Wednesday 6 November 2024

Supertrump

Dear Mr Trump 

Congratulations.

"Any American child can become president of the US", goes the slogan. You prove it true once more. Even a petulant, spoilt brat who throws tantrums and heedlessly destroys things can rise to that lofty peak.

I believe that you have talents and qualities that your detractors don't see. Fortunately the wise, thoughtful patriots do. 

You deal with problems decisively. Here's a random example plucked from my imagination:  lets say an unwise, torrid affair with, for example, a famous actress, came back to haunt your career, I bet you would know exactly how to make thr problem go away. Of course, you would never get yourself into that position, ethical man that you are.

You really are a friend to the friendless. The world sees Kim Jong-un as a rocket loving, cruel despot of the worst kind.  It sees Vladimir as a cold  ruthless, power hungry megalomaniac. You alone see the hidden sterling qualities that lie within like buried treasure. Vladimir invades countries like an overgrown bully, while also bullying his own people into scared submission. Kim starves his people, keeping them in fearful servitude, while he plays with rockets. But we all make mistakes. You are mature and perceptive enough to understand that. You are wise enough to see that within each of these  gentlemen resides a kind, caring person struggling to get out. All that they need is love. And who better to supply it?

Truly  a man of compassion. I am sure that you have already forgiven all your foes and tormentors at home. I know that you would never stoop so low as to use your position to get back at them. There was that thing with Zelensky and the quid pro quo suggestion. But that's the past. As I said, we all make mistakes. Some are just a bit bigger than others.  Clearly you are not a man who bears grudges. I am sure that you have moved on from the days when you gave some advice on a leadership telecast to the effect that leaders should go after those who have wronged them. You're a president now. All grown up. And not of some shithole country but leader of the free, enlightened, civilized, democratic world. I'm confident that you can be relied on to do the right thing. Your record speaks for itself.

I read of at least 24 top ('A team') allies who made startling, damning statements about your character, competence and behaviour.  What the heck do they know? They only worked closely with you for a couple of years. There is no way that they could know you better than the great American voting public. And that public knows you as Supertrump, whizzing in and out of phone booths to take on America's problems, and take down traitors, lefties, communists and woke whack jobs.
 
You said that you would return America to  former glory.  And the world, too.

I know that you will have your hands full next week, deporting truck and bus loads of immigrants, putting a stop to inflation, lowering grocery prices and taxes, stopping wars, dealing with traitors within, healing the sick...sorry, got a bit carried away. But who wouldn't be, after 30 minutes of brilliant rhetoric delivered in those dulcet tones?

Anyway, would you be able to fit our country in the week after that. We could do with some restoring to former glory. Or any glory at all. 

Not only have you made a remarkable comeback but you have also given new hope to a group of people long shunned and despised - convicted felons. Yes they can.

Yours in the struggle for former greatness and former glory.


Richard




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Saturday 2 November 2024

Trumpocracy

 Dear Mr Trump 

It's utterly ridiculous that some people, (probably sick, radical, left lunatics), compare you to Hitler. You are taller, shave regularly and, as far as I know,  don't speak German. You have also never expressed a desire for a road trip to Poland in a tank - or even a garbage truck.

You would be my automatic choice for president if I were an American voter or an illegal immigrant who'd managed to circumvent whatever safeguards are in place.

I know that sounds unlikely, but you've pointed out that the Democratic party machinery is a nest of treacherous, treasonous vipers. Anything can happen. There could even be, heaven forbid, a storming of the Capitol. But I'm sure that, with you on the presidential podium, that sort of attack on democracy would not be tolerated. A thought: now that the treacherous Democrats have soiled and sullied the very name of democracy, should we not call it something ele? 'Trumpocracy' has quite a nice ring to it.

This is not merely an emotional response to your oratory, mesmerizing though it is. I have, like so many of your thoughtful, analytical supporters, carefully considered your utterances and your impeccable track record. I set my reasoning forth for the discerning reader to dissect and come to a reasoned conclusion.

1. Your unequalled skills in international  diplomacy. 

That you would stop the Ukraine war in a day has never been in doubt for me. With a little help from your friends, Vladimir and Kim Jong, both of whom are surely unfairly overlooked candidates for the Nobel Peace prize,  It would be a walk in the car park. It might take you two days, or at most a week, to stop the conflict in the Middle East but stop it you would.  Anyway, that's a much shorter time than our own ANC government would take to have a meeting to arrange further meetings. I see a grateful world acknowledging your leadership, as you extinguish similar fires in various parts of the globe. Sir,  Sudan needs you.

