Monday 29 January 2024

Love of the Common People

 And you will live

In the love of the common people

John Hurley and Ronnie Wilkins: Love of the Common People


He said: Delores, I live in fear
My love for you's so overpowering 
I'm afraid that I will disappear

Simon and Garfunkel: Slip Sliding Away



This morning I read a comment by Cameron Dugmore that had me pausing in midcook. Actually it was the load shedding.

When a hero of one of the struggles and/ or revolutions speaks, one is bound to listen carefully.  Particularly when one is in the middle of experiencing one of the benefits of that heroic struggle, namely  thoughtfully rationed electricity. Trotsky spoke of a permanent Revolution and I'm not sure whether we are now in phase 6, 7, 8 or 9 of said revolution,  but the scuffle continues. 

Mr Dugmore said that the DA does not like black people.  I Immediately canceled my membership and would advise all people of other than pale or rosy pink hue to do the same. I also sent the DA a message, telling them that I don't like them, too.  It became clear to me that all of the good governance and improvements that they have made are entirely for white people. I stopped using some of the amenities here in Cape Town immediately. (Been on the Peninsula and Winelands tours already anyway). 

 I will instead only use whatever the ANC has provided out of love for the people - SASSA and Home Affairs offices, trains, the house of parliament.... The ANC's passionate love for the people has been clearly demonstrated over these many years. Need I enumerate:

The clean, healthy, safe, orderly environments in Durban and the Eastern Cape, among others.

The wonderfully long queues at government offices,  where one may engage in animated chat and exchange love with fellow South Africans. To be served, eventually, with ubuntu and love by caring civil servants.

The champagne drunk on our behalf (as once explained by an ANC person).

The redistribution of wealth to deserving persons through tenders and various initiatives.

The many,  many wonderful things that they have done to transform South Africa from a deadly dull country to the laughing stock of the world. Still deadly of course.  

The ANC's love for people has been dramatically demonstrated in the case in which they fought so hard and passionately in the International Court of Justice to ensure that people elsewhere have what we have in plentiful supply: 

electricity,
food,
water,
medicine and compassionate medical care,
protection from gratuitous and random violence,
 peace.

What more can one ask, Mr Dugmore?

Some years ago, a gentleman in Zimbabwe was charged with tearing down a campaign poster of Bishop Abel Muzorewa. He explained, that on seeing the poster, he was overcome with love for the good bishop and tried to hug it. A perfectly reasonable, plausible explanation. Happened to me several times. Mr Dugmore's useful, inspirational, purpose-filled comment  again filled me with love for the Party. I want to run out and rip..., I mean, hug some ANC posters and t-shirts. Let my love flow. 

We do know that the EFF overflows with love for all people in Africa. That is, except those who had the bad judgment and malice to be born Indian, Coloured or White. We know from experience, scientific research and wise judgement that such accidents of birth determine whether a person turns out to be a credit to the human race or a blood and oxygen sucking leech on the country's backside. 

Mr Malema wisely associates only with those white people who have demonstrated remorse over past oppression and are determined to make reparations. Mr Mazzotti is a prime example. A simlar symbiosis, I think, exists between Mr Zuma and Mr Liebenberg, that avowed lover of folk of colour. Yes, there is a very small group of white people who are thankfully free of ghastly white tendencies. The record of the two gentlemen mentioned speaks for itself. 

Mr Dugmore, thank you again for that inspirational message. Having just resumed my loadshedding-interrupted cooking, I now float on a cloud of optimism and onion aroma. I shall avoid the DA like the plague, or the latest Covid variant, while making use of the facilities that, in their wickedness, they provided here in the Western Cape.  Had I read your piece earlier, I would have canceled the visit without hesitation. Too late now. Well let's not throw out the baby with the bath water  (though why anyone would do something so careless is beyond me). I shall take full advantage of the clean, safe environment with all its citizen- friendly amenities, while cursing the racist, neo-colonialist wretches in my heart. 

