The Male Spec-actor

Def. : one who looks on or watches |One who pretends, but secretly watches.

Welcome to 2022 on this blog were we still talk intellectual bullshit. Oh I’m kicking the year off with an intense topic. Should men not be involved in solving issues that women face?

You know I am here to collect your perspective so after reading, please leave a comment.

Ideas are started by individuals, and then further perpetuated by those (social masses) who agree with the individual. This is not to say the social mass was not thinking this all along, no, it is to say, someone made a point they agreed with all along, and it’s refreshing and releasing when someone does that. So you form/ join the social league.

So, can you take away an individual thought in a big idea? You can’t really. In huge social movements there exists individuals. We resonate with these individuals.

So, let’s agree.

Yes, there are problems. These problems are someone’s fault, we technically know who’s fault it is, but the aim is not to point fingers, because we know pointing fingers leads to some fingers being pointed back.

How do we solve the problem? This problem of men treating women certain ways that are wrong! How do we solve these socially constructed ideas about women either their looks, intelligent and their worth? I don’t know really, but I know including the people who are part of the problem is definitely a good start. Making statements that “they don’t have knowledge to understand” the problens, that won’t solve it. Instead it’s a fire being built by a group of people, and it’s not warming everyone up to new ideas/thinking.

I understand people who shut Asian/White people down when it comes to conversation about race as we note “they won’t understand the problem” I do it too really, I’m guilty, but being guilty though I don’t shut it down completely. I go back to throw a few jabs again to see if they understand, if they don’t I get off the ring and maybe wait I don’t know until when.

I have been a witness of so many ill events/actions caused by men unto women yet it doesn’t give me enough knowledge because I am not in the body, I am viewing it from the other side and that makes it complicated.

I can never be women, it’s hard to even imagine being one. I am guilty that even when I imagine being one, I childishly think of having breasts.

Everyone needs lecturing, of course men need to stop being spec-actors of the multiple issues occurring; Women on the other have to know they can’t come into that battle alone, without some “men” on their sides. Yes, but who are these “men”

My problem is I don’t know where I stand, I am a man, I am probably guilty of many inappropriate acts towards women, some aware of, others not, I just need to be put in a circle of men that need to be educated.

So ultimately here are some questions.

1. Can men, us be trusted to listen without reaction?
2. Are we dumb that we don’t understand women’s problems? Like are we thinking they don’t exist?
3. When the fuck are we going to fix “Black/Coloured people” issues? Why is the race issue always being pushed backwards
4. I’ve said too much

Remember leave your intellectual bullshit, I want to here your thoughts. A link that was shared to me. It was interesting to listen to

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmqq9_XTelM

Inherited Mumbo Jumbo

Let’s say for a moment I can admit that I am good at talking with women, something I oddly worked hard not to be when I was younger; Why, well because I didn’t want to be like my biological father who has apparently was very good with women, well the number of kids with different mothers he produced seem to be proof enough.

So just like a movie plot, I envitably put myself in a path I was avoiding. However there’s more fucking mumbo jumbo that seems to be (weird) & frustrates me.

In this blog I want to talk about the things we supposingly inherent without any dire knowledge, fucking nature/nurture situation right.

I never knew my father, he was rather busy putting his dick everywhere else than to come around check how his lookalike was doing; that’s the first thing that got on my nerves as  a kid, constantly being told that I looked like someone I didn’t know. People would literally look at me like a museum piece, in fascination, like “wow, you have his exact bone structure”. It seemed I inherent this man’s face, although I want to believe my face looks like my mothers, but whatever.

It turns out later I inherited a lot of things from this dude than I thought, things I thought were naturally my own desire, hell I still believe that, but the coincidence of it all fucked me up. Even the things that I inheritedly gained from my mother don’t make entire sense. My mother was apparently very good with maths and athletics (running) which I was naturally good at as well, in fact I loved it, and had no prior details that my mother was into it or good at it, naturally all my mothers kids attempted athletics in our school days, fucking weird, maybe it all that chasing she gave us to whoop us that became inherited.

