Pearls And Swine

Dear Fellow South Africans 

I was paging through the Good Book  today (being Sunday). I came across advice about not casting pearls before swine. Wondered if it had some relevance, as I'll be casting my vote tomorrow. There was also a caution about being trampled by said swine should one be foolish enough to do it anyway. My spider senses did tingle a little.

I found the story of the son who returned from the hog trough most intriguing. He'd blown his entire inheritance and now sought forgiveness. I couldn't really make a link to anything happening here. I filed it away for further rumination. Of course, I'd value input from any theologians who may read this.

Then there was the exodus from Egypt, which one of our politicians referenced recently. He neglected to mention the forty year wandering, which came as a result of worshipping a golden calf, among other things (as far as I could make out). Our record of golden calf worship doesn't fill one with optimism. I don't know whether the past twenty-seven years would be taken into account as time served. I am partial to both milk and honey. I fear that both will be above our pay grade at this rate. Unless Mr Malema triumphs. 

I suspect that fatted calves will also be in short supply. 

There was advice about being wise as serpents and harmless as doves, which I think we've rather got back-to-front over the years. Also about it profiting nothing to gain stuff (I thought t-shirt or tender - don't know why) but suffer the loss of one's soul. I might have got that one just slightly mixed up but that's the general drift.

Now, of this one I'm certain: as we sow, so shall we reap.

Yours in the struggle for clear sight and wisdom.

Richard 

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Mistakes

 Dear Mr Mabuza

I agree with you. Things are not functioning. 

Your tweet:

"We recognise that we have made mistakes and things are not functioning as 

they should. We are a strong nation, committed to dealing decisively with 

our issues and improve matters in our beloved country. #VoteANC We can deliver!"

The mistakes now. Was money looted by mistake, as in: "There I was, just a-walking down the street, singing doowa-diddy-diddy-down-diddy-do, when this enormous bag of money fell into my outstretched hands"? Or were the mistakes to do with quantity and timing? Too little, too much, too soon, too late?

Of course there's no denying that voters made mistakes and will continue to do so come 1 November. 

There's also no denying that we are a strong nation. How else could we have survived the last 27 years of dealing decisively with issues?

And, oh yes, your decisiveness shines through in the way that you have dealt with corruption. It's been stamped out, hasn't it? We can sleep now?

The shuffling within the Party has been decisive, too, by shuffle definition: 'walk by dragging one's feet along or without lifting them fully from the ground'. Perhaps that's why it's been so difficult to step aside.

We are filled with confidence.

Yes, of course you can deliver. So can Mr Delivery. It's just a question of what exactly. I, for one, have enough lawn manure already.

Yours in the struggle against mistakes.

Richard

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Wisdom And Truth

Dear Mr Mantashe 

Ever since you uttered the words below, I have hung onto your every word with the hunger of one who yearns for wisdom, knowledge and understanding:

Ndimi inyani [I am the truth], ndimi indlela [I am the way]

Gwede Mantashe to Necas board members - reported by City Press.
City Press called it a rant. I call it poetry on a level of the work of Khalil Gibran. It is original, isn't it?
I think that your most recent gem was about not criticizing the ANC if you didn't vote for the Party. It may be a little out of alignment with democratic principle and the free speech ideal. What the heck! Still brilliant. I grow every time you open your mouth. That other stuff is colonial pop philosophy and this is post-colonial South Africa. Where the lion sleeps tonight - on a full belly - while the other animals...

The other teeny problem with this is that you and the comrades are at the helm of Ship SA. Regardless of who voted for whom, no-one aboard is spared the shocks and aftershocks every time you scrape the keel. Or encounter rocks. Some say that we are on course, like that other great vessel, for our own personal iceberg. No doubt the band will still play Jerusalema and other classics, as we gently slip beneath the waves. Comforting.
This reminded me of a previous ray of molten wisdom that you once shone on us, back in 2017. It had to do with a vote of no-confidence. There is no notion of voting with conscience in the ANC, you were reported to have said.

