Dark Spirits
31 May, 2009 | 16 comments | Category: I.dentity, Senduq- Semhal, madness!, nostalgia.personal, prose.tales, thinking...
by Semhal
My parents and siblings have had more effect on my development as an individual than any other experiences in my life. My mother’s stoicism and generosity & my father’s devotion to his work and to his family have allowed me to view the world in a way that I would scarcely dare.
My father’s sacrifices and sufferings especially stimulate me to wake up every morning with a positive spirit. Although my father never had the opportunity to go to college, he has always had the wisdom to understand the workings of the Universe. When no one else knew how I felt, and when I can’t foist my distress on my friends … you know one of those days where practically nothing happens your way and you feel overwhelmingly discouraged or betrayed, he understood the reasons.
“This is what the world sometimes is… dark spirits …but you should never let it make you bitter or depressed ” he says. He told me how Mother Theresa suffered from this for decades of her life. When I have my dark spirit days, I am obsessively agitated, restless, impatient, mean and I spend too much money shopping…oh the lengths I used to go to resist the calls of my dark spirits! These obsessions are often born out of avoidance. Whenever there is something else looming that I don’t want to think about or deal with or don’t know the answer of, I sink in to my obsessions: I feed them and cloth them without understanding their purpose, cause or origin.
It is my father who helped me understand that my dark spirits are the hammers that shape me …they are what make me who I am. Without them, I cannot understand and appreciate the joy of living. He says the only way you can overcome life’s darkness is through love, forgiveness, and hope. These are things you could give and share for free and repeatedly. Although they may not diminish your pain all the way, they will surely bring you a sense of its value.
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. – Kahlil Gibran
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Words & Incense
13 April, 2009 | 23 comments | Category: for.the.love.of.words!, peace & conflict, prose.tales
via getthebubbles @ flickr
by Sofi, a thinker, word artist, a lover of books, dialogue & people
Words are like incense. Underneath their crude obvious delights of fragrance and effect are hidden… Incense and words, full of mystifying aromas, used in counteracting the unpleasant, assaulting the senses, easing pious souls and amusing the masses. Like incense that has just been put on a burner words too rise slowly threatening to fill up the room. It’s funny how, though one stands at a distance, one always smells the exotic aroma before the smoke spreads. While examining them suspiciously at a distance, words too, always manage to reach me and manifest their effect. I constantly feel their assault on my senses – bitter sweet but powerful all the same. I thought of people before me, this must have been how it felt like: the thick presence of words washing down dry throats and heating up dull blood in exposed veins. Shouted words shaking up beings too afraid to hope, too afraid to think. Whispered words and confessions, breaking insecurities away. Written words, breathing light and feeling up voids within. But unlike incense, words last trapped in space (if enough was said, wouldn’t space have been filled to the brim?) Words are fascinating. It doesn’t stop with mending and breaking, there is travel involved! Haven’t those that belonged to revolutionary leaders, unrelenting lovers, visionary thinkers and skilled writers boiled my very own blood and prickled my senses ages after having been uttered? So words must time-travel, very much unlike anything.
The history of uttered words tells stories so varied yet adorned with the crown of powerfulness. The likes of Churchill won wars through words, the likes of Shakespeare worded life, death and all things in between. Uttered words mobilized masses, founded cities, and awakened decaying minds at the city gates; and at threshing floors and kitchen tables words strengthened feeble hearts, cultivated identities and straightened wrinkled thoughts. Doesn’t the whole of humanity bear witness to the therapeutical outlets of inexpressible groans in poems read and songs heard, in prayers chanted and rallies marched?
