It is nearly the end of the year. And in a time honoured tradition spanning the last three hours, I have compiled my shit list. These are the things and the people I feel need to be flushed down the proverbial john. Those little flecks on the toilet bowl of humanity that have spoiled an otherwise spotless year.
Bankers. Once again these fine men of the city have proven themselves to be the nearest thing we have to walking turds. For the last 10 years, they have drunk gazillions of litres of the world’s finest champagne, they have bought mansions and limos and yachts and holiday homes. They have buggered all the finest hookers in all the finest hotels in all the finest cities in the world. And we let them do that because they were meant to be looking after our money. Well, it turns out they were frauds. They had no idea what they were doing. While they claimed to be experts, they turned out to be morons. Greedy morons who spent more time jerking each other off with massive bonuses and slaps on the back than actually doing the job they were paid to do. I suppose there is a reason why banker rhymes with wanker.
Climate change sceptics. Two of the world’s leading climate sceptics are Sarah Palin and George Bush. The moose-shooting ex-governor of an oil-rich state and the gung-ho Texan oil-bro. That says everything about these people. Their reasons for doubting climate change have nothing to do with science and everything to do with cash. They like the status quo because it makes them money. It keeps them rich. They are the oil-pushers. The high-flying dealers in that black sticky junk that the world is addicted to. And what pusher wants his customer to go to rehab? I just hope one day that I open the paper to discover they have been eaten by a pack of polar bears.
Gareth Cliff. He is not here because of Manto. Yes, he showed scant respect for her family and that makes him a cock. But I can live with that. It is his right to be a cock. What I can’t abide is a mediocre cock. What I can’t stand is a flaccid little pecker pretending to be hard. Cliff is more soccer-mom than shock-jock. His jokes are boring and his insights are average. He resorts to lowbrow insults because his arsenal is empty. For a man who should have a machine-gun mouth he shoots blanks. He uses his words like blunt spoons rather than ninja stars. He is a Model-C student pretending to be a Tsotsi. Just look at this photo. Look at that hair and that smile. He has about as much personality as an Excel spreadsheet. You’d probably have more fun listening to the Tannoy system at the Home Affairs office than listening to his show.
Nokia. Connecting people — isn’t that what the ads say? Well, Nokia have taken their mission statement to a new level this year. Over in Iran they are connecting people like never before. It came out in the press this year that they sold the Iranian government a surveillance system that allowed them to monitor all mobile communications. Allowing the government to connect with their people in a very novel way — with batons around their heads. I suppose it is like Nokia says on its website: they are a “very human” company. Yes, they are. They are greedy and selfish bastids who would sell their own grandmothers to make a buck.
TL readers who only read blogs about race, Malema and the ANC. Well, this may be a bit pointless because the people I’m talking about are probably not reading this post. They are off fistpunching the keyboard replying to some godforsaken article about Juju, laughing about how dumb he is and how smart they are. They are rolling around in some verbal muck about today’s latest race-issue or screaming into their tea with indignation at how the low the ANC has sunk. Oh well, since it is the season of giving, we may as well throw them a crumb.
Jacob Zuma. Why does he get to marry five women? Does he not realize that nature made a 50/50 split on the sexes and that means there are four bros out there who won’t get a wife? I know all is fair in love and war but this is crazy. He’s old, he’s got a country to run, important things to do; he doesn’t have the time to be satisfying the needs of five ladies. Mr Zuma, I like your style but as one bro to another bro, please, you need to focus. Leave the ladies to the Egyptian football team.
People who sell hydroponic cannabis. Dude, WTF? This is South Africa. Land of the blazed and home of the weed. Yes, weed, as in bush, as in it grows by itself. Durban Poison, Swazi Gold, Transkei Reds, Malawi Cob. We have it all. We don’t need no R400 bag of bullshit purple power northern lights. I don’t care if the seeds were imported from San Fran or Amsterdam. Who the hell are you? Howard Marks. Get off your higher-than-thou horse and start rolling with the peeps. When I’m in SA, I’m looking to get zolled, I’m not looking for a clear strong sativa high. Save that shit for Mr Muggins of Higgovale.
The people who force us to use shopping malls. God, I hate shopping malls but what I really hate is the fact that in South Africa we are forced to use them. When did we decide to do this? When did the referendum happen that said from now on you shall shop in a large fishtank with all the other guppies? Who is the secret force behind these massive zits on the face of humanity? Who is building them? Who has engineered it so we so have nowhere else to go? People went to prison, died, took to the streets to free this country, just for us to herded into suburban death-camps kitted out as “malls”. I know all the rubbish about security but that is codswallop. A shopping mall is no safer than street full of shops. Do you think that guy sleeping at the doorway, getting paid R40 a day, is going to bother saving you when the baddies come through blazing through the place? At least if you get caught in the crossfire of a heinous robbery on the street, you’ll die in the sunshine. A far better way to go than in the artificial lights of the Fourways Crossing Shopping Mall like some sort of human battery-hen. Gasping for your last breath, while all you can taste in your mouth is the cheap odour of candy wafting out of Sweets from Heaven. Your ears filled with the electro-synth sounds of Stars by Simply Red. Your last thought as you fade away: Why, oh why, didn’t I just shop online?
China. There has been a bit of meme over the last year to hail China as the new saviour for the world. But I’m not down with that meme. I’m not down with a country that executed a mentally-ill man yesterday. A country that sabotaged the climate-change summit in Copenhagen. A country that has destroyed our textile industry. A country that doesn’t allow people to use Twitter or Facebook. A country that jailed a man for 11 years for writing a book. I’m not down with a country that wouldn’t allow me to write this list.
Swine flu. It appeared on TV with its alien spikes. Looking all menacing and deadly, it promised to be an epidemic of Hollywood propositions. It was going to be the disease that rid the world of all its swines. I was excited. Finally we would see some justice. The asshats of the world would get their just desserts. And what happened? Nothing. It killed a bunch of innocent kids and left all the swines alive. No one on the list above seems to have even got a sniffle from it. How disappointing.
Well, on that low note, I hand it to you. Give us your shit list. Tell us who left a dirty smell up your nose this year. Really give that toilet bowl of life a good spray down with some righteous verbal toilet-duck.
Peace Y’all …
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