp. One of the officers that had also received a slap or two had possibly relayed the events back to Pretoria and it wasn’t long before Lafras Luithing who had been in Luanda some 90 odd clicks north was on base to assess the situation. We were all interviewed and the list of those resigning was long. I told them i did not want to resign but i was in excruciating pain and my jaw was fractured. It was decided to fly us all back to Pretoria and take things from there. Lafras drove me to Johannesburg and dropped me off at my dad`s restaurant, my dad was over the moon to meet Lafras and didn’t seem too perturbed that my nose was three times its original size and smeared across the side of my face. Lafras instructed me to meet at the office in Centurion the next day where i would be taken to a dentist and fix a couple of my busted teeth. I knew i was working for the right company and fully trusted those i was employed by. The following day i drove around with Lafras to Midrand and waited while he had a meeting with someone at a house just off the main road, this was all very cool and cloak and dagger. I frequented my favourite watering hole in the evenings and met up with a friend of mine Paul George De Sousa he was signed up as translator and radio man for the company and i spoke to a guy who would also join as a sapper, his name was Loedie Voges. So i now had at least three pals in the deal with me and this was cool in that we had a gang of sorts, my school buddy and ex SAP security branch cop Deon Partridge made up the gang . i returned to Cabo Ledo 7 days after being flown down and on arrival i was greeted by both Rich Nicholl and Simon Witherspoon whose fists i had stopped with my face, they both greeted me and said that i had at least had the balls to return as quite a few of the guys had run like bitches and resigned including Gary the logistics officer named Bryan Westwood`s step son. Bryan was furious at his step son`s sissy boy approach and openly chastised him in conversation. It was Bryan`s stepson i had originally met in the bar and took me off to Bryan`s house in Randburg to apply for the position within Executive Outcomes.
We were issued weapons and life carried on quite nicely without too much drama as we now had our jobs to do and left the chest heaving to those that were duly qualified to do so. The whole beating debacle had come about as a lesson to us to show exactly where everyone fitted into the pecking order and was indeed a necessity. I accept that my bravado and big mouth had gotten my person beaten up and i deserved it. We had to know where we stand and understand the parameters and severity , gravity of the situation we were in as this wasn’t a holiday camp. It was deadly serious work and we were expected to do a job and maintain our professionalism. It wasn’t long before i was transferred to Rio Longa base about 80 or so clicks from Cabo Ledo to clear an area to serve as a heli pad but that never came to fruition as the ground was deemed to uneven and the brush too dense, so we were tasked at digging long drop toilets which i soon became a professional at. There were rumours of mine fields and that in the wet months they basically become “migratory” as the mines shift along with the wet loose soil, how true this is i cannot confirm but i can confirm that there were literally dozens of AP`s (anti personnel mines) lying in the shallow waters on the banks of the river at the bridge. Our arrival at Longa was akin to arriving in a jungle base in “Nam” and it was well, cool as hell. What we noted first was an Angolan soldier being disciplined by the FAA (forces armada angolana) for what we were told was deserting, this sod was strung up by his feet and dangled over the river from the low vehicle bridge, his hands just touching the water. He was obviously told that the crocodiles were going to snack on him and he screamed non stop, this would not have happened as there were literally thousands of FAA troops utilising the river as a big washing and ablution area. This shocked us and equally amused us a bit but it had nothing to do with us so we minded our own business. The long drop toilets were a necessity as there were obviously no facilities in place and we went about this task with much seriousness.( we had a little ditty we sang when walking off to dig the shit holes and went a little like this” hi ho hi ho its off to work we go, with a pick and a spade and a hand grenade, hi ho hi ho”) . One idiot that had just arrived went and took a dump in the unfinished hole while we went to lunch, we were fucking furious and demanded he climb back into the hole and remove his turd immediately ! we were still digging the hole to the at least 5 to 6 foot depth and did not appreciate this big log lying there in all its splendour in the hole we still had to work in. We had dug 4 of these crappers and were adorned with what is known as a “go kart” which is an upturned empty wood weapons case ( the big box that our AK47`s and RPG7`s (rocket propelled grenades) came in. We would cut a neat hole in the top and place the go kart over the hole, sandbag the rim all round and hey presto , a shit house ala king. Every so often we would pour a bit of fuel into the hole and set light to it to “disinfect the contents and kill the stench a bit, one evening i was perched atop the bush throne which we had “built” on the top of a small hill to allow for the stink to bypass the encampment, i was busy turning my daily coil when some FAA soldier got creative with his AK47 and was shooting into the darkness. I could see muzzle flashes over the hill at the FAA camp but i don’t know where this clot was firing all i know is that i immediately cut my loaf off and grabbed my AK47 and was aiming in the general direction of the firing coming from the FAA camp, i had visions of being slotted while sitting on the crapper so i hastened my visit and retreated to the relative safety of tent town. Needless to say i never used that go kart in the evening again! At lunch one day a new arrival who said he was an ex parabat was mouthing off at how mean he was and that the bats were a far superior group to the recce`s and 32 batallion and that he was basically Rambo`s cousin. We knew what was coming and sat there and waited for the inevitable. One of the recce`s strolled over to him and whacked him a shot that put him into lala land, it is noteworthy mentioning that this tool had arrived the day before and was on the plane back home the following day, Some warrior! During the hottest part of the day we would take a siesta to get out of the sapping sun and usually we would conduct basic maintenance on our weapons, on my return after my arse kicking episode i had brought along a comprehensive gun cleaning kit and so i always had a clean weapon. There were four of us billeted in the Chinese army tents and we had steel cupboards between the beds which contained our odds and ends. A new arrival that was ex navy marines (this was not a unit that worked out so good for the South African navy) was regaling us with all his weapons knowledge and Uber coolness forgot to remove the magazine from the AK47 before cycling the weapon in order to remove the dust cover plate and then remove the working parts and rotating bolt. For some unknown reason while he was babbling on, he cocked the AK47 then removed the magazine and squeezed the trigger. The round discharged and the bullet went through the cupboard hitting a can of deodorant and exited the tent between myself and the guy to my right ( i am convinced it was my pal Paul George) . A dust cloud was kicked up and all i could say was” it wasn’t me, my weapon is field stripped”, a nervous laughter broke out but came to an abrupt stop when Blue Kelly a very crazy Aussie sergeant major stormed into the tent and bellowed “ who the fuck did that?!” the culprit immediately fessed up and apologised for his stupidity. Blue retorted in his very own subtle way “ if you ever do that again i will fucking kill you myself!!!” , needless to say we believed him. The navy marine had lost all his credibility with us and we were pleased at his decision to seek another tent to call home. Daily we would all trek up to the training field and observe the FAA receiving training from the recce`s and other instructors, these poor FAA dudes did not know what had hit them and the fact that they were so badly fed by their own commanders didn’t help the situation either. Some were so weak that they could barely run 100 metres without collapsing from exhaustion, needless to say this sad state of affairs was corrected after intervention by the company and decent soldiers were being turned out for service by the EO staff. The Brigadier attached to the FAA was a brutal bastard and i and a lot of the others had no time for this repugnant pig of a man. His approach to discipline was cruel, swift and final. I truly hope this man has met an untidy , miserable and painful end! He was not a good man and i will leave it at that, i amongst others including some of the instructors witnessed his brand of discipline one day on the training field and it was uncouth to put it mildly. Brigadier Viliarano was a pig!!

After a month i was transferred back to Cabo Ledo to carry on doing my job which was as part of the air wing, i was a refueler and marshaller , i also maintained basic flight line safety and conducted very basic runway maintenance. We did not have oodles of material to utilise in repairing holes etc in the runway so we used what ever we could find to fill holes that were considered high priority. My other duties included basic weapons maintenance in the weapons store ( i would clean the weapons of those going on leave), some of the guys had zero respect for the maintenance of their weapons and because of my keenness to maintain my weapon i was duly drafted into cleaning and logging all the rifles. I also stood beat at the boom that was the entrance to our little part of the base within the FAA base which had been a Cuban base previously. This duty started shortly after Rieme De Jager the RSM`s dog Leo was shot by a FAA soldier standing beat at the boom. Riema fas furious and equally heart broken. Leo was no ordinary dog and was part of the company like everyone else. Every morning i was tasked with the important job of dumping our garbage, this i did in the field at the bottom of the base outside the fence line. We were told by a FAA sergeant not to go too far into the field as the Cubans had apparently mined the perimeter of the base years before. We gingerly reversed the Chevy Cheyenne pick up truck into the field and got the local labourer to empty the dustbins over the side of the vehicle. We started to call these garbage runs ‘breakfast at Tiffany`s” as the FAA would always pitch up in numbers to scratch through the rubbish for anything edible. My 24th birthday was coming up soon on the 12th of November and i had secured myself leave time, i boarded the King Air N91TR and was off home for my birthday, i was stoked to be joining my friends for a piss up of note. Deon had already flown down and Paul George was to follow a day after me, our rendezvous would be at a small pizza place called Biella, the bonus part was that Bryan Westwood would also be there as he too was home on pass. After being airborne for about 4 hours the pilots received a call that there had been an accident on the Longa training field and that there were casualties, we were unfortunately too far to turn back and would not have had the fuel to make it back to Cabo Ledo, so we were flown the remainder of the trip which was about two more hours to Lanseria air port. There was no one from passport control to stamp our passports back into the country and we were told by some lesser official type to come back the next day. The air craft refuelled and left same day to collect the injured staff members. We were taken to the house/ office in Centurion and asked to be on “call” the following day when the injured would return. Naturally this would not be a problem and we then went home. I had flown down on the 10th of November which was a Wednesday and it was on Wednesday in Longa that an accident that should never had happened took place. The guys were sussing out the Russian and Chinese fabricated hand grenades and more importantly try and decipher the Chinese/ Cyrillic writing on the detonators so as to know the delays on the fuses. A grenade from what i can gather was tied to a small tree and a line run to the pin, this was to allow the pin to be pulled from a safe distance. Apparently the pin did pull out but the spoon didn’t properly release from the grenade. When it did the guys were dangerously close and to add to the situation the detonator was a “zero det” commonly used in booby traps. The closest person to the blast was Wayne Ross Smith and he had turned away slightly and was hit by the shrapnel in his back and the back of the head. A few others also suffered shrapnel injuries. My friend Paul George flew down in the plane with a critically injured Wayne and others including the doctor. Unfortunately Wayne died shortly before the plane landed at Lanseria airport and judging by the state of the interior of the plane it must have been a difficult six hours for Paul George, he seemed to have changed somewhat. I drove Paul George home and met up with Deon where we discussed this tragedy, we were all friendly with Wayne and his death was a tragic affair. Wayne was a good guy and well liked and respected by all within EO. My birthday went off as planned as was attended by Bryan Westwood and my two comrades. It was a nice enough time but spoiled by the unfortunate turn of events. I had visited three other friends of mine and asked them if they wanted to join EO as they had military background with mortars and served in 61 Mech and the other was ex police. I was dismayed at their uniform answers that they could not due to their girlfriends. What a bull shit, lame arse excuse! I was disgusted by their seemingly sissy attitudes and have never really maintained contact with them. My flat mate Mark had just gotten married and i sort of understood his reluctance to go to Angola, but i was still a tad disappointed by his negativity and his words “ i am not going to go to Angola to get myself killed”. ( It turned out that a few years later he would get himself shot twice in a drive by shooting after pissing someone off, his wife was eight months pregnant with their first child. )

A couple days later we returned to Cabo Ledo and carried on with our jobs. There were the negative noddy squad that resigned from EO in the wake of the accident that claimed Wayne Ross Smith and complained that there wasn’t enough space in the plane to evacuate the guys quickly enough if anything happened or we were attacked. Apparently these idiots were not aware that they were working in a country at war. Around this time there was a lot of rumour circulating about us being arrested for being mercenaries on our return to the Republic and that there was imminent war brewing within South Africa due to the elections that were supposedly going to spark all out civil war. I commiserated about this possibility at length and was fraught with worries that the ANC were going to go on an all out wholesale killing spree. With this in my mind i went into December 1993 with doubts and trepidation. Eo proved to us once again that the welfare of the men in their employ was of great importance and number 1 priority by supplying us with what seems a small gesture but made us really feel like we were appreciated. The company had flown us a whole pile of “Xmas care packages” that contained all sorts of nice goodies, we dined like kings. There were a lot of guys that had gone home on leave so we had way too many Xmas parcels and these were donated to the FAA dudes in the vehicle section, little did we know that this would lead to all kinds of bother. Apparently one of the FAA soldiers had grabbed two parcels and would not share them with one of the FAA instructors who when he woke up from siesta demanded he receive one. An argument ensued and the instructor shot the FAA soldier in the stomach with his AK47 and sauntered off firing as he went. This Xmas parcel had obviously meant a lot to him? He walked out the vehicle park and marched towards our part of the base down the straight tarred road. Soldiers poured out the FAA vehicle park and were taking pot shots at the FAA instructor who was wearing a bright red T shirt. What is amazing is that he was only hit in the leg after about 20 or so shots had been fired in his direction, he would calmly turn and squeeze off shots in retaliation every few steps. The instructor fell in audible pain after the bullet hit him in the calf and exited the shin. It was a bad wound by any account and he yelled in pain. By now i was standing at the medics to get a Voltaren injection for pain in my lower back i had sustained after being pulled off the wing of N123PW also a king air flown by Crause Steyl and his merry men, i had been refuelling the plane and was seated on the wing with the hose resting over my leg to protect the wing when the guy that started the fuel truck to allow the pump to supply fuel hopped the truck forward a few feet and i was unceremoniously yanked from the wing and landed flat on my arse. Anyways back to the FAA instructor and the Xmas day parcel debacle, i immediately grabbed the nearest weapon which belonged to a guy suffering from cerebral malaria and was hallucinating about a big bear attacking him, i suspect he had been given some seriously strong sedatives. Paul George piled out the bungalow carrying my RPK ( i had since swapped my AK47 for the RPK with one of the recce`s who wanted a lighter weapon on the training field, Paul George went to ground and was lying prone, i was in a kneeling position and rounds that the soldiers were firing at the instructor were hitting inside our base in the dirt close by, we were not sure what the hell was going on and we thought we were being attacked by surprise using Christmas day as an advantage to sneak an attack. Pine Pienaar came out the ops room and told us to hold our fire as this was not our fight. He (the FAA instructor)started crawling up to our boom gate when a Chevy Cheyenne with a Caucasian Portuguese FAA Colonel pulled up and he casually strolled up to the instructor, drew his pistol and shot him! What i found amazing was that the guy that was wounded by the instructor was being pushed down the road from the FAA vehicle park in a wheelbarrow! There were at least 50 Chevy Cheyenne`s in this vehicle park and the Colonel had just rolled up in one and despatched the instructor then loaded his body on the back of the pick up and disappeared. The wounded fellow was being rushed to the medics in a wheelbarrow. This was bizarre to say the least. We returned to daily life and went to the bar that evening and discussed this funny event at length, pushing a dude to the medics in a wheelbarrow! The next day we went to the medics side of the FAA base where we had a refrigerated container that had unfortunately run out of diesel a few days earlier and December in Angola can be quite hot. I was standing on the back of the Chevy and as soon as the one guy tried to open the doors of the container the FAA soldiers milling around the medics started to throng towards the container and were dead keen on looting its contents, i fired a few rounds off into the air to keep the walking wounded at bay but this was not necessary because as soon as the doors swung open the stench of rotting meat and fish hit us like a sucker punch. I recoiled and puked. The FAA troops even moved off in a hurry. The door was closed and i never went back there. The smell that emanated from some of the injured FAA soldiers also made people ill, they were walking dead and just had not realised they were supposed to fall down. One particular guy had a dirty stiff bloodied browning bandage wrapped around his stump that was amputated just below the knee and man did this guy stink. I would voluntarily have rather sniffed a skunks arse than the foul rotting stink that emanated from this poor guys had been leg. Till today i have a serious problem with foul odours and the gag reflex kicks in when i smell anything similar. The smell was so strong you could almost taste it.
The 31st of December rolled around and we were all relaxing and catching up on much beer consumption in the bar area and generally shooting the breeze about any old thing. It wasn’t till one guy decided to stir the shit pot by saying that 32 battalion were superior to the recce`s and parabats combined. This started to rub the recce`s the wrong way and it was not long before someone got a snot klap (bitch slap) and it all went seriously pear shaped from there. Some weapons were cocked and us support guys evaporated back to our barracks. Shit thing is that i slept right by the frikkin door! I lay there that night with my RPK next to me in bed while we waited fro the shooting to start. The guys were very aggressive and none of us wanted a repeat of the hidings from September, only this time we were all armed both with weapons and booze. It did after a few hours wind down and the guys went to bed. We sighed a collective sigh of relief . I had by now already made my decision to resign and go back to the Republic so that i could assist my country when the war broke out. Naturally this did not come to fruition and the only trouble we had was between the IFP( inkhata freedom party) and the ANC( African national congress) outside the ANC head quarters. I at that time was working with a guy who owned a security company and he contracted me to assist him. We were in town at one of our “biggest” clients protecting the business which was a block away. That was a hoot and the excitement was palpable during the 1994 elections i was contracted by an Italian concern to protect Italian journalists covering the elections for RAI tv. Deon and I escorted these very naive journalists to the bomb blasts at the then Johannesburg international air port and it just so happens that Eeben Barlow had just arrived at the air port, we did not know this and i only recently became aware of this after reading his book. It is funny how coincidences work.

I duly wrote out my resignation letter and handed it to the personnel officer in Cabo Ledo who in turn sent it on to Thys Pelser in Centurion. I further more requested a letter stating i had resigned and indeed served with Executive Outcomes. I received this letter on my last day in the employ of Executive Outcomes which was the fourth of January 1994, i spent a total of 127 days working for the company which was the most life altering experience in my life. I started very young and green and left a much wiser individual. I have the utmost respect for Eeben Barlow the founder of EO and Lafras Luithing the second in command. I was sorry that i had left and tried to reapply in 1995 but i was not able to slot in anywhere, i still have the letter sent to me after applying to rejoin the company. I was saddened by my stupidity of leaving in the first place.
Executive Outcomes had a very positive impact in my life and even after my beating in the beginning i admit openly that i was acting like a horses arse and deserved to be issued corrective slaps, this was of vital importance to ensure i know exactly where i stood within the framework of the company and that cowboys will be a liability to those in the unit. The recce`s were the real deal and we were support and we had our job which was vitally important to the company as a whole even though we weren’t special forces and operators. Planes need refuelling, weapons need cleaning, garbage needs to be cleaned out, convoys need protecting, beer needs to be unloaded etc. I am very proud to have been a small cog in a big machine and we did our jobs well. Eeben Barlow wrote an excellent book titled Executive Outcomes against all odds and it tells in depth the job the company had and the successes it had in ending 30 years of civil war in Angola and later also turning the tide in Sierra Leone. His book also goes into detail describing his career in the military and then in the employ of the CCB( civil cooperation bureau) and is a must read. Eeben also has a blog site that he keeps updated with interesting articles . http://eebenbarlowsmilitaryandsecurityblog.blogspot.com/

Once again i thank Eeben Barlow for the opportunity to have worked for his dynamic company which was to become the first real PMC (private military company) and the bench mark that those that sprung up have tried to emulate. What made EO unique was the emphasis on the well being of its staff and the professionalism of the operation as a whole.

I later met up with Rieme De Jager who was our RSM (regimental sergeant major) in Cabo Ledo in Randburg and had signed on to go off to Angola on separate contract in the diamond region, where i was to be a supposed “tractor mechanic” although i had zero clue about mechanics and my visa was duly authorised and entered into my passport but at the last moment the whole project seemed to go haywire and we never went. I was very upset by this turn of events and went on with my newly found lucrative career in the private security field.

Michael B Da Silva (book number 32)

BIRD ON A WIRE & THE CANNABIS CULTIVATION COPS

2011-10-08T13:45:00.003+02:00
BIRD ON A WIRE & THE CANNABIS CULTIVATION COPS
Air force camps to air force Pietersburg (1991) & air force station Nelspruit (1992)
On completion of my National service i wandered off into civilian street in search of gainful employment and to face the big bad world head on. It was a daunting prospect and i was not convinced of this whole civvie street business. I scoured the papers and left my basically blank c.v at all the personnel agencies. I was busy, busy , busy doing nothing. I eventually found a good work for really good people and what turned out to be the best boss i had and have ever worked for. He owned a Portuguese restaurant in the south of Johannesburg and his daughter had been working there since birth it seems, she is still there today! It was honest work and i worked long hours and made good money. I entertained myself by sabotaging the idiot manager who apparently “worked” there. He was a total waste of skin. I would on a regular basis put tooth picks inside his steak and rub a thin layer of tobasco sauce around the rim of his glass of wine he had stashed around the restaurant that he would sip from every so often. I once threw the contents of an ice bucket over the toilet stall door. He was groaning and grunting like a pig while cutting his daily loaf and i just couldn’t resist.
The work although financially viable did get mind numbing and i desperately harked for the military life, so one fine day i subversively made a phone call to Waterkloof ops room and requested they consider me for a camp. A month back in uniform sounded like the medicine i needed. My only requirement was that they don’t call me up for duty in Pretoria! The military duly sent my call up request and i was advised to be at air force base Zwartkops where i would be flown to air force base Pietersburg and report to base ops. I was delighted to say the least as i would still receive my civilian salary for the month i was away and i would get army pay. It wasn’t much but the army pay would be sufficient to pay for my month long drinking binge. I duly stocked up on essential kit that i would need to take along on my “deployment”. I had two bottles of Jack Daniel`s in my balsak (duffle bag) and a case of beers packed loose amongst my clothes as emergency stock. Life at Pietersburg was run of the mill at first while i sussed the guys out i was working with. I was tasked as the designated driver and was issued a Toyota hi-ace mini bus that i would drive the guys to and from the ops room, this also allowed me the use of the military vehicle for other “recces” around town. I would take myself and some of the others out to town where we would pub crawl and frequent the clubs till the early hours. One day a new permanent force member fresh from basics and course arrived and i know he definitely rued the day we made acquaintance.
For reasons of fuzzy memory i will call the “newbie” permanent force recruit “Johan” as i cannot remember his name and besides i am sure that he would appreciate the anonymity. One evening after lodging serious complaints in the mess hall comments book about the seriously lacking wholesomeness of the fare on offer and likening it to the slop served up at establishments such as Auschwitz and calling this grey goop death camp cuisine, i ambled over to the hi ace mini bus and headed off to the accommodation block to round up some guys who felt like going out for something decent. I had Kentucky Fried Chicken in mind. I would load the vehicle with people so as to not raise suspicions at the gate as to why i was utilising the vehicle alone. Being a camper i did not require the silly gate passes and other paperwork and those with me in the mini bus were thus also immune from requiring paperwork as we were obviously working. I suppose the guards at the gate must have thought we had “official” business outside the base even at 20h00. On my arrival at the accommodation block i got initially sidelined by some of the dudes watching a video of the recently released film titled “Bird on a wire” with Mel Gibson and one particular scene grabbed my attention . Mel and Goldie Hawn were escaping from some villainous types in a BMW 3 series E30 cabriolet by driving on the train tracks, this must have somehow resonated with me in my subconscious, this is easy especially after a dozen beers and a couple shots of Jack Daniel`s . Anyways, back to the story at hand. I went around and tried to recruit some followers to join me in my quest for decent chow and head off into Pietersburg town, however money was low tide for most the guys except for Johan our fresh faced clueless farm boy. He was still busy unpacking all his stuff and had missed dinner time so he was keen to go out to the KFC and get a chow. We sped off in the mini bus and made our way through the streets towards town. As i approached an unguarded level crossing the imprinted memories of the movie from earlier kicked in and i hung an immediate left turn onto the tracks. The wheels fit inside the tracks and we trundled head on for about a kilometre before it occurred to me that this is an active train line! I started looking for somewhere to try and negotiate a U turn, Johan was by now completely frantic and babbling incoherently amidst screams of pure terror imagining a train killing us. I eventually sussed out a spot that i perceived was a “level-ish” piece of ground on either side of the tracks and i started to turn the steering wheel and hopping the mini bus forward to mount the track. We were inside the tracks and it sort of guided us, it was near impossible to get over the slippery train track but after much effort and wheel spin i got the front left tyre over the track and i floored the mini bus only for it to nose dive straight down resting on the front bumper with the tail gate end up in the air along with the rear wheels. The rear wheels were no longer on terra firma and panic set in. I had not seen that the “level” ground was just long grass and that the train track was in fact on an elevated “hump”. Johan and I scrambled from the vehicle and conducted a quick assessment of the situation, we came to the conclusion that we were in the shit! The headlights were shining directly into the dirt and the tail lights looked like landing beacons glowing red way up there in the air. I did the responsible thing and duly turned the hazard lights on, after all safety first!

Here is where the story goes tits up! We rocked the mini bus and Johan hung from the back to try and get the wheels to come into contact with the ground where i would floor the accelerator and hopefully attain traction to drive the bus out. That was the theory anyways but it was not working so well as the chassis was resting on the slope of the hump. We noticed that there was a piece of old exhaust pipe attached to an old silencer box ( it had obviously been replaced and the old piece put in the back as proof i surmise). There was also a flat tyre still on the spare rim so we had tools to work with. I amended our plan and told Johan to put the flat tyre under the mini bus and when i gun the accelerator he must jam the silencer box into the gap thereby giving me sufficient traction to hop the mini bus free of its quandary. In my mind this was simplistic and was sure to work easily however what followed next was not in my original plans. I gunned the throttle and Johan jammed the silencer box into the gap where the spinning wheel was whizzing around at top speed. I then heard an almighty thud and in the left side view mirror saw a flash of something airborne. I jumped out the driver side and ran around the back of the mini bus to see Johan lying there writhing in agony and blood gushing from a huge gash in his obviously busted nose, the silencer box had flown out at near supersonic speeds and smacked him right in face. I started to discombobulate a tad and ran around the front of the mini bus to do i don’t know what and i slipped on the grass and fell into a small barbed wire fence that ran along the side of the train tracks, something i had not noticed earlier . i was cut by the barbed wire and had cuts all over my hands and forearms as i tried to cushion my fall. Now we were both casualties. Once i had composed myself and calmed down to a bitch panic i went back to Johan who was babbling and spitting blood, i am sure he was annoyed by me, i cannot be sure but i had a niggling suspicion that he may blame me. I helped him to his feet and we set off on foot for the hospital for medical attention. I was wearing my browns and Johan was still in his full blues uniform. We must have been a sight to behold! On arrival at the hospital we were tended to by a two pip lieutenant doctor who turned out to be a camper doing his last camp for the military. His first words were “ what kak did you two get up to?” i gave him a brief SITREP (situation report) and informed him of my status as a camper which immediately changed the dynamic of the whole affair. The doc was all too happy to assist a fellow camper out the shit, so after dressing the wounds on my arms and hands and sorting out some “augmentation” for Johan`s nose he took us off in his old land rover series 2 or 3 to help us recover our stricken vehicle. We got to the edge of a large veld and i pointed out to the blinking lights in the distance. He turned to me and reported that i had not mentioned that i had taken a long drive down the train tracks, he was under the impression i had maybe strayed a few metres onto the tracks due to my “night blindness” as i had said. All i could say was “watch the movie bird on a wire” and left it at that. Johan climbed up onto the bonnet of the landy and sat in the spare wheel which on these land rovers is on the bonnet. Johan`s job was to act as a message relay station while i walked ahead and was to warn of obstacles and holes, the lieutenant slowly drove through the veld, the last thing we wanted was another stricken vehicle. After much effort and sweating we managed to drag the minibus free and towed it out to the road where we thanked the doctor and headed for base. This ordeal had begun at around 19h00 and it was now around 02h00.
We returned to the barracks and cleaned up, got a few Z`s and readied ourselves for the upcoming uitkak parade. We got our story correlated and decided to spin the following set of events as fact. We told the Commandant that i had gone out drinking and got pissed and while negotiating the staircase at the barracks i fell against the walls which are rough ripple plastered and therefore caused the cuts and scratches on my hands and arms. The Commandant seemed to believe this set of events and found my story plausible. Johan`s story however he found suspect to say the least and did not believe for a second that Johan had been busy making his bed and tripped over the blanket falling and smashing his nose open on the steel frame. The Commandant believed we must have had a fight with each other or with other parties and that the bed making story was simply too far fetched to believe. We stuck to our story and did not waiver and we were suddenly brought back to reality when all hell broke lose out on the runway. The ATC (air traffic control) were in contact with an inbound Impala mk2 and if memory serves right were instructing the pilot to conduct an overshoot and abort landing, however something went pear shaped and the Impala mk2 crashed on the runway killing the pilot who had not had the time to eject. We all jumped into first gear and despatched emergency services, got a helo on standby and did all the necessary paperwork and signals. It was however too late for the pilot as he was killed outright. The Impala mk2 `s serial number was 1008 attached to 85cfs. It was February 22nd 1991. Chaos ensued as everyone was surmising and spreading rumours of the Impala maybe being victim to an rpg7 or brought down by ANC gunmen etc. The truth is that it all was attributed to pilot error on landing. The Commandant congratulated the ops team for our professional conduct and following our SOP`s (standard operating procedures) to a T. I used this interlude to bring to the Commandants attention the horrid state of the mini bus taxi and its un roadworthiness and that i was not keen on putting the guys lives at risk in this shoddy bucket of bolts! Without further ado he sent me off to the “MT” (motor technical i think it is) section to get an appraisal on the mini bus and was phoned by a very concerned mechanic that could not understand why the chassis was so damaged and there was grass stuck inside the gearbox and the engine block had a hole in it and was pissing oil. The Commandant crapped all over the mechanic as if it were his fault and demanded a replacement vehicle for the ops room immediately. Later i drove the guys back to barracks in a brand spanking new hi ace mini bus. We had gotten away with writing off a military vehicle! The moral of this story is simple. DO NOT ATTEMPT ANYTHING YOU SEE IN THE MOVIES! On leaving Pietersburg , the sergeant asked me what had happened to Johan , me and the Hi Ace mini bus. I told him to ask Johan once i had flown back to Zwartkops and was a civilian again. He laughed and said that he knew there was more to the saga.

My next camp was the following year in march of 1992, i had once again volunteered for the camp so as to go on a paid holiday . i stocked my balsak (duffle bag ) with travelling essentials such as Jack Daniel`s and emergency beer. It was off to the train station and i boarded the train along with 4 other campers off to Nelspruit which did not have a dedicated air force base but only what is called an air force station. The journey on the train was a wild drinking session which culminated in me “train surfing” , i have pictures where i am hanging out the door and one where i was hanging out the window. I knocked on the compartment window ahead of our and asked a very traumatised old couple for the time. We were moving at speed and it was night time, the expressions of horror on the old timers faces were priceless. I was attached to the intelligence division and utilised as a dagga spotter ( we were actively engaged in finding weed plantations) along with SANAB (South African Narcotics and Alcohol Bureau) these were cops that dealt with drug issues and booze etcetera. We were flown from a sports field just outside of Nelspruit town and deposited at a tiny aerodrome just outside Malelane. This was to be our home away from home away from home. We would overnight two nights and then head back to Nelspruit air force station to complete SITREPS and catch up on filing of flight plans and hours the pilots had flown. During our time back in Nelspruit we stayed in the army side of the base and shared quarters with army campers. I had befriended a dude that lived in Evander and he had a banged up brown Daihatsu charade which he would drive at the limit into town to assault the bars. The most happening spot in town was the Mike`s Kitchen and one evening i was sitting in a “lotus type” position on the bonnet ( why you ask? Hell i don’t know, it just seemed like a good idea at the time) we pulled up outside the front door and i slid slowly down and off the bonnet and then at a fast pace walked right in and sat at the bar, ordering a beer without pause. The locals were amazed at this entrance. I was officially the maddest dude in Nelspruit! My pal and i regaled the waitress and her friend with mindless bullshit and set the tone for the evening. We were going to snag these two broads most definitely. By the end of the waitress`s shift we were “low flying” and horny as all hell so we needed to get the lovelies into the mood, this we did by going to the city hall and taking a swim in the fountains. All this rebel without a clue stuff impressed these small town chicks no end and off we went to their place where we naturally got “jiggy wit` it”. The fornication persisted long into the wee hours.

On return to Malelane we were taken out by Oryx helicopter to an area between malelane and Mahlati kop to spot and correlate with SANAB any dagga plantations. We struck pay dirt early and found an enormous plantation that would have made Bob Marley proud. The area was filmed using a simple hand held video camera and the tape given to SANAB. A few days later we were called up in a hurry to investigate an over border incident that had been reported by an infantry platoon along the “sissa” line on the South African / Mozambican border. Apparently a gunship had flown into South African airspace in the Kruger National park and fired rockets and heavy machine gun at people crossing into the Republic. We were flown out along with army intelligence personnel to conduct an investigation on the ground and i was once again utilised as the designated camera man. Trees were pocked marked with shrapnel and large holes. There were casings and linkages strewn all over the place. It was all very cloak and dagger as we gathered evidence and filmed everything. This was turning out to be a cool camp. Between hanging out the door of an Oryx helicopter looking for dagga plantations to “hush hush” intelligence work was cool. SANAB (the cannabis cultivation cops) had made a huge find and burnt tons worth of dagga, the smoke cloud was evident for miles around and junkies were lamenting this horrid unfairness. The highest ranking air force officer was invited to join the SANAB crowd at a celebratory braai in thanks for the air force`s help. I was asked to be the designated VIP driver for the Brigadier as i was a camper and therefore more responsible. I was on my best behaviour as we drove to the SANAB camp. On arrival it was evident that the SANAB cops had definitely been inhaling when they burned the dagga, they were all goofed and pissed as coots. Gun play was actively being practised and the Brigadier instructed me to not come across as ungrateful in any way and accept whatever the cops offered. Low and behold the Brig was right. It wasn’t long before i was plied with “polisie koffie” ( quadruple brandy and a dribble of coke) and i got pissed beyond repair, even the Brig was ticking and when it came to leave. I ended up being driven back to Nelspruit by the Brig! The following day we were to report to the ops room for an important briefing pertaining to the future of the Republic. We were instructed by the Brig that with the upcoming referendum on the 17th of march we are expected to vote “YES” to keep in line with the new dispensation and with De Klerk`s vision for South Africa. So much for politics and voting being a personal choice! We were effectively ordered to vote “yes”. Naturally i shook my head in agreement and then went a made my X in the “NO” column. I did not support De K lerk`s vision for the future but i decided to quietly do what i felt to be right but loudly voiced my agreement for these idiots to simply keep the peace. I voted at a sports ground in Nelspruit wearing civilian clothes so as to not be looked at by the CP (conservative party) as being a menacing government operative there to coerce people to vote for the NP(national party).

My camps were a jol and i miss them, so that is why i am considering joining the reserves at air force base Ysterplaat (iron plate) here in the Western Cape. It will be great to be in uniform once again. However before that i will relay the story of a chance encounter in a bar that led me to Angola and in the employ of a company whose “Outcomes” were advertised as “Executive”. It was a journey that led me to a greater understanding of military matters and a darn fine salary to boot. That would however be next year in September 1993.
Many thanks to Gloria at Restaurant Parreirinha for being so understanding when i was “called up” not once but twice in successive years by “surprise” to serve my country! Yeah right!

Michael B Da Silva.

KALAHARI SHAKE SHAKE & THE PEACE PIPE

2011-10-04T20:47:00.000+02:00
KALAHARI ROCK AND THE PEACE PIPE

TALES FROM UPINGTON AND SODWANA BAY 1989/90

The military was a gas. I enjoyed the entire event from start to completion in 1990. Along the way I learned a lot about discipline and camaraderie and of how to do what is known as the “fuck around”. It was every National Serviceman`s duty to perfect this art form like it is every POW`s (prisoner of wars) duty to start planning their escape if captured. I duly excelled in this particular “art of war.” I got up to mischief of the near legendary sort. I was indeed a “legend in my own lunch time”.

My border duty had wound down and the mundane monotony of life at air force base Waterkloof base ops after the 7th of may 1989`s “little” incident was mind numbing. I therefore jumped at the request for a volunteer to go with 12 squadron (the Canberra bombers) to Upington on operation Golden Eagle 2. I was to be their dedicated squadron operations clerk and handle all their flight plans and correlate all radio chatter between the pilots and ground crews. I was super stoked and boarded the 28 squadron C 130 Hercules for the deployment to Upington. We arrived in late October and it was sweltering! The heat was restrictive and the duty of setting up tents was murder. The days passed by and the beer was a welcome respite for desert parched throats. We imbibed the beer with much gusto. It was official, UPINGTON WAS A KAK PLACE!!. Even trips to town in the evenings was dreadful. The local bar in town had a bar lady that should have worked as the bearded lady in the freak show circus and everyone sported a moustache, bar lady included. Granted it wasn’t as thick and obtuse as those of the local men but it was nevertheless impressive for a woman! The 12th of November was upon us and it was my 20th birthday, it also just so happened that there was a huge “sokkiejol”( South African equivalent of the famed American “ho down” or jamboree) at the local co operative grounds where sheep et al are auctioned off. The army dudes were there in force from the local infantry base all kitted out in their step out uniforms and browns with “putties” (ridiculous white plastic things worn around the top of the boot). The air force contingency was there in civvies and in varying degrees of drunkenness. Being my birthday it is redundant to mention that I was well on my way. Sobriety had long since been dispensed with. The local females that turned out were dressed in their Sunday best, hats, corsages and all. Apparently these sokkie jols are a big deal in Upington. We invaded the hall and immediately laid siege to the bar area, sussing out the female talent in the “area of operations”. The music was pumping from the mobile deejay on duty, i cannot remember ever hearing Kylie Minogue`s the locomotion played so many times back to back and witnessing desert windsurfing practised with so much seriousness. It is truly a bizarre thing to behold. Watching people dancing as if during Baroque times but to the locomotion. This type of dancing persisted throughout the evening. It was horrible!

We were getting tired of this Kylie Minogue torture and a pal of mine approached the deejay and requested he play a song by the band U2, the song he requested was “where the streets have no name”, quite fitting for Upington! It was my favourite song at the time and it was my birthday. We should have taken heed of the deejay`s disco name “KALAHARI SHAKE SHAKE” and to add to the misery of this tragic name were two palm fronds standing on either side of the “deejay box”. He duly agreed and carried on with the most hideous music yet committed to vinyl and cassette tape. After what seemed an eternity enduring some sort of cruel Chinese torture and about 10 more beers my friend went back to the deejay box and was by now getting a tad vociferous and harsh in his request for this elusive U2 song. The deejay gave the thumbs up and we sauntered onto the dance floor ready to dazzle these farm chicks with our suave moves. The deejay then spoke... he reported that he had a special request for a U2 song, we were by now cheering, he then said in a terrible heavy Afrikaans accent that, “I have been asked to play U2, but i don’t have any U2 , but i do have Irish music”. He then proceeded to play The Blarney Brothers! The hatred and unhappiness was palpable, we jeered and cursed all the members of his family, extended family, his pet dog, the cockroaches in his kitchen and his ancestors. We regrouped and conducted a tactical retreat to the local bar in town where we were amazed and dazzled by the bar ladies impressive moustache. The following day after sorting our hangovers out with a hair of the dog we made our way to town once again to this time try our luck with the girls at the local water world. They had a huge super tube and it promised to be fun. This wonderland of fun was known as “die eiland” the island. Just keep in mind we are effectively in the middle of the desert and its a “warm” 45 degrees Celsius outdoors. The kids were having a rip of a time running up the stairs to the top of the super tube and launching themselves onto it for what should be a raucous ride to the pool waiting at the bottom. PROBLEM: for a super tube to work it needs a constant flow of water running down to assist the user to achieve a frictionless fun ride to the bottom. This particular super tube had no water( due to a dry spell to say the least) and thus the kids were not going anywhere in a hurry. The sound of dry skin squeaking on the ultra hot plastic super tube must have been torture. What a load of wally this town has turned out to be! The only saving grace this sandy dump of a town had was the “drive through “ bottle store. Yes, i bull schtein you not! They had a drive through liquor store, it had a window at which you could purchase your beer and brandy,, it was GENIUS! Sadly it didn’t do much for the don’t drink and drive campaign. After a month of this dump we were happy to get back to civilisation and the Castle bar in Pretoria till the boredom sets in again.

The next “bush” trip that came up was in the month before i was to clear out all together and rejoin civilian life. I had met a woman that i though was the bees knees and i was in the middle of one of those moments where i had to decide whether to dump my school sweetheart for this new “hotrod’. I decided to go on this next journey to Sodwana bay on an exercise known as a MAOT and i was member of a TAU. That`s army jargon for Mobile Air Operations Team and i was officially attached to the Tactical Air Unit although we were convinced it was actually a Tent Assembly Unit. We erected tents till the cows came home. The work was enjoyable and in all it was a better place than that shit hole Upington. We were at the sea side and we were groovy( one guy even took a surf board with). The bar was naturally one of the first parts of the base that were established and we weren’t afraid to make use of it. We worked in close cooperation with the ATC air traffic controller who was a very young green lieutenant fresh out of officer`s course. Only the air force in its infinite wisdom would take a serious stutterer and make him an air traffic controller. This poor dude would stammer even worse when put under pressure sitting in his little mobile ATC trailer atop the hill. We were by now known as “oumanne” old men and had “min dae”, few days left of National Service, so we were allowed certain liberties and our indiscretions while in the “bush” were all but overlooked. Drunkenness, untidy uniform incorporating civilian clothes were also tolerated so long as they didn’t affect our work.

One evening i was contemplating this whole should i dump the long term girl friend for the new fangled hot rod model or not? I was doing this deep thought process over a few beers sitting at the foot of the hill that the ATC tower was on and the stuttering lieutenant joined my pals and i for a few cold beers. We were sitting next to a Sakem recovery vehicle ( a mine protected tow truck) it has a huge ground clearance and when it started to drizzle we scooted under the Sakem to get out of the rain. The evening was upon us and as we were on an exercise we had a lights out policy so as to ensure we were not seen by the opposing soldiers partaking in what were war games. One of the guys wandered off into the darkness and got into the “Bulldog” an armoured personnel carrier similar to the Buffel, the difference being that the bulldog was utilised by the air force and its driver cab was in the middle of the vehicle as opposed to on the left side like the buffel. As no lights were allowed he made use of Cyclops night vision goggles brand new to the defence force and was called a Cyclops as it only had one “eye piece” jutting out front. I believe it made use of mirrors and stuff to reflect to one view. It took a bit of getting used to but worked magically. Anyways, while we were discussing the pro`s and cons of my dilemma one of the guys produced a monster joint. It was some of Durban`s finest Zol. We stoked it up and passed it around.( we broke out into the updated nursery rhyme that went a little something like this “ ROLL ROLL ROLL YOUR JOINT, TWIST IT AT THE END, LIGHT IT UP ,TAKE A PUFF AND PASS IT TO A FRIEND). What we started to notice was that the lieutenant was starting to speak fluently. The stuttering had been cured! Hallelujah ! we just made a medical break through. It must have been about two hours( i cannot confirm this as by now we were experiencing time loss). The twilight zone was taking its toll. In the distance we heard the familiar rumble of the approaching bulldog, we could not see it but we could sure hear it. We had now moved out from under the Sakem as the drizzle had abated and we had run out of pipes to pull out from under the truck, there was fluid leaking out everywhere. We had another big slow boat circulating and the driver of the bulldog just about flattened us when he pulled up to an abrupt halt. He had been following the huge red ember being passed around as a navigation “beacon” to the RV point ( the place we were sitting). He jumped down from the cab still donning the Cyclops eyewear and had a big plastic packet chock a block with more Durban Poison weed. CANNABIS GALORE! He had visited the local population and procured us the stash, we got goofed right out of our trees wholesale.
( JUST A FOOT NOTE : i do not condone the use of hallucinogenic drugs and i do not take drugs, hell i don’t even smoke cigarettes but we were in Sodwana Bay and it was what one does when in Rome apparently, i just don’t recall seeing the Colloseum but i attribute this to the fact that i was soooo stoned, I do recall vaguely that everything was just so greeeeen man)

The following day we were all suffering from “green fever” from way too much weed and the heat and humidity didn’t help much either. My tour in Sodwana wound down a week or so later and i made my way back to Waterkloof. The trip was an absolute raucous time and i maintain fond recollections of those crazy military days. I did dump the long term high school sweetheart and i pursued the “hotrod” leading to a later failed engagement. I was back at Waterkloof for a few weeks and i cleared out with my friends. We were ecstatic to be in civvie street and went and partied for a month non stop to celebrate our freedom. Or was it freedom? Civilian street is more of a prison than the army ever was. I missed the military so much that i volunteered to be called up for a camp the following year so that i could escape the monotony and treachery of civilian life. Monotonous in having to go to a dead beat job everyday and treacherous because of the underhanded , callous , self serving social climbers. These civilian types have zero loyalty and don’t practice team or unit. They love to harp on about team and unity but its all a lie!

