The other face of FACEBOOK.

Fellow readers, you might not realize it, you might think it’s a myth and you might convince yourself that it’s only a result of exaggeration, yet it’s true: Facebook changes your life in ways you will never realize until you decide to take that step and leave. It could be good or bad.

It had been almost 2 weeks since I deactivated my account, and day by day, I came to realize how much my life had changed since I had set up my account 2008. The truth is, I’ve wanted to de activate the account on several occasions, however, I kept making excuses like: “I need it for work”or “I need it to keep up with friends”. (By the way, I am back now!)

But I finally did it, and so I would like to share with you the 10 ways in which leaving Facebook have changed my life, maybe you would be inspired to leave as well, or maybe you would reconsider your Facebook use!

1. Rediscovering My “Real” Friends:

You know that pinching ache you get in your stomach when you miss a friend? When you wonder how he/she is? What they are doing? Well, if you think Facebook is the cure, you are mistaken! Since I deactivated my account, I realized that real friends don’t need reminders that you exist in order to remember you; they will contact you by phone or email and ask about you whether you have a Facebook account or not.

2. Focusing More on Work and the Hustle:

Although I did use Facebook for work . Actually, I realized that Facebook does distract me from work more often that not!

3. Having A Clearer Mind:

Without the continuous comments and reactions to everything you do or say on Facebook, you can actually think better. Moreover, when you spend more time focusing on your life rather than other people’s business, you have more time for you. Its rather a painful pill to swallow.

4. Spending More Time with People:

Facebook has the power of fooling you into thinking that you are spending time with your friends and family through the occasional poke, message, tag or photo share- and some people really annoy me with their useless tags on photos. In reality, though, Facebook can lead to the death of interaction. When I left Facebook, I started having more meaningful talks with people and I could choose whom to tell about what, when I want.

5. Pissing off Less People:

It might sound weird but yes, my favorite part of leaving Facebook is that now I pissed off less people. You know why? Because if I decided to update my controversial status, I’d step on someone’s “cornz”.

6. Dealing with Less Privacy Concerns:

Although I know my information is there(well it used to be until the sudden emergence of the Dennises) and that Facebook can use it, I feel so much better about sharing less with the world and regaining some of my privacy!

7. Waiting Time is Reduced:

When you want something from someone on Facebook, you have to wait until they check their Facebook account to get it. (Well, the new Instant Facebook Apps has adressed this issue). I hate waiting! So now, when I do need something from someone, I use the phone or the email; less waiting time and more effective communication!

8. Remembering Things on My Own:

Since I signed up with Facebook, my memory has been really bad; I got to a point where I could not remember my best friend’s birthday! That’s even better. Imagine forgetting your partner’s birthday.

9. Receiving Less Criticism:

Although some criticism is constructive, most of it can be very destructive. Without facebook, I just get criticism and advice from those whom I seek and trust. It makes my life simpler. I try hard not to pour my heart out to the status message space. It just makes me a lil vulnerable.

10. Having More Time to Discover:

There are many things to discover on the web, and Facebook takes away from your time to do so. try de activating your account for a few days and see how many new things you will discover and how many sites you might stumble upon.

Yes, Facebook has its ups but careless use of might put you in difficult and vulnerable situations.
What’s your take on the issue?

Hit me up on twitter @brucencube

Old vs New School

A mighty battle that seems difficult to comprehend has surfaced. We are facing a tough choice of whether to stick with what we know and are comfortable with or to move with time.
The (good) old times, (I say good as this is my comfort zone), have beautiful memories. Memories that last forever. A history that cannot be shaken. Times where respect, trust and love came naturally, well to most. The days when one could be really emotionally connected to their surroundings.

Love and trust could not be faked. I could go on and on with stories from way back. How one would pick a pen and paper and write a letter to their loved one. That taste of a stamp. Unparalleled. That anxious look one had as soon as the post man cycled towards your home. Life was beautiful, complete and simple. When one had a loving home and was surrounded by people who really cared, this made life so much worth living.

