Ek sien nie meer vir Kokkerman nie. Wie van julle skarmunkels het hom weggejaag?
Asseblief, Kokkerman, tramp weer hierdie kant toe. Hier is iets spesiaals vir jou:
Opgedra aan Kokkerman.
(Van die Doonesbury strip.)
In ‘n skool biologie klas.
Boy: You believe we’re descended from apes?
Girl: Well, boys definitely are.
Boy: And girls?
Teacher: So all the evidence massively supports a theory of evolution that knits together everything we know about biology.
However, as high school science students in the state of Louisiana [òf Kokkerman se huis], you are entitled to learn an alternative theory supported by no scientific evidence whatsoever! [Behalwe natuurlik Kokkerman se “bewyse”.]
It goes like this: 5700 years ago, a male deity created the heavens and earth and all life on it in six days …
Unfortunately, he didn’t like his own handwork so God created Genocide and drowned everyone on earth except the family of Noah, a 600-year-old man who was charged with saving animals …
Someone in class: Mr Stiller?
Someone in class: Please stop. I’d like to get into a good college. [In watter college was jy, Kokkerman?]
Teacher: Almost done. So Noah took two of everything including microbes, but forgot the dinosaurs….
Terug grot Savage. Al huilend vir die maan. Ek mis hom ook. Een van die snaakste godiote om hierdie blog te besoek. Ek wou nog altyd iemand wat in n 6000 jaar oue aarde glo, ontmoet. Nie eens Johannie is so eenvoudig nie….en dit vat baie.
Of nee Savage, korreksie. Na Johannie se laaste juweeltjies, sit die kroon van mees domonnosele godioot nog stewig op sy kop. Ek dink die man is ‘n opperste nar. Soveel onsamehangendheid het ek lanklaas teegekom. Of miskien praat hy in vreemde tale?
Johann jy gesels tog al te lekker saam al vir meer as 4 jaar. Anyway jy is darem al langer as ek hier. Wat probeer jy bereik? Ons glo nie en dis dit. Daar gaan geen geloofspronge gemaak word deur enige van ons nie. Jy is duidelik die aanhouer wat nie gaan wen nie.
Ja jy is seker reg Adriaan, julle het jul harte verhard en daardeur iets probeer “bereik” (?) . . . en nou sit julle met ‘n half opgeblaasde ego’s waarmee julle totaal geïdentifiseerd is. Ek weet dis moeilik en donker aan daai kant en om jouself daar uit te kry vat bietjie hambil joes wat ‘n opgeblaasde ego geen erg aan het nie.
As jy verstaan het wat ek bedoel met “ek praat met myself” sou ek halleluja geskreeu het.
Wil jy met vertel dat die prentjie daar bo is jou “realiteit” ? Photo shop, fyk boops myk ap, dit kon net sowel winkel poppe gewees het. En dis nie asof hulle beweeg het van ek laas gekyk het nie. En dit is vir jou “realiteit”? Dis sommer net pieksels wat op jou rekenaar skerm verskyn, met ‘n poging om simboliek by te voeg – sekerlik behoort dit aan jou on/bo-natuurlik wat nie bestaan nie? Of waaraan jy nie “glo” nie.
Net omdat jy nie iets verstaan nie beteken dit nie dat dit bestaan nie, of is dit nou weer andersom?
“Nooit”? – lê “nooit” net in die verlede of lê dit ook in die toekoms? Soos ek dit verstaan waarna die woord “nooit” wys is “Nooit” is ‘n baie lank tyd, “nooit” al die tyd wat daar is, daar is nie ‘n tyd wat buite “nooit” gebeur nie. . . ?
Dan voorspel jy dat ek in my leeftyd nie lekker seks gaan geniet nie, is dit deel van jou “magical thinking”?
