Now what most people did not know up until classified documents were released at he turn of the century was the need for Gingers to consume the souls of real people. In order to remain animated, they must feast on the souls of the living much as their close relatives the vampires, who also stalk the night, feast on blood. For your common ginger, a dark haired soul is vital life force which must be sustained at all costs.

Are you afraid? Well you should be this is a serious matter. I am here to put you at ease however. For a start, I would like to make clear some advances in ginger soul eating research. It turns out that you cannot have your soul eaten by any ginger you pass in the street. Other myths associated with gingers have also turned out t be false. For instance, sitting on a toilet seat that a ginger sat on before you does not mark you with their ginger scent thus making you the next target for “soul feasting”. Furthermore recent research has shown that there is no ginger gene. Even though gingers can only come from a family where there are gingers already it has nothing to do with genetics. And how could it, there is no soul gene. It turns out that once there was a couple, around 4000 BC who angered God and so he took their souls away. But they managed stay animate(the human body stays alive for an hour after a soul has left) by feasting on the souls of others. They then procreated, and the offspring were damned for their families wicked ways.

So We all know how it is that gingers come into existence. But this leaves us with the question, why are there still gingers being born on a daily basis especially considering how much people are grosses out by their pale complexion blemished only by dark patches of what they call “freckles” (although no like to regular freckles has ever been made. I prefer to think of them as marks of the gingerbeast). Well this repulsion has been prevalent since the first gingers prowled the night for prey. So how do they perpetuate? Well the truth is that gingers can only feed on the souls of those who deny their requests. What happens is that most often innocent people fall in with a ginger (usually liberal hippies and the like) and become trapped in a “relationship” (I say relationship but that implies some sort of emotion, which we know factually that gingers cannot have). The ginger then makes requests of the human who is forced to comply at pain of “soul feasting”, thus gingers propose marriage and procreation and all they choose from their chosen victim.

Now geneticists argue that ginger gene is a real phenomenon in that ginger is slowly being weeded out of the population. However this is explainable in terms of radical advancements n ginger preventative technology. Ear plugs which can block out even the loudest ginger request are the latest fashion in first world countries. I myself carry around three pairs and one which I have stored in my shoes in case of an emergency. Furthermore the number of occurrences of people putting their fingers in their ears and yelling LALALALALALALALAlA at the top of their voice has gone up ten fold since 2001.

So now you know you are armed with the latest Ginger knowledge. And ignorance of the facts was your greatest danger.  Be Safe, take steps, and BE VIGILANT.

Today good friends I have no point to make. No doubt the bellows of anguish will be wide spread. Worry not, for I have a plan in mind. A plan so cunning that i wish I could take credit for it. I intend to leave you with a cliff hanger.

“How boring” I hear you think, with my sixth sense ears located three quarters of the way down my spine. Invisible to the naked eye, but ruins my silhouette beneath my shirt. But wait. For this is no run of the mill cliffhanger, it is a cliff hanger so great that it will make that time MacGyver forgot to pack his chewing gum and paperclip at the end of season 7  look like childs play…

so here goes…

think about it, you know it to be true!!

Are you ready? …

“INTERSPECIES WRESTLING”…

to be continued…

A Note From The Editor: Any and all comments on this hot button issue will be welcomed in th comments section, the best arguments and discussion will be referenced by your screen name in my soon to be released sequel entitled Interspecies wresting II: attck of the cuttlefish. Go wild people. HAR HAR see, I like laughing at my crappy jokes.. I TOLD YOU

My story starts with a simple phrase which while cliched seems to resonate with most people and indeed myself. Go with the flow. I have been told this time and time again in different contexts by different people in many different situations. What I have yet to encounter, is a person who has fully come to terms with what this really entails. It is in fact by no means an easy come easy go life which it seems on the face of it to be. It is precisely this deception which makes “going with the flow” something that very few people actually live by.

Now what I have to say on this matter will no doubt seem mundane to you the moment you begin to reflect on what I have said and am about to say. This does not however make what I have to say any less important. So what do we does it mean to go with the flow?