2. Your undisputed leadership skills. 

Who can forget how you despatched unworthy candidates on your 'The Apprentice' show with the immortal phrase 'you are fired'. The record breaking turnover of 'A team' staff during your tenure testifies that you fearlessly continued along that path. Who does not admire a decisive, butt-kicking leader? Apart, of course, from those whose butts are being kicked.

3. Your attention to detail. 

The world would never have known of the macabre dietary habits of Illegal immigrants, involving such ingredients as cat and dog, were it not for your eagle eye and ear to the ground. Is it true that there are many ways to skin a cat? The slitting of the throats of innocent citizens at midnight by nocturnal, illegal immigrants would also have gone unnoticed, were it not for you. I am sure that there is great rejoicing in the land by cat and dog owners. 

4. Your muscular use of language. 

There is no beating around the bush with you. 

You call a whack job a whack job. So refreshing. One looks forward to more of the same as you excoriate the nutters, lefties, communists whack jobs and others who threaten the great American way of life and the right to life, liberty and the wholesome pursuit of happiness. Plus the right to bear automatic rifles.

5. Your common touch.

Who can forget your ride in the garbage truck, so pregnant with symbolism? A friend showed me pictures of you entering and leaving the truck. 'Garbage in, garbage out' was his cryptic comment. I was annoyed and, quoting some of your best work, called him a radical whack job. I look forward to your riding what we euphamistically call a honey sucker truck. This to underline your contempt for those pathetic states that you designated as shithole countries. 

6. Your coolness under fire.

When the assault on the Capitol took place, did you run around in a panic, as lesser leaders would? No, you calmly watched it on TV, according to various sources. After all, you had suggested a peaceful, patriotic march and these things do happen. No sense in going off half-cocked when you can watch it all on TV.  I trust that you had a Bud Light or two and a bowl of peanuts. There were malicious reports about the grabbing of a steering wheel and the destruction of crockery, but those probably came from loony lefties with nothing better to offer. Sir, which hand would we want on the trigger should nuclear war threaten other than your firm, steady, crockery-throwing hand?

Who would not welcome a leader with these qualities to spearhead the battle for democracy in a dangerous world?

Your top South African supporter (second only to Elon) in the struggle for wise, sane, cool-headed leadership.

Richard 




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Wednesday 16 October 2024

Dear Mr Trump

Dear Mr Trump


I heard that you made allegations about illegal immigrants slitting people's throats at midnight.  

Sir, that is utterly ridiculous, absurd. Everyone knows that the best time to slit throats is 2 am. 

Nonetheless, you are certainly making America great again. No droning on about the economy, foreign affairs, (your own affairs far more exciting), or civil rights. I really like your intriguing stories about a cat or dog in every pot. Sir, have you checked that people are not disappearing as well? 'Eating into your support base' may take on a sinister, new meaning.

Your characterization of various states as 'shithole countries' is spot on. Corruption, buffoonery, incompetence, egotistical leadership, attacks on the Capitol  - what could be more lavatorial? The bathroom metaphor was but one example of your poetic talent. Who can forget your: "We will rain down hellfire on you such as you have never seen"? Such luminous imagery. You are indeed a worthy successor to such masterful orators as Churchill, John F Kennedy and Dr Martin Luther King Jr. 

That somewhat aggressive utterance notwithstanding, you really are, at heart, a people's person. People such as Kim Jong Un and Vladimir Putin - as fine specimens of the noblest and best of humanity as can be found anywhere.

I also like your "Yes, I can" approach to....everything. You would have, by your own account, stopped the war in Ukraine in a day. What could you not achieve in a month? If, (heaven forbid), you are again done out of an election victory, you could consider heading up the United Nations. I bet that would put an end to the long-winded, useless, pointless bickering. And they would all pay their dues. The only remaining challenge would be what to do with your prodigious talents once you'd achieved (inevitable) world peace, prosperity and other nice stuff.

Perhaps, like our Mr Zuma, you could lead the charge in the attack on declining moral standards. 

Yours in the struggle for strong, democratic,  Republican leadership.

Richard 




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Tuesday 15 October 2024

The Importance of Being a Victim

 Dear Honourable Dudu 


Thank you. Your wonderful tweet about not being able to speak isiZulu because of Apartheid was typical of the sort of South African satire that writes itself. You called yourself a victim of  Apartheid,  poor dear.

