Free-range dreggs..

Hello dear readers! My humblest apologies for the delay in writing, and I hope to make it up to you all over the course of this year. So, into the fray we go!

The subject of today’s blog is free-range eggs.

These eggs have been the ticket to guilt-free breakfasts since they introduced the concept. “Chickens haven’t been running around the farmyard, being chased by a jovial sheepdog and happily gathering grain from the farmer’s daughter?! This is an outrage!” exclaimed us all. For had we been mindful of battery chickens pumping out eggs like a dodgy cement-mixer, our morning meals may have been somewhat tainted.

And so now we have the option. Grain-fed or Free-range (Or Jumbo!? I don’t know what this implies, other than there are some chickens on the farm who have decided that their produce is slightly more extraordinary than that of the others, and they demand the recognition. Well, it’s either that or some seriously big chickens trying to fit in. I don’t trust the Jumbo-style. It makes me think of elephants, and I don’t like thinking I’m eating elephants). We all feel much better by choosing the Free-range boxes. “Darling, did you buy the Free-range eggs today?”

“Why yes, darling, I did.”

“Good show! None of those AWFUL grain-fed ones. I can’t stand cruelty to animals! Pass the foie gras...”

So that’s all fine, we all like to buy free-range because then we are buying happy eggs from happy chickens. And there’s nothing better than a happy chicken. Apparently studies show that the free-range eggs are also more nutritious than other eggs, so there is even more to crow about. But I still have an issue with these eggs. One that was brought to my attention by my brother only four days ago. One that makes me question modern society and all that has come to pass. History itself shakes in the processing of this dilemma. Humanity quivers and the great minds collapse into confusion and dysentery. What is the question, you wonder? It is a simple one, yet still unanswered:

Why are free-range eggs always covered in bits of poo?

Ok, we get it, they are all organic and stuff (and by talking about organic produce the word ‘poo’ is part and parcel with agriculture) but do we need to know that as we tentatively turn the egg so that when it cracks on the edge of the frying pan no flecks of ‘organic’ make it into the omelette? What’s happening at the Chicken Produce Cleanification & Quality department? Some bright spark sitting there saying, “Hold on! This one’s still got some poo on it! Should I ask Mr. Griffiths whether or not I should send it through? You know what, it’s probably fine. They’ll just think the poo is chocolate or something.” It’s not chocolate! We know it’s poo! I certainly hope it’s not price by weight, because there is no way I’m paying for extra poo.

Even though I have written all this, I will still eat free-range eggs. It seems sad that in my efforts to support the well-being of chickens all around the country, I am forced to put up with their crap. But I guess since we eat these delicious fowls, it’s a small way for the chickens to get even..

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr

p.s. email me ideas for what you want blogged about @ andrew@kerr.za.net

Solving Streep..

Hello all!

This is a quick podcast announcement: Episode 3 (of 4) is up and you can download it here http://www.archive.org/details/WestwoodAndKerrSolveLifeEpisode3 It is probably my favourite so far.

Also, I would like to direct your attention to the Brothers Streep, who have recently brought out a new album! Check it out at www.brothersstreep.com for they are the business..

Thats all for now. Will resume normal bloggage when I get a mo!

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr

Podcasts & Ponds..

Hello all,

My goodness its been a while since I last assaulted your minds with my thoughts! I have two main functions in mind for this little bloglette. The first is to remind you all that my good friend Jeremy and I have 2 podcasts out (and a pilot). These can be found here:

Westwood & Kerr Solve Life Pilot Episode: http://www.archive.org/details/WestwoodAndKerrSolveLifePilot

Westwood & Kerr Solve Life Episode 1: http://www.archive.org/details/WestwoodAndKerrSolveLifeEpisode1

Westwood & Kerr Solve Life Episode 2: http://www.archive.org/details/WestwoodAndKerrSolveLifeEpisode2

I assure you that episode three will be forthcoming momentarily, so have no fear!

The second function is far more subtle. As I cast my eyes through the dusty windows of my office, and as the sun rises in the East over the bustling hub that is Bellville, I look to the mountains in the distance. How lovely they are, resplendent in their morning grandeur. Shards of light cut strips into the shadows that play along their contours, feelings of adventure stretch across the landscape and call out to me, and the great peaks assert their dislike of the surrounding low-lying areas by straining up, up and up towards... well, towards the clouds.

