Chicken, Egg, ANC, South Africa

Dear ANC 

 We are delighted to see you wrestling with the complex, profound question of whether the ANC or the country comes first.

 It's as difficult and tantalizing as the chicken/ egg riddle. I am sure that the answer will help us out of this messy omelette of corruption, incompetence and arrogance - the egg on our national face. 

 I understand that the Zuma school of thought plumps for the ANC. The erudite Ms Gumede apparently believes that without the ANC, there would be no country. Bizarre. But easily tested. Unlike the chicken/ egg question. Empirical proof is within our grasp.

 Could the ANC bugg..., sorry, retire for a bit. That would settle the issue. Some cynics maintain that, with the ANC, it's a miracle that we still have a country. At least, whatever's left after various garage sales and Black Friday specials. So cynical. 

 If there's to be any chicken or egg to be had in future, the ANC needs to resolve the issue. Soon. A quote, reportedly from Mr Zuma: "Because those people, if they are not part of the ANC and there was no ANC they could be misled. They could be under... oppression forever." He said the country needed a conscious organisation which could take the people "to their destination". To misquote Mr Churchill: Some chicken, some egg, some destination!

 Yours in the struggle for truth (and a chicken in every pot). 

 Richard

The Right(eous) Stuff

Dear Fellow South Africans 

 Don't you feel privileged? Advice, letters and recommendations descend upon us. Those who have romped in the fields of righteousness, ethics and integrity have seen fit to bless us with their wisdom and knowledge.

 Who better? Running the gauntlet of fraud, racketeering and corruption charges, serving gaol time, wallowing in rumour and scandal; surely that must qualify one to tender quality comment. Surely? After all, didn't the poet say: "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Drink deep..."? 

 Those European and other politicians, rightly and roundly condemned by Twitter sages for being the meddling neo-colonists that they are, have been known to resign at a whiff of scandal. Silly buggers. What do they know? Our blokes are made of sterner stuff. They smell, touch, taste, fondle and move on. Upward and onward. That's tenacity. 

Reminds me of that song: 'We Are Climbing Jacob's Ladder'. Good, old-fashioned spiritual. While we are on matters spiritual, let him, then, who is without odour, cast the first stink bomb. 

 The scuffle continues. 

 Richard

Atypical Transient Global Amnesia

What is Atypical Transient Global Amnesia (herinafter referred to as ATGA)? 

 A serious ailment, affecting, in the main, politicians, villains and debtors. Has been known to vacuum all recollection of blunders, misdemeanours, felonies, debts.

 How and when was this condition discovered? 

 In South Africa, March 2017, when Mr Koko, formerly of Eskom, exhibited clear symptoms. The writer of this article is himself a sufferer and has been researching since the days of Richard Nixon, an early victim. 

 What is the rate of infection in South Africa? 

 We've seen a rapid rise since the days of Mr Koko. Messrs Zuma, Martins, Zwane and many, many others seem to have been affected. The case of Mr Ndzeku is of particular interest. In a full-blown attack, it appears that his antibodies were decimated. 

 What should one do to avoid infection? 

 Certain environments exacerbate the condition. Commissions of inquiry are to be avoided. The same applies to principals' offices, SARS premises etc. Sweaty palms, itchy scalps, the onset of stuttering, are some of the warning signs.

 Is there a cure? 

 Not at present. The Mann Establishment for Research into Dire Emergencies (MERDE), is hard at work. I am currently in Namaqualand, testing dried bat urine (scientific name: vlermuispis), which is reputed to work wonders for toothache. We are also looking into the use of controlled doses of marijuana. Results are as yet inconclusive but the latter remedy does seem to leave the subjects quite cheerful. Even mirthful.

 The struggle continues.

Lost In Translation?

Inspired by the eloquence of philosopher Dr Ace and elder statesman Mr Zuma: a letter written some time ago. 

