I actually hate writing about the ANC Youth League and its merry men (and some women) of morons. Even thinking about the ANCYL leaves me slightly nauseous. As a journalist, every week I make an internal pact with myself to steer clear, as far as possible, of having to cover anything to do with the ANCYL or to even mention that name that shan't be uttered (Julius Malema). Like Harry Potter's Valdemort, who's name also can never be uttered (but always is in the movies) Malema consistently crops up in the media. h
This leads many to believe we, as journos, are Malema-obsessed. Usually when Youth League events are covered in the media, you'll find it's a slow news day or week. But, sadly, we have to, from to time , indulge this grouping of grown up kindergartners, by giving them coverage. However, I could resist writing about the League and more specifically Floyd Shivambu, that ever-articulate spin sangoma of the league, this time round. I'm sorry, but I have a good reason.
I listened with a mix of shock and delight at a soundbyte of Shivambu telling a Media 24 journalist to f-off. The byte was recorded and is, as I type, being broadcast across the airwaves. At first, I exploded into peels of laughter at an irate Shivambu repeatedly telling the reporter to f-off. Jacques Dommisse somehow managed to keep his cool and strung Shivambu on for a few more seconds, before another salvo of curses flew out of his mouth. In the medium of radio, even a few seconds of a soundbyte is all you need to hit a story home effectively. I hope Dommisse himself was laughing hysterically as he was being told off by this self-styled spokesperson. Shivambu can rarely be taken seriously. I've heard him mangle up the ANCYL's dimwitted policies and viewpoints on numerous occasions. Even when he pretends to know what he's talking about, I can't help but smile. It's also not the first time he's sworn at a journalist. In fact, it seems to be ANCYL policy these days to curse the imperialist, colonialist, capitalist media of South Africa. When his short fuse burns up and his temper gallops away, my smiles turn to open guffaws, followed by air-punches. It means we, as the media fraternity, have won, in a sense. By getting Shivambu to show his true colours, it gives us ammunition to demonstrate, intelligently, just how rogue the League has become under Malema and Jacob Zuma's watch. A Media Tribunal for us errant, naughty journalists? How about a tribunal for Shivambu?
Like a stand up comedian recently told an audience in Cape Town, 'I don't know why people, especially Whites, take Malema and ANCYL so seriously. They are a joke.' Bravo, well put. Perhaps Shivambu should consider expanding his limited talents to the arena of stand up comedy where he can tear into all and sundry, without even having to have a knack for doing comedy. He's a walking, breathing joke all by himself.
His shows would be pre-empted with disclaimers 'Nothing coming out of Floyd's mouth should be viewed in a serious context.' He could belch and bluster about nationalisation, how White people are devils and how his boss, Jules, cares about the poor by going on extravagant safari holidays and building mansions for himself. Instead of taking the bait, we could just sit back and giggle, knowing full well, Shivambu and Co. are doing a fine job by themselves of making a mockery of their organisation.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Playing the game of Communism
I'm not by any stretch of the imagination an expert on communism, Marxism, socialism or pretty much any -ism for that matter. Too many letters, too many concepts and, boy oh boy is 'Das Kapital' not just the furthest thing from an interesting read? Basically, it's just too much of too many things, coming too quickly amid an ever-changing political climate sweeping the globe.
It's too dense and anachronistic an ideology for the 21st Century to take seriously as it's written my Marx. The past millennium took communism too seriously, often with little choice in the matter, resulting in millions of people dying, entire economies crumbling and, more importantly, it gave rise to way too many dangerous personalities, many of them eventually turned out mad and deluded. The likes of Lenin, Castro and Pol Pot mangled the concept of communism into terrifying doctrines, punctuated by fear, megalomania, arrogance and megadeath. A select few of our own did emerge from the struggle as heroes cloaked in liberation struggle glory. But they soon realised, applying socialism in South Africa was never going to work as easily as they may have thought and hoped.
