Category Archives: Random Flashes

IDLEMINDSET |THROWBACKS, COCK-UPS AND SOME LUPITA TOO!

Frankly, we don’t care much about the political skulduggery that parades up on down the pages of Nigerian newspapers because, fuck politics, that’s why. Most of what you see is the same old news: ass licking, back stabbing and fifty shades of public masturbation. Even more importantly, there are world-shaking current events that requires our immediate attention, if not even outright demonstrations.

For example: Did someone tone up Lupita's teeth to be a tad whiter?

Did someone tone up Lupita’s teeth? Does it look, the gods forbid, whiter?

But, now and then, some gem of an ironic cock-up comes along, grabs you by the throat and tickles you hard in the ribs till you want to seize your office-issued laptop and throw it across the room in annoyance.(Which would be totally cool if you tried it right now.)

"No, You really don't want to do that."

“No, You really don’t want to do that.”

Now, this particular issue isn’t a shiny new story, it’s the same old crap, with a touched up tissue paper. And no, it isn’t the particular scandal you’re thinking: you know, that pile of wank about the Sanusi-Boko Haram conspiracy theory; that story circulated (allegedly, allegedly—this is for the damn lawyers) by a presidential aide who has to be the most interesting man in the Nigerian social media circle right now.

"You won't always see me smiling. But when I do, I'm Wendell Smilin'."

“You won’t always see me smiling. But when I do, I’m Wendell Smilin’.”

We’ll get back to Sanusi. But, for now, let’s focus on the ringleader of the president’s batshit crazy media circus, our erstwhile tutor and rebel leader, Mr Reuben Abati. See, back in 2009, before the mischievous gods took a hand in his affairs, Abati wrote this thoughtful article where he advised Nigerians to reflect before celebrating independence anniversaries. Not one to be intimidated by a few lines of hyperbole, Abati proclaimed that: “The world is passing us by. At 49, we are a nation of malcontents. When last did anyone tell a happy national story made on Nigerian soil?

When last

“No. I can’t take this crap anymore, bro”

A fair enough observation, especially from a bright and hardworking intellectual who had had to face the hard knocks of working class reality in a country consistently administered by rouges since 1914. Life as an everyday Nigerian isn’t sexy–and damned if Reuben Abati didn’t know that shit. There was nothing to celebrate in 2009, and he looked ahead to proclaim that there was nothing to celebrate in 2010–and by extension, 2014. But Abati, hot and brilliant writer that he was, sucked hard in the prophecy department, for, as we all know, his personal life became a happy national story. The deadbeat jalopy gave way to presidential jets, and our previously angry discontent turned into a contented philosopher.

“Oh Lawd, for some more of that sweet, sweet petrodollar.”

So, great, Abati discovered financial orgasm and renounced his activism. But  the hunger-inspired words he wrote some four years ago still require some serious consideration. Especially after the Sanusi debacle. Especially after the Boko Haram debacle. Especially now that our government has gone bonkers with a centenary celebration which good old Soyinka frankly refers to as  a “canonisation of terror“.

Which is Soyinkaesque for: "That's some fucking shit."

Which is Soyinkaesque for: “That’s some fucking shit, Mister.”

Of course, hard as his PR team may try to deny it, we all know that President Jonathan is quite the connoisseur of wine, women and the good life.  Which are all fine things for the modern gentleman. But with a terrorist takeover of the North East, allegations of financial misconduct, and several other shenanigans,  the dude needs to connect with the current atmosphere of the country—and then, you know, maybe take a break from one or two delicious female members of the cabinet. 

“…dat ass!”

We don’t begrudge celebrations. But the current socio-political mood is just as important as a sense of history, and neither of the these two point to the need for a jamboree today. Think of this: Abati wrote years ago that there was nothing worth celebrating; Sanusi, former member of that same government, says things are even worse than they were years ago. But Sanusi is what happens when you have an activist in the government, and Abati is what happens when you have the government in an activist. Somewhere in between these two is some common sense, but common sense doesn’t receive centenary awards. And if you still don’t get the point, then get the fuck outta this blog.

But first, check up our book on Amazon/Kindle:

Sorry Tales - Kindle-500x500

Or if you’re in Nigeria, on Addiba and Konga too!

 

IDLEMINDSET | SPIRITUAL ARGUMENTS AND A FEW PUZZLES

The funny news is this: this Sunday morning in Lagos, President Jonathan genuinely baffled us with the statement that, without the backup activity of prayer warriors, Nigeria’s security status would have been even more screwed up than it currently is. Now, we know that you, our readers, are prayer-addicts and good luck—no pun—with that! But when a democratically elected President makes such a statement on public safety, you have to—as they say in England—shine your eyes well-well. Although, on the bright side: at least you know the President has a security plan in place.