I assumed math was just a thing I loved, it was natural to me. I’d spend days on end just studying it, so imagine my surprise learning later than my mom was also good in maths, again something she never really told me. In the maths department, I think my sister was the only one who kinda didn’t inherited the gift, sorry little sister at least you’re very good at accounting, which has numbers. Yeah, naturally my mother loves money, we all love money, but my mom is on her own level.

So how this post came about is that my friend Mlondi was laughing at me, I was telling him about a girl I liked, that I happened to have had the guts to kiss. He chose to change the whole subject and noted my “charming” ability with women, which I can admit I have, but not all of them, I’m very shy, that’s my kryptonite. However he continues to add that “bro, you were avoiding to be like your dad but look at you man, just a charmer”

He then goes “You thought you naturally loved martial arts too, but turns out it’s inherited from your father, you can’t avoid this shit”

Yeah, that’s the most messed up thing I heard a while back, the fact that my biological father was obsessed with not only climbing things but martial arts or anything related to karate; these things which I was growing up obsessed with, things that literally designed who I became right now.

That is fucked up right‼! Don’t get me wrong, in no way I am concluding that I am not my own person, fuck that, I know who I am, but that doesn’t mean the situation itself isn’t scary. I mean how many things do I believe I naturally like or love but no, it’s inherited?

We create our own fate, at least I believe that, most people put that faith in the many “Gods” that exists, and that’s fine too. We all should believe in different things, it’s what makes this whole living thing interesting.

I am in ponder though, really, how many things do I enjoy doing, love, gestures I make that were inherited that I don’t know about, is it even true or is it all just a coincidence?

What are your thoughts? Write me your weird shit, and let’s laugh about it.

Untold story of Nonkululeko (Freedom)

Freedom def: the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action. State of being free

Nonkululeko which loosely translates to Freedom is one of my successful drama works that I wrote and co-directed; When work is completed people often only see that, but never know the layers that built the work.

Let me share.

I guess for a long while I had been fed up about the education system or rather ideas brought about by education, I had just completed my thesis which took a long struggle but finished; I love school and knowledge but damn education sells unfruitful hope most times.

I was angry, but I’m an introvert at best, I can’t express my anger outward, I am in my element through art.

Then came two students of mine, there was a competition, a theatre work was needed

“Jigga can you help us”

Jigga is one of many names I have; I might be an introvert but I am a lunatic in my own manner. A blessing in disguise I said, we had 3 days to make the work.

What if Freedom was physical? That you can see it or touch it, what would it look like? What is freedom? I am not in the slightest a political person, politics frustrates me at best, in South Africa, it makes me mad, but on one hand I have a logical understanding, so I was trapped in between, people’s thoughts and my own thoughts.

People want freedom, but what does it look like? What does it mean to be free?

As writer you sometimes create from what you know, what you feel, what you’ve experienced. I am no different, I create from what resonates with me, it can’t be momentarily, it has to be something I want to unpack and understand.

And my deep loath for educational ideas was at its peak.

So, I spent what I can describe as sleepless night constructing, finally created these three generation black characters, who go out to rob the South African Reserve, not for cash, but for FREEDOM, they believe Freedom is being preserved there… hidden from the people.

What happens next is but a journey of these three characters learning that they were able to get “everything” from the reserve except the one thing they were looking for, FREEDOM!

Neither character could identify what is freedom, here was all the money in the country but it didn’t make them complete.

I don’t know!!

I am an academic, I am a creative artist first but an academic I am, however as academic I may be, education, perhaps through out the world still needs investigating or re_adjustment.

People have so much worth, but we are put in boxes that we need to be “educated” in order to be something, bullshit I say, but I’m an academic what I am saying sounds bias.

