Tags: media, newspaperrants
scouring for the two 20 bob coins i had in my pocket on Sunday, i bought the Sunday Nation in anticipation of a killer revelation of our state’s the dark secret.
their lead story and front page splash was one of great magnitude and significance promising mind blowing revelation on the life of the late revered spymaster, James Kanyotu.
i couldn’t wait to get in between the sheets with this new ‘client’ being the newshound i are.
however, i felt more than duped and my ravenous newshungry glands taken for a ride.
i mean the face of the investigative writer behind this story, one Kamau Ngotho, promised to giveout a murky-out-the-gutter never-been-heard-before investigative piece.
i was born, yesterday, i admit, but how comes nothing flew out of the page and knocked my socks off? it was in the least, recycled news, funny bits of the spymaster’s antics…nothing more.
however, on a positive note, the story on the Moi succession and Kanyotu’s plan to make Raila Prime Minister flowed well.
indeed, a good piece of press intelligence.
i understand such matters of the state are approached with caution and thus the underlying reluctance. i can not pass my judgement on it now, but can only wait for the serie to run.
the rest of the time i stuck to the paper, it was entertaining and am still waiting for Mathiu Mutuma. SN managing editor and columnist (insight) to get back to his usual witty and humoruos pieces on Lenin’s corpse and Russian cabbages.
the surgeon’s diary, in its 28th year running was another piece i was anticipating for and having been reading it for a while, i think it was worth every inch of the two pages it got.
now, thats one writer i admire, Dr. Yusuf K. Dawood.
buzz, long lost its sting, seems to be dishing out honey instead. the graphics, for once(ok since they changed the look of it together with the whole paper) struck my sweet art eye.
the headline font they use, ugly and unappealing to me, got some magic touch. three strokes and i liked it…that p-square cover. i mean, i aint a design guru, but for an entertainment magazine, the designers need to borrow a leaf from their far ahead rival, pulse and adapt a more flexible look.
otherwise, the gills sans font is fit for classifieds and the layout drab and static.
nuuuuuuuuuuuuf sed…but before i cap this pen, i see Betty Caplan is back and this time its on a rebound on Philip Ochieng’s article on pornography.
well….pornography in Kenya…a separate post here, we need…but while at it, can wordsmith, his penloquency the fifth columnist reply to these gaping holes poked at his intelligence?
And the cause of death was not discovered.
Faded flowers in a vase, but am I
bothered? Beauty is a sharp stick to thrust
in your eye, while love is a fish best served
filletted, so the bones don’t stick in your
throat. Come on, spit it out. The taste of lust
left politely at the side of your plate.
We deserved a three course meal and four squares
a day, but settled for a chip butty.
Now, it’s too late and no-one cares for cold
leftovers. You were putty in my grease
stained hands. For once, be told. A dead bouquet
should be clear enough, else no surcease from pain
is due; only decay and my disdain
I don’t want to run.
I don’t want to turn away from what I know I must do.
My fate is tied to me.
I slash at the strings around me, keeping me with my future, but they draw closer. The more I fight, the closer they come.
Your face is breaking up. Splitting away, mouth a round o of shock. The crowd is a wave, drawing back as one. Did I do this to myself? To you?
The floor is twisting in agony. Red sunset scrawled across it. My footprints walk alone. The ground buckles, throwing me into what must be. It will happen. I resist, buy time with more tears, bargain with screams.
The sky is burning, writing my heart across the heavens. Like a book, the markings make sense if you know how to read them. My eyes are on fire, weeping tears of scalding clouds. No clouds ever hurt so much.
I want to run. Run where?
Tags: church, meeting people
today, i set out to put up an advert in Nation.
it was my first time inside the building but surely not the periphery- in fact, a rich history lies and runs between us…but thats a story for another day paragraph.
ok, as to what the advert was about, i wont say, lest i sell out…but for the few i can trust, its about tapping the expanding metropolitan Nairobi- i own several acres on the moon and a great discount on it: no life, no noise, no traffic, no money, no nothing, just eternal peace!
while about my biz, those macs just awed me and i almost ‘brrrrrrrrrrr-ed’ in respect (and probably belchedwelcome to the mac side of life!”
owning one of these
now, when in my usual scanning mode, my eyeball caught the sight of this hot mamsila behind me as i queued to pay and i dont know why the first though that came to my head was:
1500 NEW ARRIVALS! 0727272727
ever spotted such in the ‘personal and beauty classifieds?
yes, those infamous masseurs that offer more than customers bargain – which they eventually pay for anyway. well, i hope she was (not) advertising for such..and if she was….wacha tu….but i know genuine masseurs exists and STILL those that offer all these ‘diverse and attractive packages’ dot and litter the classifieds. anyone with a personal experience?
i have 😦 …talk about idles meddling with not taking chances
a million million spermatozoa
could have been Newton, Shakespeare, or Einstein
but that once chanced to be me
no else,but me
well, i believe in chances and opportunities and face the uknown with crazy bravado. sometimes anthusiasm and i wont lie, many are the times i get disappointed thoroughly. learning the hard way is not that cool and in the 21st century, research and investigations should come in handy.
but i think that would deny life the flavour of uncertainity…ok in as much as your life and your cool bucks in the bank are not at risk…take the chances!
as i stroll out of nation center, i encounter this chyum( erm erm….panya route..erm, ah!) that floods back hazy memories of a sartuday weeks ago…a late night rave, several cock tails that would make a wine connosseir** turn green…and a clande date….
hey(in kiuk, u say it like, hei!)…if the night will one day pour out what it holds…let me not go to those books…
i was only taking my chances!
ot where else and when would u meet a horny Theologian partying hard?
wait! is this the next generation of pastors?
God help us all as we take our chances and reduce the chance-errors.