The Chronicles Of Jayzed

The Chronicles Of Jayzed

Wednesday, September 20th, 2017

In the Beloved Land, in the years of the reign of King Embeki, there was strife among the chieftains. At that time (about 13H00, Harare time), there came forth out of the tribe of the Ancites a warrior called Jayzed, fair of countenance and a mirthful man. He sang and danced before the people and did please them greatly. Then they cried out with one voice: ‘Let Jayzed be king!’ And lo, it came to pass. The chieftains and the people banded together and wrested the throne from King Embeki and sent him forth from the city gates to wander in the northern desert lands.

The people rejoiced with song, dance and feasting.And Jayzed prophesied that the Ancites would rule until the end of the age (for he was a man of great learning, able to interpret and divine the hidden things)
And Jayzed took unto himself several wives and concubines, for many maidens swooned when he sang and danced. And he caused a palace to be built in the fair land of rolling hills. All who passed by did marvel at the king’s palace and the miraculous pool in which he bathed (for cleanliness was near to his heart). The king also gathered unto himself many asses. Herds and flocks, too, he gathered. 

But there was yet strife in the land. Among the vineyards of the western land dwelt the tribe of the Daites. They were makers of wine and fishers who went down to the sea. The daughter of Zilla ruled over them and she stirred them up, saying: “Let us make war upon King Jayzed, for he will bring the land to nought.” And it came to pass that many battles were fought in diverse places in the land. But the Daites were few in number and the armies of the king prevailed. And they mocked the Daites, calling them jackals, winebibbers and all manner of names. As for the daughter of Zilla, the ministers, concillors and chieftains heaped insults upon her head, proclaiming it abroad that she was a witch. Yet the daughter of Zilla ceased not to fight and to this day, she has not sheathed her sword. 

The Copites also stood forth to make ready for war. Then their rulers, the son of Shilowar and the son of Lakotar did quarrel on the field of battle. Their army was scattered and many warriors returned to their lands and their herds and flocks. 

Then Jayzed looked about him and said: “My enemies have all been vanquished and who can stand against me?” And the king did what was right in his own eyes for he cast down those ministers who displeased him and raised up others who pleased him. One whose fame spread throughout the land was the son of Royan. He was keeper of the king’s treasures, a man of astonishing wisdom, who accomplished so much in three days that the king bade him take his ease at his right hand. But the son of Gordan displeased the king. He stood before the king, the ministers and the chieftains and cried out in a loud voice: “This is not a good thing that you do. You dwell in marbled palaces, eat of the choicest meats and ride in fine chariots while the people stumble under the yoke of poverty,”  The king gnashed his teeth and sunto his councillors: “This man is become a thorn in my flesh.” So they brought forth witnesses against the son of Gordan and heaped accusations upon his head. And as the son of Gordan fought in battle in the far off Anglite lands, the king sent for him and caused him to be forever banished from his courts. And the king raised up another in his place, whose name the chronicles do not record, for he did no deeds of valour.

Thus the king Jayzed did cast down and raise up until his spirit was at peace. Then dwelt the king at ease with his wives, children, herds and flocks.

But lo, in the early years of the reign of Jayzed, there arose in the land a great famine. The people groaned under the yoke of taxes, rising prices, inefficiency, corruption and rumours of corruption. Some did murmur that the vision had fled the land.And they cried out to Jayzed: ‘Give us bread. Give us work. Give us… something.’ And Jayzed giggled.

Then he rose up from his throne in the place of green hills and cane fields, girded his famed loins and proclaimed: ‘This people does trouble me with many cries and protestations. I shall give them stories, magic, song and dance that they may be filled and trouble me no more.’ (For he was gifted in every art of entertainment).
Then the king travelled the land with his faithful companions, telling in song, dance and stories of the wondrous things to be accomplished in the kingdom. Boldly, the king proclaimed that the glories of the rule of the Ancites would be told in song for years to come. The people did marvel and sang his praises, saying: ‘ Truly, this is a man of the people.’

But there came forth messengers from the north with news of a mighty, warlike tribe in the hills of Saxonworld. ‘Behold’, they cried. ‘These men do make war and plunder the land from east to west. They have plundered dairy herds and milk the very earth of its treasures.’ Some murmured that the king was joined in alliance with the Gupterites (for so they were called, having travelled from a distant land to the east). But Jayzed laughed them to scorn.
But a rumour spread throughout the land that  scrolls had been found whereon the names of those allied to the Gupterites were inscribed. Many secret things also were inscribed upon the scrolls.  And many chieftains swore that they knew not of these things. As for the king, he swore by his wives and children that he knew not of the secrets of the Gupterites. In truth, he did deny it thrice. ‘Nothing, nothing, nothing,’ he proclaimed before all the people. But the anger of the people burned hot against the Gupterites and their allies.