I volunteered for two camps successively until the air force cancelled all camps for air force personnel. I was destroyed! However more on those camps at a future date and my employment by a PMC (private military company) Executive Outcomes.

Michael B Da Silva 85639201BT Lance Corporal South African Air Force Intelligence corps: operations (seriously that was my mustering)

MOTIVATIONS & PROPOSALS;

2011-10-03T15:31:00.000+02:00
ANTI POACHING

I WANT TO HELP

Good day . my name is Michael B Da Silva and I currently live in Somerset West. I have just about had enough of this slaughter of our national heritage and future generations natural assets. With every rhino poached yet another cycle within the already fragile system is put at risk of collapse. Soon we will only have pictures and videos left to prove that rhino exist. Our future generations will never have the chance to see these animals in person.

I want to get offline and inline and on the ground and utilise my knowledge and time to help in the fight to save our animals. I am a man with real world responsibilities and requirements and thus cannot offer my services free of charge. It is truly great that there are those who can offer their time free or at a bare minimum rate. Herein lies a part of the problem that perpetuates the poaching problem. Poachers are well funded, well respected men in society and are running a business whose sole intent is to make a profit. They arm their poaching teams well and they reward them with incentives aka(wages) which are obviously not low. Collusion is easily bought and the well meaning ranger can be pumped for information or Intel on rhino whereabouts in exchange for financial reward. The poachers also need Intel to know where exactly the “crash “ of rhino are or where the easiest target is. This Intel will be paid for and so it is logical that programs must be put in place to gather Intel and subtly investigate the staff at the ranches. From there it is vital to embark on a “hearts and minds” approach with the local population in surrounding villages. Offering support and even embarking on a reward system for accurate information pertaining to the movement and possible activities planned in the area. Locals are invaluable in garnering Intel as they are in contact with poachers on a daily basis- (they frequent the same taverns for example) the poachers are not strictly imported units and need to infiltrate the community to gather Intel of their own and find the weak link in the chain, then they use whatever means they have at their disposal to get the information they need, pass it to the “wallets” in charge(the business men) and execute their tasks from then on. It is ridiculous to think that poaching teams are independent entities acting as such. What we need are highly mobile units who can intercept and ward off attacks and more importantly arrest members of the poaching teams. They need to be interrogated and all information garnered disseminated to the security forces for further investigation. It must be noted that once the poachers have culled the animal and removed its horn , they have to have information and a rendezvous point with someone higher up who is then going to pay the poachers and carry the horn from there. We need this Intel and then need to keep following the chain of command as far up as we can or we then hand over the Intel to the police. We are not here to engage in military actions but must have people who are willing to do so if the need arises. We cannot have wide eyed bushy tailed youngsters or people who fit the profile as weak links in the anti poaching teams. The poachers are armed with automatic weapons and are not in business to be arrested, so they will defend their “freedom” vociferously. Anti poaching teams need the use of vehicles which are utilised as “mobile command posts”. The area of operations (the park) should be divided into blocks or sectors or whatever term is best suited and the team with vehicle sets up a temporary base camp and conducts foot patrol in a radius from there. I accept that vehicles make a noise but i am not suggesting driving around all day. The vehicle is a mobile command post from where patrols are despatched, the vehicle is also useful as shelter in the event of adverse weather or the presence of other wild life. The poachers definitely have transport waiting somewhere as i am very sure they do not “hump” all over the place carrying potentially thousands of Rands worth of highly valued rhino horn in their possession. The vehicles are valuable tools in the pursuit of poachers in order to effect “ arrest and interrogate” principles. The vehicle also allows teams that may be overwhelmed the ability of cover and aid in “escape and evasion”, moreover the vehicle also allows for the carrying of medical supplies and naturally can be used to ferry sick or injured members out of the area quickly. A broken ankle for example can be problematic for team members. Carrying kit and an immobilised comrade will “knacker” the whole team. Radio`s are great but the ability to move independently is of vital importance.
These principles are basic “COIN” counter insurgency principles that are employed similarly by military units. This may not be war but the ideologies remain the same. The ability to move at speed in pursuit of the poachers, intelligence gathering from the locals and effective vetting of all staff that work for the ranches. The poachers employ this tactic to their benefit and the tally of rhino culled to date stands testament to a well planned and executed slick operating machine. I am afraid to say that the anti poaching units are currently on the back leg and the de facto losing team. This can be attributed to internal politics and “chest heaving” which is allowing the poachers free reign while red tape and the employment of incorrect tactics allow the poachers to constantly hold the upper hand. Collusion of staff who are not paid market related salaries can be attributed to the perpetuation of information being disseminated to less than scrupulous individuals and there is at least one instance of a rhino being killed whilst in a safe area at a reserve, apparently shot at close range with a hand gun. There the investigation should start with the immediate staff and branch out from there. I am a man with real world responsibilities and have knowledge about tactics and Intel gathering, i am also fully aware that pursuing poachers can get hairy to say the least and that it is potentially very dangerous. We need to primarily understand that we are not a fighting unit and we are not here to shoot `em up. This attitude is damaging and will result in arrest for any member who thinks they can embark on a “Rambo” type approach. The approach must be professional and more over one that is what I call “PRO-ACTIONARY” as opposed to purely reactionary which anti poaching has become. Pro-actionary is simple. It combines the principles mentioned above with the emphasis on Intel gathering from the local population and the hearts and minds practice. Be this helping with building a church or rendering basic medical assistance. These types of practices also have a viable and positive spin off for the reserves who are looked at as simply being a money making enterprise. Yes you are in business to make money but you need the locals on your side. Actively teaching the locals that it is beneficial to them to volunteer information on potential poachers and their activities will in the long run provide not only the reserve/park with tourism but also keep the locals gainfully “employed” through the sale of curios etcetera. If the rhino are poached, the only group benefitting are the poachers who will be paid for their effort and the business men who are utilising the poachers to ingratiate their pockets and the park now has lost its “draw card” thus there will be a down turn in eco tourists and the locals too will feel this slump. They are not only helping to save some animals but are actively helping save their potential incomes. A reward system( cash) must be paid to those who provide Intel that is beneficial to the anti poaching initiative, this is a human anomaly and is vital i the garnering of the information we need in the tracking of poaching cells. Pay someone and they will talk. We must remember that once we have long left the area, the locals will still live there and thus any Intel garnered must be kept strictly confidential to avoid reprisal attacks for any information received. It is also very plausible that locals can be drafted into poaching units as guides etcetera. Poaching units are a cohesive unit and have some degree of military training and have proved to be highly mobile and thus “migratory” predators who will need the use of locals for shelter and as guides in unfamiliar terrain. If the tactics and other evidence left behind at varying poaching sites are investigated and correlated, i am very sure it will become evident that there is proof that one team is responsible for multiple attacks in different parks and provinces. Modus operandi , tactics and weaponry used is the key to confirming and linking a team to many attacks. It is logical to launch an attack and cull a rhino in for arguments sake in the northern cape and a few days later strike in the Limpopo province then take an animal down in the northern province after that. Its collectively known as “shoot and scoot”. While the ranch is reeling from the attack and all eyes are on the northern cape the poachers travel freely to their next target. It just makes sense that tactics like this be employed. The anti poaching units are now strictly reactionary and running around in the wrong region. It all comes down to intelligence gathering and dissemination. Paying for information is neither illegal nor morally repugnant, it is a mutually beneficial reward program. It is not bribery but a reward based initiative. Without this there would not be intelligence gathering.

I have written a release prior to this one where i have stated these points, it was done for an initiative . A group tried to get up and running but was fraught with teething problems from the outset and i was saddened and dismayed by its inability to get running. It seems that everyone wants to save our animals but no one wants to loosen the purse strings a tad to provide funding. I have therefore dispensed with the notion of a group or company set up and believe that direct employment by a game park is the only answer right now. Another approach is combining forces with other parks and farms to spread the financial load of having to employ ground staff. There are others who are capable and willing to carry this initiative through on the ground. Small teams on the ground within the pool of reserves/ parks gathering Intel and actively pursuing leads and poachers when the need arises is financially viable if the parks although in competition with each other over the tourism business must combine forces to combat what has become a losing war which the poachers and their “wallets” are winning. When the rhino have all but been eradicated the poachers wont simply pack up and go home. There is a huge supply and demand infrastructure in place and thus they will simply change from rhino to any other animal with a horn. Once ground down it will still be shipped as rhino horn to an ignorant consumer who will not know the difference. More species will end up being poached in order to keep the profitability of this industry going. The business men wont simply turn their backs on the very profitable trade when the rhino cease to exist, they will simply change tactics and species. Their financial bottom line is at stake. Nothing short of imprisonment and or professional disgrace in court will stop the “wallets” behind the slaughter. The poachers on the ground are an asset these business men utilise and there will never be a shortage of recruits to fill their ranks to compensate for those arrested or killed by security forces or anti poaching units. This is due to the appalling state of the market place and the stratospheric rate of unemployment in the country. The locals need to be educated about the importance of conservation. No eco tourists means that they (the locals) will suffer too. We are not only saving a species but our means of sustainability as well. The game farms will have to combine forces in such a way as to allow a mutually beneficial professionally courteous symbiotic co existence free of competition and bureaucratic wrangling. There is currently an eco tourist industry but it is under threat and the bottom line is that some money will have to be spent in order to fight this scourge that is poaching. It wont stay with the rhino exclusively and will migrate to other species( anything with a horn). That is a definitive!
I want to work and do my part in staunching the slaughter. I am not the only one. I do however require a sustainable income , as do the others that are willing to get out their lazy chairs and get offline and inline. We all have responsibilities (rent, bonds, children etc) and cannot work for love and fresh air alone. We have military experience and are all dedicated to ecology and to stop the un relentless carnage we see and hear of daily. We are all aware that we will be acting under the legal framework of the Republic of South Africa and will conduct ourselves professionally as none of us are willing to sit in prison for contravening the laws of the Republic.

I will attach the original release I had penned hereafter. It does in an abbreviated form what i have gone to lengths to explain here. The use of vehicles is imperative in the effective patrolling and pursuit of suspicious parties. Arresting potential poachers is important in order to glean information of those higher up in the chain of command and of the meeting places where the rhino horn was to be handed over. The poachers sure as hell don’t go to the local post office and post the horn. It is given to someone higher up in the food chain so to speak. It is noteworthy mentioning that the addition of dedicated individuals on the ground will also ease any concerns that prospective visitors to the park will have and could be a beneficial marketing tool. The tourists from outside the country want to feel safe when on game drives and the fact that you have assets in place employing tactics aimed at ensuring real time and effective Intel will put your visitors concerns to rest so they can have a care free holiday comfortable in the knowledge that you the game farm/ park are making concerted efforts to stop the butchery and provide a safe environ for your guests. As it stands the poaching syndicates are currently in the “driving seat” and are making a lot of money out of poaching. I am not entirely sure of the exact amount the horn fetches on the black market or in the open Asian market but it must be beneficial to the syndicates to send their teams into the field repeatedly. Spending for arguments sake one hundred thousand rand to make a million is good business. The totals I am sure are a lot more and I am simply using this as an example figure. THE POACHING TEAMS are most definitely being paid for their services and are as I have previously said. Well armed, well trained, have access to vehicles so thus are highly mobile and dedicated to their “job”. They are not doing this for love of the environment obviously. It is time for the anti poaching units to start employing COIN principles and stop being run as armed response which they currently are. The syndicates have the upper hand and it is high time that the anti poaching units employ a similar mindset or face failure to launch as is currently being experienced. The poachers are winning hands down and while finger pointing amongst the conservationists persist the animals are going to be slaughtered. Stop the red tape and excuses and start paying for the problem to be effectively tackled. This is what we want to do, others like myself. We are from all walks of life and socially diverse backgrounds with differing socio economic hurdles of our own. We still however want to be beneficial to the projects in place in combating the pointless barbarism that is poaching. We are ready to start and make a difference by proactively approaching the anti poaching field with a fresh set of SOP`s (standard operating procedures) . these are not empty words but a promise of a new approach to this problem. We have a lot more to lose than money.
I have military experience within the South African Air Force where my mustering was intelligence/ ops. My primary tasks were the tasking of air craft, the monitoring of these aircraft, the prepping of flight plans and the organising of CASEVAC procedures (casualty evacuation). I worked in both a base operations capacity at Air Force Base Waterkloof and also in the operational area of the then South West Africa at Air Force Base Rundu. I also was utilised in bush tours within the Republic as a FACP (forward air command post) member and TAU (tactical air unit). Further more I worked for Executive Outcomes( PMC, private military company) in Angola as a member of their Air wing. My duties included refuelling , marshalling of all company aircraft , maintaining flight line safety and basic runway maintenance as well as duties in the weapons store providing small arms, (weapons) maintenance. I will attach all necessary proof of employment to verify my credentials pertaining to my ex mil ( including a recently dated official service certificate from the SANDF which states my start date and termination of active reserve date and my mustering) I will also include my PMC experience and details confirming employment within Eeben Barlow`s now shut down company Executive Outcomes. My strong background within the private security industry is also beneficial and I will also attach my complete c.v. as proof of experience. My c.v. is also available online on my info web page at www.michaelbdasilva.20m.com
My contact details are as follows: I currently reside in Somerset West.
Cell: 0789489847
Email. michaelbdasilva@gmail.com
Email. michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com

Rhino Anti-poaching Press Release
“
Poaching in South Africa has reached “epidemic” proportions with the almost daily slaughter of our natural resources and future generations heritage.”
Michael da Silva

If we don’t step up and do something now, we will all but witness the extinction of big game as we know it and be collectively responsible for allowing the butchery to have happened unabated. The time has come to take a stand and change the way we approach the “disease” that is poaching and also get up and stand unified in the fight against the senseless killing of our big game.

ANTI POACHING is not a new concept, we are not selling a new product nor are we claiming to have all the answers to poaching. What we do stand for is a new approach to the anti poaching industry through proactive actions as opposed to purely reactionary. This is , we are not merely here to keep a tally of the already slaughtered animals but to actively investigate , interact and pursue those guilty of propagating the slaughter. We propose to install teams on the ground that can investigate and interview all those personnel that could be open to collusion with poaching syndicates, interact with the local population through a hearts and minds program to gleam information on the movement and intentions of potential poachers in the area, the pursuit and arrest of the poaching “foot soldiers” for questioning and intelligence gathering of those individuals bank rolling the poaching operations and finally to ensure the intelligence gathered be disseminated to the relevant authorities for further investigation and arrests. The “organizers” of the poaching groups must be identified and brought into the public arena. The need for affecting arrests of poachers is of utmost importance for a successful outcome and imprisonment of guilty parties. This task will not be without its dangers and therefore dedicated, loyal and previously trained professionals will be utilized in the field. We are not a military/militant unit but will if the needs arise defend ourselves within the constraints of the laws governing the republic. We are average ex military personnel who have decided to stand up for our natural heritage and do something about the senseless slaughter of Rhino’s within our countries borders. This will be a daunting task and will be both physically and mentally/spiritually demanding on the members of the anti poaching teams who are under no illusions as to the discomfort, dangers and distances they will be from their own loved ones. The reality of the situation is that if we don’t do something immediately to stem this eradication of our big game we will have nothing to show our future generations other than pictures in books.

It is time we stand up and do something and that is what we as Rhino LAPS propose to do. We are leaving the safety and comfort of our homes and online discontent pertaining to the poaching dilemma and are physically moving into the field to meet the challenge head on. I have stated before that we are not a militant unit but we are under no misgivings that there is a very real risk to the unit and will defend ourselves within the legal framework. Our mission is to arrest those involved in the on the ground killing with the sole purpose of garnering information of those higher up the ladder and ultimately bring them to justice. Poaching is big business and therefore we aim to eat at the bottom line, this is; make it a non profitable enterprise for the poaching “bosses”. A business’s sole purpose is to generate profits and if we can hamper the profitability of the business it will cease to exist. We are under no illusions that this is not going to be an easy task or walk in the park and that the teams lives could invariably be threatened but it is something each member will fully understand and accept. We are doing this for more than financial gain. Our natural heritage is at stake.

Michael B Da Silva
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
http://thedasilvacode.com

SAD STATE OF AFFAIRS

2011-09-30T08:39:00.002+02:00
It seems that as soon as anyone wants to do good there will be those who will do their best to derail the process by making wild promises and empty assurances. They have their negative noddy associates who are in tow and see to it that they will only find the negative and make comments as such.

This has happened to me and others who do genuinely want to make a stand against injustices and damaging practices being conducted daily on the environment. We are ready and willing to get out of our lazy chairs and tear ourselves away from our online protestations and outrage typed in upper case for maximum online effect. We want to embark on a sustainable contract and be deployed to the area needed. We need the help of those online people to do the fund raising and negotiate in face to face meetings with potential investors so we can get on with the task at hand. Unfortunately the reality is that there are just so many untrustworthy self servers out there that posture and pass judgement while ingratiating themselves, blowing their own trumpets without shame. Then dropping the whole project on its collective arse and by default abandoning their comrades. Some leadership. Some business acumen. Some loyalty.

I have learned yet another lesson in life. You CANNOT trust anyone you meet within social network forums and must never count on anything they say before meeting face to face and signing a legitimate contract. I have been duped this time, however all is not lost. There are still those willing to try and put their money where their mouths are. All i require as a man and father with responsibilities is a show of faith in me and i will duly reciprocate. One hand does indeed wash the other. It is noteworthy mentioning that when i was in the military and then working for a PMC (private military company) i was transported, clothed, armed, fed and paid for my services. Soldiers dont pay their own way to go to war. If they do they are called beligirant mercenaries which i as a professional type person are not! I am disciplined and an asset in my capacity and expect to be paid an at least minimum sustainable wage. I reiterate. I am a man and father with real world responsibilities.

I want to be part of the initiative to stop or at very least curtail the senseless butchery of our wild life but i deserve to be paid for my services. I have previously written in a proposal for an anti poaching set up that the problem can be attributed to collusion between well funded poachers and rangers who earn peanuts. Pay a decent wage and you will get decent men on the ground. Pay crap and expect exactly that.

Stop the poaching and part with a few bucks if you are serious about conservation. Online outrage is just that, online. I want to get inline and on the ground being taken seriously.
I AM HERE TO BE UTILISED AND NOT USED

Michael B Da Silva.

SPUTNIK & the SPY

2011-09-25T16:07:00.000+02:00
SPUTNIK & THE SPY
copious imbibing madness from Air Force Base Rundu Sector 20 South West Africa 1988/89
Timeline: 03 August 1988 to 13 April 1989
.Basics to Border.

I matriculated from school in December 1987 and was ready for my compulsory military service of two years to begin on the 3rd of august 1988. I was in the second call up period and i was super stoked and could barely wait to get into military uniform and embark on an adventure. The 7 months i had to play with between January and august were spent “training” really hard for my new career in the military. I partied till i sometimes puked and drank like there was no tomorrow and when tomorrow came i shrugged the hangover off and launched a fresh attack . The women , wine and song ROCKED!

The 3rd of august rolled around and i had my call up papers in pocket and was sitting on the train at Johannesburg station readying to depart for basic training at Valhalla air force gymnasium. Basics in the air force was a run of the mill affair, there was the running, marching and esteem breaking/ building tasks necessary to build a soldier fit to be part of the greatest army in the world. That was the handle the military played and i accepted this to be the truth. I started off as G1 K1 ( fully fit and able bodied) but after a week i was re classified to G3 K2 ( not entirely medically fit) this was due to an accident i had been involved in as a young child leaving me with a foot that had a collapsing arch and was two sizes different from the other. I wore a size ten shoe regardless and the sliding around of my stunted foot had aggravated my scar and so i was duly reclassified to the “bomb squad” the name used to denote the G3 squadron at the Valhalla gymnasium. Not all our G3 compatriots were crocks, we had in our ranks a professional national tennis player and golfer, they were sent to the G3 squadron to prevent injuries and impede their game. Anyways G3 was a doddle and a shorter basics program than the G1 K1 program. We were situated conveniently at the bottom of the base and our bungalow was adjacent to the perimeter wall. This allowed us easy access in and out of the base to get to the liquor store and local Kentucky Fried Chicken a few blocks away in the neighbourhood. Having a dad that worked as an area manager for a booze company also had its benefits. I had a very lucrative “business” running during basics supplying all and sundry with booze at a premium price. The guys happily paid two to three times the cost for the booze i had to sell. Our basics open day (the day when family came to visit) was a particularly drunken affair as the guys were allowed to drink at the beer garden and obviously it all went pear shaped quickly. Once my pals had left and my then active girlfriend ,i embarked on the planning of a cunning plan to go AWOL and spend the weekend with her. Over a few beers we (my two fellow inmates and i ) had laid our plans out and gone through our very sophisticated escape and evasion plan. We were basically going to jump the perimeter wall and run like hell through the field along side air force base Zwatkops across the road and hike along the highway. Brilliantly cunning plan i thought. That night the three of us hopped the wall and ran swaying side to side through the veld, the swaying was not a diversionary tactic so much as simply the inability to walk in a straight line due to the copious amounts of beer and whisky we had consumed. We eventually were given a lift by two permanent force members going to Johannesburg on leave, they were driving a Toyota Cressida and had the cassette tape of U2`s the Joshua tree playing. The song that was playing when we got in was “I still haven`t found what i am looking for”, which is still in my personal top 20 all time favourite songs. We were dropped off in Hillbrow and legged it to the rendezvous point we had arranged with our “outsider”. The outsider was the brother of my compatriot and worked as a DJ at a club called KISS DISCO. It was a seriously dubious dive but the beer flowed freely and the females keen to dance with us AWOL renegades. Things get a tad fuzzy and my recollection fades. I awoke the next morning though in bed with my girlfriend. Apparently my buddies had dropped me off at her place in the early hours of the morning. Her name was Charlene and was a belter of note, her mother was a hard core Christian but seemed to really like me and did not seem at all phased by me being there in her daughters bed in the morning, she brought me coffee and welcomed me with a big smile. On return to Valhalla we slipped over the wall and rejoined our flight ( air force equivalent of the army platoon). Monday morning was hell, the hangover was ringing in my head like a cathedral bell being rung by Quasi Modo! Then came the daily “opvok” PT session designed to expressly destroy mind body and spirit, add this to a hangover of biblical proportions and you have an effective torture ritual. We were lined up and then asked to volunteer our names as to who had gone AWOL over the weekend. The silence of the lambs fell over the entire squadron as thoughts of punishment and other horrid means of punishment ran amok in our minds. A few of the wankers in the squadron decided to volunteer some names of their pals who had gone AWOL, these good citizens were told to go and sit under the shaded tree. To avoid being pimped by my supposed comrades i stood forward and told the Sergeant present that i had indeed gone AWOL. I was soon joined by a few others. The Sergeant then handed over proceedings to the PTI corporal in charge and he read a list of names of those not present at Sundays roll call. Those names were sent to stand in another place and the small group of us that had admitted our guilt were asked by a particularly gnarly corporal “ did you guys have fun?” we all muttered that we indeed did have a fucking fantastic time. He congratulated us and dismissed us and sent us back to our bungalow. The “pimps” were then hustled off from their shaded tree and taken to the parade ground where they spent the remainder of the day being suitably punished for dropping their mates in the shit. Those that weren’t man enough to fess up were given the remainder of basics “mess hall duty”, we all hated mess duty. Peeling veggies and serving up food like a servant to the rest of the guys. We learned our first real lessons in camaraderie that day.

Our basics was shorter than the G1 K1 and thus were busy with our second phase (course) within our varying fields. Some were sent to air force security, some to intelligence, others to be mess hall bunnies and i was off to ops course. I was super stoked as i was going to be doing something more meaningful than peeling carrots all day. We were ferried daily to Pretoria central where we learned all about flight plans and related procedures that we would be using soon. I had volunteered to go directly to the border and was told one morning that i was to go off to air force base Rundu in Sector 20 in South West Africa after completion of the course. Once again i was super stoked and i celebrated that evening at a bar in Voortrekker Hoogte after once again jumping the wall. It was October when i boarded the Hercules C130 transport plane (flossie) and left for Rundu and the adventure of a lifetime serving our country in what was still war time. Life in Rundu was grand and i thoroughly enjoyed the whole idea of being on the border. We as airmen ate in the communal officers mess out of plates as opposed to the infantry who were still eating out of varkpanne (pig pans) and living under silly draconian laws like only being able to drink two beers a day. The Rundu bar was amazing and every Friday saw the bar open in the evening to the song “all fired up” by Pat Benetar off her album that had just been released, the bar man was a dedicated permanent force flight sergeant and we all wanted his job! The bar area and attached thatched entertainment area was called the “Shitingura”, and we had a small pool. This was the life. Much heavy drinking was practiced at the bar and many funny instances occurred leading sometimes to discipline being instilled in those that went a “bridge too far” so to speak. One Saturday afternoon a pile of air force security guards went on a drinking binge and were totally pissed by the time it came for them to stand “beat” (guard duty), one particular idiot went and passed out on the grassy area right next to the runway and when the daily “flossie” came in for landing they radioed in that there was a dead dude lying on the runway approach with his weapon next to him. All hell broke loose as the “flossie” did an overshoot and climbed rapidly to altitude out of reach of shoulder fired anti air craft weapons such as RPG`s and such. The entire security section mobilised and raced to the afflicted soldier only to find him gormlessly drunk. The security section were effectively banned from the bar for a month as punishment. Naturally we could not allow this unfair practice to be unleashed on our pals and we also could not allow a money making opportunity pass us by. We milked these sods for all their daily danger pay in exchange for beer. The guys would bury the beer in the sand for an hour or so and then drink them in one go through a straw to get the desired effect from only one beer. We sat in the shitingura and sipped our ice cold “frosties” in comfort. At 85 cents for a beer and the same amount for a can of coke a cola it was therefore superfluous for anyone to drink cold drink, why drink a coke when beer costs the same? Fridays saw the tradition of “greenies & brownies”, greenies was a mixture of peppermint schnapps , sambuca and a beer chaser that was given to new arrivals. Brownies was a double shot of Stroh rum , kahlua and a beer chaser. Sometimes a “weekend warrior” from head quarters would get his greenie and brownie in the same evening. We scoffed at these arse holes as they were there to simply say they were on the border. A weekend of relaxation at the Shitingura didn’t count as border duty! One Friday evening my friend Dion and I sat and drank till we had our fill quite literally. There was simply no space left for any more liquid in our systems. Dion leaned back on his bar stool and fell straight off the stool onto his back on the bar floor narrowly missing a dart that had been thrown by two guys playing a game of darts. Dion was lying there on the floor doing back stroke, he truly believed he was swimming in the pool. I left him there tanning at night and swayed off back to my crater but i was too out of it so i stopped and slept in a vacant tent. I awoke in the morning with my arms hanging out the tent and i was puking all sorts. I must have been propped up with my arms over the tent side for some time as i was severely chafed under my armpits by the coarse canvas of the tent. I started sweating in the heat and the pain from the chafing and sweat was unbearable. I walked around with my arms slightly raised like i had such big muscles that i could not put my arms down. One guy retorted that i looked like i was carrying watermelons under my arms and wanted to know if i thought i was Lebanese? . I made a mental note to myself to never hang my arms over an army tent ever again. Dion was duly banned from the bar for a month, luckily he had an insider that could bring him beer and other treats back to his tent. He had not yet been lucky enough to be issued a crater as he was still tagged as being a “bos roof” (bush raw recruit). He arrived after me by a few weeks and the military had a complex series of levels. These were . “ rou roofie” ( raw recruit) like in basics. “Roofie” the months after basics. “Bos roofie” a “bush raw recruit” . “blou gat” (blue arse) this is a mid term national service man and then there is “ouman” old man , this is the national service man that has less than three months left of his national service. ” bos oupa”, bush grand father , this is the highest rank in the military. A national service man that will clear out of the military in less than three months and is still on the border. These men are the most respected people in the military next to a camper. ( a civilian force member called up for duty after leaving national service) reserve force. I left the border as a blougat and very proud of my time on the border. I received two certificates , a medal (eventually by post in 1995) and promotion to lance corporal after arriving at air force base Waterkloof.

One evening in November just before my 19th birthday i embarked on a drinking spree of legend! Armed with R100 my mom had posted to me for my birthday i sauntered into the bar like John Wayne and got busy. At 85 cents for a beer and 15 cents for a tot of vodka it was surely going to be a hairy operation. After the assault on my sobriety i made my way back to my “crater” (concrete bungalow) where four guys shared the space. We had a silly tradition of punching holes in the ceiling board when we got pissed, nobody knows who started this dilly practice but we carried it on as if by law. I got on my short “kas” (green army steel cupboard) and let rip with a punch of note! Little did i see that i was punching in the area of a piece of brandering but also managed to connect the nail head that secured the brandering to the wooden beam in the ceiling. The pain even in my drunken state was so intense that i fell off the cupboard in agony writhing as if i had just been given a prostate exam by a giant. My right fist swelled and started resembling something in a cartoon. My party came to an abrupt end and i slinked off to bed to lick my wounds. A while later i had the need for a huge pee and i got up swaying and bumping into stuff in the dark, i was so out of it that i was convinced that i had walked for at least a mile when i bumped into something metallic and cool. i took this as the urinal in the toilet block and duly whipped it out and started to pee. All of a sudden there was a light to my lower right and a face was staring up at me! I shouted in disgust
“what the fuck are you doing you sick fuck, are you spying on me while i piss, are you a moffie?!?!?!!”
The reply came “
dude ,you are pissing in my cupboard”.
I looked down and the fog cleared from my eyes enough to confirm the statement as true and i duly crimped the end of my tally whacker to try staunch the flow but it just made it spray all over the place, so i turned and stumbled out pissing all over the place as i went. By now i was laughing and gagging at the same time, my friend whose cupboard had been utilised as a urinal was not yet finding the funny side of it all. When morning came the hilarity started setting in with all the guys and even the poor guy who i had accused of being a spy and gay was laughing at my stupidity. I however wasn’t out of the woods yet, i would first have to wash all the guys clothes that were in the cupboard, his blankets, pillow, boots et al. Rewinding back a tad. Imagine waking up to someone pissing passed your face into your cupboard and then being accused of being a deviant sexual pervert. I stood there in the bleeding hot sun with all this guys clothes hand cranking the Sputnik (manual spun steel drummed washing machine ) i was turning this behemoth 100 turns in one direction followed by 100 turns in the other, take all water out add clean water for the rinse cycle, a further 100 spins of this by now “wheel of misfortune”. I started looking a tad green around the gills and soon i was puking my lungs out giving the other guys much to laugh at. A couple turns and a wretch followed by a few more turns and some more puking. I ended up at the medics on a Dextrose drip but i had at least completed my task of washing all the clothes. I was somewhat of a celebrity when i left the medics later that evening and arrived in the bar for a “regmaker”( hair of the dog) . By now my exploits had made its rounds through the air force part of the base and the mean as hell RSM( regimental sergeant major) an acting RSM as he held the rank of Flight Sergeant named Itel Zurich still managed to commend me on my stupidity. I got off easy considering the poor guy whose cupboard i peed in was branded as a “ peeping tom” from then on. (Hence the “spy” part of this story). My 19th birthday passed by quite tame in comparison to the pee “event” that preceded it.

Just before new years eve a friend of mine whom we called “DEKKIES” short for dextrose and i went on a bender and got up to all manner of mischief like riding the Met monkey`s (meteorological / weather man`s ) little Suzuki 1oo up and down the runway at top speed while pissed as coots, we would later tell the ATC(air traffic controller) we were conducting runway checks. Anyway , dekkies and i decided we wanted to go into Rundu town and visit a civilian lady who worked for the army as a secretary of sorts, she was known to be quite keen on air force personnel and was not a difficult snag. The only catch was that this flame red haired freckled faces “overweight” / plumpish woman was as ugly as all sin! She was collectively known as KMS kilo mike sierra( kokorot met snawel or translated as cockroach with beak). Anyways we were pissed and horny as all hell ,so we in our infinite wisdom hatched a diabolically complex plan to get out the base and ride the Suzuki to Rundu town and shag this easy roller. Our plan was two pronged, we would ride to the gate of the base and then turn left and ride to Rundu. However our well laid plans were thwarted by the army security at the main gate. They would not let us out the gate because we didn’t have a signal giving us permission to leave the base with a regimental vehicle after hours and obviously while intoxicated as skunks. The army guys were helpful and told us of the gate at the far end of the fence line that had been washed out by the recent heavy rains that left a deep chasm under the fence that we could possibly drag the bike through and set off for our meeting with “KMS”. Apparently they had all heard of her too and showed us the direction to head off into. With no front light and me wearing a staal dak( steel outer helmet) and my pal donning the “doibey” (inner plastic helmet) we set off down the dirt track at speed hurtling at what seemed near breakneck speed, the tears flowing in my eyes from the wind. The staal dak was spinning around on my head like a carousel as we rode and dekkies was clutching a bottle of brandy in one hand and a beer mug in the other. I tried my best to keep to the track but did not see the fence that was jutting out in our path and we hit the chain link fence at speed. We crashed to the ground and petrol was pissing out of the tank and all over us. Dekkies was moaning that his hand was sore, and when we checked he had a huge gash across his inner palm up to his thumb and it was deep. He was bleeding like e pig at slaughter and my back was sore. Undeterred we picked the bike up and attempted to proceed however the front fork was bent and the tyre was flat, added to that we were worse for the wear and the hollow under the gate was not deep enough for us to get the bike through, we decided to call it a day and limped the Suzuki back to the ops room and left it where we found it. By now dekkies was delirious and in need of medical attention. We walked to the medics and he was put onto surprise ,surprise a dextrose drip and had his palm stitched. A week later he was transferred to 1 military hospital to “dry out”. I believe he may have had a drinking problem? In the morning the met monkey went ape shit when he found his Suzuki standing there covered in blood and dust with a bent fork and flat tyre. I professed all innocence and assured him that i was firmly tucked into my bed the previous evening. “everyone believed me”. The C ommandant did find this a tad humerous and i think chalked it up to youthful exuberance and was not to worried about the motor bike as we were busy “pulling out” of South West Africa and were told that we would leave nothing behind in a serviceable state that could not be returned to the Republic. We destroyed our ops room under express orders from the Commandant. 320 FACP( forward air command post) within the army ops centre was totally wrecked, with all maps, photo`s , signals, flight plans and equipment destroyed and burned and buried. One Sunday while the UNTAG contingent were having a big slap up luncheon put on by the SAAF at the officers mess , we were busy loading all we could on a bakkie ( pick up truck) and heading off to the end of the runway near the engineers section where they had graded an enormous hole earlier with their bull dozer and we put everything in the hole. Trammels ( foot lockers) with thousands of papers inside were tossed in along with “balsakke”( duffle bags), we climbed into the hole and poured many litres of AVGAS(aviation gasoline) all over the contents and then left ten or so open jerry cans in the hole. We retreated to what we perceived was a safe distance and one of the guys threw a pencil flare towards the hole. Before the flare got to the hole it erupted into a huge orange fireball. Apparently AVGAS fumes are highly flammable and the resultant eruption left us all very “sun burned” and my one eyebrow was totally singed off. The smell of singed hair mixed with the smell of AVGAS was overbearing. The fireball was massively spectacular but short lived as it burned out very quickly. The engineers got busy grading the whole lot closed very quickly so as to “hide” our activities. The UNTAG compliment was not that large at that time so it was easy to pull the wool over their eyes. We retreated to the bar for well earned beer and become the laughing stock due to our newly acquired sun burns and” eyebrow augmentation.” From new years day onward we were transferred from 320 FACP to base ops at the flight line.

With the arrival of UNTAG our collective drinking skills were once again brought to the fore and we were commended by the career soldiers of the Finnish army on our prowess when it came to the imbibation of copious amounts of alcohol. We were all between the ages of 18 and 21 and out drank the career soldiers whose average ages were 30. Many “drinkathons” were embarked on with our new found friends from Finland, they were however very badly suited to duty in the hot South West Africa and they fell early by the wayside during our “pissups”.
The military was a great place and i loved every moment of the time spent in uniform and i was very serious at my job when i worked. However when work was done i partied hearty like i was on a mission from god or some other deity. We played hard but we also worked hard. It wasn’t all beer and sunshine but it was the greatest time of my life both the good and bad times.

The border was a great place and there is no doubt in my mind that today`s youth are desperately lacking in the fibre and moral direction required to become true men. The easy way out has become the order of the day with today`s youth and even through all the wild antics we got up to we were a disciplined well orientated bunch of young men.
Michael B Da Silva , Lance Corporal 85639201bt
www.michaelbdasilva.20m.com

STOP the poaching

2011-09-22T12:02:00.002+02:00
ANTI POACHING

Poaching in South Africa has reached "epidemic" proportions with the almost daily slaughter of our natural resources and future generations heritage. If we don't step up and do something now, we will all but witness the extinction of big game as we know it and be collectively responsible for allowing the butchery to have happened unabated. The time has come to take a stand and change the way we approach the "disease" that is poaching and also stand unified in the fight against the senseless killing of our big game.

ANTI POACHING is not a new concept, we are not selling a new product nor are we claiming to have all the answers to poaching.
What we do stand for is a new approach to the anti poaching industry through proactive actions as opposed to purely reactionary. We are not merely here to keep a tally of the already slaughtered animals but to:

Actively investigate , interact and pursue those guilty of propagating the slaughter.

Install teams on the ground that can investigate and interview all those personnel that could be open to collusion with poaching syndicates.

Interact with the local population through a hearts and minds program to glean information on the movement and intentions of potential poachers in the area.

The pursuit and arrest of the poaching "foot soldiers" for questioning and intelligence gathering of those individuals bank rolling the poaching operations.

Ensure intelligence gathered be disseminated to the relevant authorities for further investigation and arrests.

The "organisers" of the poaching groups must be identified and brought into the public arena. The need for affecting arrests of poachers is of utmost importance for a successful outcome and imprisonment of guilty parties.
This task will not be without its dangers and therefore dedicated, loyal and previously trained professionals will be utilised in the field. We are not a military/militant unit but will if the needs arise defend ourselves within the constraints of the laws governing the republic. We are average ex military personnel who have decided to stand up for our natural heritage and do something about the senseless slaughter of Rhino`s within our countries borders.

This will be a daunting task and will be both physically and mentally/spiritually demanding on the members of the anti poaching teams who are under no illusions as to the discomfort, dangers and distances they will be from their own loved ones. The reality of the situation is that if we don't do something immediately to stem this eradication of our big game we will have nothing to show our future generations other than pictures in books.

It is time we stand up and do something and that is what we as Rhino LAPS propose to do. We are leaving the safety and comfort of our homes and online discontent pertaining to the poaching dilemma and are physically moving into the field to meet the challenge head on. As stated before that we are not a militant unit but we are under no misgivings that there is a very real risk to the unit and will defend ourselves within the legal framework.

Our mission is to arrest those involved in the on the ground killing with the sole purpose of garnering information of those higher up the ladder and ultimately bring them to justice.
Poaching is big business and therefore we aim to eat at the bottom line, this is, make it a non profitable enterprise for the poaching "bosses". A business's sole purpose is to generate profits and if we can hamper the profitability of the business it will cease to exist. We are under no illusions that this is not going to be an easy task or walk in the park and that the teams lives could invariably be threatened but it is something each member will fully understand and accept.
We are doing this for more than financial gain. Our natural heritage is at stake!

THE CRAZY TRAIN !

2011-09-21T08:29:00.001+02:00

ONE FLEW “INTO” THE CUCKOO`S NEST

MY STINT IN THE BIN

This is a true story of my time spent in 1 Military hospital`s psychiatric ward. Ten days of pure beyond bizarre strangeness.
This all begins back in 1989 while i was in Rundu coming to the end of my bush tour. It was Monday the 20th of march and my new “roofie” green/ raw recruit had climbed off the plane on Sunday the 19th to take my slot for the few weeks before complete withdrawal from the then South West Africa. I was to be rotated to air force base Waterkloof where i would carry on with my National Service for the second year. We had a tradition for our new arrivals, we would break out the malaria tablets (nivaquine) which are bitter as hell and get the roofies to chew them. It would take no more than 4 to get the desired result of the poor dude hurling all over the floor. My roofie who was a skinny nerdish dude proved to be one tough customer and had us flabbergasted when he calmly chewed through the tenth nivaquine. Not to be undone and overshadowed by my roofie i decided in my infinite wisdom to show him how the “oumanne” (old men) do it. I promptly picked up the nivaquine tub we had in the ops room and poured a generous helping of thirty or so into my hand and promptly popped them into my mouth and washed them down with a splash of horrid tasting army orange juice. I was the man! I had just showed the roofie what was what and i was awesome! My awesomeness quickly took a turn for the worst when i broke out into an unrelenting sweat and my muscles went lame, i collapsed into a heap on the floor shuddering and blubbering uncontrollably. The medics were immediately called over the “squawk box” (internal base intercom system) and a Samel 20 converted ambulance pulled up outside the ops room door. The medics quickly loaded me into the ambulance and drove as if pursued by the Philistines. At the medics bay i was loaded onto the operating table and the doctor got to work trying to administer a endo tracheal tube to supply oxygen to my now collapsed lungs. I fell into unconsciousness and was rushed to the airstrip where the daily “flossie” a Hercules C130 transport aircraft was about ready to leave for Waterkloof air force base. I had just become a CASEVAC!(casualty evacuee)

Unbeknownst to me, Nivaquine if taken in overdose amounts acts as a muscle relaxant and thus my hearty went and relaxed, a lot. I was subjected to heart massage of which i cannot remember if it were done by a Swedish masseuse or Thai one.? At 19 i had me a heart attack due to overdosing on anti malaria tablets as a gag! On my arrival at air force base Waterkloof i was then airlifted by Puma helicopter to 1 Military hospital and taken into emergency. When i came to i had a rubber mouth piece glued to my face with the tube still inserted into my throat, however the tube was clogged by gob, blood, vomit and pieces of stomach lining eaten away by the huge amount of Nivaquine in my system. Mosquitoes everywhere avoided me like the plague. I remember going into panic as i couldn’t get breath in and yanked the mouth piece off my face taking a little skin with it. I then duly vomited all over the show and all over my father`s shoes. Yes my father was at my bed side. My parents had been phoned by my pals in Rundu from the ops room telephone and my folks rushed to Pretoria to see if i was still alive. It was a few very painful days before i was visited by the head shrink to evaluate whether i was suicidal or just plain stupid. I can with certainty state that it was the latter. It was decided to send me to the psychiatric ward for further observation and decide what to do with me.
I reported to the psychiatric ward as ordered and opened the ward door to find a nurses station on the right side, rooms to the left and a long passage with a long table in the passage way. I was shown my bed and told that i will have to make my own bed each morning or i would forfeit points. I was told that the bed did not have to be done like during basics but it must be made. All meal times were to be taken at the long table in the corridor , failure to do so and points would be deducted. The same went for occupational therapy sessions and PT, failure to partake would result in points being deducted. I asked about these points. It was explained to me that for all the above , a point system was put in place and points would be deducted for non compliance to rules and activities which meant we would not be able to go home on the weekend. What! Shit, this is splendid, i am in the nut house and i still get to go home on pass on the weekend, all i need to do is obey some more military laws and rules, easy peasy. I was now introduced to my fellow screw balls and told that i may NOT refer to them by their rank and only by their surnames. There were a few infantry guys and a very gay dude who had already tried to commit suicide numerous times, his dad wanted a rugby player as a son but got a hairdresser instead and this was just not on back in the 80`s so he forced his light in the shoes son to go to the army. After the usual teasing and occasional beating by his platoon mates in basics he tried to kill himself for the first time. He was more female than male and was one of those that were born gay as opposed to a social gay. Then there was a drug addict of note and we called him druggie with which he was happy. It was soon going to be his 20th birthday and he was in the best place to get “medicated”. A hospital is a great place to get prescription meds of all sorts and we would gladly share our meds with him. We would stand in queue and get our meds and our “points” and then hand what we didn’t trust to druggie. On his birthday we made him a big collage birthday card in occupational therapy with dagga leaves and syringes drawn on it and the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRUGGIE” from ward 9. It brought a tear to his eye, i shit you not. We all duly were awarded points for our comradeship. Furthermore we had a 32 battalion sergeant major who had a little bit of a break down of the nervous variety. It was very disconcerting for me as an airman to have to refer to the sergeant major from 32 Bn by his surname! The same went for the Colonel who had had a stroke on the golf course and could not recall who he was at all. That was odd. A colonel and Sergeant Major and we may not call them by name. Very odd for a troepie indeed. We all had to sit together at the table and say grace for each meal time. I was asked to say grace and my effort was as such. I bowed my head and clasped my hands and started the grace as “rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub”. I didn’t even so much as get a skew look, the sergeant major ended it with Amen and we knazzed down.
What got to me was our visits to occupational therapy each day. We had to go to the ground floor ward and play table tennis and darts with each other to show that we could integrate and interact with one another and by doing this we scored points. Naturally, being the most sane one there i could not let this opportunity pass by without starting nonsense. I would start using the entire room as a table tennis court and throw the darts from the far end of the room at the dart board, (here i lost a few points). We never had the sergeant major with us as he was taken elsewhere for EST( electro shock therapy), i still wonder just how effective this sort of treatment really is? This man should have been sent to club med for some R&R and not treated as if he were buzz lightyear. That`s my opinion anyway.