Lots of love, affection and fondest wishes to all the caring, thoughtful comrades in the ANC, EFF, Mkhonto and other struggling (in the good sense of the word) revolutionary  movements.

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Sunday 28 January 2024

The Air Up Here

 I went camping this weekend. 


It's wonderful to escape the noisy, crowded suburbs to a noisy, crowded resort and campsite. Seriously I'd highly recommend this venue- if I were being paid. As I'm not, it shall remain nameless.

People at the campsite enjoyed themselves with family and friends. There was not a politician in sight to tell them why they shouldn't. Or to point out that the neighbours had a larger tent and more wors.

I am not an experienced camper. My camping family erected the complicated tents and gazebos with a speed and efficiency that would have sent your average tenderpreneur into a dead swoon.
 "Eish! And they're not even being paid. Something is not right." 

I met a West Indian couple once, while out of the country. On hearing that I was from South Africa, they exclaimed:
"Ah, the friendly country!"
I thought that we had gone about decolonising that particular notion over the past decade or two. Aided by our snarling, finger-wagging, fist-waving, nation-building politicians. 

Not so. People tossed out friendly greetings at campsite, pool and even the communal bathrooms. Many called me 'sir' and I wondered whether it was my knightly bearing or the gown and mortarboard from my teaching days. (I like casual, comfortable camping gear).

I wondered whether it was just the Western Cape. But I remember an elderly gentleman in a Johannesburg minibus taxi complaining that passengers didn't greet anymore. I've found that they often do. I recall growing tired, in a Northern Cape town, of returning waves from passing motorists, while sitting out in the  cool evening air. In Durban, you can strike up a conversation even in a lift - provided it's in English or isiZulu. It seems to me that we have not yet sufficiently heeded the inspirational calls ftom our Great Leaders to behave like savage packs of hyenas. Not for want of example from that Honourable lot. 

The exception was a gentleman at the campsite, who chose the late hours to expound loudly and at length on what he planned to do to someone who had clearly upset him. Shades of the State of the Nation address. His superior logic and linguistic ability reminded me of a party whose name escapes me now. His skilful use of the f verb in every sentence was a thing to marvel at. People said that he was inconsiderate. I disagree. It was thoughtful of him to outline the detailed plan. A terrible thing to get f...d up without the benefit of a thorough briefing first. I recall Mr Malema extending similar courtesies to a gentleman at a pap (Pan African Parliament) meeting. He explained to the gentleman that he would f...k him up and kill him outside. Location is important. As is the precise sequence of events.

As is the case with the party mentioned earlier, (still can't get to the name), nothing actually happened, following the yelling, the hot air, the verbal flatulence.
Fortunately, unlike the great party, the man did shut up after an hour or two. How splendid it would be if they, too, would run out of steam in 2024. It is impossible to run a modern country, hungry for peace and progress, on steam alone.

As with all things South African, Big Brother would not be ignored and made his clumsy presence felt with a contribution of two sessions of loadshedding. Even that did not dampen the spirits of the campers. In the dark, a group sang with gusto, Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika (God Bless Affica). 

Of course, I was delighted that this camping trip took my mind off the absurdities of South African politics entirely.

I salute the campers and the folks who run the wonderful campsites of our country.

Yes it is OUR country, comrades. Move forward, not backward.

Again, quoting Mr Khayyam, with minor tinkering and apologies:

The moving finger writes
And having writ, moves on
Nor all thy thuggery nor sh..t
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all thy threats wash out a word of it.


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Friday 26 January 2024

The Big Lie

The nouveau racists and professional victims in our country would have us believe the following.There is a chasm fixed in our country between people of various hues. So it is and so it has always been. Good resides in one group and evil in the other. It's the kind of arrant nonsense that no adult with a gram of common sense would entertain. Unless they wanted to - for reasons unrelated to truth or reality.


This is no different from the Verwoedian drivel that we endured for so long. With tragic, disastrous consequences. Some of our current social engineers, professional and amateur, even indulge in the same fine distinctions and categorisation as did their Nationalist  role models.

