Who’s your Daddy?


So, anyway, I was having tea the other day (as one does) with a certain unnamed source at Nkandla (lovingly refurbished and upgraded by you, the caring taxpayer) and during the course of the conversation, we got on to the topic of how hard and boring it is to be the man at the top (as one does), how no one really respects me anymore, as it were and that I feel that I may have lost my purpose and/or moral compass.

It was decided that I needed to rediscover my sense of self, my well-being, my happiness.

And what does one do to make one’s self feel better?


You pick on someone and bully them!

The selection of the candidate was rather difficult, simply because we started at the end of the alphabet (ignoring the Z’s for obvious reasons) and randomly chose V, as one does, to avoid a lenghty debate over appropriateness.

And whose surname starts with a V?

Yes! V for Vavi!

I made some calls, but have since discovered that Brett Kebble is dead, China Dodovu has a prior engagement and Glynnis Breytenbach is no longer talking to me.

So we were left to spreading rumours and allegations, like high school girls at break time.

Things like financial irregularities, handshakes in darkened doorways, black bags of cash. None of which we have any evidence for, of course.

But now things have gotten out of hand. Completely.

What? No, this is all I got from awarding the tender.

This thing, this candle, or whatever it is, I found it in my desk drawer, ok?

Vavi is saying he knows who is out to get him. He is vowing to fight this fight, which fight is not really a fight, but rather a fight over who is the bigger boy on the playground.

At least in my opinion.

I have lost the joy again, that initial rush of happiness and now I need to do something else to make me feel better.

I know, I am going to do some therapy shopping. Nkandla needs a new tv room!



David Patraeus – Anatomy of a Downfall


It’s so simple.

I put to you the following:

Exhibit A:

What? This is 2012? What ever happened to the early 80’s?

Exhibit B:

Well, hello there soldier…want to drive my…tank?

Now, I think the above speaks for itself, as it were.
But don’t trust me, I have a shower head on my crown.

Why I did not post in July 2012



I got lost on the Road to Mangaung.

With all the changes to street names, I ended up in some place in the North Western Cape, alone and looking for a friendly place to lay my weary political head, as it where (and I do not refer to “the spear” here).

Oh &%$#, I think I am at the wrong place. Sorry.

I have now finally made it back to some place that has a cell phone tower and will heading back out of the political wilderness.


Changing Names – The Real Reasons – Conclusion (Part 3)


So there we have it:

The real reason why we change city, town and street names.

In a nutshell, as it were, I have tax payers money at my disposal. I need to spend it, but not on the opportunities listed previously.

Still with me?

To do so would defeat the object, namely my own.

You must however, understand that I still need to do something to show the masses that I/we are with them and what better way to do so by changing street names after people most of us have no clue who or what they are.

It is the fantastic diversionary tactic of honouring the so-called “Struggle Heroes”. And at the end of the day, people forget that they had to take a crap in the bushes, they forget that they have schooling till Grade 3, they forget that they are desperately ill, because once they tell others: “I took January Masilela into town this morning. You know, used to be Church street, now January Masilela. The struggle hero”, all is well with the world.


Finally, let the grand old Swazi King Mswati III be an example of what not to do. When faced with the opportunity of spending his voters’ money on changing street names or buying an aircraft, guess what he did?

He went with the plane.

Hey! Don’t touch me on my private jet! OK? Don’t touch me on my private jet!

And now? Now he has nowhere to park it.

Specifically not on January Masilela street!


Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 2) (C) Edookayshun


Edookayshun, also known in current parlance as “education”.

Where and how does this fit in, you ask.

Let me explain. It’s very simple.

Educated people question before they vote. They want to know what we/I have to deliver, have I made these promises before and have I delivered on these said promises in the past? (Answer: of course not. Not in a million years). Once they reach their own conclusions, they then vote on the basis of these silly, but correct conclusions.

The uneducated don’t. They do what we/I tell them to do. They are easily intimidated and easily fooled. (See Julius Malema). We promise them service delivery (see previous post), we promise them education, as it were, we promise them jobs and we promise them change.

You must use this finger…Huh? …No, your own and you must vote for us. We can bring the same change year after year. Huh? Hey, Bra van my, I know how much change the buses use!