As strong as I feel words, I have come to believe their unbearably loud absence. I feel as if too much was unsaid and enough was not meant . Too many words hang uttered but unreceived in space…the “mis-said”, the “too late said” and the ”unsaid”, too weak to wash away tear stains and heal defeated ears, restlessly lie trapped unable to reach their destination. Words uttered are blissfully present in my here and now making me taller and bolder; imparting wisdom, hope, faith, laughter and love… but what of those that lie unheard, ”unwhispered”? If the good Lord sets loose all the unsaid words trapped in rotting crosses or flowing tears (and certainly in moments lost, rules set and caves unexplored), would more dead-men-walking awaken? Would fear and timidity and the thorny fences of pretension burn away? Actions have spoken louder since utterance was born but too little was said of them… if enough was told, wouldn’t legacies outlast lives already lived and influence those yet to be? A wise man once wondered how history would have unfolded had someone befriended young Hitler walking down the streets of Vienna. I too wonder, with the abundance of words, could cruelty have been out-saturated, word-diluted “wordiluted” to its very absence? I wonder, would lukewarmness be “worded” to passion? Would what my people taught me saying “silence is golden” be finally broken giving birth to freer souls and love fed aspirants bold enough to embrace change?
I dream of days when indifference, injustice and the cruel grip of silence would have to make room for uttered words.
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Let’s vote off the Cravat!
27 March, 2009 | 32 comments | Category: Fashion, thinking...
SenduQians,
Thank you for having me, and for readying yourselves to reading my, at times, ridiculous and nonsensical rambles. It will sound, or rather, read a bit crude; but I’ll say what I feel and mean what I say. A bit about me, I am a 20something ethioafrican. I hate the norm; not particularly ‘normal people’, but confirming to normality. That’s not to say I’m revolutionary or out of ordinary, not in the sense of a 21st century Fidel Castro anyway, but I do admire people who stand up for their beliefs, and yes sometimes tell people to go to hell if they see it fit. In true senduQ fashion, I like ideas that burst out of the box. I have an interest in politics, religion, society, science and more… how can you have enough of anything? and I don’t mean material possessions. I detest extravaganza and preposterous pretension. ~ Nani
I may be alone in this vote, or many of you have thought about it but have simply ignored it, or accepted it to be what’s normal, what everyone is supposed to do, what is most conventional. But I see no use for it! I mean it’s just hanging there and it has absolutely no use whatsoever! It makes your neck look ‘distinguished’ and gives you “class”, they say. I say it looks like you were trying to chock yourself unsuccessfully and forgot to finish the job in your hurry to get to work! Seriously, have you seen older men wearing them? They should be forbidden from wearing them because it makes the un-finished chocking thoroughly unsettling… unsettling for lack of a better word! I mean honestly, what is the use??? It’s not part of the shirt, or coat. You don’t need it to wipe your face or can’t use it as napkin; it’s simply a piece of cloth that is longer than it is wide, much longer than it is wide actually, I’d guess it’s a few centimeters wide to a meter and a quarter long … and is unbelievably expensive, sometimes more expensive than my whole wardrobe put together (that may be an exaggeration but close enough). The point is: why do you need it?
Old men in Ties
I asked myself this question and for the life of me could not come up with any reasonable answer. It’s not its existence that I find unsettling it’s the importance we attach to it. Yes I’m talking about the Tie, the little piece of cloth that men (sometimes women) occasionally, (or usually) throw around their neck to appear … ‘distinguished’. I was recently sitting in class watching a documentary and this really old guy (a senior politician of about 70/75 years old) was giving an interview. The whole time he was speaking I could not concentrate on what he was saying because of how his neck looked with the visibly uncomfortable shirt and a tie done so tight that the skin of his neck was folding into creases on top of his collar.
If men don’t have it on in a certain setting - it’s considered unprofessional. If they wear it, they automatically pass the professionalism test, and even then, it has to be the right kind. It can’t be any random thin rope; no it has to be a ‘real’ tie. And then there is the kind, shade and color which has to go with the coat, shoes and shirt, and it has to be from a respectable brand, unless of course you’re a smarty who gets a respectable-looking piece of unnecessary rope to tie around your neck and you pay close to nothing, while keeping the status, which I doubt many men would do. Let’s face it many guys are not so smart on the shopping department.