 Dear Mr Former President

 Congratulations to you and to Dr Ace on your contribution to the elegant cut and thrust of political discourse. I once thought your coining of the word 'meandos' was a crowning achievement. Your comment on state capture - 'just people doing things with other people', was a gem (echoes of Simon and Garfunkel?). It could mean anything at all and nothing at all; surely the highest form of politspeak - a sort of tenth dan achievement in the noble art. The only problem is that it is wide open to all sorts of salacious interpretation. 

 Dr Ace was not to be outdone. His treatise on when a meeting is not a meeting or may be a meeting but not the sort of meeting we consider a meeting, is....masterful. "I met with Zuma but I did not intend on meeting with Zuma as a meeting is not necessarily a meeting to meet individuals but rather a meeting intended to meet with him in a capacity that we had already met." This was probably a prime example of people doing things with other people - just not with individuals. Students of English and political science will surely study and analyse this piece for years to come.  

A letter on the editorial page of the Sunday Times hinted at your planning a Schwarzenegger - type comeback. Plots were said to be hatched at top Durban hotels. If so, good choice, sir. I can think of worse plot-hatching venues than The Maharani. I've heard that the food is excellent and would gladly join you should you again feel the need to hatch....anything.

 I take issue with the plotting allegations. For Dr Ace to compose that linguistic Gordian knot must surely have taken up the entire meeting. Precious little time left for any plotting worthy of the name. I firmly believe your meetings have been about shaping and polishing your oratorical skills. We look forward to more. 

 Yours in the quest for the perfect soundbite. 

 Richard

This Tender Land

Dear ANC

 You have opened up a world (or is it underworld?) of possibilities.

 You don't get much more broad based than extending deals to include those who have shuffled off this mortal coil. I refer, of course, to the rather handsome tender awarded to a departed businessman. 

Are we moving to ERET, Extreme Radical Economic Transformation? This should be celebrated, not condemned. Groundbreaking stuff. Bugger the moon landing, Mars trips and Elon Musk's achievement. You really should go big with the communication on this one. So many people will be dead keen to know more. 

I'm disappointed in TV news. Finding nothing locally, I checked Sky, the BBC, Al Jazeera, the lot. Nothing, zip, dololo. I guess it shows the lengths to which the WMC media will go to suppress, nay bury, your achievements. 

 I trust that you have roped in Prophet / Pastor / Bishop Lukau. He is one of our pioneers in fetching people from the 'undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns'. (Take that, William). He could probably help you to reach out to more candidates for tenders.

 Pardon me for digging into insignificant details, but how do you pay? Some sort of crypt currency, I assume. Ethereal? You've had a lot of bad press recently. Time to resurrect your ratings, I'd say. 

 Yours in the struggle to redistribute wealth as widely as possible.

 Richard

Dark City - In Praise Of Eskom

Dear Eskom 

 Thank you. 

 At last I understand the biblical prophecy: 'Behold, the darkness shall cover the earth and gross darkness the people...' I just never realized how involved you would be in its fulfilment. If you had been there at the writing of Genesis, it would probably have read something like: God said: 'Let there be light'. And Eskom replied: 'Ja, well, no fine'. 

 ERMA. the East Rand Muggers' Association asked me to convey heartfelt thanks. It's been a bumper season. Our streets have always been poorly lit but they appreciate that you guys don't go in for half measures. An acquaintance in the alternative shopping business asked if you could supply a six month schedule. Christmas is not that far off and he'd like to draw up his quarterly plans. Wants to fit in several Black Fridays. 

 We do understand that it's been an incredibly tough balancing act for you guys. Running a (dark) comedy show, power utility and testing unique economic and business theories all in one go. You must be almost burned out.

 We do try to make the most of it. Sitting in the gloom, singing old favourites like 'Candle In The Wind' and the one about the lights all going out in Massachusetts. Also playing fun games like 'Guess The Next Electricity Hike'. 

 I'm dreaming of a bright Christmas but also heeding the advice of Dylan Thomas: 'Do not go gentle into that good night'. This is the East Rand, after all.

 Power to the people! 

 Richard

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Dead Poets And Politicians

This was written before the last election. 

 What would the dead poets have said about South Africa? Let's tweak Wordsworth: 

 Nine years have passed 

Nine summers with the length of nine long winters 

And again we see these waters rolling from corrupted springs.... 