Today, the dynamics have shifted. Technology has taken over. Personally, it has robbed me of a lot of things. Yes, it has made my material life way better. It has made it possible for me to connect with friends and relatives that I cannot see or talk to on a daily basis but it has changed me.

Material things, all of a sudden matter. We have grown so much apart yet we are so close to each other. Ever realised how your phone is always clicking? We do not pay attention to our surroundings. Though we are getting ahead technologically, our brains are slowly diminishing.

A conflict is growing and we cannot see it. Something as simple as SPELLING correctly is slowly vanishing. We misuse the power of technology. The mother tongue is slowly crippling. “Broken Engrish” is slowly taking over. We don’t see it but that is what the Social Media has done. Our ability to construct sentences will soon be a thing of the past. Painfully, respect for the elders is now a ‘has been’.

So the question on my mind is How then do we strike a balance between the two? Old vs New School.

Hit me up on twitter
@brucencube
or simply post your comment on this issue.

Growing Pains- ReLoaded

As the name suggests, todays growing pains is Re”ally” Loaded. So here I was getting used to the system of the school. Getting to know new mates and not enjoying falling victim to the seniors constantly “Initiating” the newbies aka AmaDzombie. For those who do not know, this name has nothing to do with being a Zombie.

Anyway, much as I hated the seniors, I enjoyed the life lessons we got from them, at least that’s what I thought. You will remember that I am a ‘grounded’ person. Yes, literally, I am short. I quickly became popular amongst the seniors. It was fun until they put me into deep trouble. One evening I had a little quarel with one of my dorm-mates who was not only older than me but clearly bigger than me. Now think, Dj Tira vs Mampintsha. Yep, that. One of the seniors pulled me aside and told me to hit the guy and they would hold and celebrate my victory. Now me being me, I went for it. As “Mampintsha” continued pushing me around, I got onto one of the beds, got eye to eye with him, slapped him and jumped off thinking the seniors would stop the fight and celebrate my mini victory.

Well, by now most of you might be thinking, wow, brave little man. Ok, this was the day I learnt never to mess with a guy bigger than me. As I turned around, I realised that the “senior guy” was far from the action and ready to watch me get a beating of my life. That’s what I got and from that day onwards, I learnt to be selective in terms of advice.

When I thought my weekend would not get any worse, I had another thing coming. During the course of the first days, the seniors were supposed to be telling us the names of the teachers.
There was a teacher who taught IsiZulu and his name was Mr Ndikimba. On that fateful day, he called me to a fully packed staff-room and sent me to the tuck-shop. Befor going out he asked me who I’d say had sent me. “Mr Ndikimba, sir. ” I said confidently. That’s the day I learnt never to call an adult by his/her nickname especially to their face.
If Mampintsha had given me a beating of my life, then that teacher gave me a beating of my……2nd life. More to come my friends. Ama GumGedlelaz aka Macarenas!!!! My mom’s nogal. Hit me up.

Growing Pains

Growing up has come with its amazing ups and its fair share of downs. One thing that has motivated me is my ability to view hardships in a positive way. You might be thinking, “Oh poor old Bruce. He has been through hell.” Yes, I have but trust me, my past experiences have shaped me. You’d be saying the same if you spent 6 years of your life at a boys only boarding school, aka FARM SCHOOL. Our lives revolved around the mating season of pigs and yes, donkeys.(Need I say more?). Our lives were driven by THE BELL( a rusty piece of rail track-ISPORO that had to be struck by a short iron rod. This hung on a tree on the way to the Dining Hall-DH).

The excitement we got from receiving letters was amazing. The ability to steal a pot of 12 pieces of chicken, hide it outside the DH, was classic. Only to find the farm workers’ dogs had feasted on your steal.

Now, in my 1st year of high school, here I was in the evening study time and my stomach decides to act up, again. (Must have been the beans we had for supper). I knew I had to act fast, stood up and asked for paper(tissue was a luxury then) only to be caught by a Prefect for making noise. As he summoned me, everyone quietly looked on.

