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OK, so some dopey Rasta dude screwed up the South African national anthem on international TV. Big oops. But while the choice of singer was unfortunate and careless, it hardly qualifies as a catastrophe. After all, we’ve got plenty of real problems to worry about. Nevertheless, everybody is up in arms, officials are scrambling to cover their asses and ‘Anthemgate’ has already been given the standard suffix for a scandal.
Now, I’m not saying that fumbling the anthem in a global forum isn’t a serious breach of national etiquette. I also agree that it is slightly embarrassing to the country and downright offensive to many self-respecting South Africans. However, let’s get a bit of perspective here…
This it’s not the first time an unqualified singer has been tasked with singing an anthem. In America, the revered ‘Star Spangled Banner’ has been mutilated on a number of occasions. In the late 1960s, Jose Feliciano and Jimi Hendrix both caused an uproar by reinterpreting the anthem (as blues and rock respectively). The loungy crooner Robert Goulet also bombed when he erroneously sang ‘oh say can you see by the dawn’s early night’ . And in 1990, the comedian Roseanne Barr earned the nation’s enduring enmity by screeching the anthem, then topped the performance by grabbing her crotch and spitting on the ground.
Naturally, each of these ‘star mangled banners’ was controversial and in Roseanne’s case, actually damaged her career. Once again, this reaction is understandable, especially in the USA where symbols of national identity are pathologically sacrosanct. So, by messing up the anthem on TV, Roseanne may as well have taken a dump on a slice of apple pie and wiped her bum with the American flag.
But, for once, South Africans have outdone the Americans in terms of righteous indignation. Everyone is furious, and that might not be a bad thing. Surely, the negative reactions to the regrettable incident in France shows that we care about national symbols and are thus developing a sense of pride in our country and ourselves?
Well, no. Not really. Instead on focussing on the merits of the singer himself, Anthemgate has blown up into an all too familiar debate about race and politics. Reading the comments posted by readers on various websites has shown that many South Africans have seized on Dumisani’s inadequate vocals as further proof that the country is going down the toilet. Others say that it’s a case of Affirmative Action run amok since Johnny Clegg would have done a much better job (and he’s big in France). Then there are the chorus of people who blame everything on Zuma/Malema and see no reason why this should be any different. In short, it really has nothing to do with the anthem and everything to do with the same old axes that people like to grind.
Some have even suggested that the problem here is with the anthem itself. Our current national hymn is certainly fraught with difficult connotations. So, perhaps we need a new anthem that is unencumbered from the past. We could run a national competition, like they did for the new flag. Then we could set up a ‘National Anthem Idols’ so that the public could vote for their favourite song. It would be huge! In fact, make that idea © David Fleminger.
But I’m getting carried away…
My point is that all this is beside the point. So, instead of carping about the details, let’s see what lessons we can learn from the Anthemgate saga. Firstly, Ras Dumisani probably shouldn’t be allowed to perform in the opening ceremony of the World Cup next year. Secondly, the various sporting organisations that set up these international events should do a bit of homework and draw up a list of qualified singers who can do justice to the anthem. To absolve themselves of responsibility suggests laziness and apathy. Thirdly, if we are so precious about our national anthem then we should all learn the bloody words.
Finally, and most significantly, I think we should take a positive message out of this whole fiasco. As I mentioned, despite the prevailing climate of negativity, Anthemgate has shown that South Africans are generally protective of their beautiful country. Why else would we get upset when a duff singer messes up Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika?
So, let’s turn over a new leaf and embrace our South African-ness, starting with the national anthem. Yes, it’s a rather lugubrious little ditty. And yes, it’s an incongruous hybrid of 4 languages and two totally different tunes. But as such it is an honest reflection of our complex national identity, in all its misshapen glory.
In essence, I guess I am saying that we should try to be more patriotic towards our beloved country. When things go wrong in the United States (and they often do) the Americans do not respond by threatening to emigrate. That’s because they are secure in their belief that they are living in the greatest Goddammed country in the whole Goddammed world ever, and any setbacks they encounter are merely speed bumps on the road to a better life in the land of the free etc.
In South Africa, however, our faith in the country (especially as white people) is a lot more equivocal and conditional. Every depressing news story is another reason why we are doomed. Every corrupt politician is another nail in the coffin of our collective hopes. And every single issue degenerates into an unhelpful argument about racism.