In 2011 communism and its cousin socialism are still very much alive. There's nothing wrong with this. Something is needed to try and counter the devastating impact capitalism can have. But politics and economic theories, like almost everything in life and the natural world, must constantly change and transmogrify. How else would they survive? But what happens when political parties and left-leaning governments (such as South Africa's) become, shall we say, frustrated with the slow pace at which socialism is being realised and is actually being left behind in this never-ending race of ideologies? The likes of so-called socialists/communists, like Julius Malema and (a deep, brave breath) Blade Nzimande (yup, the 'King of the Left') don't seem to understand the the idiom of practice what you preach. The little Commissar of the SACP relishes any chance to mangle 'The Communist Manifesto'. His speeches are almost always littered with Communism-isms. Terms like 'vanguard', 'class consciousness', 'class alienation', 'permanent revolution' do find their way, somehow, into his speeches, depending on the setting. yet this is the cabinet minister who thinks there's noticing wrong with being ushered around in a million rand Merc. It may be the only visible sign of hypocrisy in Nzimande's case, but it's one too many considering he's the guy leading the country's reds. Of course, his viewpoints on another crucial aspect of communism, nationalisation, strangely veers off into the distance. Comrade Julius is left to hammer this home. And boy is he making a noise. The problem is, Jules doesn't seem to have a cooking clue about nationalisation or real communism. His speeches, while firey, are very basic and dumbed-down, lacking in substance. That's probably because he himself hasn't bothered to to do his homework. yet he wants to toy with an entire country's economic health.
If him and Blade were true reds, they'd sell their mansions, their flashy vehicles, expensive watches and give up Johnny Walker Gold and their iPhones. All this money (they repeatedly insist they don't earn) should then technically be redistributed to the masses, as it clearly states in the 'The Communist Manifesto'. Socialism for dummies, indeed. They apply the theory as they want to.
The only class consciousness in Malema's mind is how conscious he was not to attend proper classes at school. A 'vanguard' to him may be interpreted as someone who guards vans. Nzimande, as erudite as he likes to present himself, also seems to selectively interpret the basic tenets of communism as he pleases. Redistribution of wealth to him and his fellow cadres at the top of the SACP food chain, means ensuring the money is channeled straight back to the tripartite alliance and no further. This is a middle-finger to the poor.
But there is no better example of the glaring ignorance of communism than a strike and a protest march in modern day South Africa. Every unionist with a microphone will gladly bellow out commie slogans.'Comrades, capitalism is evil. It must be killed' belched a pot-bellied NUMSA official at a recent demonstration in Cape Town. Yet that very same comrade was wearing expensive leather shoes, complete with designer jeans. Oh, and he was spotted making notes on an iPad. How very 'grassroots' of him?
Pretence is the backbone to all forms of politics. As are lying, greed and stupidity.
It's too dense and anachronistic an ideology for the 21st Century to take seriously as it's written my Marx. The past millennium took communism too seriously, often with little choice in the matter, resulting in millions of people dying, entire economies crumbling and, more importantly, it gave rise to way too many dangerous personalities, many of them eventually turned out mad and deluded. The likes of Lenin, Castro and Pol Pot mangled the concept of communism into terrifying doctrines, punctuated by fear, megalomania, arrogance and megadeath. A select few of our own did emerge from the struggle as heroes cloaked in liberation struggle glory. But they soon realised, applying socialism in South Africa was never going to work as easily as they may have thought and hoped.
