Apocalypse

I didn't really buy into the Mayan apocalypse, seemed like a long shot... unlike modern day doomsday prophesies; "Petrol will be at R10 a litre by 2012....", "... JZ will be relelected...", "...your internet connection will soon die, for no apparent reason".

In doomsday theorizing, it seems we have twin axes; scale of disaster vs accuracy.  The Mayans certainly went all in on "Total world destruction", which is more catchy than "A tank of petrol will cost you R600 in 2012...".

Then who are these prudent, present day, petrol-price prophets?  Think tanks, government agencies, the press?  If they included a reference to an ancient tribe that was fond of angular buildings, would we take them more seriously?  Would the 9Gag world take hold of the, this time certain, disaster or would they all be at the petrol station filling up.

I've just noticed my work email inbox is at 19129 emails... I wonder if Microsoft will be able to handle the load at 21120?  Or will it be the end of my Outlook?  Outlook Apocalypse 2012.... coming soon to theaters "He never backed up".

Context

In the last days of our old company, our boss brought a guy in to try and rescue the administrative and leadership vacuum that existed.  His favourite advice was "Context, context, context".

Context is indeed a crucial lense through which life must be viewed.  For instance... imagine yourself hiking along the Transkei coast, sun baking down but you're kept cool by a soothing sea breeze, blowing over your unwashed, salty skin.  You reach for your water bottle, sip its refreshing contents, brush your brow and soak in the sandy beauty around you.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim... "look everyone, a cute crab, at home in its natural environment".  A crowd gathers and observes the crustacean.

Scenario two...

You get home late'ish one night, after a visit to the Summer Camp site.  You missed supper... the Chicken and Pepperdew sandwich you ate at 8pm didn't do its job and you're scavenging for something to eat.  You find a packet of two minute noodles, and while they're cooking you find yourself lying on the couch.

You're lying still, but you can hear the couch creaking.  You notice but ignore it.  Minutes later, the creaking noise happens again, you are now  confused, having moved from a sub conscious awareness, to a front of mind curiosity.  You stand up... and freeze, mortified.

As if in a horror movie, you see a large set of legs, creeping slowly into the light over the bean bag.  You panic, you wonder how a tarantula got into South Africa, and then into your flat.  You reassess, you notice its more crab like, less spider like.  You panic again - crabs are just as bad as spiders (OUT OF CONTEXT).

Calm returns, you arm yourself with a broom, rearrange the furniture and evict your unwelcome housemate.

Sugar

Other than the presence of pets, working from a home brings you into contact with some unusual visitors.  A gent, John I think, arrived to tune the piano late last week.  I soon realized that any productive potential my day had would perish if John had his way and so I quickly offered to make him a cup of coffee, before I dashed back to my burrow.

He digressed into his coffee drinking habits, and then stumbled when he asked for 3 and a half spoons of sugar.  It's a strange thing, sugar.  Somehow sweet coffee has become socially unacceptable, and heaven forbid you prefer anything more than 2 spoons and milk - which is sort of the Toyota Corrola of coffee preference.

I say, stand up o ye' with a sweet tooth.  Hold high the sugar spoon as you ladle free will into your mug.  As a member of the no-sugar elite, I will stand with you in our shared love of coffee.