I’m not saying that we shouldn’t question authority – politicians around the world need to be watched like hawks. I’m also not saying that we must blindly accept the decrees of the state – that would be downright communistic. But I am asserting that we should embrace the fundamental values of South Africa and continue to support our country as we stagger together into the future. What’s wrong with a bit of optimism, people?
In other words, and I never thought I’d say this, I think it’s high time we started behaving more like the Americans. IMHO.
I haven’t really got time to chat. I’m trying to get everything finished for a trip to Canada. No. I’m not going to claim refugee status. My brother lives there (legally) and he’s getting married.
But how about story? You know, the one about the guy who has been living in Canada for years and has now claimed refugee status because he is being targeted by systematic racism perpetrated by the government and the criminal underworld against white people. What a doos!
And how stupid are those bleeding-heart Canadians who have fallen for his ploy. Look, crime is a problem in SA and if you feel you have to leave that is absolutely fine. But apply for emigration like a normal person – don’t drag down an entire nation with your personal paranoia. Anyway, Canada is welcome to Mr. Brandon Huntley. Let’s hope he likes Chinese people or else he is going to feel very uncomfortable on the streets of Toronto.
Actually, it seems like the last few days have brought a slew of utterly ludicrous news stories. Mo Shaik as the head of National Intelligence?! You cannot be serious. Talk about putting the lunatics in charge of the asylum. No offense to the Shaiks, but they are hardly beyond reproach when it comes to matters of legality. Let’s hope it’s just a silly rumour that will go away soon.
Next, here are three words I never thought I’d read together: ‘Axe-wielding ultra-Orthodox Jews’. No, it isn’t a scene from a new horror movie called ‘Night of the Living Dead Rabbis’, it’s some protest in Israel by a group of frummahs who are protesting the decision to open a nearby car park on the Sabbath. I kid you not.
Then, there’s the whole Caster Semenya gender controversy, the collapse of the SABC, the taxi industry shooting at busses because they are claiming ownership of routes that they neither built nor pay to maintain, the 18-year incarceration of a woman in California and dozens of other stories that simply beggar belief – all seasoned with the regular outbursts from Julius Malema. The only piece of sanity I’ve come across lately is the conviction of Judge Motata for drunk driving.
In short, I can’t take it anymore. Thank goodness I’m going to Canada where nothing happens. I need the rest. IMHO.
Usually, on a Sunday, I wake up late and mooch around the house. All right, I do that most days of the week. But this Sunday, I did the 702/Discovery Health Walk the Talk. And I must congratulate the organisers for putting together an outstanding event.
Apart from the queue to get into the parking lot (which we expected) it was a genuine pleasure to be a part of this annual walkabout. The facilities were excellent. The marshals were pleasant. The weather was great. The crowd was in good spirits. And it was a rare treat to walk along the beautiful suburban streets of our city, lined with tall trees that are impressive even in their winter nakedness.
More importantly, it was great to see so many Joburgers venture out from behind their residential walls and come together in a seething tide of amiable humanity. We live in such a stressful, paranoid urban environment; it does the spirit a world of good to engage in a joyful communal experience. There were even a group of entrepreneurial kids selling home-made lemonade from their front gate – just like in the comics.
I even took my dog – the beloved Sophie – along for the walk, and she also had a ball. Regular watering points were laid out by the people at Royal Canin (thanks Ivor) and there was barely a snarl or a snap to be seen. That’s pretty impressive when you have about 2000 dogs in close proximity.
Then again, I wasn’t that surprised at the Canine camaraderie. I am a daily dog walker so I know that dogs are pretty chilled when they are on common ground. It’s only if they have territory to protect that you have to watch out. And I think it’s the same with humans. When we are at home, we tend to be defensive and anxious – always patrolling our perimeter. When we venture outside, however, we are able to relax and share our space with others.
Some cynical denizens of Jozi might scoff at my idealism. You can’t go outside, they’ll say, it’s too dangerous. To those unhappy few who are too scared (or scarred) to brave our public spaces, I say ‘give it a try’. I mean, there were between 50 000 and 60 000 people at Walk the Talk, including a good mix of people from every race, creed and nationality, and there were no apparent incidents. Not even a little rawl.