Then came forth two mighty warriors, Juju of the Effites and El Mmusi of the Daite tribe. And their armies joined battle with the king’s army upon the plain of Parliament, a desolate place, filled with the cries of carrion birds and the rushing of the wind. For many days and nights the armies did battle but Jayzed’s army prevailed, for they were a great multitude. They smote the Effites and Daites upon the plain until they withdrew to fight again another day. But the king was sore wounded in the battle, for an arrow pierced his hindmost parts. From that time forth, he sat uneasily upon the throne.
The armies of the king rejoiced with feasting, music and merriement. 

But Jayzed was troubled in spirit, for a dark cloud overshadowed the land. Some of the Ancite chieftains did turn their backs upon Jayzed, saying: ‘This man rules not wisely nor well. He consorts with strange fellows and the noble name of our tribe is become a jest upon the lips of drunkards.’ The daughter of Kozar was one such, a woman of wisdom, valour and beauty. But the chieftains rose up in anger, saying: “This woman has partaken of much wine or strange herbs and speaks what she knows not.” She too, they cast out and the gates of the city were shut against her. Of the valiant deeds of the daughter of Kozar and the son of Gordan, the chronicles have much to tell. Nor do the chronicles forbear to tell of the daughter of Donsella, a warrior of renown, who ceased not from battle though the archers of the king rained fiery arrows upon her, as though the floodgates of the heavens themselves were thrown open. And of other warriors of renown, much may be found in the chronicles.

Some still clove to the king; many chieftains, his sons and kinsmen. One of his kinsmen, Kul U Busayi grew large in the land, for he enlarged his boundaries with many herds, flocks and much treasure. He cared not that some of the people murmered against him and his companions but spent his days feasting and drinking with gladness of heart. The sons of Jayzed also waxed fat in the land. One became a prophet, wandering the land and, in a loud voice,  uttering warnings against the foes of his father. Yet some heaped scorn upon his head,saying:”This fellow is no prophet but a hollow reed, through which every passing wind blows.” Yet he ceased not to cry out as one possessed of an unquiet spirit. Of the sons and kinsmen of Jayzed, the chronicles tell no more, for some said that they were but shadows of the king.

Now upon the king there came a heaviness of spirit. The Ancites began to quarrel among themselves. In council, swords were drawn and shields buffeted. Even the chief counsellors of the king began to utter words of warning and prophecy. Among them were Ram Pozaar and Mantasheer, he whose voice was likened unto the distant thunder of a summer storm. In the market places, where the people gathered, some murmered against Jayzed and the Ancites. Others cursed them openly. And it seemed to the king that to their numbers were added daily. The people rose up and stopped the wells of the Gupterites, saying:’These men live off the fat of our land while we languish in want. Away with them!”. And the Gupterites took their herds and flocks to a distant land and withdrew into the caves of Saxonworld, for they feared that the fat years, the years of wine and laughter, were fading.

And indeed, the king did long for the counsel of wise men like Embeki. As for the former king, he was welcomed into the courts and councils in the northern lands, for they sought his wise counsel. And he lived out his days in peace among the kings and peoples of the desert lands.

But as for Jayzed, it was as when the leaves of summer wither on the branch and the winds blow cold upon the land. The wise men and the scribes meditated daily upon the scrolls of the Gupterites  (so numerous were the scrolls), and they vexed the king sore with a multitude of questions and charges concerning that tribe. At that time also rose up Nezemande, once a close companion of the king but as his sword was drawn, the king broke asunder the blade with a mighty blow, for he was yet a cunning warrior. The armies of the Daites and the Effites were gathering anew. More blood would flow upon the Plain of Parliament and in diverse parts of the land.

Some called upon the king to lay down his crown. And many officers and chieftains who did dance in the streets with him in his day of triumph, now bitterly repented them of their hot hearts and heads. Some there were that would have had him bound in chains and cast into a dungeon with the thieves and vagabonds. Others proclaimed loudly that the rule of Jayzed would be soon ended. But these things are in the future, where none may journey while the breath of life is in him.

The rest of the chronicles of Jayzed are told in the history of the Beloved Land, for her people were yet to suffer much before the days of peace.

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Spiritual

Spiritual

Tuesday, January 21st, 2020

Dear Mr Mantashe

Is something afoot in the ANC?

First, the former president intimated that he had special knowledge regarding end times. Now you apparently quoted tbe words of Jesus Christ: “I am the way. I am the truth.” You were humble and realistic enough not to include “the life”.

Have you guys “got religion”? Can we expect political meetings to now kick off with some inspirational words from the Good Book? How about “Show me a righteous ruler and I will show you a happy people. Show me a wicked ruler and I will show you a miserable people.” from Proverbs, just to set the tone?

One could argue that you are a way. It’s just not terribly clear to what. As for the truth, where your party is concerned, Pilate’s words resonate: “What is truth?”.

Fortunately, these verses from Isaiah do not apply.
Your rulers are rebels And companions of thieves; Everyone loves a bribe And chases after rewards They do not defend the orphan, Nor does the widow’s plea come before them.
They don’t, do they?

