ktravula – a travelogue!

Silence

I have nothing to say, so I’m saying nothing.

But, the ingenious gas stations in Lagos now take fifty naira extra if you should dare come there without your car. I still don’t understand the logic. I spend my own efforts to walk about a mile from my house to the station, keg in hand, and I get to pay fifty naira extra? Why? “That’s how it it sir. If you had come with your car, we won’t have asked you for it.”

And, my blog – I hear – has been inaccessible since several hours. Why? Bluehost has gone bollocks for a few hours. Database issues etc. How is that my concern? Yes, I’m contacting my lawyers to sue them for emotional distress and the number of readers lost during the interregnum. Oh, I forgot I’m still in Nigeria. Sigh.

Plus, I’ve written one new poem – after such a long time. It was a needed release.

I’ve also been staring at descending airplanes close to my house. Air France, British Airways, Arik, The Nigerian, KLM etc. They all pass by at thirty minutes intervals during the day, and ten to fifteen minutes interval at night. I kinda like it. It beats bird watching, and I keep imagining who is in each of them, and what is going through their minds, some of them arriving in Nigeria either for the first time, or for the first time in years. So many dreams in the belly of an aircraft.

Plus, all the other pictures from Badagry that I wanted to share with you are still locked in the belly of my Dell. Tomorrow, maybe, and a few other interesting guest-posts. Watch out.

I did tell you I had nothing to say, right? I hope you had a nice day. I did. See you later.

Silence was published on June 10th, 2010, with the tags , , under the Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 2 comments on this article so far.

On Mail, Books and Names

Here are my preliminary observations on George Carlin’s famous book, Brain Droppings which I received today: It’s written in a way that makes each of the eccentric, penetrating and irreverent observations of the author very accessible on demand. I’ve just opened randomly to page 122, and here’s what I see under the title, NAME IT AS IT IS:

“The words Fire Department make it sound that they’re the ones starting the fires, doesn’t it? It should be called the “Extinguishing Department.” We don’t call the police the “Crime Department.” Also, the “Bomb Squad” sounds like a terrorist gang. The same is true for wrinkle cream. Doesn’t it sound like it causes wrinkles? And why would a doctor prescribe pain pills? I already have pain! I need relief pills!”

Classic Carlin! There are very many other topics and short sub-headings of this kind in the book where George Carlin takes on the many issues on religion, language, and almost everything under the sun. The comedian always had a fascinating take on the English language particularly, and its many inherent contradictions as a critical part of his act, which made me believe that if only he had talent for playwriting instead, he might have become another George Bernard Shaw who – being also Irish – also pushed the boundaries of acceptability, questioned dogmas and poked fun at the use of language.

These new books from Amazon are going to be my new companions for the next couple of days, rather than the very many stations on American television. On that, I should say that I’ve never had so many stations to choose from whenever I sit down idly in the living room to watch television. A few other books littering my room at the moment are Larry King’s My Remarkable Journey, Nancy Friday’s Woman on Top, Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, Igoni Barett’s From the Cave of Rotten Teeth, Kurt Vonnegut’s Bluebeard, VS Naipaul’s Miguel Street and The Mystic Masseur, and Chimamanda Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus which I never seemed to be able to read beyond the first page, quite unexplainably (little wonder that her Half of A Yellow Sun is my favourite of her works.)

I’ve always loved receiving packages in the mail, especially ones with my name on them – even if it’s not correctly spelt. When I got one today from UPS, the dispatcher looked at my last name again, she remarked, “How on earth do you pronounce your last name?” Then she went online immediately afterwards, and recorded my name as OLATABUSUN! Well, I should have paid more attention to her uncomfortable whimper while I tried to pronounce it to her! No, I won’t be changing the spelling of my last name anytime soon. Not before the Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger changes his; and his name is longer than mine.

On Mail, Books and Names was published on October 20th, 2009, with the tags , , , , , , , , , , , , under the Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 3 comments on this article so far.