I gave that some thought -  after a  hearty laugh. Your  plaintive cry exemplifies so much of what is wrong in our political landscape and in our  parliament.

You see, dear Honourable Dudu, although I am not a psychologist, I do know that it is almost impossible for those dedicated to victimhood to move on.  It's incredibly difficult to even conceive of doing something positive, innovative, imaginative while victimhood and self-pity cling to you like Durban humidity. 

In the mire of victimhood, there's no room for the needs and difficulties of other people, let alone a country.  But take comfort, you are not alone. I see many of your fellow victims in Parliament,  whose sole contribution seems to be hurling invective and insults, complaining, demanding 'justice' and reparations. (Perhaps read 'revenge' for 'justice').

Dear victims, that is not going to happen. You will cry to the heavens and beat your breasts until, in the words of the great Mr Zuma, Jesus returns. This is because the world and life move on. If reparations were paid for all past wrongs, we would have to crawl a hell of a long way back into history. I notice that you tend to omit the Khoi and San peoples and that's not so far back. A small oversight, perhaps?

Life and opportunity tend to pass you by when  you waste them on cursing and blaming all those that you imagine to be responsible for the moist puddle that you are. You folk remind me of a child, weeping bitterly over a broken toy or a broken adult. promise. So hard to see beyond the immediate disappointment. It seems utterly devastating.

I do hope that you and the comrades grow out of this. But the chances are as close to zero as the temperatures in the coldest parts of the country. You are at the age where you should have outgrown such childish things, so this does not auger well for  future change.  Unfortunately, your many strange, often foolish, often malicious utterings on social media also don't hold out much promise for your growth and maturity. 

The taxpayer doles out a large percentage of salary to keep you in bouts of self-pity and unrighteous indignation.  That's the tragedy of politics in this country. I think that even your perception of your role in politics is coloured, or discoloured by the small, narrow world view of the professional victim. What  can you see through your childish tears and snot, beyond the  broken toys?

It's ironic that you even fail to see how privileged you are. Daughter of a regional demigod-politician, with nothing to recommend her for the role,  parachuted into Parliament as a privileged MP.  Dear Honourable Dudu, it doesn't get better than this.  I doubt that your weeping and gnashing of teeth get in the way of enjoying MP privilege.  Accommodation, free flights, cars, generators to bypass loadshedding 
 and every other comfort that the pampered politician has. In this benighted country,  many would sell a kidney for just a fraction of that privilege. 

Of course, there's the strong possibility that the tears of our victims are of the crocodile variety. That the blame and self-pity game is exactly that - a game played with consummate skill between shopping for Luis Vuitton products and other staples essential to the victim / comrade  / revolutionary lifestyle.

This is not an appeal to your reason, conscience or common sense, none of 
which have shone forth particularly brightly.
 So in the words of Simon and Garfunkel: 

Sail on silver girl 
Sail on by 
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on the way. 

And the rest of South Africa tosses and turns through nightmare. 

I suspect that your period of sailing on will not last long, built as it is on the flimsiest of foundations. Enjoy it while it lasts. 

Yours in the struggle to find the mystical balance between victimhood and privilege.

Richard

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Friday 11 October 2024

Apartheid in the Air

 

“I am sorry, I can't speak isiZulu I am a victim of Apartheid so this is one of the things that happens we don't get to grow up in South Africa and learn our Mother tongue but I'm trying I'm learning” Duduzile Zuma Sambudla-Zuma"

Dear Ms Sambudla-Zuma 

I wholly empathize. 

I could have been a brain surgeon had it not been for Apartheid. Laziness might have played a small part but that's also because of Apartheid. I suppose that I could have worked harder at the science subjects at school but let's not split hairs. As the song, 'That's Apartheid', says:

"When the stuff hits the fan, 

Guess who'll carry the can,

It's Apartheid...."

Perhaps it's not altogether a bad thing, as there's not much demand for brain surgery in South Africa. Judging by the actions and utterances of many South African public figures and their numerous groupies, many, many brains are as good as new - unused. But then again, I could have been a brilliant legal eagle like Mr Dali Mpofu, who would have been knocking them out of the park, were it not for Roman Dutch law. And the judiciary. And, of course, Apartheid.

