Monday, March 19, 2018

what ideal of strength do you follow?

To get power, some men guzzle down the hearts of tigers they've slaughtered, some men lick & slurp the dust of rhino horns they have butchered, whilst others mercilessly fight each other in front of baying for blood crowds. Some men take life, abuse & inflict their might over ALL innocence.

All the above and more for some men's illusion to obtain power, strength & a warped prestige.

Some men , not many men it seems, simply, consistently do everyday what is honorable, kind & right. They do this even though nobody is watching them. That minority type of man, was my father,  Douwe Archibald Damstra. 07/09/31 - 13/03/18

More men need to look to & try emulate examples such as these & we will live in harmonious communities, filled with kindness, love for each other & deep respect. a dreamers paradise, i hear you say? 

the question is the simple answer to the above.

what man, be you? 


Thursday, March 1, 2018

Neural Didactic Conscience Processor. NDCP year 2418

busy writing a story called NDCP , one of those stories that is using my hands to write itself.  as with anything outside of oneself - really enjoying the process.

might think of publishing it - however im happy just to work with it myself - not necessary to let it go into the wild just yet.

Friday, November 3, 2017

moving forward november 2017

life to my simple mind, is not about being rich, famous or even free, it has a singular purpose & aligning myself with this purpose is now my goal.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

seekers - a wildetect style story


As a child I realized when playing hide and seek, one really only needed to hide as close as possible to the seekers, whilst they were counting down. I would carefully position myself in front of them, concealed as best I could. The seekers invariably would shout,” coming ready or not” and whirl away from the position they had been closed eye facing. Which was Exactly Where I was hiding, then they would run looking for the hiders on the horizon. I would wait awhile before reaching out to the den and declaring the usual, “Nicky not on.” Or that’s what we said when we reached the safety of the selected den tree.  We are all grown up now , so this game is not played formally anymore,  however I really did enjoy the intrigue of hiding as close to the seekers as possible.

Living in a very modest home, in what could be termed a working class suburb, I have managed to eke out a living. My debt is the same as the next guy and my overheads much higher than my income. Pretty normal I suppose, I work for a big company that makes billions of dollars, however what I really enjoy most, is coming home to the normality of my everyday life. The complete fear of being hunted by the seekers for one’s wealth and possessions doesn’t over whelm me when I walk in my front door. as I am sure it does a truly wealthy man with lots and lots of possessions.

Kobus Visagie, a work colleague, pops round from time to time, we share a few beers and discuss the rugby or the issues he is facing at work. Kobus is going to make it very big one day, his dreams are massive, and I enjoy the discussion of imagining what’s beyond his horizon line. Kobus does this type of conversation very well. He lives way beyond his means and keeps company with some really rough characters. People he assures me I wouldn’t consider being friends with.  I don’t encourage his stupidity in my house.  However watching someone else making interesting life choices is an experience shared and a life simultaneously lived. All be it through a process of conversation and shooting the ol breeze moments. A simple guy like myself gets to inadvertently see what life’s like over that illusive imagined horizon line.

Kobus came to me several months ago with a sure fire scheme to, as he put it, “redistribute some of the companies wealth portfolio.”   Listening carefully to his scheme, I felt it was ingenious. I told him he needs to be very, very careful, as it sounded like serious embezzling to me. Kobus just said that he wasn’t fearful of the theft or being caught or even the police. He said what was really scaring him most about going through with the plan, was the rumors about the companies silent mystery owner. A truly ruthless individual, far,  far worse than the people he currently was friends with, (for Kobus to say this , judging the company he currently kept, meant the person must be extremely frightening)   this owner of the multibillion dollar company we worked for, man or woman, nobody had ever seen and nobody really knew who they were. It was said that whomever saw them, never lived to tell any tales.  It was also said that they were extremely dangerous. This shadowy boss had taken on an all-encompassing persona and when it came to loyalty towards the brand, “this BOSS was not to be trifled with at all.” I thought it was a strange word for a man like Kobus to use – “trifled” – I couldn’t help smiling. I told him he shouldn’t trifle with this cake owner then. I thought it was a funny comment for me to make, however the silly nuance was lost over his head. He was too absorbed about his long con that he was carefully planning. Well once we had finished a few more whiskeys – Kobus’s brilliant plan was neatly laid out. Superbly crafted and amazingly simple and effective. As I worked in the computer division of this multi-billion dollar company, I myself had a few skills and with the framework of Kobus’s plan I could clearly see the intricacies of his effective thinking. Kobus was going to be very, very rich, without too much work at all. However was it really worth the risk though?

