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Death and Consequences

Thursday, 11 June 2020

My cousins’ grandmother passed away last week.

Given the nature of our relation, one might expect Ma Audrey to not have been very close to our family. On the contrary; she lived in the same building as my cousins, who live just across the park opposite my house. So she was like a second grandmother to me growing up. She would look after my cousins while their parents were at work, so when I would go visit in my youth, we were all in her care.

When I continued to visit my cousins as we got older, she wouldn’t be as present because we no longer needed a babysitter. Still, we (my brother and I) would always make a point of greeting her as we passed the stable-door at the back of her house.

Sadly, the visits became less frequent, due to our lives just generally becoming less busy, but also due to family politics, which I shan’t go into.

Guilt and Memories

My cousin sent me a message on WhatsApp on Thursday, 4 June, to let me know Ma Audrey had passed. I can’t remember what I was busy with, but I was out of the house. I responded with my sympathies when I found the time.

I acknowledged the sadness, but I didn’t feel particularly sad. People might put it down to shock, but I’m not sure that’s what it is. I didn’t like this. Ma Audrey deserves to be mourned, I felt.

I hadn’t seen Ma Audrey very often in recent years. We would usually see each other at family events at least, but those were few and far between as of late. The last time I saw her was Christmas 2019, where she remarked that she doesn’t really see our family anymore. The last time I was in her house was to store some of the desserts in her fridge.

The problem, I think, is that I don’t have many memories of Ma Audrey, not that I can think of offhand, anyway. Not that she or my interactions with her weren’t memorable, but I actually don’t remember much of that period in my life without prompting. To think I would spend so much time there. I feel awful about it.

That’s why I ultimately decided to attend the funeral. I was hesitant at first, given that it would be a gathering of people, but I decided that I would regret it if I didn’t. (Also, thankfully, the physical distancing went pretty well.) I wanted to hear others’ reflections, hoping it would prompt some residual memories. Thankfully, it did.

The Funeral

This was the first funeral I’d attended since my great-aunt Gwen passed away in 2005. I was 10. That was my first funeral where I was cognizant of the events (my paternal grandfather passed away when I was 3). Aunty Gwen’s funeral made me hyper-aware of mortality and I was so afraid of losing my biological grandmother for at least a year after that. Thankfully, my grandmother is alive and well having lived 15 more years, despite a heart problem for which he had successful surgery in 2012.

At the time of writing, South Africa is in Level 3 Lockdown, due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Places of worship have been given governmental permission to reopen, a decision I’ve been very critical of.  But thankfully it meant we could host a funeral. Unlike a standard church service, it would be a more controlled environment as people had to stipulate beforehand whether they would be attending.

When I was told of Ma Audrey’s passing, I wasn’t sure that there would be a funeral. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there hadn’t been one, given the circumstances. If there hadn’t been a funeral, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it; given my worldview (read: atheism), I don’t think it’s necessary. Funerals are for the living, not for the dead.

But Ma Audrey was a Catholic woman. We used to go to the same church, back when I did go to church (more on that later). So it is fitting that she would be ‘sent off’ in that way.

At the door of the church, we had our temperatures taken, our hands sanitised, and we were asked via individual questions whether we had any COVID-19 symptoms. The casket was in the foyer; closed. I’d had a slight hope that it would be open so I could see her face in person one last time. (My eyes started welling up during that last sentence.)

The funeral was essentially a standard Catholic Mass, but with the priest testifying about Ma Audrey instead of the usual sermon, and a Wikipedia-esque eulogy read by my older cousin. I admittedly haven’t been to many funerals, but it felt a bit…impersonal. Almost cursory.

The Church

I’m going to go off on a slight tangent here. The funeral was the first time I stepped foot in my old church since Christmas 2008, almost 12 years ago. It was slightly smaller than I remember. Some things had changed; some things had stayed the same.

The PA speakers were the same set that I remember, but the mezzanine where the “Music Ministry” were usually stationed had been extended. No longer did they have an overhead projector; they now had a projector overhead.

The Stations of the Cross portraits detailing the Passion of Jesus were still in the same place. The Seven Sacraments were depicted high on the church walls behind the altar. My eyes traced the path form Jesus’ fingers turning into wheat stalks and then rejoining his body as my mind wandered away from the Bible readings much as it had done in my youth.

It was interesting that being in this building did not evoke any nostalgia. For people who only know me since I became a heathen, that might make sense, but I was actually very involved in the church; I was a reader and a singer in the aforementioned Music Ministry. My departure from the church actually had nothing to do with unbelief; that only came years later.

The Death                                  

Ma Audrey had suffered from cancer. She had been diagnosed with bowel/rectal cancer years ago, but then eventually went into remission. She was later diagnosed with lymphoma as well.

My mother called my uncle, Ma Audrey’s son, on the day of her passing to give her condolences.  According to him, Ma Audrey looked and seemed fine, but she requested to go to the hospice.  He said she refused to continue to take her medication and that she had told him she wanted to die.

When I first heard this, I was glad. I was glad she died on her own terms. It felt like a boss move, like in S02E12 of Grace and Frankie. “Good for Audrey,” I’d said. My younger cousin, who was with her when she died, explained to me after the funeral that it had been more a case that she was tired of suffering and tired of having to rely on others just to live. Being given better context on the circumstances of her decision made it more heart breaking, but no less dignified.

She passed with her remaining child and youngest granddaughter by her side.

Suspension of Disbelief

After the gospel reading, the priest testified about how the church was Ma Audrey’s second home. She had been a part of the soup kitchen, and the Music Ministry at some point as well. She had been part of the committee that would volunteer to clean the church on Fridays for the weekend Masses. Even when she was unable to participate, she would still go to the church on Fridays for the company.

When my family would still attend church, we would offer Ma Audrey lifts. After we’d stopped going to church, we’d still see her making her way across the field on her way to Mass. Like when passing her stable door, we’d be sure to greet her, shouting and waving from our front porch. She was persistent in trying to get us to go back to church, even after my own (Anglican) grandmother had long given up.

