“Disgust is cheap. I asked for self-disgust…” _ Wole Soyinka (Madmen and Specialists)
They were on their fifth round of drinks, or was it the sixth? Keeping count didn’t matter anyway… what mattered then is that everyone was feeling a whole lot better and cockier.
“Hey, hey, I got another one, wanna hear it?” he asked.
“I hope its not another one of those Knock Knock jokes”, she took another sip from her wine glass.
A playful smile formed on his face, followed closely by a doubtful frown.
“Ah, never mind, should keep that one stuck in my head…”
“What? I can take dirty jokes too you know.”
“Its not dirty, just that - ”
“That what?”
“Hmm… nothing… Just not the type of jokes I want to be sharing with you… you know…”
Curiosity killed the cat, huh? Well, this was one hell of a cat and it was killing her. They had been drinking buddies a long time and somehow in the course of this ka-relationship she had somehow formed the impression that there was nothing he or the other guys in the crew could keep from her, especially under the influence. From drunk dials, to gory tales of sexual conquest to endless banter about the premier league, she always had talk time reserved for her in those discussions. It made her feel special; it made her secretly feel masculine – like she was one of them. There was no way she would let this one slip.
Three drinks later, he couldn’t take the pestering any longer. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. Once he started, it was like he had completely lost control of his tongue and there was no way he was going to stop any time soon. At some point he was even slurring and foaming at the mouth like those Uhuru park preachers.
“You know, you know, you know all my female friends on FB seem to be getting paged of late. My friends list is like a preggers mugshot. Shit violent…”
“Hahahaha… wait … ahahahaha. Oh my gosh…”
“That shit’s in fashion you know… they – they try- they trying to give ‘fashionably late’ a whole new meaning!”
“Oh my gosh, meanie…”
“What? It’s a beautiful thing…fuck yeah, it is!!!”
And he went on and on and on. Some of the most original pregnant jokes of the century came out of that inebriated mouth. Pity, the days of having slaves following you around writing down every word that came out of your mouth a la Cesarian Rome were over and done. She must have squealed “Oh my gosh” a hundred times in between spilling her drink, choking herself and clutching at her poor ribs from the laughter. He only stopped much later, when the pressure on his bladder started sending saner nerve impulses to his brain.
“Oh my gosh, you are an ugly soul… UGLY!!! I hate you!!”
“What? I told you they were unsuitable… that’s what you get for wanting to read people’s minds…”
“No. I mean, gosh… what is wrong with you??? That's no excuse, don't I look like a woman to you?”
"What? So now you wanna throw a bra at me?"
"No, I'd like to shove a couple of my eggs down that sorry cock of yours right down to your balls, fancy having twin babies dangling on your ball sac, you ugly soul! What do you know about what it feels like to be a woman?"
"No, i have no idea, but women have never been men a single day of their lives and they are always talking about what a real man is and what a real man is not..."
"Fuck you, smart ass..."
“Ah, no, fuck you! And what is wrong with you? If I’m not wrong, you were the one who almost pissed herself laughing, no? Speaking of piss, I gotta take one myself. Now, if you will excuse me…”
He got up and hurried towards the gents. Halfway there he walked back to her.
“You must admit, it was one funny outburst, huh?”
She paused to reflect and smiled, “Yeah, it was…”
“Woman, you are an ugly soul, damnit… UGLY!!!”
“Yeah, I guess I am…”
"That is why, I love you so..."
"Awwww... Puhleease, spare me the flattery, son..."
* * *
Society is a complex network even in its most basic form. The concept of the social network is presents even more complex challenges for us. Its dynamics are like a piece of modern art. It is beautifully ugly – so ugly, you simply cannot take your eyes off the goddamn thing. It is beautiful in the ugliest ways, ways that could bring tears to your eyes. You are placed in a rare position as both the artist and consumer of the art. Appreciation and disgust come hand in hand, and in real time too. In pursuit of perfection of this art, part of what make us human will have to occupy second fiddle including the universal notions of common sense and human dignity themselves. That is how it is, no more no less. The more you realise that your work is a mere pixel in the whole damn painting, the less you would want to interpret it. Come to think of it, and in as much as I hate to admit it, this virtual world reveals more about ourselves than face to face without the ‘book’ ever will…
In this world, there is no defence known as “fun”, “its never that serious” or “X started it”…
In this world, there is no way you are not just as fucked up as the next person…
In this world, there is no room for disgust, only self-disgust...
"Yeah, what happened to that maize?" "Ile mbuku Oginga Odinga... Not Yet Uhuru..." "Mummy, even me I know how to draw aeroplane!"