And the uneducated, they don’t think and recognise their poor uneducated position.


They see the promises. They hold onto the promises and they vote for me, never thinking about four years back when they were spun the same rehashed crap.

Now son, let us say that in between elections we do in fact educate these people, my voting populace. We provide schools, we provide text books and toilet facilities with roofs, what do you think will happen?


They begin to think. They think about their places in society, about promises never kept, they start thinking for themselves.

And eventually, I have the hordes at my gates, wanting a slice of the pie, my pie (as it were).

So, there it is…education gives rise to problems. Namely for me.

In other words – a vote for education, is a vote against me.

Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 2) (B) Service Delivery


Right, let’s get back to the Name Changes game and the second reason as to why we do so: SERVICE DELIVERY.

Touchy subject.

This, son, is a multifaceted issue which needs to be navigated with a very good spokesperson by your side. preferably someone as thick-skinned and ignorant as Mr F Shivambu. Why? Because eventually someone’s “gonna get it in the neck” and it sure as … aint going to be me.

Now, let me get straight to the point:

Spending money on service delivery is dangerous!


Because it makes “them” used to a certain type of lifestyle, like enclosed flush toilets (See Democratic Alliance, Western Cape), running water and municipal waste collection. And once they are used to a certain lifestyle, as it were, they want a better one than the one they already have. And so on and so on, with the end result being that some idiot wants to move into the palace.

Which, obviously, is unacceptable!

Look! Look how dirty. First I have to poo in the bushes, then use the leaves to wipe. Ag sies man!

In any event I have a more important lifestyle to maintain and a much more expensive one at that, to be contributing tax payers money to the comfort of others.


That said, there is one very important exception to with holding service delivery and that, my son, is around election time. When touting for votes before elections (a completely unnecessary process in my case), it is useful to promise service delivery and then to very partially deliver on these promises. In other words, dig a few holes for latrines, mark out borders for housing and the such like. And once the elections are over, TADAAAA! all work can halt due to a “lack of funds from the community”. Works like a charm every time. Gets everybody in the same boat, as it were.

An added benefit of these silly promises is that you can put the jobs out to tender and have family members “win”. Ah yes, the tax payer has deep, deep pockets to pay for this frivolity. (If you know what I mean).

Lastly, on the issue of service delivery or the lack thereof, is that at some stage, it leads to protests, led by colonial rabble rousers. And this gives rise to?


An opportunity to flex one’s muscles in the form of a police action. Enter stage left, Mr Sebenza Whataboy Ditlopo (Lovely man).

That is all.


Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 2) A) HIV/AIDS


We previously started a discussion re: Changing city, town and street names and after giving you the reasons why we do it and which seem obvious, but are incorrect, I left you in suspense, as it were, as to the real reasons we do this.

You will, in all probability be offended by the actual factors, but life, my son, often offends.

It is an interesting point to note that the opposition is often the closest to the truth without even realising it. When ever the issue of name changes is brought up, they always end up pushing the same line:

“Why not spend the money that will be spent on name changes on issues like HIV/AIDS, service delivery and education”?

And therein, my son, lies the rub.

Firstly, and in the words of my previous incumbent (See Thabo Mbeki): “It is not clear as to whether HIV does in fact cause AIDS”. So why spend cash on an unproven scientific fact? You see my point? Why spend tax payer’s (read my) money on something when garlic and rhubarb will in all probability do the trick (See Mantombazana ‘Manto’ Edmie Tshabalala-Msimang).

RIP Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. The question is: Did she shower, or did she not!

RIP Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. The question is: Did she shower, or did she not!


(As an aside, just remember to take a shower after “the deed”. It worked for me).

Secondly and more to the point – we spend tax payer’s (see previous comment) money on HIV/AIDS and we save people’s lives. I know it is a fantastic PR opportunity in the short run, but in the long run what the AID (see “irony”) organisations do not tell you is that this causes a population explosion, which means more mouths to feed, more mouths to complain and more mouths to shut up!

And being a semi democratic (as it were) dictator, this is intolerable.

So, at the end of the day, my son, the first reason is all about manipulating the population, limiting the possibility of a growing opposition and keeping myself where I belong.

In power.

(Stay tuned for Part B)