On another level if I look at “what” you are saying, fisrtly “how did you arrive at “lekker seks”? Something must have triggerd your mind to start on this path that ends up at sex, could it be the “illusion” of a naked woman figure, nailed to a cross and been totally submissive that set off one of your fantasies? (Submissive to the photographer, make-up artists, and the pay she recieves for her modeling work, and so forth)
Secondly, wat ek “voel” saam met jou woorde is dat jy haat ekspres, haat teenoor my dat jy eintlik ‘n “wens” oor my uitspreek (‘n Vervloeking – dat ek nooit lekker seks kan geniet nie?). Jy het die konsep van “my” in jou kop geskep en dit bestaan net in jou “kop” . . . ? M.a.w. jy skep ‘n konsep in jou kop/ego/persona/mask/ens en dan haat jy dit. . .? Wat sou jy dan as “delusional” beskryf?
Dit laat my wonder wat daar nog in jou kop aangaan, miskien moet ons hard probeer kyk na wat “illusie” regtig beteken?
Yes, he seems to be terrified that I am putting a curse on him.
Johann, we don’t believe in witchcraft or curses – no wait, Fanie, that’s hopeless, he will think I am really sitting inside a pentagram sticking pins into a clay doll with “Johann” written on a piece of paper stuck to it with a thorn.
Dis ‘n manier om ‘n vraag te omseil. . . . . miskien kan jy dit deur jou duk vel kry, dis net die grade verskil tussen vervloeking en “pins in to a clay doll” die die konstruksie van die gedagte gange in die brein is dieselfde.
Hierdie paadjies in die brein wat deur die jare gevorm is . . . is dit “delusional”?
Molly jy “wys” nou net weer of ekspress jou “konsep” van God. Dit bestaan net in jou “kop”/ego/persona”/unreal self/ (kepus)/ens, om God te leer ken is nie iets wat jou k.e.p.u.s vir jou kan opdis nie, dis nie iets wat in ander mense se koppe aangaan nie, om op die kantlyn te staan en die spelers te kritiseer is stjoepit, get in the game, vat daai kans om die “onbekende” te betree, volgens jou eindig alles op in die groot niks, so hoekom jou lewe mors om “self righteous” te probeer wees?. . .k.e.p.u.s booster?
Why are you so sensitive about your sex life, whether it be existent, non-existent, in the past, present or future? Do you think that anyone on this blog cares about what you do or don’t do in your private life?
My neighbour still cares very much about what I do, or rather, what she would like to do to me.
I had new awnings put up on a couple of windows and while she was in hospital having chemotherapy her husband phoned to tell me I had left the sliding gate open after the awning people were here. I said, thanks very much, and a couple of days later gave him the business card of the awning people I am dealing with so they can check out his own torn awning fabric. He looked terrible, as white as a sheet, seriously stressed, said he was flat broke what with medical expenses. I said, don’t worry, the solution might be a simple one. On the QT I asked the awning contractor to check out the awning with a view to fixing it up next time he comes round and put it on my account, while charging the neighbour a nominal amount to make it look less obvious.
This contractor is a very decent guy, in fact he is a Christian himself but he walks the talk. He tells the neighbour’s wife that he can’t take the awning down without dismantling it, it is too big. The easiest would be for her or her husband to stitch the shade cloth back into place from a ladder. This she said her husband couldn’t do – understandable under the circumstances – so we offered to take the shade cloth off. The contractor said he would put it back up for her for nothing if she could somehow get it stitched together again. The plastic hooks and threads had perished with time.
So the fabric is off, and then the neighbour’s wife bawls out that my palm tree next to the wall is just as ugly as her unravelled awning fabric was, and must come down. This is a moerse big palm tree which has been there for at least thirty years by the looks of it, and is not harming anything. Some of the branches hang over the wall but are very high up, much too high to cut down. In the unlikely event that it should be torn down by a force Katrina storm it would land in my courtyard and onto my roof as it leans that way.
She then tells me her husband has had a nervous breakdown, but that he has a plan to recover the awning. He is on anti depressants to tide him over, she says, and will soon be back to his bubbly, busy self. That guy has been so depressed for years now, he walks as if he is in some kind of horror movie and is terrified of what might fly out at him.
I have heard her screaming and seen him walk out of the house looking as if he would like to vomit. She has caused trouble with neighbours up and down the street, complaining about their dogs, complaining about their cats, and now complaining about trees. She is off her depression medication while she is on chemotherapy. She was fucking horrible while she was on her depression medication too, but she is now even worse.