"What do you think the ANC is, Father Christmas? I don't know where this notion comes from that we are a collection of individuals who have conscience. We are members of ANC in a party political system."

Wise words, sir. Proven true. The absence of conscience, collective or otherwise, has been amply demonstrated through the years.

Yours in the strenuous struggle for wisdom.

Richard

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Race You To The Bottom

Dear Mr Lesufi

I, too, will never apologize to racists. 

In fact, I spent this very morning looking for racists not to apologize to. A fruitless search, but judging from what I see on social media, they are, like the aliens, among us. I will also not bow to right wingers. Which is why I insist that my Spur spicy wings be taken only from the left side of the free-range chicken.

I am sure, sir, that what is spoken in Eskom's darkness, will be revealed in the light of the karpowerships or whatever comes next. 

I am in total, harmonious agreement with you. Bugger the racists. Apologize to Afriforum instead. I will accept your apology, as I am almost a member of Afriforum, just as I am almost a member of the EFF, DA, ANC and about two dozen other interesting organisations. I try to keep an open mind. Almost? I was on the point of posting my application form when I heard alarming rumours of assassination threats. You may have heard something? A journalist friend at The Daily Sun is checking this for me. Also the two dozen plus organisations. 

I must mention that I admire the calm, restrained tenor of your communications. I am filled with serene confidence and hope for education in hands such as yours. Being of a similar calm, mild disposition and between jobs, I am available to assist you in your dealings with racists and non-racists. My salary expectations are modest by New Dusk standards. As you can see, I like to keep an open hand to complement my open mind.

I can relate to the excerpt below, from a news report:

"The MEC states that he is under regular attack from various sources and that his utterances should be viewed against such background," 

 I too, am under attack from various sources;  mashonisas, bank managers, insurance salespersons and other sinister types among them.  We have much in common. 

Yours in the struggle against racism and intemperance. 

Richard 

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A Lighter Shade Of Grey

 

Jolly election song, to the tune of A Whiter Shade Of Pale 

They dance a fierce fandango

Turn cartwheels around the facts

I am getting kinda seasick 

But the crowd yells out for more

It is getting so much harder

And sanity just flew away

Then I thought I'd have another drink

But someone stole the tray

And so it was that later

As the politician told his tale

That my face, at first just cloudy

Turned a lighter shade of grey

They said, 'Listen to reason'

But the truth is plain to see

So I wandered through the history

And could not let it be

Some three hundred and more parties 

Will be vying for my vote

And although our eyes are open

They might just as well be closed

And so it was that later 

As the campaigner told his tale 

That my face, at first just cloudy 

Turned a lighter shade of grey

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Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Music to get you into the election mood:

They asked me how I knew

My party was true

Oh-oh-oh-oh,

 I, of course, replied

"The pledge that they have signed

Cannot be denied"

 (Ooh, ooh, ooh)

They said, "Someday you'll find

Loyalty is blind"

Oh-oh-oh-oh

When the braai's on fire

You don't realize

Smoke gets in your eyes

I ignored them

As I made my mark

To think they would doubt our crowd

Yet today, my bunch has gone astray

The ink has hardly dried

Now, laughing friends deride

Tears I try to hide

Oh-oh-oh-oh

So, I smile and say

"As the braai flame dies

Smoke gets in your eyes"

Smoke gets in your eyes

Smoke gets in your eyes

Smoke gets in your eyes

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For What Does It Profit...

 Call me naive (I prefer 'innocent').

I hear persistent, ridiculous rumours of our country having been sold for a plate of vegetarian  curry. That's absurd. No meat! For a mutton curry, one might momentarily consider trading a very small piece of unused municipal land. 

There has to be a logical explanation. Here's my best shot. The gentleman in question was reportedly made a pastor by some men of the cloth. Moved, no doubt, by, if not the spirit, then some spirits. In the enthusiasm of the moment, he may have read of Esau's giving up of his birthright to Jacob, in exchange for a meal. It's possible that he merely got the direction of the transaction slightly wrong. A perfectly understandable slip twixt cup and lip.