The system is crooked, look at me speaking like a conspiracy theorists[Lol]

I don’t have a solution, my undying solution is that people need access to knowledge, just knowledge, a lot of it, because we end you getting politicians selling people the idea of freedom without necessarily knowing what that really is; but who am I, just a lunatic with many names.

Nonkululeko has been performed various times across KZN, in 2020 I gave the script to a young man from DUT who I heard did justice to it.

First performers: Mncedisi Zulu, Kwanele Gwala and Xolani Malinga.

Co_director: Simphiwe Fiddy Ngcobo

The Race card II: What did you just say?

People are tired of race conversations; damn, I’m tired of race conversations, but I’m only tired because people take every little thing so seriously.

Some racial/racist things should really be laughed at. It’s only things were people are unfairly reaping benefits or causing harm that it should be taken seriously; other than that who really gives a fuck

“Did you die?”

If you didn’t, why does it matter; let that person be stupid. I really find humor in every racial stereotype that I can find, at most times I blatantly make the stereotype apparent and let us converse around it.

Mlondi my friend told me he got into a conversation were Chinese asked him why he was black, which he replied why do you guys have small eyes like this (imitating the eyes).

If you’re still going to cry like a little bitch when racial things/stereotypes/ non lethal/threatening offenses happen that concern race, then my friend there is a long road ahead.

This read will take quite long, get chips/nachos/tea/wine or whatever you freaking eat/drink in your place of comfort.

The least Racist person in the room.

Last month I drafted a writing that talked about race, I didn’t publish it; I thought it wasn’t a little immature, focused too much on self rather than looking at the bigger picture; However elements from that writing do appear in this, because I am looking at ‘Race’ in a sense. Conversations about race are always complicated aren’t there? More importantly lately racism. Who’s more racist? I think everyone is actually a little racist; either direct or indirect, if you can’t admit that then ‘my friend’ you need help.

As pre other writings I like making myself and my experiences as examples, this writing will be no different.

There has never been a time were I fail to mention the first person I ever had sex with was Indian.

Uhmm that’s a little bit racist right? Yeah kinda

What had triggered this writing? Well after vicariously experiencing a little ‘racism’ I began asking myself, friends and colleagues some questions; Perhaps the main question being: Should I be offended by every racist thing that happens?

Using a word I clearly did not know as a racial slur for a black person, someone next to me was insulted. I of course did not pick it up; because I wasn’t familiar with the word. I was a little bit confused so I then went to ask this question to everyone in my contact by phrasing it as follows.

Should as an African black person I be offended by the word Nigga?

The answer is as Chris Rock once said “not really”. I left the answer to the public and I got different answers some expected, others surprising.

1. I can’t relate to the nigga word cause I or my parents or my ancestors never got to be called that or disrespected like that.

For me as an African, kaffir is what would make me livid.

Kaffir is a racist term used in the Southern Parts of Africa to offend the black person. Unlike like nigga it’s really hard to take ownership of the word, and use to it to greet fellow black brothers and sisters, it somehow still holds sensitivity towards others.

Please read What’s up my Kaffirs, I wrote it a. long time ago. It will shed some light.

2. Every black person must be offended by the word. Racism anywhere in any form must offend us!

As a writer, my issue with the word nigga is that it has become an embodiment for the black racial slur… it’s the N-word; but honestly in context I don’t really relate to it. The word is famous because it’s American.

3. JC intent Also matters .(why did a person use a word ?) I am questioning in a non-English speaking country, the person might not know the connotation attached to the word ?I don’t know. You could swear at someone unintentionally in Mandarin I imagine ??

Intention behind the use of the word. As stated the word Nigga has been reformed in a sense by Black Americans, they have taken ownership of the word thus in a sense making it null void.

The problem again comes back to the fact that for other words, ownership might have not yet been taken, the use of that word opens up wounds; this is not to say nigga doesn’t open wounds, it does according to who uses it and in what manner.