It's hard work thinking critically, taking responsibility and being honest with oneself. I'm so glad that there's Apartheid to fall back on. It just makes life so simple. That does remind me of another song (tune of 'Love is all Around me'):


I feel it in my fingers 

I feel it in my toes 

Apartheid all around me

And so the feeling goes


Ooh, it's blowing in the wind

It's everywhere I go 


You break your promise to me 

And I break mine to you

Apartheid is the reason

There's nothing I can do 


Your fellow  Zuma praise singer, Prof Moyo,  frequently voids his bow..., pardon, brainwaves, on X. Here's a recent offering:

"President Zuma is truly admirable for his ability to forgive, often extending grace even before it's requested. His daily life echoes the teachings of Jesus, as exemplified in the words: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

President Zuma supported Drip and even after the owner wished him assassination. The President of the people is now working with politicians who insulted him, he simply moved past propaganda. The ethical President Zuma will even give hugs to those who wrote rubbish about him. He sees the bigger picture: It’s about the emancipation of the people and not himself. What kind of a man is this? Indeed Gods greatest gift to SA."

Only true leaders move past slander and hate, focusing instead on unity, progress, and building a future that benefits everyone."

It was an epic struggle to read the entire masterpiece. So hard to concentrate when each line has one howling with disbelieving laughter.


One thing that Apartheid has not succeeded in is to diminish our South African talent for:

1. Talking kak

2. Gleefully inhaling every particle of kak spoken by our heroes

3. Zealously regurgitating said particles of dessicated kak


I am grateful to you, Honourable Daughter, Mr Lesufi and others, who relentlessly hunt down Apartheid in the dark alleyways in which he lurks. Your efforts remind me of the work of Simon Wiesenthal, nazi hunter. I am confident that we will reap the fruits of your heroic labours as crime, homelessness and unemployment become a bad memory because of your work. And the repo rate does whatever is best for the people.


Yours in the unrelenting struggle against Apartheid.

Richard 

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Saturday 5 October 2024

Zumasm

A tweet from the Honourable Daughter:


Let Me Go To uMkhonto Wesizwe Church Of Political Ideology Where We Learn About ZUMASM And Where We Sing Our National Anthem, THINA SIZWE And MHLA SIBUYAYO ✊🏾!!!

President Zuma WILL Live Forever!!!


Dear Honourable Dudu 

I don't know why you felt the need.
to share  with us that you are off on yet another pointless and doubtless crushingly boring little adventure. But your mind does seem to work in mysterious ways if one judges by you many exceedingly strange and increasingly bizarre contributions on X.

I hate to be the one to tell you this. You've heard of the inevitability of death and taxes? While your honoured father might be able to extricate himself from the coils of the latter, there is no doubt whatsoever that the former will have him shuffling off his mortal coil like the rest of us.

If you are learning about zumasm at your church then I should think that both the sermons and the entire series will be short in the extreme. Probably something like:

Lesson 1. Bring me my machine gun. 

Lesson 2. Down with Roman Dutch law.

Lesson 3.  Down with Ramaphosa's ANC.

 Lesson 4.  Down with Abelungu.
 
Lesson 5.  Sound financial management the Zuma way.

Listen 6. Romance, love and the age gap

What are you guys going to do with the rest of the year? Oh you did mention a new national anthem. That should gobble up another Sunday or two.

History has taught us that when the theology, strategy and dogma all centre around one person, there's a very good chance that what we have is a jolly cult.  If that one person has already been thoroughly  discredited, that does make the cult all the more interesting. Also somewhat fragile.

It was probably your eloquence, razor-sharp wit and  keen intellect, (all displayed in the tweet above), that had your party despatching you post-haste to parliament. Yes, we are delighted to see "the best minds of our generation" at work in our legislature. The quality of insults and non-verbal, tactile interaction must surely reach new heights -  or depths. The quality of debate  - that's a different matter. I see the poor, the unemployed, the homeless, uplifted as you sink your teeth into the repo rate and other challenges of our time. We see you Honourable Daughter.

Yours in the struggle to bring sanity, reason and pragmatism into our political milieu.


Richard 

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Sunday 29 September 2024

Durban: Place of Great Burning

Like many of you, I reluctantly left  the warm embrace of Durban's humidity some years ago. I returned recently to find the city much changed. Looking for West Street, I walked up and down Dr Pixley ka Seme street for hours. Then I remembered that we have discarded such relics of colonialism as the English names for the four compass points. And of course we are currently freeing ourselves from the equally cloying embrace of the  neo-colonialist West. Our new comrades may not offer as much trade as the old, but they do offer good vodka, warm comradeship and other important intangibles, vital for life, liberty and the pursuit of elusive happiness.