Such trade-offs are nothing new in South Africa. For all the talk of socialism and dialectical materialism, hated capitalism and the despicable profit motive are alive and well. Indeed, fat and flourishing. We are a world leader in futures trading. Even now, while election promises fly like great flocks of Kimberly flamingoes, some continue undeterred to trade our future for gourmet meals. Or sushi and tripe.

Our politicians are deeply concerned for the poor. I imagine that it hurts each time they chew on another morsel of the fat of the land. I bet it irks to have  bodyguards, free travel, expensive accommodation and other irritants thrust upon them. They're probably muttering in their restless  sleep: "That money could have gone to development" It's tough up there. No, more accurately: it's agony.

In the courtroom scene of A Man For All Seasons, a former friend betrays Thomas Moore for advancement to Attorney General of Wales. 

"For Wales? Why Richard, it profit a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world ... but for Wales!" 

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A World In One Country

 Like the president, I am shocked. Indeed, shell-shocked. 

My analyst, Dr von Schollenhofen von Eltern unter den Tannenbàumen, diagnosed PTSASD (post-traumatic South African stress disorder). Curable only by nine holes of golf.

It's been a week from hell. Taking politicians hostage is bad enough. Stupid, of course. Who, in their right minds, would pay a ransom for a South African politician? But to attack a Shisa Nyama owner! Cold-blooded brutality. That's the last bastion of service delivery in South Africa.

Elsewhere, scenes reminiscent of Blackhawk Down, as alleged Somali traders burn taxis. Mr Cele was on the scene in what seemed like seconds. The US, the UK and other less-developed nations (than ours) tend to have the local chief constable, police chief or commissioner respond in such situations. We send in the big hats..., I mean, big guns. That's why we are so far advanced. In all sorts of things.

I was present and saw a group of dubious-looking fellows with firearm bulges in various places. They were shaking with what could have been mistaken for laughter. I knew that it was fear. It's working, Mr Cele. It can only get better. It can only...

We are streets ahead of the US. They have the mafia (which doesn't really exist) and various crime corporations. In South Africa, you can hire a disposable hitman at Black Friday rates all year round.

Makes one proud to be South African.

To those hysterical alarmists who interpret the recent avalanche of disasters as meaning that the barbarians are at the gates, I say: "Don't be ridiculous." The gates are firmly locked. 

The barbarians are safely within.

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Going To The Dogs

 

• Dear SIU, Hawks and Other Crimebusters

People say that South Africa is going to the dogs. While self-respecting dogs may bridle at that suggestion, it did spark off an idea. May I, in all modesty, add, a brilliant idea.

We've long known that dogs can sniff out explosives, drugs and accelerants. Now, more excitingly, there are indications that they can also sniff out various illnesses and diseases.

What is the greatest threat to the stability and progress of our beloved country? Corruption, of course. It's been described as an epidemic. Applying the superior logic gained from observing EFF leadership, corruption can therefore be categorised as an illness. 

I suggest that we begin training corruption-sniffing dogs forthwith. While dogs sniff armpits for disease, I imagine that our canines would focus on the stomach area. One would expect a richer, riper scent than that emanating from other ailments. 

With an eye to our EFF comrades on the ground, I suggest that we don't use the popular European breeds. The use of German Shepherds, Belgian Malinois, English Springer Spaniels could lead to accusations of racism and neo-colonialism. Bruno is a Wentworth, Durban - born dog of uncertain, but indisputably South African origin. He already shows great promise, having seen off several election campaigners in fine style.  I see him as a pioneer in this new war on corruption. A sort of first among equals.

I'm working on the tender proposal, with other local dog owners and trainers. We will be needing a veritable army of trained canines. Just a hunch.

Yours in the out-of-the-box approach to the grim struggle against corruption.

Richard

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Blah Wars: The Search For The Jedi

The Ancites can make things disappear with a wave of the hand. Or flourish of a pen. 

I thought that I had at last found the mystical brotherhood of the Jedi. But all was not well. The dark side was strong within them. Rumour was that many had gone over. Planet Zuma, Planet Ace and many of the stars that had once made up the Republic now seemed to lie in darkness and confusion.