The only thing that saddened me as I strolled down the wide avenues of Emmarentia is that our city would be so much more beautiful if our homes weren’t surrounded by high walls. When you go overseas, the first thing you notice is that the homes are generally open to the street. This makes for an open environment, which impacts positively on the attitudes of citizens and visitors alike.
Now, I know that our crime problems are still too severe to consider taking down the walls but I do hope for a day when we can lower the barricades just a bit, so that passers-by can enjoy the sight of our gardens and trees. Until then, however, I encourage everyone to take to the streets, parks and public places of Johannesburg. It helps keep the fear in check.
That’s why I walk my dogs every day. It’s my daily dose of normality. It keeps me sane and grounded, and I can’t do without it. So, the next time that you feel like the Joburg pressure cooker is getting too much to bear, join me and what I like to call the ‘Common Ground movement’.
Get out there. Mingle. Rub shoulders with your fellow Joburgers. Let your kids scramble on the jungle gyms in our parks (and encourage our council to build better public playgrounds). You’d be surprised how pleasant people can be when you leave the walls behind. IMHO.
It’s the hottest corruption scandal in America at the moment, featuring a stellar cast of crooks that includes three mayors, two members of the New Jersey state legislature and number of Jewish priests. That’s right. A flock of rabbis have been caught doing something not kosher.
Apparently, the FBI’s been investigating the matter for 10 years and law enforcement officials say the case ‘originally focused on a network [that allegedly] laundered tens of millions of dollars through charities controlled by rabbis in New Jersey and neighbouring New York.’ The criminal network later expanded into political circles, thanks to the construction boom in New Jersey, to the point that corruption became ‘ingrained in New Jersey’s political culture’. Just like South Africa’s Home Affairs Department.
While corruption in any form is as disgusting as it is destructive – that’s not the point of this article (although I am glad to see that this kind of thing happens in the First World as much as it does in darkest Africa). Instead, I want to talk about those rabbis. I mean, really! It’s enough to make you choke on your kreplach. Everyone is allowed to make a little money, but this is ridiculous. One rabbi is even accused of trafficking in human kidneys harvested for transplant patients. That’s really horrific – it’s not like we’re talking about chopped liver here.
Yes, this is the kind of story gets you right in the kishkes. What a shande! These frummer ganefs are giving all Jews a bad name – just like that Bernie Madoff shyster, or South Africa’s own Barry Tannenbaum. With all these high profile fraud and corruption cases involving Jewish individuals, it’s little wonder that some goyim persist in believing dated anti-semitic nonsense such as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. Feh!
You’ll forgive me if I wax Yiddish, but I’m bloody angry at these schmucks because the last thing the Jews need at the moment is more bad press. We’ve got enough tsoris already, what with the problems in the Middle East and that mesugganeh shiksa Madonna trying to convert everyone to Kabbalah.
So, in an attempt to clear the air, allow me to say that if the accused Rabbis mentioned above are found guilty then they should be treated with the contempt they deserve. Besides, it’s not like observant Jews are the only ones who get involved in dodgy dealings. Sadly, religion and ethics often have very little to do with one another.
Throughout history there have been numerous examples of supposedly pious people following the letter of the law, but not the spirit. Pederast priests, murderous Mormons, sinister spiritualists, tearful Tammy-Fayes, sinning Swaggarts and corrupt cult leaders are all guilty of putting themselves above the law while simultaneously claiming to follow the word of God.
After all, being a rabbi or a priest is little more than a qualification for which you study, and being the leader of a congregation can be seen as just another job. You get bad doctors and rotten lawyers, so should we really be surprised when some holy roller gets bust for being decidedly human?
Nevertheless, as a proud but defiantly secular Jew, I am dismayed that this latest scandal has come so soon after that Madoff putz went spectacularly bust. I have never been directly affected by anti-Semitism (thankfully, South Africa has one of the lowest levels of anti-Semitism in the world) but I am aware that there are several prevalent attitudes towards Jews which are embedded into the global consciousness. These range from the complimentary (those Jews are clever) to the downright hateful (watch out for those scheming, money grabbing, insular hook-nosed hebes – did I get that right, Ahmadinejad?).
