Journalism has changed a lot since I was a boy. Or at least my understanding of journalism has changed a lot.
When I was at school, some or other teacher had sat us down and explained that it was the role of a journalist simply to report the news. A good journalist would offer up the facts, leaving his or her own opinions, biases, and prejudices on one side, and let the reader or watcher draw their own conclusions and form their own opinions based on those facts.
I’m starting to get into the swing of things. For the last few weeks, I’ve struggled to come up with ideas for things I really wanted to write about. This week I turned the corner. I have the answer. Structure. Planning. Organisation. Continue reading →
I wasn’t going to post today. I wasn’t being lazy or anything; it was the youngest 23thorn’s birthday party. Two months after her birthday. She’d had a family party (at full strength, we can muster about 20 people), and then we went away, so we thought we’d get away without a school party, but never underestimate the complexity of the average four-year-old’s social life.Promises had been made on the playground. People had been blacklisted. A party there would be.
Picture the scene. You’re in Cape Town, one of South Africa’s tourist hotspots. It’s a beautiful sunny day, perfect for a daytrip. So you decide to go here;
Or you could just stay in the hotel and watch TV.
That’s Cape Point, Africa’s southernmost point. It’s a dramatic finger of rock stretching out into the sea. It’s where the Indian Ocean meets the Atlantic. And it’s well worth seeing. So you pack up your hire car with a few tasty snacks for the road and set off. Continue reading →
If I say the word “monkey” to you, a whole bunch of associations are sure to be triggered. First of all, you will picture a cheeky little scamp, a charming, miniature man-beast who lives to laugh and play, swinging through the trees playing practical jokes on his companions and eating bananas. If you’ve spent a bit of time in zoos, you might also picture a certain amount of self-abuse and poo flinging. And this is how you will picture his home;
There are few things in this world quite as cool as going on a night-drive in the bush. You bundle into an open vehicle with hand-held spotlights and set off into a world completely different to the one you left as the sun went down.
If you pay a little extra for the premium package, your hosts might even take you out in a vehicle with a door.
I’m going to be cheating today. Kinda. I’ve signed up for a local news-satire site called ZaNews to try and put myself out there a little. Because at some stage, I’m hoping someone will pay me for some of this, so that I can claim to be a writer and look windswept and interesting at parties.
This? Oh, it’s just a little piece I wrote on public sanitation. Care to dance?
When I first started this blog every day thing, I wrote down a list of potential topics in case I ran out of ideas. I’ve never looked at it. But on that list, tucked away toward the end, I had written five words; “dance like a white man”. It was my son’s fault.
This movie was based on my childhood. But the town only banned dancing after I moved in.
One month down. I am busy doing a hundred posts in a hundred days, and I have discovered something quite interesting, in an “Oops!” kind of way. I am not alone. Writing a hundred posts in a hundred days is about as interesting and challenging as being left handed. And about as worthy of applause. Continue reading →
Something really cool happened the other night. Mrs 23thorns and I were sitting outside having a glass of wine on the stoep (patio). The stoep has a roof over it, and we had the lights on, but the garden was almost in darkness. All of a sudden, two enormous, tawny wings spread out on either side of her head, framing her like some sort of Celtic nature goddess with glasses on.