Being away from church for so long, I no longer knew the hymns, nor the recitations or responses. From an outsider perspective, the ceremony seems very cult-y; people dressed in robes; mass recitations; ceremonial eating (even if you don’t consider the supposed transubstantiation, which is another story); and the additional pomp and circumstance of altar servicers carrying large candles and a wooded cross on a large stick.

I wasn’t sure whether or not to participate in the recitations. I decided not to, for the most part. Only at the end of the priest’s testimony where he blessed Ma Audrey (in spirit) and her casket, did I join in saying “Amen”.

But still – sitting, standing, kneeling in that church – the jaded, cynical atheist in me was at the forefront at the beginning of the procession, internally scoffing at the same rituals in which I once partook.

But during the priest’s testimony, I thought less of the church and more of what the church meant to Ma Audrey; I felt I should reserve my cynicism out of respect for her, not the church.

During one of the hymns, I decided to interpret the lyrics to be about her instead of God.

But you are always close to me Following all my ways May I be always close to you Following all your ways, Lord

Strange thing to do for someone who doesn’t believe in an afterlife, huh? The thing is, I know one of the purposes of religion is consolation. So no, when it comes down to it, I don’t believe Ma Audrey – or anyone – is up there or out there, but sometimes it’s nice to think that she is.

There was a moment, whilst the priest was blessing the casket, that I actually wished God existed – not the god of the Bible, but a god worthy of Audrey and her worship.

The Dénoument

After the funeral, my brother and I went over to speak to our cousins. It was here my younger cousin explained to me the afore-mentioned circumstances around her grandmother’s decision to die. This conversation only took a couple of minutes until it was interrupted by a flash of lightning then, a few seconds later, a mighty crack of thunder.

We all parted ways and, almost as soon as my brother and I got into his car, so began the hardest hail storm any one of us could remember. Almost like a fanfare from God Himself, if you believe in such things.

[dextersjournal]

I’m Back (?)

According to my records, I haven’t posted prose on this blog since October 2016. 

Part of the reason is probably the big changes in my life that happened shortly after: I graduated college and shortly after that left my job at the time to take a job in my field. 

The other part of the reason - this part I’m sure of - is that in early 2017 I rejoined the Twitter ranks, putting my thoughts into tweets and tweet threads instead of on here. Those records of my thoughts are more stream of consciousness as opposed to the more thought-out, structured form of my Tumblr posts.

Recently I have been considering returning, but ultimately my decision was catalysed by a death in the family. I felt that Twitter was not an appropriate place to process my thoughts. That post will follow this one. 

But why not just post it? Why first make this announcement to absolutely no one? The answer: for posterity. 

I started this blog about seven years ago. I am not the same person I was back then. I’m not even the same person I was in the interim. 

This post serves to acknowledge that I have said and opined things in the past that I no longer agree with, believe and/or subscribe to. For example, somewhere in the archives I, in passing, denied my homosexuality. I am now an out-an-proud gay man.

Additionally, there is a full post wherein I posit - through the lens of the Woody Allen allegations - that art should be separated from the artist. I no longer believe that.

It is my genuine intention to address these discrepancies of thought individually at some stage, either by a post-script explanation or a new post linked at the bottom of the original.

At time of writing this post, my decision is not to delete such posts. I am human, ergo I am flawed. Removing evidence of previous flaws is removing evidence of growth. 

[dextersjournal]

I have nothing more to add.

#relatable

[dextersjournal]

2017 is the year we find love

[dextersjournal]

Straight Friend: “I’m open minded”

Me:

[dextersjournal]

Creationists, basically.

[dextersjournal]

[dextersjournal]

Get to know me

I posted these questions a while ago but no one was interested. I’m really bored at work so I decided to answer all of them anyway. Answers are correct as of 3 July 2017.

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?  Probably  my ex.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?  Both.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?  I’m  seeing my friend Jordan later. Went out with him yesterday, but I always look  forward to seeing my friends.

4. Are you easy to get along with? Yes, I  think so. I will admit that it could be argued that I have a polarising personality.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like  take care of you? Don’t like anyone at the moment.  

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?  (I  abhor this question.) Um, generally good looking. Long hair is a turn on.  Sharp features e.g. nose and jaw line. Smooth skin. Sense of humour.  Intelligent, verbose, reasonable, critical thinker. Reason I abhor this question  is because I don’t like the idea of someone reading this and thinking I  wouldn’t be into them because they don’t meet these criteria; it’s very  plausible that I would be attracted to someone outside these descriptions –  except sense of humour. That’s a must.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two  months from now?  No.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?  Can’t  even think of anyone.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?  Yes,  but less and less so. When you play Never Have I Ever with friends like mine,  you’re forced out of that comfort zone, lol.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation  with? Gosh, I  have deep conversations all the time. Probably with my friends Jordan and  Fabian last night.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent  say?

“Hey  dude. I’m home safely. Hope you are/will be too. I’m beyond glad you agreed  to join us today. I do miss our chats so that’s a big reason why I’d like to  hang out more.

Anyway,  I shall see you tomorrow. And I hope to see you soon after that. Sleep well  and keep well[,] my friend.”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?  Hmmm, I  actually don’t have a favourite right  now – I listen to whatever – but my recent favourites have been:

Sign of  the Times – Harry Styles From  the Dining Table – Harry Styles Tears  in the Rain  - Nathan Sykes Twist –  Nathan Sykes There’s  Only One of You – Nathan Sykes

13. Do you like it when people play with your  hair?  Yes,  actually. But people rarely do.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Luck,  yes. Miracles,  no.