This is Stephen King horror stuff. And they are both supposed to be Christians, although in all fairness she lives by the Old Testament so cannot really be called a Christian. She has an absolute c*nt of a neighbour to her right who also lives strictly by the Old Testament and they have blackened my name to any visitor who dares to call on me. They know exactly how far they can take it without my lodging a restraining order. It’s constant, unrelenting harassment.
As ek dit nie mis net nie is jy die een wat seks opgebring het en nou dreig jy my met kastrasie angs. . .? Verwensing, vervloeking, “pins in a dol” – dieselfde dinge net die grade verskil.
En staan bietjie terug en kyk na wat dit is wat jou buurvrou “ekspres”. .? Oppervlakkig lyk dit of sy frustrasie, haat, en nyd “ekspres”, maar as mens dieper kyk sê sy of skreeu sy eintlik “ek soek liefde”. As jy nou nie so rigied was nie kon jy meer pret gehad het met haar deur haar liefde te gee en kyk hoe sy “reageer” (re-act).
As mens nog dieper wil kyk dan ekspres sy eintlik dat sy liefde wil gee en liefde wil “ekspres” en liefde ervaar, maar weet nie hoe en met wie nie.
You have to be really messed up from a very early age to act out like that. It’s not her fault, I agree. My advice to her husband to get in touch with my own contractor to help with their awning must have seemed very threatening to her. Nothing will come of her threat to my palm tree. It will all blow over. Best to just stay polite but not get involved. They have their own friends and family.
I have often remarked that the most important memories that drive neurosis, our behavior and our symptoms are those that cannot be remembered; at least not in the way we think of memory. Therein lies the rub. Because what can you say when the body “remembers” something that affects our eating habits for a lifetime? And yet we do not “remember” it? That is because we are too used to thinking of memory as recall; something we can figure out, that has content and words. So we therapists ask the patient, “Do you remember your childhood?” Or, “What can you tell me about your childhood?”. The truth is, “Practically nothing”. Because the important stuff, the experiences that change us radically have no words; they long predate the use of words. Why? because we have found that gestational life and birth traumas change us significantly, and until we can wend our way down the chain of pain we are never aware of these experiences and how they motivate and steer us. It is when the neuronal circuits of the brain are getting organized which will direct our lives thereafter.
So what does a “body memory” mean? When a carrying mother is under-nourished, her baby will have a much greater chance of obesity later in life. He (his body) remembers it all. We can only put a name on it after months of our therapy where the baby is again a baby crying out for food. And he feels the deprivation and pain of it all. Or, in a study of mice, they found that the “memory” of nutritional deprivation can be passed onto the sperm of the offspring. (“Inherited memory of poor nutrition during pregnancy passed through the sperm of male offspring.” Science Daily, July 10, 2014)(see:http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/07/140710141547.htm).
We might say that neurosis means we are walking around in the constant grip of unremembered memories that the body remembers. We can be “aware” of its harmful effects but unconscious of it. We never experienced the pain of it. Awareness lives on high in the brain, devoid of the direct feeling of agony. It can explain, rationalize or deny but never experience it. How about the feeling of helplessness when unable to move out of the womb into life on the planet? I have seen how some male patients who have relived that hopeless, helpless feeling see why they could not be aggressive in sex; why they give up so easily and feel defeated so quickly, losing their erection. They cannot “go all the way”. I know this sounds so psychoanalytic but it is observational science at work.
