Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Sixpence none the richer: humbling food for thought

I suffer from curiosity, beautiful people. Which probably explains why i simply looove the power of the almighty Google. Each time i flex my fingers to search for one thing, i end up stumbling across all sorts of other interesting stuff which I just HAVE to take a peek at; see where that ka-road ends. Except that on the net, there is no end to a road; you find it going on aaaand on and branching out into curious lanes, a maze of avenues & right onto a different highway. (and yes, i do spend lots of time on the net searching for useless pieces of info)

Case in point: This morning, while listening to and totally loving Sixpence's It came upon a midnight clear, I searched for the album that holds the song and stumbled upon the origin of the band's name. Which comes from a book by C.S Lewis (the very name has my BP shooting up by a point or two) called Mere Christianity (OK, so it doesn't sound Chronicles of Narnia-ish, but I'll bite). In the book:

A little boy asks his father if he can get a sixpence -a small denomination of English currency- to go and get a gift for his father. The father gladly accepts the gift and he's really happy with it, but he also realizes that he's not any richer for the transaction. C. S Lewis was comparing that to his belief that God had given him, and us, the gifts that we possess, and to serve him the we way we should, we should do it humbly-realizing how we got the gifts in the first place.

Of late I've been seriously bugged by the 'good' being preached by some of our church leaders and so-called 'saved' people (triggered off by the draft constitution). That, coupled with my being lately afflicted with an acute case of the dark & twisties, has made it way too easy (i confess) for me to get pissed, forget to count my blessings and lose sight of the big spiritual picture...

The above piece of enlightenment sort of slams it all back into proper focus though...

Do have a reflective day peeps.

Mob wendos,


Friday, July 9, 2010

"An ode to THE football fan"

The final three minutes of "Hands in the sky" by Stray light run plays over and over in my head; fingers crossed (can't afford to part with another bottle of Viceroy, guys), my hands move to it's thumping beat as i urge my team on... And that's just me; your regular girl who juas the basic rules (though gets all muddled up on the offside rule) and enjoys the occasional game or two but hardly qualifies as a football fan.

Now THE football fan; that's a whole different species. And he/she brings passion, folklore and spirit in the name of the beautiful game; conjuring up a kind of magic that leaves you awestruck. Just watch any given match and you'll see them
all gussied up; armed with drums, cauldrons, calabashes and chanting beeeeautiful poetry that sometimes sounds like this (and do pardon their french):

Man U fans chant:
"If i had the wings of a sparrow,
If i had the arse of a crow,
I'd fly over Maine road tomorrow,
And shit on the bastards below, beelow,
shit on, shit on,
shit on the bastards below"

New castle fans towards Sunderland fans:
"Going down, going down, going down,

Sunderland fans happily reply:

'so are we, so are we, so are we.'

A man city chant:
"Feed the goat and he will score,
Feed the goat,
Feed the goat,
Feed the goat and he will score,"

Liverpool chant (or is it anthem?):
When you walk through a storm,
hold your head up high,
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm,
There's a golden sky,
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown...
walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone
You'll never walk alone.

Vidic chant:
Nemanja whoa,
Nemanja whoa,
He come's from Serbia,
He'll fucking murder ye!

All said in good jest of course.

And that's just at the English Premier league.

So here's a toast to THE football fan. And as the world's greatest carnival draws to a close come Sunday (sniff), over 84, 000 of these guys will clench fists, chest thump, hiss blood, foot thump and fervently chant in thundering decibels bringing the calabash spectacularly to life.

Stay tuned.

Mob wendos,


And while still on matters football, if you're a fan who enjoys devouring books, sample 'fever pitch' by Nick Hornby (hilaaarious guy by the way) who wittily recounts his love affair with football and especially Arsenal FC. Awesome read.