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 

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