Now each morning we had to gather in the corridor wearing our government issue “chappie wrapper” gowns and do “aerobics”. Yes aerobics. We stood there all lined up shoulder to shoulder and watching a truly bizarre woman wearing a leotard and gold glitter high platform shoes , topped off by leg warmers and pumping high energy music from her boom box we had to do star jumps and other dilly moves that must have made us really look like lunatics. I was certain that this woman must be from the ladies ward because man was she a fruit loop. Our visitors would come and visit and we were once again penalised points if we were out of line during visits, this was made increasingly difficult by my friends who like me have very weird senses of humours. Knowing well that i was in the psychiatric ward they duly arrived to visit me bringing me a bunch of carrots as opposed to flowers. These carrots i must just state were possibly the biggest i have ever seen and my one friend Gillian was sitting there with one particularly enormous carrot sizing it up with her open mouth saying ”i got to meet this man!:” The one guy in the bed adjacent to mine who was being visited by his very Christian parents did not find this amusing at all. The nut house had just gotten nuttier. My pals informed me of the upcoming street party at Gold Reef City and i wanted to be there! So my behaviour was impeccable for the remainder of the week and come Friday i had oodles of points and was turned loose on society along with an aggressive anti social dude i had befriended in the ward. He was interred in the ward after beating up his corporal in basics who woke him up and apparently he had a bad reaction to being told what to do. In the psychiatric ward he also had punched a doctor and hurled obscenities and chairs etc. He was funnily enough also turned loose on society that weekend.

I arrived at Gold Reef City and laid siege to the bar! I was very merry and was chatting up two very dippy broads when the familiar holler spoiled all chances i had of scoring with one of these lovely ladies. Psycho as he was known in the ward screamed at me “ hey Mike its me Psycho from the psycho ward at 1 mil”. The two ladies i was trying so hard to impress suddenly evaporated from the scene. Anyways, we went on with getting roaring drunk and going ape shit! This was by the way Saturday the 1`st of April 1989 and it was the day that South Africa had its little 9 day war against SWAPO who attacked bases throughout the northern area of South West Africa.
I arrived back at 1 military hospital early Monday morning and was called into the quacks office. I was sure that i was in shit for not coming back Sunday evening like we were supposed to.( my father had dropped me off in person at the hospitals front door). After a few minutes i was told of the unfolding events and asked if i thought i was “fit” to be sent back to Rundu and continue with my duties? I thought about it for a millisecond and immediately said that i was definitely ready and most definitely not suicidal or out of control, i carried on to tell the shrink of our tradition and that i was merely fucking around when i swallowed the tablets. I was merely showing off and never thought for a moment of the consequences of my stupid actions and that i was very sorry for wasting valuable resources. The whole casevac thing and flight in a helicopter and all. He excused me and i was sent back to the ward. I was sure that i had blown my chance of being part of our little war and i was feeling very down. I was sitting in the nut house and was missing it all!
The Tuesday came and i was called back to the quacks office where he told me that i would be flying back to Rundu on the Thursday. I was elated and packed my things. I was discharged and allowed to go home with the understanding that i must be at 28Squadron moves at Waterkloof air force base Thursday morning the 6th. I was! I returned to Rundu as somewhat of a celebrity after my stay in the nut house so to speak, the register we kept of the malaria tablets issued weekly had a big bracket open next to my name which read “season ticket”, it was written in by the Commandant, our ops officer. The little war didn’t last too long but i did get to task choppers and other aircraft to ferry troops in and out of the operations area and handle casevacs for wounded troops. I was back and i loved it! The UNTAG troops were nowhere to be found, the Italians who were based at Rundu and were piloting the Hueys of the UN were firmly hidden away as were the Finns who were the supposed “security” detail. They stayed indoors! This allowed us to set about misleading the “UNTAG`ians “ wholesale and tasking aircraft as we pleased and giving them erroneous flight plans and pax lists. We were ordered to do this by our commanding officers and i obliged eagerly. We had an African high ranking observer who was festooned with medals and “balkies” that he looked somewhat like Idi Amin and boy did we bull shit this man and with very stern serious straight faces too.
The psychiatric ward was just another crazy part of my life and it was an education. The whole points system and “aerobics” side to it was odd to say the least. Watching a very serious career soldier like the 32 Bn sergeant major going hell for leather during the aerobics session was fucking strange. The colonel who was a reserved man and confused as all hell to boot also took these aerobic sessions with much gusto. I was not judged by the military and i received certificates of appreciation for my time spent in South West Africa and i was promoted to Lance Corporal in 1989 as well.

What a grand time National Service was. I miss that camaraderie.

Michael b Da Silva Lance Corporal 85639201BT

SOUTH AFRICA`s ROSWELL?

2011-09-06T17:15:00.000+02:00

THE GREAT CHASE

CRAZY TALK OF UFO`S AND BOGEYS

Back in 1989 i was stationed at air force base Waterkloof in Pretoria(FAWK). My job was as an ops clerk and it was my job to not only task squadron aircraft( prepare flight plans ) and pass them onto the air traffic controllers (ATC) but also to monitor all military aircraft in our sector and FAM( friendly air movement), basically civvy aircraft flying in our monitored air space. I also initiated SAR( search and rescue) and CASEVAC (casualty evacuations) procedures in the event of a military or civvy aircraft going missing in our area. We used signals and procedures called DETRESFA and so on to name the severity of the missing plane. We followed a list of acronyms ending with DETRESFA which basically meant wake up the bloodhounds and mobilise everyone in the “rollerdex”. If a DETRESFA was announced and signalled it meant that a plane was definitely embedded into the ground. My security clearance was a mere “restricted” level when i left air force college, however due to my personality type and keenness for the flag of the country i was on many occasion tasked with drafting “top secret” signals. This started in my time on the “border” in the then SOUTH WEST AFRICA ( now Namibia) where during the time of the UNTAG (united nations crowd) we were all getting busy pulling out of the country under the supervision of the UNTAG`ians. They were making sure we weren’t getting all belligerent and donning our war faces so to speak. I was given the express task of duplicating and altering flight plans to bamboozle our foreign friends. So i merrily tasked a Hercules c130 transport plane filled with 80 fully armed pax(passengers) for an apparent “team building “ exercise at the bush base called buffalo in Sector 20, the same sector as the base i was stationed at in Rundu(FARU). However the C130 Hercules headed in the opposite direction toward sector 10 and bypassed air force base Ondangwa (FAOA)and belched its cargo of parabats over the Angolan border passed a place called Ruacana. There they proceeded to get busy with whatever it is they had to do. However the board in the ops room showed the C130 safe at Buffalo and readying for its return journey to the Republic and home to 28 squadron at Waterkloof(FAWK). We did tell fibs from time to time but i felt justified as it was my duty and i was following orders.

I received various certificates that were not generally issued to national service men and i still have these and am very proud of them. I was also entrusted with the “destruction” of all paperwork from the ops room and destroy anything that was not bolted down. We were not going to leave anything for our foe to use when they moved into the vacated bases after our redeployment to the republic. My keenness to adhere to army / military rules made me the favoured “top secret” signal writer as they could depend on me for my willingness to do what i am told without being loose with sensitive info. I tasked many flights for the then person known as “spyker”(nail) a one Dr Jonas Savimbi and this carried on well into my time at air force base Waterkloof. The ops room was adjoined to the air traffic control tower and a departure area known as “vip moves” basically the departure area for general staff up to and including the state president, including the little bloodless “coup” that we had when De Klerk waltzed into power. I was at the vip moves one evening and was surprised to see some strange dude (De Klerk) getting off the stat prez`s (P W Botha) plane. ZSCAQ (zulu sierra Charlie alpha quebec), the other presidential bus was ZSCAS. DA50 Falcon`s of 21 squadron also based at Waterkloof.
So here i was now finished with my tour of duty on the border and getting busy with getting bored in Pretoria. The dreary day to day life of Waterkloof can be mind numbing. Planes coming , planes going, faxing, phoning for safe times, trekking out to the mess hall for shitty food and wondering when we will be re tasked and sent to a bush outing. May the 7th proved to be a very interesting day at the “office”. It was a Sunday an d i was on my 24 hour shift along with an ops officer( pilot or officer staff) that was on rotation to do duty at the ops room as officer on duty for the base. It was evening when the teletype machine began going ape and the phone started ringing. Immediately i assumed it was a DETRESFA coming through and got busy reading the signal. It was headed as ‘top secret” so i immediately called the ops officer who had zero idea how to read a signal. He was a pilot and didn’t really care for boring paper work. We were instructed to immediately ready flight plans for a pair of serviceable Mirage F1 CZ`s that were based at Waterkloof to be on standby for intercept of a “bogey” over the area around the northern cape area. We found this strange as Silvermine had already ordered air force base Ysterplaat (FAYP)to send two Mirage fighters up already and they are way closer than us. We then noted that air force base Hoedspruit (FAHS)and air force base Pietersburg(FAPB) were also ordered to launch Cheetah fighters. I was duly confused as to why so many air force bases were readying intercepts of what we surmised must be a Russian Mig entering our air space, there is no way the Mig could fly that fast and cover distances so vast requiring bases from all over South Africa to mobilise. I sent the signals to the squadron and prepped the flight plans regardless. Conflicting signals were coming in as the various radar and monitoring posts so to speak were giving new co ordinates that were simply impossible for any plane we ever encountered. The signals were confusing as “fog” set in and ops officers from HQ in Pretoria and Silvermine in the Cape were frantically trying to lasso this bogey. After a long and stressful time the fax machine, telephone and computer become very quiet. A signal was transmitted for outlying bases to stand down as the “bogey” was reported intercepted and shot down. We went back to sleep and forgot about it. Later on Monday i was called to attend the Colonel`s meeting. I was worried shitless that i had made a fuck of procedures or something and was in for an arse chewing. At the meeting in the Colonel`s office were the ops officer from Sunday , the base ops officer Major Wellman and a major from intelligence, he was army not air force. We were told to keep the events from the previous day quiet and basically not repeat the story to anyone else. We were told that a craft was destroyed and it was a matter of urgency that we do no speak of it to anyone off base. Naturally i agreed and was happy that i was not in the shit. all entries in the ops book (much like today`s security occurrence book) were removed . and day shift was told to basically mind their business. It obviously was not long before stories started popping up all over the place about a suspected UFO having been shot down and all kinds of fascinating shit found at the crash site. The Yanks were also sniffing around with much interest. The leak we were told was believed to come from an officer out at Silvernmine so i needn’t worry about being court marshalled for telling people that we had apparently shot ET down. So this was my big excitement and tiny part in what has become South Africa`s Roswell. Whatever happened out there, one thing is for sure. A whole pile of planes were scrambled and put on the flight line, there was a “bogey” in our air space and it was shot down, whether it be a Mig or UFO is all still speculation. It is just “odd” that so many far flung bases so far from each other were placed on standby that evening, then being told by officers to not relay the events to anyone.

So did we shoot down a UFO on may 7th 1989? That answer is somewhere in military intelligence`s files and paper work at the bottom of some filing cabinet at either army or air force HQ next to the obligatory bottle of brandy stuffed away at the back of the drawer. I believe it is entirely plausible that we did shoot down a UFO over the Kalahari that day. Only the smallest brained person on the planet still believes that we are the only beings in the universe. It was not possibly the best PR for South Africa as a whole for us to shoot ET down but it does send the message that we wont take rambunctious shenanigans from anyone , not even our inter planetary pals. Moral of the story? Post a flight plan and get your visa before racing around in controlled air space especially in a country at war.

Michael B Da Silva
Ex SAAF 85639201bt lance corporal national service 1988-1990. (camps 91 AFB Piestersburg . 92AFS(air force station) Nelspruit.
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
THE DA SILVA CODE

DISTANT RUMBLINGS OF WAR

2011-09-03T14:35:00.003+02:00

DISSENTION IN THE RANKS

For attention: President Jacob Zuma:

I would like to send this mail to the President of the Republic Of South Africa, Mr Jacob Zuma and raise a few concerns that i have and i am sure a whole lot of South Africans have.

The current debacle pertaining to the youth league leader Julius Malema is going to boil over into a nasty slinging match and will doubtless rock the foundations of the ANC in its entirety. He has already “mobilised” his forces and is not afraid of the ANC or its laws and regulations. He will bring further dissention and trauma to the ANC if he is not weeded out of the party and sent packing. The ANC is walking the political tight rope and will be toppled by an unstable hooligan with his eye firmly placed on the presidency. If he does topple the current government and undo all that the ANC has done in order to get into power after the apartheid regime,the country will dissolve into chaos and it wont be long before the “free world” are poking their heads into our country to get their hands on our natural resources.

The ANC i hope will cut Julius loose and let him run off and start his own party thus spreading the voter base even wider allowing the ANC to remain in power. Your government is far from perfect but rule under Julius Malema would be murder! He is a megalomaniacal unstable overgrown child. His rhetoric borders on outright treason and dissent to the point of declaring war on the ANC, the very party whose youth league he leads!!! . this is a definitive “push” for party presidency and ultimately the presidency of the Republic. There are millions of people who distrust Julius Malema and will not stand for a life under his rule ( i for one fall firmly into this category of people) . His ideals and methods are erratic and subversive to the point of illegality. We will degenerate into all out civil war if he is not duly “plonked’ in his place by the ruling party before he upsets the proverbial apple cart and leads us all into conflict. We can already see what we will be in for judging by his rabbles behaviour in the streets. His followers are easily roused to chaotic degrees of riotous behaviour and lawlessness like we see in the news daily from countries like Libya. Does the ANC want to leave a failed legacy like that on the global conscience? I personally don’t think so. Julius Malema is not an asset to the party and is a definite liability to the ANC and its members. None of the current ANC members`s positions will be kept or guaranteed by a Julius regime, that is a fact and i am very sure those in the ANC know that?
The ANC didn’t spend all these years fighting and dying to be overthrown by one of their own prodigal sons! The majority of South Africans black and especially white will definitely side with the ANC even if they are supporters of other parties to keep this mad man/ child out of power. For all we know , this may be the entire plan the ANC has for swaying votes from the opposition? Who knows?

For the love of our country. Please sort out your house and discipline a potential “CANE”. We all know what Cane did to Abel...
I am not an overtly political person and i do not “belong” to any party. I do vote and when the time comes i do so by merit. Please save our country Mr president, before he destroys life as we know it forever and leads us all down the slippery slope to civil war!

IN CONCLUSION: If i may be so bold and brazen as to address you as “Jacob” , please rectify this problem that is threatening to destabilise our country , region , lives, lifestyle and land and throw us into turmoil . I implore you from one man and former soldier to another.
A POLITICALLY YOURS; Michael B Da Silva (a concerned citizen)

michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com
michaelbdasilva@gmail.com
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
0789489847

:NOTE:

THE DA (DEMOCRATIC ALLIANCE) have mailed me back and confirmed receipt of the copy i sent them to keep it all fair and stuff.
NOW WE WAIT FOR THE ANC TO GIVE US A REPLY...

STIRRING THE CROCK POT

2011-08-20T13:48:00.004+02:00

THE CONSPIRACY COOKBOOK
Ala Carte or Al Fresco

Mental gymnastics at its best

Conspiracy theories have been around since the dawn of time right back to the time when the caveman carved out a wheel from stone. There was always going to be a detractor who let his seemingly oodles of free time allow his primitive brain cook up a theory that this device was the work of Neanderthal communists living in the village down the valley and that it was much more than a wheel , it was a weapon of mass transportation that was deigned expressly to create destabilisation and the prolonging of pain and draconian mindset keeping the caveman in abject poverty ! This mind set has survived intact for millennia and if that sounds ridiculous then read on and see first hand how conspiracies get whipped together by supposedly intelligent ,educated people with honour and prestige in positions of power! (that`s the theory anyway)

Enter the 21st century where the internet is teaming with conspiracy theorists and lunatic fringe “brainiacs” all surmising they have the correct take on world events and the players within the pot regardless of facts and court cases that have duly shut the books on the event in question or whether the event was proven or not. These modern day “sleuths” allow their imaginations to run riot and do cart wheels with their mouths uncontrollably spewing tripe. They also don’t seem to care who they implicate in their mental gymnastic tall stories. Whether these people are involved and whether any real effort was made to confirm and legitimately ensure that what they are writing is within the realm of reality and accurate. One cannot disembark on a diatribe accusing people of serious crimes without doing exhaustive investigations into that individual or group. Accusations of collusion in serious crimes is tantamount to endorsement, using your name as collateral. What you write better contain facts that can be corroborated if scrutinised by third parties. The truth however is that the truth is secondary to most of those that make wild accusations and there are multitudes of reality impaired people trawling the web. Every blogger has their pet project that they comment on and post what they believe in. Every blogger has followers and detractors. What is truly scary is that many mental gymnasts that litter their blogs with unsubstantiated waffle are educated people who although educated are not necessarily intelligent.

This brings me to the motivation for my post.

Recently i read a post on a blog i follow, written by a person who i have had the distinct honour to have worked for in Angola. The blog which i read with interest is titled http://eebenbarlowsmilitaryandsecurityblog.blogspot.com/ and is authored by Eeben Barlow. Eeben had just posted a piece about something that was written and reported about him. Herewith i will copy and paste the original piece that was written about Eeben by a person who i have difficulty not openly swearing at. He wrote overtly libellous comments that could have far reaching implications if taken further. One cannot simply accuse people still living of orchestrating terrorist atrocities without having empirical irrefutable hard evidence as opposed to circumstantial evidence which the author of the blog that attacked Eeben says he has. The author of the misguided blog is someone who touts themselves as a legal brain in England however the empirical irrefutable truth is that he was fired by the Prime Minister for wrong doings and maladministration. His name is Patrick Haseldine and i have circumstantial evidence and hear say that suggests that he wears ladies knickers (it is as i say circumstantial). Herewith the copy/paste from his site i mentioned.

“”LOCKERBIE: J'ACCUSE....EEBEN BARLOW

ACCUSATION

Eeben Barlow, commander of South Africa's Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB) Europe Branch, coordinated the Lockerbie bombing on 21 December 1988 by targeting UN Commissioner for Namibia, Bernt Carlsson, the most prominent of the 270 victims.

At Heathrow airport, CCB operatives had six hours in which to substitute the 'bomb bag' for Bernt Carlsson's checked-in suitcase, while Carlsson was attending a meeting in London with the De Beers diamond cartel. No trace of his suitcase was ever found following the Pan Am Flight 103 disaster.

BACKGROUND

Eeben Barlow joined the South African Defence Force in 1974 and became a commander of SADF's notorious 32 Battalion Reconnaissance Wing in Angola (see attached photo), where he 'assisted' the anti-government rebel movement Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA). Subsequently, Barlow was assigned to SADF's Directorate of Military Intelligence and then to General Magnus Malan's Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB) where he commanded Region 5, an area that encompassed Europe and the Middle East. Barlow was based in London in the 1980s and it was his job to disseminate disinformation about the ANC. One can speculate on what other activities Barlow and South African "superspy" Craig Williamson got up to whilst stationed in Europe including their involvement in the assassinations of Sweden's Prime Minister, Olof Palme, in February 1986 and ANC representative in France, Dulcie September, in March 1988. The CCB was definitely involved in assassinations elsewhere, including that of Anton Lubowski, a leading member of Namibia's SWAPO (South West African Peoples' Organisation) in 1989. The manufacture and distribution of drugs, involvement with the so-called Third Force, utilised to destabilise South Africa during the pre-1994 election period. Dr Wouter Basson (so-called Dr Death) was also part of the CCB operation and behind a CBW programme code-named Project Coast.

The activities of Executive Outcomes (formed by Barlow in 1989 when the CCB was disbanded), the clients it served, and the global transnational corporate elite that included the De Beers diamond cartel, Texaco and Gulf-Chevron reveals the role of mercenary groups, especially in Africa. Much of EO's income came from 'doing deals', that is, getting lucrative mining concessions as payment for providing protection or overthrowing governments that 'got in the way' of doing business such as those conducted in Sierra Leone, Angola and DR Congo. And here the connections between EO and companies such as Diamondworks, becomes important, for the close association between EO and the diamond and gold concessions reveals that EO not only got paid cash for supplying mercenary forces but also obtained lucrative mining concessions as well. Executive Outcomes subsequently morphed into Sandline International and ended up as the private military contractor Aegis Defence Services.””

This inflammatory post was brought to Eebens attention by a third party who happened upon it. The correct method would have been for patrick to at least attempt to contact Eeben and interact before hand ensuring fairness and disclosure. Instead patrick steam rolled ahead and slandered Eebens name without an iota of a thought to professionalism and or restraint or whether what he was writing and its source Robert Black had any facts based in reality. Today`s world is a funny place and when the word terrorism, bombing, assassination pop up in posts, little red flags start waving all over the place. It would have been the manly righteous thing to do to at least have contacted the person you are about to defame.
Eeben Barlow has a very colourful history which is easily googled and this naturally opens him to all manner of conspiracy theorists wet dreams. He was involved in the intelligence apparatus of the Old South Africa as it were and was associated with the CCB. This is on his blog and is described in detail in Eeben`s book. He has history, and unfortunately this feeds into the lame brains out there who are out to scribble down nonsensical horse shit about people who must have annoyed them somewhere in life.( be it professionally or personally) i could only surmise as to what Eeben has done to irk patrick so much, perhaps it is the fact that Eeben ran a supremely professional company that turned around 30 years of civil war and stopped the advance of misery? Maybe it was because patrick secretly envies a true operator and is unhappy in his own life and with his own shortcomings as a man and politician? Hell i don`t know its all just conjecture but because i am writing it , hey it must be so! That is precisely what patrick has done!! I sit here and for some strange unbeknownst reason the name walter mitty keeps popping to mind when typing the name patrick haseldine but i digress.
I have posted a comment on patrick`s blog that reads (once again i copy/paste directly
“”michael b said...
INCREDULOUS! where did you get your intel from? prey tell? hells teeth, that is some fancy mental gymnastics you tout about Eeben Barlow. next you will blame him for the biblical plagues, world war two, 9/11 and the crucifixion. you are obviously an educated man but education does not necessary mean intelligent. you need more than circumstantial evidence to support a theory before publishing possibly libellous comments. you of all people should know this. what gives? did you have a brain fart? i am an ex Executive Outcomes employee and i am not some pseudo assassin of the old apartheid state or of Eeben Barlow. check your factoids before spewing garbage.
michael b da silva “”
19 AUGUST, 2011
FOLLOWED BY,
“”michael b said...
patrick, the reason Eeben has "refused" to comment to your second comment is that he has stated on his blog that he has zero wish nor need to contact you anymore relating to your wild accusations and has marked you as spam. oh and the spam he has tagged you as is not the corned beef variety you find in a can. i agree fully with Eeben! if you bothered to go and look at his blog you would have noted that before making redundant comments. to your original accusations i say BWAHAHAHAHA! brilliant, now i know who to blame for the fact that the tooth fairy did not bring me money for my tooth that i put under my pillow. Eeben obviously had him whacked!

This is a very serious allegation that has been levelled at Eeben Barlow by Patrick Haseldine and his erstwhile chum, Robert Black http://www.blogger.com/profile/03606456028430261555
ANOTHER REPUTABLE BLOG SITE AUTHOR POSTED THE FOLLOWING FOOD FOR THOUGHT ON EEBENS BLOG
“”Feral Jundi said...
Good on you for catching this and calling it out. Guys like Patrick remind me of the 9/11 truthers who invent lies to support their conspiracy theories.

What really kills me about this is that Libya has confessed to the Pan Am 103 bombing, agreed to pay compensation to the victims, and the suitcase that had the explosives was identified as being owned by Abdelbaset al-Megrahi. And of course this Libyan terrorist was convicted in a court of a law as being the bomber.

Libya even uses Lockerbie now as a way of thumbing it's nose at the west, and especially when Scotland freed al-Megrahi due to so-called 'health reasons'. pffft. And look at the guy now? He is paraded around as a hero by Ghaddafi.

So Patrick is making up stuff. But what gets me about dudes like this is that they know how to use new media to spread their lies. He is all over the place on Facebook and elsewhere, and it is quite pathetic.
August 19, 2011 9:23 PM

I would half expect Patrick to at least make contact directly with Eeben as a professional courtesy to explain his sources and proof but i doubt whether Patrick is man enough to do so. He will sit there and pontificate from behind his computer dreaming up other implausible lies about Eeben and whoever else and not bothering with that little thing called “the truth”. Eeben has in his blog stated that he will simply laugh this one off too, Eeben has been the target of numerous disinformation and misrepresentation attempts from everyone from the UN to the New York Times to Patrick Haseldine. Eeben must be a supremely patient man. I intend to send Patrick recipe`s for hallucinogenic muffins and cannabis shortbread cookies as i think that Patrick may have indulged in a tad too much LSD in the 60`s (that is my opinion and i have absolutely no proof. But i will state it as a truth because i say so! It is very much in the same vein as what Patrick and Robert Black has done with allegations levelled at Eeben)

Patrick you should start a cookbook seeing as you are so adept at cooking up stories. You could title it “THE CONSPIRACY COOKBOOK” cooking it up with Patrick Haseldine (Ala Carte or Al Fresco) with guest chef Robert Black author of his cook book “stirring the crock pot”

Patrick Haseldine and Robert Black all i have left to say is .... sis on you!
Michael B Da Silva

NOTE:: as of august 25th Robert Black posted a recant on his blog page effectively saying that Patrick Haseldine has no proof of Eeben Barlow being involved in the Lockerbie disaster and bombing of Pan Am 103. herewith a copy/paste of that statement from his blog page

..."" Because Patrick Haseldine does not have any evidence. This correspondence is now closed. All further contributions will be deleted.""

BIBLOS

2011-08-12T15:33:00.000+02:00

Little book of horrors
BIBLICAL HORROR STORIES!

What the hell are we subjecting our kids to?
Stories of adultery, murder, collusion, torture, deceit, hatred, war mongering, brutality, sacrifice, misogynists , angels of death and oodles more.

The other evening my 8 year old son asked me to read him a story from his “my first bible”, i sat there and thought “cool” its a kiddies bible and should be suitably sensitive for young kids. Boy was i wrong! This book of horrors propagates hatred and murder! The cutesy pictures don’t hide the blatant hate these stories really tell.
We must however start at the beginning, my son is a mild mannered individual who sits and really contemplates these bible stories. They work on his mind and cause him all manner of distress. The cruelty bugs him quite a bit. We start with a fun story of Cain and Abel, in this story Cain bludgeons his brother Abel to death with a rock because god supposedly rejects his offering of vegetables. It must be noted that Cain was a farmer and so naturally an offering of his produce to god should be expected as this is the produce of his land which he lovingly offers to his god, However god seems to be portrayed as a fussy snob and only finds favour with Abel`s blood offering of a goat. Abel as we know was a shepherd so an animal sacrifice is i suppose expected. Personally i find the practice of slaughtering an animal to god ludicrous and an archaic dilly cruel and totally worthless practice. Surely god doesn’t need blood? Is our god really that blood lusting? Apparently he is according to the bible. My 8 year old son is now wrestling with this whole sacrifice/ murder story. What if he cannot offer god an animal? My son detests cruelty to animals. Now what? He cant offer veggies as god will not like it and dismiss him out of hand! Oh hell what now? ???? Cain was a bad guy in the big picture i suppose and one can almost understand his annoyance that his hard toiled offering was rejected by a condescending god and his “oh so special” brother, the one everyone loves , gets all the praise, and almighty high fives for butchering a goat. For all we know Cain was probably a vegetarian pacifist driven by his arrogant snot nosed brother to murderous intent. I frikkin dislike snooty higher than thou types who always seem to be “teachers pet”. Now how do i explain this to my son, what do i say and how do i sugar coat murder obviously brought on by a fussy god who simply didn’t like Cain`s offering because it didn’t involve brutality and blood letting. This is the tone the bible starts out with. Just beautiful. You will also note that the bible does not come with any warnings on the cover or age restrictions, you know like we see on Marilyn Manson album covers: PARENTAL ADVISORY WARNING EXPLICIT CONTENT: or the letters V S P L N. denoting VIOLENCE, SEX, PREJUDICE, LANGUAGE & NUDITY. The bible is chock a block with all of these.

Shall we explore the next story of horrendous parenting portrayed in the little black book of horrors that is touted as a fabulous show of unwavering faith. This story had my son thinking overtime.. Abraham and his son out one fine day and Abraham suddenly decides to tie his son to an altar and yank out a huge flipping knife, chant some or other mumbo jumbo and gets ready to kill his son for god. I can only surmise that Abraham was high on acid or his schizophrenia was kicking in wholesale. The “voices” were telling him that god basically dared him to kill his son as a sign of faith. What a load of horse shit! That isn’t showing faith that is just plain barmy! Fast forward 2000 years utilising Marty McFly`s 1.21.jiggawatt flux capacitor powered De Lorean time travelling machine and try the same thing in down town Los Angeles or London or wherever , and you will have social services and a SWAT team breathing down your neck. The police are likely to shoot you in the head in order to save the by now traumatised and forever emotionally scarred child. Did Abraham for one moment think of the fear his son must have been experiencing, the emotional trauma and the fact that his son would probably never look at him in the same way ever again? You go and tell people that “god told you to kill your child” to prove your dedication and faith and you will find yourself locked up in a rubber room or 8x8 prison cell enjoying the intimate company of “Bubba”. However, it seems that within the Christian cult it was accepted and Abraham was a revered wise man. God in my mind is portrayed here as a college dude that suddenly jumps out and shouts “psyche”. How sick is this story and to put it in a child`s bible worries me as it worries my son. He asked me if i would do that? I retorted that my god wouldn’t ask me to do something so stupid or dangerous! My god is wise, kind and very clever.

King David fills the censor list with sex, nudity , violence and bad footloose dancing skills. Firstly as a young man he not only defeats goliath a huge frikkin philistine but then shows his murderous madman side by hacking the giants heads off . we thought that we had problems with teenagers violent outbursts today however the biblical teens were apparently just as unstable. this is indicative of a very sick youngster and we cannot even blame it on gangster rap music or heavy metal. Later he does some singing and dancing and makes a total mockery of the ark of the covenant by jigging in front of it like a moron. Later still he shows his voyeuristic/ peeping tom side by spying on the wife of a soldier in his army taking a sexy bath. He embarks on an adulterous relationship with some skanky Ho named Bathsheba, David even sends her unwitting husband to the front in battle knowing he will buy the farm and thereby neutralise his opposition. Later on David`s son turns against him and is killed by on of David`s generals while he is dangling from a branch by his long locks ( the reason i suspect modern soldiers have short cut hair do`s). Upon finding out about his son`s demise David is apparently overcome by guilt and grief, to this i say you get what you sow you sorry lout! He couldn’t keep his pecker wood zipped and this led him to this misery. King David was at best a mediocre king and not the great exalted one the Christians punt him to be. He was a horny murderous twat.

The crucifixion of Christ is probably my most disliked story of torture, xenophobia, misogynistic brutality in the whole book. The Christians are seemingly blood thirsty deranged Nazi`s. .. They “celebrate” good Friday which by all intense purposes wasn’t that flipping good for jesus. He spent the previous evening being betrayed by his pals and given to the romans in some or other garden, the way his luck was running, he probably got stiffed with the bill at the last supper as well !! He spends the morning being casually whipped repeatedly by his captors, beaten, mocked, spat on and forced to carry his own torture device up a hill to the place where he is then lashed to the cross, nailed and hoisted in the bleeding hot sun. To add insult to injury he is further poked in his side made to wear a thorny crown and left in his underwear. His followers all derided Mary Magdalene who was obviously more than just a groupie to jesus. The apostles call her whore to her face, this is obviously because they(the apostles) were jealous of jesus`s relationship with her. The Christians all side with the women hating apostles on this one too. It doesn’t fit into the Christian dogma that jesus may have gotten “jiggy with it”. He however is touted as being born a man. Men have urges and needs and that makes us men and human beings. His troupe of “village people” aka the apostles i fear may have been a tad light in their sandals if you get my drift. The Christians then walk into church and wear a likeness of the torture device around their necks and kneel and pray to the humungous bleeding crucified jesus adorning the wall. What a horror! Its sick! If the Christians are so keen on having a jesus hanging from the wall at least make it a lesser violent pose. I thought it was in the “good book” that we are not allowed to bow to or pray to any graven images made in the likeness of anything in heaven etc etc etc. Why don’t we all just go around wearing little “electric chairs” around our necks??

These are but a few of the horror stories that promote and propagate hate and xenophobia in the little black book. I cannot with a clear conscience read any further bible stories to my child, i want him to be able to sleep at night. If i must read scary stories to my son i will hence forth read him Stephen King novels! The bible is an outdated manuscript filled with stories of gore, corruption, nepotism, adultery and a very vindictive god who sends his assassin “the angel of death” to murder innocent children in Egypt! The barbarism is endless in this sordid graphic novel.

Save our kids, don’t send them to cult camps on Sundays otherwise known as Sunday school. It is bad enough they are force fed this tripe at school on a daily basis. The part that annoys me the most is that the Christians have the gall to look down on the muslims by saying that islamists are extremist in their writings but never for one moment bother to look at the hate their very own Christian writing is perpetuating. My poor son is being bombarded by these ramblings of cain killing abel ,the angel of death killing the first born and so on and so on. Whenever it rains heavily my son frets terribly about the world being flooded by god because people are wicked and he is punishing us. So the way i see it, god is the Punisher! Not in my religion, not in my views he aint but then again i don’t have straight forward dogmatic views. I would like my son to be free of fear in any form for whatever religion he one day follows . I just hope he doesn’t follow the clowns at the primary school we had him in this year. They have a wonderful compound/campus and are an offshoot of the failed doomsday cult called the Millerites of the 1840`s. The school he was in was a seventh day Adventist run school and man are they “ punchers” of note, we were not their favourite family as we don’t conform to their over the top Christian views and did not belong to their congregation and don’t go to their church, so they started their propaganda indoctrination campaign on my son . Here around easter time they showed the grade 1 and 2`s what they said was the “kiddies version of the crucifixion”, what the hell?! How do you make torture, and crucifying kid friendly pray tell? What, was goofy playing jesus and Pontius Pilate portrayed by Elmer Fudd?.. Hey if i want to join a crazy cult i will do so just don’t expect me to because my kid is in a school which is semi government so they cant be all selectively exclusive. Sis man, that is really crappy and not the type of thing we teach our children at such a young and impressionable age. I studied Biblical Studies at school in my last three years as a main subject so i learned all the ins and outs of this book. What it taught me was to think and formulate my own views free of dogma. I definitely did not want to run off and do missionary work or become a priest i just wanted to learn a bit about a confusing collection of short stories and it just so happened that our Biblical Studies teacher was a siren, man she was a spanker with legs going all the way up. Mmmm Mrs Ferguson was a good teacher indeed. My son`s name is Kyle Reece and yes he was named after the character from the Terminator movies that fathered John Connor with Sarah Connor who goes onto leading the rebellion against skynet, my son loves the Terminator films and when asked what he will one day name his son, he replies “John Connor”. I would rather have my son watching The Terminator than anything from the bible, The Terminator is less violent and ultimately more believable.
So in conclusion::

Stop feeding our kids stories of horrid things and wrapping them up as all sweet, honest to goodness religious teachings.
Murder is murder no matter how you slice it.
Michael b da silva

COWABUNGA

2011-08-10T19:53:00.001+02:00

COWSCHWITZ
Weidland macht frei
Grazing will set you free

A story of an abattoir. One cows journey.

this is a story of Daisy, a cow and her journey along the path of life.

Cows have for eons been domesticated and kept as assets to farmers both subsistence and commercial. We have fed our young from the udder and feasted on the flesh of our bovine “pets”. We have even given them names and when time was right and the price just right we sell them to large abattoirs for financial gain. We don’t spare a moments thought for the cow and the life the cow is leading quite happily getting its graze on in the pasture.

here is where the fuzzy flashback starts with the sweet music melodiously playing in the background.

It was 1939 and life was swell for Daisy cow, life was a breeze and all seemed normal. That was till one day when the men came and separated her from the herd and loaded her into a cattle car and transported her for what seemed an eternity loaded in like, , well cows. The trip was tedious and hot as hell in the cattle car, every cow seemed to be farting and belching incessantly and the honk was tremendous and overbearing. Some cows started panicking and seemed to go mad. At long last the train shuddered to a halt and the cattle cars doors swung open allowing the sun to blindingly glare in. The fear and expectancy was palatable, the cows trundled out all confused and lost, the fear glinting in their big brown eyes. The men callously herded the cows like they were merely a herd of cattle and once again the cows were separated from their young and males from females. The cows were herded into a row of barriers toward what they were told was a “dip” tank for delousing and de ticking, Daisy loudly protested “what the hell do these men think, we aren’t dirty, we`re COWS”!!! The cows were now slowly lined up and led into a building , there was a strange odour in the air and the smell of fear hung like a mist. As they trundled forward they saw the fear in the cows eyes along side them and then the reality exploded onto them! When they saw the first bolt shoot into the lead cows head and it dropped moaning and writhing , Daisy suddenly bellowed “ OH FUCK WE`RE IN COWSCHWITZ”!!!

A slaughterhouse or abattoir is a facility where animals are killed for consumption as food products.
Approximately 45-50% of the animal can be turned into edible products (meat). About 15% is waste, and the remaining 40-45% of the animal is turned into byproducts such as leather, soaps, candles (tallow), and adhesives.[citation needed] In the United States, around nine billion animals are slaughtered every year[citation needed] (this includes about 150.4 million cattle, bison, sheep, hogs, and goats and 8.9 billion chickens, turkeys, and ducks) in 5,700 slaughterhouses and processing plants employing 527,000 workers;[citation needed] in 2009, 26.9 billion pounds of beef were consumed in the U.S. alone.[1] In Canada, 650 million animals are killed annually.[2] In the European Union, the annual figure is 300 million cattle, sheep, and pigs, and four billion chickens.[citation needed]
Slaughterhouses which process meat unfit for human consumption are sometimes referred to as Knacker's yards or Knackeries.
Slaughtering animals on a large scale poses significant logistical problems and public health concerns[citation needed], with public aversion to meat packing in many cultures influencing the location of slaughterhouses. In addition, some religions stipulate certain conditions for the slaughter of animals so that practices within slaughterhouses vary.
There has been criticism of the methods of preparation, herding, and killing within some slaughterhouses, and in particular of the speed with which the slaughter is sometimes conducted. Investigations by animal welfare and animal rights groups have indicated that a proportion of these animals are being skinned or gutted while apparently still alive and conscious. Many of these supposed cases are misinterpretations of post-mortem death twitching as shown by researchers. There has also been criticism of the methods of transport of the animals, who are driven for hundreds of miles to slaughterhouses in conditions that often result in crush injuries and death en route.[3] Slaughtering animals is opposed by animal rights groups on ethical grounds.

We as humans are the higher race on the planet and we consume the lower animals, however we need to treat our food with a tad more respect and think where our meat comes from. As we endeavour to treat our fellow man with respect we need to do so equally with our four legged friends. I seriously dig a good piece of steak or rack of ribs so i aint going to get all vegan now, hell no! I dig my meat way too much, we just need to start thinking about where it comes from and how the animals were treated and culled. We aren’t Nazi`s and we aren’t working at Treblinka, we must show equal amounts of compassion and respect for our fellow man and our animals which are supplying us with sustenance and clothing, soap etc. I may have taken a round trip here describing the journey the cow takes from farm to plate via the bovine death camps we call abattoirs but we as the supposed higher being on the planet are lacking in the overall social morals department be it toward animals or our fellow man. The amount of needless stress we place on the animals being transported to the abattoir is not needed and neither is the callous way animals are treated in general at the abattoirs. the endorphins released which contain Beta endorphins and cortisol taint the meat and darken it making it a lower grade meat overall.
Let Daisy cows journey be a stress free one as opposed to the “saw “style horror parade it currently is.,,, now where`s my Texan steak at?
Michael B Da Silva

INFIDELS 101

2011-08-07T18:31:00.001+02:00

INFIDELIO
.THE WAR ON TERROR .
Ever since the 12th of September 2001( the day after) ,our world changed dramatically and a whole new slew of catch phrases have sprung up in its wake. Phrases like ‘war on terror’ have appeared on nearly every evening news since 9/11. The attacks of that day were barbaric but amazingly brazen and almost beyond belief. The fact that attacks of such planning and scope could be planned and executed from within America still boggles the mind today. These men trained in America and learned to fly at American flight schools. Nobody seemed any the wiser and the collective American intelligence community were apparently “out to lunch” and never seemed to care or were phased by these Arab nationals suddenly all finding the interest in learning to fly. No red flags , no agents knocking at the door to ask questions, nothing. It seems that only blissful ignorance was actively being utilised by the intelligence apparatus. It is worth noting that until 9/11 there were many attacks on U S soil and one in the very buildings targeted on 9/11. That attack was masterminded by the Arab version of Stevie wonder and he seems to have shown more “vision” than the collective intelligence community, apparently they the intelligence community were blind to the plotting and goings on in their very own neighbourhood . these types of failures are on the increase in America due to what i believe is inter department cock swinging and fundamental flaws in inter department “connectivity”, this is one department has differing standard operating procedures from another and they are basically not compatible nor are they “friendly”. One unit or department seems to feel they are better than the next and while this cock fight goes on the insurgents freely stroll into place and launch attacks while the apparatus are busy squabbling with one another over jurisdiction and dick size.
The 9/11 attacks shocked the world and changed the landscape from then on in. Terrorists were pursued and eradicated from the face of the earth with almost “biblical vengeance” , every weapon in the arsenal has been rolled out and used on goat herding camel jockeys in the hills of Afghanistan and the streets of Iraq, all weapons that is other than the big “N”. Nuclear is a last grasp tool. The middle east today is in the middle of the next great crusade and this one is going to get bloody. It boggles the mind that such a small part of area covering the earth can be responsible for so much trouble and that two religions can get so bent out of shape with each other over what is basically the same beliefs? Islam/ Christianity share many similarities and teach many of the same values. One group simply have a dude called Jesus and the other have Mohammed. The values and heresies each religion has is identical in the other. The Muslim extremists simply use the words they want and twist the words to fit their individual hatred, much like what we see with freaks within the Christian sect who are famous for starting cults and always end up with a shit load of dead followers through suicide and or police intervention. These cults are no different to radical purveyors of Islam! They claim to be purists and gods lambs and mouth pieces , they disembark on all manner of illegal anti social behaviour that includes the breaking of many long established laws and teachings within their very own scriptures. It is with this poisoned mind that the leaders of these groups set to work on their very gullible and weak minded lemming followers.
Islam is famous for its suicide bomber tactics and the reported number of virgins awaiting said walking detonation devices. You have to be seriously frikkin stupid to believe in something so obviously ridiculous and personally harmful! This is why the west then feel obliged to send drones and cruise missiles to weed the world of these unstable mad men. I fully support this practise and i love seeing the missile nose cam footage as it speedily approaches some dissidents house, my only wish is that the military would spend a few more bucks on the quality of the camera they use so we could get a really clear picture of the dissident`s facial expression just before he is blown to smithereens. You know the facial expression i allude to? The “what the fuck dude” look. Priceless! As it is the missiles cost about a million a pop so spending another ten grand aint gonna bust the bank if you get my drift. Besides the footage would draw at least a billion views on you tube and would most likely take first prize on America`s funniest home videos.