In 2011 communism and its cousin socialism are still very much alive. There's nothing wrong with this. Something is needed to try and counter the devastating impact capitalism can have. But politics and economic theories, like almost everything in life and the natural world, must constantly change and transmogrify. How else would they survive? But what happens when political parties and left-leaning governments (such as South Africa's) become, shall we say, frustrated with the slow pace at which socialism is being realised and is actually being left behind in this never-ending race of ideologies? The likes of so-called socialists/communists, like Julius Malema and (a deep, brave breath) Blade Nzimande (yup, the 'King of the Left') don't seem to understand the the idiom of practice what you preach. The little Commissar of the SACP relishes any chance to mangle 'The Communist Manifesto'. His speeches are almost always littered with Communism-isms. Terms like 'vanguard', 'class consciousness', 'class alienation', 'permanent revolution' do find their way, somehow, into his speeches, depending on the setting. yet this is the cabinet minister who thinks there's noticing wrong with being ushered around in a million rand Merc. It may be the only visible sign of hypocrisy in Nzimande's case, but it's one too many considering he's the guy leading the country's reds. Of course, his viewpoints on another crucial aspect of communism, nationalisation, strangely veers off into the distance. Comrade Julius is left to hammer this home. And boy is he making a noise. The problem is, Jules doesn't seem to have a cooking clue about nationalisation or real communism. His speeches, while firey, are very basic and dumbed-down, lacking in substance. That's probably because he himself hasn't bothered to to do his homework. yet he wants to toy with an entire country's economic health.
If him and Blade were true reds, they'd sell their mansions, their flashy vehicles, expensive watches and give up Johnny Walker Gold and their iPhones. All this money (they repeatedly insist they don't earn) should then technically be redistributed to the masses, as it clearly states in the 'The Communist Manifesto'. Socialism for dummies, indeed. They apply the theory as they want to.
The only class consciousness in Malema's mind is how conscious he was not to attend proper classes at school. A 'vanguard' to him may be interpreted as someone who guards vans. Nzimande, as erudite as he likes to present himself, also seems to selectively interpret the basic tenets of communism as he pleases. Redistribution of wealth to him and his fellow cadres at the top of the SACP food chain, means ensuring the money is channeled straight back to the tripartite alliance and no further. This is a middle-finger to the poor.
But there is no better example of the glaring ignorance of communism than a strike and a protest march in modern day South Africa. Every unionist with a microphone will gladly bellow out commie slogans.'Comrades, capitalism is evil. It must be killed' belched a pot-bellied NUMSA official at a recent demonstration in Cape Town. Yet that very same comrade was wearing expensive leather shoes, complete with designer jeans. Oh, and he was spotted making notes on an iPad. How very 'grassroots' of him?
Pretence is the backbone to all forms of politics. As are lying, greed and stupidity.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Taking the wheel back
Yet again mini-bus taxi commuters have become victims. Those thugs who run the taxi industry have struck again. Like petulant toddlers, they were instructed to hold their breath, pout and throw tantrums. In the taxi world this means, completely disregarding the rights of others, behaving like criminals and holding the public to ransom, all because they feel they don't get their way. Boo hoo. Good luck in finding even an inkling of sympathy.This week another strike among taxi operators was held, this time in Soweto.
It only takes a handful of drivers to down their keys and cause enough chaos to ruin anyone's day. And it's not just taxi commuters who are affected. It's a domino effect of note. With taxis off the roads (as idyllic as it sounds, it's actually not) more pressure is put on buses and trains. people are forced to use private vehicles. Already congested highways become impossible to navigate. Nerves are frayed, frustrations reach fever pitch. Soon the grey hairs start sprouting, that unsightly vein in your neck pulses like a male porn stars member and often road rage is the only way to vent. Hooters become weapons and our language descends into the doldrums of cursing. I think I can safely say the majority of us dislike taxi drivers (forgive the euphemism, hate is acceptable in certain contexts). But why should we allow ourselves to be even further victimised by this ramshackle, recalcitrant, backward industry? I'm not alone in using this description. deputy-Transport minister, Jeremy Cronin, often criticises taxi bosses using similar language.
Here's an idea. What would happen if tomorrow all commuters, regardless of race, culture and economic standing, just boycotted the use of mini-bus taxis? Those of us(un)lucky enough to have our transport to embark on solidarity industrial action. It's a long shot, I know, but what if we all just summoned up the guts to do it? We'd bring this mafia-like industry to it's knees. It's actually easy when money is involved. We'd deprive them of money which only serves to beef up the bosses bank accounts. The drivers get very little and are themselves victims of their employers. I've yet to meet a happy-go-lucky taxi driver. There's a reason they drive and behave the way they do. Yes, half of them don't have drivers licences and their vehicles are nothing short of death traps. But they are victims of their bosses arrogance and greed.