The History of Tie-ing
So in my quest to find answers I turned to history, why did men start tying unnecessary piece of clothing around their neck? According to wikipedia the history of ties is almost as old as recorded human history. (So the history could be older, simply not recorded :/) Apparently men in ancient Egypt wore a piece of clothing around their neck, a “rectangular piece of cloth tied and hung down till the shoulders” and it was a very important form of affirming social status. The modern necktie finds its roots in China, and men are depicted wearing different forms of neck clothes in Roman times.
And then, according to a questionnaire/ fact finding done by yahoo Croatia it is the country that gave birth to the necktie sometime in early to mid 17th Centuries (1630 – 1640). They claim that merchants from Croatia involved in the Thirty Years’ War visited King Louis le XIV (Yes the Louis that used to wear tights and three inch hills, but then again, all “distinguished” men did then, oh and did I mention long wigs … to go with the tight and hills 
?) And their attire apparently inspired the trendy Parisians, giving the story for when they named the piece of clothing a cravat from the mix of “Hrvati” the Croatian’s name for natives of the country, and “Croats” the French word. That explains the name of the tie’s origin, the French and adopted Amharic name as well, but still doesn’t explain the why there is such a thing.
Neckclothitania
Over time, different forms and styles of the tie have evolved, and apparently the bandana and scarf evoluted of the tie. In the early 19th Century people were so obsessed with tying the tie the right way that they established the Neckclothitania, a book for reference on instructions and illustrations for 14 different cravats; a BOOK! By the second half of the 19th Century Industrial Revolution made it necessary that workers use the neck dress. I think I can safely say this is the ONLY time it was put to any use, – i.e. to keep off dirt from your face, and ultimately the lungs. … And it gets worse, after World War I, the tie was shorter than it is now and started to be … decorated! With flowers and leaves and roses, and stripes for the not so daring souls. After the Second World War they started to be commercialized, used as advertisements, became “wider and wilder” with even ladies’ prints on them. And then of course men came to their “senses” and became conservative with plain old blacks and grays and strips that were ‘in’ again.
Voting it Off!
History has not proven the importance of ties and unless anyone is able to convince me otherwise I see no use for them; especially not today. If you say advertisement, if you were to go around in a tie with an ad today you would most likely lose whatever status you acquired by tying it around your neck in the first place. So what say you, done with the tie?
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Untold Stories of She
19 March, 2009 | 7 comments | Category: for.the.love.of.words!, poetry, prose.tales, thinking...
from silence emerges the invisible hero.
cast in a supporting role
she shuffles quickly behind man, carrying the bucket.
mopping stanking rubbish and residue
with her calloused hands that grip flaming coals…
and her belly that muffles pain.
like light and moths her womanhood lures together people
her wisdom hidden in her womb
in silence it bears history and culture
with depth apparent only through action and nurture…
for words forsake her…
words overlook
diminish and maim her
into an object,
a sweep or blanket
a workhorse, a maid
a silent ornament in the scenery
Wonder how she felt
how she’d vent
what she dreamed
…imagination lit
what she desired
…body aflame
what she pondered…
when she seeps pleasurable tastes
as if thoughts were cough drops from her intellect.
Did she ever say, or was she never heard?
When? to hear her ululations as they reverberate from center stage…
They said…
“Nothing has really happened until it has been recorded.”
So…She existed?
The individual. Not a skirt among the masses.
Not a scarf among the others. not Misses Proxy.
Looking to hear Miss Loud Foxy.
Stories
…she’s the one who told stories.
the oral historian teeming with juicy tales
mostly abound with stories of the men of her family.
casually more absent than present…
those rambunctious heroes with puffed chests and boisterous yelps…
The soldier who died too young after his trip to the Ogaden.
The adventurer who disappeared into the deep south of cental Ethiopia, Arusi.
The intellectual who mounted francophone education brought on the Addis-Djibouti train
The geologist who mapped the vast lands of the horn of africa, pioneering his field.