I knew I was in trouble when he grabbed me by the neck and pulled me towards the front. His punishment was the least of my worries. I had a “load” to deal with. As we stood there, I let rip a Silent bomb and within seconds, I could feel the grip on my neck loosening. I knew I had delivered the perfect anti-punishment weapon. He let me go and I looked at his face shriveling up in disgust.

I knew I was going to be a temporary hero to my classmates until they too “heared” the bomb. In my mind, or rather in my stomach, I knew I had to go. I couldn’t run. I just feared the worst. I walked towards the dorm toilets but as I walked past The Bell, I couldn’t hold it anymore. To this day, I know the student on duty the following day had been asking himself, “Who the hell decided to unload here.”

Owh well, I didn’t have a choice. There’s more stories I have from my high school days. I just can’t wait to tell you about the week I spent with one shoe, looking for my left shoe or the term I wore my mom’s black Makarinas aka Gum Gedlelaz or even the day I unknowingly called a teacher by his nickname. Hit me up with your crazy high school days on twitter.

twitter @brucencube

Was Jesus Christ really born on 25 December?

Fellow readers, its been a while. My last issue was supposed to be an interview with a high profile Musician(do not worry, it is coming). Yesterday I was watching the news and realised how people have died in the name of CHRISTMAS holidays. Was Jesus Christ really born on the 25th of December?

Lacking any scriptural pointers to Jesus’ birthday, early Christian teachers suggested dates all over the calendar. November 18 has been pointed out. Some figured Christ must have been born on a Wednesday(ok, well maybe this was really pushing it)

A careful analysis of Scripture, however, clearly indicates that December 25 couldn’t be the date for Christ’s birth. Here are two primary reasons:

First, we know that shepherds were in the fields watching their flocks at the time of Jesus’ birth (Luke:2:7-8). Shepherds were not in the fields during December. According to history and research, it is suggested that Jesus may have been born in summer or early fall.

Secondly, Jesus’ parents came to Bethlehem to register in a Roman census (Luke:2:1-4). Such censuses were not taken in winter, when temperatures often dropped below freezing and roads were in poor condition. Taking a census under such conditions would have been self-defeating.
Now imagine, a census taking place in winter. Would you open the door? I wouldn’t.
Given the difficulties and the desire to bring pagans (these are people who do are neither Christian, Jew nor Muslim) into Christianity, “the important fact then is that the fixing of the date as December 25th was a compromise with paganism.

If Jesus Christ wasn’t born on December 25, does the Bible indicate when He was born? If so, then life would have been easy. Christmas celebrations would have been justified.

The biblical accounts point to the fall of the year as the most likely time of Jesus’ birth, based on the conception and birth of John the Baptist.
Since Elizabeth (John’s mother) was in her sixth month of pregnancy when Jesus was conceived (Luke:1:24-36), we can determine the approximate time of year Jesus was born if we know when John was born. John’s father, Zacharias, was a priest serving in the Jerusalem temple during the course of Abijah (Luke:1:5).

Historical calculations indicate this course of service corresponded to June 13-19 in that year.
It was during this time of temple service that Zacharias learned that he and his wife, Elizabeth, would have a child (Luke:1:8-13). After he completed his service and traveled home, Elizabeth conceived (verses 23-24). Assuming John’s conception took place near the end of June, adding nine months brings us to the end of March as the most likely time for John’s birth. Adding another six months (the difference in ages between John and Jesus) brings us to the end of September as the likely time of Jesus’ birth.

Although it is difficult to determine the first time anyone celebrated December 25 as Christmas Day, historians are in general agreement that it was sometime during the fourth century. This is an amazingly late date. Christmas was not observed in Rome, the capital of the Roman Empire, until about 300 years after Christ’s death. Its origins cannot be traced back to either the teachings or practices of the earliest Christians.

Now, look at how bad things turn out to be during this time. If really, this was the birth of a KING, why then can’t we observe and respect it? Do we need to get drunk, be high on weed or act recklessly during this time? Its just a thought.

twitter @brucencube