Ever since five youthful water molecules decided that they would explore further the long held belief, “If God had meant us to fly, he would have given us the capability of getting quite hot and then suddenly and inexplicably vaporizing”, it has been the trend of small ponds and spilt slush puppies to break free from their earthly bonds and give up their physical well-being for a far more ethereal aesthetic. This became incredibly popular all over the world, and even though it started as a protest against the oppression of gravity and the lack of freedom, it soon became popular for all the molecules decided to hang about in the air together. Clouds are just the product of a badly organized revolution.

One of the original five, Ralph, saw this as an opportunity for success, and slowly started to gather himself some friends from other clouds. His followers grew slowly at first and then, on a chance trip over some Amazonian forests, they increased dramatically. Ralph appointed generals to manage the various regiments in his, now substantial, cloud army. They would send out scout parties in order to plot their course. Most of the scouts never came back, but at least they could quickly triangulate the wind direction as they slowly drifted away. Soon Ralph had so much power he decided to make himself king.

With his kingship he introduced a few new policies, such as the cryogenic freezing of older members of the community, and extreme power generation. To be honest, the reaction was mixed. When the four other founding revolutionaries discovered that Ralph had given up his ideals for authority and begun his reign, they decided to plummet back to earth, taking some of their friends with them.

And this is still the situation we have today. Ralph has to continually raise up new recruits to join him in his airy kingdom, as they tend to get sick of him ordering everyone around after a while. He sometimes lashes out when they need to discharge their capacitors, and frequent trips have to be made to drop all their pensioners off at the poles. After having a nasty scrape with a cactus in the Sahara Green Plains, Ralph vowed never to return there again. And as for the recent volcanic-ash intruder, Ralph sees it as no threat to his imperial might!

In short, those pretty pictures showing the water cycle which you learnt in primary school leave out the bitter and sordid past which lead to its creation, as well as the tyranny under which it currently resides. Which side will you choose? Well, you can either join the cheers of "All hail King Ralph!", or tell him to fog off..

Toodle-pip,

andrewthekerr

Westwood & Kerr Solve Life, the beginning..

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so excited to announce that my friend, the one and only Jeremy Paul Brigadier Wilberforce Westwood, and I have started recording a podcast. Here, for your enlightenment and entertainment, is the link to the Pilot of the series aptly named: "Westwood & Kerr Solve Life".

I do hope you enjoy, and share with anyone who has never had the delight of listening to two people having a good old lol (to use the technical term).

You can find it here:

http://www.archive.org/details/WestwoodAndKerrSolveLifePilot

Email comments, entries or suggestions to wesolvelife@gmail.com

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr

Evasive Action..

Let's be honest, we all know that South Africa is not the safest of places. Now don't worry, faithful readers, I'm not about to go on a rant about crime and pessimism, but one must not be naive to assume that one is immune to thievery and hijackery-type antics. But as South Africans we grow accustomed to this sort of thing, and in some cases de-sensitized. We learn to accept that this land has it's dangers, and we compensate by preparing for them and generally toughening up.

However, recent events and newspaper clippings are telling of stories from the deep. Whispers and mutterings riddle the conversations of people having coffee in boutiques by the seaside. The air flows uneasily over roof racks, and large quantities of scraggly individuals are popping up here and there, looking forlorn for some reason. Some speculate that this is due to the unavailability of certain hallucinogenic pharmaceuticals at the moment, but I reckon it's got more to do with the shark attacks.

So now, as Cape Tonians, we find ourselves unable to find safety on land or on sea. Where should we go? The air?! HA! I laugh in the face of our oppressors, and call for a revolution. Friends, our action needs to be swift and just. Robbers hold no respect for placards. Sharks are impervious to petitions. We must fight force with force! And this is where the Andrew I Kerr Patented Shark Slash Robber Protection Scheme (TM) takes it's full effect. I advise you to heed my call, and learn the following defenses off by heart:

Sharks and Robbers are essentially the same thing. They both want something from you, they strike unexpectedly, and they have many rows of razor-sharp teeth. Since this is the case, we can treat them the same, and thereby defend ourselves from them in the same way.

Step 1: Punch the shark/robber on the nose, and it will completely disorientate them.
This is always the first thing to do. Once they are disorientated, you will have not only the physical upper hand, but also an emotional advantage. Nobody likes being punched on the nose. For man or beast, it's highly embarrassing!