It is not a concocted hypothesis drawn out of my derriere. These are epigenetics in process creating havoc in our system, and we never know why because we cannot “remember” it. When we get down to preverbal experience we can finally “remember” it all. Now we know why Cialis is such a big seller. Until we remember we have no control of the memory. We only see its later effects, and because it is still a mystery, we find a doctor who will help us suppress those effects until we no longer experience even the results of the memory. Enter the erection booster, a doctor who has the secret answer to our sex problem. And since nothing but the real memory is liberating these “experts” can devise all sorts of treatments suppressing the symptom, and any of them might be “effective” for a short time. It has to be short time because the driving source/force is still alive in the subterranean caves of the unconscious. Can’t concentrate? Might be imprint of chaos lying deep in the brain. These memories are so powerful because they are often catastrophic in content, and also life-threatening. Lack of nutritional when we are ten is not nearly as life-threatening as lack of it at six months in the womb. This includes a mother’s chronic depression who has a “down” effect on the fetus. Most of it, including biologic processes are “down regulated”. There is poor appetite later on, lack of energy, and so on. He is no longer a self-started; he needs to be encouraged or led as he cannot get himself to anything spontaneously. Suffocating from the mother’s constant smoking or taking “downers” he learns a passive style of life from the very start. He will need the same uppers his mother needed in order to get going. All because he cannot remember. And worse, he cannot try to remember as it will produce the opposite effect. He will use the top of the brain to try to get to what is deep down. It is like trying to sleep when there is constant noise from outside. It keeps the neo-cortex active when it should lie quiet. The same brain at different stages of maturity. When there are many deleterious imprints, the top level is constantly activated and cannot relax or shut down. And if we have to get up out of bed, and shout out of the window at the bikers making a racket, all is lost, and that includes sleep. Suppose now we never knew about the bikers: it is the brain making all the noise that keeps us from sleeping. We are complete victims. Of whom? Ourselves.
I emphasize the early months here seeming to neglect the later years. Those later years are critical in shaping our lives out of the crucible of the gene/epigene foundation. But the early months are also heaviest in methylation, indicating to me that this is where the central damage gets done; where the imprints that sculpt our later lives are laid down. It is where the needs that make us human are predominant. Neglect here has terrible consequences.
Which selves? The methylated ones, of course. Why are they methylated? Because they are signs of our wounds from very early on; the stripes/traces foretell of disasters yet to be experienced. Those they foretell, as well, of the wounds/imprints we cannot remember in any cerebral way; the ones doing so much damage. So you think we can do Gestalt exercises and feel free? Think again; in order to feel free we must free ourselves from an overload of methylation, and in no other way. We need to experience what has never been fully experienced before. How come? Because the pain content was so great that it provoked the gates into action so that we would not experience it. Back then, we travelled a few millimeters into our private pharmacy and grabbed up as much serotonin as we could to stop the suffering. The problem now is we need to find a way to plunge into the suffering and finally be free of it forever. Too often we do the opposite. We take serotonin again to bolster the gates against memory (Zoloft, etc.). We deliberately make ourselves unconscious. And this is the way we try to get well?! Arthur Janov
Dit maak alles soveel sin, dis soooo naby en tog so vêr, ek’t al vir mad Mac probeer vertel waarom hy so “mad” is, maar hy hou blykbaar daarvan, hy is op ‘n plek waar hy so koeël kan voorgee om te wees, en dan rol hy nog ‘n zoll.
Nog ‘n amerikaner Brandon Bays het met die boek “The Journey” begin, na sy haar reis na binne geneem het en tot op die sel-geheue afgekom het, en sy maak nou ook baie geld en help ander mense, die hoofstroom sielkundiges dink ook haar metodes/teorieë is nog nie bewys nie en nou hang hulle maar rond in hul eiewaan en wag vir die wetenskaplikes om by te kom.
En as jy Fanie nou kan terug neuk na jou verlede en jou ouers vergewe en jou self ook, en weer jou liefdevolle vreugdevolle self kan wees, wat gaan jy dan doen?
Americans really know how to do bullshit. A friend’s daughter is convinced she has a metabolic disorder caused by her grandfather having been incarcerated in a concentration camp in his childhood years. Not during maternal pregnancy, but from the age of six until ten. He wouldn’t have thrived of course, but I knew him to be quite a fit guy but with a weak heart. He died of heart failure in his early forties. That would be consistent with childhood starvation. Now the granddaughter has mysterious symptoms that she has visited doctors all over Europe for, but nobody knows what the matter is. The only place where her condition is recognised and can be treated is in – you guessed it – Los Angeles. She wants her widowed mother to sell her property to pay for this treatment which is not “free” at all. People are conned into believing in fictitious diseases which they would never have heard of if they did not have internet access.