The student activist who hid away in roofs from the junta red terror police.
The doctor, a former Haile Selassie boy scout, healed patients across the world.
The farmer who tilled the family land
The auto-mechanic who drove jeep convertibles and fixed archaic Italian fiats.
Interestingly, her life mostly featured courageous women.
Though ears strain for their stories…
I pick up whispers, hush-hushed…
The widow entrepreneur who sold injera on dusty streets under umbrellas blocking a fiery sun
The live-in Italian household maid who financed the men’s education
The wife who walked +50km fleeing an abusive man chased by coarse hills, desolation
The homemaker & her shenanigans: sifting, sewing, boiling, sweeping for her family institution
The mother who showered care, thought and exertion to nurture those around her
The controversial bride whose wedding featured an ex-suitor & his blazing guns
The old maid – a failure for not catching the eligible man
The single professional woman building a house in the outskirts of town
stories of She. Untold.
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- Dark Spirits
- Words & Incense
- Let’s vote off the Cravat!
- Interracial Dating…
- the horn’s dustyfoot wordisans
Mars versus Venus
13 March, 2009 | 13 comments | Category: Relationships, dating, sex
Eve ~~ is our next new writer with some feisty unapologetic, no-holds-barred commentary on dating, sex, guys, gals and the mystical world between physiology and emotions within the universe of love. The aspiring physician brings her first ’senduQ Sex Journal’ Entry…
In her words: “We call this section our little sexy journal~dairy. Here, we’ll take down some facts and thoughts on, dating, sex, gender and relationships. We also gossip about why we love guys, why we hate guys, why some of us are single (ahhemm cuz all the guys around are kinda useless ?), why we like to stay single, why the rest of us are happy with those fools, why we are not ready to settle for less than our prince charming, why we believe in soul mates, why we don’t believe in soul mates (just mates)…the list goes on. Our ideas range from silly and humorous to serious and soulful… …”
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So I decided it would be best to start with something bold to break the sex diary ice. I will list some comparisons of body biology and chemistry of men and women. So I’d say it’s probably time to wonder about one’s real sexuality if any of the symptoms listed under the opposite sex apply to you haha *wink
Men (Mars)
- Among primates, man has the largest and thickest penis.
- Studies show that, for some unknown reason, the higher the level of education, the more men tend to have wet dreams.
- The male fetus is capable of attaining an erection during the last trimester (a.k.a men are pervs even before birth)
- Percent of men who say they masturbate: 60% (do you think the rest 40% are telling the truth?)
- Average # of erections per day for a man: 11 ( seriously ewwwww)
- Males, on average, think about sex every 7 seconds (surprise surprise…)
Ladies (Venus)
- Women with a Ph.D. are twice as likely to be interested in a one-night stand than those with only a Bachelor’s degree ( hmmm…one might wonder what they teach the ladies in graduate school)
- A female orgasm is a powerful painkiller due to the release of endorphins (ladies don’t use headaches as an excuse to not have sex….just say N-O!!!)
- The maximum speed at which erotic sensations travel from our skin to our brain is about 156 miles per hour (hot dammm.. that is about 1/5 of the speed of sound)
- About 65% of American women masturbate
- According to Penthouse magazine, more women complain about infrequent sex than men do
- 19% of women think about sex everyday or several times a day.
Obviously, it is hard to generalize and give any conclusive insights about the difference between men and woman as far as sex is concerned. In my opinion, both guys and girls want sex really really bad but woman are shyer acting upon it. I really think woman operate their innate self-control more than men do. Why? Well, biologically speaking, evolution built men to be more dominant and thus more aggressive, while woman have more of a maternal subtlety about them. Society also plays a role by encouraging boys to be tougher and rougher. Even at an early age, boys play with superman and toy guns while little girls dress their Barbies and have tea parties. So could it be because of the Y chromosome or does society play a role? Is it true that men are more sexoholic than woman? Why do women find masturbating so strange (I know most of my girlfriends do)? …Well you be the judge.
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