Yes Minister Cele

 Dear Mr Cele

I was in bed by 8.30 pm, half an hour before your appointed time. Just showing my regard and respect. Besides, there's a mother of thunderstorms over our part of Durban. I love nothing more than to listen to the rumbling and crashing of thunder. Reminds me so much of the Party. Also the other party that is in perpetual marching motion. Also,  of course of the words of dear old Macbeth:

'It is a tale told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,

signifying nothing'

I just mention the last. No underlying meaning. Making conversation. I know you love chatting. Saw you having a fatherly chat with the fellow who neglected to wear a mask. You also wisely warned him not to linger (ungalingi). Sir, you are good at this stuff. Lecturing people, grandst.., sorry, standing at roadblocks, stopping dangerous filming on beaches.. Is there not some ministry that could use your talent to the full? Anyone can manage the business of bringing dangerous but boring criminals to justice. But this thing you do, sir, now that's something special. A sort of Bruce Lee or Jedi of the tongue-lashing on camera. Play to your strengths, the HR gurus tell us. Flow. My wish for you for 2021 is that you find that niche. Let some less talented, one track minded fellow do the law and order thing.

Incidentally, while on my way to the loo, I absentmindedly looked through the telescope in the attic. My neighbour was in his garage well after 9pm. Probably receiving a consignment of liquor. Please look into that. The address is below. 

Yours in the fierce struggle against crime and disobedience.

 Richard

Just Not Cricket?

 Dear Fellow South Africans 

Please help. 

Watching SABC TV is almost as absorbing as watching dung beetles on a slow day. I turned to the cricket test for some relief.

I know little about the game. After this morning's session, I feel as if I know even less. A presenter described the game as strenuous, demanding. 'Ha', I thought.  I saw batsmen relaxing at the wicket, strolling around and chatting. Then I learned that the game lasts five days. I've seen football matches run an extra half hour. Tennis matches that last a few hours. But five days! Is this not cruel and unusual punishment? Do the players do it willingly? Or are they pressured into it?

My suspicions were heightened when a commentator said that the South African target is lunch. Logic tells us that the target should be one run more than the Sri Lankan score. Good heavens, these chaps are starving. It's no wonder we struggle in the big competitions.

Another alarming comment was that Mickey Arthur, the Sri Lankan coach,  is worried by injuries. If the coach is getting injured, then there's more to this game than meets the eye. None of it good.

'He (a bowler) needs to ask questions of the South African batsmen', was another perplexing comment. So why doesn't he do it during those chat breaks? What questions? 'Would you rather I hit you on the head or on the ribs?' might be a logical one. I hope it's not general knowledge stuff like: 'Which comes first; South Africa or the ANC?' The game's slow enough as it is.

When the talk turned to leg spinning (surely physically impossible), chirping (is this a Sri Lankan thing?) and other stuff that hadn't the remotest connection to any sport I know, I turned off the sound.

Is this normal in cricket matches? Please let me know.

Yours in the struggle for understanding.

Richard 

 

Only When I Laugh

 

Dear Fellow South Africans 

Heard the one about the ANC politician who meets an admiral in Swaziland?

"But you have no sea", he says.

"We do have some rivers and lakes", the admiral replies. "But you have an integrity commission!".

And Tony Yengeni chairs a working group on crime and corruption. Good choice. Experience is important. 

Dear fellow South Africans, please give the ANC some credit. They have been trying so hard for so long to get us laughing. But we are a tough crowd to please. Always moaning about service delivery, corruption, incompetence and other relatively unimportant stuff. 

Our best comedians couldn't have dreamed up these absolute corkers:

Those who vote for the ANC will be blessed on earth and heaven - Jacob Zuma 

The people love me - Supra Mahumapelo

So this over-concentration of coloureds in the Western Cape is not working for them. They should spread in the rest of the country.... - Jimmy Manyi

Many politicians publicly deny they did certain things but then later admit to them. It is accepted and is not unusual anywhere in the world. .....I personally don't find it a very bad thing - Ndaweni Mahlangu

 

So what? - Baleka Mbete reacting to reference to UN report on SA having world's fifth highest murder rate (Al Jazeera interview)

I am not corrupt. I am not corrupt. Go to the Free State and see what we have done there - Ace Magashule

I stand here to say thank you to Msholozi for everything that he has done for this beloved country of ours - Carl Niehaus

Is fraud a bad thing in society? - Judge Zondo.

