South Africa The Pitiful

Another alternative anthem, to the tune of America The Beautiful 

O pitiful for specious lies

Over the benighted land

For anarchy and lawlessness

On every  barren plain!

South Africa, South Africa

 God take this curse from thee

And crown thy folk with common sense 

From sea to tainted sea

O pitiful for shattered dreams

That fade with every year

For vengeful dreams of vicious men

Unmoved by human tears

South Africa, South Africa

 God take this curse from thee

And crown thy folk with common sense 

From sea to tainted sea

South Africa, South Africa

 God take this curse from thee

And crown thy folk with common sense 

From sea to tainted sea

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

It's The Most, Most Bizarre Time Of The Year

To the tune of It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

It's the most, most bizarre  time of the year
With all parties yelling
And everyone telling you it's a nightmare
It's the most, most bizarre time of the year

It's the bat-battiest season of all
With the cash in the sofas and so frantic meetings
When everyone's in on the brawl
It's the bat-battiest season of all

EFF will be toasting
The president's roasting
And RET'll put on a show 
There'll be scary spy stories
And tales of the glories of
Presidents long, long ago

It's the most, most bizarre time of the year
There'll be much mgodoying 
And eyes will be glowing
When first prize is near
It's the most, most bizarre time of the year

There'll be enemies gloating
And buffoons showboating 
And everything vile on show
There'll be hairy old stories
And tales of the glories of
The Party of long, long ago

It's the most, most bizarre time of the year
There'll be much, much mud throwing
And hearts will be glowing
When victory is near
It's a weird ghastly time
Yes the most, most bizarre time
Oh a strange,  unnatural  time
Of the year

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Elderly, Revolutionary Rubbish

 How did we get into such a mess?

People are concerned that the president may go because of a unique sofa upholstery experiment. They are terrified that what will follow will make the darkness of Mordor (Lord Of The Rings) look like a Durban summer sunrise. Orcs salivate.

How did we get here?

First the audacious lie

The turning of the blind eye

The poison by and by

Orwell understood how the liars, frauds and tinpot dictators use language: 

'Some animals are more equal than others'

'Four legs good, two legs better'

'Newspeak, thoughtcrime, unthink'

"The elderly rubbish they talk", wrote Auden, of dictators. 

Here's a guide to 'elderly rubbish' in South Africa - a glossary of terms:

Comrade - someone in your party that you will probably stick a knife into someday

Patriot - all-embracing term which can include oxygen thieves, liars, common or garden thieves

Racism - useful one-size-fits-all label for anyone with counterrevolutionary or white tendencies, their policies, values, family, friends, pets and possessions.

Revolutionary - describes all beliefs, words, actions and possessions of those fortunate enough to belong to a revolutionary organization. One may have revolutionary condoms, for example. Whether anything revolutionary actually happens is beside the point and is a preoccupation only of racist, right-wingers.

Our People - people that one may manipulate, lie to and defraud  - all for their own good.

Unafrican - whatever does not suit one's narrative or purposes at a specific time. This may shift as the tectonic plates are said to shift.

The Struggle - initially, the struggle for freedom and democracy. Now, a useful concept to dine out on. Used similarly to 'abracadabra' and 'open sesame.

Corrupt - used to describe any rival, who may or may not be as corrupt, more so or less so than oneself.

The Masses - same meaning as 'our people' just with a revolutionary flavour and a touch of contempt.

Stratcom - any communication in conflict with the pure, biltong-textured, revolutionary version.

Counterrevolutionaries - usually white-tendencied, people who dare hold opposing views to the self-evident truths held dear by comrades.

Whites - see 'White Walkers' in Game Of Thrones. Sinister, mysterious, with Marvel-like superpowers.

Van Riebeeck - powerful spirit-being behind all crime, corruption, concupiscence  and greed in South Africa. A Pale Side equivalent of the Dark Side in Star Wars.

Radical Economic Transformation  (RET) - a nebulous statement of intent, out of which has come nothing radical or transformative to date. Can be used as a meditative chant.

We tolerated the lies, turned a blind eye to the elephant taking a dump in the room, and now, only a massive amputation will save us from  the flow of poison.

This is the unpalatable, unafrican,  counterrevolutionary truth. 

