Posts Tagged semantics
What is good? What is bad? The answers to those is a matter of semantics in the world today but if we go by the basics, then good is good and bad is bad. Good is God and bad is Satan. Good is Born Sinner and bad is Yeezus.
Drugs are good for you, especially when you’re down with an illness. Then again, there are some drugs that aren’t good for you yet those who follow such prescription based on some twisted diagnosis life has given them will have you believe more than a Jehovah Witness evengelist can convince you of Jesus that these ‘drugs’ are good.
So if a select few cush-ioned nicely in a corner of cozy cloud nine can state for a fact that certain bad drugs are good and some of you after a trial or two or three till-society-labels-you-an-addict number of times go with the verdict of the select few… what then is good and what is bad?
P.S: The Netherlands is such a lovely country, Colombia too. The things you could do with all the oranges and Shakiras.
To get these things, the good things of life, you need to possess a serious amount of currency(-ies) for a sustained period of hourglass turns under the motivation or guise of achievement or plain ”you creatures are beneath me”. Or, you inherited the wealth/riches and couldn’t be bothered anyway so long as lanes are maintained.
Then you get to the point where, even though money is a good thing, how you get it eventually determines its holiness or otherwise in the supposed grand scheme of existence.
Therefore, as far as daily judgement goes, Mobutu money is bad money, Abacha money is bad money, Dangote money is good money, Gates money is good money, Uba money is bad money, Shawn Carter money is Illuminati money… which brings us to the question, is the Illuminati good or bad?
One on side you have the Illuminati as the evil itself. The very symbol of evil, the highest degree of all things condemned, the 12th level of Bounce, the seventh world of Zuma and the entity to be found at the very end of Temple Run.
It’s the eye of the dollar, making o ye users of that currency (there are many dollars but you know) inadvertently yet unexcusably as evil as Mephostopheles or Baal, or both combined. Maybe as evil as Lucifer? Oh wow, now you’d be BAD!
On the other side, the illuminati represents a misunderstanding of history. A distortion of translated records from dead ancient languages to modern languages. Now, imagine this:
Ancient: ”The Supreme Leader and Possessor of this realm, the realm beyond and all realms unknown yet in existence around, above, beneath and inbetween this realm, orders the execution by beheading like a lamb for sacrifice of the maids for displeasing the Royal Guard of Realms.”
Modern translation: ”Around 4358 BC, Emperor of what is now the Russia, the Middle East and a small part of Asia, ordered the beheading of lambs and maidens [virgins] to please their gods.”
If you ask Yeezus, he’d cuss you out and make another album of it, guided by a ‘creative direction’. If you ask me, you’ll get a blank stare, or some cocked up ‘opinion’ that’s well glossed words ever so pristine and immaculately delivered when it actually is utter bollocks of no wisdom or belief.
A wise person should keep mind away from such matters so abstract and focus on the matters that matter to the mather… *mother. So when are you getting married? Oh, you’re married. Okay. When will you give her a grandchild? Oh you have a grandchild, splendid.
But when will you give her a male grandchild? Oh I see, your children are boys. Marvellous. Why did it take so long to give birth to the first born? Before you even answer that, are you barren? It’s only barren people that take so long to give birth because they’ve been trying only to pay the help to be a surrogate :|!
Was the help just a surrogate or did you guys have a Hagar arrangement with the help? When was the last time they paid granny a visit and spent the night for a week or month there? Ah, when did you start to stammer? What’s the meaning of this? You this child, you want to kill me before my time? I serve a living God, do you?
… mothers. Always concerned.
Not as concerned as when boys, guys, men, who’s he-s, your father’s mates, George of the Joan Rivers Fashion Police kind, Segun Arinzes, Samwise Gamgees and especially Lady Gagas start owning her daughter’s attention.
Wait, you thought the father’s yes got the daughter’s hand married off? Such a learner. This is another tale for another day but today, are all men bad? Are there still some good men? Are ‘men’ really found in all the painful experiences of women? Or do women misinterpret pleasure as pain?
Here’s the thing, as painfully read in the bestseller 50 Shades series, S&M is a painful yet pleasurable experience. We also know of some of you who are in physically abusive marriages yet choose to stay in it for your reasons. Is the sex after THAT good?
Then there are some of you in surface bouyant marriages when around the corner, at the next street or state or country, your partner is upholding another marriage there. How and why these category of people do it, I’ll never understand but you have admire their energy and verve.
Then a unit or all of Family A find out that a chief partner in A has all the years been managing Family B elsewhere, leading you to ask ”what?!?!” or ”whyyyy… ?” only to be told a tale that touches the heart of dire circumstances that led to Family B.
Derailing from off-topic, it indeed could actually be difficult for a woman to discern good and bad or why would a woman marry a man knowing very well he has a wife and family elsewhere?
Oh don’t get this wrong, men have a good idea of what is good and bad but when this man married and started a second family, he obviously didn’t think it was a bad idea. Besides, his name isn’t Abdulquadri Omar Hassan who is allowed to have as much as four wives (so long he loves them equally).
So in the end, what is good and what is bad? It is bad to call a bad person bad because that’s judgement (from a good person). But then, it is not judgement but a complement to label a good person good? Moral, there’s a very thin line between good and bad.
