Oddfellas

Oddfellas

Tuesday, October 31st, 2017

Dear Mr President

You’ve done it again. We would  be insane not to grab this moment and start filming Oddfellas immediately. What a story, what a cast of characters! The headiest mix of the best of Goodfellas, The Godfather and All The President’s Men. I see you blowing Marlon Brando away as a sauve don with a trademark giggle that many actors will imitate for years to come.

Great picture on the front page of The Sunday Times. It would make the perfect movie poster. Nice touch there - the hand on heart, the suit and the shades. All the enigma and cool of a Sicilian movie-don. Don Zuma has quite a ring to it, don’t you think?

You seem intent on going out, not just with a bang but with a spectacular fireworks display. To call you a man of surprises would be like calling Ali a middling boxer. The bard could have said of you: ‘Age has not withered him nor custom staled his infinite variety.’ You are truly deserving of the title ‘Msholozi, Man Of Mystery’. All that you need is a superhero cape..oh, sorry, the DA has the cape.

You have friends in high, low and subterranean places. You introduced mixed martial arts and cage fighting into the house. Your rugby - style cabinet substitutions will probably become standard practice in all democracies. Now you unveil a cast of friends straight out of Goodfellas. Like David Miller of the Proteas, you have hit a succession of sixes. What’s next on your bucket list?

Incidentally, there was an allegation that the other Zuma received support from purveyors of dirty cigarettes. I did buy a pack once that had gravy stains on it. I hope they were gravy stains. Mr President, some of my best friends also inhabit a parallel universe, where the law is concerned. They are not as philanthropic as yours are said to be. Best I did was the odd beer at the Saxonworld Shebeen. If the claims are true, you could buy the shebeen many times over with the friendship gifts to you and yours. You could teach networkers about networking.

Enough of this small talk, Mr P.   Let’s draw up that movie deal for Oddfellas and buff up our Oscar acceptance speeches.

Yours in the quest for great South African films.

Richard

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How The West Won

Sunday, October 29th, 2017

Dear Mr President

You lost an opportunity to dent the confidence of the DA yesterday when the Sharks lost by the narrowest of margins (about 11 trifling points). I notice that some newspapers still call the other team Western Province, which proves my point that the DA have an Invictus - type project going to unite those wine farmers behind them. Though I am a good sport, I will be drinking only Namaqualand wines from now on.

I suppose we should congratulate that other team on achieving the narrowest of victories. I wish them a wonderful victory parade in driving rain. Feels good to be gracious in defeat.

Mr President, I still think that a commission of inquiry is called for, just to ensure that all was above board. As you well know, in sport, as in politics, things may not always be as they seem. For example, we thought for a long time that you were a real president, only to discover that your genius lies in the realm of mass entertainment. I suggest the following questions for all match officials and groundsmen:

Do you have relatives, friends or distant acquaintances in the Western Cape?
Have you been up Table Mountain and who paid?
Have you ever mistreated a banana?

I have several other penetrating questions and will mail them soon. One cannot be too careful. Talking of penetration, the other team did attack very well indeed with ball in hand. (Thought I’d use that phrase beloved of sportscasters, though I don’t see where else the ball would be - it’s not soccer). You might consider that Carr chap for your Christmas cabinet reshuffle. He twisted and turned his way past the excellent Sharks defence with the adroitness of a seasoned politician. No- one would ever be able to, for example, pin Saxonworld associations on him.

Well, Mr President, after a good final, it’s back to the boring business of dodg.., sorry, critical nuclear deals, inquiries and fending off the unwelcome attentions of the likes of Mmusi (now flushed with victory) and the irrepressible Julius.

I wish you interesting times.

Yours in the love of sport and sportsmanship.

Richard

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Out Of Africa. Being the diary of one Herbert Nosworthy, explorer, discovered by Richard J Mann while exploring hitherto undiscovered regions of the Germiston library

Saturday, October 21st, 2017

To my Noble Patron

Your Grace, we set forth from the Ruins of Zimbabwe, ruled with a cable of iron by one called Unclebob. Our journey through this part of the dark continent was fraught with perils. Chief among them the Zimbabwean border post, where the tiresome filling of documents brought strong men to their knees. Only our duty to His Majesty (long may he reign) and our beloved England sustained us, as did the desire to show faithful service to your gracious person.

