Sly Way

Enough of depressing politics. Some music.

To the tune of My Way

And now the time is here 

We've got your vote and that's for certain 

My friends we'll light the braais,and you can eat until you're hurtin'

We've filled your ears with bulI, took you down each and every byway

And more, much more than this,  we took the sly way

Regrets, well just a few

But then again too few to mention 

We did what we could do, took what we could, without exemption

 We planned each charted course

 Each blue light dash along the highway

 And more, much more than this

 We took the sly way 

You've moaned, protested, cried

But haven't had your fill of losing 

You'll never turn the tide

It's so bizarre and so amusing

To think we did all that

And may we say, not in a shy way

Oh no, not ANC, we took the sly way.

 Yes, there were times I'm sure you knew

 When we got into deep doodoo

 But through it all, when there was doubt we made stuff  up and spat it out 

You ate it up, some took the fall

We took the sly way

 For what is this land, what has it got? 

We've looted some, there's still a lot

To tempt the heart of one who steals

 And at the trough of gravy kneels

 No record shows

 Away it blows

We took the sly way 

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Tymebank , South Africa  

51090259373

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Ice Cream Businesses

 Dear Mr Ramaphosa 

My comrades, (real comrades), and I took careful note of your threat.. pardon, warning, about the possible disappearance of NSFAS and social grants, should the ANC receive a deserved bollocking at the polls 

We love it when campaigning politicians lay out bold, inspirational plans and visions for the future: life, liberty and the pursuit of ice cream businesses. We got to thinking about what else could disappear if you and the comrades rode off into the sunset, fat pensions tucked into your saddle bags. 

We would probably miss the gobbledygook and the balderdash that is poured out daily. I recently learned a new word while playing the Balderdash board game.  Bumbilation refers to buzzing and humming noises.  We would, of course, miss your unceasing bumbilation and your admirably consistent bumbling. 

I suppose that we would have to rely more on the EFF, MK and assorted splinter parties and proxies for our daily ration of humour. 

Would corruption disappear? I don't know. It seems to be so embedded in our South African Souls. We have been accustomed to having it with our breakfast cereal,  morning tea and every meal thereafter. A friend once said that she actually feels dirty driving through South Africa. Perhaps a bit extreme but graphic enough.  That is the thing about wading through horse manure and the ordure of bulls daily. 

As a child, I and my other real comrades had the rare treat of attending a circus for the first time in our rural area. The circus was a complete fraud,  as we discovered later when the fire eater,   equestrian, tightrope walker and others turned out to be the same multitasking  man  in various disguises.  What's more he was a local fellow who swore in fluent  isiZulu when a hammer was dropped on his toe, while he went through his 'Mustapha, The Amazing Egyptian Magician' act.  Angry folk trashed the big top and even the lone horse and a few goats took flight. The next morning there was not even the slightest trace to tell that the circus had come to town. One hopes most sincerely that the disappearance of your circus will be as complete and final.

We too,  are weary  of the sloppy performances. The ring master who drones on but never says anything of consequence. Whose promises inevitably fall as flat  as the tightrope walker who made his tentative, timid walk on a disappointingly low wire. The equestrian who might as well have been flogging a long dead horse. The magician whose best contribution was the string of curses that he uttered when hammer met toe. 

We are utterly weary of being defrauded in this inept,  sham circus show.  We have had far more patience than the angry citizens who chased the ring master and multitasking performer into the night. We too want a refund on our exorbitantly expensive tickets. 

If you think this harsh, it's not as harsh as the reality that after almost thirty years of freedom and democracy, we ruminate and regurgitate, like slow oxen, the same cliches, slogans and elusive promises as at the beginning. We sit in the same real darkness of Eskom and the almost equally palpable darkness of a society compassed about by anger, hatred,horrific crime, hopelessness and corruption. There must be something deeply wrong with freedom and democracy,  then. Oh wait. Does it perhaps have anything to do with the people that we naively trusted to lead us fearlessly into the New Dawn of freedom and democracy? 