So, why can't taxi commuters make their own stand? Why can't other road-users send out a clear message, not just in limp-wristed, yet strongly-worded statements, but through trenchant action? Instead of being the one's who queue for hours, shove and force their ways onto bulging buses and trains during taxi strikes, why don't they just take a stand and for one or two days completely sideline taxis? As with the converse of such situations, where taxi drivers feel misguidedlyemboldened by behaving like animals, we may just be able to take some power back and hit them them back. It's simple economics. With no money coming in, they'd have to resort to their own contingency plans, much like government and municipalities who are lefts scrambling in dealing with crippling strikes. My guess is, they have no plan and owuld have little choice but to at least partly abandon their rogue attitude and actually employ some common sense. Maybe the bosses will be force out of their dungeons to face the reality of what of normal road-users and their drivers go through daily.
It only takes a handful of drivers to down their keys and cause enough chaos to ruin anyone's day. And it's not just taxi commuters who are affected. It's a domino effect of note. With taxis off the roads (as idyllic as it sounds, it's actually not) more pressure is put on buses and trains. people are forced to use private vehicles. Already congested highways become impossible to navigate. Nerves are frayed, frustrations reach fever pitch. Soon the grey hairs start sprouting, that unsightly vein in your neck pulses like a male porn stars member and often road rage is the only way to vent. Hooters become weapons and our language descends into the doldrums of cursing. I think I can safely say the majority of us dislike taxi drivers (forgive the euphemism, hate is acceptable in certain contexts). But why should we allow ourselves to be even further victimised by this ramshackle, recalcitrant, backward industry? I'm not alone in using this description. deputy-Transport minister, Jeremy Cronin, often criticises taxi bosses using similar language.
Here's an idea. What would happen if tomorrow all commuters, regardless of race, culture and economic standing, just boycotted the use of mini-bus taxis? Those of us(un)lucky enough to have our transport to embark on solidarity industrial action. It's a long shot, I know, but what if we all just summoned up the guts to do it? We'd bring this mafia-like industry to it's knees. It's actually easy when money is involved. We'd deprive them of money which only serves to beef up the bosses bank accounts. The drivers get very little and are themselves victims of their employers. I've yet to meet a happy-go-lucky taxi driver. There's a reason they drive and behave the way they do. Yes, half of them don't have drivers licences and their vehicles are nothing short of death traps. But they are victims of their bosses arrogance and greed.
So, why can't taxi commuters make their own stand? Why can't other road-users send out a clear message, not just in limp-wristed, yet strongly-worded statements, but through trenchant action? Instead of being the one's who queue for hours, shove and force their ways onto bulging buses and trains during taxi strikes, why don't they just take a stand and for one or two days completely sideline taxis? As with the converse of such situations, where taxi drivers feel misguidedlyemboldened by behaving like animals, we may just be able to take some power back and hit them them back. It's simple economics. With no money coming in, they'd have to resort to their own contingency plans, much like government and municipalities who are lefts scrambling in dealing with crippling strikes. My guess is, they have no plan and owuld have little choice but to at least partly abandon their rogue attitude and actually employ some common sense. Maybe the bosses will be force out of their dungeons to face the reality of what of normal road-users and their drivers go through daily.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Snacks-Apartheid
