Coccodiosis

How best can I begin this surmise than by relating a social media exchange I had or rather someone attempted to have with me. This is how it happened. I posted on how profound I thought Bebe Cool’s chorus in the above titled song was. (I am working on the presumption that you realize that I have borrowed his song title for this piece, wrong spelling and all). So a friend comments on how the song breeds hatred and how God should have mercy on me!!! I love to think that each of us has a slightly clearer picture about how streamlined our moral turpitude is, than observers….good intentions notwithstanding. (TWIMC) I’ll leave it at that.

Naye, before I steer clear of this rift, this is how that tide flows. I have strong religious inclinations of my own, yet I find a lot to learn from the birds that sing, the bruised toe, the ache at the back of my neck; an eyebrow that uproots itself and decides to linger in the path of my vision…trivias and some more trivias of life. Again like my nose, you have your opinion, and I am so not smoking your pipe.

Anyhow, I have come to the dawning of what an extreme incline it is to surmount the ordeal of sustaining a conversation with someone of a different intellectual inspiration than ourselves; unless, of course you are an extreme adventurist, psyche or incredibly patient chit-chatter. There is a huge propensity for boredom, a mental haze , Riviera or something like that. Even if you decided to talk about shoes, hair, nails, soccer, cars and the like; you would not help but appreciate that the divergence of opinion on literary anything is not as narrow as the Northern bypass. (If I have been elevated to a certain political system and now think I can stand better on my own, it is not unlikely that I will stand in Masaka and in a husky voice, aided by not the tiniest eyes in the world; shout, “Aja’genda..”

As a student, one’s mind is pregnant with academic prospects, demands, challenges and even pun. Yet when you dare damp such excitement on a pensioner, you are right beyond your sensitivity cavity my friend. It is not only a torture but an unnecessary one to say the least. This cuts across disciplines. No offence, but tell me whether you would have a field day engaging Justine Bieber in medical jargon? Just talk music, clothes, hair styles and you would be good to go. You might like your hands splashing in the ocean and I relish my feet in the sand but it doesn’t mean neither of us is having fun. Maybe what is good for the goose is good for the kiga (gander) but one man’s rolex can be another man’s food poisoning.

It pays to know your pay grade but if you are tempted to get an overdraft, be sure to know how to spend it.  If Arsenal has never bought a player worth more than (I can’t even find a Euro sound on my PC), anyway ….never more than 23 million something; why should you be surprised that Wenger is keeping 116 million without knowing whom to spend it on a few  weeks into the transfer window. It is called culture shock. Again he is the coach, you are not…he has the money, you don’t so keep your nose to your genius self. It helps to know when to say what, to whom and for what. Otherwise you linger and grope in the dark walls of irrelevance and obnoxiousness.

Anyway, Mr. Munene, please come for your IP rights for your contribution to this piece if I get a penny. Speaking of originality and relevance, I could have titled this something like, “ Ebyo biyamba gwe tomalila budde”, but I didn’t want to presume that ffena turi basajja ba Kabaka (that we would understand the translation).