Now that Kobus had taken me into his confidence he came round to my little house in the suburbs much more often, to discuss his master plan of action.  He had solicited the help of several other employees in his department. I told him I didn’t want to be associated with the scheme so my involvement was never to be mentioned.  I was truly amazed how easily people are swayed when the talk of big money is brandished around. Greed and the thought of an imagined materially rich future clouds the most honest of us it seems, this has always saddened me to realize.

I didn’t feel like I was too involved in the scheme, as I told Kobus time after time,  I didn’t want to share in the spoils of his undertaking. Only it was fun to fathom out his thinking process and share in the excitement of his long Con. I was just a sounding board as he counted down his plan. Much time and planning had gone into the small intricacies of his vision. To think more clearly he had the habit of closing his eyes to block out all influence so his mind could race to its wonderfully wealthy end.
I did tell Kobus that it was rumored that the illusive company owner had dealt with similar threats on the companies recourses, by somehow making the perpetrators completely disappear. After years of planning, Kobus was now ready to execute his plan. So it was with a small measure of surprise to me, when Kobus phoned me to say he had been asked to attend a meeting with this shadowy BOSS figure, who owned our multibillion dollar company.  I told him he shouldn’t go and he should resign and move on immediately. But Kobus already had the wealth greed virus really bad and nothing I could say would change his money fueled little mind.

Kobus told me he was meeting the mystery owner of the company through a series of chauffeured driven stops. The first pickup was that evening at 6pm. He was not to speak to the chauffeur who would be masked and he would be dropped off and picked up at undisclosed destinations around the country. The drive could take a while, possibly days.  He was to eventually be taken to a secret hidden away villa for a very private meeting. I begged him not to go, however it was to no avail.
I had to tell him that I was once used in the past to chauffer people as 1 part of 10 pickup and drop off drives. Nobody ever new the eventual location of the villa, except the last driver and the frightening thing was that these people where never ever seen or heard from again. Kobus was confident that he had this one in the bag. He was traveling armed and totally ready for business.

It was with slight amusement for me when Kobus got into the car at way past midnight that night.  the relief on his face when he saw it was me as the chauffeur was over whelming – he said “man nicky, am i so glad to see you, please  get me out of here, I’ve had enough and im very, very scared.”


The end

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Perceptions –a short story by quinton j damstra

Commandant Konraad Leopold Visagie was an incredibly conceited and superstitious man. Unbeknownst to him and most others Konraad had a very dark obsessive compulsive streak. He also firmly believed that his drop-dead good looks, irresistible charm and brilliant wit, made him the complete male package. When woman saw him, he felt they would either lament the fact they were married or simply wish they could have him. If not him, then a man as close to him as possible, which as far as he was aware, was an absolute impossibility. This reality floated around in his head and it was the plain and simple truth of the matter.