We are often reminded of how important Parliament is in our democracy. I've personally heard it described by some MPs as a 'hallowed house', even a church of sorts (thanks to the ACDP). But it seems Parliament's food is as holy as any bill, debate or committee meeting which makes its way through the National Assembly. ANC MP, Cecil Burgess's recent admonishment of non-parliamentarians who dared to tuck into snacks laid out at at a portfolio committee meeting serves to further reinforce the reputation of MPs as loafers and spongers. For 10 minutes he lectured us plebs, with perennially bored fellow-MPs in attendance, on how the food is actually meant for them. In an arrogant drawl he explained how the committee's budget is limited and so spending on snacks is tight. He concluded, however, that once MPs are done scoffing up soggy sandwiches and rock hard muffins, us nobodies are more than welcome to have the leftovers. Mmmm, tasty leftovers all for us?! Oh, Cecil, your heart beats custard. Amid stifled grumbles from fellow-plebs, I noted what seemed to be embarrassed looks on some of Burgess's colleagues faces (at least I hope they were embarrassed). Could it be they were in silent agreement with me that Burgess had maybe gone too far on a seemingly mundane matter? Burgess is known to be a strong character. Opposition parties call him arrogant. I respect his intellect and political deftness. But since him unofficially passing the new Parliamentary Food Act, I'm inclined to relegate him to that growing hall of shame for government bigwigs who think their excrement smells like roses.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't we, as taxpayers, technically paying for their snacks? Is that not our money they are shovelling into their ever-burgeoning stomachs? Mr. Burgess, surely you can do with one or two less sandwiches and scones? Where's the love? We pay your salary, yet you can't share some food with us. Not very Ubuntu of you.
The National Assembly has no gym, as far as I know, and despite Health minister, Aaron Motsoaledi's repeated calls for his fellow cabinet members and government officials to lead by example in living health lives, the boeps on the majority of parliamentarians are showing little sign of retreating. Nor do their salaries, may I add. So, maybe we could do them a favour by helping eat their oh-so-sacred snacks. It's snack-Apartheidf, I tell you!
If ordinary people aren't allowed to have even a stale croissant in Parliament, will we soon be barred for using the toilets there or even having a drink of water? Thanks to Burgess, the much touted phrase 'The Peoples Parliament' is an oxymoron. According to him and his ridiculous policy on snacks it's 'Only Certain People's Parliament'. Had he asked us nicely not to eat the snacks, refraining from the use of condescension, I may find it in my heart not to call him arrogant and petty. But knowing the chronic sense of entitlement many members of parliament adopt, I'll stand by my initial believe that they are truly the embodiment of government fat cats.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't we, as taxpayers, technically paying for their snacks? Is that not our money they are shovelling into their ever-burgeoning stomachs? Mr. Burgess, surely you can do with one or two less sandwiches and scones? Where's the love? We pay your salary, yet you can't share some food with us. Not very Ubuntu of you.
The National Assembly has no gym, as far as I know, and despite Health minister, Aaron Motsoaledi's repeated calls for his fellow cabinet members and government officials to lead by example in living health lives, the boeps on the majority of parliamentarians are showing little sign of retreating. Nor do their salaries, may I add. So, maybe we could do them a favour by helping eat their oh-so-sacred snacks. It's snack-Apartheidf, I tell you!
