John Stupart.com

Most times I’m unleashed into a public environment I find that what I think and what I say are often completely different, and not intentionally so! If I want to be offensive, I damned well can do that consciously without needing to trip over myself. So I find myself in the tragically ridiculous positions of feeling remorse for the offensive things I say which aren’t deliberate, but unable to express the difference between those and the offensive things I say which I do mean. This, because it’s important that people know when I’m being genuinely offensive and when I’m just talking kak.

Regardless, my theme for the month has been all about figuring out how to express myself more accurately. This isn’t a new thing by any means of historical breakthrough, and philosophers have been ruminating on the problem for centuries. Put simply, language as we know it is incredibly restrictive. The more one’s vocabulary improves the more one realises its confinements. As much as I want to express an idea or emotional reaction to something in verbal or written form, it’ll always be restricted by the syntax of English and of my own language ability. It’s annoying, and there should damned well be a better way by now!

But enough about my vocal frustrations! Back in the normal world I’m still waiting on my MA application to come back (last time I checked it’d been upgraded to “RECEIVED” status), while I’m increasingly warming to the idea of full time study, my potential research interests have narrowed to two: Conflict Resolution in Central African Crises (probably use Congo as a case study) or Piracy in the Gulf of Aden. Both are incredibly interesting to me and are rich Strategic Studies picking grounds. While international institutions focus on Chinese Information Warfare, the ability (or lack thereof) of the Israelis to bomb Iran and other such topics, I can shneak into the pages of academic fame by the backdoor, as it were.

I think all of the above could also be greatly inspired by my current book: Heart of Darkness. It’s proving pretty damned good so far, but so far Hemingway still takes the top spot.

For my international friends, some pictures of Wits, my intended academic home for 2009:

The Wits Lawns

Senate House - My department would be on the 2nd floor to the right

Also, my favourite song of the month – Woman King by Iron and Wine:

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

A girl carrying her sibling on her back cries as she looks for her parents in the village of Kiwanja. Civilians have been on the march in eastern Congo, uprooted by fighting between the country’s army and rebels. November 6, 2008 (Associated Press / Jerome Delay)

I normally reserve my more earnest posting for commentary, but this picture today resonated on a whole other level, which affected both intellectually and emotionally. Put in one simple sentence: This kind of sorry shit must end. And it must end with the utmost priority.

There are precious few people in this world with whom I share my life’s goals and objectives, primarily because I’m not quite ready for them to bear public scrutiny. Put simply however, I aim to eventually be in a position where I can directly influence the prevention of this kind of misery.

It’s important, because I used to see these pictures and think “aw shucks”, but I’m now firmly in recognition of the simple fact that children like the one above will never have even close to the privilege which I enjoyed, and that their lives will almost certainly be stricken with misery and hardship. I used to think that this was the problem of the UN, or of people who are considered our leaders, but then I developed a healthy conservatism, which above all else taught me that it is precisely these people and organisations who are incapable of effecting any real and lasting change.

I aim to change their lives.

I have a strong desire to help these people whom I’ll never know but shall exist in abject poverty, conflict and violence if I don’t try and help them. I will endeavour to do this because I cannot in good conscience settle for a life of utility simply because I had the advantage of being raised in a loving, peacful society where I was afforded great education and amazing encouragement from friends and family at every turn. I cannot then simply trade that all in for simple wealth or happiness.

I will try until my dying breath to make that people like this girl and her sibling become the exception in Africa rather than the norm.

Also, I hope to develop cold fusion. But I like to stay realistic 😉