Blog Archives

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 | THE BAD LITTLE BLOG

Here’s the good news, folks: our blog rolled a year over the weekend! And as irrelevant as it may seem,we’ve spent a full year tormenting you with unsolicited tips on life, religion, citizenship, sex and visions of a fourth term by President Goodluck Jonathan. And speaking of that, for those of you who have been with us all the way, you know that our favourite villain has been, second only to the Arsenal football team, Goodluck Jonathan himself. And we expect to continue to toss out more cheap shots as we anticipate 2015.

he couldn't

“I still don’t give a damn.” the President responded exasperatedly.

Now, if you’re anything like us, you probably enjoy our little lessons and morals—and forget these as soon as you close the web page. But if you’re one of those few people who actually manage to learn some stuff from this blog, possibly making insightful comments on our posts, and even referencing us in conversations with the uncool folks who’ve never read this blog—then, wow! We absolutely love you! But also, get a life—and remember to send us a tithe of your livestock when you become rich and famous.

"Idlemindset fan?" "Idlemindset fan." "Put it there, bro."

“Idlemindset fan?” “Idlemindset fan.” “Put it there, bro.”

And that’s why today, we won’t dabble into any homegrown aphorisms, but instead, we’ll tell you our own version of the classic stories of the good little boy and the bad little  boy—by Mark Twain. And while you can read the original stories here and here, we assure you that own version is more suitable for today’s fast paced money chasing environment as well as for your understandably, literary-challenged state of mind.

Anything written earlier than 2001 need not apply.

Alright, any one of you written earlier than 2001 need not apply.

Now, let’s start with the story of the good little blog. See, there was this little blog that was eager to grow up into something kickass. It was out to educate the world, enlighten the minds of folks and make the earth a better place for drinking coffee. This noble blog had plenty visions and then some more: all of which were of the highest, faultless quality. It had no plans to make profit or benefit itself , it just wanted to improve the world. And so it started out with a stream of nice articles: incisive, well written, excellent lexis, and no bad words like “fuck” or “shit” and all the other words that make people drop their public jaws in terror. It was a very nice blog, giving credit whenever it borrowed material, never stole an article and never insulted any of the other blogs.

The other blogs were handling themselves just fine.

Actually, the other blogs were damaging themselves just fine.

When our good little blog got kicking, it attracted a few readers—like everything new. But because it had no scandal or gossip to offer, the few readers who came over were not impressed, and eventually they stopped visiting the blog and soon forgot about it totally. The only comments on the posts were from trolls and spambots and the good little blog had to close the comments page just to avoid the headache of deleting these undesirables. But a hacker got into the blog and put up a nasty picture on the blog’s homepage—just for the “lulz”. The blog was shut down by the hosting site, and (just for the “lulz”) the hosts sued the good little blog for a million dollars and won—because the good little blog tried to be all logical and stuff when it appeared in court. Unable to use logic to pay the hard cash, the good little blog was sold off and it died in ignominy, forever unremarkable.

"Crappy"  can also mean "way above my head."

“Crap” can mean a lot of things—depending on who’s being asked.

Meanwhile in another part of the country, there was the bad little blog–and when we say “bad”, we mean—fucking horrible—its only goal was to make money, and there was no story that was too low for it to publish. It stole articles from other blogs with dismissive elan. It never educated anybody and never wrote about ideas. Instead it was  the ultimate jerk: willing to take bribes to suppress true stories, while setting up untrue stories (about celebrities) and nasty stories (about ordinary folks). In fact, this bad little blog was quite adept at stirring up controversies and shit. Naturally, everyone complained about the bad little blog, but this bad blog was a splendid hypocrite, carefully using “s*x” for “sex” whenever the need arose—and somehow its page-views kept rising along with its readership, commentary and advertisers. Especially, the advertisers.

"When we said: Everywhere You Go, we were merely referring to the websites you visit!"

“When we said: Everywhere You Go, we were merely referring to the websites you visit.”

The bad little blog eventually became a giant website and ranked first in the whole country. Because of its popularity, it easily won respectable awards, consistently receiving the title of Most Distinguished Blog of the Year, Best Political Blog of the Year, Awesomely Distracting Blog of the Year and such other fancy titles. It even got into the inspirational racket—making money off folks while pretending to give revelations about stuff that was freely available on the internet—if only the audience would get off their collective asses and do a Google search. Well, you know the rest of the story—our bad little blog earned big, entered politics as the official government spokesblog and when it retired, it was widely praised as an innovator in the blogging  industry, although no one could quite say for certain what this bad little blog innovated that was useful to the society.

Well, except maybe the lesson above.

Well, except maybe the lesson above.

And of course, you know the moral for today. You already know the point we’re trying to make all along: that is, Idlemindset is a good little blog which is gradually dying because folks are more interested in entertainment than in enlightenment; and that you need to change your ways so that this blog can help you become a better person. Right?

Wrong.

You see, we are a bad little blog, and we’ve been quite good at being naughty. What’s more, we’re quite chuffed that you’ve stayed with us all the rascally way.  And here’s our lesson for today: You, our Idlemindset folks, are the coolest. You rock, dudes, you rock!