15. What good thing happened this summer? I  formed a friendship in the last third of last year in which I was very  quickly emotionally invested, as I do. But I wasn’t sure how this person felt  about me; they were very hot and cold towards me. We could have a good time  one day and he’d all but ignore me the next. The good thing that happened  this summer is that he and I became closer, started confiding in each other and  I’m no longer uncertain about our friendship.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed  again? Yes. I’m  actually craving it.

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? I think  with the vast expanse of the universe, it’s likely that there should be other  living organisms out there, if only simple-celled ones.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? No. Don’t  talk to many people from primary school.

19. Do you like bubble baths? I do.  But water restrictions.

20. Do you like your neighbors? My  mother is really close to the neighbours on our left. We don’t really socialise with our other neighbours.

21. What are your bad habits? Over-thinking  and over-analysing. Nail biting. I’m sure I have more so if anyone notices  any, let me know.

22. Where would you like to travel? England  and Europe (they’re separate now). More  specifically: London, Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice, Istanbul (maybe). Also  New York and LA.

23. Do you have trust issues? Likely.

24. Favourite part of your daily routine? Don’t  really have one. My life is banal right now.

25. What part of your body are you most  uncomfortable with? My  paunch.

26. What do you do when you wake up? Turn  off my alarm.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Neither.

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My  friends.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Nope.  They actually said their life got easier.

30. Do you ever want to get married? I think  so. But I’m not sure. Very aware that marriage and weddings are a mere by-product  of archaic tradition but also like the idea of officialising a commitment  promise.

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail? Yes.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? I don’t  even want to think about this one right now. Don’t want to pop a boner at  work.

33. Spell your name with your chin. DSewsxrt5err

34. Do you play sports? What sports? I used  to play chess.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told  them?  All the  damn time. I’ve only told 2 of my numerous crushes that I liked them. One of  those was almost a year later.

37. What do you say during awkward silences? “Lovely  weather we’re having.”

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? A  friend I can have sex with.

39. What are your favourite stores to shop in? Edgars  and Mr Price. They give me credit.

40. What do you want to do after high school? I left  high school 5 years ago.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second  chance? No. I  don’t subscribe to rules with absolutes.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean? I’m  tired and/or uncomfortable and/or thinking and/or over-thinking and/or upset  and/or depressed.

43. Do you smile at strangers? Not  generally, no.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Outer  space.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? The obligation to go to work and continue to earn money.

46. What are you paranoid about? That my  friends don’t really like me and they just tolerate me.

47. Have you ever been high? No. I  think I may have been on a passive high once, but I’m not sure.

48. Have you ever been drunk? Yes.  Good times.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Umm,  no, I don’t think so.

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you  wore? Black.

51. Ever wished you were someone else? I  probably have, but not actively. For all my faults and insecurities, I like  who I am and acknowledge that being someone else comes with a whole new set  of problems. I like that I know what my problems are.

52. One thing you wish you could change about  yourself? My  weight.

53. Favourite makeup brand? MAC

54. Favourite store? Wouldn’t  say I have one.

55. Favourite blog? http://soletstalkabout.com/

56. Favourite colour? Azure  blue.

57. Favourite food? Pizza  or sushi. I will not decide between them.

58. Last thing you ate? Doughnut.

59. First thing you ate this morning? Cereal  (ProNutro)

60. Ever won a competition? For what? I won a  dance competition on a TV show and received free tickets to go up Table  Mountain.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Nope.

62. Been arrested? For what? Nope.

63. Ever been in love? Yes.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? We’d  spent New Year’s Eve together, just the two of us, and as we were watching  the sunrise on New Year’s Day, he pulled a handwritten letter from his pocket  and read it out. He revealed he had feelings for me and asked if he could  kiss me. I nodded.

65. Are you hungry right now? Not  actually, hey.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? No, but  I do wish my real friends had Tumblr. And Twitter. Mostly Twitter.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter.

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Twitter.

69. Are you watching TV right now? Nope. I’m  at work.

70. Names of your best friends? Bronté Fabian Jerry Jordan Laurie Nadine

71. Craving something? What? Hugs.  Always.

72. What colour are your towels? I think  the ones I’m using now are green.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two.  One standard and one continental.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Do my  victims’ bodies count? Jokes.  No, I don’t. (I leave  the bodies in the basement.)

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? Easily  upwards of 10.

75. Favourite animal? Dog.  Unimaginative answer, I know.

76. What colour is your underwear? Grey.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Bubblegum,  but it’s hard to find. I’m usually pretty satisfied with vanilla. But if we’re  including frozen yoghurt into the options, then English Toffee.

 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Black

80. What colour pants? Blue  (denim)

81. Favourite TV show? Will  & Grace.

82. Favourite movie? The  Prestige.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Ew.  Mean Girls.

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean  Girls.

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Why is  this a question?

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Dory.

87. First person you talked to today? My  brother.

88. Last person you talked to today? My  boss.

89. Name a person you hate? I don’t  hate anyone. But the last person I hated was called Josh, I think.

90. Name a person you love? Fabian.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? No.  Hurt with my words.

92. In a fight with someone? No.  Hurt with my words.

93. How many sweatpants do you have? 5

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? 5/6

95. Last movie you watched? Wonder  Woman

96. Favourite actress? Dunno.

97. Favourite actor? Dunno.

98. Do you tan a lot? No. Not  intentionally.

99. Have any pets? No.

100. How are you feeling? Tired.  Bored.

101. Do you type fast? Yes.

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Yes.  The person I used to be. Makes me cringe.

103. Can you spell well? Yes.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? No.

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Not  that I know of.

107. Have you ever been on a horse? No.

108. What should you be doing? Nothing.  I don’t have any work to do.

109. Is something irritating you right now? Not  particularly.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yes. [Cue  depression and Sam Smith soundtrack]

111. Do you have trust issues? Refer to  Question 23.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Gosh, I’m  not sure hey. I cried in front of my ex while we were still together, but that was in 2015. I’ve definitely cried since but I don’t remember doing it in front of everyone.

