The above is a very very noble campaign for a close friend. If you follow my blog or visit and you have blog of your own, all I ask is that you click the reblog button to make other people aware of her campaign. You can take it up a notch and actually donate. There are perks!!!
Below is an excerpt from her upcoming book which you can be a part of!
I have planted my best seeds in barren ground
Love is like light
You absorb some of it
Reflect some of it
And refract the rest
Not long ago we were on the same starting point in a circular course
But we were facing opposite directions
Now we approach meeting in the middle
Best if we collided and dwelled on a common point again
Else our meeting would be fleeting
And you’d become me and I you
And such a sad painful life it would be
If it’s your love that ends up silently shining into dark space.
Same sad life now, only for longer and for ever
It started by accident but it became routine for me and Georgios to have a drink every evening before heading home after work. We’d go to a small bar very close to the intersection at which our paths separated on our respective ways home. The bar was quite small but it was quiet and they allowed you to smoke. Most times, we went here to finish an argument or discuss workplace politics or sports or women. Actually, it was mostly women. We didn’t work for the same company, my company worked for his, but we were colleagues and had become good friends. We had the next day off work for it’d be the New Year.
We were at the bar on New Year’s Eve and the barman said to us as we got our drinks, “Happy New Year.”
“New Year? Pffft, you can’t be serious! What’s happy about it? Same shit, different year” Georgios said, walking away to our table.
The barman looked confused. I smiled at him and made a face that read: don’t mind my crazy friend.
“You just can’t wait to foist your social misgivings upon any innocent victim, can you” I said catching up with him as we sat down.
Georgios looked at me and stuck out his tongue. “I have to preach the gospel, man. The New Year is a waste of time and money”
Georgios has a very peculiar face. When you consider any one of his facial features separately, they look grotesque and not very proportionate. But all of them together as a whole make his face weirdly pleasant. It never ceases to amaze me.
“Of course, it’s of value. Many people use it to turn their lives around, for instance. New Year resolutions and all,” I said.
“Oh yeah? I suppose they can’t turn their lives around at any other time? Resolutions made in March are invalid, dead on arrival?”
“Well, I agree with you that one ought to change as soon as he or she sees the need for it. But that doesn’t mean everyone else sees things this way. For many people, the occasion of the New Year is grand enough to warrant this change or even cause it. We as a species appreciate landmarks. Look at a ruler for example. The marks are bigger at some points than others.”
“Wale. That has nothing to do with anything. Those are just for convenience. So you don’t lose track of your count.”
Georgios only calls my name when he’s very happy, very angry or when I’m making a fool of myself
“Hmmmn. You’re right, I take that back. Perhaps special birthdays are a better example. Those jubilee things, you know”
Georgios wasn’t impressed.
“The fact that we don’t share the same calendar makes the whole thing even more ridiculous. The Chinese, The Arabs, The Mayans” he said.
I saw he regretted saying that but I didn’t care.
“That’s not a very good point, George. We’re different people. The fact that almost everyone celebrates some sort of New Year makes it relevant. At the very least, every culture has some idea of a New Year even if it translates into something not quite. Like the New Yam festivals we have in Africa and such.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I still maintain it’s a pretty stupid idea to celebrate a day for the sake of it.”
“Well, if one were to be as pragmatic and stoic as you are, it’d be a stupid idea to celebrate anything at all”
“Well, I didn’t say I thought it made any sense celebrating anything at all. Some things are just stupider than others.
I knew he didn’t entirely mean this for I could see he was smiling as he sipped his margarita. But he wasn’t finished.
“All other celebrations are anniversaries of some significant event. Like the birth of Christ and even his dying. One could justify remembrance of some heroes who died for their country or some other similar stuff. But the New Year? What significant thing happened on the first first of January?”
“Arguing with a Greek man? I never learn. But consider this, George: I’m staying at home to finish the last twenty pages of the Dostoyevsky I’ve been reading and finally cook the shrimps I bought a month ago. You’re spending your time off out on a yacht with your wife. Now tell me again that the New Year is a waste of time.”