Of course, every cultural or racial group is saddled with a number of similar stereotypes. The Italians are all violent Mafiosi (just look at the Sopranos). The Greeks are all corner-café Costas (who charge triple for a loaf of bread). The Chinese are inscrutable (and they’re going to take over the world). Vegetarians have smelly farts (that one might be true actually). The British all have bad teeth (that might also be true). The Canadians are dull (definitely true). And so on…
But I’m digressing.
Sometimes, this kind of pseudo-sociology can be fun. I’m all for a good laugh at someone else’s expense – although I will admit that cultural jokes are always more appropriately told by a member of the group being mocked. Other times, it’s just a matter of innocent ignorance. I remember back at varsity, I was asked if I practise ‘Jewcraft’. Realising that the person didn’t really know any better, I cheerfully corrected her and we proceeded to have a constructive conversation.
And then, of course, there are those terrible times when it all becomes deadly. And I’m not just talking about the classic Nazi-driven Holocaust. Rwanda, Sudan and Serbia have all suffered horrific genocides based on nothing more than a difference in language, religion or culture. Not to mention more mundane specifics, such as the desire for land, minerals or political power. Similarly, South Africa’s inglorious system of apartheid had more to do with the need for cheap labour than with racial ideology. In fact, you could say that most racial or cultural conflicts are really a cover-up for ignoble political and economic agendas, and not the other way around. Just look at the Crusades, or the British Empire.
I guess what I am saying is that we should always be careful not to extrapolate the actions of an individual (or even individuals) so that their shortcomings come to represent an entire group. Trite as it may sound, there are bad people in every walk of life just as there are good people in every walk of life. Thus, no culture, race or nation is immune from something like corruption, just as no culture, race or nation is totally immersed in corruption – not even the Nigerians.
The converse, however, also applies. As ‘good people’ we should always be on the lookout for bad behaviour, even when it is committed by someone who is part of our own little cultural cluster. As some bloke named Edmund Burke is supposed to have said, way back in the 1700s, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good men to do nothing”.
And this rejection of wrongdoing should not be seen as being disloyal. Rather, it is a matter of being credible. If you have been given substantial proof that one of your mates did something wrong, you have to condemn them for their actions. If you don’t, you are simply becoming complicit with their bad behaviour.
It can be tough, I know. There have been occasions where I have criticised the behaviour of the Israeli armed forces, much to the dismay of my more fervent friends. But that’s just how I roll. I call it as I see it. And that’s why I say that these rabbis (if found guilty) should be struck off by the Beth Din and be forced to eat pork. IMHO.
I wasn’t going to follow up my contentious Michael Jackson blog with anything similar. Angry MJ fans who were pissed off with the previous piece would only question my motives by saying that I am seeking publicity. And I didn’t particularly want to get slammed again.
Besides, I’ve already offered my opinion (which is the eponymous if egotistical reason for this blog). I’m not even that interested in the subject of Jacko. So, from here on in, I’ll be keeping my head down and doing my best to avoid the long, inevitable MJ media circus that will be in town for the foreseeable future.
More importantly, I have learned my lesson and will never again mess with MJ fans. Those guys are serious! I would be kidding myself if I said that I didn’t expect some kind of negative reaction from my little blog (which was uncomplimentary towards the Gloved One) but I was genuinely shocked at the virulence of the fans’ anger towards me.
Not that I have a problem with being abused. I can dish it out so I should be able to take it. In fact, the experience became strangely compelling. You know how a puppy can’t distinguish between good attention and bad attention? That was me! I found myself rushing back to the computer every few hours to see what new piece of vitriol had been hurled my way. I’m even more embarrassed to admit that I got a pathetic jolt of joy every time I read a response that supported my point of view.
I got so involved in the whole thing that I started surfing around to find out what other people were saying about MJ. There was this one site where the comment chain was staggeringly aggressive, with Jackophobes and Jackobites flailing at each other like hysterical children (with potty mouths). It made me and my humble string look like a bunch of pussycats.
Then, at three in the morning, I suddenly realised that I was reading a blog about how Elizabeth Taylor and MJ’s dermatologist were part of a plot to fake MJ’s death so that the King of Pop could live anonymously in peace, just like Elvis. When I got to the third page of comments, which alternated between gleeful ridicule and grateful support for the theory, I realised that I had gone too far. I had to pull back from the precipice. Enough was enough.