113. What was your childhood nickname? Dennis.  I was a klutz so my dad would refer to me as Dennis the Menace. I hated it.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Within  the country, only technically; just crossed the border for a few hours.

115. Do you play the Wii? No.

116. Are you listening to music right now? No, but  that’s a good idea, actually.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? I eat it  but never crave it.

118. Do you like Chinese food? No.  Except spring rolls.

119. Favourite book? Harry Potter and Artemis  Fowl series.

120. Are you afraid of the dark? No.

121. Are you mean? Not  genuinely. But I say mean things to be funny.

122. Is cheating ever okay? Probably.  Once again, I do not subscribe to rules with absolutes.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? No. I  don’t care about them enough.

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No. I  believe in confirmation bias.

125. Do you believe in true love? Yes, I’d  like to.

126. Are you currently bored? Yeeeeeeeeees!

127. What makes you happy? My  friends.

128. Would you change your name? No.

129. What your zodiac sign? Scorpio.

130. Do you like subway? The  sandwich place? Yes, I do.

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? Depends  on whether I feel the same way. It’s unlikely. So probably say I don’t reciprocate their feelings. Ask them if they need anything, like space. Ask  them if I did anything to lead them on. Have a discussion with them. Let them  know I’m still their friend if they want me to be.

132. Your best friend of the same sex likes you, what do you do? Depends  on whether I feel the same way. If I don’t, see above. If I do, or I don’t but I could, then I guess we’ll see  how it goes. This is something I’ve thought about a lot and I don’t think it’s  likely. My best friends are mostly straight and most of them have  girlfriends. Even if they’re queer, I doubt they’d be interested in me.  Besides all that, I think I’m too close to all of them to view them in a  romantic and sexual light. I wouldn’t want to ruin a friendship.

133. Favourite lyrics right now? In Our Darkest Hour In My Deepest Despair Will You Still Care? Will You Be There? In My Trials And My Tribulations Through Our Doubts And Frustrations In My Violence In My Turbulence Through My Fear And My Confessions In My Anguish And My Pain Through My Joy And My Sorrow In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow I'll Never Let You Part For You're Always In My Heart.

134. Can you count to one million? Theoretically,  yes. Not about to do it in practice; it would take literally 3 days.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I  signed up to be in my primary school’s fashion show and they had a strict rule (for some weird reason) that if you signed up, you had to do it. I changed my mind and, when confronted, told my  teacher my mother had responded on the reply slip without my consent.

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed.

137. How tall are you? 1.78m  or 5ft 11in

138. Curly or Straight hair? I have curly  hair.

139. Brunette or Blonde? I’m a  brunette.

140. Summer or Winter? Summer.

141. Night or Day? Night.

142. Favourite month? December.

143. Are you a vegetarian? Hell,  no.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Milk  chocolate.

145. Tea or Coffee? Tea. I  don’t drink coffee.

146. Was today a good day? Today’s  barely started, but it’s unlikely to be. Yesterday was great, though.

147. Mars or Snickers? Mars.

148. What’s your favourite quote? “I’m a  knowledgeable man and it’s part of my knowledge. Y’know, if I knew how I knew  everything I knew, I’d only be able to know half as much because it would all  be clogged up from where I know it from.” – David Mitchell

149. Do you believe in ghosts? I’m  inclined to say no, but I’ve recently heard some stories that have challenged  my world view.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first  line on that page? No  text. Just a picture. (It’s an autobiography, not a kid’s book, okay! Get off my back, mom! Geez.)

[dextersjournal]

Perfect Timing

I don’t know if I believe in fate. I – and most people – know I don’t believe in God, i.e. a sentient conscious creator with will, action and desire. But what about some other yet-to-be-explained, most likely arbitrary force? It’s easy to dismiss it as random coincidence but I leave the proverbial door open to the possibility because sometimes I want things to have happened for that elusive reason.

 Chapter 1

Last year October, I fulfilled a two-week internship as part of my final year of studies. For the first week, I was to work at the Theatre on the Bay* and I was to be stationed at various other productions for the second week. 

All through the first week at Theatre on the Bay, I had a strange feeling I would see someone I hadn’t seen in almost three years. Let’s call him Kevin. Kevin isn’t someone I liked very much, but for reasons I shan’t go into here, I had several times tried to imagine how I would react the next time I were to see him. So yes, I had an inkling of a feeling I would see Kevin while I was there that first week. I didn’t.

I was to await the details of my next job for the Tuesday of week 2 (Mondays are typically ‘dark days’ in theatre, meaning there usually aren’t performances then). I was informed on the last minute that the team I was to join that week wouldn’t be working that day, so I requested to be stationed back at Theatre on the Bay just for that day; I didn’t want to waste a day, I wanted to soak up as much information and experience as possible.

During the interval of the show at Theatre on the Bay, on the Tuesday – the day I was not scheduled to be there – I saw Kevin. I fucking saw Kevin. I wasn’t supposed to be there! I wish I could adequately convey to you, reader, the quale of the disbelief I felt. (In case you were wondering, Kevin and I had a simple, brief and amicable interaction.)

 Chapter 2

The next day, I was scheduled to work at GrandWest* at the Roxy Revue Bar*. The show was A Night Out with Lana Crowster, the eponymous star of which just happened to be my former vocal coach from when I briefly studied musical performance. That serendipitous coincidence pales in comparison to the others, though.

Despite being ‘scheduled’ to work that day, I was informed late – communication wasn’t the best; lots of middle men. So by the time I got to the venue, it had already been set up and I’d lost out on my only scheduled opportunity to do some hands-on work and not just observe. Disappointed but eager to assist, I requested to be stationed at the Fugard Theatre* in town where the same company would be setting up for District Six Kanala. I would arrive at the Fugard in the morning, end after 3pm, then race immediately for the 4pm call time at the Roxy. I’m disclosing all this because it is once again important that I was not supposed to be there.