“Oh shut up, Wale. No one says I can’t benefit from the delusions of you mortals. Besides, if I were your boss, you’re not gonna get the day off”
“Oh? Thank God for democracy.”
“Ah, I see what you did there, you scoundrel”
With a chuckle, I raised my glass.
“To the New Year,” I said.
“To the New Year,” he replied.
The usual surprises, the usual favoritism and the usual you-gotta-hand-it-to-thems. It’s never boring. There were a shit load of films in 2012. A freaking bonafide honest-to-God feast. This is the Oscars. My favorite Award show!
Originally posted on National Post | Arts:
[np_storybar title=”Oscars 2013 red carpet: Video” link=”#1″]
Despite being snubbed for a best director nod, Ben Affleck’s Argo managed to go home with the top prize of the night, taking home the 2013 Academy Award for best picture.
Daniel Day-Lewis, meanwhile, made Oscar history with his best actor win, becoming the first actor to win three trophies for a leading role. Lewis won the award for his work in Lincoln — the film for which Steven Spielberg lost best director honours to Life of Pi director Ang Lee.
Jennifer Lawrence took home the best actress prize for her work in Silver Linings Playbook, beating out the oldest actress to be nominated in that category (Emmanuelle Riva for Amour), as well as the youngest (Quvenzhane Wallis for Beasts of the Southern Wild).
Below, a full list of Oscar winners in the major categories:
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Doctor Mahmud cleared his throat. What makes you think she’s cheating on you?
A lotta things
Doctor Mahmud waited for his patient to continue but after a few seconds of nothing, he asked.
Things like what?
Well, she comes home late now. And she forgot my birthday last week. Also she started wearing makeup. She never wears makeup.
And you believe she’s cheating based on these reasons?
You frigging tell me. You’re the doctor.
Dr. Mahmud checked his temper. He didn’t appreciate people being short with him. Especially idiots.
What I think does not matter. I’m not offering relationship advice. You’d need a counselor for that and then you’d need your wife to attend too. I’m only trying to make you feel better about yourself
I’m wasting my money then! I don’t feel better at all
That’s because you’re holding back your feelings.
Aren’t there drugs you can just gimme? That will make me jolly and shit?
Those are temporary measures and only for more severe cases or cases of depression with no apparent cause; depression as a disease, which requires cure.
Mr. Tinubu sat up from the reclining chair he was lying on. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but where he was.
Doc. This is how I see it. That idiot judge asked me to do this thing. You know that I don’t believe in this shit. You know I will not get better since there is nothing wrong with me. So, don’t you think you’re wasting your time?
You’re unwell. You tried to murder your wife with a champagne bottle
I told you she’s cheating on me. I was angry
Before that, you tried to impale your gardener with a pitchfork.
But, I’ve told you several times. That stub nosed bastard is screwing my wife. What else could he be doing inside the house? The garden is outside
The doctor made to look in his notebook as if he was consulting it but he actually knew all of Mr. Tinubu’s episodes of madness. Doctor Mahmud sighed.
Mr. Tinubu, you broke into a closed door conference meeting at the Hilton because you were convinced she was meeting her lover there.
Mr. Tinubu sighed too.
My wife is very cunning. What better cover for her than a professional meeting? I just did that so that I could see the bastards eyes and let them know that I know. They’re screwing each other alright.
Hmmm. Three days ago, you came home unexpectedly at 3am when you were supposed to be on a business trip, wielding a shotgun around the house looking for someone who wasn’t there.
Well, it seems the son of a bitch has some sense than to sleep over. I can rule it out. But he was there for I could smell his cologne in the bathroom and the bedroom
You certainly have an explanation for everything. But I can’t help but notice you have little or no anger directed at your wife. Why, may I ask, is this so?
Well, Viagra stopped working for me and I haven’t slept with her since after our wedding night. And I darned well overdosed on Viagra that night. So, I really don’t blame her. She has to find some action from someplace.