Remember to follow @idlemindset on Twitter as we plan to send the first Nigerian politician to the moon—without space gear.

IDLEMINDSET | LET’S GO LEARN SOME LAW, FOLKS

Apologies, our dearly beloved, highly tolerant, constant readers. You see, we have no post today. We’ve been on some sort of extended sick leave. Sort of. 😉

Instead, we’ll give you the chance to go have some fun on our companion blog: ayosogunro.com and improve your career opportunities by learning how to be a trial lawyer. Doubtful? The article starts very encouragingly. Let’s show you.

__________

The first time I appeared in court before a judge I was all a-sweat. I was sure it had nothing to do with tension—like my office colleagues teased—I simply had an uncontrollable glandular problem. Go on, Google it. It caused me severe dehydration for the entire day. I knew almost nothing about court appearances and not even my fine qualifications from both the university and the law school could reassure me. Anyway, by the end of the day, the case I went for went easy and smooth—and I even had the opportunity to coach the opposing lawyer on some items. So, how did I go from being a novice to being one of the greatest lawyers? And how can you also become a great lawyer with little or no formal training? All you need to know is the recipe that makes a person a lawyer, the stuff that separates a lawyer from a layman, and like most things like this—they are surprisingly simple. I assure you, if you can imbibe these few tips you are about to read, you’re on your way to being the next SAN!…

__________

You get the drift? Continue reading it by clicking on the link below, or you can get back to work—which we recommend. 🙂

LAW 101: ANYBODY CAN BE A TRIAL LAWYER, HERE’S HOW! | By Ayo Sogunro

See you folks next week! Thanks for being cool.

IDLEMINDSET | A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

This is to inform the general public that…. No, no, that wouldn’t do. That’s the kind of  prelude that sends a shiver up your spine.  There’s something terrifying about information to “the general public” that makes a person nervous when the words are spoken. We can’t put a finger on this, but we know it has a lot to do with growing up under the era of government-owned TV stations. You just know that any information for the “general public” is going to be detrimental to your welfare.

a

The noticeboard for the Headmaster

So instead of that “public service” crap, we will just proceed with our usual flair. Today, on Idlemindset, if possible, we will discuss some less controversial issues. There will be no politics, no religion and no Arsenal.

Our apologies.

No comment.

You see, as clearly stated in today’s title and hinted in the first paragraph, we have a minor announcement for our constant readers. Brace yourselves, folks, our announcement is coming—we are dumping this blog in search of greener pastures.

The papacy is a source of inspiration to us all.

The papacy is a source of inspiration to us all.

Just kidding. This is the real announcement:  for a while, we will be updating Idlemindset fortnightly instead of weekly. Why? Because we are currently working on a book—and we have gotten to that stage of production where the slightest distraction can set every plan off tangent. Of course, your weekly dose of polite sarcasm and social irreverence is important to us, but we have to give up some of our pharmaceutical duties. So, you can close this page now and get back to work.

Work comes in different shapes and tackling.

Work comes in different shapes and tackling.

But if you’re interested in little details such as the title of the book, what kind of book, and how often do we brush our teeth, well here’s a little information. Its a collection of sorry tales and so the title is, unimaginatively, Sorry Tales. We could try and tell you more now, but publishers and editors being such assholes, we never really know what’s going to come out from the printing presses. But here’s a tip on the book: plenty people get blown up, others get shot, some folks fall in love, others plot strategies and build empires, lots of very exciting things. What we lack in imaginative titles, we make up for in imaginative stories.

A woman is "just relaxing" in one place, dead and resurrected in another.

Just like the First Lady.

Meanwhile, instead of twiddling your thumbs and waiting for us to post something more stimulating than a book announcement, you can check out some of our earlier posts (there’s plenty excitement in there too!) and also subscribe for notifications of new postings by clicking a button somewhere on the left side of this page. If that doesn’t really do it for you, or you think we’re really, really just being idle, well, you can write a book too. 🙂

Once you get the pipe, the rest is easy.

Once you get the pipe, the rest is easy.

IDLEMINDSET | OH GOD PLEASE, NOT ANOTHER BLOG!

It is a commonplace activity these days: blogging. Millions of cyberpages containing words mostly doomed to exist ethereally without being read (amusing thought: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?). Long vanished are the days when words were precious, when writing and reading were privileges. The days of wise, learned and dignified writers.

He was the Michael Jackson of his day

The days when publicly naked men were regarded as teachers and not madmen.

Today, the web is crammed with web pages and blogs and I am responsible for three of these already: my main blog where I blow off accumulated or inspired literary steam; a blog collection of some wacky stories you will love to read; and a more serious academic blog for serious minded folks.

Well, its technically a blog

Wikipedia. I mean, Wikipedia

But, the problem is, those other blogs are content-specific, kind off like an apartheid mosque, things don’t mix up. Well, this is the liberating blog–for me, of course. Its up to you to decide whether you care for another bookmark on your overfull browser.

If you click far back enough...

These days, its just Linda Ikeji for gals and porn sites for guys …

So that’s it…for now. The latest blog in cybertown, folks.

ayo sogunro

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