No matter what politicians do or say: I love them. All of them. Their corrupt tomfoolery, and greedy antics, is still the cheapest form of entertainment in town.
Can you imagine a single day without any news about the shenanigans of the likes of Malema, Angie, Zuma, Mac, Naledi, Lulu, Nathi, and the rest of the “roll playas” and “steak houldas” on our political stage? It will be like missing an episode of Days of Our Lives, or 7de Laan. Or swearing at a taxi.
The first time I saw a *trough of real live political animals, was in the summer of ’69. In 1969, just like the words of the Bryan Adams song: “I got my first real six-string guitar (Fender Stratocaster), and played till my fingers bled.” Not that I was all that good with the damn thing, but I made more money out of playing in the band than what I made from my “wages” as an apprentice on the Railways.
But that’s not important right now.
In those days Kimberley was a quiet little town. It had a Big Hole and not much entertainment for young people. Now: you can only stare at a big hole for so long before getting utterly and completely bored – ask any **proctologist if you don’t believe me. So, when it was announced that a BIG political meeting was due to be held at the Kimberley City Hall, I stopped staring at the big hole, and joined the queue.
And what a show it turned out to be!
doddering old fools folks out there might remember that 1969 was the year when the Herstigte Nasionale Party (HNP) was formed. This was to be their first visit to the Big Hole – and they didn’t come to stare at our holes – they wanted voters (we didn’t have voatas in those days).
I remember the night as if it was Woodstock. The front rows were packed with National Party (NP) supporters (we didn’t have “suppotas” in those days). Most of these guys had microphones which were connected to powerful amplifiers – with massive speakers – mounted high against the walls of the Hall.
The HNP leaders (we didn’t have “leedas” in those days) were seated on stage. They only had one of those pissy little tin-can-with-holes-in-it microphones and a small battery powered amplifier – about the size of a matric suitcase – standing forlornly next to their frontman’s ***catheter.
When the show finally started, I thought we were being treated to a recording of whalesong, but then realized that it was feedback coming from the pissy little tin-can-with-holes-in-it microphone.
The HNP lead singer, Dr. Albert Hertzog (PBUH), stepped up to the pissy little tin-can-with-holes-in-it microphone and tried to deliver his political BS song. And that was when all hell broke loose!
I was still at an impressionable age, and, for a fleeting moment, thought that God had started to address the meeting! In a moerova loud voice, straight through the walls!
But then reality kicked in; and I realized it was only the NP supporters in the front rows, who were shouting into their microphones which were connected to powerful amplifiers – with massive speakers – mounted high against the walls of the Hall.
From there on things got a little rough – but in the end a good time was had by all, and I left the gig feeling that I got my money’s worth. Not that it cost anything, you understand? But so to speak, suffices to say, in other words, and all and all.
I’ve seen political parties come and go. I have heard a million lies and promises and plans and strategies made by politicians. I’m never surprised anymore by their duplicity, or fraudulence, or flatulence, or dishonesty. I know how they work.
I used to love going to performances by that all-time master of the classical political stage: ET. I used to enjoy seeing Eugene spitting words and curses and spit and phlegm on those sitting in the front rows at his meetings, in the Pretoria City Hall.
I’ve seen Lekota, Holomisa, Zille, Treurnicht, PW, Pik, Verwoerd, and even little Kortbroek, perform live on stage. And I loved them all!
I’ve never seen Zuma. Then again, I’ve never seen Eric Clapton either. But I love them both.
Now there is a new kid on the block. No, it’s not the Six Million Dollar Man. It’s the R55m Woman. And here is my prediction:
Like the rest of the “pefommas” on the political stage, she will come and go without leaving as much as the whalesong from pissy little tin-can-with-holes-in-it microphone of the HNP, all those years ago – only empty promises and BS and high hopes.
But then: who cares? It’s all for the show – and we, the mindless masses, do enjoy it so!
*trough – collective noun for a group of politicians
**proctologist – anus doctor
***catheter – I know, I know: but “cathedra” sounds so Roman Catholic and these guys were all from the NG Kerk
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