The attack in some slum area of Pakistan where uncle bin laden met his end was a high coup for the Americans and it was a medal pinned on for the seal team that clubbed him. The seal that squeezed the shot off that struck bin laden in the eye is without a doubt a hero within the special forces community and it is a shame he will likely never be honoured openly . he would very quickly shorten his life expectancy if he was publically announced, a zillion radical Islamic fruit loops would all go on the biggest bounty hunt the world has yet seen. Lets just hope that the seal in question was not one of the special forces soldiers killed in the helicopter crash in Afghanistan a few days ago. That would be all kinds of wrong! The Al Qaeda network will no doubt use this unfortunate helo crash as a powerful propaganda tool against America and say that it was Allah`s hand that did smite the helicopter and all its Infidels that were aboard. Something to that effect i suspect. This helo crash could not have come at a worse time. The fact that it involved elements of the special forces directly or indirectly involved in killing osama bang bang bin laden is very unfortunate in that it opens a whole new can of worms for the Al Qaeda nuts to explore and extort. What the yanks need to do now is strike at the Al Qaeda network quickly and without provocation and deal them a big bloody nose before they start the disinformation rumour mill. Expect the liberals in America to come out and voice their collective stupidity on every social platform available saying things like what you sow shall you reap etc. Ignore these socially blind idiots who live very comfortably within the bosom of the United States being protected by brave service men and women dying so they can spread ignorance and social slander. If you encounter one of these idiots, i suggest a swift head butt and casually walk away.

Terrorism must be rooted out and the only way is via military means. Kill `em all, let their gods sort `em out!.
In conclusion: there are no and nor have there ever been any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq or Afghanistan ! CHUCK NORRIS LIVES IN IDAHO.
Michael B Da Silva.

RECIPE OF THE WEEK

2011-08-04T13:32:00.001+02:00

:RECIPE OF THE WEEK:
POACHED EXTREMISTS IN A COURAGEOUS CONSTRAINT SAUCE
KILLING IN THE NAME OF RELIGION AND APHRODISIA
OR
HOW OUR QUEST FOR POLITICAL CORRECTNESS AND SANCTIMONIUS SELF SERVING IS RUINING SOCIETY FOR EVERYONE , PUTTING LIVES ON THE LINE IN THE INTEREST OF POLITICS AND KILLING OUR NATURAL RESOURCES WHILE WE SIT BY AND IDLY WATCH DERANGED PEOPLE MURDER THEIR WAY THROUGH LIFE, SMILING AS THEY GO!

Anders Behring Breivik is a name that has become synonymous with extremism and murder. His shooting spree that followed the fertiliser bomb in Norway recently which is considered by the world as a safe level headed place to be and dull as all hell was turned into a little shop of horrors! Anders managed to miraculously live under the Norwegian security apparatus`s radar for his entire adult life even though he tipped the scales of many countries intelligence services with his open rhetoric which he posted willy nilly on the internet as his “dear diary” manifesto. Anders plagiarised the unabombers half baked lame duck excuse of a manifesto and then added his own blend of dreary boring life stories to it. It reads like a disorganised version of an equally disorganised manifesto written by a small man with inadequacy issues in the nineteen thirties while he languished in jail. Anders basically turned his manifesto into a misogynistic accusation at his mother for giving him a throat infection (really). This is all for real and is now part of a very unfortunate history. His writings were child like and bordered on the stupid! His online “diary” postings were by and large very detailed even describing his attempts and failures with making his device. It is amazing how the Norwegian intelligence community missed this mad mans postings! They were caught napping at best and were possibly collectively out buying donuts that fateful morning. Anders assimilated himself as a soldier, crusader on a mission from whoever his God is. His pictures online of him posing in his Masonic gear is very unfortunate for the Free Masons as he was “on the books” with the Norwegian lodge. His actions prompted the Masons to release a statement obviously distancing themselves from his callous murderous deeds. A good friend of mine and Mason forwarded me the statement and it is blatantly clear that Anders acted not only out of the realm and practices of the Masons but also proved that he was nothing more than a “tourist” within the order. It is a well known fact that the far right wing such as Anders is are not big pals with the Masonic order. He is a very confused puppy. He was not a card carrying member of the Norwegian neo nazi faction but had made his sentiments clear by vocally supporting them. This is akin to a white supremacist finding Martin Luther King Jnr`s “I have a dream speech” moving and leaving a lump in his throat, his swastika tattooed arm covered in goose bumps and a tear of admiration in his blue Aryan eye. Not FRIKKIN likely!

Anders is a murderer and in no ways is he a soldier! His picture posing in a uniform is a disgrace as he adorns himself with all manner of medals and ribbons. He looks like the white version of Idi Amin! I know without the need of confirmation that this wanna be didn’t serve in any real army. He wishes in his wettest dream that he was a soldier and a knight templar. If he belongs to a group or “cell” that he alluded to and these attacks were “military” then he was the worlds second biggest “patsy” next to Lee Harvey Oswald. They (the cell) would have chosen him for his idealistic stupidity and gullibility and they know that he isn’t about to spill the bean on his comrades as they have effectively brain washed him into believing he is soldier on a mission as opposed to a lunatic on a shooting spree murdering innocent civilians in a country renowned for its human rights and peaceful demeanour . His request to appear in a uniform at his hearing strengthens his illusions that he is a soldier and that his mission is sanctioned. The other ridiculous photo of himself was of him donning a wet suit ala “spetsnaz” posing with his assault rifle which i suspect is an M14 with all manner of Rambo attachments. We watched the pictures of him being transported in a police vehicle to court wearing a contented smile/ smirk on his face showing that he has no real comprehension of the severity of his actions on civilians. What grabbed me as ironic is the fact that the police made sure he was wearing his seat belt! Safety first i suppose? Hell, i would have strung him to the bonnet and taken a detour through the bushes. “oops we didn’t see that thorny bush”.

Anders posted many “red flag” comments that should have gotten the Norwegian cops ears ringing but alas he slipped right through their nets. This isn’t just a Norwegian slip up though. The American intelligence services also seemed to have been caught at the donut shop when it came to Columbine school massacre. Klebold and his accomplice had posted many hard core statements online prior to the attacks and had made videos detailing hate speech. Waco Texas, Ruby Ridge, Heavens Gate cult, Jones town , the first bombing of the World Trade Centre, the 9/11 attacks and even Timothy McVeigh and Oklahoma were all on the records and radar prior to the attacks and untimely deaths of civilians and members. Anders is a sad excuse of a man and it is disgraceful that he will only get 22 years for his crimes. The Norwegian legal system is very lenient it seems and add to that the fact that he will most likely be found criminally insane and interred in an asylum will just make him a hero / martyr to the plethora of stupid hard core right wingers in Norway and across the world. “fan sites” have already sprung up all over facebook and the comments there are nothing short of war mongering xenophobic attacks. What amazes me is the fact that the idiots posting the rhetoric aren’t worried or are seemingly aware that their profile pictures are visible for the whole world to see and it costs the police nothing to track and flag these dim bulbs as possible threats. What you post on facebook or any other social networking site is open to a degree for general public consumption and interception by security services under very far reaching modern anti terrorism laws. In other words, some dim witted right winger sits there in his moms basement posting stupidity and inflammatory hatred on the forum and then suddenly looks all “surprised” when balaclava clad tactical cops kick down the door and arrest him on charges of propagating hate speech and terrorism. Facebook is an American based company and they will bend under pressure to divulge complete information on the user despite the “users security and privacy settings”. No one wants to be the enemy of the state within their own state. It wouldn’t surprise me if “sleepers” are already “joining” right wing online groups and observing traffic and comments/ sentiments within the group to see if they are actively pro some or other radical stuff. It makes sense as this type of snooping literally only costs cents. It makes sense/cents for the security apparatus to follow groups in this way. When you have a group on facebook and someone wants to join you happily oblige just so you can see the “member” list or “likes” grow. It has become a part of our vocabulary to say “i got 426 friends”, or” i have 913 likes” or” we have 1875 members”. We just want to feel cool and want to feel wanted. Even terrorists have facebook accounts and profiles! The serial killer next door has one too! Even this sad twat Anders had “friends” on facebook but i am very sure a lot of them hit the unfriend button when his name hit the papers.

Anders feels justified in his mind that what he did was a mission and that he was teaching the Norwegian people a lesson that if the policies stayed as they are in Norway that the Muslim horde would bring tyranny to Oslo! So Anders and his ”cell” formulated this grand scheme to show the Norwegian people what it will be like to live under Muslim rule if they were allowed to immigrate into Norway. Anders showed his point by blowing up 7 people in the city and then going out dressed as a cop and executing 70+ teens at a camp. This idea he definitely got from the Jamie Foxx Hollywood flick called The Kingdom. It is a clear cut case of “copy and paste”. The idiot isn’t even original.!!! Sad part is that there are tons of people out there that support his thinking and many of them are resident in Norway and are just to keen to blurt their ignorant hate speech online in very public forums with their profile picture accompanying their idiotic badly spelled rants. Some even have totally open profiles, so you can “trawl” through their online lives and see just how dumb they really are. Online anti Anders pages also sprang up in the wake of the killings and the anti and pro factions did verbal battle with each other daily. Eventually i tired of the inanity of the pro Anders arse holes and left a post to the anti Anders crowd to simply report the offending tits posts as offensive and they will be removed as hate speech. I retreated and left the group to enjoy the company of another group where we speak of things and stuff and don’t take ourselves too seriously. This is where the second part of this piece was born.

Poaching in South Africa is an enormous problem that demands immediate attention before the only animals we have left are on reruns of National Geographic television programs narrated by stuffy British types.
The senseless slaughter of wild life is reaching mind boggling levels and is quite literally costing us our heritage. We need to all stand together and do whatever we can to halt this wasteful practice. Be it donating cash to the various groups who have to employ anti poaching agents or volunteering time in the fight to stop the murder of already threatened animals. The anti poachers are a breed apart and take what they do very seriously and i have the greatest admiration for their dedication seeing that they are paid very low wages for a very dangerous job. This low wage can also in extreme cases lead to collusion between unscrupulous business men and under paid anti poaching agents, especially the indigenous population who will actively hunt down poachers today and then be offered three times their salaries to kill an animal for the poachers in a “safe” area. They don’t fully understand the implications of when the animals are extinct they are gone for good and we will only then see them in books and on television. To these low earners it is more important to put food on the table at home than worry about some smelly animal. Look at Africa in general and you will see that the first thing to suffer in countries at war or don’t actively prosecute poachers or police and protect their resources are the wild life. Animals all but disappear from regions. Be it rhino, elephant, sable, gorilla`s or what have you. The ivory and rhino horn trade are barbaric and must be stopped at all costs.

We look at the Asiatic nations with respect as they are an ancient and wise culture that have given us much in the line of wisdom and culture, however they also show us that they are pretty dumb as well when it comes to obscure beliefs that the horn of a rhino can give you super Mario penis power. Think about this for a moment and you will see that the horn of a rhino is nothing more than finger nails. It is made from the very same stuff as the nails and chewing toe nails wont give you an erection bar none! The scientific community have conducted exhaustive tests to prove that rhino horn has some type of aphrodisiac effect but all these tests have come up soft to say the least. I start doubting just how wise the Orientals are when we see this stupidity being propagated openly. The per kilo cost of rhino horn is somewhere in the region of the cost of Platinum and business men are happy to pay poachers to kill the animals with impunity so as to fill their coffers and supply a placebo to gullible idiots in Japan and China to name two recipient countries. What needs to be done is there needs to be more financial support for our anti poachers , if they are remunerated at market related levels we will have more professionals entering the trade and negating the collusion effect. The government needs to be the ring leader in funding the anti poaching program and then request added support from big business. The advertising value to a large corporate supporting a government sanctioned and run program is worth it weight in gold. Social conscience is a strong weapon and a smart corporate company could use this to their ultimate financial benefit. The anti poachers ultimately must be paid market related salaries and armed accordingly. You cannot send an agent out with a 38 special revolver and pit him against ak47 wielding thugs. More over the “wallets” behind the poachers must be brought to book and fined into the next decade and or imprisoned, their very lucrative poaching campaign must ultimately become too costly for them to make money from it. Hit those behind the poaching in the pocket and eventually they will simply leave it alone. Every business man knows that it is better to cut the losses and walk away from a venture that is now costing him money, time in court, jail and bad publicity.

This now brings me to a new trend in our ever increasingly politically correct world. It is a new catch phrase that irks me greatly. I first read about it on a very respectable blog penned by Mr Eeben Barlow the former “owner” of a company i worked for way back in the day. Executive Outcomes was a phenomenal company that can be described by modern terms as a “PMC” private military company. This was the first professional such company. Eeben recently wrote on his blog of a new fangled term that has reared its head in military circles called “COURAGEOUS CONSTRAINT” a dilly term that has Eeben very riled up in that what it basically calls for is for soldiers to practice restraint when dealing with enemy forces as it may interfere with the locals sleep time (generalised version).
All modern soldiers who operate within legitimate operations and armies will naturally take as much care so as to minimise the collateral damage aspect of conducting operations in populated areas. It is worth while noting that most armies face off against dissidents and guerrillas who for obvious reasons inject themselves into the local population using the civilians as “shields”. It is cowardice but it is a very common practice that goes back to the cave man days i suspect. Military commanders are now expected to instruct their troops to hold off from firing on the enemy who could be planting a road side IED(improvised explosive device) which could very well kill his own men or unsuspecting civilians. It is completely ridiculous for an army to be told to exercise such a redundant command that was obviously cooked up by a politician far from the front and is desperately trying to garner a few votes as he is “showing” his humanitarian side. Screw the lives of the soldiers on the ground and the civilians being caught up in all this mess. Telling soldiers to exercise “courageous constraint” is akin to telling them to be cowards and the commanders giving these erroneous orders limp and playing a deadly game with other peoles lives. Its better to die fighting than die doing diddly squat because your gunfire may wake sleeping locals and get the dogs barking. . They are soldiers not crossing guards and it is like saying that you are screwing for virginity. Eeben described it perfectly by writing and i quote
“Going to war is a political decision., Making war is the military’s responsibility.”

I have a very high regard for Eeben and find his blog very well written and above all level headed. I have the distinct honour to have worked for Eeben and his company Executive Outcomes in Angola with the air wing as a refueller / marshaller. I also worked in the weapon store conducting basic weapon maintenance, convoy protection, sentry duty at our boom gate within the ex Cuban / Angolan base at Cabo Ledo , base prep at the Rio Longa training base and the very important task of dumping our garbage in a suspected mine field, we were assured by FAA soldiers that the perimeter fence line and grassy areas surrounding the base were mined by the FAA and Cubans to prevent shoot and scoot attacks from UNITA during the civil war. We nicknamed this garbage dumping as “breakfast at tiffany`s”. The reasoning behind our choice of name was that as soon as we started chucking the rubbish from the back of our vehicles the FAA (Angolan armed forces) troops would make an appearance and scratch through the heaps of trash looking for anything edible. It is sad that they were so hungry but it was a country wracked by 30+ years of civil war and there was obviously more money for weaponry than for food. But i digress, for the whole sordid affair on this dilly contentious “courageous constraint” issue please follow the link to Eeben Barlow`s military and security blog .http://eebenbarlowsmilitaryandsecurityblog.blogspot.com/

In conclusion, all this confusion and inactivity means we as a civilisation have to take a large collective bite of the big POO SANDWICH while political wrangling drags its feet and costs human lives and those of our dwindling animal populations. Man is only at the top of the food chain due to our opposable thumbs enabling us to SMS text, walk upright and murder everything in our paths. We should be renamed from humans to inhumanes. We love and excel at killing but now we must make sure we don’t bother the neighbours while freeing them from tyranny and all manner of misery. GO FIGURE?
Michael B Da Silva
THE DA SILVA CODE

CAR WARS

2011-07-21T08:02:00.002+02:00

CARNAGE
BAD DRIVING AND THE NEED FOR SPEED

Our roads are fast becoming slaughter houses with our need for speed and automotive mayhem. A slew of fatal accidents in the Helderberg area lately attest to our quest for automotive murder.
The brutal motor cycle accident on the 18th of July on the R102 just past the weigh bridge was a horrid scene. I drove past literally minutes after it happened and i could hear the bikes engine which had totally been dislodged from the now non existing frame “ticking”. The bike had literally exploded into pieces and the unfortunate rider cut in two after hitting a flatbed truck carrying steel. The truck from what i could make out had obviously just left the weigh bridge after inspection and was crossing the road way at the stop street, the driver obviously didn’t see the “black” Ducati monster approaching at what must have been near flat out. The extent of the damage to the bike and dismembering of the rider indicates that the bike was “flying”. It was a sickening sight and the shock was evident on the faces of those that were stopping. What i noted most was the lack of skid marks which indicates the possibility that the rider did not have the reflex time to even brake, his very unfortunate end came brutal but mercifully quickly. The police were on the scene very quickly seeing as the accident happened mere metres from the weigh bridge and were still busy covering the victim with the blue blankets.

The motor cycle fraternity always argue that motorists don’t pay enough attention to bikers and cause most the accidents. However the blame must be equally allotted to the bikers who tend to use our roads as de facto race tracks flouting speed limits and using the left shoulder to over take motorists, these are dangerous practices and add to the statistics we see advertised on television news especially over easter and xmas time. We have the worst road death tolls in the world and it seems we are hell bent on dying during the holidays. Alcohol, drug, driver fatigue, un roadworthy vehicles, non adherence to traffic rules and general bad manners seem to be the order of the day on our roads and are the main contributing factors to our elevated death tolls. The bike accident of the 18th of july was a tragedy and could have been averted if the truck driver paid more attention and the biker was not thrashing his bike down the R102 using it as Silverstone race track. Here driver error and speed were to blame. The extent of injuries indicate clearly the speed with which the bike was travelling. One does not need to be a road crash investigator to see that speed kills. It is a tragedy and his (the biker`s) family are left with the aftermath along with a traumatised truck driver. The R 102 needs to be policed more vigorously to lower the speed generally used on this road. The R102 runs parallel to the N2 freeway and has no speed cameras that i have noticed. It is helderberg`s very own “Autobahn” and it is duly used as that. I would expect the stop street at the on ramp / weigh bridge exit to have a traffic light therefore naturally slowing the traffic racing along the R102.

Another tragic well publicised accident resulted in the deaths of two female occupants of a toyota yaris. Their only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were rear ended by a Mercedes benz and an 18 year old school student flung from Toyota yaris. What makes this accident especially heinous is the fact that the driver of the Mercedes “left “the scene of a fatal accident and amazingly his car removed from the scene. He was desperately sought by the police for a week and then made a brief bail application after handing himself over to the police. It is worth noting that he had travelled back to Johannesburg! The fact that the car was removed so quickly and his Houdini disappearing act left a sour taste in many people`s mouths and even the minister of transport in the Western Cape was asking questions. Only after a plea was made on radio did a one Ross Sergeant come forward. I use his name as it is public knowledge at this time. What was he doing back in Johannesburg? Was business too important? Just a question i ask myself out loud. It seems to me in my personal capacity that “class” and “position” make a well to do person less accountable to law and the rule of law. It is noteworthy to add that it is illegal to leave the scene of a fatal accident. Except of course if you are being whisked away in an ambulance. Being rich in Somerset West it seems makes one impervious to laws, regulations and road ordinances, (once again i am thinking out loud and it is my democratic right to have an opinion and voice it, i have in no way made any comments that were not already publically made in the news).

In my year of living here in Somerset West, having moved here from Johannesburg i have noted that the general Cape Town area have terrible drivers who seem to flout all accepted norms when it comes to emergency vehicles approaching with sirens on. This “disease” is especially prevalent here in Somerset West. People just don’t seem to give a crap that an ambulance is trying to get to an accident scene or to a hospital. I have noticed many times how drivers just sit there and don’t change lanes to allow the emergency vehicle a way through , drivers expect the ambulance or police car to find a route around them. This sickens me! Afterall it could very well be a family member involved and the ambulance trying in vain to circumnavigate some stuck up “posh” person who does not care. This has been noted by other people i have spoken to. Its a disease in this town!
The double cab drivers and premium car drivers are prone to selfish behaviour on the roads and the bikers race around like they were Valentino Rossi. Not all bikers do this but the majority are careless and take unnecessary chances. I have seen a biker who loves to “wheelie” his bike after launching from traffic lights, this is both illegal and STUPID. These clowns are not cool and are a danger to all and sundry. The mini bus taxi`s in the Cape are just as bad as they are in Johannesburg, and the carnage they sow is equal regardless of the province. The drivers of these death traps are definitely not qualified and are not practicing safe and courteous driving habits. We just need to look at the driver who disregarded the level crossing in Blackheath a while back and went around cars waiting for a train to pass. This “murderer” pushed by and his taxi was hit by the train. Final tally was 10 children killed. He lived and to my knowledge is still roaming free. A sin if you ask me. Here in Somerset West there is a taxi driver who constantly disregards the rules of the road and loves to “jump” the traffic lights before it has turned to green. He does this with a full taxi and i see him daily on my commute to work. His taxi is easily identified by the horrid graphics painted on the side that advertise his taxi as “BABY SCREAM” , what a dreadful name to call your taxi! It is almost as tasteless as one i saw in Johannesburg advertising of all things. Doom. The wording read “fast deadly doom” and was emblazoned along the entire side of the vehicle. I for one would not climb into a taxi advertising “fast deadly doom”.

Drivers must change their attitudes and start obeying the rules of the road. Stop SMS`ing while you drive and refrain from talking on your cell phones while driving, oh and this applies to police and metro cops too. You are not above the law! The elderly who have obviously passed their “drive by date” should also be curtailed in the interest of safety. I am not being nasty about this but there are quite a few doddering old folk that should not be allowed to operate a motor vehicle on public roads. There are a lot of very good elderly drivers out there but the number of over the hill drivers are on the increase in what is predominantly a retirement town. I am not anti the aged but there should be proficiency tests done for all drivers when they reach the age of 60, 70, and at best 80. Thereafter i would seriously doubt the response time an octogenarian has in the event of an emergency. It is noteworthy to mention the moving hazard that operates a Mercedes Benz here in Somerset West. This delightful or is it frightful old lady attempts something akin to driving and is a mobile chicane. Other road users avoid her at all costs and pedestrians have been known to have close calls while standing on the pavement. She is a one person mobile wrecking crew.

Lets try and be considerate safe road users and watch out for the pedestrians. Especially on the piece of Main road in Strand that runs under the N2 bridge. There have been two fatal pedestrian accidents that i have driven past. Always in the evening when the workers are making their way home. Here speed and lack of attention are the primary causes , in my humble opinion. I would hazard a guess that alcohol are also to blame as both accidents i drove by were on Friday evenings around 18h00. The pedestrians may have stopped for a tipple after the long week and then weren’t that compos mentis when negotiating the route home, that and the fact that people tend to speed on that particular stretch of road combined with pedestrians suddenly popping out from behind the bridge pillars and stepping out into the road are a ready made recipe for disaster. Drinking and driving is irresponsible and illegal, lets rather make use of the buddy system when going out on “the piss” and have a designated driver. Driving while drinking or under the influence just “aint cool” seriously. It is “funny” how the majority of drunk drivers escape accidents unharmed while killing innocent people. Could the sudden “disappearance “ of the driver who killed two women on the N2 have been evading the breathalyzer? Its just conjecture but i believe it to be so and everyone i have spoken to think it and i am simply voicing my opinion which is guaranteed under our constitution and besides we will never know since nobody was ever tested and the car removed from the scene, effectively “sanitising” the scene. The reality of it all is that two people died and correct procedures were flouted, was it a case of social position within the community being used to escape the media glare and bring the family name into disrepute? Personally i think so.

Michael B Da Silva
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
http://thedasilvacode.com

BENZENE, stirred not shaken..

2011-07-14T13:14:00.001+02:00

HEAVY WATER
A STORY OF INDUSTRIAL SPIRITS AND BENZENE ON THE ROCKS

A while back i purchased a bottle of vodka called “pure” vodka. It was in a good looking bottle with a very official looking well designed label and the price was the deal clincher. I swiftly uplifted the pure brand vodka and poured myself a long shot flavoured with lime and old fashioned H2o. I savoured the flavour and duly polished half the bottle. This routine was repeated for a few days until i started to feel a tad iffy and started “regurgitating” my stomach contents, it was at this time i started noticing an odd after taste. It was a benzene flavour and i was starting to feel like death warmed up. By this time i was seriously feeling cheated and fully understanding that i am not in any way a vodka aficionado i was worried that i was just showing my inexperience within the vodka drinking world. I put the offending bottle one side and decided to voice my unhappiness with this smelly bad tasting bastardisation with the Western Cape health department.

I emailed the department and was contacted back almost immediately by the healthy guy at the health department and i was instructed to hand over the remnants of the bottle to the department for testing as soon as possible. The next morning a health department worker arrived from cape town and uplifted the quarter bottle of vodka. It must be noted that i emailed the department on Sunday was phoned back on Monday and the bottle uplifted on Tuesday! That has to be the most diligent department within the south African system. Mr j van staden took the bottle and hastily left for Dexter`s laboratory to conduct sample tests, he swung by the two liquor stores that i had purchased the Pure brand vodka from and took a bottle of each with for control tests. He relieved sunrise liquors in somerset west of 1 bottle and village liquors in Gordon`s Bay of the second test bottle.
A long silence ensued and i was worried that i had sent this dude on a wild goose chase and they hadn`t turned up anything bad when testing the vodka. The eerie silence was disconcerting to say the least so i sent a follow up email to Dr Ivan Bromfield stating the story and asking if i had simply been a “sissy” and cannot handle my booze? He replied that he was still busy with the tests and that he would get the relevant department to contact me as soon as they had news. His email was sent yesterday Wednesday the 13th of july and low and behold i was phoned today the 14 th of july by Mr J Van Staden with very BAD news indeed!

After testing the quarter bottle i sent and the two control bottles from two separate liquor outlets it was found that the “pure” brand vodka with its professional label was bottled here in South Africa using illegal ingredients. Among these ingredients are “Industrial strength spirits and Benzene”. The raw ingredients are shipped into the country and used by uncouth distillers to “punch” up the alcohol content and push up volumes. Needless to say i am a tad worried about what damage i may have done to myself after imbibing copious amounts of industrial strength spirits and benzene? Furthermore Mr Van Staden informed me that all bottles of “pure” brand vodka had been removed from all shelves in the Western Cape and the bottler is being investigated by the SAPS and SARS. He confirmed that all the vodka confiscated was destroyed and witnessed by both SARS and the SAPS. A fine is being issued to the bottler and the guy responsible for the product is being sought. Apparently he made a hasty move to Kwa Zulu Natal and is on the lam. The son of a bitch better remain light and mobile because if i get my hands on him i will definitely have some things to say to the swine and i may just unscrew his head , take a giant dump down his neck and use his tongue as toilet paper!
I will add some extracts from the encyclopaedia on the dangers of the two “additives” that were used in the “pure” brand vodka. One thing is for sure, i will rather pay the extra 20 rand or so and stick to royalty. Me and the count will become friends. Pushkin or Smirnoff will be the way to go. Don’t buy cheap you may as well buy a litre of benzene and swig away.

BENZENE:

Benzene and Leukemia
The dangers of benzene have been known since the earliest part of the 20th century. Benzene was used in the manufacturing of artificial rubber, and by the time of the First World War, it was used in a variety of mechanical industries as well as explosives. Because at the time diagnostic science was a relatively young field, doctors could not adequately describe the manner in which benzene affected people except that reduction of exposure lead to reduction in related illnesses.
Aplastic anemia:
The first medical condition directly linked to benzene poisoning, aplastic anemia, was discovered in 1897. Aplastic anemia is an umbrella term for a group of blood-related conditions mostly characterized by the drop in or suspension of the production of blood. Due to the primitive state of medical technology, aplastic anemia caused a very quick and painful death for most people who contracted it. Benzene was suspected to cause more illnesses, but was considered too valuable to the war effort as a solvent and explosives ingredient to discontinue using.
After the discovery of the shape of the DNA molecule in 1958, scientists came to realize that the hexagonal shape of the benzene molecule allowed it to fit perfectly within the double helix structure of DNA. Part of the dangers of benzene is that it can be introduced into the body through several means, including inhalation, consumption, and even absorbed through the skin. Once inside the body, it is quickly absorbed by the blood, which then carries the toxin through out many internal systems. As the exposure level increases, benzene works its way into the DNA of the bone marrow, where it can cause several cancerous mutations, including leukemia.
Once mutated bone marrow cells being to replicate, they are carried throughout the body by the blood and settle in other parts of the body and metastasize, or spread their cancer to previously unaffected cells. As the cancer spreads from one part to another, the body begins to die, killed by its own cells. Scientists are still at a loss to explain the exact mechanism of the mutation, but nevertheless there is virtually complete consensus among doctors, the benzene industry, and the government that benzene exposure poses a significant threat to the health and safety of people and the environment.
Benzene Exposure:
Benzene is one of the most regulated chemicals in the United States. It is also one of the most widely produced and distributed; in fact, most city air contains significant amounts of benzene from car exhaust and cigarette smoke. The Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) stipulates that because benzene is so dangerous, workers can only be exposed to one part per million parts of air per eight hour day a week! Benzene can also be absorbed through the skin, making it one of the most dangerous health risks in the United States today.
If you have been exposed to significant levels of benzene, consult your doctor immediately. Leukemia and other benzene-related diseases often have no immediate symptoms, but can be immediately life-threatening. Don't risk your health, your job, or your life.

INDUSTRIAL SPIRITS

Methylated Spirits (or Denatured alcohol) is ethanol that has additives to make it more poisonous or unpalatable, and thus, undrinkable. In some cases it is also dyed.
Denatured alcohol is used as a solvent and as fuel for spirit burners and camping stoves. Because of the diversity of industrial uses for denatured alcohol, hundreds of additives and denaturing methods have been used. Traditionally, the main additive is 10% methanol, giving rise to the term "methylated spirit." Other typical additives include isopropyl alcohol, acetone, methyl ethyl ketone, methyl isobutyl ketone, and denatonium.[1]
Denaturing alcohol does not chemically alter the ethanol molecule. Rather, the ethanol is mixed with other chemicals to form an undrinkable mixture.
Different additives are used to make it difficult to use distillation or other simple processes to reverse the denaturation. Methanol is commonly used both because of its boiling point being close to that of ethanol and because it is toxic. In many countries, it is also required that denatured alcohol be dyed blue or purple with an aniline dye.
the common name for pure ethanol, i.e. ethanol that has been freed of water. It may contain small amounts of benzene that have been added to aid in removing water. Substances may be added to absolute alcohol to render it unfit for human consumption and hence free of excise duty: industrial spirit contains 5% v/v methanol, while methylated spirit also contains pyridine, petroleum oil, and methyl violet dye, and surgical spirit also contains castor oil, diethyl phthalate, and methyl salicylate.

Read more: absolute alcohol - the common name for, industrial spirit, methylated spirit, surgical spirit - Spirit, Contains, Oil, Water, and Ethanol http://science.jrank.org/pages/23624/absolute-alcohol.html#ixzz1S4er1R7N

THE ROT BOX DELIVERS

2011-07-13T14:00:00.002+02:00

FROM TOP BILLING TO BOTTOM OF THE BARREL

i cannot believe my eyes! what was that sad crap you aired on tuesday the 12th of july?

it is with a heavy heart that i write this letter to you. i could barely bring myself to watching the abomination you "puked" onto your viewers last night, the bad taste within your team is starting to show. your programming director should be sacked forthwith, or even better sent into exile for putting that horrid "DIE ANTWOORD" toss on your once upper class program. you have with one fell swoop just shot yourselves in the proverbial foot. what the hell were you thinking?

are you so desperate for programming that you are willing to prostitute your once entertaining, informative and well put together show for a moment of pure trash?. now i know that you will get all smug and defensive and argue that you are simply catering for all types and demographics. what a load of BULL SCHTEIN! you already lowered your standards by airing the piece on that other waste of space and fellow trailer trash character jack parow. you are seriously harming your credibility and viewership. i for one will no longer waste my time watching crap!

sis on you!

please for your own sakes, dont air rubbish,!!! anyone who would find that crap entertaining definately dont watch top billing to start with. they are more likely to be watching that other redneck trailer trash program called WWE wrestling or playing darts in a bar swilling back double brandewyns en coke . what the hell possessed you? and what possessed you to send jeannie to cover that very sad, bad waste of time? have you lot taken leave of your senses????

you are misguided and it seems hell bent on destroying your once decent show. you are committing television suicide and let me tell you something,,,,, television suicide is definately not "DIE ANTWOORD"!

yours in utter disgust:
Michael B Da Silva

THE DA SILVA CODE
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com

http://thedasilvacode.com

www.michaelbdasilva.20m.com

michaelbdasilva@gmail.com

A PHARMACY TOO FAR

2011-07-06T15:13:00.003+02:00

JOHNNY CALLS THE CHEMIST
SOMERSET WEST . A TOWN ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

The world is getting smaller so they say. For humans to travel today is a doddle compared to the slog our forefathers had to endure in covered wagons being pulled by horses or oxen. Imagine how annoying a kid would have been asking every 20 kilometres “when we going to get there?”. The mortality rate on these far flung trips was high and i am sure in part due to frustrated parents losing it with bored kids whining all day. We must remember that the wagons then had no air suspension, separate air conditioning, head rest dvd players, i pod jacks, and cruise control. There were no shell ultra city rest stops or wild bean coffee and pie combo specials. The world was just so much bigger back then and it took forever to get anywhere.

Thank goodness for the industrial revolution and the ensuing technology boom. The world shrunk and became all fast food. Need milk? Pop out at 03h24 in the morning to your nearest petrol station convenience shop and get milk and a loaf of bread just like that. In the old days you had to get up and go out and milk a very grumpy cow, risk slipping in a cow pat and then had to bake a bread from scratch. The modern world is a marvel. Nothing is unobtainable at late hours. You can go out at any time in this fast food world and find what you want with ease......... Except if you decide to live in the greater Helderberg area. Apparently we still live in the dark ages here in what is Somerset West/ Strand/ Gordon`s Bay and including that “other” metropolis Grabouw. You try going out in the late evening and finding an open pharmacy. Apparently there are no emergencies in this area to warrant an emergency chemist. Yes, you try finding somewhere to buy plaster of paris in the evening for example.

My girl friend needed to repair the cast on my son`s arm which he had duly busted at school swinging like tarzan on the jungle gym. The cast he had on had gotten wet and went soggy and there was no way in hell we were going back to HH hospital to sit in a long queue at 20h00. My girl friend drove to every single shop in the vicinity and then some, it was all to no avail. Eventually we were instructed by the lady at private clinic to try in belville as they had a pharmacy that stayed open till sparrow fart. You see, we are one of the many who don’t have a medical aid due to the extortionate costs of medical aids these days. Yes, there are normal people living in the Somerset West area, we are not all super wealthy and claim on our medical aids for a box of tissues like some of those living in their “bubble world” do here in this very snooty hoity toity area. We are the poor folk in these peoples eyes, and they are the ones who by claiming for silly things on their medical aids are driving the medical aid prices through the roof. Anyways i digress, back to the plaster of paris debacle. My girlfiend duly headed off into the darkness to find this mystical fabled pharmacy in Bellville which is 30+ kilometres away and just about in Cape Town itself. She eventually did find the pharmacy and did get the plaster she needed but not before being tailed by two shady looking dudes with beanies on and reclining so far back in their seats that they looked almost as if they were sleeping, the pumping “gangsta” rap was also a tad disconcerting to say the least. After treating two red traffic lights as yields my girlfriend finally found a police car and the two wanna be snoop dogg gangsta`s made their laid back escape. The pharmacists were very helpful and my girlfriend returned home with the plaster of paris in hand, we must just note that it is now 01h00 in the morning! So much for the world getting smaller! We may as well be living on the dark side of the moon!

Somerset west / strand /Gordon`s bay area desperately needs a 24 hour pharmacy. The farmers from over the pass there in grabouw can drive the 12clicks to us here in civilisation to get their medicinal requirements. It is laughable that such a large town like Somerset West does not have a 24 hour or at least “late” hours pharmacy. The queuing system at the HH hospital is bizarre to say the least and a visit usually lasts at least 4 hours minimum! Driving to the other side of the peninsula (almost) is ridiculous and unsafe especially at night. What ended up being a 5 hour hunt for plaster of paris 40+ kilometres away could have been done and dusted in 6 or so kilometres and done in less than an hour.

WE NEED A 24 HOUR PHARMACY IN THE SOMERSET WEST AREA!

Michael b da silva

THE DA SILVA CODE
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
http://thedasilvacode.com

CANNIBALS AND ZOMBIES: a study

2011-07-04T15:12:00.000+02:00

ZOMBIE NATION
THE DEFINITIVE GUIDE TO SURVIVING THE APOCALYPSE.
A DO`S AND DONT`S REPORT CLASSIFIED: FOR NON ZOMBIES EYES ONLY

There are many respected guides on surviving the apocalypse and on exactly how to deal with zombies. i have the greatest respect and admiration for these works of fiction however i wish to correct many misconceptions and erroneous statements made within these guides. I wish to address the reasons and real methods for dealing with and rehabilitating zombies.

We must first understand that zombies don’t just suddenly become zombies when the “fit hits the shan” after an extinction type event, be it a meteor striking the earth, nuclear war , massive earthquakes due to polar shift or being left behind after the RAPTURE. Zombification will occur in the event of one of the big four happening but will take at least 3 months before the first signs of fully fledged and vetted zombies begin to make their appearance. Signs will be available and i will be explaining how those signs manifest themselves and what actions you can safely take.
People often scoff at the mere thought of zombies due to “Hollywood`s” almost farcical depiction of them in the plethora of shoot `em up zombie flicks, however the truth is often more ominous and fantastic than anything Hollywood can dream up. Lets start with science and reality shall we.
After an extinction type event the first thing that deteriorates is the rule of law and basic personal care and hygiene. The survivors will flip flop into a disorganised rabble with no moral compass on which to rely. The average pencil pusher type office clerk will suddenly transform into a killing machine in search of food, weapons and medication. Looting will become the order of the day and supermarkets and pharmacies will be ransacked. Liquor stores and tobacco wholesalers will be relieved of their stock which, in turn will become the new “currency”. Trading by way of the barter system will be king and cash will become as useful as toilet paper. After the initial glut of running rampant and the shelves stripped of anything of value the problems will begin to start. Feuding within small clans will erupt into warfare for each others food and weapons. Fresh food will soon become problematic and all animals left will be on many survivors menu`s each evening, with even these recourses dwindling it wont take long before the “other” white meat is ingested by desperate survivors. This is where the story takes a nasty turn. Cannibalism isn’t a new thing to mankind and has been practiced in one form or another since the dawn of time, be it homicidal cannibalism (killing someone for food) or necro cannibalism (eating someone who is already dead). Many examples of both are long entrenched in folk lore and history.

Cannibalism comes from the Spanish word “canibales” named after the “carib” people from the west indies. Cannibalism is also known by its more scientific name as ANTHROPOPHAGY”. The korowai tribe from the congo region are a tribe known to eat human flesh as cultural practice. These are practices frowned upon with much dismay by western cultures. In more recent times the combatants in sierra leone also feasted on the corpses of their enemies believing they would gain their foe`s powers. They ate the hearts, ears, testicles and brains of butchered soldiers and civilians , an unfortunate captain bob Mackenzie was ingested by RUF rebels in sierra leone in 1995. Further back in the timeline of history, the maori new Zealand Neanderthals actively practiced cannibalism and may themselves have been eaten by modern man who regarded the Neanderthals as lower animals. Cannibalism is grouped into two major groups. Endo cannibalism ( the eating of humans from the same “community”) one need only think of the Donner party, an unfortunate name as it wasn’t all that great a party. And the argentine rugby players who crashed into the andes mountains. The second main type of cannibalism is exo cannibalism ( eating humans from other communities).

You may now be wondering how zombies factor into the equation? With the basic understanding of bad dietary practices and habits i will now prove the link between cannibalism brought on by necessity for sustenance . the eating of human flesh although a disgusting practice may be all that stands between death and survival for survivors, and the “grossness” will very soon be looked at as just another task we see on programs such as fear factor. Gross but there are rewards, the rewards here are survival as opposed to monetary. We have all become familiar with “mad cow disease” Bovine spongiform encephalopathy. This is found in humans as CREUTZFELD-JAKOB DISEASE” an incurable degenerative neurological disorder contracted by the consumption of “prion” enzymes found in human flesh especially the brain. The brain when exposed to the prion enzymes (a protein) causes holes and makes the brain tissue take on a spongy like texture ( think sponge bob square pants). This is known as “TRANSMISSABLE SPONGY ENCEPHALOPATHY”. The symptoms of infection are as follows.* rapidly progressing dementia leading to memory loss , personality change and hallucinations followed by speech impairment jerky movements, balance and co ordination dysfunction. Changes in gait and rigid posture interspersed with seizures. Death usually occurs in victims within a maximum of six months depending of the severity of infection. Infection can be attributed to transmission by contaminated harvested human brain products, immunoglobulins, corneal grafts, dural grafts or electrode implants. Thus indicating that implements used can also be responsible for the transmission. The prion proteins are easily transferred from scalpel or other implement and infect unsuspecting victims. Creutzfeld-jakob disease has been known to be hereditary, so we must hope that before the debilitating effects of the disease are fully realised in a potential zombie that they have not procreated( gotten their funky zombie mojo on). A human growth hormone harvested from the pituitary gland of an infected person can also lead to full blown infection. It is of interest that the American government banned a medication back in the early 80`s that was in a nutshell bad to say the least. Cadaveril hgh was stopped in 1985. The dormant gene may be living in us and just waiting to be “switched on” at the first taste of a “ladies rump” or man sized “sirloin”.

The guides to survival are a dime a dozen and explain in much graphic detail how the survivors will have to stay mobile and repel attacks from slow moving zombies by bashing their heads in with whatever you have at hand or by blowing their heads off with a firearm. These types of preventative and self defence measures have their obvious pitfalls. Shooting zombies in the head should only be undertaken at extended distances, this is better described as “sniping”. The matter dislodged by high calibre bullets passing through the skull of a zombie is contaminated and highly resilient ( the prion infected matter sprayed on the faces of non zombies looks super cool and graphic in the movies but is a death sentence to the poor schmuck covered in it). Close or hand to hand encounters should only be undertaken under extreme duress and any matter that lands on the non zombie must immediately be removed. It has become accepted practice in the medical world that the only safe methods of killing the prion protein is by burning the affected contaminated article or by disinfecting it with a solution of COPPER-HYDROGEN PEROXIDE. This solution is the only sure fire way of killing the prion protein as it destroys the protein on the molecular level . It would therefore be wise to maintain a healthy stock of the CHP at your disposal to be administered to the zombie via darting( like we see in national geographic). The stronger the dose the quicker the mortality rate will be. Once the zombie has succumbed to the fatal mixture the remains will also be neutralised from infectious prion proteins. This is of importance as no one disposes of the remains of zombies by burial, and the presence of wild animals feasting on the carcasses could exacerbate the situation. Face to face encounters with zombies must be avoided at all costs to avoid accidental cross contamination. The vivid pictures of people driving around in pick up trucks going on zombie hunts is fool hardy to say the least. The risks are just too high. A stand off approach is the only option and if you have to engage a zombie in close quarters it would be advantageous to ensure you are properly clothed ( no ragged torn clothes that will allow direct access to your skin) and you should be wearing some manner of mask with protective eyewear. The prion gene is highly contagious and will easily be absorbed through the eye. With all the brain matter strewn about after “wacking” the zombie you will basically be standing squarely in the ” hot zone” . once your encounter is concluded you will need to discard the clothing you have on and also the equipment used. The prion protein is easily transferred through the blood and also by transfusion so getting blood all over yourself is a big NO NO! If your weapon of choice were a machete or axe, i recommend you leave it in place and find another unused weapon as your self defence” side arm”. Even after cleansing the axe , machete or sledge hammer with COPPER-HYDROGEN PEROXIDE there is never the guarantee that every inch of the implement has been thoroughly disinfected. The risk of accidental exposure is extremely high and there is no quick fix if you are accidentally infected. You will be immediately shunned by your group and excommunicated or worse, killed there and then. If an operation is to be mounted in zombie areas it would be wise to learn the “zombie walk”. This can easily be achieved by closely watching already infected zombies or simply by making sure that you have a copy of Michael Jackson`s Thriller dvd. This is an invaluable source of information on the gait that zombies have. Zombies will not notice those that “fit the profile”, this is a person who zombie walks will blend in as opposed to a person running and screaming. Remember the symptoms i described earlier and you will see that fooling a zombie is entirely possible and within the realm of reality. The infection rate will be exponential due to the relative ease at which infection can be transferred. The prion protein is a bastard and it is durable. The COPPER-HYDROGEN PEROXIDE option is the only real solution as there is no extreme blood letting as there is with shooting zombies in the head or bludgeoning them with implements. As i have said this approach is for emergencies only! The stand off rule should be practiced and darting the zombies with CHP and burning remains in place is the more humane thing to do. Granted, it isn’t as engaging as beating the zombies brains in with a club but it is safer. The catch phrase here is “minimise cross contamination”

In conclusion, it is wise to stock up on weapons and ammo to protect yourself from other non zombies as well as firing on zombies from a stand off range where you know you wont have to traverse the area of operations. It is just as easy to slip on a sliver of brain tissue and get yourself cross contaminated accidentally as it is being mauled by a zombie hell bent on “chowing” you. Accidents in this arena are unforgiving. Refrain from cannibalism as long as possible and only eat healthy individuals if you have no alternative. Refrain from eating the brain matter, any internal organs or areas where sores or wounds occurred. Eat the fleshy parts of the buttocks like the argentine rugby players did. The fore tribe in papua new guinea had a very high percentage of women and children suffering from “kuru” the human form of CJD due to being fed the “undesirable” parts of human flesh by the men in the village. The practice was that the men ate the arms, legs etc and left the “offal” and brains to the women and children. The men were less prone to the zombification due to their elevation within the tribe as more superior. The women and children suffered all the ailments associated and the fatality rate was as such that it led to the tribe all but becoming extinct. Sick or wounded non zombies must not be consumed to prevent the possible infection, only healthy people should be eaten and only in small quantities to minimise inherent risks . there are currently no known cures for or ways of rehabilitating zombies other than killing them or waiting for them to succumb from their exposure to CJD (creutzfeldt-jakob disease). It is therefore of monumental importance to
BE PICKY BEFORE GETTING YOUR GRAZE ON!