 As we approach our Rubicon, die in hand, it might help to remember the words of e e cummings: 'A politician is an a...e.' Not always true. Sometimes insulting to a...s. Still, it's true often enough to warn us to cast the die with great care. 

Soberly. 

 Louis MacNeice might have been cautioning us (slightly cannibaiized):

 Our freedom as free lances

lanced Advances towards its end;

 This earth compels, 

upon it cliches and curses descend; 

And soon, my friend, 

We shall have no time for dances.

 And he may well have our measure as a country, in these lines: 

 We are dying, Egypt, dying 

And not expecting pardon 

Hardened in heart anew... 

 Please vote carefully. We may say in time: 'Now is the winter of our discontent made summer....' Or: Four years have passed Four summers with the length Of four harsh winters....

Eye Of The Tiger

Dear Mr Malema 

 I am concerned that you have not been your ebullient, voluble self lately.

 The stage two darkness reminded me of your treatment at the hands of the ever - treacherous WMC media. You once reportedly complained (last year) that eNCA distorted images of you, making you appear darker than you are. And there was I thinking that that was how you actually looked. Is there no limit to their cunning and depravity? They probably also tried to make you look fatter and shorter than you are (I'm sure you are neither). No wonder that you banned some of them from your press conferences. May they never darken your doorstep again. 

 Adding insult to injury was the journalist who called you a p..s. I wasn't familiar with the word. I had a sheltered upbringing (people at the shelter spoke only English). The Oxford and Cambridge dictionaries were no help. I assumed from the similarity in spelling and pronunciation that he was calling you a pussycat. An outrage. I was most indignant. That's akin to calling a tiger a domestic tabby. Sir, one may question your fighting technique but never your resolve. The technique issue is easily addressed through some martial arts training and my earler offer remains open ('Kung Fu': March 2017).

 I do hope that, in this time of great distress, the WMC press will forsake the dark side for a transparent approach to news reporting. 

 Yours in the struggle for balance and objectivity (plus some land).

 Richard

Sport, Politicians And Marijuana

Dear Fellow South Africans

 I have not wasted lockdown time. I'm pleased to share with you my research findings on the links between sport, marijuana and politicians.

 There are mixed feelings about the more relaxed approach to use of the herb of the family cannabaceae. With this rigorousIy researched information, I hope to pour coke on troubled brandy.

 Taken in appropriate quantities, the herb can actually improve performance in some sports. We've all heard cricket commentators say: "He's seeing the ball twice it's size". I thought that this had to do with time spent at the batting crease. Then one of our top batsmen admitted to sampling some of the islands' finest on a West Indies tour. This may well explain why the islands have produced a succession of fine batsmen. When we had a West Indian coach, I had hoped that our team would come out smoking for the World Cup. A new significance added to the green and gold? 

 The jury is still out on rugby. Some rugby referees do have one wondering. I have noticed this particularly when The Sharks have lost against lesser teams such as Stormers, Lions, Bulls and others.

 Unfortunately, the weed does not improve the performance of politicians. I am not suggesting that our own politicians indulge. Nevertheless, consider these few examples, taken from less disciplined countries to the north:

 MPs see nothing wrong in debating the meaning of the word 'fokol' at taxpayer expense. 

 A prominent statesman responds to national crises with bouts of hilarity.

 A popular populist confuses the verbs 'kill' and 'die', using them interchangeably.

 A party whose middle name is corruption vows weekly to eradicate corruption.

 Said party appoints, promotes and supports, with gay abandon, members under thick, dark, nimbus clouds. 

 After more than a quarter of a century in power, politicians blame George Soros, the Dutch East India Company , the previous regime, Bill Gates, third forces, local La Costra Nostra, whites, and for all one knows, Martians for everything from shoplifting to billion dollar disasters.

 There are only two possible explanations: insanity or use of mind-altering substances. Then again, perhaps it's the saliva. 

 Yours in the quest for knowledge and answers. 