We are all technically a little bit racist, and I think it’s okay to be a little bit racist; it’s the overachievers of racism that make the world an ill place to live in.

Does it not count as a little bit racist to be excited that you slept with someone outside your own race, it doesn’t matter if the feelings are real or not, that little excitement is kinda of racist.

I’ve heard people saying it’s racist for white people to say ‘I’m not racist, I got black friends’, yeah it’s kinda racist but black people use that line too, so why is it not considered racist?

This all comes back to the question of who’s more racist than the other or a question I posed “Can black people be racist?”

Uhmmm yeah of course, depending on the situation black people are hella racist. I have come to realize however that in their own space/country/community people really do tend to be racist/indifferent.

In your own country you feel a sense of belonging and ownership, so of course you tend to act indifferent to anyone who is not from there; So ultimately that is what creates this racist ideology.

I don’t have all the answers though, I just have questions.

If you have something to add, feel free to add, I like having these conversations as long as we find humour in them.

5 things I don’t like, in no order

In a journey to improve my writing, I am currently reading a book. There’ are currently two ideas that I’ve gotten from it to improve my writing; 1. Read! Read! Read. 2. Yes, write! write! write! So stupid yet so profound!

The title I chose is not really interesting; I tried to go for word play, make it fancy, but at the end I came to the conclusion ‘why be Illusive, just say as it is.

One particular exercise asks for one to write about things they dislike. I thought I’d take a jab at this one, it proved harder than I thought, not that I don’t dislike things, but I wanted to search for things I really feel like I don’t like. So, here is my short list of 5 things I don’t like.

1. To not know (Schrodinger’s Cat)

If you’re familiar with the Cat, Box and Poison experiment then you will know what I mean. I hate not knowing; this could be intellectual or relationship wise. There is a difference between not knowing because someone is being mysterious and it’s quite hot but then there’s just being an asshole. Intellectually I have a competitive side, which means if I am interested in something I work very hard to figure it out and know how to do it. I don’t like not knowing, especially in a field that I cherish

Relationship wise, I think its familiar with everyone; not knowing where you stand. I’ always make sure people know where they stand with me. Romantically and friendship wise. False hope is quite draining; it sucks the life out of a person. It is best to let people know facts, how they make you feel and how in turn they feel about you. There’s no person that I had a crush on in my life that doesn’t know. Perhaps maybe one when I was in high school were my confidence wasn’t as high, but now, everyone has to know where they stand.

2. Dirty Rooms

I am not saying, I’m the cleanest person, surely I’ve kicked some dirty under the rug a few times, but I love clean. The sight and smell of clean gives me a virtual subconscious orgasm. Honestly it does, goes through my whole body, only thing that ends up missing is the release, if I could I would. I use to have mild OCD, just mild, but it was enough to make me obsessed about a certain cleanness.

I’ve even explained that, sometimes I’d come back to a clean room, were my brother or lover cleaned it, but I’d do it again. It didn’t feel clean until I touched it.

3. Things with many holes in it (Trypophobia)

This thing began when I was young, it’s a classified phobia or medically recognized, I didn’t even know. It bothers me, I don’t know but I feel like I’ll vomit; there’s a lump that gets stuck in my throat, even now as I write I feel it. I’ve never told anyone about it because it’s weird

4. Female leads

I am about to sound Misogynistic, but honesty is my policy. I am not even sure if this counts as dislike since I have a few exceptions. However, I hate female leads, I don’t know why, I. just don’t like em.

Dolores (Westworld) and Annalise Keaton (HTGAWM) are the exception, other than them, I simply loathe female leads. I can recall many times were I stopped watching a series/movie/anime because it had a female lead. There are tons of great series/movies/anime with awesome female leads, but it’s just not for me.

5. Getting into fights

This is ironic; I love so many fighting styles, I’ve practiced so many forms, I mean so many. I’ve read and researched about so many. However, I hate fights, or rather getting into one. I don’t see any reason to fight, honestly I think it’s the effect of past family experiences. I never see a reason to fight, even in a situation were fighting is the only option
What a strange Zulu man I am right?!