Step 2: If your assailant has still managed to grab hold of a limb, even after the punching tactic, it is always best not to wriggle, as this often angers them. Instead, one should play dead for a bit, and then Mace them in the face. (Use Mace-spray for the robber, but for better results with a shark you may want to wield an actual mace.)

Step 3: If the worst comes to the worst, just hand over whatever they want. It may cost you an arm and a leg, but you can always replaces things from second hand shops. Remember to always ask for your SIM card back because robber don't really use them, and sharks will already have them as they are incredibly tech-savvy..

Remember kids, sharks and robbers can smell fear, so it's also a good idea to always wear copious amounts of perfume or aftershave if you're going to be walking the streets at night, or having a quiet surf. "Cover the smell, as it will repel!"

You have been warned. (Note: These tactics are still in a vigorous testing phase, and are subject to lucky get-aways..)

Toodle-pip,
andrewiconkerr

Captain Shazam and the Mysterious Desert..

Here is a short story for you all the enjoy..

Captain Shazam looked over his shoulder. Behind him, the oasis where he had been hiding out for two weeks lay in chaos. Kitchen appliances and power tools littered the ground as smoke rose gently from the craters in which they lay. Small fires were springing up, soon to engulf the palm trees and half-eaten coconuts that lay strewn around the area. The sand beneath his feet was hot. Just the way he liked it. The Captain of slight build, about five and a half feet tall. He wasn't much to look at, but if you were to look at him you would see why his superiors had decided to make him a captain. Apart from being incredibly strong, he had the eyes of a wolf. Some had rumoured that he had once actually met a wolf, and that they had gotten along quite well. He turned and faced west, and as he did so a fridge landed three feet away from him, exploding on impact and flinging him through the air and over the edge of the dune. After descending the other side of the dune, in a manner not completely dissimilar to that of a slinky falling down a flight of stairs, Captain Shazam landed in a crumpled heap, his face and arms buried deep into the sand.

"You've never had any style, Keith" said a voice from somewhere above him. He felt the person kick him in the kidneys before clutching the shirt on his back tightly, and wrenching him out. Hurriedly wiping the sand from his eyes to see his would-be assailant or friend, Captain Shazam let out a roar of familiarity and hatred.

"Hazardous Withers, you slimy backstabber!" Using his good arm, after a brief moment of confusion and forgetfulness as to which was his good arm, he lunged at the man who stood before him. To most people, this would not have seemed like a good idea, but Shazam wasn't thinking straight. Hazardous was a strapping 7ft tall giant. His head was the size of a shield, his chest like that of a gorilla, and feet like those big, iron things that you tie ships to on the side of the docks, only slightly more proportionate to the rest of his body. But the scariest feature of Dr. Withers was his innate ability to answer rhetorical questions. Withers deflected Shazam, with the finesse of a mountain rerouting a small, commercial jet. Yet again the captain found himself flat on the burning floor, only this time he was face up.

Getting to his feet and picking up a nearby toaster, Captain Shazam brandished it dangerously at Hazardous Withers in an attempt to intimidate him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he asked, immediately regretting it.
"Well, I just picked you up out of the dune, after giving you a well-deserved boot, and now I'm standing here listening to someone wielding a device that took full advantage of the marketing potential in the world's latest best idea."
The Captain wasn't going to let Hazardous dominate the conversation like he used to back in fishing school.
"It's all very well you pitching up in the middle of the Sahara, which frankly is surprising on it's own, to then kick me and help me to my feet! But the worst of it all, do you know what the worst of it all is?" He asked, and then seeing the look on Hazardous' face he quickly interjected, "The worst is that you didn't remember my birthday last year!"
The toaster bounced off Hazardous' face like a poorly-timed compliment to a goth.

"No, I don't want to talk about it." Captain Shazam was walking just ahead of Hazardous, refusing to engage his reluctant companion in conversation. Just for fun, every few minutes he would turn around, kick sand at the knees of the doctor, and then run ahead in a brief moment of glee. Shazam didn't care. Hazardous Withers was the only person in the world who referred to him by his nickname from boarding school. It's not even as though his real first name was Keith. The honest truth was that it was Quiche, and Hazardous had had a terrible lisp throughout his youth. All those frustrations were building up again, especially the fact that he had missed his birthday, a crime almost punishable by death where the captain came from. He looked up at the sky. The sun crawled slowly toward the horizon. He liked how sneaky the sun was. With the patience of a broken clock, that great, fiery ball of gas bided it's time until it was millimeters from the edge, before fanning out in a brilliant display. The sun setting always made him think of fried eggs. And as the yolk spread over the horizon, he remembered that he was hungry.
"Oyi! Hazardous! You don't have anything to ea-" said Captain Shazam, just before the sand beneath him disappeared.