 Richard

High Tea and Doctor Endeezee

Dear Fellow South Africans 

 Dr NDZ and Mr Cele warned us of the evils of smoking and drinking. 

I discovered a greater evil. Subtle, insidious, deceptive - abuse of tea. It all started when a judge hit the wall - literally. With his rather expensive car. The judge claimed to have been drinking tea. He later admitted to having had some wine. So it was reported. I believe the first report. I am a supporter of law and order, judges and all things judicial.

 I resolved to conduct the kind of thorough research that The Daily Sun is renowned for. I made some startling discoveries. Consider the following: What is it about tea that so inflamed the sober sons of Boston? Throwing hundreds of chests of tea into the harbour isn't what you'd expect at an eighteenth century tea party. 

 The samurai drank, not sake, but tea before battle. A man whose sole purpose in life is separating heads from bodies would know. Some people read tea leaves. No one goes around reading coffee grounds- or even dagga seeds. Sinister. What is the real meaning of high tea? Why should storms happen only in teacups? 

 Lest you think I am being frivolous (heaven forbid!), here is the most compelling evidence: Ever since Catherine Of Braganza took some tea over as part of her dowry, the English began to behave in eccentric, and sometimes downright antisocial ways. Why would a 'nation of shopkeepers' want to conquer the globe? One can picture the lords of the day, lolling among the overturned teacups. Their slurred speech would later become the 'aristocratic drawl'. 

 "I say, chaps. Why don't we jolly well conquer the whole earth?"

 "Very droll, Robert. Whatever for?"

 "Well, er, because it's there, old chap". 

 And thus, in all probability, began that chapter. 

 I suggest that the legal age for drinking tea be raised. We should conduct experiments on selected members of the legal professions. It's the responsible thing to do.

 Yours in the struggle against substance abuse. 

 Richard

Time Of Reckoning

Dear Mr Cele

 So we go to lockdown level 2.

 I am sure that you are ready to deal with the hordes of criminals coming off the 'crime holiday' you mentioned. After all, your gallant officers are now battle- hardened. They have fought an epic battle with those brutal, vicious, cunning illegal smokers and boozers. They surely must bear the scars. After that, rounding up murderers, rapists and robbers will be like taking candy from a sleeping baby. Or whiskey from a comatose illegal boozer. 

You arrested about 300 000 of those puffing, swilling villains. We expect double that number of villains, including Covidpreneurs, to be locked down a bit longer than we were. After all, it's going to be a lot easier, isn't it. It took real courage and grit to deal with that other lot. Gazing into the bloodshot eyes of a rebellious boozer or smoker can freeze a man's blood.

 I am a little confused by your reference to investigations into police brutality. I thought you said there wasn't any in South Africa. Or are you looking at our neighbours to the north? (Now that our own smoking and drinking rings have been smashed). Carte Blanche did a programme on blue light gangs. I thought it was about those convoys carrying Important People to Important Events. Apparently the name refers to villains masquerading as police officers. A cynical friend said that that's not at all unusual in South Africa. Not sure what he meant. Perhaps someone can explain?

 Well, Sir, the time of reckoning has surely come. 

May the force be with you. 

 Yours in the struggle to maintain law and order.

 Richard

Met Ys / With Ice

Dear Fellow South Africans 

 Like you, I'm sure, I've been concerned about the aggression, scorn and anger poured out on social media.

 At times we seem to be such an angry, frustrated, fragmented nation. All is not lost. Mr Malema was once reported to have retorted to Mr Kriel of Afriforum: "You are drunk on Klipdrift and coke". (I assume he meant Coca-Cola, not the powdery stuff). This had to do with moneys reportedly paid to Afriforum after a (yet another) lawsuit. Another angry outburst, I thought. 

Then I re-read the piece, more attentively. He said 'Klipdrift', not 'brandy'. Not just any brandy. Now how would Mr Malema know that the respected klippies was Mr Kriel's favourite tipple? This points to insider knowledge. One can only assume that they must have raised a glass or two together. So what sounded like an angry shot across the bows may well have been some friendly ribbing. 