If ordinary people aren't allowed to have even a stale croissant in Parliament, will we soon be barred for using the toilets there or even having a drink of water? Thanks to Burgess, the much touted phrase 'The Peoples Parliament' is an oxymoron. According to him and his ridiculous policy on snacks it's 'Only Certain People's Parliament'. Had he asked us nicely not to eat the snacks, refraining from the use of condescension, I may find it in my heart not to call him arrogant and petty. But knowing the chronic sense of entitlement many members of parliament adopt, I'll stand by my initial believe that they are truly the embodiment of government fat cats.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A Prayer for Elections
Praying for peaceful elections is much like waging war to secure peace (see Iraq, Afghanistan). By their very nature elections are like min-wars. Vitriol, propaganda and insults (see Helen Zille dancing) are launched like missiles between warring political groupings. You may even find some leaders resorting to war dances (see helen Zille). In some cases, party members and supporters,their fair weather foot soldiers, take the whole idea of contesting elections to a dangerously literal level. Hit lists start emerging, competing councillors get into punch ups, ugly verbal exchanges take over at debates and intimidation become the order of the day. Cease fires are called, but hardly ever take hold. There are battle plans (see election manifestos) which give blue prints on strategies, yet are rarely based in reality. Pretty soon, the real purpose of elections are sullied and forgotten. Compare this to a real war scenario, the similarities are very evident, be it on a much smaller scale. Human rights are trampled on, election regulations and laws are shoved to one side and even the odd dead body crops up (see Andries Tatane, himself an indirect victim of political incompetence and the resulting anger thereof). There are always casualties of some kind and they are usually the voters.So, when religious leaders congregate to pray for peaceful elections, I laugh out aloud. They are usually joined by politicians (many of whom believe their parties will rule until that ever-elusive Jesus returns). They'll hold hands, close their eyes and be struck by piety. But when the reverend or Imam isn't looking, they're at each others throats. Many of these are the very same people who are quick to find faith over elections time, as they desperately employ every electioneering tactic they know to drum up support. There are parties who base their politics almost solely on religion(see the the likes of the Christian Democratic Party). While this may seem genuine and almost honourable, we all know how dangerous it can be if fundamentalism creeps into the political arena (see Iran, Afghanistan under the Taliban). So, by all means pray for peaceful elections, we need anything and everything to keep politicians in line. However, don't for a second believe sound religious principles can stand up to political opportunism and greed amid elections.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Happy Whatever Day!
Who is really free these days? Wasn't it some French philosopher who drone on about us being free, yet in chains everywhere? While my Std. 7 history escapes me, my common sense is very much still intact. And it tells me public holidays are as pointless as royal weddings are. Sure, we get to lie in a bit, an expected unexpected mini-holiday of sorts, which breaks the grinding monotony of work. So, why then am I writing this column from my desk at work on Freedom Day! Where did I buy my cappuccino this morning and who will fill my fuel tank later when I eventually leave work - Us schmucks to whom a public holiday is very much a dream. I'm generally not bitter about having to work on public holidays. I like my routine and having these pesky days off in the middle of a working week are as inconvenient as having to wake up 6am to go to work on a public holiday. Hang on, I've gone cross-eyed!
If it's freedom you crave or human rights you need, never fear, South Africa's calendar never strays too far away from an issue or historical event to celebrate. Of course, we don't necessarily celebrate Youth Day. June 16th 1976 is a day which remains rightly hallowed in our history books due to it's violent origins. So, we commemorate the day... in theory. The ANC Youth League has been known to throw some cracking parties on Youth Day, complete with really sombre gestures like musical entertainment, dancing and free food parcels. No one knows the history of this country better than kindergartners.
While we mark significant events in our country's history with public holidays (an excuse to stick it to the boss and the economy) I propose we introduce even more! How about Dubula Ibunu Day (or even week). Here's how the first rally will play out. Julius Malema will be escorted into FNB Stadium in a cavalcade of SUVs. His 18 para-military bodyguards, equipped with rocket launchers and Ray Bans with beat a path for him to his throne. Of course a rally just wouldn't be a rally if Jules didn't bluster forth an attack on imperialism, White people, capitalism, 2-ply toilet paper and the state of the Gulf of Mexico. This would be followed by his latest rendition of the 'Shoot the Boer' song 'Loot the poor. Hey, it rhymes! Another poignant moment in the country's history could be declared a public loaf day - Polokwane Day. We'll lie in our beds and reminisce about how uncomfortable old T-Boz looked as he awkwardly embraced his arch rival comrade, Jacob Zuma on stage after it his demise was officially announced in 2007 to a hostile and welcoming crowd of ANC delegates. We also like to focus on our national past times. There's an unofficial 'holiday' called Braai Day, which falls on Heritage Day.
Government would do well to introduce Corruption Day. An entire 24-hours can be devoted to looting and pillaging. Now, I'm not talking about our other national hobby, armed robbery. On Corruption Day, we plot and conspire against each other to steal surreptitiously and to stab each other in the back. I'm talking about the wholesale signing of dodgy tenders, re-routing social welfare funds to be deposited into your personal bank account (you of course don't even qualify for a grant).