One of the most stupid reasons I dislike fighting is the fear of murder. I have watched and personally practiced so many styles of fighting that I fear I know how to kill someone and in a fight I’d unintentionally commit murder.

You can’t wash murder off your hands. So I try my very best to talk my way out or walk away. This fighting doesn’t relate only to life or death situations but relationships as well. I’ choose to walk if there’s yelling or physical touching arguments.

These are 5 stupid things I dislike; I mean there are not stupid but there are 5.
There is bonus dislike, or maybe I should have just said 6 things I dislike, but 6 is such an even number.

6. Messi vs. Ronaldo debate
   Frankly this deserves its own blog. I dislike the Messi and C. Ronaldo arguments. I am one of few/many who believes each is good in their own way, even though I am a CR7 fan. There are certainly qualities Messi has that Ronaldo does not, and vice versa. I won’t get into it because my point is that I dislike the argument.

What’s your 5??

Why we all should apply for jobs we don’t qualify for?

It’s easy and probably honest to make the statement that they are people who are in jobs they don’t qualify for; a lot of various factors go it explaining how. It could be due to corruption or nepotism, good looks, race etc. It’s not all bad really because some people are there because they took an opportunity, others started an opportunity.

Before I go far, let me clear one thing on the side. We can’t all go into starting our own businesses, not that it’s impossible, but frankly some of us are not built as leaders; being a leader who can manage people takes something that most people don’t have; some people thrive better as followers and that’s okay, don’t judge; appreciate that skill and ability.

Now that is out the way, let’s get to the main topic; why we should all apply for jobs we don’t really qualify for?

I can’t really prove the next statement what I can say is I am making it as an artist. It’s no more in the arts that there is an existence of people who don’t really qualify to be there… please don’t take the words ‘qualify’ literal. I for one have worked with hundreds if not thousands of people, and I truly understand the existence of natural ability when it comes to arts, especially performance arts; individuals who just get it and they are great at it.

Qualify for the Arts means people who don’t necessarily work hard to be there, individuals who are there because as explained earlier they knew someone or they are just pretty. Guys let’s never escape that truth… some people are in there because they look beautiful. It’s okay, well maybe.

In the arts we have people with law degrees, science, biology, psychology etc etc. Then you have the artist who put a whole lot of years in the craft doing who knows what… well I have something to say to my fellow artists.. get the fuck up and apply for a marketing job, science anything really, you’re an actor, a performer…

Okay let me clear that out in better language.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been in a position I didn’t necessarily belong in; I have been in politics, and was in favor to be a leader in the field and I don’t even like politics; the people in there however loved me.

I have worked at a bank, sort of, yes, I am an artist; and I’ve been in various types of marketing jobs. None of these jobs I qualify for, what I did was, there was an advertisement and I applied, I told them what I am good at and how it fits to what they are looking for.

It’s strange isn’t it, not really, people admire and are attracted to those with the right energy, people who know what they really want; it’s an attractive facet to have, I certainly find it attractive, even in women.

My friend, Mlondi in desperate times, desperate adventurous times really; He once applied to be a maths tutor, the man knows nothing about maths really, he said so himself, however he was willing to learn along the way.

There he was in front of maths board members having been selected as an interview candidate. My friend tells me he sat there convincing these guys that he was the guy they were looking for, that he has been tutoring for years now, he understands the workings of it all, the system of learning. He told no lies, all he was doing was hype his ability, and use the right energy.

The board members laughed, they deliberated, they were all in agreement that this man was the right guy for the job.

Of course he wasn’t taken, however not because of lack of trying. Just politics.

Sounds like motivational bullshit doesn’t it? Well it does, but it is as truthful as it can be. There are not many jobs out there, but perhaps there are, it’s just you don’t think you belong in it; either you believe it’s below you or above you. You have to understand your ability.