 To those of you uttering a disbelieving 'haibo', let me refer you the English House of Commons. MPs savage one another mercilessly, then have a friendly drink together. It's so reassuring to know that our own politicos are capable of such maturity and good humour. A lesson to us all in a mature, big-hearted approach to problem solving. 

I can picture the two of them, sipping their klippies and coke before a roaring log fire, chuckling over the lawyers' antics. 

 Remember the popular 'Met Ys' advertisement for Klipdrift? Here's an opportunity to go one better. Courtroom scenes shot in sombre black and white, warm sepia tones for the fireplace scenes - a classic. Potential award winner. 

 Shall we raise a glass in salute to these two gentlemen and the fine example that they are? 

Met ys, ja.

 Richard

Wallflowers - Supporting Mr Gigaba

Mr Gigaba is back in the news. Here is a supportive letter that I wrote to him some time ago.

 Dear Mr Gigaba

 You have my sympathy empathy and understanding. How awful that you attended those social gatherings in Saxonworld and elsewhere and were not afforded even the courtesy of an introduction. 

 I myself underwent a whole year of therapy after the trauma of a similar Wallflower experience. Even now I shudder at the memory. I would highly recommend Dr von Schollenhofen von Eltern unter den Tannenbaumen, should you feel the need for a good analyst. While my experience was a one-off, I imagine that the trauma was ratcheted up several notches as you suffered repeated exposure to the cold shoulder. I can picture you slouching in a corner, your glass of red wine slowly turning lukewarm as you sat despondently while the animated discussion and gusts of laughter wafted by you. 

People just do not realise how soul-destroying the Wallflower experience can be. Being a kindred soul in suffering I suggest that we meet at the Saxonworld establishment for some cathartic sharing and unburdening over a comforting beverage. We could establish WA, Wallflowers Anonymous. We are certain to be inundated with applications from politicians and officials who suffered in like fashion, attending functions but being treated like the Invisible Man by those churlish cads.

 May I also invite you to my favourite Germiston haunts where the welcome is always warm. Pat's Bar and Joe's Tavern are cradles of culture where one may freely may freely and lustily cheer the Sharks, Pirates and the Proteas in convivial company. Even the occasional fistfights are conducted in a fair and friendly spirit.

 I look forward to hearing from you.  

Yours in the quest for warm South African hospitality.

 Richard

Lockdown

Dear criminals

 Isn't life strange? It rather looks as if that virus is going to accomplish what our respected police force has failed dismally at: keep you bas.., sorry gentlemen off the streets.

 I do hope you spend your time wisely. I can recommend some good books, including The Good Book, which has many interesting thoughts on your line of business. I believe that you will meet many kindred spirits in several of the stories. If you have not already liberated a copy, I'd be happy to leave one for you at a convenient spot.

 Although I feel as much sympathy for you as I did for Darth Vader, I have thought of a way to brighten your day. Consider this a work from home opportunity. If you send detailed instructions, I will rob myself twice a week. One does want to do it properly, you know, standard operating procedures and all that. I'm happy to video the whole thing if that will add some spice. 

 I imagine that many of you have solid experience of lockdown situations, having been guests of the state. You might want to give back (whoa, wait till I finish) a little and share on how you survived them. Just the activities that normal folk can relate to, please.You know what I mean: monopoly, checkers etc. 

I guess it would be too much to hope that this will be a life-changing experience for you, so let's just leave it at that. 

 Yours in the struggle to stay safe and healthy. 

 Richard

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Thuma Mina (Send Me)

Dear Gupta Family

 I am deeply disappointed after watching some of the recent Zondo Commission episodes. I think that it is a travesty of justice and other stuff that you did not make the list of top ten best companies to work for. 

I admire your no-nonsense approach to business procedures. Your payroll procedures, for example. Bags of cash are so much easier to conc..., I mean, handle than EFTs, bank interest charges and all that bureaucratic stuff. Mattresses, jam jars and holes in the garden were good enough for our forebears. I'm all for preserving culture and tradition.

 Your compensation plan seems as competitive as they get. In my entire career, I've only had two similar offers. One was a public relations junket for a family concern on an island near the 'toe' of Italy's 'boot'. The other was a sales management job for a Colombian pharmaceutical company. 