Amazon dot com is currently running a special on Michael Jackson`s thriller. I highly recommend this very insightful dvd be added to your arsenal of “end of the world” post apocalyptic paraphernalia. Preparedness is a must in today s end times spectrum, don’t be surprised by the rapture and end up left here in times of chaos. Stockpile now! Be prepared for the end, be it a comet , natural disaster, nuclear war or rapture don’t leave everything till when it happens. Once again STOCKPILE!
Michael b da silva
michaelbdasilva@gmail.com
THE DA SILVA CODE

For further information on cannibalism and creutzfeldt-jakob disease google the following: creutzfeld-jakob disease , cannibalism , prion protein, transmissible spongiform encephalopathy , anthropophagy , copper-hydrogen peroxide , kuru , endo cannibalism, exo cannibalism.

JUDGEMENT DAY!!

2011-05-22T14:27:00.001+02:00

JUDGEMENT DAY
THE CHUCKLEHEAD CHRONICLES
Are you ready to rapture? Or not !
This is an open letter to Harold Camping, “chucklehead” of the decade.

How is it even possible for you to want to carry on living after making a monumental horses arse of yourself and your gullible followers? If suicide weren’t a cardinal sin i would half expect you to voluntarily end the shame you have brought on your name , your family, your followers and your “vessel” AKA your meat sack!

You sowed so much crap into obviously weak minded individuals that you rightfully deserve the dubious honour of chucklehead of the decade! You extremist fundamentalists have been sprouting “end of days” waffle for hundreds of years, when are you going to get it right? This isn’t rocket science people.
There have been others that were also akin to snake oil salesmen as yourself and led their “flock” of lemmings right into oblivion. You may recall old reverend jim jones of the peoples temple in Guyana and his predilection for cool aid with a zing. Body count a whopping 900. There was david Koresh, born Vernon howell who at mount carmel compound in Waco ordained himself the lamb and therefore gave himself the right to commit rape of minors, his idiocy cost 90 plus lives. Then there was marshall applewhite and his weirdo consort bonnie nettles (bo & peep) of the heaven`s gate cult who started off as HIM (human individual metamorphosis) yeeessss mmm really. They too committed suicide on a mass scale believing that trailing in the wake of the hale-bopp comet was a UFO that was going to spirit them away to paradise. Total body count was in the neighbourhood of i believe, 30 or so. These were all wacko cults just like the one you are running!
Your idiot believers seriously were expecting the rapture and are now left wandering about like lost farts in a hurricane. How could you deceive these obviously low brow types? They are now on every crackpot list across the globe and will be ridiculed and laughed at by all and sundry. Oh, including me! How are you going to rationalise this FUBAR? Please entertain me with some or other hair brained excuse. Hey, maybe GOD was just too busy playing golf or maybe he forgot., maybe he was out of town on a business trip, he gave up on us and decided that there is nobody worth “saving” on this insignificant little speck of a planet, What`s it going to be? What is your spin doctor coming up with ?
you are a charlatan!

Man i laughed so hard when i watched the bimbo`s that follow you speaking the biggest load of cow shit on south African television news, they are as good as socially outcast and are sure to be branded as the lunatic fringe. Your enormous double sided sign along side the n2 freeway in Somerset West in the Cape Province is testament to your stupidity. Tell me, did you only pay for it up until Saturday or was it a monthly rental? If it is a monthly rental and judgement day did happen as planned you would have wasted all that money on nothing! Instead of advertising your ignorance and misguided stupidity with an obviously expensive sign why could you not rather do the whole “Christian” thing and donate to a deserving charity?
You have just sunk your “church” with your arrogance and misplaced agenda. You advertised on your sign that the bible guarantees it, this whole judgement day affair. have any of your disgruntled followers come and asked for their money back? If you are willing to guarantee something like that it better come with a money back guarantee. I awoke on Saturday and was half expecting to see Arnold Schwarzenegger, but alas it was not to be, no terminator, no skynet, no zombies, no dead dudes crawling out the ground, no Michael Jackson thriller like dance of the dead, no judgement, no rapture no nada!
If you are reading this, which i am sure you will it means that you were not raptured and are not fit for heaven and neither are your stupid followers. Heaven don’t want you. They don’t take cult freaks, trust me, and that I GUARANTEE!
On the other hand according to your teachings it seems that no one on the planet is going to heaven in any case and that includes you and your band of merry men , judging by the lack of interest in the rapture. So i suppose we will all be going directly to hell, we wont go past begin and we wont be collecting 200 dollars. I don’t really have a problem with this seeing that we will be joining Bonn Scott, Keith Moon, Jimi Hendricks, Jim Morrison and Sam Winchester.
So in conclusion i suspect it will be pertinent for you to pack up your travelling circus and go into seclusiion. You are a very stupid man indeed!
Yours untruly: Michael B Da Silva 21st of may 2011 judgement day survivor

Ps* i guess i will have to revert back to the mayan end of the world date of 21122012. I am seriously disappointed in your serious lack of understanding in the field of mathematics!
You WALLY.
michaelbdasilva@gmail.com http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com
planet earth is the skid mark on the cosmic underpants!
(Michael b da silva)
and you Harold camping are the gezunkel nut!

NOTE: 21st october 2011.

Harold Camping, you have done it again! you have totally missed the bus and misguided your idiotic followers once again. how many times have you gotten this rapture thing wrong? when are you going to finally put this dilly crusade of yours to bed? you are a disgrace to yourself and all those that have invested their time and lifes savings in your lies.

you are an absolute joke and if it werent for the fact that you are openly defrauding your followers it would be funny as hell.

please deisist from spreading your idiocy any further and do the world in general a huge favour and disappear or evaporate or go into exile in a bears arse or something. you have proved to the world that you are an idiot and that the saps that blindly and gormlessly follow you are equally as adept at being duped by your inaccuracies and thumb sucked theories that have no basis in reality, scripture or even cartoons. please Harold, do the world a huge favour and leave all this prediction stuff to the professionals like the gypsy woman living in a caravan on the side of the road or that other snake oil salesman John Edwards. he is way more believable than you and his show way more entertaining and better produced. harold you really have no clue and everytime you open your mouth and sprout end of days rapture bullshit ,all you are doing is making some poor gullible person in your congregation more poor. they sell everything and give you the money. harold , that is called extortion and theft you criminal!

how the hell do you live with yourself? you ought to be ashamed of yourself and guess what? WE ARE ALL STILL HERE you twat!

there is a place for liars and con men like you and hell it aint, its a far scarier place and when you get there say howdy to your pals David Koresh, Jim Jones and Marshal Apple Applewhite and Bonnie Nettles and while there say hello to Muammar Gadaffi, Adolf and the rest of the scourge of humanity. You Lot bypass the relative comforts of hell and go there.

yours very untruly:
Michael B Da Silva

THE DA SILVA CODE :::: DECODED::::

2011-05-08T13:34:00.001+02:00

THE DA SILVA CODE. DE CODED

MY RELIGION.

I HAVE NEVER BEEN A CONFORMIST. I HAVE ALWAYS QUESTIONED THE AUTHORITY AND VALIDITY OF THE BOOKS WITH WHICH WE LIVE AND BASE OUR LIVES ON. THE PARABLES AND FABLES WE AS HUMANS TAKE AT FACE FALUE. I HAVE ALWAYS BELEIVED THAT THE BIBLE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A “MANUAL” FOR LIFE. HOWEVER YOU CANNOT LIVE BY A MANUAL WRITTEN VIA HERESAY AND BY WORD OF MOUTH 2000 YEARS AGO. JUST LIKE YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY SERVICE OR REPAIR A 2001 MODEL VW BEETLE WITH A 1950 MODEL SERVICE MANUAL. TIMES HAVE MOVED ON. THIS IS MY POINT. WE TAKE WHAT WE READ AS GOSPEL, BE IT IN A BIBLE OR ON THE NET. PEOPLE ARE DESPERATE TO MAKE AMMENDS BEFORE THE THE GREAT UNDOING, THUS ENSURING THEIR PLACE IN “HEAVEN”. ARE PEOPLE FOR REAL? REALLY? WHAT PEOPLE DONT SEEM TO GRASP IS THAT THE BIBLE HAS BEEN TO THE EDITORS OFFICE MANY TIMES OVER THE MILLENNIA TO “ALTER” IT TO SUIT THE TIMES. I BET, THAT MOST PEOPLE HAVE A “KING JAMES REVISED EDITION” IN THEIR HOMES. THE FACT THAT IS A REVISED EDITION SAYS IT ALL. IT HAS BEEN “TWEAKED” TO SUIT THE CURRENT AUTHOR`S VIEWS AND DOGMA.

1.THOU SHALT NOT MAKE UNTO THEE ANY GRAVEN IMAGES OR ANY LIKENESS OF ANYTHING THAT IS IN HEAVEN ABOVE, OR THAT IS IN THE EARTH BENEATH OR THAT IS IN THE WATER UNDER THE EARTH AND WORSHIP IT. BE IT A CROSS OR GOLDEN BULL. NEVER BOW TO IDOLS AND DO NOT WEAR TORTURE DEVICES AROUND YOUR NECK..
2.THOU SHALT NOT STEAL.
3. AN EYE FOR AN EYE.
4.NEVER TURN THE OTHER CHEEK.THAT SHOWS WEAKNESS, AND OTHERS WILL CAPITALISE ON THAT WEAKNESS.
5. SHOW RESPONSIBILTY TO THE RESPONSIBLE, INSTEAD OF CONCERN FOR PSYCHIC VAMPIRES.
6. BE KIND TO THOSE WHO DESERVE IT INSTEAD OF LOVE WASTED ON INGRATES.
7. MAKE COMMUNION WITH YOUR SPIRITUAL ENTITY AT LEAST ONCE A DAY. DO NOT FEAR YOUR SPIRITUAL ENTITY, IF YOU ARE A “GOD FEARING” PERSON, YOU ARE FOLLOWING THE WRONG ENTITY.
9. ACTIVELY SEEK PHYSICAL, MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL GRATIFICATION.
10.SEEK UNDEFILED WISDOM INSTEAD OF HYPOCRITICAL SELF DECEIT.
11.WHEN IN ANOTHER`S “LAIR”, SHOW THEM RESPECT OR ELSE DO NOT GO THERE.
12.IF A GUEST IN YOUR” LAIR” ANNOYS YOU OR TREATS YOU WITH NO RESPECT, TREAT HIM CRUELLY AND WITHOUT MERCY.
13.DO NOT MAKE SEXUAL ADVANCES UNLESS GIVEN THE MATING SIGNAL.
14.DO NOT TAKE WHAT DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU UNLESS IT IS A BURDEN TO THE OTHER PERSON AND HE CRIES OUT TO BE RELIEVED.
15.DO NOT HARM CHILDREN.
16. DO NOT KILL ANIMALS FOR SPORT. ONLY KILL ANIMALS IF ATTACKED OR FOR FOOD.
17. WHEN IN PUBLIC, BOTHER NO ONE. IF SOMEONE GREETS YOU, GREET THEM IN REPLY. IF A PERSON BOTHERS OR ATTACKS YOU, DESTROY THEM.
18.SEEK VITAL EXISTANCE INSTEAD OF SPIRITUAL PIPE DREAMS.
19.ACKNOWLEDGE MAGIC. IF YOU HAVE EMPLOYED MAGIC AND HAVE GAINED FROM IT AND YOU THEN OPENLY DENY THE POWER OF MAGIC, YOU WILL LOSE ALL YOU HAVE GAINED.
20.MAN IS JUST ANOTHER ANIMAL, SOMETIMES BETTER, OFTEN WORSE THAN THOSE THAT WALK ON ALL FOURS, WHO, BECAUSE OF HIS “DIVINE SPIRITUAL AND INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT” HAS BECOME THE MOST VICIOUS ANIMAL OF ALL.
21 STUPIDITY IS A SIN. ALL THINGS ARE FORGIVABLE EXCEPT BLATANT STUPIDITY AND IGNORANCE.
22..RESIST GLUTTONY.
23.RESIST SLOTH.
24.RESIST OVERT VANITY.
25.RESIST BLATANTGREED.
26.RESIST PROCRASTINATION.
27.LIVE AS IF TODAY IS THE FINAL DAY. LEAVE NOTHING UNDONE.
28. NEVER FORGET THE PAST.HOWEVER , DO NOT DWELL ON IT TOO MUCH AND DONT DAY DREAM OF THE FUTURE TOO MUCH. THE NOW IS BUT A MILLISECOND TILL IT PASSES TO THE PAST AND A MILLISECOND BEFORE THE FUTURE.
29. LIVE FREE OF THE CONFINEMENTS OF CHRISTIAN RELIGIOUS DOGMA AND FEAR OF THE TIME YOU WILL EXPIRE.
30. HAPPINESS IS IN YOUR HANDS. SHARE YOUR SMILE WITH THOSE THAT DESERVE IT. FROWN ON THOSE THAT STEAL YOUR SMILE.
31.NEVER TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY. LAUGH AT YOURSELF, LAUGH AT YOUR OWN FOLLY.
32. START LIVING FROM TODAY WITHOUT FEAR .STOP BEING A VICTIM, ITS NOT TOO LATE
33. ABOVE ALL. QUESTION AUTHORITY AND THE ORIGINS OF OUR HUMANITY. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. UNQUESTIOINED OBEDIENCE IS IMPRISONMENT.
34. KARMA IS A REALITY. WHAT GOES AROUND WILL COME AROUND.
35. PARTY YOUR PANTS OFF. INDULGE INSTEAD OF ABSTAINING. WE ARE BUT ONLY HERE FOR A SHORT TIME. MAKE EVERY SECOND COUNT.

THE DA SILVA CODE
(MMIX)

KFC :: cardboard origami

2011-04-27T12:53:00.001+02:00

WHAT GIVES ?
THIS IS A COMPLAINT LODGED ON BEHALF OF MY 7 YEAR OLD SON WHO FEELS LIKE HE HAS BEEN CHEATED AND DISENFRANCHISED BY KFC!

I TOOK MY SON TO THE STRAND KFC THE OTHER DAY TO GET A KIDS MEAL AND THE PROMISE OF A “TOY” THAT COMES WITH THE MEAL. MY SON LOOKED FORWARD TO THE DRIVE TO THE FRANCHISE AND WAS OVERJOYED TO RECEIVE HIS KIDS MEAL BOX. HE COULD BARELY CONTAIN HIMSELF AND JUST WANTED TO GET HOME TO OPEN THE BOX AND GET THE TOY.. WELL, YOU LOT SURE FAILED DISMALLY AT PRODUCING THE GOODS. HIS FACE DROPPED IMMEDIATELY AND WAS AT THE POINT OF TEARS TO FIND SOME LAME ARSE “ORIGAMI” CARD BOARD CRICKET THEMED SUPPOSED TOY. DUDES,, THESE ARE KIDS WHO WANT A 3 DIMENSIONAL TOY TO PLAY WITH, NOT A STUPID BORING CARDBOARD CUTOUT.
WERE YOU LOST FOR IDEAS OR DID SOME EMPLOYEE THINK THEY WERE BEING UBER CLEVER AND TRYING TO SAVE YOU MONEY? IF THIS IS THE CASE, FIRE THE IDIOT! NO WAIT, BEAT HIM TO DEATH! THIS PERSON DESTROYED MY SONS HAPPINESS BY PAWNING OFF A CRAP SUPPOSED TOY. SURELY YOU COULD HAVE COME OUT WITH A CHEAP CRICKET PLAYER TOY? MAYBE A FIGURINE THAT SWINGS A BAT WHEN YOU PRESS A BUTTON OR SOMETHING. ANYTHING OTHER THAN THE JUNK YOU HANDED OUT. NEEDLESS TO SAY I WONT BE GOING BACK TO KFC FOR KIDS MEALS AGAIN. I WONT WASTE MY MONEY, TIME, OR MY SONS EXPECTATIONS AGAIN. OH AND WHILE YOU ARE AT IT MAYBE YOU COULD GET THE FRANCHISES TO UP THE QUALITY OF SERVICE. THE STAFF ARE RUDE, INEFFICIENT AND DOWN RIGHT LAZY. IT SEEMS TO BE A DISEASE DOWN HERE IN THE WESTERN CAPE.
I HATE SPENDING MONEY AT A PLACE WHERE I AM TREATED BADLY. ANOTHER THING I WOULD LIKE TO “BRING UP” IS THAT IN GENERAL YOUR CHICKEN HAS BECOME VERY , VERY OILY. TOO OILY AND THE CHICKEN “WET AND GLASSY”, THIS ISNT A CASE OF IT HAPPENING ONCE IN A BLUE MOON, ITS SOMETHING I NOTE EVERY TIME I PURCHASE CHICKEN FROM KFC. KFC STRAND(OK CENTRE GORDON`S BAY ROAD) AND THE BRANCH IN MAIN STREET SOMERSET WEST ARE THE WORST. ITS LIKE THEY REALLY DONT WANT TO BE THERE AND DONT CARE HOW THEY SERVE YOU, IT SEEMS A CASE OF “I AM DOING YOU A FAVOUR. LAST TIME I CHECKED IT WAS THE CUSTOMERS WHO ARE DOING THE FRANCHISE A FAVOUR BY SPENDING THEIR MONEY THERE. ATTITUDES STINK AND THE CARDBOARD CRICKET SUPPOSED TOYS STINK!!!!!!!
THE COLONEL MUST BE TURNING IN HIS GRAVE WITH THE WAY THINGS ARE RUNNING. GONE ARE THE DAYS OF KENTUCKY. NOW ITS MORE LIKE KAKEMAS FRIED CHICKEN

PLEASE DONT PAWN OFF CRAP TOYS WITH NO ENTERTAINMENT VALUE ON OUR CHILDREN.
YOURS MISERABLY
MCHAEL B DA SILVA 0789489847 michaelbdasilva@gmail.com

DRESS REHEARSAL

2011-03-12T15:41:00.003+02:00

FINAL DRESS REHEARSAL REMINDER.
With the 8.9 magnitude earthquake and subsequent tsunami in north eastern japan, it is without a doubt a sign of the times that this was a dress rehearsal for december 21st 2012.
With the new zealand quake still fresh in our consciousness, the japan event just proved that something is a happening down there in them tectonic plates. The earth aint happy and is letting us know. The pictures of a wall of water washing over the land and destroying all in its path was awesomely scary! The multitude of toyota cars being chucked around willy nilly by a force of nature so strong was a sight to behold. I suspect the price and availability of japanese cars and spares will be hampered somewhat. Even more unnerving is the nuclear reactors that have been damaged and risk meltdown. The japanese could be facing another hiroshima! Tokyo glows at night due to the billions of light bulbs in advertising billboards, but if the fukushima power plant goes critical, the glow will be a tad different and a shit load more toxic.
Watching the wave tear accross the ocean i could not help but hear the stoner voice of keanu reeves saying "whoa man, surfs up dudes". I am simply waiting for the next catastrophe and so should everyone. Something is happening to the planet and there aint diddeley squat bruce willis, the fantastic 4 or big canoes berthed in the tibetan foothills can do to save us. I am waiting for the inevitable eruption of the yellowstone national park super volcano, its going to happen and its going to wobble the world quite literally. The united states of disney land will cease to exist as we know it. So people, assume the position and kiss your arses goodbye! Personally i am going to move far from the coast and make sure the ground beneath my feet is made of solid grade A rock. I dont want to be washed away by a big ass wave or have my roof collapse on my head due to liquifaction. Oh and i wont be near any valley or hillside either, i dont want to be crushed by a lehar. Shit! There isnt anywhere safe on this (enter your religious deity's name here)Forsaken planet! I hope Elvis swings by in his flying saucer and takes me to his planet.. So people keep a watchout for a natural disaster on your continent and realise that these anomalies are infact a FULL DRESS REHEARSAL for 2012.

Oh,,,, and a quick thought from a pal of mine. Mayan calenders are selling out like there's no tomorrow.

CAPITEC :simplicity is the ultimate sophistication?

2011-02-10T13:40:00.000+02:00

SIMPLICITY IS THE ULTIMATE COMPLICATION

THE ADVERT FOR THE CAPITEC BANK GROUP IS QUITE A GOOD ONE, THE DUDE EXPLAINS THE BENEFITS OF USING TILLS AS THE NEXT ATM`S, EXTENDED BANKING HOURS, LOWEST RATES AND WHAT HAVE YOU. I AM SUITABLY IMPRESSED AND RUSH OFF TO MY NEAREST BRANCH AND OPEN MY NEW SAVINGS ACCOUNT. AFTER MY BRIEF ENCOUNTER AT THE SERVICE ADVISOR, BIOMETRIC FINGER PRINT SCAN GOOFY PICTURE UPLOAD I AM ISSUED WITH MY CARD! WAHOO.. SIMPLICITY!
HOWEVER,,,,,,,, I NOTE THAT CAPITEC ONLY OFFERS A SAVINGS ACCOUNT AND NO OTHER TYPES OF ACCOUNT SERVICES. I SUSPECT THAT ALL CASH DEPOSITED INTO CAPITEC IS PLACED INTO A SINGULAR SAVINGS ACCOUNT LIKE A GIANT STOKVEL OF SORTS, OR AT LEAST THIS IS WHAT I UNDERSTAND FROM THE SERVICE ADVISOR ANYWAYS. NO WORRIES, I PUT DOUBT ASIDE AND VENTURE OFF WITH MY CARD IN WALLET.

NOW HERE COMES THE SIMPLICITY IS THE ULTIMATE COMPLICATION PART TO THIS TALE. I WENT TO DEPOSIT MONIES AT THE SOMERSET WEST BRANCH IN THE VINEYARD SHOPPING CENTRE AND WAS GREETED BY A LOCKED DOOR WITH SEEMINGLY WORRIED FACES INSIDE THE BRANCH. BY THE WAY IT WAS 09H15. I SOON SUSSED THE SITUATION OUT AS THUS: THE FELLOWS FROM COIN CASH IN TRANSIT HAD ARRIVED AND WERE OBVIOUSLY "UPLIFTING" CASH FROM THE BRANCH AND HAD LOCKED THE BRANCH DOWN FOR "SECURITY' PURPOSES. ALL FINE AND WELL EXCEPT IF YOU ARE ONE OF THE 20 CUSTOMERS BEING HELD INSIDE. YES, THEY WERE NOT ALLOWING ANYONE TO LEAVE THE BANK WHILE THE CASH IN TRANSIT CLAN WERE BUSY INSIDE THE BRANCH. NEEDLESS TO SAY THIS WAS MUCH TO THE CHAGRIN OF THOSE BEING HELD AGAINST THEIR WILL INSIDE THE BRANCH. THIS ACT WAS TANTAMOUNT TO ILLEGAL DETENTION. I HAVE YET TO SEE ANY OTHER BANKING INSTITUTION SHUTTING UP SHOP AND HOLDING THEIR CUSTOMERS HOSTAGE FOR 20 MINUTES WHILE SBV, COIN OR THOSE CHUMPS FROM "THE FATALITY GUARDS" TRANSFER CASH TO AND FRO FROM THEIR ARMOURED CAR TO THE BANK. THIS WAS UNPROFESSIONAL AND SCREAMED OVERKILL. ANY WOULD BE ROBBERS WOULD HAVE SIMPLY WAITED FOR THE BRANCH TO RE-OPEN AND NAILED THE CASH IN TRANSIT DUDES AS THEY SAUNTERED OUT TO THE ARMOURED CAR ALL BUNCHED UP AND SURROUNDED BY STRESSED MEMBERS OF THE PUBLIC WAITING IN THEIR DROVES OUTSIDE THE DOOR. WITH THE OUTFLUX OF CUSTOMERS ALL FUMING MAD AFTER BEING HELD AGAINST THEIR WILL IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY FOR ANY WOULD BE ROBBERS TO MAKE USE OF THIS SITUATION TO EMPLOY DIVERSIONARY TACTICS TO PULL OFF A HEIST, A FEW RANDOM GUNSHOTS WOULD SEND THE PUBLIC INTO A FRENZY AND AID IN THE GETAWAY. LOCKING DOWN THE BRANCH WITH CUSTOMERS INSIDE AND REFUSING TO RELEASE THEM WAS BAD BUSINESS AND EQUALLY BAD JUDGEMENT. THE BRANCH MANAGER MUST HAVE THOUGHT HE WAS DOING A CLEVER THING BUT IN FACT HE WAS ERRONEOUS IN HIS DECISION. MORE HARM WAS MADE BY STRESSING OUT "TRAPPED" PEOPLE. I BELIEVE HIS REASONING WAS SECURITY BECAUSE OF THE BRANCH`S LOCATION NEAR A TAXI RANK AND SHOPRITE AND THE GENERAL CLIENTELE THE CENTRE SEEMS TO HAVE. IF THIS IS TRUE IT THEN SMACKS OF RACISM PLAIN AND SIMPLE.!KEEP IN MIND THAT BANKS GET ROBBED IN ALL NEIGHBORHOODS AND ANY SHOPPING CENTRE OPEN TO ATTACK, BE IT THE VINEYARD, SOMERSET MALL, EASTGATE, NOTHGATE, SOUTHGATE, WESTGATE, THE GATEWAY, THE FRONT GATE, THE BACK GATE ETC. IS SECURITY MEASURES LIKE THAT ARE A SLIPPERY SLOPE INDEED. I WILL NEVER GO BACK TO THAT BRANCH IN THE FEARS OF BEING DETAINED AND WASTE OTHERWISE VALUABLE TIME WAITING FOR THE BANKING STAFF AND CASH IN TRANSIT CROWD TO FINISH FANNYING ABOUT BEFORE FREEING ME FROM UNLAWFUL DETENTION. THIS IS THE MOST UNPROFESSIONAL CONDUCT I HAVE SEEN IN A BANK IN AGES.PLEASE ADDRESS THIS SILLY ANNOYING AND POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS PRACTICE. DONT CREATE A HOSTAGE SCENARIO BELIEVING ERRONEOUSLY THAT I5T IS A WISE PRACTICE. IT AINT!!

THUS AND THEREFORE

SIMPLICITY IS THE ULTIMATE COMPLICATION
MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com

TALLA`S

2011-01-18T08:39:00.002+02:00

TALLA`S se BALLAS

Another tale of crappy service from the “fairest cape”

YIP ITS YET ANOTHER GORY STORY OF CRAPPY SERVICE IN AN OTHERWISE IDYLLIC SETTING KNOWN AS THE HELDEBERG REGION INCORPORATING SOMERSET WEST, STRAND, GORDON`S BAY AND A ONE HORSE TOWN CALLED GRABOUW. REALLY, ITS A ONE HORSE TOWN AND I THINK IT IS ACTUALLY A MULE.
THIS PARTICULAR STORY PLAYS ITSELF OUT IN GORDON`S BAY AT A LOCAL HAUNT KNOWN AS TALLA`S TAVERN. A RESTAURANT / BAR THAT HOLDS ITSELF AS THE PLACE TO BE. THE PLACE HAS TALENT DONT GET ME WRONG. IT IS BOUNDING WITH POSSIBILITIES AND SCREAMING TO BE GENUINELY COOL. UNFORTUNATELY AS WITH A LOT OF PLACES DOWN HERE IT IS LET DOWN BY ABOMINABLE SERVICE AND AN ABANDONMENT APPROACH TO MANAGEMENT. THE OWNERS SHOULD REALLY BE SUING FOR MAINTENANCE OF SOME SORT. THAT IS OF COURSE THE OWNERS GIVE A SHIT?!. IT SERIOUSLY LOOKS AS IF THEY DONT JUDGING BY THE “WHATEVER” ATTITUDE DISPLAYED BY NOT ONLY THEMSELVES BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY THEIR FRONT LINE STAFF, THE WAITRESSES, BAR KEEP, KITCHEN STAFF AND THE PERSON MASQUERADING AS THE MANAGER. THIS MAKE BELIEVE MANAGER SHOULD BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED FOR ALLOWING HIS SUBORDINATES TO DISPENSE HORRIFIC LEVELS OF SERVICE TO THE PAYING PUBLIC. THE PUBLIC ARE THE VERY PEOPLE WHO ENSURE HIS AND HIS STAFF MEMBERS SALARIES (D` OH).
IT ALL STARTED ONE SUNDAY WHEN WE WERE GOING TO THE BEACH DURING THE DECEMBER HOLIDAYS, THE WEATHER WAS ERRATIC AS USUAL ( SUNNY, HOT, WINDY, OVERCAST, CLEAR,COOL) ALL IN A DAY. IT MADE SENSE TO HEAD OFF TO A PLACE WHERE WE COULD ENJOY A LIGHT MEAL AND A WETTY. THE SPUR AS USUAL WAS FULL TO THE RAFTERS SO WE DECIDED ON TALLA`S ACCROSS THE ROAD. THE BEACH IS A MERE HOP SKIP & JUMP FROM THEIR DOOR, WHAT A BONUS! WE SAUNTERED IN AND STOOD AROUND LIKE LOST TOURISTS FOR A WHILE BEFORE BEING NOTICED BY THE STAFF, WE WERE HERDED IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF OUR TABLE AND LEFT FOR 10 MINUTES BEFORE SOMEONE GRACED US WITH THEIR PRESENCE TO GET A DRINK ORDER. ALREADY I AM ANNOYED BY THE RECEPTION PARTY, I CAN JUST IMAGINE WHAT THE SERVICE IS GOING TO BE LIKE. I WAS NOT LEFT WANDERING FOR LONG AS THE TABLE ADJACENT TO US WAS FREQUENTED BY A GROUP OF OBVIOUS “TOURISTS” “OUTIES” IF YOU WILL WHO WERE SITTING IN A STRANGE SILENCE AS IF JUST ABDUCTED BY ALIENS, YOU KNOW THE WEIRD FEELING OF DISBELIEF AND DETACHMENT FROM REALITY . THEY HAD THE SAME WAITRESS THAT HAD POINTED US TO OUR AREA WITH A FINGER POINTY GESTURE AND INAUDIBLE BABBLE UNDER HER BREATH. IT IS NOTEWORTHY THAT WE ARE NOT OUTIES, WE ARE LOCALS AND ALL THESE BUSINESSES RELY ON LOCALS DURING THE YEAR TO SURVIVE. THE HOLIDAYS ARE JUST A BONUS. ANYWAYS, BACK TO THIS WOMAN THAT PRETENDS THAT SHE WORKS IN THE ESTABLISHMENT, I SAY THIS BECAUSE SHE UNCEREMONIOUSLY DUMPED THE TOURISTS PLATES IN FRONT OF THEM PUTTING THE WRONG DISH IN FRONT OF ONE PERSON AND NOT BOTHERING TO PICK IT UP AND PLACE IT IN FRONT OF ITS REAL OWNER, THE MAN AT THE TABLE WAS LEFT WITH THIS TASK. SHE HAD NOT PREPPED THE TABLE OR EVEN LEFT “TOOLS” KNIVES AND FORKS ON THE TABLE SO ONCE ALL THE PLATES WERE ON THE TABLE THE MAN THEN ASKED FOR CUTLERY WHICH SHE PICKED UP OFF THE NEXT TABLE WHICH HAD NOT BEEN WIPED AND SHOWED EVIDENCE OF THE PRIOR MEAL STILL CAKED ON THE TABLE TOP. WITHOUT ADDRESSING THE PATRONS OR WISHING THEM A PLEASENT MEAL SHE DISSAPPEARED LIKE MIST IN THE SUN. THE MAN AT THE TABLE HAD TO GET UP AND WALK OVER TO THE WAITER STATION PLACE AND FETCH HIS OWN SERVIETTES. VERY PROFESSIONAL OF THIS WAITRESS INDEED.

NOW IT WAS OUR TURN, 10 MINUTES ELAPSED AND OUR WAITRESS ARRIVED WITH OUR DRINKS, THE MAN AT THE TABLE ADJACENT TO US GOT UP AGAIN TO FETCH SOME CONDIMENTS WHICH WERE NOT ON THE TABLE AS ONE EXPECTS, YOU KNOW SALT AND PEPPER! WE PERUSED THE MENU WHICH IS NOT THE CHEAPEST ONE WE HAVE SEEN IN QUITE A WHILE, BUT WHAT GOT ME WAS THE “RULES” AS IT WERE ON THE FIRST PAGE. THEY READ SOMETHING AS SUCH. TABLES OF 6 OR MORE A TIP WILL AUTOMATICALLY BE ADDED TO THE BILL FOR THE WAITRON. WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT!!!! THIS IS ERRONEOUS AT BEST AS IT ALMOST OPENLY ENCOURAGES BAD SERVICE. HEY, THE WAITRESS WILL GET A GENEROUS TIP WHETHER THE COW DESERVES IT OR NOT. THIS IS UTTER BULL SHIT. THIS MERELY ALLOWS HER TO BE LAZY, RUDE AND HIGHLY INEFFECTIVE WHICH THIS DOLLY BIRD WAS AND THEN AUTOMATICALLY BE REWARDED FOR SHIT SERVICE BY HER BOSSES WHO INSTITUTED THIS DILLY PRACTICE IN THE FIRST PLACE. BEING INVISIBLE THE OWNERS AND MANAGER DONT OBVIOUSLY SEE THIS TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE TAKING PLACE. THE SECOND ITEM THAT ANNOYED ME ON THEIR LAWS LIST WAS THAT PEOPLE WILL BE PENALISED IF THEY SHARE A MEAL. ITS NOT THE AMOUNT THAT IS ASKED AS YOUR FINE FOR SHARING IT IS THE PRICIPLE OF THE THING. THIS ESTABLISHMENT IS NOT A FANCY ALA CARTE SNOOTY FRENCH RESTAURANT, IT IS A BAR AND RESTAURANT WITH THE EMPHASIS IT SEEMS ON THE BAR. THE SECTION WE SAT IN ALONG WITH THE OUTIES WAS EMPTY, JUST THE TWO TABLES AND THE WAITRESS WAS NOT KEEN ON SERVING THIS AREA AS SHE KNEW HER TIP WAS ASSURED AND WANTED TO HANG IN THE HAPPENNING SECTION BY THE BAR AND OUTSIDE VARANDA WHERE SHE COULD BE STYLING WITH HER SUNGLASSES PERCHED ATOP HER HEAD. AFTER DECIDING NOT TO ORDER FOOD AND BY DEFAULT PAY A FINE BECAUSE WE WANTED TO SHARE A SNACK BEFORE HEADING TO THE BEACH WE CALLED FOR THE BILL WHICH LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE TOOK ITS SWEET TIME. WHEN I FINALLY LEFT THE OUTIES WERE STILL AT THEIR TABLE WHICH HAD NOT BEEN CLEARED YET, THEY HAD FINISHED A WHILE BACK AND THE ODD FLY WAS PULLING IN FOR THEIR LUNCHEON LEFT OVERS. THE OUTIE THEN “BUSSED” HIS OWN DISHES TO THE NEXT TABLE. THE WAITRESS HAD NOT EVEN BOTHERED TO SWING BY BETWEEN CONVERSATIONS ABOUT WHATEVER BIMBO`S TALK ABOUT IN THE HAPPENING SECTION WITH EACH OTHER TO ENQUIRE IF THE MEAL WAS LEKKER OR TO CLEAR THE DISHES!! THIS COW IS ENSURED A TIP FOR THIS LEVEL OF UNCARING, INEFFICIENCY, BLATANT RUDENESS AND DERELICTION OF DUTY.! IN THE MILITARY PEOPLE LIKE THIS ARE PUT IN FRONT OF A FIRING SQUAD NOT REWARDED.
I WOULD NOT GIVE THIS WAITRESS THE CLAP LET ALONE A TIP!!!!!!!

WE MUST ALL KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS PARTICULAR ESTABLISHMENT IS CALLED “TALLA`S TAVERN” AND IN NO WAYS IS A FANCY SCHMANCY RESTAURANT. THE BAR KEEP LOOKS LIKE HE HAS PROGRESSED ONE STEP UP THE EVOLUTIONARY SCALE JUST PAST NEANDERTHAL( BUT ONLY JUST). THE WAITRESSES ARE FASHION STATEMENTS WITH ITSY BITSY BRAINS AND CRAP ATTITUDES( WHO LOOK LIKE THEY DONT WANT TO BE THERE) , THE MANAGER DOESNT LOOK LIKE HE COULD RUN A TEMPERATURE LET ALONE A RESTAURANT/BAR AND THE OWNERS ARE “ABSENTEE LANDLORDS”, THEY HAVE BY DEFAULT LET THE INMATES RUN THE ASYLUM. TO ADD TO THE BROTH IS THE “CAR GUARD” DUDE THAT APPARENTLY LOOKS AFTER THE CARS IN THE VACANT LOT NEXT TO TALLA`S AT THE DECEMBER COST OF R30! EXTORTION JUMPS TO MIND. NOW IF YOU FREQUENT TALLA`S THEN THE PARKING IS FREE AND YOU HAVE THE PEACE OF MIND THAT A MAN CALLED “BAKSTEEN” IS LOOKING AFTER YOUR WHEELS. I AM SORRY TO REPORT BUT THIS DUDE IS ONE DRUNKEN STEP FROM BEING CLASSED A FULLY BLOWN HOBO, HIS BREATH ALONE IS ENOUGH TO SCORCH THE CLEAR COAT OFF YOUR CAR , SINGE YOUR EYEBROWS AND CURL YOUR TOE NAILS. THE PAPSAK WINE OOZES FROM EVERY PORE. I WOULDNT TRUST THIS MAN TO LOOK AFTER A RATTLESNAKE LET ALONE SOMEONES CAR! NOW IF YOU TELL BAKSTEEN THAT YOU ARE GOING TO TALLA`S HE WILL LET YOU PARK FREE OF CHARGE , PROBLEM BEING THAT MANY PEOPLE JUST SAY THEY ARE GOING TO TALLA`S AND THEN GO TO THE SPUR LIKE WE DID THE NEXT SUNDAY, HOWEVER I DECIDED TO BE HONEST AND TELL BAKSTEEN THAT I AM GOING TO SPUR AND THE BEACH AND I PAID THE R30 EXTORTION FEE. NOW I KNOW BAKSTEEN POCKETED THE R30 BECAUSE ONCE I PAID HIM HE SAID TO ME TO SAY I WENT TO TALLA`S WHEN I GET BACK SO AS TO “LEGITIMISE” HIM POCKETING THE R30, THEORETICALLY IT ISNT STEALING THEN AS I SAID I WENT TO TALLA`S EVEN THOUGH I PAID HIM AND EXPRESSLY TOLD HIM I WAS NOT FREQUENTING TALLA`S BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT CHILD FRIENDLY NOR DO THEY HAVE FRIENDLY SERVICE IN GENERAL. THERE IS NOTHING FRIENDLY ABOUT THE PLACE AND MY EXPERIENCE AS A WHOLE OF TALLA`S WAS TERRIBLE AND I MOST DEFINATELY WONT BE GOING BACK THERE OR LEAVING ONE CENT IN THE PLACE. MY FINAL WORDS ON THIS MISERABLE EXPERIENCE IS ,

TALLA`S se BALLAS!!!

MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847
http://michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com 17/01/2011

PICK `N PRAY

2011-01-03T10:21:00.000+02:00

FOR ATTENTION: THE AREA MANAGER WESTERN CAPE (GORDON`S BAY)
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE`S

SOMETHING IS ROTTEN IN DENMARK

PICK `N PRAY

GADZOOKS YOUR STORE STINKS!

I AM WRITING THIS EMAIL TO YOU TO COMPLAIN BITTERLY ABOUT THE SAD STATE OF AFFAIRS AT YOUR GORDON`S BAY BRANCH OF PICK N PAY. I WAS HOPING THAT THE PROBLEM WOULD BE FLEETING AND MAYBE JUST A ONCE OFF FAUX PAS ON BEHALF OF THE MANAGEMENT TEAM AT THE STORE, BUT ALAS IT SEEMS THE MANAGERS AND OWNER (IF THERE IS ONE) ARE NOTHING MORE THAN ABSENTEE LANDLORDS SO TO SAY.

A PONG OF BIBLICAL PROPORTIONS IS EMINATING FROM THE STORE THAT IS MAKING IT IMPOSSIBLE TO FREQUENT THE STORE WITHOUT WANTING TO VOMIT. THIS IS NOT AN OVER EXXAGERATION OR HYPERBOLE. THE STINK IS ONE OF DECOMPOSING MEAT KEPT IN A WARM UNAIRED PLACE. THE STENCH IS EVIDENT FROM WHEN YOUR PROBOSCIS HITS THE ENTRANCE. A VISITORS FIRST SENSORY ASSAULT COMES FROM THE SMELLY BILTONG SHOP JUST OUTSIDE THE DOOR OF THE PICK N PAY. I HAVE LONG SINCE STOPPED GOING INTO THIS LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS DUE TO THE SMELL WHICH SCREAMS “ I SELL OLD OFF MEAT”. THE SECOND ECHELON OF OLFACTORY ASSAULT COMES FROM THE STAFF MEMBER FRYING SOMETHING AKIN TO WORS, I WONT GO AS FAR AS CALLING IT BOEREWORS, THAT WOULD BE AN INSULT TO BOERE AND THE ANIMALS THAT WILLINGLY OR OTHERWISE GAVE UP THEIR LIVES TO PROVIDE US HUMANS WITH LIFE SUSTAINING FOOD. THE PLOY OF HAVING “BOERIE” ROLLS ON SALE AT THE DOOR IS IN MY MIND A CUNNING WAY TO COVER UP THE OBVIOUS FOUL ODOUR THAT RESIDES WITHIN THE STORE, LURKING IN THE HUMID PLACES. ONCE YOU HAVE MADE YOUR WAY PAST THE DOOR AND HEAD TOWARD THE REAR OF THE SHOP YOU ARE MUGGED BY THE STINK THAT JUMPS OUT AT YOU FROM THE BUTCHERY SECTION! IT IS A DISGRACE THAT MANAGEMENT CAN ALLOW SUCH A HONK TO BE SO OVERPOWERING IN THEIR STORE. HAS ANYONE THERE HEARD OF SALMONELLA AND THE HOST OF OTHER DISEASES SPREAD BY MEAT IN VARYING DEGREES OF DECOMPOSITION!?