If it's freedom you crave or human rights you need, never fear, South Africa's calendar never strays too far away from an issue or historical event to celebrate. Of course, we don't necessarily celebrate Youth Day. June 16th 1976 is a day which remains rightly hallowed in our history books due to it's violent origins. So, we commemorate the day... in theory. The ANC Youth League has been known to throw some cracking parties on Youth Day, complete with really sombre gestures like musical entertainment, dancing and free food parcels. No one knows the history of this country better than kindergartners.
While we mark significant events in our country's history with public holidays (an excuse to stick it to the boss and the economy) I propose we introduce even more! How about Dubula Ibunu Day (or even week). Here's how the first rally will play out. Julius Malema will be escorted into FNB Stadium in a cavalcade of SUVs. His 18 para-military bodyguards, equipped with rocket launchers and Ray Bans with beat a path for him to his throne. Of course a rally just wouldn't be a rally if Jules didn't bluster forth an attack on imperialism, White people, capitalism, 2-ply toilet paper and the state of the Gulf of Mexico. This would be followed by his latest rendition of the 'Shoot the Boer' song 'Loot the poor. Hey, it rhymes! Another poignant moment in the country's history could be declared a public loaf day - Polokwane Day. We'll lie in our beds and reminisce about how uncomfortable old T-Boz looked as he awkwardly embraced his arch rival comrade, Jacob Zuma on stage after it his demise was officially announced in 2007 to a hostile and welcoming crowd of ANC delegates. We also like to focus on our national past times. There's an unofficial 'holiday' called Braai Day, which falls on Heritage Day.
Government would do well to introduce Corruption Day. An entire 24-hours can be devoted to looting and pillaging. Now, I'm not talking about our other national hobby, armed robbery. On Corruption Day, we plot and conspire against each other to steal surreptitiously and to stab each other in the back. I'm talking about the wholesale signing of dodgy tenders, re-routing social welfare funds to be deposited into your personal bank account (you of course don't even qualify for a grant).
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Cape for free... I mean, free the Cape!
Election manifestos are pretty much wish lists. Some political parties thumb suck theirs, dressing them up with what they regard as promises, liberally wrapped in fancy words, like eradicate and moratorium. Parties who've done this whole election thing before will have saved their manifestos on flash drives, so expect rushed cut and paste jobs this year, where language is only slightly tweaked and political objectives are made to sound even more orotund, abstruse and, let's never forget, unobtainable. Poetic licence is tested when political jargon is mashed and mangled with theatrics. How many times have we heard 'Pushing back the frontiers of poverty' at rallies.
Of course elections have nothing to do with morals and ethics, otherwise Truman Prince would've been laid to rest in the cemetery of politics and Julius Malema would've had his jaw wired shut. Nope, it's all about lofty ideals and laughable promises. Honesty has never lived in the same neighbourhood as politics so that's never an issue. We're expected to join politicians and take leave of our senses and intelligence over this period.
But you got to love it when a party flagrantly abandons reality. I'm not even talking about the DA's persistent dreams of seeing Helen Zille delivering a State of the Nation (instead of Province) address. I'm talking about stripped down to the bone madness.
It's treacherous driving in Cape Town at the best of times. But try maintain your composure behind the wheel if you happen to come across one of the Cape Party's election posters. I still erupt into laughter each time I read them. 'Declare the Cape independent' scream their posters to unsuspecting motorists. Here's a political grouping (read: 2 guys and a fax machine) which has almost solely based it's entire existence on one ideal (and for the sake of my credibility I daren't call it anything else but that)on one bold, if not misguided manifesto point. Firstly, let me salute this party for being, well, for want of a better word, brave. I know parties are known to embellish and dress the truth up. But the Cape Party hasn't only abandoned is credibility, it's lost touch with reality.