 But, to business. I am wildly enthusiastic about joining your enterprise. I believe that I'd make an ideal employee from a culture - fit and skills perspective. Some of my attributes: Flexibility: I am willing to do anything legal - or at least leaning in that general direction. A rubber band could not be more elastic. Goal driven: My career goal is to make a substantial pil..,sorry, contribution to a worthy cause. Willingness: I will shred, burn and even eat documents should the need arise. And the pric.., er, cause be right. Maturity and Reasonableness : I read some time ago of someone who turned down a sweetener with a fair number of zeroes in it. For that sort of reasonable incentive, I could be sweeter than the fattest honeycomb.  

I am willing to be interviewed at that watering hole made famous by Mr Molefe. I am equally willing to skip straight to the signing of contracts. Drinks on me on successful conclusion. 

 Yours in the struggle for enlightenment in the world of work.  

Richard

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Game Of Clones

King Ramer Pozar stared into the fireplace, shivering despite the warmth. He threw a log onto the fire and sighed; a thousand fires to put out in the kingdom.

 If only he could concentrate his forces on one enemy. Lord Stonehouse in the West grew stronger daily. The so-called Mother of Dragons had returned to support him. Though many regarded her as a meddlesome plotter, past her prime, she could be a formidable foe. 

 And what of Lord Malma? There was a menace in his eerie silence greater than his ranting and threats. Even Lord Herman in the North was flexing his muscles, gathering a ragged army of malcontents. 

 The kingdom was shrouded in snow and blizzards tore at fields and dwelling places. The White Walkers, it was whispered abroad, were up to their devilry of old. The name of Lord Rupert was but one spoken of in hushed tones. The Wildings were rampaging through the battered, tormented countryside, looting and burning every village in sight. They were once - loyal citizens and nobles gone rogue, gone wild with greed. Hence the name. The people's cries for help had turned to curses and open, treasonous talk of rebellion. 

 And where were his generals? Lord Chella seemed to chase every will-'o -the-wisp. His boasts of victories over the Wildings were sounding increasingly hollow. News of fresh Wilding outrages came almost hourly. Lord McGushulla seemed to be as scorned and despised of late as were those marauding bandits. Accusations were being made that he was in alliance with them. Was, in fact, the secret Lord Commander. Lady Endiazed......he held his head in his hands. How had it come to this? 

 The wind shrieked wildly, as if in mocking reply. A fresh fall of snow blotted out everything beyond the window pane.

 So bitterly cold.

 So hard this Game Of Clones.

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Why The Mongols Never Invaded Africa

The scene: boardroom of the Mongol executive, Genghis Kahn presiding. Aroma of spiced tea and Mongolian stir-fry waft through the carpeted ger (yurt).

 "I say, chaps, it's been another good year. Many lands coming under beneficent Mongol rule. Trade and tributes swelling our coffers. It's a yak market." 

 Applause and smiles all round. "He's been talking this way since we moved into Europe", murmurs one executive to another. "Calls it business language". 

 "Great Kahn, at whose voice the whole earth trembles...", begins one of the younger executives. 

 "Save that stuff for the public meetings, Temujin. But speak. You are a man of learning and knowledge. What would you have us know?".

 "Sire, on the southern tip of the Dark Continent lies a fertile land of great riches...".

 "Why is it so named? Dark Continent?". 

 "There is a tribe that goes through the land from time to time, extinguishing all lights that they may do their business in darkness. They are much feared and are known as the Esscom". 

 "Most peculiar. What else should we know of this land". 

 "They are ruled by a tribe of fat ones, yet many of the people live in poverty and want". 

 "Why do they not rise up?" 

 "Well, Sire, they themselves choose the fat ones in a kurultai, much as we have". 

 "What manner of people is this? Shall a wolf be chosen to guard the sheep?" 

 "It is a land of mystery and magic. They have a saying: Better the wolf you know".

 "Better the....Surely this is a cursed people. Or drunk on strange potions". 