So, I’ve snapped out of all that MJ stuff. I’m switching off. An abusive relationship is never healthy, even when it’s mutual. Instead, I’ve decided to move on to less controversial topics. Like Sarah Palin. Mark my words, she’s going to get her own talk show very soon. Or a sitcom. They could call it ‘Bulldog With Lipstick’. She’d be great on television – as long as they give her a script.
Speaking of Sarah Palin, I love Tina Fey in 30 Rock. The show’s snappy, goofy, intelligent – and Alec Baldwin is The Man. He used to be such an arsehole on-screen but now he’s brilliant. It shows you how a person can thrive if they have a sense of humour about themselves.
How am I doing so far? Did I offend any Sarah Palin fans out there? Or does anyone still hate Alec Baldwin because he called his 11 year old daughter ‘a rude, thoughtless little pig’?
Hell, I don’t know anymore. You can’t say anything even remotely interesting without offending someone. After all, there’s no accounting for taste. And that’s a good thing. It keeps things fresh. If everyone enjoyed the same stuff, the world would be terribly boring, like Canada.
Nevertheless, it’s quite difficult to be tolerant of other people’s predilections. Those who love olives simply cannot understand anyone who hates the taste. ‘But how can you not like olives/coffee/asparagus/Michael Jackson?’ they will ask in uncomprehending amazement.
Most people would leave it at that – a bit of friendly banter about olives. But not the fans. Oh no. Fans are prepared to fight for their olives. They stand strong and true in their belief that olives are good and, consequently, tend to be blind to any of the fruit’s faults.
More than that, a true believer will try to tempt you, convince you, convert you. Anything to make you come around to their way of thinking; to join their group. And if you refuse, they will damn and curse you for rejecting their offer of salvation.
Admittedly, we all have a bit of ‘fanboy’ inside us. Everyone has personal favourites they will try to push on others, while simultaneously attacking enemy positions. It’s usually done in a sense of fun but the impulse can easily turn deadly, as history has repeatedly demonstrated.
Some say that we behave in this way because we like to belong to clubs. Societies of like-minded individuals that provide a sense of communal identity can be comforting, especially in our rootless, post post-modern world. We also find it self-affirming when other people back up our decisions – however petty they may be. In other words, it feels good when your taste is validated by others, just as it feels bad when one of your personal passions gets dissed.
But here’s the rub. Dissing is essential. Fans need an opposing force in order to define themselves. Where would the Mods be without the Rockers? Where would Smokey be without the Bandit? Where would Bill Gates be without Steve Jobs?
Yes, detractors and supporters need one another, just like America needs Iran. You can’t fight it. Polarity is a force of nature and sticking to the middle ground is exhausting. It’s much more fun to pick sides. Have you ever met an entertaining moderate?
So that’s why I will continue to state my opinions boldly, even if it does sound a little too forceful at times. People may get offended because they think I’m being arrogant. But just because I can be definitive in my tone, it doesn’t mean that I don’t respect the opinions and tastes of others. I may not like olives (which I don’t) but that doesn’t mean I think everyone who eats olives is stupid.
Celine Dion, on the other hand, is another story. She’s a line in the sand which cannot be crossed. IMHO.
All right. I confess. I never liked Michael Jackson. Even at his height, during the 80s, I thought he was an over-rated freak. The sparkly glove, the red jacket, the permed hair, the crotch grabbing, the nasal ‘he-hee’s – I just didn’t get it. He could definitely dance (especially backwards) but his singing left me cold and his songs were either simplistic ditties about a pet rat or over-produced anthems featuring a disjointed montage of shrieks and platitudes.
But now, a week or two after his death, I am forcing myself to reassess my opinion of the gloved one. And you know what? I still think he’s an over-rated freak. Yes, he’s sold a gazillion records but popular success has never been an indication of quality. Yes, he raised the profile of the music video with Thriller and transformed the way the music business promotes its artists, but has that turned out to be such a good thing? And yes, he was ‘the king of pop’ but let’s not forget that he gave himself that particular encomium.
So, I’m not a fan but I still felt sorry for his passing. Why? Well, firstly, he did die prematurely and that’s always sad. A teacher once defined tragedy as a loss of potential and, in that respect, MJ has been a tragic figure for at least the last decade.
I also think that the poor bloke was operating under a huge amount of pressure. Both his career and reputation were in tatters after the various child molestation allegations and he was desperate for a comeback to redeem himself in the eyes of the public.