At last we set foot upon the soil of that mysterious land South Africa, or Mzansi, as it is called in the native tongue. Colonel Bottomley was most desirous of meeting military men of the warlike Zooloo tribe, for their fame, as Your Grace well knows, has spread beyond their borders. It seemed fitting to me that our own gallant forces should not be ignorant of the stratagems and tactics of military men of foreign lands. We repaired with as much speed as the primitive terrain allowed to the land of the Zooloos.

There fortune smiled upon us, for our arrival coincided with a visit by that great chieftain, Umshowlozy. We mingled with the crowds at an address given by this august personage. The colonel remarked several men in warrior dress. Impressive in bearing and no doubt men of courage and skill, the colonel remarked that their primitive weapons would make them no match for His Majesty’s gallant troops. Of course, he added, such a military encounter was extremely unlikely. The address of the chieftain was interspersed with much giggling. He was clearly a man of genial disposition. To our not inconsiderable surprise, he suddenly burst forth into song, gyrating vigorously in what appeared to be a war dance. When the crowd joined in, the colonel began to fumble for his pistol but I assured him that the natives were in festive, not restless mood. He muttered that he could not conceive of young William Pitt cavorting in the Commons to the tune of Greensleeves.

We departed for the fabled City of Gold, where many warriors had gone to seek their fortunes digging for the precious metal or racing chariots for men of wealth. By day, beaten by the fierce African sun and by night our ears assailed by the roaring of wild beasts and the throbbing of tribal drums to a primitive music called quaito, we pressed on. Of gold there was little to see, but great mounds of rubbish filled the streets. The only gold that we espied was in the teeth of a most unprepossessing fellow who furtively attempted to sell to us, first timepieces, then his cousin. Many persons tried to press upon us meats cooked on open fires and other victuals. The colonel did purchase a quarter loaf of bread, hollowed out and stuffed with diverse meats, for he pronounced himself famished.

The natives, rushing to and fro with perplexing haste, were not unfriendly. Many hailed us in their own tongue with what sounded like ‘Howzit’ and ‘Aweh”. We did indeed remark many Zooloo charioteers. They hurtled through the streets, hurling their conveyances into the traffic as one imagines they once hurled themselves upon the foe in battle. They uttered fearsome oaths at any that dared hinder them. Indeed, a sight as fearful to behold as the clashing of cavalry in battle.

Surely many trials await us still as we explore this strange, savage land. We have heard tales of the Free State province, where giants roam the land. They are much given to a sport which resembles the  chaos and carnage of infantry charges  - all in pursuit of an oval ball, which once gathered, is then kicked away. This peculiar sporting event is consummated with the consumption of mounds of roasted flesh and gallons of ale. One never ceases to be surprised at the outlandish customs of the natives here. Out of Africa, always something new as Pliny or Aristotle or one of those Greek fellows opined.

I shall be diligent to write to you, Your Grace, of the next part of our journey in this savage, yet intriguing land.

Until then, I remain,
Your humble servant,
Herbert Nosworthy

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The Party Rock Anthem.

Wednesday, October 18th, 2017

Dear Mr President

I was so concerned about your recent silence that I contemplated sending a bucket of our traditional dish, KFC, to cheer you up.

It was most gratifying to see you come out of your corner swinging like Ali on steroids. You knocked us all out with another of those delightful surprises that keep the nation on its toes. We had no idea that you were quietly sharpening the blade (and in one instance, blunting The Blade). I cannot help but picture you as a jolly, Woody Allenesque version of the grim reaper, chuckling away with each swing of your scythe. Are you perchance planning a December shuffle also, as a Christmas gift to the country?

The Party Rock Anthem is probably best remembered for the line: “Every day I’m shuffling,” May I suggest that you add this song to your album? Why not lead a daily (toe the) line dance with your cabinet, to that cheery tune? Apart from the welcome change from that other song, it will remind ministers that their tenure depends on complete obedien…,er, performance. (Incidentally, did anyone ever actually bring you your machine gun?)