 "It is said that many of the people inhale a mysterious incense which renders them insensible or prone to great mirth at things of no significance. Sire, they may be ripe for conquest but surely it is a land of strange things and sorcery." 

 "You speak wisely, Temujin. We are warriors, conquerors. But, of sorcerers, we know little. We shall not venture into that cursed land. Better the wolf you know, indeed!" 

Murmers of assent. 

Secretary crosses Africa off to-do list.

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The Sun Also Rises

 Dear Daily Sun

The time has come, as the walrus famously declared, to acknowledge your contribution to the work of the free press in South Africa. 

While other publications focus on the tangible and the obvious, you have crawled into the dark, bubbling underbelly of life in the beloved country. You have experienced and faithfully recorded each foul eruption as it burps forth successive tales, each stranger than the one before.  Truly, Bill, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. Tokoloshes, zombies and others one dare not mention in polite company (yours, dear reader).

Anyone can report on corruption and the like. It takes nerves of steel and the instincts of a champion bloodhound to stay on the track of the terrifying creatures that go eish in the night. We salute you. Were it not for you, we would be blissfully unaware and unprepared. As it is, my bed stands on extra-large bricks. I have an armoury filled with garlic, salt and other weapons of ghoul destruction. Unlike the ANC and the so -sudden tsunami of corruption, I  will not be caught unprepared.

Where I once faithfully read The Star and The Sunday Times for news, I now refer to them only for the TV guide. For real news, 'Die son sien alles'. En nog wat. After all, what could be more of a 'clear and present danger' than the spectre of  the undead roaming the land, seeking unsuspecting prey? Aided and abetted, no doubt, by the vertically challenged ones. 

Where are the Hawks when we need them? And our intelligence agencies? Surely they could mount an undercover operation. Some of them should have no problems posing as zombies. With their skills and training, I mean.

Thank you for the fresh perspective on what really matters in South Africa.

One must also commend you on your muscular use of language. "Kwaito Star Moers Neighbour' has an earthy eloquence. Beats the hell out of "Musician Assaults Neighbour". You go for the cro..., er, jugular. Rock on

Yours in the pursuit of great stories (ANC has the franchise on good stories).

Richard 

Practical Magic

Dear Doctors, Prophets, Professors and Other Practitioners of the Mystical Arts and Sciences 

We are in the direst of straits. But you know that. You probably saw it coming a long way back. 

I've been scanning your fascinating advertisements with more than just idle curiosity. The pastor of the petrol - chugging church and I have both been buffeted by rising fuel prices. VAT has taken on its Afrikaans meaning. I fear that the man in the street will soon be quite literally the man in the street.

Even my dog is in debt and spends his days moping around the yard, instead of administering strategically-placed bites to the deserving. On that note dear burglars, thieves and assorted villains, you are wasting your precious time in our suburb. We have already been looted by those far more skilled than you. I would look to other compass points.

 What do the politicians offer? Little beyond the accustomed platitudes, implied threats to, in the immortal phrasing of the Daily Sun, 'moer' some party or the other. And also quite creditable impersonations of a canine street encounter.

But you, dear practitioners of the magic arts ,offer hope and dreams. You offer a bewildering array of services at reasonable prices. Mirrors to see what one's enemies are up to (SARS beware), charms for every conceivable situation or game of chance, Frodo's ring of power  - the list meanders on. It occurs to me that I need a package deal, cash on delivery of more cash, naturally. I invite you all to submit tenders for the following package (we South Africans do, in the words of Elvis, Love To Tender):

The casino-crushing charm - turbo version. I aim to hit all East Rand casinos, spazas included, in one week.

The lotto - looting charm. Please include plus 1 and plus 2.

The SARS - sedating charm. Self - explanatory. 

I will pass on the short-boys-and-rats package. Home deliveries are outdated and labour-intensive. Besides, cash-in-transit heists are an ever present menace in the East.

With your supernatural radar at work, I suspect that your sealed tenders are ready for submission. I look forward to doing business with the winner. 

Onward with radical economic transformation.

