The musings of a silly student... And not much else.

The musings of a silly student... And not much else.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Having just said goodnight to Benjamin and sent him off to his res - Guy Butler - I was left thinking about the film we had just finished. It is called Se7en and was directed by David Fincher. I had showed it to Ben tonight because, despite being gory and disturbing, it highlighted some important questions he, as a young philosopher himself, had (or should have, at least) thought about in extensive detail.

What is the difference between 'good' and 'bad' and how did human beings come to the conclusions they now take for granted as being the only true and right way? Is religion causing progression or decline in society? What is decline, what is moving forward but a series of random events? What if...

Oh, I am going off on a complete tangent, which proves my personal theory that philosophy tortures your brain with questions and entices you with answers much like a carrot in front on a horse's mouth. The closer you move to the answer, the further away it moves...*

To continue where we last swerved dangerously off the road of reason, the rocks on the edge of the Abyss of Philosophy rolling dangerously underneath our tyres, Se7en also raises the question about the labels people place on each other and what they mean and what their worth to the building of meaning and understanding is to the individual making the prejudgment or society as a whole. What does "crazy" or "mentally ill" mean?

Before I lose the plot totally, I will stop right here. To my two loyal followers: don't watch this movie. You will hate it. There is no doubt about this fact. Spare yourself the disgust and agony, and spare me the worried looks and lectures.

At the moment I am listening to Modest Mouse, something you might like, mother (My heart's a bitter buffalo?) but not exactly Ouma's style. You can look me up on and see what I am listening to while I am listening to it, what I listen to most, what I love the most, what I listen to at what times, etcetera. Ouma, yet another social networking opportunity coming your way? How long are you still going to be on Facebook before there is no longer someone to 'friend' left on the face of the earth?

Today, as I was looking around the blue bathroom with humorous albeit slightly nauseating posters on the walls in my res, I missed my bathroom at home. I miss the bad toilet and the wonky shower and I miss the earrings in the incredibly excessive burglar bars (read: what the heck?) and that silly green little thing you insisted would really dry your whole body if you ever tried it on a bigger part of yourself than your glasses, and I miss how they really are an extension of your face, and I miss your light at the end of the passage and knowing I need to surf the internet in the dark, and I miss when Ella was crying about our lost (read: roaming) dog and I miss how he will always be the skinniest Daschund alive, and I miss hearing the low metallic clinkle (a mixture between clunk and tinkle) of Ella pouring food into the dogs' bowls, and I miss grumbling about the dishwasher (I really still will, believe me) and I miss teasing Ella about eating too slowly, I miss taking long baths in order to put off studying, I miss hating walking (I love it now - go figure)...

I miss Ouma on Tuesdays, and on Wednesdays and Thursdays and every other day of the week as well. I miss her box of sweeties and the pride I felt in having an Ouma with a whole box of sweets in her car just for me! I miss the day I was so little my feet still swung on the ridiculously tall Steers barstools, on which I was perched precariously as you complained about the size of your pattie and I was burning to say "Listen to me Ouma, I am a young person and I was born into the era of disappointment in but unwavering support for fast food stores and other mass producers of childhood joy, such as Toys R Us. I miss being a young girl with big ideas of herself and whose greatest (secret) dream was to run through one of the abovementioned toystores and grab everything my little fists could stuff into an enormous trolley in one minute. I miss my Oupa, my most special and treasured Oupa, and how much I still hate watching cricket. I miss trying to distract him countless times in order to change the channel (it never worked - Oupa is like a hawk, and very nimble). Ek mis julle, Ouma en Oupa.

I miss being anywhere but close to you, the people who raised me, raised hell in my life, raised my spirits... I long for one of your lullabies tonight, mamma.

*My comment on Philosophy sounds much more pessimistic than it truly is. I admire and respect Benjamin immensely for his profound knowledge, open-mindedness and beautifully poetic and honest opinions and his bravery in tackling those very big questions most of us are about as afraid to prod at as an aggravated shark in Florida.


  1. Maudlin in the middle of the night is as it should be, once you've left the cosy nest, and makes for very entertaining, heartwarming reading when you write it all down. I am SO glad you are a writer! This is pay-back time for the box of sweeties, which will forever and ever be JUST for you.

  2. You never liked watching cricket with me? And there I was, thinking that I was making a significant contribution to your general education. Me - a nimble hawk - YES!