The truth nevertheless.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The Measure Of A Government

 One measure of the stature and character of a country is how it treats all of its citizens.

Particularly, how it treats the vulnerable.

To mouth on about "our people" is cheap talk. It means as much as a burp from a drink-champagne-on-behalf-of-the -people politician. It's what you do that tells the whole tale.

The Great Liberation Movement has put its cards on the table. Quite clearly for all to see. Those that have eyes to see. You see it in the dawn to dusk queues at government departments. You see it in the total lack of remorse at the brazen ransacking of the public purse. You witness the indifference to the burdens that  incompetence, corruption, maladministration, gross negligence and more lay on the shoulders of long-suffering citizens.  As Hamlet put it: "the insolence of office and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes..."

The obscene flaunting of unmerited leadership  privilege  in the midst of pain and suffering is the gross icing on this poisoned cake.

But people vote in large numbers for this caricature of a governing party. Perhaps there is a perception that this is all there is. If so, a sad, sad settling for the dregs at the bottom of human potential. Shame on a leadership that scuttles along the bottom and keeps its people from even a glimpse of how bright the world can be. Shame on you.

I was reminded of this at the monthly pilgrimage to the SASSA old age pension payouts at the local chain supermarket. This is the monthly, magical, mystery tour, incorporating agonizingly long waits, mysterious halts to the process, sore knees and the usual game of 'what is the eff  is up  this time'. 

In true festive spirit, today's jolly queue was a record one. A staff member helpfully told us that the money hadn't arrived. The rest was speculation.  Had there been a yuletide cash in transit heist?  Was some official enroute to Mauritius with bulging bags?  Oh yes, you know better than to dismiss that as a silly joke. This is South Africa, a world of possibilities, most of them nasty, bizarre, defying logic or comprehension. Four hours after the queue first formed, the first payouts began.

I don't know whether our caring government  or our caring we're-here-for -you supermarket was at fault. At any rate, our business people tend to play a milder version of the government game. It's called Torture The Customer In Every Inventive Way You Can. There is an FTE variant - eff the elderly.

That, South Africa, is what your elected government thinks of you. Many businesses, like spaniels,  follow on their heels. 

Where there is callousness, indifference, selfish greed, neither stature nor character will be found. 

Just the pervasive, lingering stench of your standard shithole country (acknowledgements to Donald).

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The So Mangled Banner

 

An alternative anthem, to the tune of The Star Spangled Banner

Oh say can you see

By Eskom's weird light

How the stations are stripped

And the sleepers are stolen

Whose  broad rails and bright trains

Through the once peaceful  land

From the roadside we watched

Were so busily steaming

Now the tracers'' red glare

Bullets flying in air

Give proof through the night

That the Zamas are here

O say, does that so mangled banner yet wave

O'er the land of the free

Of the free-for-all

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The Chronicles Of Cyrus

 In the time of the Great Pestilence, Cyrus The Cautious ascended the throne. 

There was a famine in the land and Cyrus gathered his wise men together to take counsel of them. And one stood forth and cried out:

"Let every house be given, at each new moon, a piece of silver, that they may buy bread and start ice cream businesses."

And this thing was good in the sight of the king.  And it was done according to the words of the wise ones. The people rejoiced and did praise Cyrus for his wisdom. 

But in the fair land of rolling hills, the old king Jayzed remembered him of the days of his glorious reign. And his meat was as bitter herbs in his mouth, his wine as vinegar. And he cried out:

"For naught did these fellows cast me off. Did I not rule wisely and judge justly? Were not the hearts of the people knitted to mine?"

And in truth, some did lament with him, crying:

"Was ever a king so fair? Did we not sit at meat at his table and eat our fill? Who is a dancer such as he? Who singeth as sweetly?"

And many mighty men did cleave unto Jayzed. Chief among them were Asea the Magushalite and Kar El, a mighty warrior who  slew thousands in battle and spared not even his own kin. Great women, too, did minister unto Jayzed: Princess Lianda, cunning in all manner of healing herbs and salves and  Lady Endazed of the Zolites.

Now the River Ankol divided the land. On the western side dwelt the Ankolites and on the eastern side dwelt the Retites who loved Jayzed as their own son or brother.  And there were mighty men, too, who stood in the gates and by the pillars of the court of Cyrus. There was Gewad the Mantashite, Fixus the Jester and men and women of renown.