At any rate, I am glad if you chaps are becoming interested in matters spiritual. In the words of Cat Stevens, it’s a wild world. One needs an anchor, a shelter from the ever - blowing storm.

Vaya con Dios.

Yours in the lifelong struggle for spiritual enlightenment.

Richard

FART Thanks Ruling Party

FART Thanks Ruling Party
Sunday, May 31st, 2020

Dear Ruling Party

I, Honest Joe, chairperson of the Federation of Alternative Retail Traders (FART), wish to convey our sincere thanks and appreciation.

My WhatsApp and assorted messaging apps have never been this busy. Business is booming. My spouse even suspected that I was heavily involved in extramarital shenanigans. Fortunately, I was able to convince her, before she contacted ‘Uyajola’, that’s it’s just business, not personal.

It has been proven beyond a doubt that in South Africa ‘n boer maak ‘n plan - and so do the smokers and connoisseurs of fine liquors. Of course, this was inevitable. Our market research and scenarios sketched by our futurists clearly indicated that the mother of bull markets was on its way. I’m sure you do similar stuff.

Take nicotine. The stuff is addictive. This is not the US Marines. All those smokers were clearly not going to snap to attention and yell ‘Sir, yes sir’. I’m sure that all those wise heads realized that. We see ourselves as providing a valuable service at a modest profit. Angels of mercy may not be stretching it too far. At a fee, of course. Who knows what desperate smokers may resort to? Consider us the buffer between society and a potential Boxer Tobacco rebellion.

We have been empowered as never before. It goes without saying that some of the profits will be ploughed into our social responsibility fund, once we get around to putting one together.

You have our vote in the next election.

Yours in the struggle for ethical business practice.

Honest Joe
Chairperson: FART

The Queen's Speech

The Queen’s Speech
Sunday, August 6th, 2017

Dear Ms Faith Muthambi

Congratulations on making the front page of the Sunday Times.

It is said that faith can move mountains. You moved half a small suburb to listen to your budget speech. It must have been every bit as dramatic as the king’s speech, depicted in the Oscar Award winning movie. Clearly, you wished as many people as possible to be edified. I can see you at the lectern, commanding the room, the audience hushed and awed, hanging onto your lips as pearls of wisdom tumble from them. A speech to make Mark Antony green with envy. I am sure that your gems of eloquence are even now reverberating around the world. Please let me have a print copy of your inspired speech. I am keen to set it to music. Perhaps an African operetta, with Morgan Freeman in a starring role?

I do hope that CNN and the BBC were present on the historic occasion. My only question is why you did not invite more people to attend. I am sure that you developed a large network when you were communications minister. You made the news back then also, didn’t you? Also on Twitter more recently with allegations of having had ’sharing is caring’ moments with the Saxonworld family. At least you are an example of a disciplined member of your organisation.

Back to your watershed budget speech. There was a worrying sequel as atypical transient global amnesia struck with a vengeance. Some of your guests could not remember where they stayed or who paid. That does sound like a seriously advanced stage of the affliction. My heart goes out to the afflicted. Apparently, so does my wallet, as this delightful outing was allegedly funded by the ever - willing taxpayer. Do let us know when next the spirit of eloquence moves you and we taxpayers will see what we can do (perhaps also move). I am sure that many South Africans would love to attend your next adventure, bathing in the effulgence of your wisdom, oratory and personality.

Yours in the quest for memorable budget speeches.

Richard

Sherlock, Read And Weep

Sherlock, Read And Weep
Wednesday, January 22nd, 2020

Dear SAPS

Congratulations.

You once detained two sisters based on their looking foreign. At the time, I was awestruck at the skills, technology and methods of detection that you’ve clearly been developing quietly. (Reported in ‘The Unusual Suspects ‘). I imagine that you have a Langley - type training facility. Possibly in a remote area such as the Pofadder outskirts.

I am delighted to note that you have ‘upped your game’. A policeman handcuffed and searched a suspect based on ‘body behaviour’,

“They looked very suspicious, looking around and talking the whole time,” testified the policeman.

I must admit that I would also be highly suspicious of anyone who talked the whole time. What about listening? And breathing?

Dear fellow South Africans, I recommend that you keep your eyes fixed on a spot in the distance straight ahead, at the approach of any law enforcement officer. If you are sightseeing, please suspend activities until the police have left the building. If you must speak, try to stay with monosyllabic utterances. I think sign language is in order.

The next tip could save you an enormous amount of trouble (and having to rub your wrists to restore circulation). Whatever you do, do not scratch the back of your head. The forehead might be acceptable but I’d refrain, just to be safe. Apparently the suspect ‘reached behind his head and scratched it’ (the head, one assumes), when the officer approached him. Yes, that does sound like the clincher - about as close to an admission of guilt as one can get.

“As I explained, body behaviour says a lot. I’ve been doing this job for 13 years.” said the eagle - eyed officer.