When Commandant Leo, his preferred name, first laid eyes on Mrs Lettie Viljoen, it was complete love at first sight. Her radiance was absolutely spell binding and for him she was a natural choice to compliment a great man such as himself. He had only ever seen her from a far off distance, however he was certain what he felt was the truth. Because one thing about being a brilliant man, it is the ability to follow through and make decisive decisions immediately. The first real opportunity he got to actually meet Lettie was going to be at the farewell 3rd battalion border party. KLV had spent 2 weeks preparing for the event, down to the minute detail of placing himself at the Viljoen’s table he even made sure he was sitting at the exact point of the table where the northern sun light would illuminate him perfectly. So when he made his usual spectacular all smiles entrance he knew he was leaving a wake of broken hearts in his trail. He made his way to the round table and his especially reserved north-facing seat at the six-o clock position. His eyes locked for the first time with those of Lettie’s and he was completely shocked to realise she was even more beautiful close up. In the brief first few seconds of their interaction KLV noted how her head delicately tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly – he even noted the colour seemed to go a slighter darker shade. In his heart he felt this look was completely reserved for him. The night went very well with KLV being the life of the table, with his well-rehearsed dialogue and animation delivery. He was even able to glean that Sergeant viljoen, like himself had a complete phobia for snakes, as that day the couple had heard of a black mamba in the compound. A long thin deadly exceptionally aggresive black snake with a gun mettle grey underside and a large upturned at the corners mouth. He couldn’t help emit a fearfull gasp at the mention of such a creature he hoped nobody at the table had noticed his pulpable fear.

The Angolan border was an exceptionally dangerous place – terrorist insurgents were constantly attacking from the north and the attacks were brutal. Sergeant Viljoen proved to be a very brave and clever man, who constantly showed brilliant skill in the face of the enemy. It was during a routine op – the terrorist insurgents performed an anti-trek manoeuvre and completely disappeared. The trail and all traces of them totally vanishing into the landscape. The detailed report showed that a single shot fired at 18h00 from directly south, hit sergeant viljoen in the back of the head, killing him instantly.

It was 2 years after the fatal incident on the border – commandant Leo was now very happily married to Lettie. Every day he pinched himself at his luck to have secured such an incredible prize. Konraad was still in the army and living in the compound house he had secured many years before. His financial status had increased considerably when marrying Lettie, however he insisted on remaining in the army because of all the benefits. The cicadas were screaming out a cacophony of sound as he walked through the front door of his north facing compound house, at promptly 6pm. It did strike him as very strange that the doors and windows where all closed and lettie was not in the kitchen humming gently while preparing the usual evening meal. A strange ice coldness permeated the space – which surprised him for such a hot African highveldt afternoon. KVL did not at first even see what caused the severe pain in his upper left arm. It was only once his eyes adjusted to the light of the passage that he realised he was staring into the eyes of a large thin black snake. The head looking strangely oversized for the size of the thin body. It was standing up on a small part of its tail enabling it to look directly deep into his eyes. The large upturned at the corners mouth opened in an instant to reveal a black inside with large fangs. KVL clutched at his arm whilst whirling panic stricken, frantically screaming, as a wave of complete nausea consumed him. a renewed intense pain struck his right back shoulder as he raced for the door. He fell by the closed sliding door as his breathing started to constrict. What felt like a cold slithering sensation kissed his skin. He felt the weight of a full grown black mamba on his chest. In this bizarre moment he noticed in a strange slow motion Lettie looking in through the clear glass sliding door. She was holding an army report , her head was delicately tilted to the side, her usually large eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. Just before slipping away forever he was sure he noted the colour of her eyes seem to go, a slightly darker shade.