Interessant, miskien het die “man van die konsentrasie kamp” ge- reïnkarneer in die fisiese wêreld in sy so baie “grand” dogter en nou wil hy van sy issues opklaar.
Of daar is “minder” in die heelal as in ons verbeelding.
My internet is te stadig om video’s af te laai en ek is beslis nie lus om na ou Walg wors te kyk nie, maar ek dink darem die atijoote op die kotsblad lag hulself tot die trane rol. . . . . dit vat ‘n sekere mentaliteit.
Toe hy jonk was, so ‘n tingerige moffiekie was hy nogal snaaks, maar nou het hy dik geword en baie suur en hy kan spot met “strait” mense, maar ek hoor niks van die moffies nie. . . . aan die anderkant ek weet einlik nie wat hy doen nie.
I don’t mind Casper so much, but that ugly old diesel dyke Elzabe Zietsman gets on my tits – not literally, I am not that way inclined. Stupid bitch said Afrikaners should be ashamed to sing Die Stem. Fuck you, Elzabe!
I have been staggering around the supermarket holding onto the trolley like it’s a zimmer frame loading up with 5 litre bottles of mineral water. Still got leg pain but it’s sloooowly getting better. Fuck you Eskom! Fuck you Uthukela Water for taking our money and depositing it into offshore bank accounts/throwing weekly parties in Bergville/transferring our money to ghost employee bank accounts instead of maintaining the infrastructure!
Thanks Mac. Wish I composed it. Author unknown (lol)
Here is one absolutely great video to watch. Johann, Adriaan, everyone.
Sadly, just talking to people, as was the case with little jesus and Buddha,
whatever anyone thinks of them, has never done anything to actually remove the pain that resides within most of us.
Personally I would rather that someone puts a bullet in Zuma’s head. Or God strikes him down? Zuma has now Zumafied SARS so that neither he nor the ANC pay taxes. He has kicked out the investigative branch that dealt with contraband and money laundering and has assigned import duty collection to Home Affairs. So that lot will go straight to the ANC and not to SARS. We are in for a very shitty crime ridden year in 2015. Lots more civil unrest. Eskom cannot increase electricity price by 25% in April – who will buy it? – so expect far worse black outs than we had in 2008.
Jy weet Shmoly oor en oor in die mens se geskiedenis is daar een of ander mal bliksem wat alles en almal opfok. Hierdie ninja turtle look alike fokkop is besig om hierdie land so op te fok dat ek dink hy poog om te kyk of daar letterlik niks gaan oorbly nie. Die konsep van ‘n demokrasie werk nie in ‘n derdewereldse land nie. Jy kan nie gaan en 45miljoen ongeletterde idiote wat skaars sy eie naam en van kan skryf toelaat om die lot van die land te besluit nie. Afrika is ‘n land van staalkies en verhaaltjies. Baie urban legends en valshede ontstaan hier. Die probleem met die swartmense is dat hulle werklik in hulle siek twisted minds gedink het dat hulle gaan alles oorvat en net agteroor sit. Alles gaan dit self onderhou.
Dis kind of naief om vir ‘n ras wat nog nie eers uit hulle stoneage uit is van te verwag dat hulle ‘n Westerse beskawing gaan run. Gaan kyk weereens na die swart Afrika ras en hoe bitter ver hulle agter ander rasse is. Vat byvoorbeeld Madagascar. Dis die next door neighbour van Afrika en swartmense kon nie eens soontoe vaar met bootjies en gaan beskawing stig daar nie. Toe Christoffer Columbus in die Bahamas aangekom het in die laat 1400’s was die local inhabitants indiane. So selfs daai ouens het darem die tegnologie gehad om van Noord – Amerika of Suid – Amerika af te vaar na die naaste eiland. Weereens wat het die Afrika ras vir hierdie wereld beteken?