Rewind to the end of 2014, I was working at a call centre, terribly depressed, but the daily activity was keeping my mind off it. In my training group was a guy who we shall call Jack. Jack was actually meant to be in a different training group who started earlier than mine, but had to defer his training because he had to rewrite a university exam. My training group was meant to be trained to work in the retail department but we were redirected mid-training to the digital department. So, just to be clear, because he had to rewrite an exam, Jack ended up not only in my training group, but also in the same department as me. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

He and I became fast friends; he became my best friend in a way for a very short time: about a month. Once our training – which we obviously spent together – was over, we ended up working similar shifts which, because the call centre ran 24 hours a day, was not as likely as you may think. We would spend our lunches together, take our tea breaks together (if we could manage it), and buy each other food and drinks (this was a bigger deal for me at the time. I’d explain, but this post is long-winded enough as it is). Jack ended up being the second of only two men I’ve been infatuated with. He didn’t feel the same way. That’s neither here nor there. Those feelings have been quelled but I still have an immense appreciation for him and the time we spent together. I miss him. I’ve told him quite regularly too.

At the time, I usually travelled by scooter, but there were a few days where I had to take the train. Jack took the bus. So I contacted him and we organised to meet up at the bus terminal in town and walk to work together.

On my last day of working at the Fugard, I was running late. I was supposed to have left already to go to GrandWest. I packed my things into the compartment inside seat of my scooter and was in the process of putting on my helmet when I found myself staring into the distance in the direction of the aforementioned call centre, fondly reminiscing about when Jack and I had walked together, wondering when – or if – I’d see him again. 

My gaze shifted focus and drifted to the corner of the building in the forefront of my view as Jack walked around it. Yes, read it again. I couldn’t believe it either. I was so convinced that my mind had misrepresented what I was seeing because I’d been thinking of him that I didn’t acknowledge him because I thought he was a stranger. I was in shock. I hadn’t seen him in almost two years! Not only was I not supposed to be there, I wasn’t supposed to be there that late.  And this had happened mere days after the instance with Kevin. What are the odds?

 Chapter 3

I’ve become a slow reader. I used to read all the time in my youth. I was the kind of reader that, once I became engrossed in a book, I would put off homework, chores and even food in my ambitious attempt to finish the book as quickly as possible. Sadly, this is no longer the case and I end up acquiring books much faster than I can read them.

As such, once I finished a book, I select the next one based on arbitrary instinct depending on my mood, the subject of the book and its length. It’s the same process I use when deciding which movie to watch, really. And sometimes I feel that a particular movie or book has come at just the right time.

Three years ago, I was soaring – relatively speaking – through books and I ended up reading The Liar by Stephen Fry. I had no idea what this book was about when I bought it. I just saw it was by Stephen Fry and it cost R15 at a second-hand bookstore. I didn’t need more reason than that. It ended up being a book involving exclusively homosexual relationships and desires at an all-boys boarding school. This was not a topic I’d seen approached in fictional literature before and – what with me having come out only a few months before – it was one I could appreciate.

The book’s protagonist, Adrian, is absolutely infatuated with another student and spends much of his inner monologue pining for him. In the middle of the book, a pudgy boy derisively nicknamed Pigs bites the bullet and divulges to Adrian that he’s in love with him. Adrian tries to spare Pig’s feelings but the message is clear: Pigs feelings were not requited. Pigs hangs himself soon after.

As a suicidal, pudgy boy unrequitedly in love with his friend, I could relate.

I could have read this book at any point in my life, but had I read it at any other point, it would not have been as relevant or as poignant. While I would rate the book itself as mediocre and not necessarily worthy of recommendation to a friend, but because of the timing, it holds a special place in my heart.

Chapter 4

I noticed upon searching for this tweet, that I happened to post it at 11:11, a time my ex has a superstitious obsession with. Another coincidence. 

I was dumped on 6 July 2015. I spent the next 3 weeks hiding in my room, watch an endless series of movies, most of which I cannot remember.

When I encounter a film I’m interested in, I download it and keep it in a folder on my desktop and watch it when when I feel inclined. I delete it afterwards. When I have the urge to watch a movie, I select it in the same arbitrary fashion as I do books, as described in Chapter 3 above. 

Nine days after the breakup, I happened to decide to watch a film called One Day, starring Anne Hathaway, incidentally suggested to me by my now-ex. The story follows the lives of two friends who try to deny their feelings for each other but (mild spoiler:) eventually end up together. 

This was deeply relevant because the narrative broadly applied to my recently-ended relationship, i.e. friends who fell in love, and the male character’s name was Dexter. Spooky.

BUT, that’s not the weirdest part. The film is called One Day because the viewer only witnesses the characters’ lives one day a year: 15 July. The same fucking day I was watching the movie. Get the fuck outta my face. 

Far less interesting coincidence: 15 July, as mentioned in One Day, is St Swithun’s day. After One Day, I opted to watch The Dark Knight Rises. It just so happens that Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s character grew up at St Swithun’s Orphanage. Because July 15th is never mentioned in the film, I would not have noticed the coincidence otherwise.

Chapter 5

This brings me to what sparked my thoughts on the validity of fate and incited me to write this post. For the past few months I’ve been struggling through a book that I’d just finished reading yesterday. Once again, it was time for me to arbitrarily choose my next book. I could have – and arguably should have – opted for Michael Jackson’s Moonwalk or the play Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. But no, I chose a different option.

I can’t resist a good deal. It doesn’t do well for my bank account. It doesn’t help that the warehouse of my newly preferred online store is very close to my house, so I don’t have to pay for shipping, which is usually enough of a deterrent to inhibit my spending. 

There was a particular book on sale. It usually sold for around R260, but it was going for R71. A more thrifty person might have advised me that I wasn’t saving R189, I was actually spending R71, but I would not have listened. It was the most irrational purchase I’ve made in recent history. I bought Shockaholic by Carrie Fisher.

