Sarah Britten

The students are trashing the place, again

Oh look, it’s protest season again. Wits students campaigning against a fee increase have participated in the time-honoured tradition of trashing the campus, invading lectures and intimidating non-protestors. I was in first year when all of this first started, back in 1993. Back then, dewy-eyed liberals like me were trying to get our heads around…

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If only time was more like plasticine

I am typing this as I sit in one of our boardrooms. I’m waiting for a meeting. I’m always waiting for meetings. Nobody ever shows up at the time at which Outlook says a meeting should start; sometimes it’s because I didn’t get the update, or there’s been a last-minute cancellation, or everybody else has…

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Tainted blood, machine guns and metaphor

Earlier this afternoon, (it’s a Sunday, and I last watched a Formula 1 Grand Prix when I was nine years old and Nelson Piquet was still around), I found myself, as usual, collating material for my chapter on Jacob Zuma, Helen Zille and the Wild Whore Libido, when I happened across this quote from fellow…

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Some of my favourite examples of the race card

Ah, the race card. Where would we be without it? Zapiro sums the latest up quite nicely here. Owing to my research for the insult books, I’ve been collecting fine examples of the use of the race card for years. Amongst my more recent acquisitions: “They want to undermine the African Union and (South African)…

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Why would the Canadians want Huntley?

Why didn’t former Capetonian Brandon Huntley get off his skinny backside and apply for permanent residence in Canada through the normal channels like everyone else? Oh, for sure, the emigration process involves spending a lot of money, filling in lots of forms, and spending a lot of time in queues at home affairs, which is…

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Why do we love the bush the way we do?

The bush. Before those of you who fancy yourselves as connoisseurs of the pun bring forth your double entendres, I will state that there’s nothing sexual about this blog entry, or related to narcotics for that matter. No, what I mean is the bush, that mysterious admixture of hardekool smoke and veld, days of dust…

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Why is Caster ‘our little girl’ anyway?

Poor Caster Semenya, magically transformed into a political football nearly a year ahead of the World Cup. Suddenly she finds herself a symbol of the injured womanhood of the nation, under attack by cynical and racist white people, both South African and Australian. What’s interesting is the repeated reference to Caster as “our little girl”….

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Why oh why do I hate Fourways so?

The comedian David Kibuuka, who is originally from Uganda, used to start his set with the words: “Hi, I’m David and I’m from Fourways.” It always got a laugh, and, until recently, I never paused to ask myself why. After all, lots of black people live in Fourways. So why should the notion that a…

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What makes accountants so special anyway?

I wish I was an accountant. Really. If I were an accountant, I’d be like my cousin, who’s younger than me and drives a top-end Mercedes. He’s just bought a R3.5 million house, and that’s without having to sell the one he already owns. All because he did a BCom and became a CA. Speaking of…

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So I’ve gone cold turkey on Facebook

So I’ve deactivated my Facebook profile. The 339 people who included me in their networks of friends may or may not have noticed that I’ve simply vanished. Gone. And it’s wonderful. I thought I’d be devastated, as though a limb had suddenly been removed, but I feel liberated. A new person. Perhaps this is how…

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