NOW I KNOW THAT MEAT IS ODOROUS AND IS OBVIOUSLY VERY DEAD WHEN THE STORE RECEIVES IT HOWEVER THAT IS NO EXCUSE FOR THE KIND OF STINK THAT THE CUSTOMERS ARE EXPOSED TO AT THE GORDON`S BAY OUTLET. AFTER REFUSING TO GO BACK INTO THE SHOP I AM LEFT WITH HAVING TO TRAVEL SIX KILOMETRES TO YOUR STRAND STORE WHICH STRANGELY ENOUGH DOESNT STINK LIKE THE OBVIOUSLY MALMANAGED GORDON`S BAY ONE. THIS PEAVES ME OFF BECAUSE I LIVE 500 METRES FROM THE GORDON`S BAY BRANCH BUT CANNOT AND WILL NOT FREQUENT DUE TO THE FEAR THAT I WILL BUY CONTAMINATED MEAT!!!!! THE STORE IS A DISGRACE AND FINDING A MANAGER IS APPARENTLY MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. WHERE IS THE QUALITY CONTROL???? I HAVE DEDUCED THAT IT SEEMS IT HAS GONE ON HOLIDAY.
I MOVED HERE FROM JOHANNESBURG 6MONTHS AGO AND I AM DUMBSTRUCK BY THE DIFFERENCES IN SERVICE LEVELS BETWEEN UP THERE AND DOWN HERE. IT SEEMS TO ME THAT GROCERY STORES SUCH AS YOURSELF, CHECKERS AND SPAR ARE ONLY CATERING GOOD QUALITY SERVICE FOR THE JOHANNESBURG MARKET AND THE SCREW YOU ATTITUDE IS EMPLOYED DOWN HERE. ARE WE CONSIDERED LOWER ON THE SOCIAL SCALE THAN OUR INLAND COUSINS?. ? . ?. OR,,, DO THEY COMPLAIN MORE THUS RECEIVING BETTER SERVICE? ONE MORE THING TO PAY ATTENTION TO IS THE CASHIERS. THEY ARE NOT UP TO MUSTER. I HAVE COMPLAINED TO CHECKERS ABOUT THEIR SERVICE AT ONE OF THE STORES IN THE AREA. YOUR CASHIERS SUFFER FROM THE SAME SICKNESS AS THOSE AT THE CHECKERS I MENTIONED. THEY TREAT THE CUSTOMER LIKE THEY ARE DOING US A FAVOUR. JUST BY THE WAY, THEY ARENT! SOMEONE NEEDS TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY ARE THERE TO WORK AND NOT HAVE INVOLVED CONVERSATIONS WITH EACH OTHER AND THE PACKERS ABOUT WHAT THEY DID LAST NIGHT OR GRIPE ABOUT THEIR BOYFRIEND AND HIS “BRASSE”. I DONT GIVE A FART ABOUT THEIR PROBLEMS. I AM THERE SPENDING MY MONEY AND BY DEFAULT PAYING THEIR SALARY. THE STORE IS NOT A PASSING TRADE BUSINESS AND RELIES ON CONTINUED PATRONAGE. IF TEN PEOPLE A DAY DECIDE TO RATHER DRIVE TO STRAND WHERE THE SERVICE IS BETTER AND SHOP FRESHER, THE GORDON`S BAY STORE WILL NO LONGER BE PROFITABLE ENOUGH TO CARRY ON TRADING, PAY RENT (WHICH I AM SURE IS QUITE STEEP PROPABLY IN THE 50 GRAND A MONTH NEIGHBOUROOD CONSERVATIVELY) & ENSURE SALARIES. 10 CUSTOMERS A DAY OVER ONE YEAR EQUALS? YOU DO THE MATH.. YOUR MANAGERS NEED TO BE MORE VISIBLE AND MANAGE THE TEAM NOT FRATERNISE WITH THEM. LEAD BY EXAMPLE AND CATER TO THE NEEDS AND CONCERNS OF THE CUSTOMERS. I COULD NOT BRING UP THE STINK ISSUE WITH ANYONE INSTORE AS I COULD NO LONGER TOLERATE THE SMELL OR FIND ANYONE OTHER THAN SHELF PACKERS WHO WERE TOO BUSY LISTENING TO MUSIC ON THEIR CELL PHONES. SO I CIRCUMVENTED THE CHAIN OF COMMAND AND HAVE THUS LODGED MY GRIPE DIRECTLY WITH YOU.......
PLEASE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE CLEANLINESS OF THE STORE IN QUESTION, THE SERVICE AND KICK THE MANAGEMENT TEAM INTO FIRST GEAR. THIS WHOLE “OH ITS A CAPE TOWN THING” IS BALONEY. BUSINESS IS BUSINESS. IT APPEARS TO ME THAT EVERYONE DOWN HERE IN THE WESTERN CAPE WANT TO BE PAID IN JOBURG TIME (IE. ON TIME) BUT WANT TO WORK AT THIS BULLSHIT CAPE TOWN TIME. BALDERDASH. I REITERATE... BUSINESS IS BUSINESS. WHETHER I LIVE IN GLENVISTA, CRESTA, BALLITO, GORDON`S BAY OR POFADDER I EXPECT AND DESERVE GOOD SERVICE AND A HEALTHY CLEAN ENVIRONMENT TO SPEND MY MONEY IN. I CANNOT BELEIVE THAT SERVICE CAN BE SO VASTLY DIFFERENT FROM PROVINCE TO PROVINCE, WE ARE ALL STILL PART OF THE REPUBLIC LAST TIME I CHECKED.

Ps: IT IS NOTEWORTHY MENTIONING THAT BESIDES THE STRAND BRANCH, YOUR SOMERSET WEST STORE ALTHOUGH “CRAPPY” LOOKING HAS THE BEST SERVICE I HAVE ENCOUNTERED SO FAR. THE ONLY STAFF MEMBER THAT I CAN HONESTLY SAY IS AN ASSET AT THE GORDON`S BAY BRANCH IS THE YOUNGSTER AT THE LOTTO COUNTER, I BELEIVE HER NAME IS “CHARNE`” OR SOMETHING TO THAT EFFECT. IT IS JUST SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE TO SCHLEP 5.5 KILOMETRES PAST THE NEAREST BRANCH TO DO SHOPPING IN STRAND AND 10 CLICKS TO SOMERSET WEST . IT IS RIDICULOUS TO LIVE 500 METRES AWAY FROM A STORE THAT I WONT GO BACK INTO ON FEARS OF CONTAMINATED MEAT. OH, AND I AM NOT BEING MELODRAMATIC, MEAT AND FOOD POISONING IS A REALITY AND THE AFTER SHOCKS TO THE GROUP WILL BE DEVASTATING IF SOMEONE HAD TO BRING ABOUT A SUIT DUE TO UNCLEANLINESS AND HEALTH ISSUES ARISING FROM NEGLECT. I AM SURE YOU CONCUR?

YOURS MISERABLY:
MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com
michaelbdasilva@gmail.com

ETV - MY NAME AINT EARL

2010-10-29T13:49:00.004+02:00

MY NAME AINT EARL!

ETV`s DASTARDLY PLAN TO DUMB US ALL UP!

THIS IS A DECLARATION OF INTENT TO ENLIGHTEN THE GENERAL PUBLIC OF AN EVIL PLOT BEING HATCHED AND PERPETRATED BY THOSE IN “POWER” AT THE STATION THAT TOUTS ITSELF AS “BE FREE ON E” ON INNOCENT UNSUSPECTING VIEWERS. A PLAN SO DASTARDLY THAT IT SHOULD BE INVESTIGATED AND PROSECUTED BY THE INTERNATIONAL COURT IN THE HAGUE! PROGRAMMING ON E IS SO BAD IT SHOULD BE CLASSIFIED AS A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY AND GOOD TASTE!

THIS “EXPOSE`” IS MERELY THE START OF A CAMPAIGN TO RID OUR TELEVISION CHANNELS OF MINDLESS ROT. THE VIEWING PUBLIC DESERVES TO BE GENUINELY ENTERTAINED AND SPARED OF UNECCESARY STUPIDITY, ATROCIOUS ACTING, SENSLESS VIOLENCE AND PROGRAMMING THAT IS REPETITIVE IN NATURE AND ATTEMPTING TO CREATE REDNECKS OUT OF ALL OF US. BY THIS I AM POINTING DIRECTLY AT YOUR CONSTANT BARRAGE OF WWE WRESTLING THAT IS AIRED EVERY SINGLE FRIKKIN DAY AD NAUSEUM . PLEASE SHOW ME YOUR STUDY OF THE DEMOGRAPHIC OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEGGED YOU TO RUN THIS TERRIBLE SHOW EVERY SINGLE DAY, MULTIPLE TIMES A DAY ? PLEASE , I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE STUDY THAT CONFIRMS THAT YOUR VIEWERS WANT TO WATCH THIS SHIT 3 TIMES A DAY. PLEASE INDULGE ME. DOES SOUTH AFRICA INDEED HAVE A SECRET SOCIETY OF REDNECKS LIVING AMONG US? IF SO, WHY THE HELL ARE THEY BEING SO WELL CATERED FOR? WHOSE POCKET ARE THEY LINING? OR,,, DOES THE “BE FREE WITH E” CHANNEL HAVE A SERIOUS CASH FLOW PROBLEM LEADING TO THE CURRENT LACK OF DECENT PROGRAMMING? THIS CULTURE OF TRASH BEING UNLOADED UPON US IS NOT EXCLUSIVE TO WRESTLING BUT ALSO TO THE LOCAL RUBBISH THAT IS AIRED DAILY, MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU HAVE TERRIBLE LOCAL PROGRAMMES THAT ALL SEEM TO CENTRE AROUND VIOLENCE, ABUSE, DRUGS, RAPE, TERRIBLE ACTING AND WAFER THIN PLOT LINES. WHY DO THE TELEVISION CHANNELS IN THIS COUNTRY ALL HARP ON OVERLY NEGATIVE THEMES ALL THE TIME, IS IT BECAUSE SOUTH AFRICA IS A SICK PLACE? IF SO, WHY CANT THE INDUSTRY TRY AND MAKE SOMETHING LIGHT HEARTED AND ENTERTAINING WITHOUT THE REALLY BAD “THEATRE” ACTING AND FACE PULLING PERFECTED BY THE LOCAL INDUSTRY. SOUTH AFRICANS DESERVE BETTER AND I WANT TO LEAD THE PEOPLE IN REVOLT OF THE REVOLTING PROGRAMMING DUMPED ON US. WE MUST BOYCOTT TILL OUR DEMANDS ARE MET. NO MORE WWE WRESTLING! NO MORE TRASHY THIRD RATE LOCAL JUNK! NO MORE B GRADE MOVIES THAT ARE ON RENTAL AT VIDEO STORES FOR TEN RAND. IF I WANT TO WATCH SHIT I WILL GO AND RENT IT FROM THE “ NOBODY WATCHES THIS RUBBISH” SHELF. THE LOCAL DRIVVEL WE ARE FORCE FED IS FROT AND LEAVES A BAD TASTE IN THE MOUTH. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO HAVE THREE LOCAL EL CHEAPO SOAP OPERAS IN ONE DAY AND THEN RUN THEM TWICE? WATCHING E TV IS AKIN TO GROUNDHOG DAY! FURTHERMORE, IT HAS BECOME EVIDENT THAT ACCORDING TO YOUR DEMOGRAPHIC STUDY, ALL SOUTH AFRICANS ARE FANS OF R&B AND KWAITO. IF YOU HELD A SURVEY I WAS NOT POLLED OR WAS ANYONE I KNOW AND ANYONE THEY KNOW. SO WHERE DID YOU CONDUCT THIS SURVEY?
I TAKE OFFENCE TO THE INSINUATION THAT WE ARE ALL REDNECKS LIKE DEAR OLD EARL AND ALL WE WANT IS TO BE TORTURED DAILY BY AN OBVIOUSLY RIGGED SIDESHOW CIRCUS ACT KNOWN AS WWE WRESTLING. I JUST WANT TO POINT OUT THAT WE (THE GENERAL VIEWING PUBLIC) ARE NOT THE SAME AS THE REDNECKS YOU SEE YELLING AND SCREAMING IN THE ARENA`S. OK, I ADMIT, THERE ARE A FEW DIM BULBS IN THIS COUNTRY WHO LOVE WATCHING WWE HOWEVER I AM PRETTY SURE THEY ARE A MINORITY AND I THOUGHT THAT SOUTH AFRICA WAS PAST ALL THIS MINORITY RULE BUSINESS.... AM I WRONG?
I PROPOSE YOU PUT IT TO A VOTE. LET THE VIEWERS DECIDE IF THEY WANT TO WATCH CRAP. IF THEY VOTE AND THEY DO THEN I WILL DESIST AND SET FIRE TO MY T.V LICENCE AND FLOG MY “ROTBOX” - - THATS IF THE VOTING IS INDEED “FREE” AND FAIR.

PLEASE. PLEASE. SAVE US FROM ALL BECOMING DUMB REDNECKS! DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR PROGRAMMING DIRECTOR OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU CALL HIM. , SEND HIM INTO EXILE AND ALLOW US TO ENJOY ENTERTAINING ,EDUCATIONAL, RELEVANT TELEVISION. I AM APPEALING TO YOU LOT AS I KNOW IT IS FUTILE TO EVEN REQUEST THAT THE SABC UP THEIR GAME. IT IS EVIDENT THAT BEING PART OF THE PARASTATAL “DEMONCRATIC” GOVERNMENT IT WOULD BE POINTLESS TO DEMAND THAT THE SABC CHANGE THEIR ERRING WAYS, MAYBE JUST MAYBE YOU WILL PROVE TO BE UNBIASED AND FLEXIBLE TO THE NEEDS AND REQUESTS OF YOUR VIEWERS. A WARNING THOUGH. KEEP IT UP AND I WILL HAVE NO ALTERNATIVE BUT TO EMBARK ON A CAMPAIGN OF ENLIGHTENMENT THROUGH ACTIVE VOCIFEROUS PROTESTATION. HELL, I WILL EVEN TRY AND GET JULIUS TO JOIN MY CAUSE, ITS A LONG SHOT I KNOW BUT I AM MERELY DEMONSTRATING THE LENGTHS I AM WILLING TO GO TO GET SOUTH AFRICAN TELEVISION WATCHABLE, EVEN IF IT MEANS SINKING TO DESPICABLE DEPTHS OF DEPRAVITY AND SOLICITING THE VOCAL AND ORATORY “TALENTS” OF JULIUS MALEMA.

PLEASE STOP POISONING OUR MINDS. ENTERTAIN US DAMMIT!!!!!!!
MICHAEL B DA SILVA
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com
PS# please note that under our constitution i have the right to freedom of speech and a whole lot of other stuff. 29/10/10

checkers your attitudes

2010-10-27T18:19:00.001+02:00

FOR ATTENTION: AREA MANAGER (SOMERSET WEST)
WHY DOTH THY SERVICE SUCK?

THIS IS LETTER OF FRUSTRATION AND COMPLAINT!

I HAVE A COMPLAINT PERTAINING TO YOUR STORE IN SOMERSET WEST AND WHAT I SEE AS A RIDICULOUS OPERATING SYSTEM AT YOUR TILL POINTS, IT IS AN ONGOING PROBLEM AND I AM READY TO SIMPLY TAKE MY HARD EARNED CASH ELSEWHERE.
THE PROBLEMS ARE NOT LOCALISED TO JUST ONE STORE IN ONE GEOGRAPHIC AREA BUT THE STORE IN SOMERSET WEST (MAIN AND CALEDON STREETS) IS TRYING ON MY SOUL AND THOSE OF OTHER CUSTOMERS I HAVE NOTICED.

FIRSTLY. I RELOCATED TO THE AREA IN JULY 2010 FROM JOHANNESBURG. I LIVED ACCROSS THE WAY FROM CRESTA SHOPPING CENTRE AND WAS ACCUSTOMED TO YOUR CRESTA BRANCH. THE SERVICE WAS EXCELLENT, THE MANAGERS HELPFUL AND ON THE BALL. THE SHELVES WERE DECENTLY STOCKED AND ORGANISED. NOW I DO REALISE THERE IS SOME SUPPOSED “CAPE TOWN” EXCUSE THAT IS TOUTED AS THE REASON THAT THINGS WORK A TAD SLOWER AND LESS EFFICIENT HERE. PERSONALLY I BELIEVE THIS TO BE RUBBISH AND A “KAK” EXCUSE FOR SUPPLYING BAD SERVICE BECAUSE EVERYONE FROM THE MANAGER ON DOWN ARE SIMPLY LAZY. I HAVE NEVER EXPERIENCED SUCH RUDE SERVICE FROM A CASHIER AS I GET DOWN HERE IN GENERAL BUT ESPECIALLY FROM YOUR SOMERSET WEST STORE. WHAT YOUR CASHIERS DONT SEEM TO GRASP IS THAT THEY ARE NOT DOING ME(THE CUZZIE) ANY FAVOURS. IT IS THEIR JOB TO ENSURE THAT I AM FEELING GOOD WHEN LEAVING BEHIND MY MONEY. THE CUSTOMER (CUZZIE) IS DOING THE CASHIER A FAVOUR BY ENSURING REPEAT PATRONAGE. YOUR STORES ARE NOT SET UP TO BE A PASSING TRADE BUSINESS. WHEN A CUSTOMER IS TREATED SHIT BY ONE OF YOUR STAFF THEY SIMPLY GO TO ANOTHER STORE AND TAKE THEIR MONEY WITH THEM AND THEY TELL FRIENDS OF THEIR EXPERIENCE WHICH CAN LEAD TO A WORD OF MOUTH SNOWBALL ( WOOLWORTHS LATEST FAUX PAS SHOULD STILL BE FRESH IN MEMORY) . I KNOW YOU WILL BE THINKING THAT I AM JUST ONE DISGRUNTLED CUSTOMER THAT WONT COME BACK, BUT TIMES THAT BY 4 PER DAY OVER A CALENDER YEAR. THEN WHEN THERE ARE NO WAGE INCREASES OR STAFF CUTBACKS THE STAFF BITCH AND WHINE THAT THEY ARE BEING TREATED UNFAIRLY, ADD TO THIS BAD MANAGEMENT AT STORE LEVEL ADDING TO SHELVES STANDING BARE OF STOCK, STOCK SPOILING, SHRINKAGE AND POOR CUSTOMER RELATIONS . THE STAFF AND MANAGERS ARE CAUSING THEIR OWN MISERY. I HAVE ALREADY BOYCOTTED A SPAR IN THE AREA WHERE CRAP SERVICE FROM CASHIERS AND “SHORT CHANGING’’ HAS FUELLED MY DECISION. THE CASHIERS IN YOUR SOMERSET STORE ARE RUDE AND PUT ACCROSS A CONDESCENDING ATTITUDE. THIS IS INDEED STRANGE CONSIDERING IT IS YOUR “LOYAL’ CUSTOMERS WHO ARE PAYING THEIR SALARIES.

SECONDLY. YOUR TELEVISION ADS PROMISE ALL MANNER OF ADDITIONAL SERVICES AIMED AT SIMPLIFYING MY SHOPPING EXPERIENCE. AT YOUR TILL POINTS I CAN PAY FOR MY GROCERIES AND PURCHASE AIRTIME, HOWEVER I CANT AT THAT TILL POINT PURCHASE MY PRE PAID ELECTRICITY. FOR THAT I MUST GO AND QUEUE IN YET ANOTHER LINE TO PURCHASE THE ELECTRICITY. THIS IS NOT MAKING MY LIFE EASIER, IT IS ANNOYING! ASK ANY PARENT WHO HAS JUST DONE MONTHLY SHOPPING WITH HER KIDS IN TOW, WHO HAS TO QUEUE TO PAY FOR THE GROCERIES THEN GET TOLD THAT SHE WILL HAVE TO QUEUE AGAIN IN A SEPERATE LINE TO GET THE POWER! WHY???? PICK N PAY SELLS ELECTRICITY AT THEIR TILL POINTS. OH AND THE PICK N PAY IN SOMERSET WEST HAS FRIENDLIER STAFF.
THE QUEUING SYSTEM AT YOUR SOMERSET WEST STORE`S MONEY MARKET IS CHAOTIC. I LEFT THE TILLS WITH MY PURCHASE AND JOINED THE LINE AT THE CIGARETTE COUNTER ONLY TO BE TOLD BY A CLUELESS INDIVIDUAL THAT THEY DO SELL ELECTRICITY BUT THE TILL IS STILL OFF. THE MAN IN FRONT OF ME WITH HIS SODA STREAM BOTTLE WAS NOT A HAPPY CAMPER EITHER. NOW I NOTICED TWO WORKMEN FIDDLING AROUND WITH 2.5MM NORSK CABLE. I SEE THAT THEY ARE WORKING ON A PLUG OR SOMETHING. MY PROBLEM HERE IS THAT THE MANAGER SHOULD HAVE FORSEEN THIS AND MADE AN ARRANGENMENT TO RUN AN EXTENSION TO ENSURE ALL TILLS ARE WORKING. THIS IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. FURTHER MORE, YOUR STORE OPENS AT 08H00, BUT THE STAFF ARE THERE A TAD EARLIER PREPPING THE SHOP FOR THE DAY SO IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY PEASY TO ENSURE THE TILL WAS UP AND RUNNING AT 08H06 WHEN YOUR STORE FINALLY OPENED , THE TWO SECURITY GUARDS HAVING A HEARTY DISCUSSION AND FART ARSING AROUND WHEN THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO ENSURE DOORS OPEN ON TIME JUST ADDS TO THE ALL ROUND UNHAPPY EXPERIENCE OF SHOPPING AT THAT STORE. I CANNOT BELEIVE THAT SERVICE CAN BE SO RADICALLY DIFFERENT FROM ONE PROVINCE TO ANOTHER! THIS WHOLE CAPE TOWN TIME EXCUSE IS UNACCEPTABLE. WHY MUST THE PUBLIC ENDURE INEFFICIENT RUDENESS AND A BADLY STOCKED STORE?
I AM A DARN FINE HANDS ON SELF STARTING QUALITY CONTROL MANAGER WITH OUTSTANDING CLIENT LIAISON ABILITIES AND I DETEST BAD SERVICE. PLEASE ADDRESS YOUR STAFF`S ATTITUDES AND STANDARD OPERATING PROCEDURES (SOP). INSTITUTE QUALITY CONTROL BOTH OF STORE LAYOUT- STOCK AND CUSTOMER CARE.

YOURS: MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847

2012

2010-09-20T12:53:00.002+02:00

2012
THE TWIN PLY REPORT
PRESENTS THE END OF DAYS
The lunatic fringe

DECEMBER 21st 2012 IS LOOMING. THE END IS NIGH, WE AS THE “INHUMANE’ RACE ARE STARING INTO THE VOID AND THERE AINT DIDDELEY WE CAN DO TO UNDO OUR IMPENDING DESTRUCTION. UNLIKE A COMPUTER WE AS PEOPLE UNFORTUNATELY DO NOT HAVE THE CONVENIENCE OF THE ‘UNDO” BUTTON OR “CONTROL ESCAPE”, WE ARE UNABLE TO ESCAPE OUR OWN DESTINY AND SELF DESTRUCTIVE HABITS. THE WORLD IS A TOILET AND THE FLUSH SEQUENCE HAS BEEN INITIATED WHICH WILL LEAD TO THE FINALITY OF LIFE AS WE KNOW IT. AS EVERYONE KNOWS WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT THE HUMAN RACE HAS A PENCHANT FOR PULLING THE ENVIRONMENT AND ITS RESOURCES THROUGH THEIR ARSES. POST 21 DECEMBER 2012 THERE WILL BE NO MORE TECHNOLOGY, NO MORE LIVING IN SELF ISOLATING COMFORT ZONES, NO MORE RETAIL THERAPY, NADA. JUST LIKE TURDS, MANKIND IS CIRCLING THE PORCELAIN CAUGHT UP IN THE VORTEX OF THE FLUSH, WE ARE TOTALLY SCREWED AND DONT REALISE IT OR CARE. THIS BENIGN ATTITUDE IS WHAT GOT US TO THIS JUNCTION IN WORLD HISTORY IN THE FIRST PLACE. INDUSTRIALISATION AND THE QUEST FOR THE BEST HAS RAPED THE PLANET AND IRREPERABLY DAMAGED THE ECO SYSTEM. OUR NEED TO “BUILD” UP SOCIETY BY DESTROYING NATURE IS AN ANOMALLY ONLY PRACTICED BY THE HUMAN RACE AND BOY ARE WE AWESOME AT IT!
MAN HAS BUILT CRAZY MAUSOLEUMS TO TECHNOLOGY THAT STAND TESTAMENT TO OUR MEGALOMANIA, THE NEED TO PROVE THAT WE CAN BUILD STRUCTURES THAT TOWER INTO THE SKY AND ARE BIGGER, BETTER AND HIGHER THAN THE ONE NEXT DOOR. THE MOMENT A BUILDING GOES UP AND IS TOUTED AS THE TALLEST IN THE WORLD A NEW BUILDING IS RACING UP JUST BEHIND IT. WE BUILD THESE MONSTROSITIES THAT SCRAPE THE SKY IN A QUEST TO PIN OUR NAMES AND FAME ONTO. SOCIETY HAS A BIZARRE NEED TO LIVE IN PIGEON HOLES IN THE SKY THAT ARE RIDICULOUSLY UNNATURAL FOR GROUND DWELLING BEINGS WHO ARE ILL SUITED TO AERIAL LIVING. ITS NOTHING MORE THAN SHOWING OFF THAT WE BUILD TALL STRUCTURES AND MESS AROUND WITH ATOMIC POWER THAT CAN SO EASILY BE MISMANAGED BY THE DORKS IN POWER. THESE DORKS ARE FOUND EVERYWHERE POWER AND IMPORTANT DECISIONS ARE MADE THAT ULTIMATELY AFFECT ALL THE LIVES OF PEOPLE ALL OVER THE GLOBE. FROM ARKANSAS TO ZAGREB TO BANGALORE TO BEIJING,MOSCOW TO HARARE, THE WORLD IS THEIR OYSTER AND BOY DO THEY ALL WANT THE PEARL WITHIN IT EVEN IF IT MEANS RUINING THE PLANET IN THEIR QUEST. THIS PEARL COULD BE AS DIVERSE AS POLITICAL POWER, ATOMIC PROWESS, RELIGIOUS DOGMA, MILITARY MIGHT, MISGUIDED IDEALISM. THE LIST IS LONG. EVER SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME MAN HAS BEEN ENDEAVOURING TO BE NUMBER ONE AND HAS TIME AND TIME AGAIN PROVEN THAT HE WONT THINK TWICE TO SINK INTO DEPRAVITY TO GAIN HIS PEARL EVEN IF IT HURTS THE PLANET THAT GRANTS US LIFE ON A VERY TEMPORARY LEASE. THIS LEASE IS NON NEGOTIABLE AND NON REDOABLE. NONETHELESS MAN SIMPLY BELEIVES THEY ARE IMMORTAL AND RESORT TO IMMORAL BEHAVIOUR TO HUNT FOR THE PEARL EVEN IF IT HARMS THE VERY ENVIRONMENT THAT GIVES THEM LIFE. THIS IS BEST UNDERSTOOD AS THE CUT OFF YOUR NOSE TO SPITE YOUR OWN FACE APPROACH, IT IS INDEED A DUMB APPROACH AND WE SEE IT DAILY ON THE EVENING NEWS, WE ARE BOMBARDED BY PICTURES OF POLITICIANS PREACHING PEACE AND IN THE NEXT SENTENCE INFORM THE WORLD THAT THEY ARE ESCALATING THE EFFORT TO RESTORE PEACE IN A REGION THAT THEY THEMSELVES HAD A HAND IN DESTABILISING. A GOOD EXAMPLE OF THIS PHENOMENON IS IRAQ AND AFGHANISTAN. THE PLANES SWOOP OVERHEAD BOMBING THE PLACE INTO RUBBLE, WITH TROOPS POURING OVER THE BOMBED OUT BUILDINGS DESTROYING PEOPLES LIVES AND LIVELYHOOD IN A FUTILE SEARCH FOR SOME MYTHICAL GROUP INVENTED BY THE POLITICIANS AND BIG BUSINESS TO LEGITIMISE THEIR BULLY TACTICS. DURING THE NEWS WE HEAR HOW BILLIONS OF DOLLARS ARE BEING PUMPED INTO THE DESTROYED COUNTRIES TO REBUILD THE FUCKED INFRASTRUCTURE, HOWEVER IF THEY HADNT DESTROYED EVERYTHING TO START WITH THEY WOULDNT HAVE TO WASTE THE FUNDS TO START WITH! THEY SPEND BILLIONS TO SEND ARMIES TO DESTROY THE PLACE AND THEN SPEND BILLIONS SUPPLYING THE ARMIES TO WREAK DESTRUCTION THEN SPEND BILLIONS TO “REBUILD” THE SHATTERED INFRASTRUCTURE THEY SHATTERED, THEN COMPLAIN THAT WITHDRAWING THEIR TROOPS WILL COST BILLIONS. FUCKING GENIUS!!!!! THE “FREE” WORLD IS BEING LED BY MORONS!
THROUGH ALL THIS WANTEN DESTRUCTION AND HULLABALOO THERE IS ONE CASUALTY THAT EVERYONE HAS FORGOTTEN ABOUT AND SPENT NO TIME THINKING OF. THE PLANET AND ITS FRAGILE ECO SYSTEM. THERE ARE THINGS CALLED TECTONIC PLATES AND FAULT LINES THAT LIE BENEATH THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH THAT ARE PRECISION INSTRUMENTS IN THE BIG SCHEME OF THINGS AND BY THE CONSTANT BOMBARDMENT BY MAN AND HIS WAR AND INDUSTRIAL MACHINE THE PLANET IS BEING PUT UNDER EXTRAORDINARY STRESSES THAT MANIFEST THEMSELVES IN MOTHER NATURES OWN SPECIAL WAYS.( FLOODS, TSUNAMI`S, EARTHQUAKES, TORNADO`S, HURRICANES, POP IDOL`S, ISIDINGO AND BOB MUGABE).

MAN IS INDEED INGENIOUS AND HAS MADE TRAVEL EASY, HEY THE CAR HAS ONLY BEEN AROUND FOR 115 YEARS OR SO AND IN THAT TIME WE HAVE JUST ABOUT DEPLETED THE OIL THAT THE PLANET HAS TO OFFER. IN THE EARLY DAYS THERE WERE INTELLIGENT ENTERPRISING MEN WHO TOYED WITH ALTERNATE POWER TO PROPEL THEIR CARS, THESE INCLUDED BATTERY, STEAM, COMPRESSED AIR ETC, THE POINT BEING THAT THE ADVERTS WE SEE NOW THAT “AMAZE” US AND AWAKEN OUR “GREEN” SIDE TO BUYING A TOYOTA PRIUS AND SAVE THE WORLD WAS ALL READY DONE WAY BACK WHEN. IT JUST NEVER CAUGHT ON BECAUSE IT WAS EASIER TO SUCK OIL OUT OF THE GROUND AND NOT GIVE A HOOT ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES AND THERE WAS NO WAY THE YANKS WERE GOING TO PASS UP ON THIS MUCH MONEY UNDER THE SOIL OF TEXAS, THIS IS NATURALLY BEFORE OIL WAS DISCOVERED IN THE DESERTS OF THE MIDDLE EAST , WHEN COUNTRIES LIKE SAUDI ARABIA AND KUWAIT WERE JUST DUSTY OUTPOSTS NOBODY REALLY GAVE A SHIT ABOUT. SO NOW WE HAVE TREE HUGGERS ZOOMING AROUND IN THEIR HYBRID CARS THINKING THEY ARE SAVING THE WORLD. YEAH RIGHT, NICE TRY. WHAT NO ONE REALISES IS THAT THE RARE EARTH ELEMENTS THAT ARE USED IN THE MANUFACTURE OF THE BATTERIES ARE STRIP MINED AND THE EARTH WHERE IT IS MINED IS LEFT STRIPPED BARREN AND USELESS. THE MANUFACTURING PLANT, REFINING PLANT, THE PLANT THAT BUILDS THE ENORMOUS FOSSIL FUELLED TRUCKS AND EQUIPMENT THAT TRANSPORT THE ORE ARE ALL MADE IN NON GREEN FACTORIES THAT DO HURT THE ENVIRONMENT, SO WHEN YOU SAUNTER INTO THE DEALERSHIP AND BUY A “GREEN” CAR BELEIVING YOU ARE SAVING THE PLANET, UNDERSTAND THAT IT IS ALL JUST A SALES RUSE TO GET YOU TO BUY A PRODUCT, IT IS SHREWD ADVERTISING AT ITS BEST AND YOU JUST FELL FOR IT JUST LIKE THE JUST WAR IN IRAQ AND AFGHANISTAN, THE TOYOTA PRIUS, SEA MONKEYS, JESUS, NOAH, THE TOOTH FAIRY, DEMOCRACY, RELIGION AS A WHOLE AND MICROWAVE POPCORN. THE PRIUS STILL UTILISES A FOSSIL FUEL ENGINE WORKING IN TANDEM WITH A BATTERY. SO ITS MUCH LIKE WANKING WITH BOXING GLOVES ON.

WHEN THE WORLD DECIDES THAT OUR RIDE IS OVER AND HANDS US OUR EVICTION NOTICE THAT SIGNALS THE END OF OUR TENURE AS THE HIGHEST BEAST IN THE FOOD CHAIN NO BELIEF IN JESUS, POLITICIANS, SCIENCE WILL HELP US. WE WILL ALL BE IN THE SAME BOAT SINKING TOGETHER EITHER HAND IN HAND OR FIGHTING HAND TO HAND. MY PREDICTION IS FIGHTING. THE REASON WE WILL GO DOWN FIGHTING EACH OTHER IS SIMPLE, IT IS ALL ABOUT GREED AND THE NEED TO HANG ONTO WHAT YOU HAVE EVEN IF IT IS RENDERED USELESS OR OBSOLETE. THIS IS, PEOPLE WILL KILL THEIR NEIGHBOURS DURING THE CATASTROPHE IN ORDER TO KEEP THEIR BIG SCREEN TV EVEN IF THERE IS NO POWER OR TELEVISION STATIONS BROADCASTING ANYMORE. LOOTING EVENTUALLY INFECTS EVERYONE IN THE FIGHT TO STAY ALIVE AND PROVIDE FOR THEMSELVES AND THOSE CLOSE TO THEM TILL SELF PRESERVATION OVERWHELMES THE TIES THAT BIND AND YES BLOOD IS INDEED THICKER THAN WATER BUT DRINKING BLOOD IS JUST NOT AS SATISFYING AS FRESH WATER UNLESS OF COURSE YOU ARE NOSFERATU. NON PERISHABLE FOOD, MEDICAL SUPPLIES AND THINGS LIKE TOBACCO, BOOZE, DRUGS WILL BECOME HUGELY VALUABLE AND USED AS LEVERAGE, CURRENCY OR A SHOW OF DOMINANCE. FRESH WATER WILL BE MORE SAUGHT AFTER THAN THE FABLED ARK OF THE COVENANT, A NEW HOLY GRAIL WILL BE LOOKED FOR IN ORDER TO SHOW WHO IS INDEED THE BIG KAHOONA IN TOWN. I PROPOSE THE “HOLY AQUACOOLER” WILL EMERGE AS THE MYTHICAL THING OF LEGEND THAT MEN WILL COVET AND KILL ALL WHO CROSS THEIR PATH WHILST THEY EMBARK ON ANOTHER UNHOLY CRUSADE TO FIND THE LAST VAT OF UNSOILED PURE WATER. SOUND STUPID? MEN HAVE GONE TO WAR AND MURDERED MILLIONS FOR LESS. JUST THINK OF THE ARK OF THE COVENANT, WHAT DOES IT CONTAIN? SAND MOST LIKELY, WE WILL NEVER KNOW FOR SURE BECAUSE IT DOESNT REALLY EXIST OUTSIDE OF A STORY ONCE TOLD IN ANTIQUITY TO VERY GULLIBLE AND SUPERSTITIOUS PEOPLE.
THE CATASTROPHE IS WELL KNOWN AND HAS BEEN TURNED INTO A BIG BUDGET FLOP OF A MOVIE, YES ITS 2012 BY ROLAND EMMERICH. HE HAS A PENCHANT FOR TAKING REALISTIC STORIES AND MAKING THEM MISGUIDED LOVE STORIES. SHAME WHAT A LAME DUCK, ANYWAYS I DIGRESS A TAD FROM THE PLOT LINE AS HE DOES. WE HAVE ALL HEARD AND READ THE REPORTS FROM HISTORY OF THE IMPENDING ARSE HOLE COLLAPSE THE WORLD AND ITS OCCUPANTS ARE FACING, EVERYONE FROM THE HOPI INDIANS , MAYANS, NOSTRADAMUS, SOME WACK JOB FROM THE BIBLE TO MOTHER SHIPTON ALL PREDICTED A COMMON DATE FOR THE GREAT UNRAVELLING TO BEGIN, DECEMBER 21st 2012. EVERYONE WILL BE AFFECTED REGARDLESS OF CLASS, CREED, RELIGION, PERSUASION, SEXUAL ORIENTATION ( I PREDICT THE GAY COMMUNITY WILL BE THE HARDEST AFFECTED ON A PERSONAL LEVEL, IT WILL BE DIFFICULT TO LOOK FABULOUS IN TORN UNMATCHING SLACKS, SHIRT OR FATIGUES, IT JUST IS NOT A LOOK THAT SCREAMS “HEY BABES, CHECK ME OUT I AM FAB”.) ACCORDING TO ALL THE REPORTS, PREDICTIONS AND THUMB SUCKS THERE SHOULD BE SOME SORT OF PLANETARY ALIGNMENT THAT WILL RESULT IN A MAGNETIC POLAR SHIFT OF SOME OR OTHER SORT, THIS WILL BASICALLY BE EARTHS “BI POLAR” MOMENT CAUSING ALL MANNER OF CATASTROPHE TO BREAK OUT RESULTING IN MANKINDS THINNING OUT. WITH 6 BILLION OF US CAVORTING ABOUT THE PLANET IT IS HIGH TIME WE WERE “CULLED” TO PREVENT THE LIMITED RESOURCES AVAILABLE FROM BEING TOTALLY DEPLETED, WE PRACTICE THIS VERY SORT OF THING IN NATURE. WE DECIDE THAT CERTAIN HERDS ARE TOO NUMEROUS AND IN AN EXTREMELY SELFISH MANNER DECIDE ON BEHALF OF NATURE TO CULL A COUPLE HUNDRED HEAD OF ELEPAHANTS FOR EXAMPLE NOT THINKING FOR AN IOTA OF A SECOND THAT THEIR NUMBNERS ARE ENSURING SURVIVAL OF THEIR SPECIES AND DNA LINE MUCH LIKE HUMANS DO. WE TOO PROCREATE AND MULTIPLY TO ENSURE THE CONTINUATION OF THE DNA LINE , SO WHAT GIVES US THE RIGHT TO PRE-CHOOSE FOR THE ANIMALS? OUR LOGIC IS THAT THERE ARE TOO MANY FOR THE ENVIRONMENT WITHIN WHICH THEY LIVE HOWEVER ITS US HUMANS WHO ARE DESTABILISING THE ANIMALS HABITATS THROUGH INDUSTRIALISATION AND ENCROACHMENT. OUR HABITAT IS GROWING LEAVING LESS FOR THE ANIMALS SO WE SEND OUT ‘PROFESSIONAL HUNTERS” AND PAYING BIG GAME PRIVATE HUNTER HEAD COLLECTORS TO “HUMANELY” THIN THE HERDS NUMBERS. WHAT A LOAD OF FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! THERE IS NOTHING HUMANE IN STALKING AN “UNARMED” ANIMAL AND FROM THE SAFETY OF A 4X4 VEHICLE ARMED WITH A HIGH POWERED RIFLE AND SCOPE BLAST AN ENORMOUS HOLE IN AN ANIMALS HEAD FROM 300METRES. ANIMALS EXPERIENCE FEAR, PAIN AND LOSS JUST LIKE THE “HIGHER” ANIMAL THAT JUST WASTED IT. MANKIND SHOULD KNOW BETTER AND SHOULD HAVE LEARNED FROM HISTORY BUT I FEAR WE ARE SIMPLY DOOMED TO REPEAT HISTORY. DOES ANYONE RECALL THE INTERNMENT CAMPS OF THE 1940`S? THE CAMPS WHERE PEOPLE WERE TRANSPORTED IN CATTLE CARS, TREATED LOWER THAN DOGS AND ‘CULLED”. WE AS A RACE HAVE NO BUSINESS MAKING DECISIONS FOR OTHER SPECIES AS WE CANT EVEN MAKE INTELLIGENT DECISIONS FOR OURSELVES. MANKIND BELIEVES IT KNOWS BEST AND WHAT IS BEST FOR THE PLANET, HOWEVER OUR TRACK RECORD THUS FAR DOES NOT SHOW THAT WE CAN OR SHOULD BE MAKING DECISIONS AT ALL. A TROUPE OF MONKEYS LIVE IN A MORE PEACEFUL ORDERED SOCIETY THAN THEIR HUMAN “COUSINS”. IN EVERY FAMILY WE HAVE THAT IDIOT COUSIN THAT EMBARRESES US AND WE ARE THE MONKEY`S IDIOT COUSIN.

SO BACK TO 2012.
I DONT KNOW HOW IT WILL TURN OUT JUST LIKE I DONT KNOW WHAT SHAPE MY NEXT TURD WILL BE BUT I DO KNOW THAT MAJOR UPHEAVEL IS A GIVEN AND OUR OBSESSION WITH STUPIDITY WILL LEAD TO THE DEMISE OF MILLIONS THROUGH NOT THINKING AHEAD. THIS IS, A LOT OF PEOPLE WILL DIE BECAUSE OF LAZINESS AND THE NEED TO BE RIGHT NEXT TO LARGE BODIES OF WATER SUCH AS LAKES, RIVERS AND OCEANS. WE HAVE SEEN THE IMAGES ON TELEVISION OF HOUSES BEING DRAGGED AWAY BY RIVERS THAT BURST THEIR BANKS AND THE INFLUX OF WATER FROM THE OCEAN DURING HURRICANES AND EARTH QUAKES THAT DROWNED PEOPLE LIKE RATS. MANKIND BUILD SKYSCRAPERS ON KNOWN FAULT LINES AND RECLAIMED LAND WHICH DURING LAND SHIFT OR SEVERE TREMORS LEAD TO “LIQUIFACTION” WHICH ALLOWS WATER TO POUR UP THROUGH THE FOUNDATIONS RESULTING IN PARTIAL OR COMPLETE COLLAPSE, JUST THINK TOKYO, KOBE, HOLLAND, DUBAI, COASTAL AREAS OF LOS ANGELES ETC. WE THEN GET THE HILLSIDE DWELLERS OF SOUTH AMERICA THAT BUILD THEIR DOMICILES ON THE SLOPES OF HILLS AND ACT ALL SURPRISED WHEN THEIR HOME SWEET HOMES ARE SWEPT AWAY BY LANDSLIDES AND LEHARS. YOU DONT HAVE TO BE A GENIUS TO SEE THAT BUILDING ON CLAY, A RIVER BANK, ON THE BEACH METRES AWAY FROM THE WATER, ON THE SLOPES OR BASE OF STEAMING VOLCANO`S IS A BAD ,BAD IDEA. NO BUT WE STILL DO. AMAZINGLY ENOUGH THESE PROPERTIES CARRY THE HIGHEST COSTS AS THEY ARE TOUTED AS HOME WITH A FANTASTIC VIEW OF THE SEA, BAY, VALLEY, MOUNTAIN, ESTUARY ETC. SAFETY IT SEEMS IS SECONDARY TO A GREAT VIEW.
AT LEAST THE PERSON WITH THE GREAT SEA VIEW WILL HAVE AN UNOBSTRUCTED VISTA OF THE APPROACHING TIDAL WAVE OR STORM SURGE THAT WASHES HIS MULTI MILLION DOLLAR HOME INLAND A COUPLE KILOMETRES. UNFORTUNATELY WHEN HIS HOME HAS COME TO A REST THERE MAY BE A CASE OF “SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED” , THEN WITH THE SUDDEN DEMISE OF TENS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE IN CENTRALISED AREAS THE DESTRUCTION OF SEWERAGE TREATMENT PLANTS , RUBBISH DUMPS, LANDFILL SITES ETCETERA WILL LEAD TO THE BREAK OUT OF DISEASE THAT WILL MAKE THE DARK AGES PLAGUE LOOK TIMID BY COMPARISON, THE CORPSES WILL BLOAT AND DECOMPOSE SPREADING DISEASE ON AN UNPRECEDENTED SCALE. ENTIRE CITIES WILL PONG WITH THE STENCH OF DEATH AND DISEASE MAKING BREATHING THE AIR IMPOSSIBLE AND DEADLY.THIS MISERY ADDED TO THE TOTAL DESTRUCTION AND COLLAPSE OF SOCIETY WILL LEAD TO ANARCHY, MURDER, RAPE, ROBBERY, THEFT AND ULTIMATELY CANNIBALISM AS FOOD WILL BECOME SCARSE DUE TO RUINING, ROT AND LATER CROP FAILURE. A CAN OF BAKED BEANS WOULD SPARK RIOTS THAT WILL SEE PEOPLE KILL THEIR OWN FAMILY MEMBERS IN ORDER TO EAT.THE GUN WILL BECOME THE LAW AND THOSE WITH WEAPONS THE JUDGE ,JURY AND EXECUTIONER. WITH THE AMOUNT OF PEOPLE LIVING IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO EACH OTHER IN THE AREAS THEY DO CATASTROPHE IS GUARANTEED WHEN THE OCEAN SPILLS IN. EVERYONE IS PRONE TO THIS POTENTIALLY SELF INDUCED STUPIDITY, EVEN I LIVE 800METRES FROM THE COAST LINE, NOT A CLEVER MOVE I ADMIT. THERE IS A MOUNTAIN RANGE 3 CLICKS AWAY THAT I WILL DEFINATELY SCOOT MY ARSE UP IN THE EVENT OF A MONUMENTOUS STORM OR SUDDEN RECEEDING OF THE TIDE ( AN OBVIOUS GIVE AWAY OF A RATHER VIOLENT HIGH TIDE APROACHING), HIGH SOLID GROUND IS THE ONLY SAFE PLACE DURING AN EVENT, THE HIGHER YOU CLIMB THE LESS THE CHANCE OF BIG ROCKS FALLING UPON YOU I THINK. I AM BY NO MEANS A PROFESSIONAL IN THIS FIELD BUT I AM DEFINATELY GOING UPWARDS WHEN THE OCEAN LEVEL RISES. IF THE GROUND SHAKES AND FISSURES APPEAR I AM CLIMBING UP THAT HILL. SOLID ROCK IS BETTER THAN MUSHY SOIL. I AM JUST PLEASED AS PUNCH THAT I DONT LIVE IN AMERICA, MAN THAT PLACE IS A DISASTER JUST WITING TO HAPPEN, NOWHERE WITHIN THE UNITED STATES OF DISNEYLAND IS SAFE. HURRICANES, TORNADO`S, EARTHQUAKES, YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK SUPER VOLCANO, STEVEN SEAGAL, CHUCK NORRIS, HUNDREDS OF NUCLEAR POWER PLANTS, MEXICO TO THE SOUTH, RAP MUSIC AND OTHER NATURAL DISASTERS JUST WAITING TO HAPPEN MAKE THE BIG OLD “U S of A” A PLACE TO AVOID LIKE THE PLAGUE.BY THE WAY CHUCK NORRIS IS SO MEAN HE GARGLES WITH MAGMA.