Richard

The Return Of The Magnificent Four

The rider bent low over the black stallion's mane as they sped through waving grasslands. He dismounted in a shady grove and let the stallion graze. Taking  a sip from his canteen of Perrier water, he flexed his fingers. The draw was a blur. Three SMSs sped out as one. 

"Got a long way to go Home Affairs", he murmered to the stallion as he remounted. 

Mo sat on his porch in the lotus position he'd learned during his passage to India. He seemed hardly to move as the knife thudded into the soil between the rider's boots. "Haven't lost your touch", the rider chuckled. Mo grunted: "We ride?"

"We ride",  he answered.

Not even a wisp of smoke rose from Faith's cabin among the woods. They leaned back in their saddles in the easy Mzansi rider's posture. "You can come down from the tree", the rider called. Rifle in the crook of her arm, she sailed down gracefully. "Only the three of us?" she asked. "We ride to Mokonyane's", he replied, lighting up a cheroot. "Grab a bite to eat. She's  got two lambs on the spit". 

"Just like old times", she chuckled, tightening the cinch on her saddle.

The sun was beginning to sink as they sped through grasslands, waded through creeks and ate the dust of old trails. They rode silently, each  with memories of battles fought and thoughts of  battles to come. The Saxonworld shootout, gunfight at the SONA Corral, gunsmoke drifting on the plain of Parliament.... They rode through villages, silent save for the rhythmic drumming of their horses' hooves. The villagers watched. Some crossed themselves. Even the children were subdued,  sensing that something momentous was afoot.

The last rays of the setting sun gleamed on leather and steel. Then the darkness swallowed them. . 

The Magnificent Four were back.

The Bone Collectors

Dear Covidpreneurs and Tenderpreneurs

At our recent meeting (on Zoom, of course), I was tasked with the unpleasant, unpalatable duty of conveying to you our extreme displeasure.

Sirs and madams, we of the Theft And  Burglary Association (TABA), take enormous pride in our professional, even artistic approach to our discipline. You, on the other hand, tear into the business like a barbaric guest at an elegant dinner gathering. The ghastly picture in my mind is of a diner brandishing in one hand a whole lamb shank  and tearing at it, while gulping down an enormous jug of beer, held in the other hand. I am unable to face my breakfast. To quote the troubled Danish prince, my gorge rises at it.

Several of our members have 'gone straight' in disgust. Must we teach you the basics? Like our patron saint, Robin of Locksley (widely known as Robin Hood), we rob only from the rich and distribute to the poor (ourselves). 

Ladies and gentlemen, there is a certain savoir-faire in redeploying selected contents of a mansion. Or relocating a wealthy person's wallet. Clearly, you nouveau criminals are sadly lacking in basic education. And indeed, manners. You tarnish the image of our profession.

One could word this protest in much stronger terms but that would entail sinking to the abysmal level that you occupy.

We intend to lobby strenuously for a reclassification of your activities. I am afraid that the term 'criminal' is far too genteel. Something porcine might fit the bill.

Peter Pompies

Secretary General TABA

Love Story

A year or two ago

Dear Supra

'The people love me.'

So glad you cleared up that little misunderstanding. We were under the (clearly false) impression that the people of the northwest were slightly g..vol with you - burning, looting, rioting.

We are talking of the same Northwest aren't we? In South Africa? Not North Korea or Nepal? I read 'The Five Love Languages' but missed the  chapter on rioting, looting and burning. Must go back and have another look.

Then again love has been known to drive people to distraction. This is clearly the variety sung of in old songs such as Burning Love and Ring of Fire. Your statement confused me initially and I was more inclined to Foreigner's I Want to Know What Love Is.

There is one secret that you must share with us, please. It could be most helpful to harassed administrators in the land. A newspaper article averred that your administration has been characterized by incompetence, corruption, failure to deliver services, among others. For which of these do the people love you most?

I do hope that the outpouring of love remains confined to your area. Already there are reports of some demonstrations of affection in KZN. Should the tide of passion sweep the whole country, I am afraid that our emergency services may really struggle to quench the fires of love.

Yours in the eternal quest for true love.

Richard