I read that some of your new ministers did not quite cover themselves with glory in previous roles. Also that some have been severely criticized for questionable links, actions or just for inaction (see Home Affairs, State Security and Communications, for instance). Was this a criterion for selection? Well done in applying it quite consistently. Cynics may say that you have motives other than performance and delivery. I, of course, believe that you are determined to keep the nation entertained at any cost. For that, I salute you. I see the Mzansified new Party Rock Anthem and the Zuma shuffle taking dance floors by storm. You continue to enrich our culture - among others.

Has Donald congratulated you yet on the stinging klap that you administered to the communists? This should bring you closer together, what with your shared interest in standup and ortho - oral gymnastics.

One dictionary definition of shuffling is ‘dragging one’s feel without lifting them’. Unkind souls would seize upon this to describe what you are doing. Staunch supporter that I am of your unique approach to government and entertainment, I simply say: ‘Shuffle on!’

Yours in the long shuffle to freedom.

Richard

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The Empire Strikes Back

Wednesday, October 4th, 2017

Dear Mr Mantashe
Just five minutes ago a hysterical headline screamed out that the ANC may be in a civil war. Please confirm whether this is merely what Donald termed fake news or whether we should start raiding Shoprite for canned goods. Can we expect a South African version of North versus South, with the clatter of chairs replacing the thunder of cannons? On that note, may I suggest the use of plastic or bolted - down chairs for future meetings. Perhaps we should extend that to plastic crockery and cutlery as a safety precaution.
Personally, I believe that this is a typical exaggeration by the white monopoly capital - controlled media. It’s when people start throwing tables that one ought to be concerned. Mr Mantashe, I believe that various elements have hatched a nefarious plot to discredit your organisation. Oh, knavery! Let us not forget that KZN was the last outpost of the British Empire and our British friends have a sentimental attachment to former colonies. I would therefore look for the involvement of MI5, MI6 and any other alphanumeric combinations those cunning islanders may have dreamed up. Our intelligence services have a superb track record of unearthing similar plots. I would put them to work immediately, or at least after lunch. To those who cry ‘paranoid ramblings’, two words: Bell Pottinger. Did not their Italian -made loafers walk on England’s green and pleasant land? I am not suggesting that they are behind the skullduggery but merely pointing out what tangled webs may be woven by that ‘nation of shopkeepers’. Lest I be accused of being xenophobic, let me point out that some of my best friends are British. Tony can confirm that. I also agree with the poet Ogden Nash that the British are sweet and always land on their own or someone else’s feet.
As for the Eastern Cape, we know how easily they are influenced. Political correctness and sensitivity constrain me from elaborating further than to allude to a historical incident involving large numbers of livestock.
Mr Mantashe, the pattern is clear.  KZN to Eastern Cape…The Western Cape is next and with its easygoing, wine - sipping approach to life, will be easy prey for those manipulative scoundrels. I suggest a pre-emptive expedition to that fair province. I am willing to join you, as I have insights to contribute. Any humble five star hotel will do as a base of operations. I read a news article which made reference to creative use of a large intelligence fund. My modest expenses should not pose a problem, as I am sure that one more million will not be sorely missed.
Mr Mantashe, one other nagging concern is that your party is beginning to resemble both the EFF and the DA with their exuberant approach to the conduct of meetings and their use of litigation. This will not do. We need diversity. Please do let me have an itinerary soon as I will need to arrange for leave from my day job.
Yours in the struggle against recycled colonialism.
Richard

One Day

One Day

Tuesday, January 7th, 2020

Dear Lotto Guys

I thought it fair to inform you that I plan, intend and am firmly resolved to sue. You, of course, among others.

I think that your methods, practices and standard operational procedures border on the unethical. Perhaps, like illegal Mexican or Zimbabwean immigrants, even traverse that invisible boundary. One would have thought that there should be some reward for persistence, loyalty and effort. Instead, you constantly change the goalposts, deliberately thwarting my efforts. I have supported you since the age of twelve, when I used documents artistically created by a friend to prove that I was older than I looked (knowing, of course, what suspicion and wickedness lurks in the heart of man). The most I have ever won was R50. This cannot be right, fair, ethical or even vaguely within the law of averages. As the Germans say: ‘Zuviel ist zuviel.’