Comrades, you could redeem yourselves  by performing one really  good circus trick  - disappearing completely.

Yours in the struggle for life, liberty, the pursuit of ice cream businesses  and the removal of bumbilating politicians.

Richard 

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How to Win Voters and Influence People

Dear ANC

You never disappoint. I've been concerned that you may not be able to top 'smallanyana skeletons', ruling till Jesus returns and other unforgettable, immortal quotes.

But you have again reminded us never to underestimate your genius for the truly bizarre. Apartheid runs amok through the land, burning buildings, stuffing up everything that can be stuffed up.  And even some things that, in a normal world,  cannot be stuffed up with the best will. 

You have topped all of that. Not even swart gevaar of days gone by could set people on a tremble like the prospect of losing student grants and social grants. Bravo! Perhaps we learned this brilliant electioneering tactic from our maste..., pardon, friends in Moscow. Or are we at the exalted place where we could teach them a thing or two? In addition, that is, to training them in the use of the nighttime fokol that we loaded onto their ship.

I believe that you need to turn up the volume on threats, sorry, warnings of this kind. For always at my back I hear, the polling day approaching near. Apologies to T S Eliot. 

You really need to work this apartheid thing. You've got to get it to the sinister, scary heights of the White Walkers legend in Game of Thrones. I don't want to be rude, but given your, er, dismal, comical performance in government, what else can you take to the voters?

A friend called it dirty, dishonest, fear-mongering electioneering. (So serious, my 'clever black' and 'colonial clerk' friends).  I would not go that far. It's pit toilet grade stuff but there are those who would drink sulphuric acid if the Great Leaders called it kool aid. This is as brilliant as anything vomit..., sorry, churned out by great strategists like Stalin and the North Korean bloke with the Afrikaans name - Jong something.

Viva ANC. Viva!

Yours in the struggle to renew the great Liberation Movement.

Richard 

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Confessions of a Colonial Clerk

Dear Aunt Betty 

 

 I am in desperate need of your advice.  I have endured such scorn and abuse as is usually reserved for those who suggest that Mr Zuma so much as glanced sideways at dirty money.

The thing is: I don't know why. You see, I penned a perfectly harmless tweet and signed it 'Colonial Clerk'. I am indeed a clerk in an Eastern Cape municipality. As some of us still call the Eastern Cape 'eKoloni' (the Colony), I thought this a mildly witty effort. An avalanche of vitriol descended on me from supporters of the ANC, EFF and a dozen other abbreviated organisations. I had no idea that clerical work was so despised. Some accused me of being in league with the Oppressors. 

So depressed was I by the negativity and naked hatred that I began seeing a psychiatrist. We have been dating now for six months. That is going well except for when she frequently asks: "How does that make you feel?" The other problem still remains. I still get angry and sarcastic questions about Johan Rupert

(whom I have never met), the CIA and my 'handlers'. I thought that being in the company of such well-known people as Redi Tlabi, Thuli Madonsela and Phumlani Majozi might help, but despair weighs me down like a smallanyana, but weighty, skeleton in the cupboard.

Should I resign my position or request a name change to my job title? That seems to have worked very well for various cities and streets on South Africa. Many of them are still impoverished and filthy but there's something about a new name. Like wearing one's new Christmas clothes for a day, before getting back into one's grubby shorts and party t-shirt.

Perhaps I should join the new Mkhonto party. It seems to have given Mr Zuma a new lease on life. I am already a card-carrying EFF member (aside from my Pick 'n Pay and Shoprite cards). I feel that it is time for change, as my psychiatrist friend keeps reminding me. Perhaps being in a party that scores above ten percent in by-elections will revive my flagging spirits. Don't get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoy singing jolly songs about killing people, while marching on an assortment of despicable organisations. I just have a hunch that this new party may well represent the noblest, purest aspirations of our people.

Aunt Betty, I treasure your advice as Mr Ramaphosa treasures ANC unity, love and peace. And the preservation of their good name and reputation for competence and integrity. I hope to hear from you soon. I'll listen on the radio, loadshedding permitting.