Sir, may I suggest the following:
anatomical charts, videos and posters to help the general public identify suspects promptly,
intensive training for community policing forums

I see us smashing the syndicates and gangs and rounding up villains with astonishing speed. The recent cash heist, allegedly carried out by equal - opportunity seeking women, could probably have been prevented. If only an alert member of the public had spotted the giveaway tummy or backside scratching in time.

At least we are on the way to remarkable breakthroughs in crime detection. Take that. FBI, with your plodding, tortoise - speed techniques.

Viva SAPS.

Yours in the grim struggle against crime.

Richard

The Malady Lingers On

The Malady Lingers On
Wednesday, August 16th, 2017

Dear Mr President For Now
I was so delighted that you survived that insulting vote of no confidence affair, that I celebrated with a large helping of our national dish, KFC. Of course, I have every confidence that you will continue to entertain us with song, dance, magic, mystery and enthralling stories. I admire that Mmusi chap in the other party for his fine qualities but he is not a patch on you in the real business of politics in our country, namely, showbiz, smoke and mirrors. By the way, it is still our country, isn’t it? We haven’t done a basement bargain deal with those wise men from the East yet? I wonder if they spotted their potential friends and croni…, sorry allies, like that bright star, before they even loaded their camels. One can’t help but be reminded of the original wise men, except for the direction in which the gifts have been flowing. Of course, we are grateful to them for the paradigm shift in the recruitment business in South Africa. We must be the only country in the world where cabinet ministers and other key public figures are properly interviewed, reference checked, etc.

Musi and his crowd would probably turn our country into a deadly dull copy of Sweden, with their blinkered focus on service delivery. What boring lives we would lead. They would probably close down the Saxonworld shebeen immediately. That reminds me: could we celebrate your victory soon at that fine establishment? I’d like to invite Hlaudi, the Family, Messrs Koko and Zwane, as well as other deserving heroes and heroines. I need to thank all of you for making my job so easy. I suggest a toast in stout; something dark and bitter, as befits the occasion.

All that remains then is to root out those members who dared to act on the outlandish notion of voting according to conscience. How dare they even have a conscience? The lack of discipline in evidence these days is most disturbing. Stalin would never have tolerated such subversive nonsense. I heard some talk about use of lie detectors but, for most politicians,wouldn’t that be akin to using a metal detector to sniff out a particular nut in a scrapyard. Why reinvent the rack and the thumbscrew? The old ways have not failed you to date, so why break with a good, solid tradition?

Mr President, the song may have lost some of its fire, but the malady, er melody, lingers on.

Yours in the struggle to survive.

Richard

Grace On Fire

Grace On Fire
Friday, August 18th, 2017

Dear First Lady

My admiration for you has not merely grown but mushroomed like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion.

There we were, thinking that all you ever did was shop at Harrods and its Zimbabwean equivalent (apart from sorting out the odd, troublesome vice-president, that is).

With the suddenness of a lightning strike out of a clear sky, you have revealed a hitherto hidden, yet fascinating facet. I had no idea that you were a ZSEAL of supreme skill and talent. For those less familiar with military terminology. a member of the Zimbabwean Sea, Air And Land teams, similar to the US navy SEALS. Obviously, far superior, as you have so astonishingly demonstrated.

Your daring raid into the dark and dangerous terrain of Sandton hotels makes the SEAL raid on Osama’s compound look like the Teddy Bears’ picnic by comparison.

You had no need of helicopter gunships, support teams or even weapons as you slipped into and out of the secret war zone under the very noses of officialdom. The raid was planned and executed with the sublime simplicity characteristic of the great, historic commando raids. How bitterly the Israelis must regret not having consulted you about Entebbe.

Not being one to waste opportunity, I have already discussed with JZ, Donald and the British premier with the forgettable name how we might organise the joint training of our special forces under your gracious supervision. I could not help but notice that you are also an expert in the mysterious martial art of improvised weapons. I am sure that a teaspoon or salt cellar in your hands would have been just as effective as the cord or cabling that I read about.No wonder you had no need of anything as crude as smuggled weapons or caches in Sandton townhouses. Incidentally, you have given a whole new flavour to the concept of cable news. Without revealing military secrets, would you care to share with us what dan you have achieved in this arcane style of fighting?

Grace Under Fire is a popular TV series. Grace On Fire will eclipse it. Finding a lead actress who is a composite of Grace Jones, Chuck Norris and Angelina Jolie will pose some challenges. After all, a woman of your talent is as rare as an ANC minister who admits to having a cosy relationship with the Family. We are holding our breath.

Talking of breath, the mere thought of your meticulous planning, cool courage and awesome fighting skills takes mine away.

Breathlessly yours in support of elite fighting men and women.

Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

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O Tichmann 

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Wait, There's More...

Wait, There’s More…
Monday, August 28th, 2017

I saw an advertisement for a secret fat burner. Is there secret fat? Why would anyone want to burn it if it’s secret?