I respect you, Chair, but I will not answer. I will not incriminate myself- Dudu Myeni 

Laughter is the best medicine. I think the ANC has been trying to bolster our slightly less than excellent health services system. The problem is that you take them seriously.

Yours in the struggle for excellence in stand-up comedy.

Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

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O Tichmann 

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Heat

 Dear Mr Cele

I may be the only person in South Africa who recognizes your genius. I see your strategy and your vision as clearly as a sunrise over Durban's Treasure Beach. (Which, I should think, you will be visiting sometime soon).

You have taken the NYPD's broken window approach to levels unimagined. You too are dealing with 'minor' crimes to discourage major crime. You are fixing the broken windows of wanton boozing, brazen beach shenanigans and so forth. Making the newly cleansed environment unattractive to criminals. I bet that anyone contemplating a heist at Camps Bay now knows to stay well away.

The movie people on the beach were an inspired choice of righteous target. Look at what goes on in the movies. Wild, abandoned boozing, smoking, violence and sex. And other things. And they have the nerve to flaunt their cameras and semi-clothed bodies on our beaches (I mean the cameramen, directors and wardrobe people). I watch movies with great reluctance, only to keep track of the depths of decadence they are willing to plumb.

Sir, I think it's an opportune time for us to meet for a fruit juice. This is not a sudden impulse. During the level 5 lockdown, I was not idle. Over a bottle of Scottish Leader that someone left on my doorstep, I analysed, weighed, measured your remarkable strategy.  I am all in. It's been alleged that, on Mr Zuma's watch, people with no qualifications or experience held high rank in the police. I, at least, have been reading crime novels since primary school. I am realistic  enough to start at the bottom  - colonel, major, that sort of thing. Nothing like having team members who are fully on board with your vision and strategy.

Yours in the struggle for crime-free beaches and cities.

Richard

2020

If George Orwell had written 2020 in South Africa:

The party's ever-present slogans fluttered proudly from deserted dairy farms, vandalized railway stations and scorched public buildings:

INCOMPETENCE IS HEROISM

DECAY IS PROGRESS

BULLSHIT IS TRUTH

Under one of the gaily fluttering banners, an endless queue snaked from the doors of the Ministry Of Employment And Plenty. The citizens were in discussion. 

"Comrade, so what if he took bags of cash? He's one of us. A prodigal son. We need the leadership."

"One of us? I don't see a Bentley here?"

"Ah, Comrade. You don't understand. The Party drives Bentleys for us. Drinks champagne with our lips".

A convoy of black-hatted police drove by, staring as intently at the crowd, as they munched at KFC.

"Look at them. On their way to the beaches. Where are they when we are being robbed and murdered?"

"Be careful in your thinking, Comrade. The revolution is a long march. The enemies of the revolution are sunning themselves on the beaches. The Goldsteins."

"The what?"

"They go by many names: capitalists, boere, Rupertists, Gordhanists, Clever Blacks, bloody agents, opposition parties... But the glorious revolution will prevail."

"This is the glorious revolution? Queues, decaying buildings, filthy streets?"

"Your thoughts are verging on counterrevolution, Comrade. But you are young. On this long march, we must be patient. You see, in the struggle, there is a different kind of truth being birthed".

"Huh?"

"Follow the Party faithfully, my young comrade. You will understand the truths:

INCOMPETENCE IS HEROISM 

DECAY IS PROGRESS"

"And bullshit is truth?"

"You have it, Comrade. You have it".

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O Tichmann 

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That's What Friends Are For, Mr Zuma

Dear Mr Zuma 

 You really shouldn't have walked out of the Zondo Commission sitting the way you did. Who knows what damage it's done to your friendship with the judge. 

 It's not easy to make friends with judges. At my last court appearance, all my friendly overtures were ignored. Talk about a one-track mind. The man was only interested in the boring details of the case. Friendly enquiries about the family, fishing, his views on the effects of tea on drivers' reflexes; these were churlishly brushed aside. That's why sir, I believe you should cleave to the good judge as Jonathan clove to David. Particularly during this season of goodwill and other stuff. 