NOW GORDON`S BAY WHERE I CURRENTLY FIND MYSELF IS NOT THE SMARTEST PLACE TO BE LIVING JUST AHEAD OF THE BIGGEST UNKNOWN THE WORLD IS FACING SINCE MISTER DINOSAUR ROAMED THE PLANET BUT FROM WHAT I GATHER AND HAVE READ, SOUTH AFRICA IN GENERAL IS THE SAFEST PLACE TO BE DURING THE BIG EVENT EVEN WITH NATURAL DISASTERS LIKE JULIUS MALEMA AND JACOB ZUMA ROAMING FREE. SOUTH AFRICA HAS HAD A CRAZY HISTORY AND MAY STILL EMERGE AS THE NEXT WORLD POWER AFTER THE EVENT. WOULDNT THAT BE A THING? FIRSTLY I AM GOING TO TAKE A TRIP IN THE WEEK LEADING UP TO THE 21st OF DECEMBER 2012 TO THE HIGHEST, HARDEST PART OF OUR COUNTRY TO REMEMBER AND HONOUR THE 5TH YEAR TO THE DAY MY DAD DIED (20-5-1947 / 21-12-2007) AND MAKE SURE I AM NOWHERE NEAR THE COAST, FAULT LINES, LARGE RIVERS, DAMS OR JULIUS MALEMA! BACK TO GORDON`S BAY. IT IS A NATURAL COVE THAT MAKES UP FALSE BAY AND IS ALMOST COMPLETELY SURROUNDED BY THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE WITH ONE AREA OPEN TO THE OCEAN, THIS PROVIDES THE BAY WITH A MODICUM OF PROTECTION FROM THE SEA, IT ALSO HELPS THAT THE COAST LINE IS VERY ROCKY SO WAVES TEND TO BREAK FURTHER AWAY FROM THE SHORE, IT IS NOTE WORTHY MENTIONING THAT FALSE BAY IN GENERAL IS NOT SHIP FRIENDLY DUE TO THE EXTENSIVE ROCKY REEF HOWEVER I LIVE WAY TOO CLOSE TO THE WATER AND I PLAN ON BEING FAR AWAY OR AT THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN RIDGE ABOVE THE STEENBRAS DAM. THIS IS THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I HAVE SEEN A DAM AND WATER PURIFYING PLANT BUILT UP THE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN CLINGING PRECARIOUSLY OVER THE OCEAN.
MANY WEB SITES HAVE SPROUTED UP PERTAINING TO 2012 AND THE WAYS TO SURVIVE THE EVENT, WHAT ANNOYS ME IS THAT INSTEAD OF TRYING TO INFORM PEOPLE FOR FREE THEY ARE ADVERTISING SOME SILLY ARSE MANUAL FRO SALE. THIS JUST GOES TO SHOW THAT EVEN THE “CHRISTIAN” SITES OUT THERE IN ETHER LAND ARE ALL ABOUT SELF GRATIFICATION AND MAKING MONEY. I VIEWED MANY OF THESE SITES AND SELLING WAS THEIR MAIN DRIVING FORCE. YOU CAN BUY THE BOOK, DVD, CD,TAPE, LP, COFFEE MUG AND DILLY ARSE T SHIRT WITH THE PHRASE “ARE YOU READY TO RAPTURE” PRINTED ON IT. I FIND THIS SICK AND IT SHOWS THAT EVEN “CHRISTIANS” ARE NOTHING MORE THAN CAPITALISTS IN THE FACE OF EXTINCTION. THERE WAS A STORY OF A DUDE CALLED JESUS WALKING INTO A TEMPLE AND STRIPPING HIS “MOER” BECAUSE IT WAS BEING USED TO SELL SHIT IN AND MAKE MONEY, APPARENTLY HE TURFED TABLES UPSIDE DOWN AND RANTED THAT THE PEOPLE WERE SCUM OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. ANYONE ADVERTISING THINGS FOR SALE ON CHRISTIAN WEBSITES ON HOW TO SURVIVE THE BIG EVENT IS GUILTY AS CHARGED OF DOING EXACTLY WHAT THE GUYS IN THE TEMPLE WERE DOING. DONT USE GOD OR JESUS TO MAKE YOURSELF RICH YOU PHONIES!!!! IF ANYONE OUT THERE IS GENUINELY TRYING TO SAVE LIVES OR DRAW AWARENESS ON HOW TO SURVIVE THE SINGLE BIGGEST EVENT OF OUR TIMES THEY WOULD BE IMPARTING THE INFORMATION AND KNOWLEDGE FOR FREE AND NOT TRYING TO SCORE A BUCK. FOR ALL WE KNOW WE WILL GO TO SLEEP ON THE EVENING OF THE 21st OF DECEMBER AND AWAKE THE 22nd TO EXACTLY THE SAME DAY AS YESTERDAY, NO CHANGE, NO CATASTROPHE, NO POLE REVERSAL, NO GLOBAL TSUNAMI. JUST ANOTHER EARTH DAY LIKE JANUARY 1st 2000. I HOPE SO BUT I AM KINDA LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ANARCHY IF IT GOES THE OTHER WAY, THE REBUILDING OF MANKIND UNDER ONE BANNER, ONE NATION. AFRICA WAS THE MOTHER OF MANKIND IN THE BEGINNING WHEN THE LAST MAJOR EVENT SEPERATED THE LAND MASSES AND WILL BE THE MOTHER OF MANKIND IN THE BEGINNING OF THE NEXT MAJOR EVENT WHEN THE HUMAN RACE REBUILDS ITSELF. THERE WILL BE MANY YEARS OF MISERY, DISEASE, STARVATION AND MURDER BEFORE WE START “LIVING” AGAIN AND SOUTH AFRICA WILL BE THE COUNTRY OF CHOICE .
STOP TRYING TO MAKE MONEY OUT OF WHAT COULD BE OUR LAST STAND AS A RACE, YOUR MONEY WILL NOT HELP YOU BECAUSE DISASTER IS THE BIG EQUALISER. I AM NOT ENTIRELY READY BUT ACCEPT THAT THE WORLD WILL CHANGE AND I WILL HAVE TO ADAPT IN ORDER TO SEE THE NEXT DAY AND THE DAY AFTER THAT. I AM NOT AN OVERLY RELIGIOUS PERSON, I DONT BELIEVE IN THE BIBLE STORIES AS A WHOLE BUT I DO HAVE A STRONG SPIRITUAL SIDE THAT HAS BEEN HONED OVER YEARS OF FINDING WHAT I BELIEVE AND FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH.

IN CONCLUSION I SAY

BRING IT ON!

MICHAEL B DA SILVA 0789489847
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com www.michaelbdasilva.20m.com http//michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com

THE OVERLOOK

2010-08-25T10:55:00.002+02:00

THE OVERLOOK HOTEL DIARIES
WINTER WONDER HOLIDAY
CHAPTER ONE

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY

ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY

CHAPTER TWO

KIDNEY`s A GO-GO

2010-08-21T08:38:00.000+02:00

RECESSION , PSEUDO RICH PEOPLE & CHOICE BODY PARTS FOR SALE.

EVERYDAY I HEAR PEOPLE WHINGING ABOUT HOW TOUGH THEY HAVE IT AND HOW THEY ARE STRUGGLING. THIS IS MADE INCREASINGLY DIFFICULT TO BELEIVE AND STOMACH WHEN THEY SIT THERE AND PLEAD POVERTY WEARING THEIR DESIGNER SLACKS, DESIGNER BRANDED SHIRT AND JACKET, DESIGNER SHOES, DESIGNER WATCH, DESIGNER SHADES, DESIGNER SOCKS, DESIGNER JOCKS(NO DOUBT), DESIGNER JEWELLERY, DESIGNER D&G CELLPHONE WHICH IS SO YESTERDAY AND CANNOT WAIT TO UPGRADE TO THE LATEST BLACKBERRY ANDROID SYSTEM SMART PHONE NEXT WEEK WHEN THEY ARE IN STOCK AND FANCY CAR OR DOUBLE CAB BAKKIE / SUV PARKED NEXT TO THEIR QUAD BIKE AND JET SKI . IT MAKES ME SICK. THEY SIT THERE AND WITH A STRAIGHT FACE ORDER A FANTASTICALLY PRICEY “DESIGNER’ CAFE LATTE WITH CROISSANT AT AN EXORBITANT COST OF FIFTY RAND . THEY CLAIM THAT THINGS ARE SOOOO TOUGH AND THAT THEY HAVE TO CUT BACK ON EXTRAVAGANCES, AS THE CREDIT CRUNCH IS REALLY GRABBING THEM, THIS ALL WHEN THEY HAVE THEIR BRAND NEW LATEST FANTASMO GADGET IN THE INCREDIBLE CONNECTION PACKET , NEXT TO WHICH IS A TROLLEY JAM PACKED WITH AN ASSORTMENT OF RIDICULOUSLY COSTLY GROCERIES FROM “WOOLIES”. THEY ARE SO IN A HURRY AND CANNOT REALLY LISTEN TO WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY BECAUSE THEY ARE RUNNING LATE FOR THEIR VIRGIN ACTIVE GYM SESSION AND FACIAL PEEL, BROW SHAPE, MASSAGE AND SUNBED SESSION BEFORE HEADING OUT TONIGHT TO CATCH UP ON A SHOW AT THE THEATRE AFTER WHICH THEY WILL BE MEETING “FRIENDS” AT THE VAN DONK 5 STAR ALA CARTE RESTAURANT IN THE MOST EXCLUSIVE HOTEL IN CAPE TOWN ,(AND THIS IS THE HUSBAND THAT IS ALL METROSEXUAL). I THEN THINK TO MYSELF, “THEY ARE MEETING FRIENDS, SO WHAT AM I?” THE POOR PERSON ASSIGNED TO THEM TO FILL SOME RICH PERSONS QUOTA OF DISADVANTAGED INDIVIDUALS THAT THEY ARE REQUIRED TO KNOW AND BREAK DOWN SPIRITUALLY AND SOCIALLY? HOLY KAMOLY, THE CREDIT CRUNCH SURE IS TAKING ITS TOLL ON THESE STUCK UP INDIVIDUALS.... SHIT! I WISH I WAS IN THEIR PREDICAMENT.

HERE I SIT AT THE TABLE AND ORDER THE MOST “COST EFFECTIVE” CUP OF COFFEE WEARING MY “GENERIC” MR PRICE SOCKS, JOCKS, CARGO PANTS, SHIRT,JACKET, 4 YEAR OLD PHONE, 4 YEAR OLD SHOES(HI-TEC) NATURALLY, HEY EVEN I LIKE A MODERATELY PRICEY SHOE AS THEY DO LAST A TAD LONGER THAN THE “FONG KONG” CHINESE CRAP THAT I NORMALLY BUY DUE TO FINANCIAL CONSTRAINTS. I AM A VICTIM OF THE CRUNCH, I AM STRUGGLING, I AM LIVING VERY LEAN. THESE DILDO`S HAVE NO CLUE ABOUT WHAT IT IS TO STRUGGLE HOWEVER THEY ARE THE FIRST TO RETORT THAT “I HAVE BEEN THERE”. WHAT A LIE!!! THEY HAVE NO FRIKKIN CLUE. I UNFORTUNATELY HAD TO SELL EVERYTHING I OWNED AND TRAVELLED WITH THREE KITBAGS TO A NEW TOWN TO TRY START OVER AGAIN. I DONT OWN A POT TO PISS IN OR A WINDOW TO THROW IT OUT OF. I HAVE LOST IT ALL AND UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF CREDIT CRUNCH AND STRUGGLING. I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A MODERATELY HUMBLE PERSON AND NEVER LET MY OWN PERCEIVED FANTASTICALNESS AND EGO RULE ME MAKING ME AN IMPOSSIBLY VAIN SCHMUCK LIKE THE FUCKWIT ACCROSS THE TABLE FROM ME. I AM FIGHTING BACK THE URGE TO STAND UP AND SCREAM OBSENITIES AT THIS FASHION ANDROID AND THEN GOUGE OUT “ITS” EYEBALL WITH THE MINIATURE TEASPOON LYING ON THE SAUCER WHICH “IT” JUST USED TO STIR IN” ITS” SWEETENER. USE SUGAR FOR FUCK SAKES!!!! DONT STIR WITH YOUR PINKY FINGER STICKING OUT LIKE ITS GOT A HARD ON! STOP WITH THE ANNOYING FAKE “CAPETONIAN” “ HOLISTIC” “SCHUWAA” ACCENT, GET OVER YOURSELF ALREADY. THE PRETENTIOUSNESS OF YOUR BOMBASTIC ATTITUDE IS SICKENING, YOU LOVE YOUR OWN VOICE AND YOU KNOW IT ALL. HELL`S TEETH IT MUST BE A FULL TIME JOB TO KEEP UP ALL THAT BULLSHIT ALL THE TIME? YOU LOOK DOWN ON EVERYONE AROUND YOU FORGETTING THAT YOU TOO ARE JUST A PERSON AND YOUR SHIT STINKS JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE`S, YOU ARE NOT ROYALTY AND YOU DONT DESERVE BETTER SERVICE AT SPAR OR THE CHECKOUT AT WOOLIES BECAUSE YOU ARE JUST SO BUSY AND UBER IMPORTANT IN YOUR OWN LITTLE MIND. YOUR CAR AND ADDRESS DOES NOT ENTITLE YOU TO SPECIAL SERVICE. YOU CONSTANTLY WHINE ABOUT THE SRVICE AT THE TILLS AND HOW DESPICABLE THE CASHIER IS. LET ME TELL YOU A LITTLE SECRET, IF YOU HAD A MODICUM OF RESPECT IN THAT VACUOUS SKULL OF YOURS YOU WOULD REALISE THAT THOSE AROUND YOU WOULD BE NICER TO YOU, UNFORTUNATELY YOUR HORRID HIGHER THAN THOU DEMEANOUR RESULTS IN THE CASHIER FOR EXAMPLE BEING UNHELPFUL IN YOUR EYES. ITS YOU THAT NEEDS TO RE-EXAMINE, RE-ADDRESS AND RE-APPRAISE YOUR ATTITUDE AND THEN OTHERS AROUND YOU WONT TREAT YOU WITH DISDAIN AND RUDENESS THAT YOU HARP ON ABOUT, THEY ARE MERELY DOING TO YOU WHAT YOU DO TO THEM. EVERYONE, EVEN THE DISENFRANCHISED HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE TREATED DECENTLY BY YOU! WHEN THE UNIVERSE TURNS AND THE “KARMA BITCH” TAKES ALL YOUR STUFF AWAY IT IS GOING TO HURT WAY MORE THAN IT HURTS THE HUMBLE PERSON. WHY YOU ASK? SIMPLE, YOU SPENT SO MUCH TIME LOOKING DOWN AT EVERYONE AROUND YOU THAT WHEN ITS YOUR TURN YOU WONT BE ABLE TO BOUNCE BACK BECAUSE YOUR FALL WAS SUCH A LONG ONE AND THE VIEW LOOKING UP TO THOSE YOU ONCE LOOKED DOWN UPON WILL QUITE LITERALLY KIL YOU, THE SHAME WILL BE TOO MUCH TO BARE. NEXT WE READ A SMALL ARTICLE IN SOME OBSCURE LOCAL PAPER THAT YOU TOOK YOUR OWN LIFE. SOMETHING LIKE POOR MISS FIONA (you are the weakest link,, goodbye) COYNE. ****DISCLAIMER****( THE VIEWS AND OPINIONS EXPRESSED ARE THOSE OF MY OWN PLAUSIBILITY AND THEOREM THAT I HAVE GARNERED THROUGH HEARING, SEEING, READING AND DEDUCING VIA THE MEDIA AND MY BRAIN. I AM IN NO WAY SURMISING THAT MY CHAIN OF EVENTS ARE WHAT HAPPENED FOR DEFINITE, THEY ARE SIMPLY MY THEORIES ETCETERA ETCETERA BLAA BLAA BLAA). I PREDICT THAT SHE WAS SLIP SLIDING FROM THE HIGHER THAN THOU PERCH AND COULDNT BEAR THE “SHAME” OF LOSING IT ALL, WHICH IN REALITY PROBABLY WASNT ALL THAT MUCH OR SUCH A BAD HURDLE TO OVERCOME. HOWEVER THE NOTION OF MOVING INTO A SMALLER RENTED APARTMENT FROM YOUR LUXURIOUS FISH HOEK HOME FOR EXAMPLE WAS JUST TOO MUCH OF AN EMBARRESMENT OR PERHAPS THE WORK FRONT WAS TAKING A SERIOUS DETOUR AND THE OFFERS WERE DRYING UP OR THE JOBS BEING OFFERED WERE SIMPLY EMBARRESING LIKE BEING ASKED TO BE AN EXTRA IN VETKOEK PALEIS. NOW A HUMBLER PERSON WILL ACCEPT THE REALITY AND MAKE THE BEST OF A KAK SITUATION. I KNOW, I HAVE HAD TO. SOME DILLY OLD BAG SUGGESTED I BECOME A CAR GUARD. I DECLINED TO COMMENT AND MOST CERTAINLY NEVER ENTERTAINED THOUGHTS OF COMMITTING SEWERAGE PIPE. MY RATIONALE IS THAT I DEFINATELY DIDNT TRAVEL 1450 KILOMETRES TO BECOME A CAR GUARD. HEY I COULD HAVE DONE THAT ALL THE WAY BACK IN JO`BURG. I SECRETLY ENTERTAINED THOUGHTS OF SETTING HER CAR ALIGHT. WHY SHE EVEN SUGGESTED THAT I RUN OUT AND STAND IN A CAR PARK TO BE IGNORED BY HER WHEN SHE WADDLES BACK TO HER CAR AFTER SHOPPING, CLIMBS IN AND LEAVES THE LOT WITHOUT SO MUCH AS MAKING EYE CONGTACT OR SAYING THANKS THAT I KEPT “A NINJA EYE’ ON HER VEHICLE. I MOVED TO CAPE TOWN FROM JO`BURG AND I AM LOOKING FOR A JOB, I WASNT RELEASED FROM A LUNATIC ASYLUM OR PRISON. SO WHY LET YOUR MOUTH LET OUT RIDICULOUS UTTERANCES. IF I WERE NOT A STRONG YET HUMBLE PERSON I MAY HAVE TAKEN THE FIONA WAY OUT. INSTEAD I GATHER MY RESOLVE AND UNDER MY BREATH CURSE THE BITCH FOR SUGGESTING SUCH A DISMAL IDEA. HER COMEUPPANCE IS IN THE COSMIC QUEUEING SYSTEM.

THIS THEN BRINGS ME TO MY KIDNEY.
TIMES ARE NOT OPTIMUM FOR ME RIGHT NOW AND THE WORK SITUATION REMAINS ELUSIVE LIKE THE FEMALE “G” SPOT. I WENT ONLINE AND SURFED FRENETICALLY LOOKING FOR SATAN OR CONTACT DETAILS FOR SATAN SO THAT I COULD ENQUIRE ABOUT FLOGGING OR PAWNING MY SOUL TO HIM, UNFORTUNATELY EVEN SATAN SEEMS TO BE ALL “SOULED” OUT AND DOESNT WANT TO ENTERTAIN ANY MORE APPLICATIONS. SOMETHING ABOUT THE MARKET BEING FLOODED WITH PEOPLE SELLING THEIR SOULS CAUSING A DIP IN THE VIABILITY FOR SATAN TO PAY FOR THE SOULS AT A PREMIUM RATE. THE GOING RATE FOR SELLING A SOUL IS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF A GRAND INCLUDING VAT AND TRANSFER COSTS. MY NEXT RATIONAL OBVIOUS OPTION WAS TO SELL MY LEFT KIDNEY. MY FIRST AVENUE OF CHOICE WAS TO HANG OUT AT THE LOCAL HOSPITAL AND HAND OUT FLYERS TO THOSE VISITING RELATIVES. THIS APPROACH HOWEVER SEEMED TO ANNOY THOSE VISITING THEIR AILING LOVED ONES. NEXT I WENT TO CASH CRUSADERS HOWEVER THEY SAID THAT MY KIDNEY CAME WITH TOO MANY “INCUMBERANCES”, GO FIGURE? ANYWAY, I THEN RESORTED TO ONLINE ADVERTISING AND DULY PLACED AN AD ON GUMTREE OFFERING MY LEFT KIDNEY FOR SALE WITH SOME CONDITIONS AND TERMS THAT OBVIOUSLY APPLY SUCH AS SOLD CASH, AS IS, VOETS TOETS, CHANCERS NEED NOT APPLY. I FORSEE THAT MY AD WILL BE EASIER TO VIEW AND WILL BE AVAILABLE TO A LARGER AUDIENCE SEEING THAT IT IS ON THE WEB. I AM EXTREMELY EXCITED AT THE PROSPECT OF SOME YANK OR EUROPEAN PHONING ME AND PURCHASING MY KIDNEY. I HAVE BEEN HONEST IN MY DESCRIPTION AND REASON FOR SELLING. IT IS A ONE OWNER KIDNEY WITH 40 YEARS ON THE CLOCK, IT IS IN DAILY USE AND IN GREAT CONDITION. MY REASON FOR SELLING IS SIMPLE. I NEED THE FRIKKIN MONEY! OH AND OF COURSE, I ONLY THEORETICALLY NEED ONE TO SURVIVE AND SEEING AS I HAVE PASSED MY “MID LIFE ” MILESTONE WHAT THE HELL DO I NEED BOTH FOR? I COULD REALLY USE THE TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND RAND TO PURCHASE SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT LIKE A DUCATI MOTORCYCLE OR BMW Z3. YOU KNOW, A NECESSITY. ANY WAYS I DIGRESS, PLEASE KEEP ME IN MIND WHEN SPEAKING TO ANYONE YOU MAY KNOW THAT PER CHANCE NEEDS A KIDNEY OR COLLECTS KIDNEYS. HEY, PEOPLE COLLECT WEIRD AND WONDERFUL SHIT OUT THERE. SO NEXT TIME YOU ARE ON GUMTREE CHECK UNDER THE GENERAL GOODS FOR SALE AND VISIT MY ADVERT. I AM TOYING WITH THE IDEA OF ADDING A LUNG TO MY SHOPPING CART. I AM A NON SMOKER SO SOME POOR EMPHYSEMA RIDDEN SOD CAN GET AN ADDED LEASE ON LIFE BY PURCHASING MY HEALTHY RIGHT LUNG. SO AS YOU CAN SEE I AM NOT ONLY TRYING TO BENEFIT FINANCIALLY FROM THE SALE OF MY BODY PARTS, I AM ACTUALLY A PHILANTHROPIST. BY JOVE I AM A KIND HEARTED STRAIGHT LACED DUDE. SOME PEOPLE OUT THERE MAY SAY I AM A SICK TWISTED PSYCHOTIC MANIAC! TO THEM I SAY BALDERDASH...... I AM SIMPLY A COMPLICATED DUDE.
MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847 0727943434 michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com

TILL DEBT DO US PART

2010-08-12T13:17:00.000+02:00

TILL DEBT DO US PART
THE STORY OF THE DEBT COLLECTING INDUSTRY

THIS IS THE TALE OF AN INDUSTRY BUILT ON THE BACK OF SUFFERING AND MISGUIDED MISFORTUNE. DEBT IS A NATURAL BY-PRODUCT OF DAY TO DAY LIVING IN A “FAST FOOD” SOCIETY. HUMAN NATURE DICTATES THAT WE REALLY DISLIKE WAITING FOR ANYTHING, BE IT WATCHING PAINT DRY OR WAITING TO OWN THE NEWEST MOST OUTRAGOUS GADGET THAT HAS JUST BEEN LAUNCHED ONTO THE MARKET THAT IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE OUR LIVES EASIER AND MORE FULFILLED. PEOPLE RUSH OFF IN THEIR DROVES TO PURCHASE THE LATEST “SMART” PHONE WHICH JUST MAKES ITS USERS LOOK STUPID. HOW MANY THINGS HAVE YOU PURCHASED THAT YOU STILL CANT OPERATE LIKE YOU SAW IN THE ADVERT? HUMANS JUST HAVE TO HAVE IT END OF STORY, NEVER MIND THE COST. THIS IS WHERE THE DEBT HIGHWAY CATCHES EVERYONE OUT. THE SHOPS ADVERTISE ALL THESE MARVELS WE MAKE BELEIVE WE WANT AND CANT POSSIBLY LIVE WITHOUT. HOW WOULD WE KNOW, WE HAVENT ACTUALLY TRIED TO LIVE WITHOUT OUR CELL PHONES, GARMINS, LAPTOPS, PDA`S, MP3`S,50 INCH LCD FLATSCREENS, Wii,PLAYSTATION 3, 6.2 SURROUND SOUND DTS HOME THEATRE ETC FOR LONG ENOUGH TO ACTUALLY SEE THAT THEY ARE NOT THE BEGIN AND END ALL OF OUR LIVES. HOW THE HELL DID THE WORLD MANAGE TO ROTATE AND HUMANS SURVIVE IN THE DAYS BEFORE THE GADGETS TOOK OUR MINDS HOSTAGE?
THE NATURAL THING FOR US TO DO IS RUSH OUT LIKE LEMMINGS TO THE HI-FI CORP AND BUY THE GADGETS THAT ALL COME WITH INCREDIBLE PRICE TAGS THAT ARE DOUBLE OF WHAT SOME THIRD WORLDIAN EARNS IN A YEAR. BUGGER THAT WE NEED THE LATEST BLU RAY DVD MACHINE REGARDLESS OF THE COST, WE WILL SIMPLY GET IT ON CREDIT ITS FRIKKIN` MARVELLOUS. THE STORE WHIPS OUT THE APPLICATION FORMS QUICKER THAN YOU CAN SAY “FORECLOSURE AND REPOSESSION” AND WITHIN MERE HOURS YOU ARE WHISKING A 10 GRAND FLATSCREEN TV HOME IN THE BACK OF YOUR CAR ALSO PURCHASED ON HP TO YOUR HOUSE THAT YOU PAY AN EXTORTIONATE BOND ON TO THE BANK. YOU SEE THIS AS YOUR HOUSE, THAT IS BULL SCHTEIN! IT IS THE BANKS HOUSE, YOU ARE PAYING RENT TO LIVE THERE BUT THE BANK IN THEIR WISDOM HAVE CALLED IT A BOND TO MAKE YOU FEEL SUPERIOR TO YOUR CONTEMPORARIES WHO SIMPLY RENT. IN THIRTY YEARS OR SO THE BANK THEN SAYS ITS YOURS ONCE YOU HAVE PAID FOR THE PLACE A FEW TIMES OVER. THE SAME APPLIES TO “YOUR” CAR WHICH THE BANK OWNS AND YOU ARE MERELY “HIRING” TILL YOU HAVE ACTUALLY ALMOST PAID FOR TWO BECAUSE OF THE INTEREST. THIS IS WHERE PEOPLE GET THEMSELVES INTO TROUBLE. ITS CALLED GREED AND STUPIDITY. THESE TWO ARE BEST FRIENDS AS ARE IGNORANCE AND ARROGANCE, THEY JUST SEEM TO GO HAND IN HAND, BESTEST FRIENDS TO THE BITTER END.

THE SUPPLIERS OF THE GOODS WE CHERISH SO MUCH AND ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO OWN ARE A SLY BUNCH OF CON ARTISTS AND LEGAL CROOKS, THEY ADVERTISE THE THINGS THEY KNOW WE COVET AND “NEED” ENDING OFF WITH THAT ELUSIVE PHRASE THAT PAYS FOR THEM AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SCREEN WHICH IS USUALLY VOICED OVER IN UNBELEIVABLE SPEED SO AS TO WHIP IT BY OUR EARS ALMOST BECOMING INAUDIBLE, “TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY”. WHEN LAST DID YOU ACTUALLY SIT AND READ ALL THE JARGON IN A “TERMS AND CONDITIONS APPLY “ SECTION OF A CREDIT CONTRACT OR EVEN ON YOUR P.C? HAVE YOU TAKEN THE TIME TO WAFT THROUGH LINE AFTER BORING LINE OF A WINDOWS TERMS AND CONDITIONS, THE LATIN INFUSED RAMBLINGS OF YOUR LEASE AGREEMENT. WHO THE HELL SPEAKS LATIN TODAY, OTHER THAN A COUPLE DUDES IN THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH? HELL NO! WE SIMPLY SIGN OR CLICK “NEXT” TO GET TO THE GOODIES. SO ALL GOES WELL AND SWELL, THE PLASMA TV. BIG ASS FRIDGE AND ELECTRIC POPCORN MACHINE ARE DELIVERED TWO DAYS LATER, “WAHOOO” AINT CREDIT GREAT???? THE FUCK UP COMES TWO MONTHS DOWN THE LINE WHEN THE BILLS START STACKING UP IN YOUR POST BOX AND YOU HAVE JUST COME TO TERMS WITH BUYERS ADDICTION AND HAS NOW TURNED INTO FULL BLOWN GRUDGE PURCHASE IN RETROSPECT, THE DARN POPCORN MACHINE ONLY POPS A THIRD OF THE KERNELS AND RENDERS THOSE UNPOPPED STERILE. THE BIGSCREEN T.V. IS MAKING YOU BLIND AND YOU ARE ONLY ABLE TO WATCH A PORTION OF THE PICTURE BECAUSE YOUR LOUNGE IS NOT WITHIN PROPORTION TO YOUR 50INCH SCREEN, SOMETHING AKIN TO SITTING FOUR FEET FROM THE SCREEN AT THE DRIVE IN AND THE STUPID FRIDGE IS NO LONGER SEALING PROPERLY AND A HUMUNGOUS ICE BERG IS FORMING BEHIND THE CRISPER DRAWER. ONCE THE EUPHORIA OF WATCHING AVATAR HAS RUN ITS COURSE AND THE GROTESQUE OVERSPENDING ON YOUR BUDGET TO FILL YOUR NEW FRIDGE WITH ALL MANNER OF YUMMY TREATS THAT YOU FELT WERE ABSOLUTE NECESSITIES BECAUSE YOU WERE HIGH ON DOPAMINE RELEASED BY THE BRAIN. THIS CHEMICAL IS IN GREAT ABUNDANCE IN THOSE WHO GAMBLE, BUNGY JUMP AND DEAL CRACK COCAINE ACCROSS THE ROAD FROM NUMBER 1 POLICE PLAZA DOWN TOWN . ITS A RUSH LIKE NO OTHER. UNFORTUNATELY IN TODAY`S WORLD WE NEED SO MANY DOPAMINE FIXES TO FEEL GOOD THAT WE BUILD THE DEBT PALACE UP AROUND US AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT THE WOLVES ARE AT THE DOOR. SO BY DEFAULT IT ISNT THE CONSUMER WHO IS AT FAULT FOR DEFAULTING ON THEIR PAYMENTS, NAY, ITS THE WHOLESALERS AND PLETHORA OF SHOPS AND SUPPLIERS WHO WITH A WILLY NILLY WHO MAY CARE ATTITUDE HANDS OUT CREDIT TO ALL AND SUNDRY LIKE A TRENCH COATED WEIRDO HANDING OUT SWEETIES OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL GROUNDS TO THE KIDS. CREDIT IS DESIGNED TO LULL PEOPLE INTO A FALSE SENSE OF EUPHORIA. WHY WAIT AND LETS SAY , ,,, TRY OUR HANDS AT THAT ARCHAIC NOTION CALLED SAVING? “ GREAT GATSBY !“ WHAT A PREPOSTEROUS IDEA, HELL DO PEOPLE STILL PRACTICE THAT OLD TRADITION? AN EVEN MORE REVOLUTIONARY APPROACH IS THE LAY BYE OPTION, IT IS FAR MORE LOGICAL TO PURCHASE SOMETHING ON LAY BYE AND PAY EVERY WEEK OR MONTH FOR SAY, SIX MONTHS AND THEN OWN THE DOODAD YOU WERE ITCHING TO HAVE. YES SIX MONTHS TO GET THAT T.V. YOU DESIRE SEEMS LIKE A LIFE TIME IN TODAY`S “FAST FOOD” CULTURE HOWEVER IT IS FAR BETTER THAN GETTING IT IMMEDIATELY AND HAVE IT REPOSSESSED IN SIX MONTHS DUE TO THE INABILITY TO PAY YOUR INSTALMENTS. THIS IS WHERE THE DEBT COLLECTOR STEPS IN AND THIS IS WHERE MY STORY TAKES AN EVIL TWIST, A JOURNEY INTO THE MIRKY WORLD OF THE PEOPLE WHO COME KNOCKING AT YOUR DOOR, TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE DEFAULTING , PRODUCE DOCUMENTS AND TAKE YOUR PRIZED POSSESSIONS AWAY. SOMETHING LIKE THE JEHOVAS WITNESSES OF THE RETAIL INDUSTRY. WE JUST WANT TO TELL THESE PEOPLE TO FUCK OFF AND SLAM THE DOOR IN THEIR FACES. HOWEVER THE “FORCE” IS WITH THEM.

WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE!

THE DEBT COLLECTOR OR TRACER AS IT IS ALSO REFERRED TO IS NO LONGER A BURLY BALD HEADED GOATEE BEARDED THUG THAT ROCKS UP AT YOUR DOOR AND KICKS IT OPEN, LOADS YOUR POSSESSIONS AND LEAVES YOU FEELING VIOLATED. NOPE, THOSE WERE CALLED THE VIKINGS AND YOU WERE USED TO FEELING VIOLATED AND DISENFRANCHISED WHEN THEY CAME BANGING AT YOUR DOOR....
THE DEBT COLLECTOR OF THE MODERN AGE ARE A FAR SCARIER BREED, THEY ARE MADE UP OF NORMAL EVERYDAY PEOPLE. THE LADY LIVING NEXT DOOR, THE 23 YEAR OLD YOUNGSTER OR EVEN THE 60 YEAR OLD RETIRED POLICE MAN. WHEN THEY RING YOUR DOOR BELL THEY COULD EASILY BE MISTAKEN FOR KIRBY VACUUM CLEANER SALESMEN. ONCE YOU ARE LULLED INTO THE FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY AND LET THEM INTO YOUR HOME THEY PRODUCE DOCUMENTATION THAT STATES THAT YOU ARE IN “X” AMOUNT OF ARREARS AND THE GOODS IN QUESTION HAVE BEEN AUTHORISED FOR UPLIFTMENT, UNLESS YOU MAKE A “P.T.P” OR PROMISE TO PAY. IT IS USUALLY THE INSTALLMENT AMOUNT OF WHICH THE DEBT COLLECTOR GETS A PERCENTAGE OF SAID AMOUNT. IT IS WORTH NOTING THAT EACH TRACER HAS A PILE OF 30 OR SO “CLIENTS” AS THE PEOPLE WHO ARE ENDEBTED UPTO THEIR EYEBALLS ARE REFERRED TO AS. SO IF IN A DAY THE TRACER DRIVES AROUND AND SEES “X” AMOUNT OF CLIENTS HE OR SHE CAN BEGIN WORKING OUT HOW MUCH THEY WILL BE TAKING HOME AT THE END OF THE MONTH, NATURALLY IF A CLIENT DOES NOT PAY THE PROMISED AMOUNT THE TRACER GETS HIGHLY PISSED OFF BECAUSE THEY ARE LOSING 15% OF THE PAYMENT PROMISED BY THE CLIENT. HERE I MUST JUST ADD THAT THE CLIENTS ARE IN SERIOUS ARREARS BY THE TIME THE TRACER GETS THE CONTRACT TO COLLECT MONIES OR THE GOODS, IT IS THEREFORE BLATANTLY OBVIOUS THAT THE CLIENTS ARE IN DEEP DWANG AND CANNOT PAY AS IS OBVIOUS BY THE ARREARS. THIS IS NOT NUCLEAR RECTAL PHYSICS, ITS COMMON SENSE. THE DEBT COLLECTOR DOES NOT SEE IT THIS WAY. TO THE TRACER THE CLIENT IS FUCKING THEM AROUND AND PLACING THE TRACER IN A PICKLE WITH THEIR ABILITY TO PAY THEIR DEBT. A COMEDY OF ERRORS ROLLED UP IN A CATCH 22 SITUATION WITHIN AN ENIGMA SLOWLY MORFING INTO A PARADOX. WHEN THE TRACER DOES REPO SOMETHING THEY TAKE THE GOODS TO A STORE ROOM AND IMMEDIATELY GET TWO HUNDRED RAND , SO WHEN THE TRACER NEEDS CASH FOR PETROL OR THAT EVENINGS BOOZE THEY SIMPLY PICK A CLIENT WHO THEY KNOW WILL SIGN OVER THE GOODS AFTER TALKING TO THEM SO THEY CAN GET THE REPO REWARD. ONCE THE GOODS ARE IN THE STORE ROOM THEY REMAIN IN BOND FOR 30 DAYS. WITHIN THESE 30 DAYS THE CLIENT CAN MAKE ARRANGEMENTS TO PAY THEIR ACCOUNT ARREARS UP TO DATE AND THE GOODS WILL BE RETURNED BY THE TRACER WHO CAN LEGALLY ARRANGE A “DELIVERY’ FEE. HOWEVER THIS IS NEVER REALLY DONE AS THE CLIENTS WHO ARE SO FAR IN ARREARS CANT EVEN PAY THEIR INSTALLMENT OF THREE HUNDRED RAND FOR EXAMPLE SO HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY GOING TO SCRATCH OUT THREE GRAND? A GOOD EXAMPLE OF PEOPLE WHO GET SUCKERED INTO DEBT BY THE CHAINSTORES EASY CREDIT IS A PARTICULAR CLIENT WHO LIVES IN AN INFORMAL SETTLEMENT IN A THREE SIDED BRICK STRUCTURE WITH ONE SIDE MADE OF CORRUGATED IRON, THERE IS NO FORMAL FLOOR IN THE “HOUSE” THIS IS , THERE ARE BO TILES, WOOD, VINYL OR EVEN CEMENT. THE FLOOR IS IN FACT SAND COMPACTED BY YEARS OF WALKING ON IT, THERE IS HOWEVER A PINK CARPET ON THE FLOOR INBEDDED WITH MUD ON WHICH STANDS A GARGANTUAN LG FRIDGE FREEZER, I BELEIVE IT TO BE A 380LITRE EXPRESS COOL FRIDGE WITH A STICKER PRICE OF AROUND FIVE GRAND, ADD TO THAT THE INTEREST AND COSTS ETC LOADED ON BY PURCHASING IT ON HP AND WE END UP WITH A SUM IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF THIRTEEEN GRAND. THIS SOLD TO A PERSON WHO LIVES IN WHAT BOILS DOWN TO A SHACK IN AN INFORMAL SETTLEMENT WITHOUT GUARANTEED PERMANENT EMPLOYMENT. HOW DID THEY GET CREDIT? ITS NOT REALLY THEIR FAULT, THEY WENT TO SAID SHOP AND APPLIED FOR A REDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE FRIDGE AND GOT IT. I BLAME THE CHAINSTORES AND THOSE WHO SO EASILY GIVE CREDIT TO THOSE WHO ARE IN NO POSITION TO ENSURE MONTHLY PAYMENTS. THE INSTALLMENT MAY ONLY BE THREE HUNDRED RAND OR SO BUT THEY ALSO HAVE TO PAY A BIT ON RENTAL, TRANSPORT TO WORK WHEN THEY ARE EMPLOYED, SUPPORT FAMILY, BUY GROCERIES, BOOZE, CLOTHING ETC AND ALL THIS ON A WAGE THAT A PERSON WHO LIVES IN AN INFORMAL SETTLEMENT IN SQUALLOR. IT IS WORTH NOTING THAT THOSE WHO LIVE IN INFORMAL SETTLEMENTS, TOWNSHIPS AND LOCATIONS DONT EARN THE BIG SALARIES. SALARIES OF FOUR HUNDRED RAND A WEEK ARE THE NORM FOR THESE INDIVIDUALS. .REALLY.. ANOTHER VERY UNFAIR EXAMPLE OF GIVING CREDIT TO THE WRONG PEOPLE IS THE FOLLOWING SAD TALE OF WOE AND THE REASON I CANNOT TAKE UP THIS LINE OF WORK. I FEEL IT IS BAD “JUJU” TO ARRIVE AT PEOPLES HOMES AND TELL THEM TO PAY OR LOSE YOUR ONE AND ONLY NEW DECENT POSSESSION YOU HAVE OWNED IN THEIR LONG LIVES. I WENT TO A RETIRED MARRIED COLOURED COUPLES TINY FLAT IN A TOWNSHIP TO INFORM THEM OF THE IMPENDING REPOSESSION OF THE 102CM LCD FLATSCREEN T.V. THAT THEY WATCH LOCAL STATIONS ON. THEY DONT OWN A DVD OR DSTV SO ITS JUST SABC CHANNELS THEY WATCH ON THE HUGE SCREEN AND THE PICTURE IS FUZZY AS THEY DONT HAVE AN OUTSIDE ANTENNA, LONG SINCE BEEN STOLEN BY THE JOBLESS YOUNGSTERS WHO STOLE IT AND FLOGGED IT AS SCRAP METAL TO BUY BEER. WHEN I WALKED INTO THE BUILDING I WAS GREETED BY THE GANG STYLE GRAFFITI, YOUNG WOMEN HANGING ABOUT IN THEIR HAIR ROLLERS, SLIPPERS AND SHORT SKIRTS BEING OGLED BY AFOREMENTIONED YOUNG GUYS SITTING ON THE CORNER DRINKING BEER AND PASSING A BONG AROUND. THE ELDERLY COUPLE OPEN THE DOOR AND INVITE US INSIDE, THE FIRST THING I NOTICE OTHER THAN THE OUTSIZED T.V. THAT TAKES UP MOST OF THE IMPOSSIBLY SMALL LOUNGE IS A MOUNTED PHOTO OF THE COUPLE TAKEN BACK IN 1945 WHEN THIS GENT SERVED IN THE COLOURED CORP DURING THE SECOND WORLD WAR, HE IS PROUDLY DRESSED IN HIS UNIFORM AND NEXT TO HIM IS HIS WIFE WHO STILL STANDS BY HER HUSBAND AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. NATURALLY BOTH ARE ON PENSION AND TODAYS GOVERNMENT PENSION IS ONE THOUSAND AND EIGHTEEN RANDS PER MONTH (1018.00). THEY BOTH GET PENSIONS SO ITS A GRAND TOTAL OF R2036-00 THAT MUST PAY RENT, FOOD, CLOTHING, SUPPORT KIDS WHO ARE UNEMPLOYED AND PAY FIVE HUNDRED RAND A MONTH FOR THE LCD FLATSCREEN T.V. IF I HAD MONEY THAT DAY I WOULD HAVE PAID THE INSTALMENT FOR THEM. HOW COULD THE CORPORATION OF HI FI`S GIVE THEM CREDIT FOR A NINE GRAND T.V. THAT WORKS OUT TO ALMOST TWENTY GRAND IN THE END? THEIR ADDRESS AND AGE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A CLUE TO THE COMING ARREARS. THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN ADVISED TO MAYBE TAKE A MORE AFFORDABLE T.V. WITH LOWER REPAYMENTS TO ALLEVIATE THE STRESS OF HAVING US ARRIVE AT THEIR DOOR AND BE THE BEARER OF SHIT NEWS, ESPECIALLY ON A FRIDAY JUST IN TIME TO FUCK UP THEIR WEEKEND. THEY KNOW THEY ARE IN ARREARS, THEY KNOW THEY MADE A BAD CHOICE , BUT IN THE GREED THAT SUPPLIERS HAVE THEY DONT CARE THAT PEOPLE CANNOT AFFORD WHAT THEY ARE BUYING ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ARE IN THEIR “GOLDEN YEARS” OR IN OTHER WORDS, ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE. I BLAME THE PEOPLE WHO GAVE THE CREDIT TO START WITH. WHAT I FEEL LIKE TELLING THE OLD COUPLE IS TO SAY THE FLATSCREEN HAS BEEEN STOLEN AND DEFAULT ON PAYMENT AND GET BLACKLISTED, SO WHAT IF THEY ARE , ITS NOT LIKE THEY ARE ABOUT TO BUY A HUGE HOUSE IN CAMPS BAY OR MERCEDES BENZ SL65 AMG ON CREDIT AT THIS AGE. THIS IS OBVIOUSLY NOT THE JOB FOR ME, I DONT WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE REPO GUY WHEN I WALK IN THE STREETS. THERE ARE A LOT OF PEOPLE OUT THERE THAT CAN AFFORD TO PAY THEIR ACCOUNTS AND JUST DONT SEEM TO CARE, THEY EARN FANTASTIC SALARIES BUT MISMANAGE THEIR LIVES WHICH QUALIFIES THEM FOR VISITS BY US. THESE PEOPLE HAVE NO REAL EXCUSE OTHER THAN GREED AND STUPIDITY TO BLAME, THESE PEOPLE DONT LIVE IN INFORMAL SETTLEMENTS.
NOW I AM NOT SAYING THAT THOSE WHO LIVE IN INFORMAL SETTLEMENTS CANT GET CREDIT OR BUY NICE THINGS, NO, THEY MUST BE INFORMED AND ADVISED PROPERLY OF ALL AVENUES OPEN TO THEM. THIS APPROACH SHOULD BE PRACTICED WITH ALL CUSTOMERS AND SALESMEN TRAINED TO INFORM THE CUSTOMERS. THE SALESMEN HAVE BEEN TOLD TO SELL SELL SELL, THE CREDIT DUDES ARE TOLD TO CREDIT CREDIT CREDIT, THE HEAD OFFICE WANTS TO SEE THE SALES FIGURES AND FORGETS OR IGNORES THE TRUTH THAT MORE THAN HALF WILL FALL BEHIND ON THEIR REPAYMENTS WHICH THEN NECESSITATES THE USE OF DEBT COLLECTORS AND ATTORNEYS WHO ARE CONTRACTED TO RECOUP MONIES OWING. THE ATTORNEYS TAKE A CUT AND SO DO THE TRACERS, WHICH LEAVES A SHORTFALL INEVITABLY WHICH THE SUPPLIER WANTS FROM THE PURCHASER SO IN THE END THE CLIENT WILL INEVITABLY BE BLACKLISTED AS THEY WONT PAY FOR SOMETHING THEY DONT HAVE IN THEIR POSSESSION ANYMORE, IT GOES COMPLETELY AGAINST HUMAN NATURE AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT ESPECIALLY THE SUPPLIERS AND ATTORNEYS. YOU DONT BECOME AN ATTORNEY BY BEING STUPID AND THE SAME GOES FOR THE CEO OF THE STORES. THEY WANT US TO RUN INTO DEBT, IT IS A SICK WORLD AND I DONT WANT ANY PART OF IT.