Thought we’d take another break from politics. My head swims. Just when I thought I’d seen it all with JZ, Hlaudi, Uncle Bob and the whole gang, along comes Princess Grace, Southern Africa’s own iron lady and highly trained SZEAL. Her cross - border raid will surely adorn the pages of history books alongside the Jamieson Raid, among others.

Almost as fascinating are some of the advertisements I’ve seen lately. One of the older ones boldly, announced that ‘nothing sucks like Electrolux’. What were they thinking? Were they thinking?

Among my favourites are advertisements like the one punting a magical ring that will give you anything you want. Stuff and nonsense. I saw Frodo burn that ring. I responded to the short boys and rats advertisement, but have yet to take delivery of the promised R565674.55. I did see a rat once in my kitchen but delivering money seemed to be the last thing on his mind. I did wonder, after despatching him to the rat equivalent of paradise (a sort of celestial downtown Jo’burg?), whether I might have made a ghastly mistake. As for short boys. I have seen lots of them but they were all on their way to school. I wait in anticipation.

Facebook is full of advertisements promising anything from 100% to 500% profit on your R300 investment after two days or a week, if you join the Siyizigebengu or other group. One’s chances are about the same as Hlaudi’s for the presidency, JZ’s for honourary DA membership for life and Uncle Bob’s for a knighthood.

There is a ‘double the data’ advertisement from a cellphone company but I missed the ‘none of the data’ advertisement from the other provider. Charming advertisement from SARS, featuring a gentleman wearing the latest in handcuffs. They are clearly very knowledgeable on motivational theory, perhaps the latest North Korean research findings? Or is it the Trump school of leadership thought? I have tried the gum, sweets, cold drinks. No explosions of colour (just a bottle once, left too long in the freezer), no refreshing showers, gigantic bouncing balls, bracing breezes through my thinning hair - nada. Not one to give up easily. I am going out to buy all of those products again and this time, I will read the directions more carefully

The advertisement I would love to see on South African television (maybe ANN7, Mr Manyi?), would go something like:

‘If you join our party today, we will deliver to you hard working, committed, communicative candidates, without the bull droppings

Wait, there’s more. If you call within the next hour, we will throw in regular constituency feedback meetings, without the bull droppings.

There’s more, if you call now, we promise to serve and protect your rights to the very best of our ability.

There’s more…’

Incidentally, I loved the ANC’s scorecard on the opposition. Rather like the class dunce scoring his classmates.

Finally, is it just me or is there something fundamentally unhinged about people who advertise abortions and male member enlargement side by side on the same poster?

We have the Loerie Awards for excellence in advertising. I propose a pigeon droppings award in tandem.

As promised, no politics.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

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O Tichmann 

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Respect

Respect
January 24th, 2020 by richardjmann

Dear Mr Trump

Shocking, outrageous, barbaric! How dare that Iranian MP offer a reward of three million for your head.

Why, sir, your hair alone is worth more than that. I would summon their ambassador right away. Ah, but then there probably isn’t one in the US. No problem. I would grab any likely looking Iranian off the sidewalk, have him on the (Persian) carpet and tell him what I think of that insolently cheap offer. Also the horrific notion of assassinating citizens of a foreign country. I am sure that the message would get back. You know the Iranians. I would reserve that poetic bit about raining down hellfire for a more appropriate moment and audience. After all, timing is everything in politics and in showbiz (same thing, essentially).

Sir, equally insulting is that the offer was made by a mere MP. One might have been less outraged had he been, at least, a cabinet minister. Not saying that one would approve. We are not talking about the head of some sh…le country here. Leader of the free world and a Jedi of the Twittersphere to boot. I look forward to your firing off a brace of fiery tweets soon (please be very mindful of which keys you are hitting).

Mr Trump, until they come up with a price worthy of your standing in the political and financial worlds, i would cut off all further communication with them.
I would also ensure that Iran has no access to Disney movies, KFC or any of the other essentials that your great nation delivers to a grateful (with the exception of Iran) world. See how they get along without those!

Yours in the struggle for due respect.

Richard

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A Passage To India

A Passage To India
Thursday, July 6th, 2017

Dear Mr Zwane

I was most distressed to learn that you have been ill. My KFC bucket lay untouched for an entire five minutes, as I processed this disturbing news. After all, as our Mineral Resources Minister (and a resourceful one at that), so much depends on you. We cannot afford to run short of coal from the family - pardon – the mines. Had you been education minister, for example, my concern would have been less intense, as that particular portfolio appears to carry less weight in South Africa.