I’ve taken jobs were I was in a hot costume, had to run the whole day during comrades marathon giving strangers hi 5s…tell you what, one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. After a while in that job I got promoted.

My friend Sanele who has a drama degree was a bank consultant, can you believe that? I trust this man, but not with my money?? I can tell you that never!!! Yet he worked to convince people that their money was save with him and good at it too, bravo arts

My point is, if their looking for a PHD, convince them why you with a high school certificate are much better suited for the job. If their looking for a science guy, convince them that with your drama dance degree you can be a better suite for the position.

It’s far fetched I know, not all positions you will get really. However here is what you will get, a response that tells you how to be better, a response that can offer you a difference position because damn you know your way with words etc.

As always I am on my intellectual bullshit, but you know what? it’s gotten me pretty, pretty, pretty far

Moving Out of Home.

They say when you are 18 you should move out of your parents’ house. Let me drop a huge laugh and ask, and go where? Ngiyephi bakwethu??

 

Some transitions are made to look easier in movies then there are in real life. Moving Out of your parents’ house or home requires certain conditions, some of us are not attuned to. Unfortunately, the biggest one among them is race, but I don’t want to make this a race thing, I want to make it a human thing, because we are certainly in times were everyone suffers the same fate.

 

Primarily this writing will use my surroundings as an example; surroundings of course refers to people I know, friends and family (it’s weird to separate like that, as if friends and family don’t count as people I know), anyway, yes.

 

I am in my late 20’s might as well say, early 30s since I am a year away from entering my Ted Mosby years. Unlike Ted Mosby, I don’t live in an apartment, I still unfortunately live with my parents, in a way. I do have a ‘job’ that pays the rent, I know however that if times were to get rough, I still have a roof and a “bed” waiting for me back at home; what I basically mean is that I haven’t moved out my parent’s house.

 

I was one of those adamant people growing up, I told myself by 25 I will have my own apartment at least. Uhmmmm yeah pipe dream that was…hahaha.

 

I know a lot of my friends and acquaintances who technically still live at home, perhaps it’s the artistic life we chose? Uhmm not necessarily; I know people who are not artist who still technically live at home.

 

So, my strange question still remains, when does one move out of home? It’s likely that when one gets married they should definitely move out; uhmm well I know some people who are married but have built homes just a few steps away from their mom’s house, worse some still use the room they grew up in to live with their wife or fiancé.

 

So, we are back here, the question still remains, when is someone supposed to move out of their parent’s house? In my experience, now let me quickly bring race back in here; as a black person, it seems there is no time to move out, especially if you are not well off (monied). If you are broke and at home y’all broke, where are you gonna move to man? My brother and cousins have a number of kids but still live with their mom.

 

So, this concept of at 18 we must leave our parent’s house is ludacris!!! It really is, at 18 I just finished high school, and about to go struggle at varsity for how many long years, lord knows, and during vacation where exactly am I supposed to go? Home, duh. I guess moving out perhaps is not literal, to an extent.

 

I want to move out of my parent’s house, I do. I want to make my own rules, I want to have crazy wild sex with my partner, I want to comeback at my own time and want to sit quietly; I simply can’t afford it yet, that’s possibly kinda my fault or the systems fault, well frankly, I am tired of blaming the system now.

 

The truth though is I never imagined being at the age that I am in, I would still kind of be living at my parent’s house; I definitely don’t want to reach old age still doing that; I want my kids to visit grandma and comeback home with stories rather than being raised by grandma; geez my mom needs rest too, she raised me and my siblings all by herself, give the girl a break.

 

Anyway, this moving out business is complicated; we got degrees yet there sit under our mattress, same mattress we had so many dreams on, dreams of getting them degrees.

 

Well f&#k me twice, ain’t that a bitch.

 

What’s your comment? If you got insight please do share. Remember to stay safe.