"Mr President, sir, we are pleased to present you with the new National Defense Policy."

The new National Defense Policy.

Now, reliance on prayer is not so shabby a security blueprint, (although we consider it totally ass-fucked), considering that it seems to work well enough for the Vatican. The problem is, while the Vatican has Angel Michael on speed dial, someone in the Ministry of Defense forgot to obtain VIP pass for final approval from God—or whatever witchery you have to perform to get your prayers working—for, no sooner had the President finished his statement than Boko Haram flipped him a finger and pulled another dick move—in what has to be the most astonishing case of conflicting reliance on divine instructions.

"Look, I can't keep doing all the work for you."

“Look, I repeat, I didn’t send the Boko Haram people on their mission. Ask the other guy.”

Now, of course, Boko Haram isn’t a new issue in the country. In fact, every well bred Nigerian—unlike us—knows that a situation stops being a “pressing issue” after three days of non-resolution by the government. And, after two weeks it stops being an issue altogether. And accordingly, the most successful public policy of Nigerian governments has been: “Hang on guys, let’s allow this one to blow off by itself.” And if the particular public official ranks high on the asshole scale—they may even pass it off as an unsolvable spiritual problem.

"We need a little more time. Erm, just little."

“Hang on guys, NNPC needs your prayer.s”

Common sense says Boko Haram isn’t going to blow off by itself, and an offering-load of prayers will not resurrect one dead victim. But this is Nigeria, and we love to screw around with vital situations, and that’s why the government is committed to investing prayer  into public issues—and that’s why religious leaders have tried to re-brand the president as some Old Testament king.

And, by the gods, have they tried!

Because the symbol of Nigeria’s sovereignty just has to bow to the symbols of Nigeria’s gullibility.

And as long as the Nigerian government continue to muddle personal spiritual issues with public policy issues they will continue to screw the job they are given. But, naturally, the government has always responded to social criticism by mistaking unhappiness with discontent: but Nigerians are not merely discontent with the half-assed attitude a government that relies on magic—miracles, if you wish—they are truly unhappy about it.

Also, we like Dokubo, we just can't stand his face hair.

Alongside with Dokubo and that ridiculous face hair.

But GEJ is a sly dog. Instead of facing his critics on the continued Boko Haram insurgency, it is plain easier for him to file the problem away as a “God vs Satan” affair, and leave Oritsejafor and his book club members to sort it out. Afterall, no “sane” Nigerian really expects Goodluck Jonathan, Mortal, to do all the work when it comes to waging war against the damn Devil.

"Yes, and you elected me to be killed, right? Please go on."

“Dafuq you mean: you elected me to be President. So?”

And when the majority of Nigerians are wired to think this way, then the government wins the lottery. And here’s the lesson for today:  the Nigerian government counts on your approval to a spiritual argument. Even more, it counts on your inability to detect when your brain is being messed with. You see, GEJ isn’t just appreciative of your prayers, he’s also appreciative of your tendency to forget the underlying issues by the time you are done reading this line.

Just don’t forget to buy our book on Amazon/Kindle:

Sorry Tales - Kindle-500x500

Or maybe, on Addiba and Konga too!

IDLEMINDSET | THAT DEMOCRATIC FALLACY (AND A BIT OF ASS!)

Here’s the good news: we’re bringing you an Idlemindset article. The bad news? We’re still assholes—and not the good type either. We’re the evil kind of asshole—the ones who just won’t give a  fuck. Not even after you’ve set it up all oiled and ready to go, eventually driving you to mocking insanity for your inability to get that anal you’ve always fantasied about…. Wait. How did we get here?

Ass. It all started with ass.

Ass. It all started with ass.

Okay, let’s just focus. Especially on the positive aspects of what you’re doing right now—using your employer’s time to read this absolutely work-unrelated post, and getting paid for it at the end of the month. Think about that. Wow, right? A life of free money.

And that's the only thing workers everywhere ask for.

And that’s the only thing workers everywhere ask for.

We’ll that’s why we have unions, democracy and traffic lights: so we can protect the weak elements of society against the caprices of the stronger ones. Especially if by “weak”, you mean “poor, struggling, downtrodden masses” and by “strong” you mean “rich as fuck.” And so today, you can do absolutely nothing at all and still get paid like hell for that nothing. And this works very well, generally, because some people fought for your right to wank during office hours a long time ago. And that recognition of human rights is part of why more countries are shifting towards some form of democratic government.

Now you know where your next visa application goes. You're welcome.