All in all, it was make or break time. The ‘king of pop’ needed to pull one out of the hat or else risk losing his title (and therefore his identity) forever. And I think that’s what killed him: the pressure to live up to his self-imposed hype. I’ll even go further and state that I believe he committed subconscious suicide; starving himself and knocking back a lethal concoction of pharmaceuticals so that he would burn out rather than fade away.
Think about it. If the London concerts had failed in any way, he would have been a laughing stock and that was a risk that neither his bank account nor his ego could take. Furthermore, he was frail and out of practise – not the kind of person capable of undertaking a gruelling series of 50 live engagements.
So, instead of risking his future on a long-shot concert series, wouldn’t it be better to up and die in a blaze of unconsummated glory? Thus, with one fell swoop, all the sins of the past were washed away and his records leapt to the top of charts once again. It was the comeback that he always wanted and the fact that he isn’t alive to see it doesn’t really matter.
In the final analysis, then, what do we make of this enigmatic personality named Michael Jackson? Will his music overshadow his bizarre lifestyle or will he be remembered as that ‘Wacko Jacko’ who made a bit of music on the side?
Well, unfortunately, I think it will be the latter. I mean, he was one serious looney and Billie Jean was so very long ago. But I do not believe that MJ was an innocent victim in all this. Quite the opposite. I think MJ was an active participant in his own demise. He became so famous and so wealthy that he started behaving as if he was above the rules. He did as he pleased and got irrevocably lost in the stars. Then, when he was held accountable for something, he behaved like a spoiled child who couldn’t believe that anyone would dare to question his decisions.
Apart from this lack of grounding, I think MJ was a deeply conflicted individual. I am reasonably certain that he was gay (which, until recently, was unacceptable for a major music star) and he had a very real problem with being born black. That’s why he went to such lengths to die as a white woman.
Oh, and he was also a junkie and an inveterate denialist. No plastic surgery, a skin lightening disease – oh please! In short, he is a Freudian smorgasbord of delusions, psychoses and neuroses.
In his defence, however, I don’t really know whether he ever molested little boys. I think that he was genuinely naïve and honestly believed that he could make the world a better place by having sleep-overs at his house. After all, this was a man who desperately clung to the concept of eternal youth and, when considered in that light, you could say that his sleeping in the same bed as little boys is simply a matter of Michael hanging out with his peers.
Of course, I never knew the man. Then again, I don’t think many people did. So allow me conclude by offering my sincere condolences to his family and fans. Rest in Peace MJ – you freak. IMHO.
Is it just me or are the cellular networks dropping a lot more calls than usual? In the past, the occasional dropped call was a nuisance but, all things considered, not a problem. After all, the mere fact that we could phone a friend while driving down the highway at a 100km an hour was remarkable in itself.
However, lately, the cellular networks seem to be resting on their considerably overstuffed laurels. I’m not sure what the problem is, but I am currently experiencing a dropped call rate of about 1 in 3 and that is simply not acceptable. And it’s not just a problem with my phone. It seems that everywhere I go, I hear the constant refrain, ‘Can you hear me? Can you hear me now? How about now?’
As proof of this, recently, the cell phone companies were hauled before ICASA to explain themselves in this regard. The main complaint was that, if the networks cannot handle the current call volumes, then how are they going to manage the increased amount of voice traffic expected during the World Cup?
The cell phone companies did not seem to present any viable solutions to this problem and, in some cases, denied that it was a problem at all. But the worst part of it is that there is simply no incentive for the networks to improve their service. Each dropped call usually results in a follow up call, incurring a second charge on your bill. So, the more dropped calls there are, the more money the cell phone companies make. It’s institutionalised robbery.
My suggestion would be to force the cell phone companies to reverse the charges of any calls that are immediately followed up by a second call to the same number, say within a time frame of ten seconds. This way, the consumer will not have to pay twice for a service that is already expensive by international standards.
This may not be the most appealing solution for the networks who will doubtlessly fight tooth and nail to maintain their impressive profit margins. However, I am gatvol of being penalised for the networks’ inability to deliver on their service promises. We get enough of that from Eskom, or Telkom, or the SABC.
So, cell phone users of the world unite! Or else we will all spend the next few years holding our cell phones in the air and shouting ‘how about now?’. IMHO.