Okay, so it's not exactly the strongest of issues to base a manifesto on. Neither is poverty eradication. At least the party's being honest, albeit amid peels of raucous laughter and derision at those nauseating televised roundtable debates. I've witnessed this with my own eyes. At one such debate the Party's, Jack Miller, courageously stated, without a hint of sarcasm, the time for the Cape to secede from the rest of the country is now. That's was in 2009. Now, I know it feels sometimes as if Cape Town is another planet compared to it's slick, arrogant, obnoxious distant neighbour, Johannesburg, but it's still very much part of the rest of the country, despite Zille's best efforts.
It seems the Cape Party hasn't even tried to reword it's manifesto for the 2011 local government polls. What's to reword, it's one sentence, really. Maybe 'declare' could've been substituted with 'demand' (the ANC has many a time demanded an end to corruption, as if that makes sense). There a bunch of synonyms for 'independent'. Maybe their party election budget didn't extend to a thesaurus.
The banner greeting you as you enter the party's web site says 'Free the Cape'. Even more bombastic. I love it! Maybe they are not so far from the paradox of politics as I thought. Perhaps they've hit the nail on the head. Politics is all about distant ideals and a detachment from reality. Spend just a day in Parliament, that greenhouse of lies and absurdity. It may be that the Cape Party is simply doing what most parties are thinking - being outrageously and ultimately hopelessly misguided.
Of course elections have nothing to do with morals and ethics, otherwise Truman Prince would've been laid to rest in the cemetery of politics and Julius Malema would've had his jaw wired shut. Nope, it's all about lofty ideals and laughable promises. Honesty has never lived in the same neighbourhood as politics so that's never an issue. We're expected to join politicians and take leave of our senses and intelligence over this period.
But you got to love it when a party flagrantly abandons reality. I'm not even talking about the DA's persistent dreams of seeing Helen Zille delivering a State of the Nation (instead of Province) address. I'm talking about stripped down to the bone madness.
It's treacherous driving in Cape Town at the best of times. But try maintain your composure behind the wheel if you happen to come across one of the Cape Party's election posters. I still erupt into laughter each time I read them. 'Declare the Cape independent' scream their posters to unsuspecting motorists. Here's a political grouping (read: 2 guys and a fax machine) which has almost solely based it's entire existence on one ideal (and for the sake of my credibility I daren't call it anything else but that)on one bold, if not misguided manifesto point. Firstly, let me salute this party for being, well, for want of a better word, brave. I know parties are known to embellish and dress the truth up. But the Cape Party hasn't only abandoned is credibility, it's lost touch with reality.
Okay, so it's not exactly the strongest of issues to base a manifesto on. Neither is poverty eradication. At least the party's being honest, albeit amid peels of raucous laughter and derision at those nauseating televised roundtable debates. I've witnessed this with my own eyes. At one such debate the Party's, Jack Miller, courageously stated, without a hint of sarcasm, the time for the Cape to secede from the rest of the country is now. That's was in 2009. Now, I know it feels sometimes as if Cape Town is another planet compared to it's slick, arrogant, obnoxious distant neighbour, Johannesburg, but it's still very much part of the rest of the country, despite Zille's best efforts.
It seems the Cape Party hasn't even tried to reword it's manifesto for the 2011 local government polls. What's to reword, it's one sentence, really. Maybe 'declare' could've been substituted with 'demand' (the ANC has many a time demanded an end to corruption, as if that makes sense). There a bunch of synonyms for 'independent'. Maybe their party election budget didn't extend to a thesaurus.
The banner greeting you as you enter the party's web site says 'Free the Cape'. Even more bombastic. I love it! Maybe they are not so far from the paradox of politics as I thought. Perhaps they've hit the nail on the head. Politics is all about distant ideals and a detachment from reality. Spend just a day in Parliament, that greenhouse of lies and absurdity. It may be that the Cape Party is simply doing what most parties are thinking - being outrageously and ultimately hopelessly misguided.
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