No doubt this conjures images of oneself floating, some lazy sunny afternoon on a cool dark river dressed in banks made deep emerald but the shade of great weeping trees. And so it should. But this ideal still life image is the one of the greatest lies that is told.

While I believe it to be true that this snap shot depicts much of our workaday lives, it is a few hours down stream where we fail to live that life we so desire. As the flow begins to quicken it threatens to drown us in our ambitions, our fears, our perceived inadequacies, and the general problems that we tend create out of nothing as only the human mind can do. For some rather obvious reasons, going with the flow is a maxim which most tend abandon as they claw their way against the flow which can never in truth be avoided.

Facing the rapid is often too daunting a prospect to face. An all too easy intuition is to try and get oneself  as far from the rocks as possible and back to the humdrum of the cool depths.  In reality this can never be. We can fight the current, staving off the inevitable hardship for only so long. In reality all this achieves is getting ourselves banged up even worse on the way down.

So what should we do? Go with the flow? Perhaps this solution seems obvious now. But please do not think that it will be easy. To truly go with the flow requires that we accept that  there will be rocks before us. To realise that we are going to get bloodied up a little bit. Few things that are easy are best. It is easy to go to war, god knows we do it often enough, but it is hard to lay down arms and talk. it is easy to sit back while injustice is done, but hard to fight for what you believe.

It is easy try avoid your personal rocks, but  it is hard to realise that risking a grazed knee or a hurt pride is the only way to reach those cool depths we so crave. Even if there are many rocks and many a broken bone beyond the present rapids.

I have been thinking about why personal change is something so hard implement. I have thought for some time that it was fear which serves to cripple before undertaking that journey-of-self into the misty and potentially treacherous new world. The more I think about this however, the more convinced that this is simply not the case. While fear can do some powerful things, things that I hope to speak about another time, this is one thing I am sure it is not responsible for.

What then is the cause of this all this inability to effect change in ourselves? It seems quite plain to me that changing is not itself hard. Left to our own devices, we would change with ease. We have the required commitment and desire to effect that change, and yet we cannot. Even if we try, it is supremely difficult to implement that change. Fear cannot really be what is doing the work here. Most people, who try and change, are certain they would be better off. I cannot see many people being afraid of being happier.

Unless they are afraid of the rabid monster squirrels of Peru. That is genuine fear, those little furry balls of murders do not much like change, and they will strip your ankle to the bone in a matter of days if the so much as smell the winds of change a-blowing. Beware the Rabid Peruvian squirrels. But I Digress.

Self image is well known for its importance and power, but one aspect off imaging I think we sometimes forget is the social image. While not directly related to my point, the idea that we people are afraid of revealing apart of themselves for fear that others will not accept them, serves to produce great anxiety in those wishing to become something socially unacceptable. An occasion which ought to be celebrated, is made painful and tough to commit to, thanks to unfounded social stigma.

Now this is not my concern, as I realise this is a difficult time for people in those situations, but often the overcome that, some with ease, some only after a long time. Certainly there are those who cannot overcome this and never get to reveal themselves. But for fear of stepping on toes, due perhaps to my ignorance of that particular issue, I will put it aside.

If you or I were to undertake a change of persona to something more fitting to who we really were, one that we were not afraid people might shun. We would no doubt find it hard. Why though? It comes down to the worst of all the silly sayings in the English language. “First impressions last”. The fact of the matter is that in general people are unprepared to accept you as anything other than the “you” they created an “identity” for in that first meeting, or common understanding of “who you are” over a period of time.

While you may try and change, those people will serve as a shackle you to the cell, of your former imprisonment. Dragging you back to the very self you crave so deeply to escape from. The sad truth ladies and gentleman, is that most of the time people are trying to improve who they are, and we are trying to keep them where they are, so that we can remain content in the knowledge that the people we know remain a source permanence.

Well it has been a rough couple of months indeed, as you have no doubt surmised. I have worked tirelessly at my philosophy, not without some reward mind you. I have spent a great deal of time trying to come to grips with the personal identity. I won’t bore you with the details, but I can now say with some certainty, that you and I don’t really exist, so the endeavour would be pointless any way.