Yours in the struggle for restored respectability.

Richard 

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Tymebank , South Africa  

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Delusions and Hallucinations

The input that I get from assorted learned people on X gives me great hope for South Africa. 

The sparkling repartee, the cool,  thoughtful comment -  I grow with each encounter.  A gentleman once suggested that I f&%k myself.  Intriguing though the proposal was from a perspective of scientific enquiry, I declined. My counter-proposal was that he perform the action on himself, as he was unlikely to experience any other intimacy, given his quaint attitude  and limited communication skills.

Someone kindly advised me that I was delusional, after I quoted some of Mr Zuma's more interesting utterances. I carefully noted that for discussion with my analyst at our next session. Now I could have sworn that Mr Zuma did indeed make those utterances. But I suppose that's the nature of delusion. Who knows where it may lead? 

Admittedly, some.. sorry, many,  of the utterances and delightful shenanigans of Mr Zuma and  comrades are so bizarre that they may well be the product of severe delusion. 

More recently I was advised that I am hallucinating. This followed some comment on some of Malema's  intriguing statements and actions. Now to go from delusion to hallucination has to be a serious matter. I suppose that I ought to be concerned.

I noted that input as well and brought forward my meeting with my analyst Dr von Schollenhofen von Eltern unter den Tannenbàmen. We will have, I imagine, much to discuss and I am grateful to the aforementioned Twitterati  for their concern for my mental and emotional health. And for their diagnoses. It's difficult in South Africa and one can use all the help one gets. They have also  saved me a few thousand rands in psychoanalysis.  Like Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire,  I have come to rely on the kindness of strangers. 

Of course, these exchanges do lead one down a rabbit warren of Alice-like proportions (she of Wonderland). Could it be that these exchanges on X were themselves but the offspring of delusion and hallucination. If I responded with 'gaan krap in die mielies', would the phantoms of my fevered imagination respond? How would I know where reality ends and fantasy begins? Or vice-versa? 

What if Mr Zuma and Mr Malema are themselves but the stuff of delusion and hallucination joined in unholy matrimony?  Their surreal adventures suggest such a possibility. A book on their exploits would be rejected out of hand by any publisher worthy of the name. Also by readers. Even if nestled between Star Trek and the Harry Potter books. What would destroy suspension of disbelief would be the notion that people in South Africa actually took them seriously.

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Seeing The Light

Dear Mr Zuma

My heartfelt thanks for your wisdom and guidance.  I was on the verge of making a terrible mistake at the polling station. 

I understand that you said that a vote for the ANC is a vote for WMC.  Now, I mistakenly thought that a vote for the DA was a vote for WMC.  Ah,  but now I see it clearly. A vote for The DA is a vote for apartheid.  Thank you for making that clear distinction. It would be a terrible thing to think that one had made one's mark for WMC only to find later that it was actually a vote for apartheid. Or vice -versa.  I wish that these political parties would make it as clear as to what we are actually voting for. 

Following the advice of Dr Ace I have managed to steer clear, to date, of voting for proxies for such sinister organizations as the CIA, who apparently also control the ANC.  For all that I know, I may well have unwittingly voted for George Soros and several other shadowy parties over the years. There is so much that we don't know. So many plots and conspiracies, so little time. For example, a plot against Mr Mashatile was recently brought to light. By Mr Mashatile.  Thanks to such Eskom-like shafts of light into the  new dusk of South African politics, we are not ignorant of the dangerous world we inhabit. Thank goodness,  Mr Zuma that you have come out of your corner for another round. 

This is the kind of clarity and transparency that we have lacked in South African politics since your reluctant retirement.  My sole request  is that you now unmask the kingmakers behind all South African political parties.  I have heard, for example, unsettling   rumours that a vote for the EFF is a vote for foreign powers. Names such as Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana have been tossed around.  So stressed was I by the revelation, that I had to buy a pack of cheap cigarettes from my local spazza in order to calm down.  