I am not paranoid, as my analyst, Dr von Schollenhofen von Eltern Unter den Tannenbaumen, will readily teatify. Obsessive-compulsive, yes. I am convinced that you change your combinations each time simply to sidestep my own updated, logically constructed combinations. To those who consider such an assertion ludicrous, I refer you to the following bizarre events in the beloved land and elsewhere. Our former president was allegedly targeted by more spies than have cavorted on the silver screen since Hollywood’s inception. Various ‘novelists’ have concocted the most ludicrous tales of the supposed adventures of this quite probably innocent, naive man. The Democrats in the US, in a show of monstrous disloyalty, are trying to impeach that honest bricklayer. I could go on. Suffice it to ask, then, how far-fetched it would be for a sinister cartel to plot against honest citizens merely doing their humble best to achieve the modest goal of being fabulously wealthy.

I have records of every draw stretching back to 1979, as well as of my own entries. I intend to call mathematicians (including a former president), astrologers, sangomas and other learned persons as expert witnesses. I should think that, by now, wishing to avoid scandal, thoughts of an out - of- court settlement have crossed; or at least, caressed your minds. I am a reasonable, rational man as must be evident from the tone and content of this courteous missive. I will certainly entertain any offers tentatively, or boldly, approaching the sixteen million mark. I am willing to overlook that you have hindered my altruistic goal to provide gainful employment to folk working on luxury cruise liners and in five star hotels. Let bygones be bygones. Just show me the filthy lucre. Call me magnanimous.

Yours in the struggle for honest, ethical, profitable gaming.

Richard

Flying Without Wings

Flying Without Wings

Monday, September 11th, 2017

Dear Mr Manyi

The brand new Kerry Packer / Lord Beaverbrook of South Africa - bravo! I feel empowered, inspired, energised, just reading about your coup. I hope that historians are taking note. What with ANN7 and The New Age already having carved out reputations as the fearless Batman and Robin of investigative journalism and news reporting, we anticipate the scaling of magnificent new media business heights.

 I am sure that you have already cracked the leaked E mails and state capture sagas. Can’t wait to catch your next newscast. I know that you are a man of bold vision and unafraid to speak your mind. Your unique idea of doing a sort of South African tower of Babel exercise with Cape Town’s ‘Coloured’ people proved that. Of course, I’m sure you meant the same for all the other under- and over- represented areas. Taken to its logical conclusion, we could perhaps have even moved some of our people into Lesotho and Liechtenstein. A sort of Lebensraum initiative that could have made you as famous and popular as that chap with the half-done moustache.

Add to your own sterling qualities, the great training and experience you must have had disseminating truth with the fearlessness and impartiality typical of a state information and communication person in South Africa, and we have the stuff of legend. I imagine that in future, busloads of tourists, cruising past your residence, will sing out the immortal phrase, ‘Show me the Manyi’

You have given the cause of empowerment in South Africa a tremendous shot in the butt. Do you think we might get in on the other businesses your associates might wish to shed in this sudden rush of public- spiritedness? Much as I like milk, I would avoid the dairy, as I read an accusation somewhere that Transnet was being milked instead of the dairy herd. The recruitment agency would be right up my alley. Having had extensive interviewing experience, I would have no trouble with any devious candidates for ministerial posts. You can be sure that, apart from proper reference checking and verification, candidates would undergo rigorous interviews. The use of the ‘angazi’ word would immediately disqualify any applicant as we already have too many angazi - proficient public servants.
For your assurance, an example of a typical scenario to test candidate’s intelligence and integrity would be:

A secret vote of no confidence in your leader is about to take place. Do you:

a. Call in sick
b Vote according to your conscience (if you have one)
c. Vote according to someone else’s conscience
d. Emigrate
E. All of the above
As you can see, this business would fit me like a beret on an EFF member of parliament. Please do set up a meeting at the Saxonworld watering hole. Ginger beers are on me.

The fact that you tapdanced into the media mogul role sans a faded ten rand note is most encouraging. I have long espoused this particular business empowerment model. Of course, I trust that you now possess the sort of share portfolio that befits a man in your position.