I was therefore delighted to learn that a philanthropic family in Saxonworld (so renamed in their honour), flew you to India for the highest quality medical care. I am hugely impressed that, despite your condition, you were still able to persuade those Swiss chocolatiers to sign a pioneering mining deal. Reminds me of Sir Francis Drake: “Let’s finish the bowls then deal with the Spaniards.” Yours would be something along the lines of: “Let’s finish the deal, then deal with this wretched illness.” The heroic spirit lives on. I am not sure whether you were at death’s door at the time or merely strolling down the garden path in that general direction. I do not, of course, wish to pry into such sensitive, private information. Unlike the Saxonworld Samaritans, I do not have the necessary medical skill, knowledge or qualifications. I understand that they received a copy of the medical report and can imagine them gravely nodding as they pored over it. Doubtless they were able to assist the medical team with pearls of wisdom and knowledge. i

The concern and compassion of these worthies cannot go unmentioned. A gravely ill man cannot be exposed to the rigours of commercial first or business class. Who knows how much the private flight and five star accommodation contributed to your recovery. You have recovered, I trust?

It is most unfortunate that you were later visited by that dreaded affliction that discomforts so many of us. I refer to the atypical transient global amnesia of which I wrote to Mr Koko (cannot remember which year), a fellow sufferer. It seems that all memory of your happy dealings with the Saxonworld folk was erased from your memory by this vile scourge of people in responsible positions. While I empathize, I am also grateful that once more, evidence of this elephant in the room, or in the consulting room, has surfaced. When, oh when, will the medical fraternity awake to this dire threat to mental health?

In partial answer to that smouldering question, I have decided to gird the relevant loins and step up to the wicket. My research has shown that a llama in a remote part of remote Tibet has stumbled upon an ancient herbal cure (marijuana afforded only temporary relief). I am willing to be a guinea pig in the fight against this pandemic in the making. I will soon launch an appeal for travel funds. Business class and Holiday Inn will suffice. As healthy nutrition is an important part of the recovery process, I have secured sponsorship in kind from KFC. Tripe Are Us have followed suit. The head office of this uniquely South African franchise is outside the Bree Street taxi rank and the lively, artistic chef can be found laboring over his skottle on any afternoon. Incidentally, despite his humble surroundings, he is in contact with giants in the culinary sphere. (He once invited Paul Bocuse to be a Facebook Friend and is in his second year of waiting for a reply)

I will certainly not take sole credit (cash, yes) for the success of this mission, once accomplished. Generous South Africans will have the Nobel Prize dedicated to them. Should the Saxonworld Samaritans contribute as generously as they are said to have done to other causes, theirs will be a special mention.

Yours in the quest for mental health.

Richard

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The Struggle Against Microorganisms Continues

February 6th, 2020 by richardjmann

Dear Mr Zuma

I don’t understand why people don’t leave you in peace; apart, that is, from the small matter of a couple of charges.

You cannot visit a bank without it becoming national news. I am surprised that we haven’t seen a headline proclaiming; ‘Zuma in bathroom visit’. Now you cannot even be ill in peace.

 Those of a cynical, suspicious disposition question the timing of your bout of ill health. Since when did viruses, germs and other nasty little creatures respect our timetables? Even schoolchildren know that the nasty little buggers have no manners. I was often ill just before and during difficult school tests. Odd, I know, but I put it down to one of life’s great, insoluble mysteries. Not unlike the question of whether state capture was ‘just people talking to one another” or ‘just people doing things with one another’. (Please do not misinterpret the last). 

There are so many little creatures queuing up to have a go at our immune systems that it’s surprising we’re not ill every day. I do have a friend who regularly uses up the 30 day sick leave allotment every 3 years. He has taken to golf, which seems to have a beneficial effect. Again, one of life’s mysteries.

Sir, I think it very responsible of you to avoid releasing germs and other doodads into packed courtrooms. The press would hammer you, if, for example, you had (God forbid) the Corona virus. I can see the malicious headlines: ‘Zuma wipes out courtroom’, “Last judgement” etc.

Sir, may I also recommend some doctors of my acquaintance who truly understand the human condition in all its complexity. They are quite ready to provide a medical certificate for conditions that your average, less experienced doctor may fail to identity. Their fees are slightly higher but one pays for expertise.They are the few and the brave who acknowledge that the memory lapses (or chasms) lately so prevalent among politicians and SOE employees may well be the result of atypical transient global amnesia.

Sir, I wish you a speedy or leisurely recovery, depending on your preference.

Yours in the struggle against small, troublesome organisms.

Richard

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Lawman

Lawman

Monday, July 10th, 2017

Dear Mr Mbalula

You are my kind of minister. It’s about time we had a ‘make my day’, ‘head them off at the pass’ kind of minister in this portfolio. Ever since you encouraged our Springbok rugby team to ‘moer’ the world cup opposition, I knew that you were destined for great things.

I see you as a composite of John Wayne, Clint Eastwood in Dirty Harry and a more articulate Rambo. May I suggest that you complete the branding with a magnum (gun, not champagne), some Dirty Harry - type checked suits and a fashionable shoulder holster. Would you mind if we nicknamed you ‘The Duke’. I think it’s a bit more dignified than Dirty Fikile.