At that time, the Ankolite rulers brought charges against Jayzed. And they brought him in chains to prison. But the Retites were inflamed and they sacked the great city of Durb-An, bringing it to naught. And the Ankolites rent their clothes and some of the Ankolite officers hid them for fear. 

Then the governor of the prison, a man of great kindness, was moved with compassion for Jayzed.

"This man is stricken in years",  he said. "And he ails. I shall release him into the bosom of his family."

Then Jayzed's daughter, Dodia, prepared a great feast. And in the house was the noise of harps, timbrels and flutes. And Jayzed danced until the spirit of illness departed from him.

Then, at the time of harvest, spies came unto Jayzed and said:

"Oh, great King and mighty Dancer, knowest thou not that Cyrus hath hidden much treasure in his rooms? And he hath done so in secret, out of sight of the people and the nobles of the land."

And the Retites burned with anger. Moreover, there was no harvest in their lands, for the fields had been burned in the great uprising.

And the Retites arrayed them on the bank of the River Ankol. And they hurled stones, threats and curses at Cyrus the Cautious and his mighty men.

But Cyrus answered them not a word. He turned him and journeyed to many lands. And Charlash, king of the Anglites, Lord Machon of the Frankites, Lord Joash, son of Bidon, the Amerikite, all received him. And they showed him the treasures of their storehouse, for Cyrus did entreat them for the burden upon the land. And the darkness thereof.

But the Retites ceased not from howling with indignation. And the enmity between the Ankolites and Retites does rent in twain the Southern lands to this very day.

And the people of the land, sitting in darkness and in want, faint with weariness for the curses and the quarreling of the Retites and the Ankolites. 

And they pray for a champion, as of days of old, to quit them of the curse. But, alas, there is none.

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

The Fearsome Red Pig Attack Helicopter

Dear  Fellow South Africans

I was delighted to learn that South Africa  has been quietly building a new attack helicopter, the Rooivark (Red Pig).   

A tweet announced the joyous news:           

"PC on Defence and Military Veterans touring the locally produced Rooivark attack helicopter as part of their oversight visit to the South African Air Force base in Bloemspruit"

Clearly, between tenders for smart toilets and half-stadiums, there has been some great work. Based, I imagine, on the technology of the Rooivalk (Red Falcon) but vastly superior.

Of course right wingers, fascists, racists and stratcom agents had to spoil the moment. They tweeted huffily  that this was a shocking typing error. They then lambasted all, including a gentleman who wore a red suit, surely in salute to the pig / bird.

I had already imagined a dramatic battle scenario:

"There we were, pinned down in the swamp, surrounded by the enemy. We were ready to sell our lives dearly. Then, above the noise of battle, came the distinctive 'whump, whump, grunt, grunt' of stubby rotors. Over the tree canopy, a beautiful sight: the fearsome, rotund shapes of a squadron of 'pigs'. They were coming to save our bacon. The crackling of the radio: 'Pork One to squad leader....' I saw the fear on the faces of the enemy troops as they strained skyward. Heard the frantic yells: 'It's the red pigs. Save yourselves!'"

There was no need to be so scathing. The parliamentarians are not defence experts or career military people. It is unfair to expect them to spot fine technical issues  such as the difference between falcons and pigs. After all most civilians wouldn't be able to tell whether they had leg of falcon or leg of pork on their plates.These things are for veterans.

At least they got the 'red' part right. Not a total disaster. How mortifying if it had been typed as 'Groenvalk' (Green Falcon). We could never have lived that down. Give that typist a promotion.

Of course, it's easy to see how one might confuse falcons with pigs. Okay, one is slightly bigger, a tad slower and doesn't fly so well. Still, in a darkened room, they are virtually indistinguishable one from the other.

It may not be a bad idea to adopt the red porker as symbol / mascot for the modern SANDF. Anyone can have tigers, eagles, leopards but the fearsome, fighting pig: now there's something to strike fear into enemy hearts. It also gives new meaning to the term 'grunts'.

Yours in the struggle for a modern, mighty military.

Richard

Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted 

Capitec Bank, South Africa  

1378565477

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723