Many people that I and others know, paid the price for seeking justice and equity during the apartheid years. Some paid the ultimate price. And the yahoos spit on their graves. Unlike some of the comrades, I don't see the need to dwell on the details of their struggle (a term now so devalued). Those that lived, moved on with their lives, memories and lessons learned. 

Being black, green or puce of skin does not absolve one from the duties of being truthful, fair and reasonable. Nor is one released from the obligations that go with being a human being worthy of the name. We all know what those are.

This is not a plea for reason. There are those who prefer to dwell in the dark alleys and dingy places where the lust for hatred, revenge and the dubious pleasures of victimhood live, mingle, copulate and breed detestable offspring. Best to forget them there, in the hell of their creation. 

This is merely a comment on the Big Lie that marches through South Africa to various populist tunes. 

I leave the last word to well-known South Africans, quoted in Helen Joseph's book, 'If This Be Treason':

 'The amount of support we received when news of our arrests became public was quite astonishing, certainly far beyond our wildest expectations. 

What is more, that support came from every quarter; black and white worker and businessman,  local and International.....

A fund was set up immediately to raise bail for the accused and one of the great liberal church men of the time Bishop Ambrose  Reese,  then Bishop of Johannesburg, headed the fund. A treason trial committee was set up in Johannesburg to provide legal aid and welfare assistance and its efforts extended around the country.

 Under Canon Collins of St Paul's Cathedral a similar fund was started in Great Britain and was to become known as the Defense and Aid Fund....

I should add that among those who stood bail for us was the late Doctor Ellen Hellman,  a distinguished anthropologist, who was later to become the president of the Institute of Race Relations and the late Walter Pollack,  QC,  a leading member of the bar and a great lawyer. 

Walter M Sisulu


'The trial has been an  inestimable blessing, because it forged together diverse men and women of goodwill of all races, who rallied  to the support of the treason trial fund and to keep up the morale of the accused. 

What would have been the plight of the accused without our Bishop Reeves, Allan Paton, Dr Hellman, Canon Collins,   Alex Hepple,  Christian Action,  Archbishop de Blank,  Archbishop Hurley and all the other loyal men and women without whose help and cooperation chaos would have prevailed in our ranks?

 ... I should like to say on behalf of all the accused that our future course of conduct will justify your help, for in all things we shall be motivated by the noble urge of human unity rather than division and separativeness'.

Chief Albert Luthuli


There is truth.

And then, there is the Big Lie.



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Tuesday 23 January 2024

Just the Job, Mr President

'President Cyril Ramaphosa has called on businesses in the country to remove prior work experience requirements for job positions, in a bid to boost the employability of South Africa’s job-seeking youth.' - from a news website 


Dear Mr Ramaphosa 

I really like your proposal. I'd like to take you up on it. Consider this as taking one for the country.

I am realistic about having to start at the bottom. The Sports Ministry would suit me fine, as I am an ardent Sharks supporter. Ditto for the Springboks and the Proteas. I even watch Bafana on the rare occasions that they go beyond the first round of any competition.

Second prize would be Arts and Culture. I am a bit of a culture vulture and I like the KZN approach, which apparently once involved downing R6000 worth of booze at a function  - very artistic, very cultured. Hard work but someone has to do it. 'If it is to be, then it is up to me'. (William Johnsen).

Your own job would be safe for now. (Or until Mr Zuma or Mr Malema  or Hlaudi could well mould your seat of power to their powerful bottoms).

I cannot claim to qualify as a youth. In a parliament filled with persons glowing with youthfulness, that could be a challenge. I am sure we can get around that, as we get around corruption, criminality and everything that stands in the way of the Revolution. And progress.
At any rate, I can sleep with the best of them (in the purest sense of the word). I also have a talent for bulls..., I mean, bold public speaking. 

I am not entirely without experience, having worked in a creche and a circus in my long, undistinguished career.