I wandered into Point Road (now Mahatma Gandhi Road). Once known as a hub for entertainment and cultural exchanges with foreign sailors, Point Road has apparently cleaned up its act. I was, therefore,  shocked to see a sign brazenly advertising Butt Traders. ""Yoh!", I said to myself, which is South African for "Golly!". It turned out that Butt is a surname. I was hugely disapp....,I mean, relieved. My virtue, which I prize as highly as some prize tenders for road name changes, was safe.

Right outside Durban's department of public works building, the paving stones had rebelled against whatever held them down.  They stuck out at interesting, sharp angles, allowing only one person at a time to use the walkway - at own risk. A decaying building next door seemed held together only by the danger tape around it. I wondered how long it had been so.  Probably only a year or two, going on the sterling record of our guardians of the city. Within the public works building, many voices were raised in loud, joyous song. Probably celebrating successes in the battle against raised paving stones and decaying buildings. They sang with the same gusto and bravura that surely must be applied to repairing our ravaged infrastructure. The song seemed to be made up of the same few words sung over and over. All of this was was so quintessentially South Africa today. My heart swelled with patriotic and provincial pride. I couldn't make out the words of the song, but the malady lingers on.

There is an upside to Durban's sad, neglected appearance. Tourists love historical ruins. Durban has got the ruins part right.

Durban people need to stop complaining about elected officials. It's hard to balance looting and other duties. Looting requires far more effort and inventiveness than the dull, soul destroying business of running a metro efficiently. One can understand how the artistic souls of our best are engaged, transfix̌ed, captured.  Was ever a muse so fair as money? Water, electricity, services - these things are ephemeral but the monuments to looting, like all great art, live on forever. Well, at least a hell of a long time.

To celebrate the national sport of looting, here's borrowing from well-known literature:

Fragments from the Misiderata (apologies to Max Ehrmann):

Go stealthily amid the noise and the haste, and remember what joy there may be in looting . As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all victims......

Avoid honest and ethical persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare your loot with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser looters than yourself.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the kleptoverse no less than the thieves and the tsotsis; you have a right to be here...

Fragments from If - The Looters' Version (apologies to the Kipling bloke):

If you can keep your loot when all about you   
 
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   
If you can trust the Cause when all men doubt it,....

If you can talk with crowds and know your slogans,   
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the sticky touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
Simply because you know too much....

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of looting done,   
Yours is this land and everything that’s in it,   
And—which is more—you’ll be a party Man, my son!

I encourage you to visit the great coastal city of Durban. Some useful information:


Relief from heat and cloying humidity comes from cool ocean breezes scented with the  exotic perfume of Durban's finest zol (marijuana). It was this heady mix that had NDZ exclaim in poetic rapture on the mysteries of zol and saliva.

The people of Durban and KZN are renowned for their political astuteness, farsightedness and loyalty to the chess loving Mr Bojangles of KZN politics (Lord, that man could dance!). They are also very fair-minded and tend to give discredited politicians many opportunities to discredit themselves further. During the last municipal elections, a mayor, who had not covered himself in glory during the looting and other jolly stuff that took place in 2021, was speedily re-elected.  Ms Gumede, of solid waste tender fame, who some said had covered herself in….. something else, also took her rightful place. “KZN is f&*^%d”, wrote an angry, disgusted resident. Durban people can be so melodramatic. That’s going too far. Buggered, yes. 

Spirituality is also important to the people of KZN. Not all that long ago, our pious ANC comrades proposed a ceremony to cleanse KZN of bad spirits from the Anglo-Boer war, who are supposedly behind the violence and murders in the province. During KZN's many wars, scuffles and tussles, people of all hues stabbed, shot and generally donnered one another. But it just had to be the white spirits still stirring it up, didn't it? Can't take these white folks anywhere. One of my many uncouth friends suggested that a quite different sort of white spirit led to this proposal. 

In 2021 Durban literally became The Place of Great Burning, during the troubles. This was when His Former Excellency was offered state accommodation in Estcourt, no passing ‘Begin’, no collecting R200. 

Imagine this, thirty years later:

A grandfather regales his grandchildren with tales of that struggle. Driven by hunger and revolutionary fervour, he acquired a large screen TV set (which still takes pride of place in the lounge) and was able to assuage his hunger with large helpings of MasterChef Australia. The grandchildren are enchanted by the tales of derring do. 

"Yes, my children." With a grand sweep of his arm, Grandpa takes in the scenery outside. Burnt trucks litter the verges of the roads, blackened skeletons of buildings dot the green countryside.

"And one day, all this will be yours."



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