I’ve enjoyed Carrie Fisher’s appearances on British television shows such as QI, Graham Norton, and – her last ever TV appearance – 8 Out of 10 Cats, but I had no interest in reading her literature. Regardless, I’m so glad I purchased this book. The timing is great. It’s great to experience someone speak to frankly about their mental health, or lack thereof, and their fears and insecurities with such humorous candour, sardonic wit and endearing self-deprecation – especially as I’m recovering from a depressive episode I had two weeks ago.

Full disclosure, I’m only 20 pages in (it’s only 150 pages long) but I already feel a connection as the author’s put into words what I could not. Fittingly, the part I most related to (thus far) explains in words the difficulty of putting her feelings into...well...words. 

“...I couldn’t put things into words, and that was the one thing I’d always been able to rely on. Putting my feelings into words and praying they wouldn’t be able to get out again. It had always been my salvation. If I could get it into words, I could space the slow quicksand of almost any bad feeling, but now I’d lost my ability to do even that. I was in pain squared, pain cubed, pain to the nth power. And this wasn’t the more noble sort of pain – this was that embarrassing pain of self-pity...”

I’ve been struggling with crippling loneliness the past few weeks and the same people with whom I’d most like to discuss my troubles are the same people who are too busy with their own life to make time for the problems in mine, thus exacerbating the loneliness. I vacillate between wanting to share all and deciding it’s best not to divulge. Part of my tentativeness has been because, if I did get the opportunity to share my trepidations, I wouldn’t know what to say or how to put it. So the shared experience of inarticulateness and embarrassment evidenced in the above excerpt has brought me great comfort.

A book I should never have bought gave me hope for the first time in two weeks. So while I’m still undecided about the existence of fate, can you see why I kinda hope that it’s real?

*FYI: All these venues are located in Cape Town, South Africa.

[dextersjournal]

me: [learns the meaning of a previously unknown word]

the word: [coincidentally starts showing up everywhere in the following days]

me:

[dextersjournal]

me: i want to have sex 

someone: just go out and have a one night stand with someone it’s not that hard 

me and my emotional monogamy craving ass:

[dextersjournal]

[dextersjournal]

Two things from my side.

1) I acknowledge that I’m not the most important person in anyone’s life; I would never expect to be prioritised above their SO. But the question is: how far below their SO am I prioritised? To what extent should I let myself be fucked over before I’m allowed to have a problem with it? A couple of weeks ago I had plans with someone I consider a close friend and he straight up forgot and made plans with his girlfriend instead. I didn’t expect him to, but it would have been nice for him to uphold his bond. Would he (or anyone) have done the same thing if the roles were reversed? If he’d forgotten plans with his girlfriend (somehow) and made plans with me, would he have stuck to those plans or said, “Listen, dude, sorry, but I just remembered I already made plans with [girlfriend], so I won’t be able to do tonight”? Doubtful. I’m not shitting on him; just using it as an example.

2) “You’ll find someone too someday” is not an appropriate response. The concern is not envy of someone’s relationship, it’s about principle and priority. I want to spend time with this person because they’re my friend, not because I happen to not have a romantic interest at the time. The assumption is that if I had someone, I too would be as neglectful. I hope I wouldn’t. If I am, someone please direct me to this fucking post.

I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels this way.

i really wish platonic relationships were more important. i’m tired of losing friendships because i’m less important than their significant other. i hate that i’m automatically not as close to my friends because i’m not the person they’re dating/sleeping with. and i hate how whenever i complain about it the response is “you’ll find someone too someday!” like no I shouldn’t have to “find someone” to feel loved and important, maybe we should stop promoting investing all your time and effort and physical and emotional intimacy into one romantic/sexual partner idk

[dextersjournal]

Preach.

undefined

[dextersjournal]

I always share this clip. Glad to have it as an image.

[dextersjournal]

Think Before You (Re-)Post

I’m supposed to be doing a college assignment right now, but was procrastinating – as one tends to do. My chosen method of procrastination was the ever-popular Facebook. While mindlessly scrolling through my feed I came across the chain status pictured below.

I saw three people post this within 10 minutes. There are so many things wrong with this. Firstly, I live in South Africa, so whatever law is being cited certainly doesn’t apply to us. Secondly, if any such thing existed where you could opt out of the purported privacy infringement, it would be in the settings menu, like every other option.

Thirdly – and perhaps most importantly – you’re already on Facebook; you agreed to the terms and conditions (which you probably didn’t read) when you signed up. Posting a status doesn’t change that. What do you think Facebook’s gonna do? You think Mark Zuckerberg’s gonna say, “Oh, we should really use this picture, let me first do a massive search through every frivolous status this person’s ever posted just to check that they haven’t at least once copied and pasted a flimsy affidavit that they couldn’t be bothered to type out themselves, let alone research. ‘Cause if they’ve done that, then I can’t use the photo.” “Why don’t you just ask their permission up front?” One of his many aides would ask him. “Say, in the T’s and C’s?” “No, no, no. That’s no use.” He would respond. “It would be much more efficient to search the entire textual history of every single one of the billion plus members we have on the site. I really, really want to be thorough.”

I hate anything that tells you to like or share or repost. Instructing me to do any of these things sharply decreases the chance of me doing them.

I don’t type ‘Amen’ on posts.

I don’t send to x amount of people for good luck or to avoid death. (Still not dead, by the way.)

I don’t share to show I love either of my parents (they’re not the best parents in the world; that’s statistically improbable).

I don’t like in an attempt to feed a child.

I don’t copy and paste to show my sympathy with cancer patients.

These are all trivial, self-serving, meaningless actions.