Incidentally, I was pleased to read that you had the staff laughing at your first meeting. Great to have a leader with a sense of humour. There was also a rumour that Hlaudi will be joining ANN7. Good news, as he will keep any footage of riotous behaviour off the news. I find the violence quite unsettling and would much rather relax with a Tarantino classic such as ‘Reservoir Dogs’ or one of the ‘Kill Bill’ movies.

Both you and Ms Myeni of SAA bring to mind one of my favourite tunes, Flying Without Wings.

Yours in the pursuit of wingless flight.

Richard

Laughter In The Dark

Laughter In The Dark

Sunday, September 17th, 2017

Dear Mr President

I cannot thank you enough for the sterling work that you have done in transforming our country. We were on the road to the same old boring routine of service delivery, redressing of historical wrongs, economic growth and all the other yawn - inducing stuff. Suddenly you sprang into the spotlight like Jim Carey in The Mask - on steroids. We may not be the most efficient or effective country but, boy, we have to be one of the most fascinating, and often funniest, countries in the world.

What a brilliant strategy to turn the state of the nation addresses into a spectacle for all South Africans to enjoy. Those of us who cannot catch Comedy Central and mixed martial arts shows on pay TV can now get the whole experience on parliamentary news. This may not be government by the people but in terms of entertainment value, it certainly is for the people. Mmusi called you a broken president presiding over a broken country (something to that effect). In his play, A Caucasian Chalk Circle, Bertolt Brecht has a roguish official ” who broke the law like bread to give it to the people”. Alas, I doubt that that was Mmusi’s meaning. Still, we have the laughs.

Your groundbreaking ‘Giggle Along With Government’ initiative has gone global. The Americans were not to be outdone and have elected some strong competition. Still, they cannot trump your dizzying comedy routine. Weekend ministers, revolving courtrooms and cabinets, memorable one - liners like ‘I know nothing, nothing, nothing..: The show goes on at a frenetic pace. Even our neighbour. Princess Grace was moved to improvise a piece, widely seen on cable news. I wish that you would repeat the schtick with the numbers. Hilarious punchline: ‘Listen carefully now…’ The fire pool gag was almost as good. You joked that the DA in the Western Cape is probably kept in power by witches and ghosts. Some uptight voters were (like the queen) not amused but then again, those DA voters do sometimes lack in the humour department. To those who were indignant about your laughter in the house, you once responded: ‘How can I stop my laugh?’ The short answer is: by not laughing. We do know what you mean, though. Our junk status, questionable deals, corruption and capture allegations etc are all the stuff of thigh- slapping, belly - hugging hilarity. I have often woken up in mid- guffaw.

Brecht would occasionally interrupt the action (with a narration, for example) to remind his audience that they were watching a play, not real life. We are often jarringly reminded that this is real life, not a play.

In a Solomon - like custody judgement, in Brecht’s play, a child is given to the faithful peasant girl who cared for her when her aristocratic mother deserted her, then tried to claim her back. 

Love to see you work something like that into your next schtick.

Yours in the quest for homegrown humour.

Richard

Coming Up Trumps

Coming Up Trumps

January 11th, 2020 

Dear Mr Trump

So glad and relieved that you did not push us over the brink. Although my debt problems would have been solved, I had rather hoped to achieve a few things before joining the great employment queue in the sky.

Sir, there is one thing that troubles me (actually two; of the second, more later in this friendly letter). Years ago, you said, during a leadership telecast, that one should pursue anyone who has wronged one until satisfaction has been gained - words to that effect. Great leadership advice, sir. Do you still cling to that profound philosophy? If so, there is no point in wishing you a prosperous 2020, as we may not be there to its end.

More troubling sir, is the awkward situation I find myself in. I have written some things about you, all in good, innocent fun. The sort of good humoured joshing between mates. Recent events have had me anxiously scanning the sunny Gauteng skies for hostile drones. On occasion, I have had to dive into a clump of bushes (these grow in profusion in my neighbourhood, what with the municipality being preoccupied with important budget speech celebrations etc.). While quite possibly good physical exercise, this has had a debilitating effect on my neck muscles and nervous system. In addition, I have had to endure stares and head-shaking from complete strangers, who fail to appreciate my perfectly natural responses to life - threatening situations.