I sought out the rebel leader, General Seeyisee, With his strong convictions and vast army of clones, the general may have held hope for the Republic. But, as Yoda would have put it: 'Strong the force could be in him, but darkness there is. Contradictions too many, there are. Flip-flopping and the anger strong. Afraid I am that he is vulnerable to the temptations of the dark side.'

The blue army of the Defiance Alliance wielded their light sabres with great skill at times. Then, at others, they tripped over their own feet. Falling down and falling out often just as they seemed about to rise to the occasion.

Throughout the Republic, many other parties lay claim to the Jedi heritage. Many are untested or have discovered the power of invisibility, sometimes spoken of in hushed tones among believers.

The search for the Jedi continues.

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Phoenix

 Dear ANC

Thank goodness for the DA's propensity for shooting themselves in both feet.

What a grand opportunity for a flamboyant display of unrighteous indignation. You can cover a multitude of sins with this gift of the gods of political opportunism. And boy, we are talking a multitude. To list them would turn this post into a facsimile of War and Peace. You do know that we're talking of the Phoenix election posters. I can barely bring myself to type the name without breaking out in hives.

Interestingly, a commentator pointed out that the president and others praised people for defending their communities. But that's beside the point. Whatever said point may be.

You ought to use this opportunity like the mythical phoenix. Revive it from the  sad ashes of your own sorry campaign  at every opportunity. Why not raise a monument? We could have a danger - tape cutting ceremony. But let's go frugal; no more than a million.

Mr Cele spoke a while back. It was with a passion that we've not seen when he discourses on all the boring violence and murder elsewhere in the land. The timbre of his voice swelled with gravitas as he uttered the magic word: 'racism'. It was like seeing an otherwise placid person transformed by a stiff dose of speed. 

A suitably grave TV person spoke of 'playing with people's lives'. I thought that's what we'd been witnessing for many decades. Is that not the whole political game in our country?

Pious and sanctimonious sentiments descended like the Durban rain. I was reminded of Auden's:

In the nightmare of the dark

All the dogs of Europe bark

(Substitute anything for Europe).

Two things come to mind. One: just the matter of perspective. Two: why is made to sound as if the Phoenix community is entirely made up of mass murderers? 

Yours in the struggle for perspective.

Richard 

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Saving the zebra

 I learned from TV news that Covid is responsible for an increase in teenage pregnancies. That's at odds with what my biology teachers taught, but who am I to argue?

Political promises dominated the rest of the news, so my mind drifted inexplicably to fables and fairy tales. Here's one I heard in southern Africa.

In a green, pleasant land

lived various animals, ruled by the vultures. Why vultures? It's a fable.

The cruel, selfish vultures took most of the land for themselves and made absurd laws, restricting the movement of all other animals. This was particularly hard on the zebras, who loved to run free. They became weak, sickly and dispirited.

A band of noble hyenas overthrew the vultures, to the delight of all the other animals. Noble hyenas? Its a fable, for Pete's sake. Besides, if you're South African, that's not the most bizarre thing you've heard today. Hlophe and Mkhwebane have been nominated for the Chief Justice role.

The hyenas introduced regular leadership elections and promised many good things. The champagne taste of freedom was in the air.

However, as often happens in fables, a shaft of gloom penetrated the light. The hyenas secretly sold large tracts of land to humans, who slashed and burned. Some of them fed off the older zebra and the young. The animals were outraged.

At election time, the hyenas were contrite. They would deal with all rogue hyenas through several hyena committees. Had they not fulfilled some promises? Would they not fulfill many more? Some animals were placated. One of the hyenas could not resist nipping at the calf of a zebra. 

The party of the red-breasted squawkers loudly proclaimed that this was nonsense. They held the keys to the land of free things. To the zebras they said: "Your white stripes are the cause of all your troubles. We will rid you of them."

And, for emphasis, they marched around, hurling insults and curses at the white stripes.

Then all the animals chimed in, until the very hills reverberated with baying, howling, barking and hooting

But some of the animals quietly wondered:

"Who will save the zebras?"

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