SO NEXT TIME YOU ARE OVERCOME BY THAT MYSTERIOUS NEED TO COMPLICATE YOUR LIFE AND DELVE DEEPER INTO DEBT BY BUYING SOME INSANE GADGET ON CREDIT, THINK TWICE. CREDIT TODAY RETRENCHMENT TOMORROW. THIS DOES HAPPEN AND ITS AMONG THE WORST VISITS UNDERTAKEN. I KNOW..... I HAVE BEEN ON BOTH SIDES OF THIS PHENOMENON. DONT TAKE ME WRONG OR AS THE 70`s BAND SANTA ESMERELDA SO DEFTLY DESCRIBED IT,,,,, “DONT LET ME BE MISUNDERSTOOD”, I REALLY AM GRATEFUL THAT I WAS GIVEN THIS OPPERTUNITY AND HONOURED IN A WAY THAT AS ABBA SAID THESE PEOPLE WERE WILLING TO “TAKE A CHANCE ON ME” HOWEVER I FEEL THAT THIS WILL KILL MY SOUL DUE TO THE OVERBEARING FACT THAT UP UNTIL TWO WEEKS AGO I SOLD EVERYTHING I OWNED AND TRAVELLED CLEAR CROSS OUR REPUBLIC TO START MY LIFE AGAIN WITH NOTHING MORE THAN 59 KILOGRAMS OF BELONGINGS IN 3 KITBAGS, SIX HUNDRED RAND AND A HARDON TO MY NAME. MY ONLY GRACE IS THAT I OWNED EVERYTHING I SOLD TO EXTRACATE MYSELF FROM THE CAR WRECK THAT WAS MY LIFE. I LEFT ONLY MY LANDLORD IN THE LURCH BUT HE STILL HAS MY DEPOSIT SO I AM NONE TO BOTHERED BY FLYING THE COUP SO TO SAY. DEBT IS A MONSTER WHICH WE BRING ON OURSELVES AND I AM DEFINATELY NOT CUT OUT TO DO THIS PARTICULAR VOCATION. IT IS DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN AN EVEN STRAIN WHEN IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND YOU KNOW JUST HOW EASY IT IS TO GET IT ALL UP IN THE AIR. I AM THE PREVERBIAL POSTER BOY WHEN IT COMES TO LOSING IT ALL AND I SURE AS SHIT AINT GOING TO BE THE “FURNITURE REAPER” TO PEOPLE WHO FIND THEMSELVES IN SHIT STREET, THEY ARENT ENTIRELY SURE WHAT NUMBER BUT ITS SOMEWHERE IN SHIT STREET. I CANNOT DO IT AND FELT THAT I HAD TO RANT ABOUT IT TO BRING ABOUT CATHARSIS FOR MY MIND AND SOUL. ADD TO THIS THAT IT IS STRICTLY A COMMISSION BASED STORY AND ONLY STARTS SHOWING "DIVIDENDS" AFTER THE THIRD MONTH WHEN YOU HAVE BUILT UP A "RAPPORT" WITH YOUR CLIENTS,,, WHAT?!?!... YOU DONT BUILD UP A RAPPORT WITH THOSE YOU HAVE "DISOWN" OF THEIR BELONGINGS.THATS SICK AND AN ANACHRONISM AT BEST...
I DONT WANT TO LOOK THE GIFT HORSE IN THE MOUTH BUT THIS JUST ISNT REAL WORK. ITS BAD KARMA. LET SOMEONE ELSE DO IT AND PROFESS THAT THEY LOVE THIS JOB. HOW DO YOU LOVE A JOB THAT IS BORN ON THE BACKS AND MISFORTUNES OF OTHERS? PERSONALLY, I`D RATHER HANG DRUG DEALERS, TRADE POKEMON CARDS AND DABBLE IN BEADS. REPOSSESSING IS NOT IN MY SOUL.
MICHAEL B DA SILVA 0789489847 www.michaelbdasilva.20m.com
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com

DOUGAL AND THE AMAZING HELMET

2010-07-28T12:25:00.000+02:00

THE FISHY FLY FISHING TALE OF DOUGAL

SO THE SCENE IS SET.. AN IDYLLIC DAY, SOMEWHERE IN SCOTLAND, THERE STANDS “DOUGAL” IN HIS WADERS IN TRANQUIL SURROUNDS FLY FISHING ALL ON HIS OWNSOME.` TIS INDEED A PICTURE POSTCARD SCENARIO. HOWEVER AS THE CAMERA PANS BACK WE SEE THE HURRIED APPROACH OF THE MONKEY MOTORBIKE FILMED FROM THE RIGHT SIDE THEN THE LEFT. AS THE HARRIED RIDER APPROACHES WE SEE THE DAFT HELMET ADORNING HIS CRANIUM. SAID RIDER CRIES OUT IN ALARM TO DOUGAL THAT IT IS “BAD, VERY VERY BAD”. THE TONE IS ONE OF IMPENDING CATASTROPHE.

SO. WE UNDERSTAND THAT THERE IS A TERRIBLE CATASTROPHE THAT OUR INTREPID FLY FISHING PAL DOUGAL HAS TO SORT OUT POST HASTE! WITHOUT MISSING A BEAT, DOUGAL MOUNTS THE MONKEY BIKE AND THE TWO MAKE THEIR SPEEDY BATMAN AND ROBINESQUE WAY TO TOWN..... WHILST DOUGAL WAS IN THE RIVER FLY FISHING HE WAS WEARING A TYPICAL SCOT HAT. IN THE VERY NEXT SHOT WE SUDDENLY SEE AS IF BY MAGIC THAT DOUGAL IS SPORTING A HELMET JUST AS RIDICULOUS AS THE EVIL KENIEVEL CHARACTER HELMING THE MONKEY BIKE. THIS IS WHERE THE STORY STARTS TO WOBBLE A TAD. LET ME EXPLAIN.
IN TODAY`S NANNY, SUPER ZERO TOLERANCE, OVER BEARINGLY “SAFETY FIRST’ BORING ARSE WORLD WITH ITS SICKENINGLY OVERT POLITICAL CORRECTNESS IT HAS BECOME THE NORM TO OVERLOOK THE OBVIOUS MISTAKES AND CONTINUITY ERRORS IN TELEVISION ADVERTS, AS IS THE CASE WITH THE BELL`S DOUGAL AD. I AM SURE THAT IN AN EFFORT TO MAINTAIN THIS SAFETY FIRST ASPECT THE DIRECTOR INSISTED THAT DOUGAL SPORT THE REQUIRED SAFETY HEAD GEAR WHEN SEATED PILLION ON THE MONKEY BIKE EN ROUTE TO SAVE THE DAY AT THE LOCKED PUB. NOWHERE IN THE LEAD UP TO THE SCENE WHEN THE INTREPID DUO ARE SPEEDING TO THE PUB DO WE SEE A “SPARE” HELMET ON THE MONKEY BIKE. IT WOULD BE RIDICULOUS TO SURMISE THAT DOUGAL JUST PER CHANCE HAD A HELMET IN HIS TACKLE BOX. IF BY A THUMB SUCK WE ARE LED TO BELIEVE THAT PERHAPS DOUGAL HAD HIS OWN SCOOTER, THEN WHY DIDN`T HE RIDE IT TO THE PUB? SO WE CAN DISPENSE WITH THAT THEORY RIGHT NOW. ANYWAYS , WHEN WE SEE THE DUO ARRIVE AT THE PUB DOUGAL IS ADORNING THE HELMET UPON HIS DOME , FORWARD A MILLIFRAME TO THE INTERIOR SHOT OF DOUGAL `S FIRST ATTEMPT AT FLY FISHING THE KEYS FROM THE COUNTER HE IS MAGICALLY ONCE AGAIN SPORTING HIS CAP. BY JEEVES ITS A FUCKING MIRACLE! ONCE THE HERO OF THE MOMENT HAS SECURED THE KEYS WITH HIS LINE AND “SAVES” THE DAY SO THAT THE LOCALS DONT MISS THE KICK OFF WE SEE EVERYONE WITH A DRINK IN HAND, BIG BROAD SMILES AND CHUFFED AS CHAUCER THAT THE DAY IS SAVED, ONLY THEN DO WE HEAR ONE BEARDED SCOT BELLOW “ OY! GET THAT MAN A BELL`S”. WHAT A BUNCH OF UNCOUTH SELFISH LUSHES. IT BASICALLY BOILS DOWN TO FUCK THE DUDE THAT JUST LEFT WHAT HE WAS DOING, RODE PRECARIOUSLY PERCHED ON THE BACK OF A MONKEY BIKE DEFTLY CLINGING ONTO HIS ROD WITH ONE HAND, RETRIEVING THE KEYS UNDER STRESSFUL CONDITIONS AND VERBAL WARNINGS THAT THEY WERE GOING TO MISS THE KICK OFF. DOUGAL SAVES THE DAY ONLY FOR THE LOUTS AROUND HIM TO STORM IN AND SORT THEMSELVES OUT WITH BEVERAGES AND TOTALLY IGNORE THE HERO OF THE DAY. I TRULY HOPE THE GAME THEY WERE ITCHING TO WATCH WITH SUCH URGENCY WAS THE 2010 WORLD CUP GAME BETWEEN ENGLAND & GERMANY.

AND NOW I DIGRESS. , ,

ON THE OTHER HAND THE DIRECTORS AND AD COMPANY THAT DREAMT UP THE HYUNDAI TUCSON ADS SHOULD BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED FOR THEIR IDIOTICALLY IRRESPONSIBLE ADVERTS. HERE THE COMPANY SHOULD BE CENSORED, FINED AND BANNED FROM PRODUCING SUCH BAD ADS! THE ADVERTS IN QUESTION ARE THE TUCSON AD THAT SHOWS A KNOCKOUT BLOND BOMBSHELL OPENING A TWIST OFF TOP BEER WITH HER EYE SOCKET. NOW THAT IS AN AD THAT SHOULD BE STRICKEN FROM TELEVISION. EVERYTIME IT AIRS ON T.V. I QUICKLY TURN IT OFF SO THAT MY IMPRESSIONABLE 6 YEAR OLD SON DOES`NT TRY OPENING A COKE BOTTLE THE SAME WAY LEADING ME TO LOAD SAID SON WITH RIPPED EYE SOCKET FROM THE BEVELED SHARP RIM OF THE BOTTLE CAP INTO THE CAR AND RUSH HIM TO THE HOSPITAL FOR WHAT WILL TURN OUT TO BE MONTHS UPON MONTHS OF RECONSTRUCTIVE PLASTIC SURGERY. BESIDES THAT WHAT THE HELL HAS A BLOND A BEER BOTTLE AND A HYUNDAI TUCSON DOING IN THE SAME ADVERT ANYWAY?? PLEASE EXPLAIN IT TO ME. MOREOVER I SEE IT AS SLIGHTLY DEMEANING TO BLOND CHICKS, THAT THEY ARE SO BIMBOESQUE THAT THEY WOULD SMUDGE THEIR “RIMMEL OF LONDON” MASCARA BY OPENING A BEER BOTTLE USING THEIR ORB SOCKET. ITS JUST PLAIN FRIKKIN DUMB!!!!!! THEN WE GET TO THE “TOUGH COOKIE” THAT SQUASHES A SCORPION WITH HER BARE FOOT, THAT HYUNDAI TUCSON AD ALSO UNLEASHES THE PREVERBIAL “WILD HAIR” UP MY ARSE. ITS A PLAIN AND SIMPLE DILLY ADVERT THAT SHOULD BE NEXT IN THE DELETE QUEUE SIMPLY FOR BEING TASTELESS AND HAS VERY LITTLE TO DO WITH A CAR. YES, THE VOICE OVER AND BLURB WILL HAVE YOU BELEIVE THAT THE TUCSON IS TOUGH BUT THATS ACTUALLY TOTALLY WRONG. A TWO TON TUCSON WILL EASILY SQUASH A SCORPION, CAT, DOG, SQUIRREL, POT BELLIED PIG, ARMADILLO`S , YOUNG CHILD ETC BENEATH ITS TYRES. ITS NOT AN AD PROFESSING TOUGHNESS. ITS AN AD SHOWING BAD TASTE AND STUPIDITY. WHICH WOMAN WOULD SIMPLY SIT THERE AND WITH A BARE FOOT SQUASH A SCORPION WITH A SHIT EATING GRIN ON HER FACE? SHE AINT TOUGH, SHE`S FUCKING PSYCHOTIC! I REALISE THIS IS A BIT OF A DEPARTURE FROM MY ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS IN THE BELL`S DOUGAL ADVERT AND A SEEMING TURN AROUND ON THE NANNY STATE THEORY PERTAINING TO THE MAGICAL APPEARANCE AND DISAPPEARANCE OF THE HELMET. HOWEVER IT MUST BE NOTED THAT BESIDE THE RUDE LUSHES IN THE DOUGAL AD AND THE THERE AND THEN NOT THERE HELMET WHICH I SUSPECT WAS JUST TO APPEASE SOME SAFETY NUT FROM SLATING THE AD AS PROMOTING UNSAFE ROAD USE, THE HYUNDAI TUCSON ADS ARE JUST PLAIN STUPID, IRRESPONSIBLE IMMATURE FIRST YEAR AD SCHOOL STUDENT PROJECT.
YOUR ADVERTS ARE QUAINT AND HAVE POTENTIAL, ITS JUST A PITY YOU MISS THE BALL SO TO SPEAK ON SMALL DETAILS THAT IN THE END STAND OUT LIKE A “HARDON” IN A NUNNERY. I TRULY DO ENJOY YOUR ADVERTS AND I AM VERY PLEASED TO SEE THAT YOU HAVE RETIRED FERGUS AND HIS LOST DREAM OF THE ELUSIVE HOLE IN ONE THAT HAUNTS HIM. IT WAS STARTING TO TORTURE ME TOO. HOWEVER, PLEASE LETS SEE FERGUS GET HIS HOLE IN ONE. THAT WILL LIFT THE SOULS OF ALL EVEN NON DRINKERS.
FOLLOWING IS THE ORIGINAL LETTER I WROTE TO YOU PERTAINING TO THE FERGUS ! HOLE IN ONE DEBACLE
MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847
michaelbdasilva@yahoo.com

Wednesday, September 9, 2009
FOR WHOM THE BELL`S TOLL
THE TALE OF FERGUS AND QUASI MODO
IT IS WITH MUCH TREPIDATION AND CONCERN THAT I WRITE THIS LETTER OF GRIEVANCE TO YOU PERTAINING TO YOUR PRODUCT!

THE HISTORY OF ARTHUR BELL AND HIS SONS IS A GREAT ONE. STEEPED IN TRADITION SINCE 1825 WHEN FIRST BLENDED. IT TOOK ARTHUR TILL 1904 AND UNDER ADVISEMENT OF HIS SONS TO LABEL HIS BLEND AS “BELL`S”. THE ICONIC “AFORE YE GO” WAS USED AS A TATAA TO SOLDIERS LEAVING FOR THE WESTERN FRONT DURING WORLD WAR 1. EACH POOR SUCKER GOT HIS “WEE DRAM” AT THE DOCKS BEFORE EMBARKING ON HIS LAST TRIP TO MEET THE GERMANS IN FRANCE. BELLS OLD SCOTCH WHISKY IS SAID TO BE MADE FROM 35 DIFFERENT MALT AND GRAIN WHISKIES, EACH MATURED BETWEEN 3 AND 12 YEARS. I WOULD REALLY DIG TO VISIT THE BLAIR ATHOL DISTILLERY IN THE QUAINT TOWN OF PITLOCHRY. MAN THIS IS AMAZING..

THEN...... COMES THE ADVERTISEMENT ON SOUTH AFRICAN TELEVISION THAT PERPLEXES AND VEXES ME SO. WE SEE A WONDEROUS SETTING AT A SEASIDE GOLF COURSE WITH AN OLD TIMER STATING THAT HE HATES THIS GAME. “ALL I WANT IS A HOLE IN ONE”. THE PEOPLE IN THE PUB AT THE 19TH HOLE WATCH WITH BATED BREATH AS AFOREMENTIONED OLD DODGER TEE`S OFF AND WHACKS THE BALL DOWN THE GREEN. THE PUB MEMBERS SILENCE AND WAIT TO SEE THE HOLE SHOT. THE BALL THEN ROLLS AND DEFLECTS OFF THE FLAG POLE. THE LOOK IN THE OLD DUDES FACE AND THE BUILT UP EXCITEMENT FIZZLING OUT IN THE BAR PATRONS FACES IS PALATABLE. IT FUCKING BREAKS MY HEART AND ANNOYS ME NO FRIKKIN END. THE OLD DUDE HAS ALREADY SAID HOW HE HAS BEEN PLAYING THIS FUCKING GAME FOR 50 YEARS OR SO. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF DIVVETS, GIVE THE MAN A FRIKKIN BREAK!!! IN THE AD WE SEE EVERYONE TRANSFIXED AS THE BALL FLIES TRUE AND WE EVEN SEE A HOT BIRD LIFT FROM HER CHAIR ONLY TO BE LET DOWN. PLEASE REVISE THIS AD AND SHOW THE DUDE FINALLY GETTING THE HOLE IN ONE BEFORE THE “ACTOR” YOU USED DIES AND THE HOT BROAD THAT STANDS UP OUT OF THE CHAIR CAN STILL DO SO WITHOUT THE USE OF A ZIMMER FRAME. THIS IS CRUELTY TO OLD FOLK. LEAST OF ALL ITS AN AD THAT HANGS IN THE AIR WITHOUT CONCLUSION.. IS THIS WHAT YOU ARE SAYING ABOUT YOUR PRODUCT?

PLEASE LET US SEE FERGUS GET HIS HOLE IN ONE AND INSTEAD OF LOOKING LIKE A BROKEN MAN AT THE BAR SAYING “AYE, TOMORROW SAME TIME” LET HIM HAVE HIS DAY IN THE SUNSHINE. PLEASE! I EMPLORE YOU! DONT LEAVE POOR OLD FERGUS LIKE THE STORY OF QUASI MODO, SOME HORRIFIC MISHAPEN BROKEN HIDEOUS FREAK WHOSE ONLY OUTLET IN LIFE WAS TO DEAFEN HIMSELF AND RING BELL`S IN THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL WHILE HAVING SICKLY FANTASIES ABOUT ESMERELDA. HE NEVER GOT HER AND WAS LEFT WITH BLUE BALLS.! IS THIS THE IMAGE YOU WANT TO PORTRAY ABOUT THE POOR OLD FART IN THE AD SLUMPING OVER HIS DRINK AT THE PUB?????? HE LOOKS LIKE HE IS ABOUT TO CHUCK HIMSELF OFF THE CLIFF. PLEASE REMEDY THIS ADVERTISEMENT FOR THE LOVE OF YOUR BRAND. I AM NOT A BIG WHISKY DRINKER, BUT I WILL NOT WITH A GOOD CONSCIENCE ORDER OR PURCHASE BELL`S BECAUSE OF YOUR DILLY TELEVISION AD. I SIMPLY PUTT PAST AND BUY THE BRAND THAT DOESNT ADVOCATE TRIALS AND FAILURE.
PLEASE LET FERGUS GET HIS HOLE IN ONE!!!!!!!!!!!
YOURS TRULY: A TORTURED SOUL : MICHAEL B DA SILVA
0789489847

MOON UNIT ZAPPA

2009-10-09T17:56:00.000+02:00

MOON UNIT ZAPPA
THE LUNATICS ARE UP TO IT YET AGAIN
OR, HOW WE NEVER WENT TO THE MOON IN THE FIRST PLACE

NASA AND THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT ARE UP TO IT AGAIN. THE QUEST TO BE MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE . THE LATEST NASA EXPERIMENT TITLED LCROSS (Lunar Crater Observation and Sensing Satellite) BUILT BY NORTHROP GRUMMAN (who incidentally also build military war planes) HAVE LAUNCHED A ROCKET TO THE MOON THAT IS PRE PROGRAMMED TO SLAM INTO THE LUNAR SOUTH POLE AND DRIVE INTO THE SURFACE VIA AN ENORMOUS EXPLOSION CAUSING A CRATER. THIS “SATELLITE” AS THE NAME ALLUDES TO IS NOTHING BUT A SMART BOMB BEING SENT BY DUMB PEOPLE. IT WILL IMPACT THE LUNAR SURFACE AT 25KM`s PER SECOND STILL ATTACHED TO ITS SECOND STAGE BOOSTER FOR EXTRA OOMPH. THE SCIENTISTS FIGURE THAT THIS IMPACT IN A ZERO GRAVITY ENVIRONMENT WILL THROW UP AN ENORMOUS DUST CLOUD INTO SPACE WHICH THEY CAN THEN SAMPLE FOR WATER. YEAH RIGHT! NO SHIT SHERLOCK, THE IMPACT AT THAT SPEED WILL DAMN RIGHT MAKE A CRATER AND CHUCK UP SOME DUST. COME TO THINK OF IT THE YANKS DID SOMETHING SIMILAR DURING WORLD WAR TWO OVER DRESDEN GERMANY AND THEN OVER JAPAN WITH ATOMIC WEAPONS. THOSE EVENTS ALL CHUCKED UP SOME DUST ALLRIGHT, ESPECIALLY IN DOWNTOWN HIROSHIMA. WHAT THE SCIENTISTS FAIL TO GRASP IS THAT THEY ARE FUCKING AROUND WITH THINGS THEY JUST PLAIN DONT KNOW ABOUT. WHAT IF SAY FOR INSTANCE THEY ,,, HIT A FAULT LINE, YOU KNOW LIKE THE ONES BACK HERE ON OLD TERRA FIRMA? WHAT NASA AND THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT ARE DOING IS “BOMBING” THE MOON.

THIS THEN ALSO SHOWS THAT NASA HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT IS HAPPENING ON THE MOON OR ANYTING TO DO WITH THE MOON. HELL, THEY APPARENTLY WERE THERE IN 1969. SOMEHOW I DOUBT IT. WHEN PEOPLE ASK ABOUT WHEN MAN WILL BE GOING BACK TO THE MOON, NASA HAVE ALL MANNER OF EXCUSES AND TIMELINES OF 20 YEARS BEFORE MANKIND CAN GO BACK. WHY? THEY SUPPOSEDLY DID IT IN 1969 WITH BASIC ANALOGUE TECHNOLOGY AT BEST. I THINK WE WERE ALL HOODWINKED BY NASA AND MAYBE JUST MAYBE THE MOVIE “CAPRICORN ONE “ WASNT SO FUCKING FAR FETCHED. ....

THE LUNAR LANDING WAS FAKED BY STANLEY KUBRICK ON A SOUNDSTAGE IN ARIZONA FOR NASA SO THAT THE WORLD WOULDNT BE HORRIFIED BY ASTRONAUTS DYING IN SPACE ON A BOTCHED LUNAR LANDING USING 1960`s TECHNOLOGY .. THAT CAN BE THE ONLY LOGICAL EXPLANATION. ESPECIALY IF WE LOOK AT NASA`s LATEST EXPERIMENT OF DROPPING A “BOMB” ON THE MOON. HELLS TEETH , HASENT MANKIND ADVANCED IN LEAPS AND BOUNDS?. THE LCROSS “DEVICE” IS LAUDED AS A LUNAR CRATER OBSERVATION AND SENSING SATELLITE WHICH JUST HAPPENS TO CRASH INTO THE LUNAR SURFACE. FUCKING GENIUS! LETS TAKE THIRTY MILLION DOLLARS AND PRANG IT INTO THE MOON TO SEE DUST AND A HOLE. WHO THE HELL DOES MANKIND THINK WE ARE? WE ARE NOT HAPPY WITH “RAPING” THE EARTH AND ITS RESOURCES FOR MONETARY GAIN, NOW WE ARE LOOKING TO OUR MOON AS THE NEXT CASH COW FOR CAPITALISTIC AND MILITARISTIC GAIN. PLANET EARTH AND ITS INHABITANTS ARE THE AL QAEDA OF THE GALAXY. SO ,THUS & THEREFORE MY OWN PENNED QUOTE THAT PLANET EARTH IS THE SKIDMARK ON THE COSMIC UNDERPANTS IS VALID AND A TRUISM IF THERE WAS EVER ONE. AS FOR NASA... SIRS . YOU ARE IDIOTS AND HAVE NO BUSINESS SCREWING AROUND WITH THE MOON. STOP WASTING MONEY ON CRAZY ARSE ENDEAVOURS THAT ARE POLLUTANT AND CHANNEL THE FUNDS INTO RESEARCH THAT DOES NOT INVOLVE VIOLENCE AND DESTRUCTION. THE MOON SURE AS SHIT DOESNT NEED ANY MORE HUMAN SPACE JUNK POLLUTING THE LUNAR SURFACE.
HANDS OFF THE MOON. HAVE YOU LOT NOT BROKEN ENOUGH? WE AS MANKIND HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO BUSINESS CRASHING SHIT INTO THE MOON TO SEE DUST CLOUDS AND THE HOPE THERE IS WATER. I AM SURE THAT IF YOUR COMPUTERS AND SENSORS PICK UP OTHER MINERALS THAT WILL JUST BE A “ OH GEE WHAT A BONUS” MOMENT. OH BULLSHIT.!!! YOU LOT ARE LOOKING FOR RARE MINERALS THAT HAVE WEAPONS CAPABILITIES AND CAN BE MINED FOR USE IN MILITARY APPLICATIONS. THIS WHOLE “WE ARE LOOKING FOR WATER” IS JUST A BULLSHIT “RUSE”. WE ARE NOT AS DUMB AS YOU THINK WE ARE. LEAVE THE MOON ALONE! YOU ARSE HOLES NEVER WENT THERE AS HAS BECOME OVERWHELMINGLY CLEAR BY YOUR ARCHAIC SINGLE STRAND THINKING OF EFFECTIVELY BOMBING THE MOON AND TRYING TO SELL IT OFF AS SCIENCE. YOU LOT ARE SNAKE OIL SALESMEN. PEOPLE ARE NOT AS GULLIBLE AS THE “MR ROGERS” OF THE SIXTIES. PEOPLE HAVE WISED UP TO YOUR SHENANIGANS.

LEAVE THE MOON ALONE!

MICHAEL B DA SILVA 0789489847 +27789489847
http://michaelbdasilva.blogspot.com ww.michaelbdasilva.20m.com

GENDER BENDING

2009-09-25T12:49:00.000+02:00

CASTER SEMENYA: what i think. . . part 2.
ADRENOGENITAL SYNDROME

complex of symptoms resulting from an excessive secretion of androgenic 17-ketosteroids by the adrenal cortex. (These androgenic hormones further the development of masculine secondary sexual characteristics—the growth of body hair, deepening of the voice, development of male body build, and so on.) The adrenogenital syndromes of infancy and childhood are caused by genetically determined deficiencies in the synthesis of cortisol by the adrenal glands, with a resulting excess of androgen production by those glands. The impending or actual shortage of cortisol triggers an increased secretion of adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH) by the pituitary gland, which in turn increases cortisol production by the adrenals back to normal but also simultaneously raises above normal the adrenals' production of androgens (i.e., the androgenic 17-ketosteroids).
In infantile adrenogenital syndromes, simple virilism (the development of masculine secondary sexual characteristics in the female or their precocious development in the preadolescent male) is the chief result. The syndrome may produce malelike genital changes (pseudohermaphroditism) in females and excessive penile development with small testes in males. A deep melanin skin pigmentation is usually present, and there may also be an abnormal loss of sodium, severe hypertension, lipoid hyperplasia, dehydrogenase deficiency, or altered levels of steroid hormone production in general.

In adults the adrenogenital syndrome, since it causes masculinization, may be relatively unnoticed in the male, but it brings about virilism in the female. She develops a male body build, receding hairline, facial and body hair, atrophic breasts, acne, enlargement of the clitoris, and an irreversible deepening of the voice. Menstruation and ovulation cease, and there is a heavy masculine musculature.

THIS IS TAKEN STRAIGHT FROM THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA VERBATEM.

THIS ISNT MEANT TO BE AN ATTACK ON THE HE SHE SEMENYA, HOWEVER I AM SURE THAT IF SHE IS TESTED FOR THIS PARTICULAR AFFLICTION IT WILL UNDOUBTATELY BE UNEQUIVOCALLY PROVEN THAT THIS UNFORTUNATE PERSON IS AFFLICTED BY ADRENOGENITAL SYNDROME.
LOOK IT UP FOR YOURSELF AND YOU BE THE JUDGE. IT IS STILL HOWEVER A TRAVESTY ON JUST HOW BAD THE POLITICIANS AND ATHLETICS ASSOCIATION TREATED CASTER SEMENYA.. THEY SHOULD ALL BE BUTT FUCKED FOR TURNING HER INTO A FREAK SHOW TO SIMPLY PROMOTE THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN AGENDA`S.. I WOULD NOT BE AT ALL SURPRISED IF WE DONT SOON HEAR OF CASTER`S SHOCK SUICIDE DUE TO ALL THIS BOOHAA THAT WAS BROUGHT UP BY THE PRESS BUT TURNED INTO A CIRCUS BY THE ARES HOLES IN THE “ASA” AND SOUTH AFRICAN GOVERNMENT. YOU LOT SOLD OUT AN INNOCENT , VERY CONFUSED AND GULLIBLE YOUNGSTER FOR YOUR OWN GREEDY ENDS. I FUCKING HOPE THE MEDAL WAS WORTH THE CIRCUS YOU STARTED. IT WAS KNOWN PRIOR TO THE EVENT IN BERLIN THAT SHE HAD UNDERGONE TESTING AND CHUENE YOU KNEW WELL AND FINE THAT SHE WOULD BE INVESTIGATED BY THE IAAF AND THE MEDIA. YOU SIMPLY LIE AND LIE AGAIN SWEARING BLIND THAT YOU DIDNT LIE ONLY TO THEN SAY YOU LIED TO PROTECT CASTER AND THEN LIE ABOUT THAT LIE. YOU ARE AN ISUFFERABLE BUFFOON! YOU SHOULD QUIT AND IMMEDIATELY MOVE BACK TO YOUR KRAAL WITH YOUR KRAAL MENTALITY. OH AND WHILE YOU ARE AT IT TAKE THAT DUMMY THAT HEADS THE ANCYL WITH YOU. THERE IS NO PLACE IN SOUTH AFRICA UNDER OUR CONSITUITION FOR RACISTS AND IDIOTS WHO INCITE AND PERPETUATE HATE SPEECH! YOU SIRS ARE IDIOTS AND WE AS A NATION HAVE NO USE FOR VILLAGE IDIOTS ESPECIALLY THOSE IN AREAS OF “POWER”! VOETSEK!!

IN CONCLUSION::::::::::::::::::::: YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES!
What everyone fails to grasp is that caster is human and has feelings regardless of gender!

MICHAEL B DA SILVA:

IN DEFENCE OF THE DUMMY

2009-09-16T21:16:00.000+02:00

THE WORLD IS FILLED WITH DUMMIES, BOTH THE SHOP WINDOW VARIETY WHO BEAR SILENT WITNESS TO THE WORLD AND THE REGULAR EVERYDAY DUMMY.
WE AS HUMANS ARE INUNDATED EVERYDAY WITH DECISIONS AND CHOICES. WHAT TO WEAR, WHERE TO GO ,WHO TO BE WITH ,WHO TO TRUST ,WHO TO KILL ,WHO TO IGNORE ,WHO TO LISTEN TO, WHO TO DO BUSINESS WITH, WHICH COMPANY TO WORK FOR, DO MY SOCKS MATCH MY OUTFIT, DID I PUT CLEAN UNDERPANTS ON THIS MORNING, HAVE I BRUSHED MY TEETH? ITS A SENSORY OVERLOAD. THE STRESS OF MODERN LIFE IS EVER INCREASING. A SINGLE SOLITARY BAD CHOICE CAN MEAN THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SUCCESS AND OUTRIGHT FAILURE. WE ARE A DRIVEN SOCIETY THAT HAS TO MAKE VITAL DECISIONS ON THE MOVE. THE DAYS OF SITTING DOWN AND CAREFULLY THINKING PROPOSALS THROUGH AT THE KITCHEN TABLE WITH THE FAMILY OVER THE WEEKEND ARE OVER.

IF WE PROCRASTINATE OVER A DECISION WE ARE LITERALLY OVERRUN BY VULTURES AND WOLVES ALL SLOBBERING AFTER OUR POSITION IN THE FOOD CHAIN. DECISIONS OF TODAY ARE OF THE “DRIVE THROUGH” VARIETY. THIS IS, BY THE TIME YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT WINDOW 1 TO ORDER, WINDOW 2 TO PAY AND WINDOW 3 TO COLLECT YOUR HURRIED UP CARDBOARD MEAL YOU MUST HAVE MADE A LIFE ALTERING DECISION THAT WILL EITHER RUIN OR MAKE YOUR LIFE. THE STRESS IS FUCKING ENORMOUS. YOUR MIND GOES INTO TURBO OVERLOAD.. ( FLASHES OF FERRARI`S, HUGE HOUSES, GOLF EVERY WEDNESDAY, BOTOX , BREAST AUGMENTATION FOR THE WIFE AND PRIVATE SCHOOLS ARE TRANSPOSED BY VISIONS OF POVERTY, BEGGING AT THE ROBOTS WITH YOUR CARDBOARD SIGN, REPOSESSION, HUNGRY KIDS AND A BUTT UGLY BITCH WIFE SLEEPING UNDER THE FREEWAY OVERPASS)

THROUGH ALL THIS PRESSURE TO MAKE WISE AND INFORMED DECISIONS THAT COULD ULTIMATELY RUIN YOUR LIFE YOU SEE THE “FORTUNATE” FEW WHO SEEMINGLY EFFORTLESSLY CRUISE THROUGH LIFE WITHOUT A SINGLE HASSLE OR CARE IN THE WORLD. THE “PROTECTED” AND “SHELTERED” INDIVIDUAL WHO GETS TO THE NEXT LEVEL IN LIFE THROUGH DEFAULT AND NOT BY LUCK OR FANTASTICALLY INFORMED DECISONS. NO ,, THEY GET THERE BY COAT TAILING AND FUMBLING THROUGH LIFE AS IF CARED FOR BY MYSTICAL GUARDIAN ANGELS CLEVERLY DISGUISED AS FAMILY AND CARETAKERS. ALL MISTAKES THAT ARE MADE AND ALL MANNER OF FUCK UPS ARE MAGICALLY OVERLOOKED AND BURIED, OR BLAMED ON OTHERS. THESE PEOPLE ARE THE DUMMIES IN LIFE WHO DEVELOP HUGE EGO`S AND THINK THAT THEIR SHIT DONT STINK, THEY BELIEVE THEY ARE SO INTELLIGENT AND AMUSING. AMAZING EVERYONE WITH THEIR FANTASTIC SENSES OF HUMOUR, WHICH IS ACTUALLY PLAGIARIZED FROM SOMEONE ELSE, AS IS THEIR DECISIONS ON BUSINESS RELATED ISSUES. THEY ARE “UNTOUCHABLES”. FUCK THAT!!! ITS TIME FOR THE MANNEQUINS OF THE WORLD TO UNITE AND REFUSE TO BE CALLED DUMMIES AS THESE HUMAN DUMMIES GIVE THEM A BAD RAP! THESE HUMAN DUMMIES ARE FOUND IN ALL SPHERES OF LIFE, FROM THE ICE CREAM PARLOUR TO THE FUNERAL PARLOUR. THERE IS NOT ONE BUSINESS IN THE WORLD THAT DOESNT HAVE ONE OF THESE DUMMIES. I WISH TO BRING OUT A BOOK OF SORTS, A MANUAL IF YOU WILL WHICH IS AIMED AT REGULAR PEOPLE AND HELPS THEM DEAL WITH DUMMIES IN THE WORK PLACE..... “DUMMIES FOR DUMMIES, A GUIDE ON HOW TO DEAL WITH FUCKWITS “.

I WILL NEVER AGAIN REFER TO A MANNEQUIN AS A DUMMY, THAT IS JUST PLAIN WRONG AND AN ANACHRONISM. IT IS AN INSULT TO MANNEQUINS! I WOULD RATHER HAVE A MEANINGFUL CONVERSATION WITH A MANNEQUIN IN THE SHOP WINDOW AT A SHOPPING MALL THAN ALLOW MYSELF TO SPEAK TO ANOTHER FUCKING DUMMY AGAIN! I EMPLORE YOU TO DO THE SAME. IF IT HAS NO COMMON SENSE, NO INTELLECT, NO BRAIN , GOT HIS POSITION THROUGH NEPOTISM OR AS A RESULT OF SOME OTHER SOCIAL FAVOUR AND IS IN YOUR AREA OF OPERATION, TREAT IT WITH DISDAIN. DONT WASTE TIME ON INGRATES! IT IS TIME YOU CAN NEVER AGAIN GET BACK AND YOU SURE AS SHIT WONT BE REWARDED FOR YOUR LOYALTY TO SAID DUMMY. THE DUMMIES ARE JUST THAT DUMMIES. THEY HAVE NO CLUE WHAT IS HAPPENING AROUND THEM BECAUSE THEY ARE ENSURED PROTECTION FROM THEIR OWN IDIOCY. THEY CAN MAKE AND BREAK AT A WHIM AND SOMEONE ELSE WILL BE THERE TO WIPE THEIR ARSES AND MAKE THE PROBLEM GO AWAY EVEN IF IT COSTS A FORTUNE AND MEANS OTHERS MUST SUFFER FOR THEIR BONEHEADEDNESS. THIS TROUBLES ME TO FANTASTIC DEGREES OF ANNOYANCE. I BUST MY CHOPS TO MAKE THE BEST OF A DIFFICULT LIFE AND THESE RECTAL THERMOMETERS JUST CRUISE THROUGH OBLIVIOUS OF WHAT LIFE IS REALLY ABOUT. THESE DUMMIES NEED TO BE MADE TO STAND ON THEIR OWN FEET AND FACE LIFE HEAD ON. THEY NEED TO ACCEPT THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS , THE CONSEQUNCES OF THEIR STUPIDITY AND LAZINESS. TO THOSE WHO PROVIDE PROTECTION AND SAFE HARBOUR TO THESE WING NUTS I SAY. PLEASE DONT PROMOTE THEIR IGNORANCE! MAKE THEM STAND UP AND TAKE RESPONSIBILITY. IF THEY ARE NOT CAPABLE OF RESPONSIBILITY, THEN DONT PUT THEM IN POSITIONS THAT ARE OUT OF THEIR DEPTH. IT WILL PROVE COSTLY TO YOU!!!! IT WILL TAX YOUR SOUL. THEY MUST BE MADE TO BE INDEPENDANT AND FREE OF THE APRON . WITHIN THEIR ABILITIES NATURALLY. . THEY MUST STAND TALL BEFORE THE MAN AND ANSWER FOR THEMSELVES. THE WORLD IS NO LONGER DISNEY LAND AND THIS WORLD HAS NO PLACE FOR LAZY FREELOADING INGRATES!

BE HARD ON THE DIM BULBS,

DO IT FOR THE MANNEQUINS.. THEY ARE NOT DUMMIES!

MICHAEL B DA SILVA.