The way in which you encouraged those parliamentarians to vote according to conscience - yours, not theirs - gives me the warm assurance that you will be taking no nonsense from villains.  I read that you mentioned disciplinary action in passing. May I suggest that you occasionally carry a cat o’ nine tails into the house; not to use, mind you, just as a symbolic reminder to any rebellious individuals who may want to challenge your undoubted authority.  If you can handle those difficult parliamentarians, then no villain could possibly be a match for you and your finest.

I am sure that the force will be treated to some stirring speeches. Please do not quote the ’shoot the bastards’ line used once before. There is no evidence that most villains were born out of wedlock and it may confuse our harassed police if a villain were to suddenly brandish birth and marriage certificates during a shootout.

Someone tweeted recently that you sometimes do not think when you speak. He is horribly mistaken - it happens all the time. That was just a joke, Mr Minister. Of course you think before you speak - just a bit differently. As do many men of vigour and action. Donald also does not think when he speaks. I think he does so long after. Nevertheless, he is building, if not a great nation, at least a great wall. To those who accuse you of such things, I say: “Does Rambo think when he speaks? Does Rambo speak?”

Incidentally, as you used to head the sports portfolio and have great relationships with various sporting figures, would you consider perhaps getting some of your differently shaped members of the force to scrum down with the Boks at practice? They do inspire more confidence when the uniforms actually fit. I would also suggest that you regularly show various Clint Eastwood movies to your men during team building and training exercises. If they can get the menacing drawl and slit - eyed stare right, we will probably see a drastic reduction in crime.

Burt Lancaster starred in a popular western called ‘Lawman’ a long time ago. Your oratory could be the equivalent of his blazing six-gun as you stalk through our own Wild West, rooting out lawlessness. I am sure that your threa.., sorry, encouragement to those politicians had them shaking in their fashionable shoes. You might also want to borrow from ‘Year of the Dragon’, where Mickey Rourke famously announces his entrance as police chief with ‘There’s a new sheriff in town’. You could also use excerpts of his first speech to his men. ‘I know that you have scar tissue on your souls’ could be adapted for some of our municipal police to ‘I know that you have scar tissue on your stomachs.’

We look forward to interesting times with you cleaning up the ‘town’ as Burt, Clint, Rambo and John Wayne would have, scattering wisecracks, quotable quotes and warnings as you go.

May the Force be with you.

Richard

Smoking Gun

Smoking Gun

May 25th, 2020 by richardjmann

Dear Mr Cele

As I puffed on a legal cigarette, for which I have a printed receipt, I meditated on your brilliant strategy for keeping us South Africans safe and secure.

Now that all other crimes have shrunk to a trifling few thousand, you have turned your attention to those cunning, subtle villains, the smokers. I have no doubt that none of them will escape the long, octopus - like arm of the law, as your gallant forces demand receipts from those hordes of hardened criminals. Receipts which they will be unable to produce unless a black market in forged receipts springs up. Of course, you most probably already have contingency plans for such dastardly schemes. I can see crack teams of detectives doggedly following paper trails as they track the wicked to their gloomy lairs. One looks forward to your next presentation of crime statistics. ‘10 000 illegal smokers arrested, false receipts factories uncovered in 8 provinces’ etc. I envision a new South Africa, swept free of crime. Honest citizens will be able to walk the streets (between 5H01 and 19H59), without fear of nicotine-tainted wisps of smoke.

With such allies as the redoubtable NDZ and Ms Duarte, you cannot fail. Corona virus, murder, armed robbery - they obviously all pale besides the horrendous crime of illegal smoking. We must get these things into perspective. After all, our leadership is nothing if not logical. Sir, will there be rewards for exposing puffing neighbours and friends? That seems to have worked quite well in the Soviet Union and other people’s paradises.I feel a surge of patriotism coming on (and am a bit short of the ready for essentials such as cig.., sorry, toilet paper).

A little digression: following on that much talked-about press conference, it does seem the masks have a usefulness above and beyond protection from the virus. (Remember: the alleged E Cape gas leak?).

Yours in the grim struggle to maintain law and order.

Richard

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The Party

The Party
Sunday, July 23rd, 2017

Dear Mr President

You are still president, aren’t you? For now. I missed the news last night and things change so quickly.

One of your team commented that you all emerged from the ANC policy conference filled with vigour Most people emerge from policy sessions dazed and bleary-eyed and I am glad that you are made of sterner stuff. Now that you are all like the Eveready rabbit, we trust that there will be fewer of those sweet pictures of people dozing in the house. Of course, I imagine that your policy conferences are quite different. Peter Sellers starred in a hilarious comedy called The Party, many years ago. You have people who could teach him a thing or two about comedy. Des is just one who springs to mind. The ‘One Minute Manager’ was a huge hit in business circles. I imagine that : The ‘One Weekend Minister’ will do even better and look forward to the book launch. One would also expect that you livened things up considerably, with song, dance, magic tricks and illusions, what with your talent for all of those.I can picture you plucking R200 notes from behind Gigaba’s ears. Now if you could only teach him how to pluck them out of thin air..

