Here in the Independent (almost, but not quite) Homeland Of Zillestan we love our weather. In fact, we are obessessed with it. We analyse it from couches, exmaninign every nuance of forecasts on the Weather Channel. But Capetonian's only want to know one thing: How strong will the wind be the next day? Note, I posed this question with the assumption the wind will by default be strong or any derirvative of this. You only get two types of wind down south -wannabe-almost-but not quite-yet-still leaves-you-unbalanced strong and beatdown-brutal-don't stop until you cry strong. Bugger the news at 7, fast forward to 7:25 when the weather people, complete with carefully constructed hair, jarring American accents and shady smiles, take control. They euphemise 36 degrees in Spingbok For 5 minutes we citizens of this bold new state are their slaves, entranced by their hand movements which sweep over the country. The rest of the nation is not important to us Zille-ites at all. We only care if the sun will rise on the empire again the next day. Much like yanks many Capetonians couldn't tell you where Boshoff or Los Angeles is.
Entire weeks can be spoiled by this meterological phnomoment of satanic proportions. The Cape Doctor they call it. The only medcial practitioner I can liken the effects of ths devli wind to is Josef Mengele. Evil, cruel and gusty.

Goddamned wind! 400kms winds are the only downside of living in the capital of Zillestan, cape Town. Our obsession with the climate does partly stem from Al Gore's brilliant job of scaring the crap out of us. Climate change se moer. We have hurricanes of winds this side of the nation. winds a powerful as parliament (where intellignce goes to die and power thrives amid madness, corruption and greed). I cry a bit every time I emerge form the outdoors on a windy day in Slaapstad. I feel violated and need to be hugged. No problem there. Everyone loves to hug in this place. ray Bans, cut off jeans, styled hair and a good does of doos-ness accompanies this need to hug and be simunye with all in this gran city of wind, excess and pinkness. The Pink cash helps fuel Zillestand, don't you know? They offer incentives for gay people to settle this side. eever since Politiburo of Zumaville subconsiously started plotting the "Pink Solution" homosexuals have been seeking refuge under the mountain. And boy are we glad they chose Zillestan. Greenpoint has never been the same.

On the 4 days a year cape twon is being sodmised by the wind, we flock to the many beaches of this great capital of ours. We rush int he direction of sea salt on Vespas, in 4 x4s, Mini Coopers and skateboards hey clog up the already impossibly narrow roads tyo Clifton, Camps Bay, Llandudno, and so on. Buses of the less fortnate converge on Mnwabisi beach. This remnant of Apartheid beach segregation sees enough actiojn in a december weekend than a Seapoin brothel. Sharks, drownings, swimming in underpants, poo pullution, and dangerious deragned seagulls make it tough going for poor beachgoers. But at least the water isn't -22 degrees. Can a beach be a proper beach if you can't swim? capetonians don't care. It's really all about showing off abs and boobs. Who cares about the sea?

In Zillestan we speak differently. Not beign a lingust I can't adequately explaim in words how a capetonian accent sounds. I'll try though. Round your vowels and make generous use of words like Wow, serious and bru. Gestilculating helps as well. It's more about what capetonians choose to speak about. fashions, gym, how much money they don't have or do have. Down the drag on the N2 the sun is as bright, the wind as powerful, but the money, very rare.

Licence to make me Ill

Many of you will have probably been harassed by the SABC over the past few weeks. It's time to pay our TV licences. Our troubled Public Broadcaster is never shy to come asking for more cash Yet the quality of public TV these days, complete with mind numbing news, bottom-of-the-barrel variety shows, ancient series and movies so bad they were more than likely donated to the SABC out of sympathy. So with a hypothetical virtual swagger and beaming arrogance via threatening smses, e-mail spam and brainless advertising campaigns redolent of Gestapo PR ploys ('You have nussing to vorry about. Ve are only vatching you') the broadcaster has come to collect 'what is rightfully ours' they argue. They'll do almost anything to force you to pay that R250. I've already been threatened with credit blacklisting. Through clenched teeth I paid over what is rightfully mine and carried on channelling hopping through DSTV. I'm very lucky to have that option of avoiding SABC programing. But many people out there have no choice.
We're led to believe our adherence to the law of the Corporation is closely policed with surreptitious vans, tinted windows, fitted with aerials, TV dishes and flickering lights lurk our streets, desperate to bust one of us... watching TV without a licence! Alarms will howl in the streets. We will be rounded up, curfews will be imposed and we'll be made to march in lines towards camps, where the latest CEO will set the thought police on our brains. Torture could follow. But there's no need for that. It's already torturous watching SABC TV. Sounds really weird when you say it. You need a licence to enjoy the stagnant pedestrianism and sub-standard television foisetd on us. They should be paying us to watch the drivel we see on telly. Anyway. So, the 800th text has bleeped to life on your mobile. You've had to open a whole new folder on your desktop to store the foreboding e-mails ('You will be blacklisted and then no one will like you you, and you'll died alone, with only the company of Rian Cruywagen' these mails should read).The SABC is calling on us to do the right thing. Pay up your R250. Is it really the right thing to do? Yes, maybe to pay for the right to our money being used properly: to inform in the absence of enforced bias; to entertain with good quality movies; to educate with the wealth of resources available to it, which it seems is the only thing the the SABC is managing to do, in all fairness. That's all the average viewer really wants - just a bit of quality in the programming and an end to ongoing drama at the corporation so that our money is not squandered yet againI doubt it's the right thing for Solly Mokoetle to have just been allowed to scurry off in the wake of the gravy train into the horizon of the fat, all because of a sweaty golden (more like bloody) handshake aimed at palming him off. Our Public Broadcaster has dished out, seemingly with little question as to it's real agenda, more than R17 million rand in settling the messy affairs of two Group CEOs in less than 3-years. Apart from burning taxpayers money, the SABC must generate a helluva cell phone bill haranguing us for our R250 each to keep the SABC afloat. That's a lot of R250s which will be deposited into the company's dirty bank account. I bet anybody R250, this time next year, our TV licence moola will be in its moer, stuffed into a cushy off shore account by yet another useless CEO. If I'm wrong, I give the 'TV Licence Enforcement Squad' permission to come and confiscate my television.