Posts by Cameron Olivier

Dexter, the prodigal son.

January 21, 2012, by No comments yet

So it seems political grinch -cum- prodigal son, Philip Dexter – Cope’s spokesperson, MP and founding member – is jumping back onto the ANC G-train with what is to be expected from greener-grass chasers: the requisite ankle-biting and ass-licking.

Waxing lyrical when he left the ANC to start Cope a few years ago, this political postulator accused the then JZ-run party of (to quote the Cape Times quoting him) “‘peddling lies’, promoting ‘factionalism, tribalism, violence, misogyny’ and ‘condoning possible criminal activity’”.

Now, leaving Cope, he’s self-proclaimed “failed experiment”, he seems intent on pouring yet more vitriol on the Cope-fire he started back in May when he basically accused his party members of mismanagement of funds, abuse of power and manipulating election results.

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This is the life

December 26, 2011, by No comments yet

SynergyLive and the American Wet Dream

December 3, 2011, by 3 comments

The crowd was thick with alcohol, anticipation and opiates as the chill of the Pniel-driven winds coursed through their limbs. For this throng of dusty rockers, this was the epitome, the dénouement, the finale of festivales twenty eleven.

The focus of their fervor darkened as moments later the twang of distorted chords filled the air. It had begun.

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An unsatisfactory conclusion

November 22, 2011, by No comments yet

Yes I know my enemies,
they’re the teachers who taught me to fight me
… compromise, conformity, assimilation,
submission, hypocrisy, brutality, the elite.
“Know your enemy” – Rage Against The Machine

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I woke to the “gnaaa” “gnaaaa” “gnaaa” of my alarm piercing my head for the umpteenth time. The snooze button had been pressed once too many and at this rate, I was going to be late. In a vain attempt to reign in that metal beast, I threw on the pile of clothes lying on the floor beside my bed, showered the porcelain – I’d showered myself the night before – and “cirque du soleil”-ed my torso deftly into last night’s t-shirt.

Shoving the necessaries into my gym bag, face still wet, my mouth spouting minted morning-breath, I pulled my laptop bag over my shoulder and headed down the stairs. Read more →