QJD – COPYRIGHT 2011

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

H1virusM2 - the mankind flu virus

Are we earth’s virulent virus. Is Man a virus destroying his host?
We operate under the guise that we are an advanced creature. However we do not act very advanced. We appear so insecure that if there were a more advanced creature on earth, we would have set about destroying it along time ago. The threat would have been greater than trying to understand our advanced neighbour. Like cancer our suburbs erupt, blighting a perfect landscape. Black tar and concrete oozes over pristine fields. Monoxide blankets the once clear skies. If this is evidence of advancement, then we are really just fooling ourselves. Advanced systems or species create environments of self-preservation first; this is not what mankind practice. We act more like a virus as we parasitically stifle the fragile life systems of this earth. We are hell bent on self-destruction and we are actually getting it right. Like any virus we kill our host and hope to god another one swings by before it’s to late.
Our cities verses cancer cells
When analysing mankind’s cities one cannot help but wonder how far removed they are from the beautiful landscape that used to be before the onslaught of man. Our cities ooze tar and concrete all over a once abundant life filled landscape. Where once thousands of creatures and plant life lived and died, now a fraction of different, introduced forms of life inhabit. For us to inhabit a space we change completely the natural order of the Eco system. We do not find a way around our environment; we obliterate all that was once the environment.
Man and his present system appear to be a fast killing virus. Mankind’s very small time on our earth and his ability to wipe out functioning Eco systems instantaneously, make man an extremely dangerous virus. The earth is millions of years old, with Eco systems equally as old. We have managed in a split second of time to bring these environments to there knees. Even viruses that prey on us don’t kill their host as fast. Given the age of the earth and the time man has been on earth. When comparing our life span and viruses that effect us. The virus that is man would kill us in 0.000000000001 of a second. Making us the worst form of parasite yet. As understanding increases of our fragile earth a small part of mankind is stemming the tide of wholesale abuse. Imagine if cancer had small parts of its collective that thought altruistically. We would need only to encourage the growth of that small segment of the collective in order to overcome the threat on the human body.
To bring about change in human perspective is difficult. To try and educate people to stop abusing our fragile earth is impossible. Man will always have the element of self abuse within his ranks and to try and control these individuals is not really the answer. Man will only effect change when his life or resources are coming to an end. We are simply very selfish and will only leave our ingrained habits when the water rises above our heads or the heat of our own fire starts to burn our own flesh. That moment is fast approaching.
Where to from here?

Our city architects have expounded their wisdom and our builders have touted their talents. We have many examples of mankind’s talents. Man does not try and live simply within his means. We have tar and concrete up to our eyeballs. We use every form of soap and insecticide to sanitise our already sanitised living spaces. Few cultures and human forms of life leave little or no scar on the landscape.
What is our answer?
First and foremost we need to humble ourselves and stop thinking the sun circles around us. By this I mean we need to stop thinking we are the smartest life form on the planet. If we where so smart we wouldn’t have a fraction of the problems we do. We are one of the only life form that practices wholesale abuse on an unprecedented scale. (Compared to Earth’s other passengers) If antelope or squirrels showed as huge degrees of difference between individuals, as humans do, we would have desert squirrels living at the bottom of the ocean. We have a vast amount to still learn and we need to acknowledge this lack of knowledge, unpack our existing building processes and start rebuilding our environments with the sensitivity of a few select cultures who have understood clearly our place and space in the universe.
Our structures and cladding could be a living. We could develop architecture that protects us but it itself is alive. So when this fragile structure starts dying we can immediately address the fundamental issues. The structure itself acts as a thermometer to our destructive tendencies. We need to grow our structures as a shell grows around its organism. The individual organism is responsible for its own sometimes-living shelter. When we work with organisms like the organisms creating coral in our oceans to create our shelters, we might have advanced to the next level of our survival on this planet. We might start to understand the synergy we where designed to live by.
We think to permanently about our homes. Homes must provide shelter for us today not necessarily be around in 10 000 years time. Each successive generation should have the privilege to build their own structures. Learning from past endeavours and improving on future concepts. Our structures at the moment are permanent fixtures. Along with the scar of the quarry that the stones for our homes where hewn out of. Our building materials must be alive; they must provide an unseen energy, which flows through our human experience. The only type of construction on earth I can think of at present that fits into this thought process is the polyps of coral and the small creatures that create them.
This form of construction using living building material will form an early warning system to potential environmental issues. Like the rose trees at the edge of a vineyard detect problems before the vines fail.
Mankind will reach the next level of his advancement when his energy to put back into the universe is greater than his energy to take out. We are incredibly destructive creatures who need to stop feeling where the top of the food chain and start realising we are in actual fact a very, very small part of a massive system. Of which we have not found our correct place in yet. It appears through instinct, wisdom most of the planets other passengers are able to get along without interrupting the natural flow of things. We can learn so much from systems around us – and we have the wisdom to find the best system that will best suite our needs. Unfortunately we are still quite far from this point in our history.
Quinton J Damstra
www.erxell.com
www.qjdamstra.com

