Johnny Anger

Ad shenanigans

On December 20, I sent the final page of my 200th edition of Grocott’s Mail to press in the basement of the building. The press began clunking. It was with a heavy heart that I shut down my computer for the last time and became the former youngest editor of the country’s oldest newspaper. Some…

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Editor’s choice

After the previous post on reporters’ mistakes, Tash Joseph dared me to file a post about slip-ups I have made in the editor’s chair. Editors making mistakes? Never. OK, this is an expensive blunder I made during my first month as Grocott’s editor. I could hear the presses whirring. I could smell the ink. As…

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Shirt happens

The first email plopped into my inbox at 7.03pm. It was from the National Prosecuting Authority and the subject line was “Serial rapist found guilty”. “Justice George Maluleka,” read the statement, “has been found guilty of raping 57 women. He is by far one of the worst serial rapists in this country. He had caused…

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Arrested development

The mayhem started at 7am last week Wednesday when a bakkie with eight people loaded on the back overturned. It ended 12 hours later with a crash that saw four women — one of whom was pregnant — killed. In between the crashes, there was an armed cash heist. This all took place in what…

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A meanie in iRhini?

Thabo Mbeki has thrown a spanner into the Bafana Bafana works by suggesting that the national team change its name. “Boys, boys” just ain’t good enough for a national side. (Perhaps it’s time that somebody pointed out that the players themselves ain’t good enough for a national side. Ouch!) It’s not the first time the…

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I have the right to remain silent

This was published in Grocott’s Mail on November 17 2006: Captain Riaan Havenga pulled out a brown file stamped with the SAPS badge and started to fill it in. “Name?” “Jonathan.” “Surname?” “Ancer.” “ID number?” I rattled off the numbers and he wrote them down and then paused. His lips formed into a small smile….

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My brush with the law

It felt like I was back at school and in the headmaster’s office. I checked to see that my top button was fastened. It wasn’t. It wasn’t the headmaster’s office, but it was close enough. It was the office of the Eastern Cape deputy director of public prosecutions (DDPP) — and although we were sipping…

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Subscription rage

Whenever I see a certain former editor of the Mail & Guardian (who may or may not have a missing tooth), a small shiver of guilt shoots up my spine. If, from a karma perspective, one’s bad behaviour comes back to bite one in the ass, then my ass has teeth marks. It started with…

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Angry utterance (9)*

For two weeks, there was something wrong with the world. It was like there was yin but no yang — or was there yang but no yin? It’s sometimes too difficult to tell one’s yin from one’s yang. The day started off just like any other day with Khwezi, our toddler, waking us up at…

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The angriest man in Grahamstown

If I were at home at this moment, there is no question that I would be the angriest man in Grahamstown. But I’m not. I’m in Port Elizabeth, which Idols judge Gareth Cliff recently described as the armpit of South Africa. I don’t care much for Gareth, but in this case he has a point….

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