When I was 10 or 11 years old, there was a chain letter going around which purported to be the longest-running chain letter and was an attempt to break the Guinness World Record in that category. This was an actual letter that was mailed to me by a classmate I saw everyday. I’d honestly meant to send it to the required 6 people but never got around to it. Eventually, I just gave up but felt incredibly guilty for being the reason that this record wasn’t to be. But then I realised: hey, I was only one of six people that were sent this letter; the other five would presumably send theirs on without having any clue what I’ve done – or rather, didn’t do. I felt guilty no more. I took it one step further and reasoned that this chain could easily have been broken before. This was confirmed when I received the same letter from someone else a year later.

So, because not all heroes wear capes, I tend to inform posters of their error in the form of a link or a succinct comment. This is something I do in an attempt to alleviate the spread of apocryphal information.

No, that poem was not written by Maya Angelou. You could easily have googled it to find the true author and give credit.

No, Shakespeare didn’t write that. That’s clearly in modern English. Have you opened a book?  

No, entering your PIN backwards at an ATM is not a distress signal. What if your pin was a numeral palindrome?

No, your horoscope isn’t eerily accurate; it applies to most people. It’s called the Forer Effect or the Barnum Effect and you’re unlikely to notice because you’re unlikely to read more than two star signs: yours and someone else’s.

No, margarine is not only one molecule away from plastic, but so what if it was? There’s only one atom of difference between water and hydrogen peroxide. (I love that there’s a dedicated website: margarinemyths.com.)

And yes, as you can imagine, some people get annoyed by it. They want to post without consequence, without contention, without correction. I’ve had someone say to me, “No one said you have to read [my post].” Of course, I could have applied their same logic and replied, “Well, no one said you have to read my comment.” But that would have been expecting too much; they’ve demonstrably been unable to apply logic in the first place. But it’s more likely a defence mechanism whereby they have nothing to say yet still want to have the last word.

When Blackberries were in the zeitgeist around 2012 and we were plagued by the purple coloured textual bother known as broadcast messages on BBM (BlackBerry Messenger), Blue Ivy Carter – Beyoncé’s daughter – was born. There was a silly broadcast message making the rounds that not only did IVY stand for ‘Illuminati’s Very Youngest’, but also that “blue ivy” backwards was “yvi elub”, which is the Latin name for Lucifer’s daughter. (Y’all haters corny with that Illuminati mess.) I received this message and – despite its obviously jocular nature of this utter bullshit – I pointed out that “blue” backwards was “eulb” and not “elub”. Instead of reasoning that it must have just been a typo, my conversational partner replied with something along the lines of: ‘don’t look at me; I didn’t write it.’ But you reposted it! By reposting something, you implicitly agree with its content. I could have gotten a headache from how hard I rolled my eyes.

Another popular hoax is one that warns readers not to flash their lights at cars that don’t have their lights on because it’s a gang initiation game whereby the passengers of said cars would chase and kill the flasher. I first suspected something when I noticed the letter from the security company conveniently had no date. My suspicions were confirmed after I found this link, which I’ve taken to sharing in the comment section every time I see someone post the false warning. After one such instance, the poster said, “Better safe than sorry.”

No. Stop patting yourself on the back. Wouldn’t you be grateful if someone reminded you to switch on your lights? You could help prevent an accident, but because you’ve read something which I’ve just proved is false, you’re not going to help your metaphorical neighbour. (Just this week, I literally went out of my way and chased someone who didn’t have their lights on.)

This brings me full circle to the afore-mentioned Facebook status. I engaged in a comment rapport with one of the posters (or rather, pasters *slaps knee*) in which I tried to explain the futility of her action, albeit less sarcastically than I did in the earlier paragraph above. She still didn’t get it. She maintained that she: was spreading awareness about privacy settings despite me explaining that

Privacy settings would be found in the settings menu.

Privacy settings apply to fellow users and are unlikely to apply to Facebook.

She’s not spreading awareness; she’s spreading false information.

She told me it’s better to be safe than sorry.

She later commented that it “took 2 seconds to copy and paste and way too long talking about its validity”. Therein lies the problem: it’s quicker, easier and more convenient to share something than to actually think about what you’re doing. 11 year old me might not have seen through the chain letter conundrum had I only needed to tap a screen a few times instead of copying the letters, placing them in envelopes and physically posting them.

I may annoy people by seemingly needlessly correcting potentially inconsequential posts, but people annoy me when that have the capacity to think things through, but don’t. Thus, I have composed this post of my own to allay my resultant ire. That’s almost 1400 words I could have typed in my college assignment instead, when the only four words you actually need are in the title.

Think about it. Take a second. Preferably more.

EDIT: I’ve been made aware of a statement which was released by Facebook after an earlier incarnation of the above hoax. The full uncorked webpage can be found here.

[dextersjournal]

Challenging My Unbelief

Alternate title: God’s Not Dead; He’s Surely A Lie

You want [Lucifer] off the air to prevent its exposure to your children? Fine. I want the Bible removed from the classroom to prevent its exposure from mine.

It’s not particularly uncommon to hear a Christian say that something has occurred simply to challenge their faith; to test if they still believe post the event. Similarly, I sometimes watch Christian-interest movies to test my lack of faith.

One year and two weeks ago, I’d gone to see the film God’s Not Dead at the cinema. (For most of the 112-minute film, I’d metaphorically sat on the edge of conversion until what was ironically supposed to be the pièce de résistance of the main character’s argument.) Tonight, I’ve just been to see the sequel, unpredictably titled God’s Not Dead 2.

This film tells the story of a History teacher who is prosecuted for invoking the name of Jesus Christ in an answer to a student’s question comparing Martin Luther King Jr.’s passivism to Jesus’s teachings; she is accused of preaching and proselytising. This film seems to be set in a world in which American teachers are not allowed to even mention tangentially religious topics instead of the real world where American teachers are fighting for the right to purport that the Earth is only 10 000 (or fewer) years old because evolution is “just a theory”. Also, it’s fitting that they got Ray Wise to play the antagonist; he literally played the devil. What? Was Liz Hurley unavailable?