Uh huh. But when she does try, you get very angry.
Yes, of course, those bastard men have no right to screw my wife!
But she has a right to find sexual gratification somewhere else since you can’t help her in that department.
Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Mr. Tinubu said enunciating each word as if explaining something to a baby.
Dr. Mahmud had been scribbling in his notebook throughout their conversation but if Mr. Tinubu could see what he was scribbling, he’d find that it was just a word written across the page in very large letters. He’d find the word: CRAZY.
I woke up after a long nap yesterday, went about my business and promptly got assaulted by a sea of red. I hate red in most things but none surpasses red clothes. If I were Neo in The Matrix, I wouldn’t have given the woman in red a second look. And I’d have taken the blue pill. So nauseous was I of all the red that I had to come back inside and catch my breath. I put on the tube and some dude was bleating about the season of love or something. That was when I realized it was Valentine’s day. The blasted Valentine’s day.
I hate Valentine’s Day and all the commotion that comes along with it. Other people who tell you they don’t believe in Valentine’s because one should have a loving nature 365 days a year only piss me off even more. I could wait for a leap year and lynch all of such people.
In secondary school I bought this girl I fancied, but never really talked to, some expensive biscuits and an even more expensive greeting card. If you are thinking it was on Valentine’s day, you’re wrong. The occasion was her birthday but her birthday was so close to Valentine’s day my friends figured I could have two shots at the big kahuna.. The plan was give her the presents for her birthday and while she’s still thinking about how awesome I was, ask her out on a date with the Valentine thing as some sort of cover. Allow me to explain what cover means. The cover here signifies saving face in case she rejects you or even if she accepts the offer; she knows it’s more like a seasonal thing and you may or may not be interested in her per se but you have to go out with somebody because it is Valentine’s day and it might as well be her.
So the school has closed for the day and it is time to go in for the kill. I spot her outside eating my expensive biscuits. Sweet, I thought. She must be loving those and she might just say yes without giving much thought as to how short I am. She would have me on her palate if not her mind. There was no time to waste. Summarizing a long and traumatic story, I asked her to be that most ambiguous thing called ‘my val’ and she says to me, while drowning my expensive biscuits in her alimentary canal, that she already had a val. Huh? I wasn’t prepared for this variation in the script. I was ready to name the time and place but this response doesn’t solicit a time and place. In that instant it hit me that my allowance was getting crushed by her molars and my heart sunk. I was fourteen years old. I think if I was a woman, I’d have gone out with me back then. I was a sweet little thing..
This anecdote isn’t really why I hate Valentine’s day though it’s a major contributor. What drives me nuts now is that I find grownup men and women, acting like February 14th is a day ordained by God almighty to love someone or die trying. Some people that think that just because it’s Valentine’s day, I’d suddenly love your guts today; the same guts I hated so much yesterday. You see guys hoping that a pathologically shallow woman would choose the day to see beyond your unkempt hair, creepy sense of humour, zero sense of style, zero bank account balance and those sensational buck teeth. Some guys even develop the gumption to propose on Valentine’s day. Jeez! It’s probably a variation of the cover mentality I mentioned earlier.
Then there are the pretentious girls who measure the value of their lives by how many hearts they get to break or by how many advances they get to turn down. They actually do everything but slap a “ASK ME OUT” neon sign on their foreheads. These girls will tell you they have a val and once you’re out of their sight (sometimes they don’t even extend you this courtesy) they make an entry in their book of turned down bozos. Don’t buy them any biscuits or greeting cards and you may just walk away unscathed. Then there are the hopeless romantic (but secretly dominatrix) girls who expect you to open the door for them and call them my lady all day even though she hasn’t given you back the money you lent her since last month.
I hate red and I hate all the mushy commercials and all the Valentine’s day spirit crap because it reminds me I’m not with anyone right now and I feel so alone and left out. There, I said it. Sob sob.