Word is that you have teamed up  with passionate supporters of pan-africanism and the cause of RET. I have heard the name Liebenburg thrown around. I understand that he is a poster boy for the struggle against racism.  Apparently he was heard expounding on his enlightened philosophy in a leaked tape.  It's important to have allies with similar values as oneself. Particularly those who will not be swayed by materialistic temptations.

You reportedly said that you would die an ANC member. But you will not vote for the ANC. That does make perfect sense. After all voting and dying are two different things. Though, in South Africa, the connection can be close.

 I would also like to know whether you have now made a theological leap of change of direction. Will the ANC still  rule until the Lord returns or do you have a new revelation on this matter? Perhaps revealed to you in a troubled dream during your brief period of martyrdom in the prison in Escort. A sort of Joseph experience.  I know that having been ordained as a pastor, you are very much in touch with the spiritual realm.

Well sir, having listened to your gooseflesh-raising comeback speech, I now await with patience the further revelations that you will be blessing us with. Just as I have been waiting many a long year for the beans that you promised to spill, some time ago.

You did mention that you have been suffering from a cough or some other throat problem.  This is a concern. I suspect that this is what has kept you from attending various court hearings and other appointments. I was once troubled by a similar ailment that kept me from writing several math tests. I recommend daily doses of a heated buchu brandy,  ginger, lemon and honey mixture. Should that not do the trick, a large dose of castor oil, perhaps. It may not clear the throat but does wonders for a clogged digestive system. Beans can do that.

Yours in the struggle for truth, transparency and a seat at the groaning supper table.

Richard.

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Tymebank , South Africa  

51090259373

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723

Quality

Dear Fellow South Africans 

I agree with Mr Ramaphosa's view that we should stop bad-mouthing our country. In fact, he took the words out of my mouth as adroitly as SARS takes the bread out of my mouth. And corruption takes the peanut butter and jam.

Of course, he did not say that we should stop bad-mouthing the ANC. So here goes! Just joking.

South Africans do go on far too much about incidents of so called corruption. For example, there was a huge outcry about the R280 000 Eskom brooms, the slightly cheaper mops, quality knee-pads and flourescent lights. (Of course, one needs good knee-pads to perform the traditional obesiance to assorted politicians and SOE celebrities).

The point, dear countrymen, is that it is not all about quantity. Japan rose on a wave of quality improvement. And so do we. It is silly and absurd to assume that a R280 000 broom is for sweeping floors only. Clearly this particular broom doubles as a means of transportation. No Eskom executive need ever be late for a meeting or a bonus negotiation session.

Someone complained on X about a culvert that supposedly cost R22 million to build. It looks like a pretty straightforward job and it's none too pretty. But then, these things can be deceptive. Who knows but that there's an exquisite, subtle, artistic tribute here to Hamas tunnel and culvert workmanship elsewhere. What with our being on such comradely terms. 

It's possible that the cost has been falsified to discredit the ANC. A project of that sort is surely worth about R40 million at current BBBEE tender rates. Here's the kicker. There are allegations that the cement was not even taken out of the cement bags. The full bags were instead stacked and used like bricks. Now, steady on here chaps. Don't let bitterness and cynicism blind you to our marvellous technical advances and achievements. Have you not seen or used 'cook-in-the-bag' food products. I think that the same principle has been applied to our cement. A leap of creativity and innovation. This is a moerse Vorsprung durch Technik.

So, there you are Mr Alfred and your fellow cynics. Just as Mr Ramaphosa urged us to look at the brighter side of loadshedding (paradox though that is), so I urge you to celebrate our advances and achievements. Give credit where credit is due (of course, cash in brown envelopes and black plastic bags is preferable).

I remind you all that, to this day, only in a South African hospital can you swop dowdy hospital gowns for trendy skinny jeans. If that isn't Vorsprung, then I don't know what is.

Yours in the struggle for quality.

Richard 

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Tymebank , South Africa  

51090259373

O Tichmann 

+27 833970723