Down into the depths of the desert he fell, through what seemed to be some sort of sand tunnel. (I would like to point out that it is easy for the reader to poke holes in this description, saying things like, "It's not descriptive enough! I mean, how are we supposed to know what a sand tunnel looks like if it hasn't been properly described?!" and to those people I'd like to say, "Get some bloody imagination!"). When he realised that he was having to take breaths to maintain his screaming, Captain Shazam decided to man up and just wait it out. Before long he landed on something that seemed to have been strategically placed there for the very purpose of catching someone falling out of a hole above it. Even Shazam thought this was fortunate. On closer inspection he discovered that it was a mattress, queen sized no less, with the base of the bed to go with it. A few seconds later, Hazardous Withers landed beside him. It appeared that he had been chuckling all the way down and was now in high spirits. They both had a look around. The bed on which they lay seemed to be bathed in light, whereas all else was in darkness. After performing a brief analysis of their situation, taking into account possible dangers and unexpected calamities, they decided to have a sleep.

Light flooded their minds, and soon after that their eyes. Scrambling to their feet, they wearily looked around them. They were completely surrounded by appliances. Fridges formed the primary offence, with angle-grinders, kettles and a variety of other smaller self-propelled utensils filling up the gaps. This gave Shazam and Withers quite a shock, but their captors still seemed expectedly inanimate. Breathing a sigh of relief, Captain Shazam turned around to pick up his Shazam Super Socks, and found himself face to face with a lazercutter.
"Don't move!" said Hazardous. Shazam knew that tone of voice. It was the sort of tone that insinuated that one of the doctor's experiments had gone almost to plan but with one fatal flaw that was probably causing the reason for that tone of voice.

"What's going on? What have you done, Haz?!" said Shazam, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
"I may or may not have invented a method of animating inanimate objects. But they only seem to move when no-one is actually looking at them. The evil tendencies they seem to be showing, however, were fully intended." said Hazardous.
"Well that's just splendid!" exclaimed Shazam, "What were you thinking?"
"Well, I was.." Withers continued explaining in full detail what he had been thinking at the time, but Shazam was not paying attention. He had been distracted by a note that was stuck to one of the fridge's doors, held in place by a magnet in the shape of a Capatain Shazam's logo. Reaching forward, making sure that Hazardous was watching all the appliances behind him, he grabbed the note. He also grabbed the fridge magnet, as he thought it would be a nice memento if he made it out of this escapade alive.

"Right! It's time we got out of here, before someone loses their cool" mused Captain Shazam, keeping his beady eyes on an over-sized freezer. "I'll take the one's over here, and you take the one's over there." Staring straight ahead of him, Shazam braced himself before screaming his signature war-cry and charging at the objects before him. An intense battle ensued, with the Captain fighting all manner of electrical beasts. But soon his vigour subsided somewhat, and in a slow and awkward few seconds, he realised that they weren't fighting back. No sound was coming from the behind him, where he had left Hazardous to fight his own battle. The reason for this eerie quiet soon became apparent to him.

Hazardous was standing in a huddle of microwaves, holding an incredibly large mutliplug in his hand...unplugged.
"You're an arse" said Shazam. That was all he said to Hazardous for the rest of the week. After that, he thought that he should probably stop sulking and actually get out of there. Stacking all the appliances on top of each other, they created a vast white and silver tower. Upwards it stretched, higher and higher, glinting in the light that was still emanating from somewhere above them. After two days of intense balancing and near-death experiences, they reached the top.

The sand beneath his feet was hot. Just the way he liked it..

[To be continued, if I can be bothered.]

Toodle-pip,
andrewiconkerr

Pain or Poetry?..

Hello all. Here is a link to my handy new blog post on the Streep website. I hope you enjoy it.

http://www.brothersstreep.com/blog/94/Pain-or-Poetry---

Toodle-pip,

andrewiconkerr