All the above usually gets me through the puzzle that makes a person blow him/herself up in the midst of people based on the promise that they will be received by 70 virgins way upstairs in the realm beyond and their family left in this realm will be paid PSG-esque for their sacrifice.
Last question though. Does that mean a female suicide bomber is promised 70 virgin males waiting to give her sknacks in the realm beyond after the deed here, which is good in their eyes but bad to society, is done? If your answer is yes, you’re telling me one can be a whore up there? Seriously? An eternity of whoring but not in the fires way below?
Semantics is a linguistic process which basically deals with meaning; focusing on the relation between signifiers such as words or phrases and what those signifiers denote with consideration to previous communication between conversing persons, knowledge about something (an event, person, concept… anything) known only to these conversing persons and how it suitably applies based on context to their present discussion or happenings in their immediate environment… such that… okay okay, definition actually ended at “what those signifiers denote”.
Lately in school here, it doesn’t take long to hear someone assert that “it’s a matter of semantics” when a male coursemate invites another coursemate who’s female to a meal of fried plantain and eggs or when a female coursemate gets agitated and declares “I’ll blow you o!” to a playful male coursemate…or when a young woman implores on a fellow sister with a very worried countenance to “stop wasting credit na!”.
Where are we headed with this matter of semantics? It all started about an hour past midnight at the departmental dinner held recently, where the author of this post was handed an award that stretches the concept of semantics a bit beyond the necessary realm.
The co-MC, a delectable young woman responsible for the “I’ll blow you o!” statement from earlier, got to the bit for this particular award to be presented, only to pause mid-sentence and wonder aloud ‘ah! I don’t understand what this award is about’.
She went on however, with that lovely Ibo voice of hers, “the next award to be presented tonight will be the ‘hourglass male’ award. Yes! Hourglass male”. Audience reacted differently, mostly shocked and amused while I, at this point, was laughing hard, palm to chest, face down, body jerking like a hard piece of hot yam tried entering the wrong pipe.
“And the nominees are… ” she began, recapturing tne audience’s attention, “… Leke”, ‘ehn?! Mogbe!’ I cried out mutedly. “Jide”, ‘has to be him’ I thought. “Ah-ah… Pa James”, a popular fella in the department. “And… ” a fourth name I didn’t hear. “And the winner is… ” and I caught myself praying I wouldn’t hear my “pervy perv! Leke!!!”… *sinks into chair*.
*gets lifted by friend sitted next me*
*covers face with my palms while being pushed forward*
*gets on stage and is quickly joined by probably all coursemates in attendance*
*gets spanked on the lean behind and thinks ‘that hand better not be male’*
*gets spanked again and thinks ‘God, lama sabach tani! 😦 ‘*
“Wait wait, allow him so the photographer can take pictures” I hear someone say. Save me Jesus! 😥 . Photographer snaps away, some (deep within) queer being touches my lean behind again 😦 and to cap it, I’m handed the microphone… to say what please? “I’m on a diet of vegetable, fruits and I don’t drink alcohol, socially or dutifully”? No! F*** no!
“I have no idea what this is about” I begin, “coat I’m wearing feels oversized now” I continue, “hourglass… “, I look upon the award to confirm. Yep, it was on it, name and all. ‘I have offended some people!’ I concluded in thought before saying “thank you though. It’s a matter of semantics” and going off stage… lean behind getting touched yet again. What devil sent this person?! 😥
A young woman walked up to me much later, when the DJ finally owned the floor, and jokingly declared her disappointment that I was gay. “Meh! Come and hug me… ” I reply. “Ah! No o! You ke?” she retorts. “But I won’t feel anything na… ” at which point she’s shaking her head at me.
We danced later or more like she danced and I… I dunno… body was moving anyway. The rest of the very pleasurable night’s memories I’ll keep to myself rather than bore you with. Let’s just say I didn’t get drunk, body moved and my lean behind was thankfully left alone for the night.
Female hands have however joined in touching my lean behind ever since, for which I am (like I have a choice not to be) grateful! 😦 . Male ha… nah, I’ve told those ones I’ll scream “homo leave me!” if they even attempt it. Next thing, an actual homosexual would take advantage of the joke and start… oh God! 😦
This is for that time, years coming, when it will be most necessary. “Daddy. Mummy. Your soon to be son-in-law is a vibrant and healthy heterosexual and sapiosexual being. No, oh not at all ma. The co-MC was just joking when she called me ‘pervy perv’. See ma, It’s a matter of… oh yes, exactly ma! Semantics ma! [all laugh, probably fake laughs but hey… ]. And as you know, by the new year your gloriously gorgeous and blessed daughter, the beautiful young woman you have raised so well to become a gem far above and well out of reach of scum and what not… this queen to be will bear you a grandchild then!”
“Oh? She hasn’t… Haba Motun! Your parents don’t know you’re pregnant? But you said you’ve told them na… what’s all th… oh? You’re Mosun? Not Motun? No wait, wait, let’s be clear here. Noooo, wait… calm down… I… stop name calling like we’re in the transfer wind… calm down Motu.. -sun. Mo-sun! Aww shit! Let me… wait… let me tell you about minimal pairs… ”