I have found the challenge rewarding however. What I have learned is that philosophy is the greatest game ever played. No matter what the creators of that silly movie say. There are few more exciting challenges than testing your wits against some rather bright minds. This is not to say that I rank myself anywhere near them, not even at all, but it is no less fun.

This brings me nicely to my next point about macadamia nuts. They are quite delicious. I would quite like Black Cat to make macadamia nut butter. That would be very tasty. Sigh, I could lament the positive attributes of exotic nuts for hours, so I will move swiftly along.

I have recently come to appreciate the diverse world of Indie music, and have been thoroughly impressed at the quality some of these smaller bands. The only problem with listening to these fantastic pieces of auditory delight is that occasionally, you find a song that makes you look inside and really grapple with yourself in your entirety. Then, the track changes and you are left thinking deep thoughts with little real purpose. Well I say that it is of little purpose, but I am beginning to think that these insights we can gain can be life changing.

I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a song called “Prophets” by A.C. Newman. While listening to this song I did not follow the lyrics as I usually do when listening to a new song. This time I was swept up in the music, and began to tumble down my own rabbit hole. The rabbit bit me and I resurfaced. Swearing at the fact that my darn sister owns a rabbit at her ripe old age (Love you kiddo). Once again I got swept up in the music and started to look at things about myself that I just take for granted. What I found is of little importance to anyone but me. What I will say, is that rabbit bites really do hurt.

The point I think I am taking sufficiently long to make, is that these times of reflection actually produce something that may really make you stand up and take notice. Whether it be a bleeding ankle (metaphorical or otherwise), or something profound about yourself, reflecting on who we are and why we are the way we are, can have some startling, positive impacts. Impacts on the way we see ourselves and the way we see others.

Whether it is music, art, sundowners or your favourite type of nutty spread on toast, falling down your own rabbit hole can make your life far more meaning full than before. Even if it is painful to fall, and painful to get bitten on the ankle when you get to the bottom by a ruddy rabbit.

I imagine the appropriate thing to do at this point is to try and give you all some idea of what I am all about. This is no mean feat as I have come to realise. The main reason being, that even for myself, it is pretty difficult to even know what I’m all about.

So below is a non-exhaustive and by no means concrete list of the things that I seem to enjoy at this juncture in my life.

Unlike a dating video this list will include no “long walks on the beach”. In fact I really don’t really like the beach all that much. Much less is my opinion of long walks with no purpose. Such a remarkable waste of energy has never been a favourite of those who like to spend their spare time horizontal. It is as precisely one of that number that I am happy to include myself. So I suppose that is fun fact number 1 about Mike.

Unfortunately I am no simple man to understand. I am one of marked contradictions. When I am not spending time gazing at the ceiling in my room with a guitar (fun fact number 2 for those out there keeping track) resting on my belly- it’s not much of a beer belly but I’m working hard in it. I have been for some time with little success. I’m assured it will come with age. But I’m not holding my breath. It appears that the only way for me to put on weight would be to fall pregnant of begin radical doses of steroids. However both options would end up, if not require me losing some thing I’d rather not lose. So I will settle for looking unlike a Greek Adonis or a beer swilling couch potato. But I digress. As I said as much as I enjoy lounging around I enjoy getting fit and playing squash or tennis. Well I say “as much as” but really I go through phases, but hey it’s not as if I need to be regular (with my fitness…haha) to keep my figure as I have pointed out.

Unfortunately I am currently in a bit of a lull of activity as I am on holiday. I am a student At the University of Kwa-zulu Natal doing philosophy honours, despite my age (23). This is not because I am a drop out as you may have expected from my “horizontal” rant above. I started out studying law but decided that Philosophy was more for me. It was probably my most defining moment when I realised that through Philosophy I might have an opportunity to make my mark on the world. I guess we all want a slice of immortality and philosophy is my attempt to “get a piece of that action”. I would like my slice to be rather large though, a piece of information that no doubt holds the key to analysis of my psyche.

Ok so that’s all you really need to know about me to understand my little blog entries that are to follow. I’m sure a new entry will follow soon so stay tuned!!!