 I am sure that there were many pleasant memories that you could have inserted into the conversation. I don't know if the friendship went as far back as playing judges and persons of interest. It was an opportunity to, as Yeats put it: 'Mix pictures of the mind Recall that table and the talk of youth..' Sir, you could have given room to your musical talent and kicked off with a variation on 'That's What Friends Are For' 

 And I never thought we'd meet this way 

And as far as I'm concerned I'm glad I got the chance to say 

That I do believe we're buddies 

And if I should ever go astray 

Well then, close your eyes and try To see the way we were before

 And then if you can remember Keep smilin', keep judging 

Knowin' you can always count on me for more

 That's what friends are for

 Come courtrooms, commissions

 I'll be on your side forevermore That's what friends are for

 Brilliant way to kick off a session, sir. Beats the hell out of the usual, stiff formality - which doesn't encourage frank, forthright, friendly exchanges anyway.

 Yours in the struggle to preserve friendships. 

 Richard

Shots Fired, Mr Cele?

Dear Fellow South Africans 

 This morning I was again jolted out of my post-Reconciliation Day torpor. An SABC newsreader reported on Mr Cele's response to a shooting at a beach in Cape Town. My first thought: Good old Mr Cele; first on the scene, like Spider-Man (which I watched yesterday). Actually, it was a shoot, not a shooting.

 I should have realised by now that the SABC takes the Alice in Wonderland approach to words and their meaning. When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less No surprises there. It fits in with the Alice in Wonderland theme, faithfully adhered to by the ANC, assorted politicians and other South African movers and shakers.

 So what if it was cameras instead of guns? That's how these things start. I'm sure Jeffrey Dahmer started out playing with plastic knives. Had Mr Cele been there, what carnage could have been prevented. The next thing you know, it'll be Uzis and AKs on the beaches. Thank goodness for Mr Cele.

 I hope the criminals are taking note of the speedy, proactive policing championed by Mr Cele. He'll probably pop up at hijackings, robberies and other incidents in similar style. It's just a matter of priorities. 

One has to watch the movie and advertising people. Such stories one hears about their excesses. Let the other criminals not be lulled into complacency. Your turn will surely come. 

 Yours in the struggle for safe beaches.

 Richard

Reconcile That

Dear Fellow South Africans

 On this Reconciliation Day, I awoke to bewildering announcements. Mr Fearbuggerall, Twitter Jedi and multi-skilled minister spoke on road safety. 

'We want to get into the bodies and souls of those behind the wheel', he said. 

Of course, I didn't take him literally. Then he asked us to hoot for life tomorrow, 17 SEPTEMBER. It all came together in a blood-curdling, suspense movie type moment. The ANC has mastered not only time travel but also some sort of astral projection / body invasion technique.

 I knew that they were up to some Orwellian stuff but this is utterly terrifying. The good news could be that our problems of corruption, poor service delivery and related stuff may soon be things of the past. Which could be the present. Or.., anyway, you do get the general idea, right? 

 The second shock of the morning. Anchor asks SABC reporter what Durban beach looks like.

 'The ocean is empty', he responds mournfully (I might have imagined the mournful part). 

Good Lord! One of two dreadful possibilities: 

1. The water's all gone 

2. There's water but no fish - or any other form of life.

 Has the Stellenbosch Mafia or some bloody agent found and pulled the plug? Provincial envy? I mean, they only have the DA and we have the awesome ANC.

 I gained some comfort from Mr Mbalula's assurance that the safest place to be now is at the airport or on a plane. I'm on my way to King Shaka (the airport- haven't quite got the time travel thing yet). Perhaps SAA has a spare, roomy Boeing lying around. If not, my camping gear is packed.

Peace, goodwill and other nice stuff. 

Richard

Counting Blessings

Dear Fellow South Africans 

 This baffles me. South Africans of all ages queue all day at government offices. They burn, thirst, hunger, shuffle from room to room, chair to chair. At the finish line of this dreary marathon, is a two minute signature. 