Feel free to update your 2014 visa resolutions. You’re welcome.

Democratic ideals are good for political business: you see, when the people are happy with their lives, families and jobs (or at least, when they think they are happy: which is also generally acceptable) then the government is happy. But, democracy can be just as terrible as a dictatorship when mishandled by the people and their government. And more so when the people forget the whole point of the democratic process: freedom. And that’s why Socrates had to call out the fuck-ups of democracy by distinguishing between democracy for the purpose of dealing with “shallow issues” and democracy for the purpose of  dealing with “urgent human questions”.

Meh. Shallow issues.

Meh. Shallow issues.

Now, we’re not saying Socrates is the smartest of the bunch—afterall, he chose to die by drinking poison rather than lose what was essentially, a twit-fight—but, the dude had a fair point. You see, democracy as a game of numbers is good for making decisions about the allocation of communal goods and resources: these are, ultimately, “shallow issues”. But when it comes to decisions affecting rights, justice, fairness and equity—aka “urgent human questions”—you just can’t leave it to a game of numbers and the will of the people. Especially when those numbers are out to kill you.

“So you said, you want to ask the audience. Right?”

Rights—however defined—transcend numbers. But when some clever politician argues that  the “will of the majority” in a democratic setting makes an action okay, then this fallacy is certain to get  a fair number of people confused. But anyone who has ever seen a violent “majority” mob knows that the argument is absolute nonsense. A mob, whether legalised or not, doesn’t care about “urgent human issues”.

“Dare me. Just mention the constitution again.”

But by definition, a mob is irrational. Democracy is not—and shouldn’t be—a license for the majority to destroy the opinion of the minority. Or vice-versa. No matter how reprehensible the other side of the argument is to you.

And no matter how much you’re tempted to whack those making such arguments on the head.

It’s a simple idea, really, but most people fail to see it—because humans are essentially wired to be assholes. And here’s the moral for today: if the discussion is about roads, airports and election timetables, democracy works fine; but when the debate shifts to the repression of the minority, then the fact that the majority are all for it still doesn’t make it right. And if you’re really convinced that everyone has to compulsorily share your opinion—then get an island.

But first, buy our book on Amazon/Kindle:

Sorry Tales - Kindle-500x500

Or maybe, on Addiba and Konga too!

IDLEMINDSET | HEY! HERE COMES THE BRIDE

Today’s title is a bad pun; used in mocking deference to our current social trauma. You see, folks here love us some noise-making activity: weddings, funerals, protests. And, what with the rainy season and the gloomy dreariness of the political landscape and the entertainment industry, we’re quite ripe for some serious noise-making.

"What do we want?" "Scandals!" "Where do we want it?" "Nollywood!"

“What do we want?” “Scandals!” “Where do we want it?” “Nollywood!”

Luckily, the legislature gave us one that’s as morally provoking as an episode of Big Brother Africa. You know the gist already, but let’s rehash it briefly. Sometime last week, the Senate decided to try their hands at a good deed. Maybe it was the Ramadan season and they were feeling especially pious, or maybe the air-conditioning was bad, but somehow they got off their fat asses and voted to delete a provision from the Constitution with the undeclared intention of saving young girls from being  hustled into early marriages. Except that they did not consider Yerima whom, as a kid, all the little girls used to laugh at and call names.

"Soon. Very soon."

“Soon. Very soon.”

And so the devil was waiting in the details, Yerima, our infamous monster, wasted no time in being dickish about the first vote;  like a petulant child, he harangued the tired legislators into a brain-freeze, and before you could shout  “ChildNotBride!” he had cowed the Senate into a re-vote where he managed to scuttle the original idea. Their attempt at living a righteous life suitably thwarted, the Senators took the matter as a sign from God, and moved on to the more pressing and less-controversial matters of financial allocations and self remunerations.

"It's a simple matter," said David Mark, "The Senate giveth and the Senate taketh away."

“It’s a simple matter,” said David Mark sagaciously. “The Senate giveth and the Senate taketh away.”

However,  some of us idle folks would not be so easily persuaded by this drama, and soon the catapults were unslung, and a barrage of accusatory and reformative missives were directed at Abuja. Loud and clear, the noise began. Across the country. Folks  poured out to sign petitions—both clear and unclear—in a bid to put a lid on the mess being boiled by the Senate. The social media had its day, and frantic energy fizzled in the tweets. World War Three was all set for a launch date and somewhere, a senator  cursed the day they decided to amend the goddamn Constitution in the first place.

The AC contractor has got a lot of explaining to do.

The AC contractor has got a lot of explaining to do.