To be mentored by the ANC's intellectual giants would be marvellous. There's Fikile Mbalula who fu..., sorry, fixed up so many ailing departments (damn these almost identical English vowels).  I would love to sit at the feet of the minister who landed in Geneva, bypassing Switzerland. (I'm trying to bypass Zimbabwe, on the way to Harare). Only in the ANC is such wisdom and experience to be found. Where else could one learn of carrying medicine in the head, smallanyana skeletons, crime detection by tattoos, firepools?

Mr Ramaphosa, why not build on your idea? We could cut out work altogether and just pay. I know that that approach has already been pioneered in parliament. Let's push the brown envelope further. Granted, it would be unfair to say that all politicians don't work at all. There's arduous, demanding stuff to be done:  strenuous dinnners, gruelling business class flights, unveiling of taps, foreign shopping, reading off speeches and complex numbers.... Lord, I feel weary just listing some of these.  If you think this a joke,  you try shopping for products with labels in a foreign language.

I need to mention, sir, that I have extensive experience in modern banking practice, combined with knowledge of the very latest in furniture fashions. I'm not sure how, but that may be useful down the track.

Yours in the struggle for shortcuts to the top.

Richard 


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Transparent Corruption

We all know that Africa was a  corruption - free, peaceful, thriving continent until the colonialists arrived. Okay, so there was the odd war, but these were fought in friendly, amicable fashion. (In fact, the term 'friendly fire' originated here, after a chieftain set his neighbour's house on fire, during a friendly cattle raid).

I acknowledge the research of Twitter historians and several reliable, unbiased ANC and EFF politicians for the above historical background. We now know that colonialists brought syphilis, Covid, corruption, gender-based violence and much more to our tranquil shores. Having introduced us to corruption and its succulent fruits, said colonialists then tried to snatch it away by introducing unjust anti-corruption laws and a deceptive judeo-christian moral code. Also patriarchy and other bad stuff.

Nonetheless, we took to corruption as a duck takes to water or ecoli to the Durban coastline. Perhaps Ms Zille was right in saying (reportedly) that colonialism had its benefits (or something equally profound).

I was very glad this morning when someone suggested that companies build in budget to accommodate the, no-doubt, righteous and reasonable, requirements of the construction mafia.  It's time we were pragmatic, realistic and transparent about our most successful business model and business activity. Doesn't government already do that (build in capacity) for various projects? With great success?

It's time that we brought corruption out of the shadows and Eskom-inspired darkness. And gave it its rightful place in our national life. We do it well. What's to be ashamed of? Some of my best friends are rotten, thieving bastards.

We need to get corruption into the school curriculum. I know that we already have it in other spheres in education. I can't recall any recent scandals, though. I'll check with Dr Blade.

I see such challenging, thought provoking modules in the syllabus as:

Ethical considerations in conducting corrupt business 
Creative accounting and the alternative balance sheet
A history of successful corruption through the ages
Einstein's theory of relativity applied to corrupt activity 
The corruption theme in Shakespeare's works

I feel a rising excitement. We could become world leaders in the transparent corruption 'space'. 

Oh, hang on, aren't we already....


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Monday 22 January 2024

Venom

After David Teeger was removed as captain of the under-19 South African cricket team,  one of our many, bright Twitter philosophers made the scintillating  observation that:


 "The child of a snake is a snake",

First sir,  we bow to your superior first- hand knowledge and experience of the ways of snakes. You are clearly steeped in such mysteries. One might respond that the child of a brainless buffoon is a brainless buffoon. It is quite likely, though,  that your own parents are sensible,  courteous people. They are probably grieved at the what you have become. They probably know that being a Mensch means treating people the way that you would like to be treated. It also means being sensible about commenting on people or matters that you know little or nothing about. Therein lie the seeds of the racism and discrimination that so offend your sensitive soul.
   

Of course if you are of the self- flagellating  self - hating order, that does present difficulties with following the golden rule. How kak must your life and lack of self- respect be to spend your days vomiting bile on social media?  Lately X has been teeming with your fellow snake poison philosophers and commentators. What on earth are you guys eating, drinking or smoking that you should be so miserable? Come on man, you're going to do yourself an injury. There's more to life than lying in the grass like a fat puff adder, waiting to inject your venom into the first pale foot that dares tread nearby.