I just got back from Cape Town and, once again, I am amazed by how utterly alien the place is. It truly is another country down there; cut off from the rest of Africa by a range of jagged mountains and coated with a thick layer of smug.
OK, I get it. The city is a couple of hundred years older than Joburg or Durban and the streets have a tangible sense of history that money simply cannot buy. The landscape is also pretty remarkable. You can’t help but be overwhelmed by the beauty of its steep slopes, open seas and that bloody Mountain with a cloud on top.
But it’s all so different. The wind howls around the tiny houses, everything’s damp and rusty, and everybody has to park their cars on the street – it’s all too much for a good Joburg boy.
The people are different too. In Joburg, our cars are more important than our clothes, believe it or not. After all, we use our cars a lot. It’s a big city and most people have jobs to get to. Cape Town, on the other hand, has a sorry collection of old jalopies on the road but the drivers look fantastic.
And the food is another thing. You simply can’t get a decent sandwich in Joburg, but Cape Town is full of continental delis where people while away the working day; drinking soya-bean latés and eating pumpkin and pumpernickel paninis.
One time, I went to the Old Biscuit Mill, which has a great food market. I couldn’t decide where to eat since I only had one stomach, but there was a stall selling eye-catching pizzas that I just had to try. The queue was long and, while I was waiting, I overheard a customer ask the chef why he doesn’t open a restaurant. The pragmatic stall owner replied that there was too much competition and Capetonians weren’t rich. He then charged R100 for the pizza.
To be fair, the culinary creation in question boasted a crispy hand-made base, made from imported Italian wheat and was topped with imported Italian tomato paste, imported Italian rocket leaves, imported Italian ham, imported Italian asparagus and drizzled with imported Italian balsamic vinegar. Of course, everything was certified organic, with wheat-free wheat, cheese-free cheese and preservative-free preservatives.
And it was delicious. I tried to be dismissive of the overstuffed, self-satisfied concoction. I tried to be outraged by the price (which wasn’t advertised anywhere on the stand). I even tried to be angry with a culinary culture that emphasises Eurocentric ingredients over local produce. But I couldn’t. I liked the pizza too much and I ate the whole damn thing. Then I washed it down with a ginseng smoothie.
And therein lies the seductive appeal of oxymoronic Cape Town. It’s a city that’s annoyingly beautiful, decadently poor and repulsively appealing. Sometimes, I think the whole place is the ultimate triumph of style over substance. On other occasions, I think that I’m just a Joburger who doth protest too much. I suppose, in the final analysis, it all depends on what you are prepared to pay for. IMHO.
Newscasters of the world rejoice! The election is over. Obama has won and the months of relentless news coverage can now FINALLY stop.
Yes, after nearly two years of endless ramblings by political pundits, the Great American Election Spectacular has closed. And what a saga it has been…
It all began with the Hilary and Obama show. This entertaining little diversion was fun in the beginning, but started getting very repetitive towards the end. Hilary should have taken a cue from Jerry Seinfeld who knew to quit before things got stale.
Then McCain joined the cast as Obama’s nemesis. Unfortunately, the grumbling grandpa was simply not dynamic enough and his trademark moves, such as the double-handed thumbs-up and the deathmask smile, were not the ratings booster that the Republicans wanted. So they brought in Sarah Palin for a wacky cameo role as Tina Fey.
But even this piece of stunt casting failed to stop the meteoric rise of Barack Obama. With his palpable charisma, superb oratory and dazzling smile, the young senator from Illinois seemed destined for great things – and this has indeed come to pass.
When you look at it, the fact that Obama won the race is not surprising. Like Ronald Reagan, Obama is a Great Communicator and nothing wins American elections like a good, snappy speech. I also think that voters didn’t want to find themselves on the wrong side of history. And there was also the convenient truth that the outgoing Bush regime is one of the most unpopular governments in American history. All in all, as one analyst has said, the Democrats could have picked a name out of a phone book and still won the election.
But this shouldn’t take anything away from Obama. He fought an excellent and consistent campaign. Ok, he spent nearly $700 million dollars on ads, posters, travel and staff, and that’s a ton of cash. But I guess the end justifies the financial means and he was definitely the right man for the job, winning more than twice as many electoral college votes as McCain.
