web counter The Madness of MokcikNab: July 2005
The Madness of MokcikNab
Motives, movements and melodrama in the life of a thirty something mum.

Sunday, July 03, 2005
Hey Jude

Tell me the truth, did you watch AF or did you watch Live 8 trying to make poverty history, on Saturday night?

I admit, in the beginning, I was flipping the channels back and forth -- I was curious to see if Mawi could do the Antonio Banderas song (the way he sang it, it was the Banderas version), but other than that, I wouldn't miss Live8 for the Wooooorrrld.

To listen to Gilmour and Waters weave their magic on stage; strumming their fingers to pitch perfection, I can't help but agree with my brother Firhad : everyone with a Billboard hit today are but pretenders to the throne. In a way, many of them are unabashed about the forgery : GreenDay, for instance, dressed like The Jam and had kohl and hair like Robert Smith. I almost (almost!) forgave them for desecrating the memory of Freddie Mercury.

Annie Lennox, who sang with a backdrop of a huge video of her time with women and children with HIV, was particularly moving. Yet, at the back of my mind, I wondered if this will be enough to move anything. Despite 5 billion people harking to the call to get their hands out of their pockets, and put their fists into the air, you wonder if they're not just there to enjoy the music. Would the noise be loud enough to make Eight Men in A Room, sit up and listen? I suspect there will be a token gesture, to save political face and all that, but to expect governments to even modify the way they do business, is a different ballgame altogether.

It was apt that the massive come-together started with Paul McCartney and Bono doing Sgt Pepper : it was twenty years ago today, and sadly little has changed in the course of time. In 1985, when Bob Geldof reinvented himself from Rat to rescuer, it was to save Ethiopia from the brink of famine. As we speak, Ethiopia, and much of Africa, is still on that precipice of poverty. And the truth is, while Africa's need is perhaps the most spectacular, there are still people forced to eat siput babi in our own country.

My husband thinks there will be another Band-Aid do twenty years from now; and it's hard for me not to believe him. I admire Bono greatly, this man with the voice of an angel and the conscience of a latter-day prophet, but I am skeptical that a bunch of kind-hearted musicians could hold the attention of a public weaned on MTV, long enough to make a difference. Let's not even think about the rich conservatives set in their ways, who've made their fortune on "infrastructure" and "financial aid".

There has been many begrudging reviews of Jeffrey Sach's book, The End of Poverty, which has a foreword and a cover picture of Bono. I'm buying it tomorrow, just to find out if it's really possible to eradicate debt and penury by 2025. To find out what you and I can really do, apart from being embarrased to see how fat Simon le Bon or Vince Neil has become.


Friday, July 01, 2005
Jessie's Boy

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My son Adam tells me he has a problem. His friend Edrus is insisting that he meets with Jessie Keebler (or Geebler; or something) We were all on my bed yesterday afternoon, I was dozing off as his sisters jumped up and down around me.

"Edrus keeps telling me", and here Adam puts on an affected tone, "Jessie Keebler wants to have a romantic date with you..."

I sit up, awake now. "Who is this Jesakhi Blur?", I ask, alarmed that it could be some itchy-fite ten year old.

"Jessie Keebler", he explained, as if I should know", Diva, Wrestler, Babysitter".


"Edrus says she's his babysitter". And that is not all, he continues to tell me :

"Edrus says she comes to work in a limousine", I let him go on, curious to see where this might lead.

"And sometimes she babysits him with just bras and pantieeees", Adam relates, genuinely worried. "And , sometimes, she doesn't have anything on, she's buck naked! Edrus says when she's like that he has to watch TV like this", he holds up his hands close to the side of his eyes, like blinders.

I know I should, at this point, tell Adam that Edrus has a fertile imagination and that his friend is probably pulling his leg, but I just enjoy Adam when he's being earnest and worried and most of all, when he's totally clueless.

So I tell him, " Well, she sounds interesting. You should tell Edrus you want to meet her"

Adam is wide-eyed and peers into my face, like he does whenever he thinks I've gone screwy.

"Are you crazeeeee? That's the whole point, I must not meet her!"

"Why not? What could happen?"

"Sex?", Adam says, like the word is equal to innoculation or root canal.

For a split second, everything fell silent. I was trying hard not to laugh, because I was supposed to take this seriously, but God help me I just couldn't. After rolling around in mirth, and wiping the tears from my eyes, I ask him : "Adam, do you even know what sex is?"

"Yes", he mumbled, "but I don't want to tell you".

"It's what you and Daddy do when you're both naked!", piped in Aisyha, helpfully.

"Sex", I tell him, " is a biological process for humans to make babies. You're supposed to have sex only with your husband or your wife. You must not let anyone force you to have sex with them, and that goes to you, too, Aiysha".

"Okay!", said Aiysha, brightly.

By this time Adam was crinkling his nose. I don't intend to tell him the details of the biological process just yet, and I know he would soon find out that sex is not always a matter within the perimeters I have mentioned, but for now, I think my explanation will suffice.

"I think your friend Edrus, is just putting you on, darling", I ruffled his hair, "I don't think there's a Jessie Keebler".

"Okay", he said quietly, perhaps almost dissapointed. I wonder who Edrus's Jessie Keebler is, and I certainly wonder about the boy, too.


Yes, you wrestling fans, after googling "diva, wrestler, babysitter", I did find out that Edrus is probably hot for Stacy Kiebler, the woman in the picture above, who is this year's WWE Babe of the Year. Gentlemen, click on thumbnail for a larger view.