The bird whisperer - copyright 2009

Konraad Jacobus Smit was an intensely quiet man, introspective reflective to the point of being extremely rude. To Konraad, peripheral talk did not interest him at all. He enjoyed his own company and chose not to speak, let alone meet people. The very thought left him feeling cold and in a strange way violated. His small holding was a suitable distance from the Karoo town he chose to settle in. He never received visitors and his trips to town were short and decisive. When the townsfolk tried to include him initially, many years before, he made it known in no uncertain terms, he wanted to be left alone. So for 40 years he lived off the interest of his parent’s substantial inheritance, not knowing or caring about whatever happened to the family home in Stellenbosch and the holiday homes dotted around South Africa. Konraads parents passed away disenchanted by their only son, who was lavished with attention, only to reject all emotional advances unequivocally. From a very early age he willfully shunned all forms of human interaction. Now days the only time Konraad interacted with anyone was when he gruffly walked into the institution that had been managing his financial affairs. He cared not for the entire amount or for the wealth of the full portfolio, only for that which sustained him at present. Konraad knew exactly what was happening around him, he was aware of what was expected of him. For reasons not even fully understood by himself, he just did not want to give up his thoughts, feeling that every thought or notion was a valuable piece of treasure. A treasure that would get depleted with every word carelessly spilled from his lips.
Konraad had a mysterious gift, a gift his parents could never understand. Where did Konraad receive this gift, this strange but wonderful ability. They fathomed over the meaning of Konraad’s gift, whilst he sat silently wishing only to be left alone with his thoughts. He watched owlishly the numerous professional people who tried to unpack and unpick the sacred trove of his mind. Reverting ever further inwards into the deep dark recesses of his inner sanctuary. Simply put, his strange gift was that he could call the birds. Konraad would sit outside on the grass and make a gargling rasping sound with his throat. A single bird would flop down from the sky and land close to him, not so close as to appear startling. The bird would appear drugged and confused, staring transfixed at the source of this strange sound. Within a short space of time birds would appear from all over. It wasn’t just the shear volume of birds but the variety, all mesmerized by the strange little man quietly gargling and gasping. The trees surrounding this spectacle would become heavy with birds. Konraad would tilt his beaked nose this way and that, perfectly mimicking a clucking chicken. Konraad would keep this charade going waiting for his favorite bird to make an appearance. The beautifully green malachite sunbird would dart this way and that through the throng of feathers, its beautiful plumage catching Konraad’s peripheral vision, before disappearing in another direction or behind a more drab, dull counterpart. The sunbird perfectly reflected his own mind and thoughts, with concepts racing through his mind, out of reach. Konraad read thousands of manuals for appliances, cars, "how to books", mathematical reference material and scientific journals. He would inevitably have better ideas, more advanced concepts than the ones put forward. He zealously guarded these concepts, however, squirreling them away like a crow, to be recalled at will and ripped and pulled apart at his leisure like a giant bird of prey. He would chortle and chuckle to himself , budgie like, for improving the relativity theory or a mathematical formula. He knew he had the answers sought after by the great minds of the day, but he would not impart with his nuggets. They were safely stored in the vault of his mind, never to escape the tightly sealed chasm, never to see the light of day.
There came a point in the calling of the birds that a single sunbird would hover effortlessly infront of him, beating its tiny beautiful wings thousands of times a minute. He would sustain this moment for as long as he could, all the while staring transfixed at the tiny frail bird in front of him, taking in the extraordinary beauty of this truly magnificent bird. The 2 creatures locked in a strange frozen moment , with thousands of onlookers.
As he reached out next to him, he reflected how ironic it was that he had been given this unusual gift. He continued to marvel at his ability and the trust this tiny bird put into him, a strange cold hearted creature, like a moth to a flame. Konraad was still enchanted by his extraordinary ability and the irony as he took aim at this little bird and squeezed off a single shot that exploded the entire mass of birds into a flurry of activity. The vortex of this turmoil left Konraad with the slowly fading flapping of wings and thousands of tiny feathers , mostly green, slowly , silently drifting to earth.