So, the most powerful country in the world now has a black president. Very impressive. But it’s time to move beyond the racial issue – after all, we’ve had black presidents since 1994, so what’s the big deal? I’m much more interested in results.
More specifically, what’s Obama going to do about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan? How is the new administration going to pull the country (and the world) out of the financial mess it’s caused? What are CNN and Sky News going to do with all the computers they bought to create those glossy graphics? And, perhaps most importantly, what’s going to happen to John McCain, Sarah Palin and good old George W. Bush?
Well, I think that they should all quit politics to star in their own sitcom. I mean, it’s not like any of them have much of a political legacy to fall back on. And think about it. It would be a smash hit.
McCain would star a crusty family patriarch who always walks around with his thumbs up and addresses everyone as ‘my friends’. Palin would be his moose-hunting daughter who is a shopping addict and a fervent supporter of teenage pregnancy. And Bush would have a regular role as crazy Uncle Georgie who keeps coming up with plans to take over North Korea. Now that’s entertainment. IMHO.
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11
Jessie Duarte Loses the Plot
My jaw literally dropped open when I heard Jessie Duarte’s recent outburst to a member of the press. Briefly, and from the perspective of an external listener, the context is as follows: a journalist for The Times was interviewing Ms. Duarte about the ANC’s online activities. At first, things were going OK. Then, JD started fishing for a fight and asked The Times reporter to hurry up and get to the point – which she already knew had to be negative, because The Times is that kind of paper. She was acting like a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.
Faced with this implacable and naked distrust, the hapless journo soldiered on by asking if Jacob Zuma was personally involved in the online dialogue. With this, Duarte sprang and accused the journo of implying that the future president couldn’t read. She proceeded to attack the newspaper behind the journo, saying that it needed to ‘get a life’, and finished off by calling the poor hack an illiterate racist. Finally, after pointing out the interviewer wasn’t a genius, just a journalist, the redoubtable JD did say that he could call her back with any questions.
It was a shocking display on many levels, and I’m sure you’re going to read more about it in the days to come. But I’m quite angry about this, so I’ll try to outline my concerns.
Firstly, and most obviously, it is clear to any rational person that the journalist was asking a simple question: does JZ himself read and respond to online comments? In an age of spin doctors and publicists, I feel that it was a reasonable question. It was in no way whatsoever related to Zuma’s education, intellectual capacity or taste in literature.
Secondly, Duarte is supposed to be a spokesperson. She isn’t just an ordinary citizen mouthing off, or a regional government representative saying something silly, or even the leader of Youth League doing a bit of rabble-rousing. She is the official media liaison between the ANC and the press, and she should be able to do her job correctly.
This means that she should have spotted the correct answer to the question, being that: yes indeed, Zuma is personally involved in a number of on-line activities and does take the time to answer questions from voters, thank you for asking. Instead, she launched off on an unprovoked tirade that was unexpected, hateful and totally irrational. As such, she is incompetent as a spokesperson and should be re-evaluated by her employer.
Next, we have the issue of a government official attacking a newspaper in such blatant terms. Whatever her issues are with the paper in question (and it doesn’t matter which one it is), she should be professional enough to answer her interviewer with respect. Instead, we got hysteria – uncontrolled rage – and that’s a frightening thing to witness.
In a broader sense, however, I am most concerned with what this means for the future of an independent news media in South Africa. There are a lot of people in the New ANC who have good reason to dislike the press and they are going to become very powerful in whatever government we are about to get. If this means that they are going to start treating the media with contempt, then it is a very worrying sign. Censorship by degrees is insidious.
All in all, I’m poep-scared. Our nascent democracy depends on maintaining an independent media, judiciary, commercial sector and (dare I say it) civil service. Yes, there needs to be checks and balances, and no-one should act like a God – not even the ANC. But freedom of speech, messy and inefficient as the concept may be, is essential if we are going to we are going to survive as a nation; independent from party politics.
I’m not saying the ANC (or any political party) doesn’t have a right to complain about perceived prosecution from the press. There are at least two sides to every story. But they should have sense enough to do so in an appropriate manner and forum. Losing one’s temper, for whatever reason, is never a good thing. Unless you are a Viking berserker and it’s your job to go mental with a battle axe. If that’s the case, go wild. But if you’re just a battle axe who’s gone mental, you should learn to control yourself, dammit. IMHO.