Now we’re not here to rain on the protesting parade. Not at all. In fact, we dig all of this. It’s all very healthy and inspiring. You see, few things improve the mind like a little protest now and then. But with one condition: if you gotta protest,  then don’t fuck around—figuratively and literally. You see, Nigeria has been a great place for fucking around—and that becomes quite boring after a few decades. The government knows the fucking around cycle too well and it takes advantage of it too often. The cycle is like this: first comes the blunder, next comes the hoopla, and then afterwards, yesterday’s hot topic becomes “stale gist”, and life moves on.

And then we can start cracking bad jokes about it.

And then we can move on to the bad jokes.

Here’s the question: how long can you sustain your current enthusiasm before your attention is captivated by the next trending topic? Sure, there’s a new bride in town, but don’t mistake the wedding for the marriage. Do not confuse novelty with passion, and restlessness with activism. Sometimes, what  gets the noise going is merely the general infatuation for the new bride, but the fight has to go on even after the noise quietens. And here’s the lesson for today: if you must have a bride: marry her—don’t just wed her; if you must protest a government policy: fight it to the end—don’t just make some temporary noise.

Oh, one more thing: #ChildNotBride!

IDLEMINDSET | HERE’S YOUR BUSINESS: FACE IT!

Gbeborun. Busybody. Pokenose. Abusive words, but we know there’s a certain delight in yarning stuff that’s not your concern. And on an international level, this delight is just awesome. You feel larger than Jonathan’s pension, discussing issues on a global scale. Left to us, we’ll celebrate your expert participation in international social trends—AKA, joblessness. We’ll gladly declare a public holiday for this social education aimed at further glorifying your banal self-aggrandizement. But good thing it’s not left to us, because really, this trait is just as effed up as the lawmaking in Rivers State.

"And here's for daring to raise a counter-motion!"

“And here’s for daring to raise a counter-motion!”

Now, it may seem odd that we’re going to take a piss on idle talk, seeing as that’s our manifesto in these parts. Fact: its written all above the page and everywhere else. But there’s a sort of idle talk that’s good for the community, the kind that keeps the conversation going. And there’s the other type of idle talk that only keeps your mouth and other people’s time going. And there’s a simple test to decide which is which. We’ll give you this well-tested system at the end of the page.

It won't make you rich. Don't bother rushing to check.

It won’t make you rich. Don’t bother rushing to check.

It’s not a new idea, it’s been present in Europe and America, but now has its current head office in Nigeria, Africa. This idea that you can determine a person’s level of sophistication by their ability to correctly name car hire services in London and restaurants in Dubai. Especially with a—usually bullshit—accent picked from these travels and which has somehow, suddenly dislodged the local one that has been in place for over twenty years. This fraudulent social psychology is a fallout from the days when the most knowledgeable person in the colonial African community was the one who had shipped out of Africa—for education or otherwise—and had come back with marvelous stories of life beyond the black continent. Naturally, these “been-tos” attained oracular status and thus began the craziness of mistaking overseas travel for metaphysical knowledge or another country’s visa as a statement of intelligence.

Or the status of first lady as a constitutional office.

Or the status of first lady as a constitutional office.

Today, of course, travel is virtually commonplace and it’s easier for your local errand boy to become a Member of Parliament in the UK than for him to get a National ID card. But still, that misguided assumption that the ability to comment on foreign affairs equals social sophistication and international sagacity is still very alive—in the current form of the national pastime of vigorously agitating on socio-political matters in other parts of the world, while much more important issues are burning in the backyard.

Finding Yvonne Nelson's medicine, for one thing.

Yvonne Nelson’s lost medicine, for one thing.

And that’s why we can expend much time and energy on the random shooting of one black American and blank our minds to the gruesome systematic killing of schoolchildren right up our asses. We have our dead, but we are more concerned about America’s dead. Let the dead bury their dead, Jesus said, and he would have added: “and to each his own fucking business” except that he thought you would figure that out.

"And speaking of figures, how hard is to count among 36 governors, people!"

“And speaking of figures, how hard is to count 36 governors, folks!”

And you know what, the Nigerian intelligentsia have discussed every issue that plagues America and Europe. We’ve even dissected North Africa and the Middle East. An now, maybe its time to get back home and treat our own fuck-ups with similar attention: the issues are there, refusing to leave by themselves. Of course, you ought to be charitable, but there’s a reason some folks say it has to begin at home. And here’s today’s free gift: the next time some  intellectual indignantly tries to rouse you about some injustice in another country, ask the person: how the fuck does this guarantee electricity in Nigeria? If you get some bullshit answer about pan-Africanism or world peace then just dial 199—it’s Nigerian for Get-Me-The-Hell-Out-Of-Here!

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