As jy mielies eet dink jy aan die Aztechs van Mexico, as jy reis eet dink jy aan die ancient Chinese. Of as jy werk op jou rekenaar dink jy dadelik aan die Westerse genius wat dit help invent het. Wat het die swartras reggekry? Nee wat gee hulle so 6000 jaar dan sal hulle dalk geselekteer het vir slim gene.
Ja ek weet nie regtig nie ek raai maar daai een. Maar ja hulle is fokken dom. En dom mense is bitter gevaarlik. Ek vrees dom mense soos party mense spoke en tokoloshes vrees. Ek se altyd – You have no right to your opinion! You have the right to your informed opinion.
Te veel word daar gese dat mens ander mense hulle se moet laat se, maar dit gebeur all the time en kyk wat is die gevolge. ‘n Opgefokte wereld! Nee gaan maak seker van jou feite en dan praat jy. Ek het dit vandag al weer vir die hoeveelste keer gesien. Mense sal enige snert sommer net glo. Dit bring my half en half weer uit by mense wat heel gemaklik sy dominee of pastor sal glo maar terselfde tyd blote common sense as nonens afmaak.
Ultra religious women are the most insecure. They think I will seduce their husbands. In a way I should be flattered, but their husbands are so dried out and boring that I am offended. The only dry meat that appeals to me is biltong. And then I will say to them, “Luister, jou man is so doodvervelig ek sal nie hom nie met ‘n tang aanraak nie.” Then they get more upset. If I had the inclination there are a number of single men in this place who would date me like a shot. No need to bugger around with married men. However, I am married myself.
Hoe kom jy oor die algemeen oor die weg met mense? Sukkel jy maar om met mense oor die weg te kom? Al wat ek weet is my groot hangup is dweepsiekmense, Ek vermy hulle so veel as moontlik. Hulle irriteer my verskriklik en hulle werk geweldig op my nerves. Elke keer dieselfde nonsense. ” Die Here het ons so geseen”. Dit in my opinnie is in elk geval godslaster ( As jy nou kyk daarna deur ‘n christelikke perspektief). Daar is ‘n paar mense met wie ek baie goed oor die weg kom en hulle glo wel maar hulle hou dit vir hulleself want dit is iets persoonliks. Ek het twee tannies wat totally dweepsiek is. Permanent is dit ” Die Here dit en die here dat”. Dit maak dat ek niks met hulle te doen wil he nie. Hulle bring ook permanent christelikke boeke en CD’s vir my.
I get on fine with everyone except stupid or sanctimonious people. I have a sarcastic wit that does not appeal to the very soft hearted or soft headed.
I agree with you about the ” die Here het ons geseen” stuff. It’s smug and supercilious and just as stupid as saying “Die Here sal my vergewe al doen ek dieselfde stupid shit keer op keer”.
I have never had a problem with neighbours before I moved into this place. Next door is a really bad case scenario but at least the husband realises I am not the bitch his wife makes me out to be. She moaned about the woman who lived here before me, she moaned about the B&B business that was run from this place before that, she just moans and complains all day long. Most people avoid her like the plague.
You also need to understand that the canvas that had come apart was hanging down in strips, some of it over my wall in my courtyard which is right next to the lounge and tv room. You could not avoid seeing that mess, and it carried on for two years with no indication of it being fixed.. We don’t have big stands, the properties are close together like townhouses. I had asked them a few times to repair it and got my head bitten off with comments about how they don’t have a maid or gardener like I do. They kept it like that to annoy me until the husband got to the point where he told me he wanted to sell the house but couldn’t show people around the property with that mess there.
And now we are being threatened with a complete breakdown of the water supply system. Every time the water supply is switched off and back on again the ancient pipes burst. Electricity cannot be simultaneously supplied to the water sewage pumps and Spioenkop Dam water pumps – if the one is on, the other is off. Daar is drolle in die drinkwater. Viva the ANC, viva IQ 70 cadre deployment, viva the kicking out of the white engineers, viva the white engineers leaving the country.
Zuma is right to blame Eskom’s problems on apartheid. If there had not been white people to build power stations there would not have been electricity in South Africa to begin with. What you don’t know you don’t miss. There are too many “clever” blacks who have an issue with no water or electricity. It’s just not African.