By Peter Wilhelm
My response to the assassination of Cecil the Lion is predictably trite. The great animals that are our final link to the natural world is that they deserve massive protection against us, armed as we are with city-destroying weapons. Even that mass killer of wildlife Ernest Hemingway respected his victims and considered it cowardly to hunt with vehicles rather than on the ground.
(Of course he did shoot them, exterminating what looks like entire species.)
So what might be called human rights should be accorded to them – and grotesque trophy-hunters, when and if charged, should face murder raps.
That said, while the huge viral response to the dentist’s crime is justified, ordinary human victims of wretchedness are right to plead for sympathy. It’s also notable that outside our own flesh-consuming nation few Netizens actually know where or what Zimbabwe is. We have an idea because so many Zimbabweans actually live here – 6 million, 10 million? Who knows?
These folk are not essentially here because they want our jobs, “our” women, or our precious bodily fluids. They crawl through razor-wire to escape the dark dominion of Robert Mugabe and his weird, diamond-loving wife, PhD.
Even here I wonder how many know exactly where Uganda is. Furthermore, whatever Uganda may be up to, image being everything, I recall that some decades ago the foreign minister of that country was caught having sexual intercourse with someone in the loo at Paris’s Charles de Gaulle Airport.
The British satirical magazine Private Eye seized on this bizarre fact and the lame excuse that the offending couple were discussing “Ugandan Foreign Affairs”. As a resonant comment on others caught up in erotic misadventures, the magazine coined the phrase “Discussing Ugandan Affairs” or “Ugandan Matters” in effectively slut-shaming the country.
Indeed, the late journalist Auberon Waugh (unfortunate son of Evelyn the novelist) wondered aloud whether, should you take your wife to Uganda, you would be charged corkage.
Alas, the same question could now apply to Britain, where, I discover, fewer than half the population (married or otherwise) is content with its love life. An image is swiftly arising of a kingdom assailed by perverts, paedophiles, establishment cover-ups, moronic leadership, and complicity with American war crimes against civilians in regions controlled by war criminals.
This could just be because Western-orientated communities (into which I was born) are still resistant to constitutional rights for the LGBTI movement (I’m certain that Cape Town dwellers, at least, don’t need further explanations of those letters). Worse, still compelled to pursue a subterranean lifestyle are vampires. There is no collective LGBTIV agitation.
Real-life vampires (of whom I have no personal experience) are perfectly normal people who merely have the desire to drink human blood once a week or so. They have not come out in any great numbers, nor evolved their own programme or spokesvamps, but have been studied in a few US cities.
It seems that real-life vampires do not roam foul city streets like Dracula, sucking on their lily-white virgins, but actually use the dark net to set up assignations with willing donors – and that the transfer of haemoglobin is in homeopathic dosages, and is not really an extension of the BDSM (that’s bondage-masochism) culture.
A few shrinks have tried to get it classified as a disorder, such as compulsive over-eating to the point that you have to be ferried to an ICU (all these acronyms!) by sturdy bearers and cranes. Or arachnophilia. However, vampires can claim an ancient lineage and resent being considered abnormal.
It is of course contagious among teens. When offspring turn thirteen they lock themselves in their room (the ones with Death Metal stars such as the band members of Morbid Angel, Hail of Bullets, and Pestilence) and radiate an eerie silence for some years. Or they identify with the spooky shufflers of “The Walking Dead” series.
Never mind. Once their hormones subside they will be just like you – accountants, second-hand car receptionists, pedlars of pyramid schemes, and so forth. Whew!
Then, again just like you, they might pay their taxes. Frankly, this is no different than willingly succumbing to a vampire’s pointy teeth. The money wrenched out of your pocket will not go towards creating a universal welfare state, or lead to the withering away of capitalism, or protect the leopards at Rhodes Memorial. Such socialist ideals are delusional.
Instead you will find yourself funding Jacob Zuma and his partners in crime, allowing the roads, railways, and the stuttering wing-flapping national airline to decay into the hideous grubble that underpins a society firmly set on a path to extinction.
Anyway, no-one will have to pay corkage to enter Britain. At the current exchange rate of 20+ rands to the pound, you may just afford a pack of Maltesers before declaring bankruptcy. Suck the sweeties and dream of modern dentistry.