Maybe I’m unaware of this level of persecution that Christians may endure – and I admit that it is possible for it to occur, and especially possible for me to be ignorant of it – but I do know someone who claims that being a Christian/religious is looked down upon by society, despite Christianity being the majority faith in the world. But then again, he does often subscribe to the No True Scotsman logical fallacy.

I do not remember the level of attendance when I watched the first God’s Not Dead, but my fellow viewers certainly did not have the same zealous enthusiasm as my ‘peers’ did this time around. I felt like I was in church (or rather a Madea movie). People were nodding their approval and hmmm-ing (they could have been enjoying a snack, but I doubt the popcorn was that delicious). Someone even held his hands up and yelled “Praise Jesus”, thus obstructing my view of the screen. Asshole.

My problem with this film is not the obvious. My problem with this film is that people will watch it without critical thinking. Critical thinking does not imply or necessitate disbelief, it simply means, in this context, taking the dialogue of a fictitious motion picture with a pinch of salt. It means not hearing something in a film and automatically thinking, “That fictitious character I relate to and/or am rooting for just said it, so it must be true.” I’m sure those I shared the room with for those two hours will feel like they’ve learned something and might even go on to share it with others (as the film encourages you to do just before the end credits) to the extent that it becomes apocryphal. The film has the opportunity to grossly manipulate and distort facts to suit the malleable minds of its like-minded viewers.

For example, I watched another film by the same producers a while ago called The Genesis Code in which the characters attempt to reconcile the story of Genesis with the scientifically theoretical understanding of how the universe came to be. Again, I was taken with the film; it tested my unbelief. How? It purported that science estimates the universe to be 15 billion years old and all the math showcased in the film is based on this figure. In my ignorance of astrophysics, I accepted it until the movie ended, after which I decided to check the fact only to discover that the universe is estimated to be between 12 and 14 billion years old – and not nearly as round a number as that. The number 13.8 (rounded off) gets tossed around a lot. Their math, and thus their theory, crumbles with this realisation.

But will most people think to research the (mis)information they’re ingesting? Of course not. They’re not thereto test their faith, but to affirm it. So, still sore after having been duped by The Genesis Code, I was weary of the ‘facts’ stated in the film.

One of the facts was that the words “separation of church and state” cannot be found in the American Constitution or Bill of Rights, but was actually cited in a letter from Thomas Jefferson to a Baptist organisation. This is true. What they don’t tell – although it is mentioned – is that what you can find in the Constitution are the Establishment Clause and Free Exercise clause. And Thomas Jefferson used the famous phrase to explain to his letter’s recipients the meaning and practical use of those seemingly conflicting clauses. So while the actual words do not exist in either of the afore-mentioned documents, it does exist in concept and is still part of the foundation on which the United States of America is built.

One of the characters says that the right to believe is meaningless if believers have to give way to other (people’s) rights. I find this aggravatingly ironic. It’s fine when Christians are protesting something like homosexuality or a television show, infringing on other people’s rights, but ask them not to pray or incite prayer in schools and other public places and it turns into the religious version of #AllLivesMatter. (While we’re on the topic, despite the line in the film, the most basic human right is not to know Jesus; it’s access to Wi-Fi.)

One of the arguments the defense tries to use is that Jesus is an actual historical figure and thus it should be acceptable for a History teacher to discuss him. This, I think, was a good course of action…to a point. You see, if one could convincingly argue the existence of Jesus of Nazareth as a mortal human being, accounts of his statements would have historical significance.

Now, there are conflicting arguments about whether he did actually exist, and I have not sifted through them, but it’s clearly still debatable. (The late Christopher Hitchens emphatically proposed that there is no reason to believe Jesus existed, despite also giving reason as to why it’s plausible “that there may have been a charismatic, deluded individual wandering around at that time”. Yet his peer, avowed atheist Richard Dawkins, claims that Jesus did exist, albeit as a mortal.) So yes, argue that Jesus may have existed and the case is won. But no, they weren’t satisfied with this plausible explanation. They overshot it. They implied that existence necessitated divinity.

In the film, many ‘expert witnesses’ were brought to the stand to testify that there were several non-Christian accounts of the existence of Jesus. (Again, while plausible, I took this information with a pinch of salt, because this obviously propagandist film is hardly going to be unbiased, now is it?) It’s always terrible when a good point is ruined by a bad argument, as was unsurprisingly the case. Not only do they claim that there are academic, non-Christian accounts of Jesus’s freakin’ resurrection, an ‘expert witness’ claims – rather smugly, might I add – that the proof is in our calendar; that the separation of BC and AD (alternatively BCE and CE) is proof of Jesus’s birth, and thus if he was born, he must have existed. Our calendar. Y’know, the Gregorian calendar. Implemented over 1500 years after Jesus’s supposed birth…by a fucking pope! No suspicion of bias or ulterior motive there. No siree. 100% true. Checkmate.

Despite my lengthy objections, I do support the protagonist. The inciting situation was one in which a student compared the stance of Martin Luther King – a Christian reverend who oft quoted scripture in his speeches – to the teachings of Jesus Christ according to the Bible. I think that whether Jesus actually existed or not is irrelevant to the context. If he existed, then he is a legitimate historical figure worth discussing. If he did not exist, he is a comparable character in a work of fiction. I do not think it outside a History teacher’s jurisdiction to compare a real historical figure to a well-known fictional character, the way one might compare someone to Puck, or Holden Caulfield, or Jane Eyre, or Atticus Finch. You get the point. After all, Hitler can be compared to Voldemort. Or vice versa.

My issue is not with Christianity; it’s with ignorance and the inordinate readiness to accept false information. Naturally, there is a substantial overlap between the two.

Other things that bothered me about this film:

A big shot lawyer drew up a contract that was left-aligned instead of justified. (I realise the irony, but this is a blog post, not a contract.)

A character ironically used the word “inappropriateness” instead of “impropriety”.