Of course, you might fling the 'kak life' accusation back at me. I just thoroughly enjoy pointing out the rich talent in the room, which might otherwise  go unnoticed or unchallenged. What the heck, let's celebrate your valiant, uniquely South African struggles against the ghosts of van Riebeeck, Apartheid and other real threats to the revolution.

If you are really so concerned about justice and equity, do something more useful than spewing whatever you're feeding on into the twittersphere. Go help someone. Lots of people in South Africa do just that. Or you could write something (seeing as you are a person of letters) vaguely useful. But please to engage brain before speeding off. Used brains are more in demand in South Africa than the no-mileage models.

Ah, but of course, this is all racist, colonialist nonsense that trivializes the lived experience of the black child. Right? What shade of child thinks and writes this is immaterial. White tendencies, bloody agents, Uncle Toms, house negroes, sellouts - these are at the root of your unbearable misery. I feel for you, snake expert. The sensible thing is to ignore your flatulence and that of your ghoul club. But hell, you are as repulsively fascinating as a nest of fat, hissing reptiles (sorry, Durban snake chap).

Some members of your sad Whatsapp group have been complaining about lack of 'white support' for the national football team. They bitterly contrast it with support for the Springboks. And they, of course, have the latest stats on support by shades of paleness or tan? That sounds so ludricrous, doesn't it? Just enjoy your soccer and your Castle Lite man. Leave people alone. Let's cut to the chase: they play kak. Most of the time. I, for one, don't see the passion and determination of a Kholisi, Etzebeth, Miller or every other Springbok and Protea player. I don't see it in our soccer players. It truly seems to be a case of separating the men from the bafanas. Perhaps I'm as biased as you are when it comes to Bafana.. Or perhaps you snake experts should just grow up.



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Friday 19 January 2024

No Use Crying Over Spilled Beans, Comrades

In Durban, rampant crime continues, with a CIT - Chow in Transit - heist. 


This from a tweet:

"Tonight a delivery driver in Durban was robbed of his pizza at gun point...." 

The president and I are shocked. Incidentally, Mr President,  thanks to you, I understand at last Hamlet's reference to the 'thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to'. You've had them all, haven't you sir? If only Miss Gray, my old English teacher, were still around.

Mr Cele is apparently preoccupied with a different food challenge. He has invited Mr Zuma to go ahead and spill the beans he has been hugging to his bosom these many years. And threatens to spill at intervals. He is not the only comrade who has threatened to scatter the beans abroad.

You comrades do realize that this makes you accessories after the fart..., sorry, fact, don't you? Even Mr Ramaphosa reportedly  spoke of sooner falling on his mkhonto than revealing the dark deeds of various patriots. The smallanyana skeletons may not be so smallanyana after all.  Fine example, gentlemen and ladies. It may explain in part why we have become such a lawless people that even a thin crust in transit is not safe. 

One can imagine the poor delivery guy trying to hand over his cellphone, only to be nudged in the ribs with a gun barrel.

"We want the pizza, now".

Were these the most unsuccessful villains in the country, to sink so low as to steal a pizza at gunpoint? Was it the topping that tempted them beyond endurance? 

A great advertising opportunity for the smart pizza person:

"Pizza to die for!"

After downing my R6000 booze allowance at a KZN Arts and Culture function, last year, I wrote this:

'Two South African businessmen walk gingerly down a steaming, hot Durban sidewalk in their Calvin Klein undies.

"They got you too, Mark", says one, briefcase arm dangling uselessly'.....

When I'd, er, rested, I cringed at how silly and fanciful it was. Well, not so silly or fanciful after all. 

Mr Cele, Mr Ramaphosa and comrades: while you squabble over beans and which came first, the ANC or the Mkhonto, brazen criminals are snatching the takeaways out of our mouths. 

How shithole does a country have to be to have food in transit heists carried out by armed villains?

Gentlemen, please pack for polling season.

You have outlived your uselessness for far too long.



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