 SARS have an online system. Primary health care services use centralized dispensing, clubs and other initiatives. These ease the burden on patients and clinics. Both can use their precious time more effectively. There are apps for everything short of DIY brain surgery. Other government departments cling faithfully to tradition. 

We are treated to scenes reminiscent of George Orwell's 1984. These are the blessings of decency, dignity and compassion conferred by democracy? Perhaps some comrades get a warm, nostalgic whiff of the glorious past. Bread queues in Soviet utopias? 

 Of course, i am always comforted and reassured by the sight of new street names. So much effort, expense and thought. The party is hard at work. Warm affection for Big Brother. Who is watching over us. Man does not live by R1000 food parcels alone. All our troubles emanate from our version of Orwell's Goldstein. A guy called Apartheid (A devilishly cunning ogre, long banished, but still hard at work with infernal schemes to enslave the people). And counter -revolutionaries. And WMC, a close consort of Apartheid. And the Stellenbosch Mafia. 

There, I feel better. Almost got into some serious thoughtcrime. 

 Yours in the headlong dash to the brave, new world. 

 Richard

Where Have All The Taxes Gone?

To the tune of 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone?

'Where have all the taxes gone? Long time passing? 

Where have all the taxes gone? Long time ago? 

Where have all the taxes gone? 

To the struggle they have gone When will we ever learn? 

 When will we ever learn? 

 Where have all the heroes gone? Long time passing? 

Where have all the heroes gone? Long time ago? 

Where have all the heroes gone? Gone to cadres everyone  When will we ever learn? 

 When will we ever learn?

 Where have all the cadres gone? Long time passing? 

Where have all the cadres gone? Long time ago? 

Where have all the cadres gone? Gone to tenders everyone

 When will we ever learn?

 When will we ever learn? 

 Where have all the tenders gone? Long time passing?

 Where have all the tenders gone? Long time ago? 

Where have all the tenders gone? Gone to bling bling everyone 

 When will we ever learn? 

 When will we ever learn? 

 Where has all the bling bling gone? Long time passing? 

Where has all the bling bling gone? Long time ago? 

Where has all the bling bling gone? Hawks are asking everyone 

 When will we ever learn? 

 When will we ever learn? 

 Where have all the Guptas gone...

Taxing You

To the tune of Every Breath You Take: 

 Every cent you make, a percent we'll take 

 Everything you try, we'll be standing by

 We'll be taxing you 

 Everything you eat, every bit of meat 

 Every sip of beer and all your gear We'll be taxing you 

 Oh can't you see  

You belong to me 

 Cradle to the grave 

 You're a willing slave 

 Every claim you make, each expense you fake 

 Every chance you take, make no mistake 

 We'll be watching you 

 Since your first pay, 

 You have made our day 

 And a slice we'll take

 Till your cake we break

 Every cent you earn, every way you turn

 You've just got to learn, long as skies are blue

 That's what we do 

 We'll be taxing you 

 And we'll be your friend, to the very end 

 We've got debts to pay, tenders gone astray 

 We'll be taxing you

Dear Santa

Dear Santa

There are those who argue that you do not exist. The same was said of state capture and the gangster state. I am, therefore, hedging my bets. Keeping options open.

I understand that good behaviour is a prerequisite for service delivery. That's not how it works in our country. I think it all depends on where you live, which party runs the municipality and what summits of corruption and incompetence they have already scaled unscathed.

Nevertheless, to comply with your requirements, here's my report card. I believe that my behaviour has been exemplary by standards modelled on those of the politicians I emulate. I have been good throughout lockdown, maintaining social distancing from SARS, SAPS and other potentially risky contacts. I have receipts for all cigarettes purchased on the black market. No illegal liquor traversed my gullet. Just legally home - brewed stuff, incorporating pineapples, raisins and other healthy ingredients. All low-alcohol content. I think the blinding headaches were from stress occasioned by news reports.

If you can swing it, I'd like a small tender or a cadre-type appointment for Christmas. Preferably both. In any order. For the kids, some ANC and EFF action figures would be really nice. You know the type you squeeze and an interesting substance dribbles out, each time they squeak? I really like the kids' toys to be realistic. 

I do know that ANC action figures are rare but please try. 

 Yours in the quest for Christmas cheer.

 Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723