Someone remarked on Facebook that we could now expect more of same, namely looting, corruption etc. I think that’s unfair as it disregards your substantial contributions. Our culture is richer for your touching ‘Boy meets machine gun’ song, your dancing, demonstrations of your skills as escape artist, magician and illusionist. Your party has also played a huge role in helping me highlight the dangers of atypical transient global amnesia, of which I wrote to Messrs Koko and Zwane previously. Was there not something about your forgetting meetings with certain parties - related to a building project in KZN? Another victim? I confronted a doctor at our Thursday mental health clinic about the neglect of this pandemic in the making. She maintained that this it’s self - inflicted and requires no further research. Yet, clearly. Mr President, so many of your party have been stricken. Oh. the callousness and arrogance of Western medicine. This is why I have turned to acupuncture and herbal remedies. I have planted 100 hectares of a friend’s farm with that wonder herb with pointed leaves. As per the legislation, this is for my sole medicinal use. I was invited to present a paper on this dread affliction, at an international conference in Germiston. Unfortunately, the paper was blank, as. I could not remember the topic.

Mr President, I mentioned your peerless skills as illusionist. The greatest illusion that your party has fallen for is that they can be taken any more seriously than Peter Sellers in his party.

Yours in the entertainment business

Richard

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If You Can't Beat Them, Beat Them Up

If You Can’t Beat Them, Beat Them Up
Tuesday, February 11th, 2020

Dear Metered Taxi Drivers

I recently had to walk from the train station halfway to my destination to catch a Bolt taxi. The driver was too terrified to stop anywhere near you. Sirs, I’m not sure where you did your business training but ‘beat the opposition’ is not meant to be taken literally. It’s hard to picture a bunch of Spar employees beating the daylights out of the employees of the newly opened Shoprite across the road. Of course, in South Africa, just about anything is possible. Even the Daily Sun is beginning to look like a normal read.

I do understand your burning desire to preserve the old ways (sometimes given expression in the burning of competitors’ vehicles). Who wouldn’t want to hold on to the cherished traditions of exorbitant pricing and contemptuous service? The rest of the world has been going in a completely different direction for decades. What do they know anyway? Yours is a unique, cutting (and burning and slashing) edge approach. If you can’t beat them, beat them up. It would not surprise me if you were invited to share at business seminars locally and internationally. I can see you sharing your MOER strategy to tremendous acclaim; Make Opposition Extremely Reluctant.

Despite your innovative tactics, the passengers aren’t exactly breaking down your doors, are they? I, for one, will avoid you like the Corona virus. What if you have a sudden irresistible urge to also moer the odd passenger? Ive been told by various teachers that I am an odd one.

Yours in the struggle for a slice of the cake.

Richard

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Attack Of The Clones

Attack Of The Clones
Monday, July 31st, 2017

Dear Ms Davids

I wholly empathise with you. There you were, innocently enjoying a well - deserved holiday in Dubai, paid for with your own hard - earned cash. Now mischievous third force elements are making all sorts of wild insinuations. The fact that certain ministers were also present at your five-star hotel has been made much of by these cynical opportunists. I was once on holiday in Windhoek at the same time as Angelina Jolie. It does not follow that there is anything between us (apart from a long-standing platonic friendship). Personally, I prefer Thandi Newton and our own Pearl Thusi.

I believe that I am on the verge of uncovering a heinous conspiracy and want to assure you that the whole truth will soon be as widely known as the Saxonworld shebeen
In the quiet, leafy, upmarket suburb of Primrose, I have observed people emerge from certain residences, glazed of eye and dazed of demeanour, many of them sniffing as if the earth’s atmosphere were strange and new to them. Friends tell me that this behaviour is typical of drug users. I believe that the truth is infinitely more sinister. Why have so many politicians and public figures been accused of having been at places or at meetings that they deny, with a bewildered innocence that has me convinced, cynical though I am? I am convinced that I have stumbled upon a cloning factory, cunningly set up by those masters of manipulation. What else would explain the other Kim Davids at your hotel, allegedly paid for by someone else and observed to have hobnobbed with the Saxonworld family.

I was inspired to pen a short story. An excerpt for your enjoyment:
“Kim stifled a luxurious yawn as she made her way past the reception desk to the restaurant for breakfast. She idly glanced at the register in passing, then frowned in puzzlement. There, right next to her and the minister’s names was..she blinked several times - another Kim Davids. She had hardly had time to ponder what this meant when the lift doors opened and an elegantly dressed, attractive lady glided out. Ice formed around Kim’s heart. She could have been looking into a mirror, but for the glazed look in the eyes of the other. She clutched at the reception desk for support, her hand fluttering to her throat..”

My detective agency will gladly take on the task of excavating and exposing the truth. For a small consideration.

There, Ms Davids. I’m sure you feel better already.

Yours in the uncovering of knavish conspiracies.

Richard