Sir, may I propose a similar cessation of hostilities to the one currently in place with those chaps to the east. I am even willing, at great personal sacrifice, to travel over to sign a peace accord (if you can see your way clear to a little financial support for accommodation, travel and some discretionary funds - of course, if you have a spare room in the White House….).

I look forward to hearing from you by more conventional methods than a missive from the skies.

Yours in the crucial quest for world peace.

Richard

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Our Thing

Our Thing

Wednesday, January 15th, 2020

Dear Stellenbosch Mafia

You have been much in the news lately. A ‘novel’ (in the elegant phrasing of Mr Zuma) has even been written about you. I read some snippets and will complete my research once I have acquired a copy that one of the bookshops might leave carelessly lying around. I certainly like the idea of having Our Thing right here in South Africa. Onse Ding has a more solid, sonorous ring than Cosa Nostra.

I am keenly interested in membership of the club.
I understand that you kicked off as a kind of early model of the modern BBBEE initiative. Accepting my application would bring you into the new decade. You could gain invaluable mileage from being the first elite club in South Africa to welcome on board an ordinary Joe, with no financial prospects - a group also much discriminated against and historically disadvantaged. I am willing to be an ambassador for the organization. I am not without experience, as I once carried out some assignments for a similarly named organization in Europe. I have no issues with swearing blood oaths or whatever rituals may be necessary.

My Afrikaans is tolerable and I am currently brushing up by engaging patrons of Brian’s Bar, in Germiston, in stimulating exchanges on global finance, among others. Having read the poetry of Adam Small and S V Petersen, I have some insight into the culture.

Sirs, the old order changeth, yielding to the new. I offer my services as a catalyst. One story has it that at least one of you already has a close relationship with at least one prominent member of a progressive party. I am at pains not to let slip any clues to the identity of those scarlet - clad crusaders for justice and equity. My membership would beautifully round off your initiatives in diversity and inclusiveness.

I do understand that you are not that kind of mafia. Nevertheless, should you need the exercise of unusual talents, I am at your disposal. I also do that. Disposal.

I shall miss the scenic Germiston environs. The winelands might offer some small compensations.
Please do forward me the relevant application forms.

Yours in the struggle to preserve tradition while striding boldly forth to the future.

Richard

Invictus Too

Invictus Too

Wednesday, September 20th, 2017

Dear Alistair

I was most distressed to see video footage of people burning Springbok jerseys. I could not help but think what a nice price they would have fetched at the Germiston traffic lights. Economists do the Big Mac comparison.I find the Streetwise Two equivalent calculation quite useful.It was indeed troubling to see the equivalent of so many of those colourful boxes go up in flames.

Enough of economics. We face a time of trial as has not been seen since the great rinderpest plague. Dark forces in dark rugby kit threaten the very fabric of our rainbow - hued existence. I foresee an increase in Spur spats, parliamentary punch ups and more, should we not stem the black tide I am surprised that flags are not flying at half mast. Could this be the swart gevaar warned of in times past?.

As an anthem - humming patriot and staunch Springbok supporter since democracy first lighted on our shores like the Starship Enterprise landing on some dark, forbidding, alien planet, I offer a solution. Who can pass a ball with a flick of the wrist defter than that of the fleetest French flyhalf? None other than our own Msholozi. Asked about diplomatic immunity for the cable - wielding lady, he flicked that one on with: ‘I am not a lawyer.’ Alistair, you must get him on the coaching staff without delay. He has waltzed out of more tight scrums and loose mauls unscathed, than all our front- rankers combined. Another fleet of foot, nimble member of your coaching staff has to be Des van Rooyen. He slipped into and out of the finance portfolio faster than we can blink, completing the job of a finance minister in one weekend. These men have invaluable experience to offer.

I suggest that Gwede be roped in to handle pre - match press conferences. That should thoroughly confuse the opposition. At team talks, his reassuring growl will give our men heart, without the necessity of anything intelligible actually being said.
We also need a counter to the intimidating haka. What better than a stirring Zulu dance to a rousing chorus of ‘Umshini Wami’.

There. Alistair, I am sure that you can already see light at the end of the player’s tunnel.

Yours in defence and attack.

Richard