John Stupart.com

You cock-juggling assmuppets! Why the fuck must you hog the entire lane with your fat, pot-bellied mid-life-crises spandex behemoths and your tiny-penis-compensating bike which costs more than my university education!?!?!

Why the hell can’t you cock jockies use any road BUT Oxford. Do you need the whole fucking world to see how awesome you are in your bright canary yellow tights while you ride next to your mates at 20km/h?!?! Can’t you ride in a single file and save us all the ballache of having to hoot and shout at you deaf fuckers while you refuse to move aside for the big people in the cars. What the hell is wrong with you people? Are the side roads not public enough? MUST you ride in the busiest fucking street in Johannesburg, and MUST you ride 3 abreast as if you’re some sort of fucking squadron of spitfires?!?!?

I swear, the next time a flotilla of cycling cocktards force me to trail behind them at 20km/h because they’re too fucking stupid or stubborn to move aside for the CARS, WHICH BELONG ON THE FUCKING ROAD, I’m going to start a rigourous regime of driving ahead of them, stopping in front and opening the passenger door as they ride past. I don’t pay taxes for roads so you useless twats can clog it up with your fitness regime. Haven’t cyclists heard of the fucking suburbs!?!?! Go play in there for chrissakes, not on a main arterial road in Joburg.

I hate you all and I want you to die.

/rant

In case nobody’s noticed my site has been completely revamped and, dare I say, restored to 100% functionality. Much thanks to my stalwart sibling for fixing it all, installing the theme, and patiently letting me pick the perfect wallpaper. Also, the blogroll has been updated with blogs that are actually updated, including Charlie Dunhoff, an ALT who lives in Sarufutsu’s neighbouring town of Hamatonbetsu, where Chris and I normally embarked upon numerous shenanigans. He’s a prolific writer and includes lots of photos, so it’s definitely well worth a looksee.

Also, the archives now work! Hurrah!

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Something else which is obvious to everyone but me, but losing a friend sucks! A very good friend of mine recently left for the sunny scandinavian polar regions and for a few days I’ve wondered what this empty, icky feeling was. At first I thought it might have been the spaghetti I made for dinner, but then I realised that I was actually sad. Genuinely, egte waarde sad.

Who woulda thunk it. John has feelings…

I am now 3 months into my South Africa decompression after returning from the supreme inaka that is Northern Hokkaido, and what do I have to say?

I’ve finally begun to remind myself that while Japan was indeed incredibly awesome and fantastic blah blah fishpaste, there was always a downside, be it the incredible solitude, the job or simply the lack of good beef. It’s so easy to think back on Japan with rose-tinted glasses because it’s really the kind of place that makes you forget the bad things so very easily. It gets lonely, sure, but then the weekend arrives right before you’re about to beat up small children/puppies with a baseball bat and you go snowboarding with some very good friends or grab some incredibly fresh sushi in Wakkanai which would make those mainland ALT’s cry at their inadequate failfish. It’s a very up and down kind of existence, and that’s pretty damned ok by me. At least now I can sorta think back on Japan with extreme fondness rather than remorse.

From Sarufutsu

Sarufutsu, gaijin population: 1

South Africa, on the other hand, has thrust me arse-first into the frenzied realm of Johannesburg, where reality firmly grabs you by the scruff of your neck and forces you damned-well face the (African) world in all its wonderful exultations and excretions. I put the ‘African’ as an aside for the simple reason that one can be confronted with brutal and frank honesty in other countries, it’s just that SA is what I’m used to. It’s what I expected, it’s what I wanted, and while I still miss snow like a crack addict misses that $5 bill, it’s all the challenge I had hoped to get back.

I find it very difficult to articulate this kind of mentality to friends, particularly foreign ones, as I have so often been painted as the soulless Bush-loving neo-con warmonger that would spit in a hobo’s eyes and pee on the flower garlands of baby-eating hippies. I can safely say only half of this is true. The rest… well… I’d have to say come here to SA first and see just what a trip it is and then we can see how much puppy-dog idealism is left, as well as how much true compassion and empathy one can contain. Anyone living in SA can safely attest to this phenomenon. SA leaves precious little space for non-grounded feelings. Everything we know has been thrust into the molesting eyes of reality, be it by the government, the press or the beggar at every traffic light you drive past. From the hobos living under every bridge to the clutchplate afrikaner cruising in his bantam, this place, to quote Syd Kitchen, is not for sissies.

I really wouldn’t have it any other way! Living in rural Hokkaido was important in that it showed me a world in which we don’t have to exist in such a brutally-frank society, and urban Johannesburg has shown me in no uncertain terms where I belong; the harsh, the beautiful, and the absolutely honest lowveld.

From 2008-09-08 – JHB

Jo’burg, in all it’s smelly glory