Now here I’m not even talking about your latest attempt at limiting press freedom (Good luck with that, by the way. After all, we do live in a constitutional democracy. You know, the one your forebears fought for? Before the ANC became a bunch of power mongers? You remember!) Anyway, where was I… Oh yes. We’re not talking you press-freedom attempts.

We’re not even talking about the fact that you disbanded the Scorpions (You remember them too, of course. They were the ones who would arrest corrupt politicians… Yeah, them) and replaced them with the (ahem) Hawks.

No, were talking of your latest attempt to use those self-same Hawks to arrest a journalist on political grounds, and the have them keep them (You used to call that Detention Without Trial when the Apartheid Government did that to you guys, remember… Those were the days, eh? You could do whatever you wanted an no-one would even think of querying you..) even though the prosecutor claims they have no case…

Stephen Grootes (who I’m certain is next on the Hawks‘ list of people to arrest-and-detain — I wonder if you guys will torture him?) has written quite a nice analysis of the situation…

Oh, I wonder whose those nice people in uniform outside my door is? More of yours?

Bastards! There. I feel better now.

Now since I’m of the opinion that there had in history only been three worthwhile inventions out of America (the Colt 45 ACP, Air Conditioning and Coca Cola) I don’t really have any reason to go there. Most certainly not for the scenery, since I’m fortunate enough to live in South Africa, the most beautiful country on the face of the planet.

Be that as it may, I will also admit that the American’s apparent attitude to tourists makes the idea of going there more frightening than the idea of streaking through Soweto at eleven o’clock on a Friday night…

Via BoingBoing we have a wonderful example of how the USA chooses to treat tourists, by holding an Icelandic woman shackled in isolation for two days, before deporting her, over a ten-year-old visa mistake…

She has blogged about her experience and, reading it, I feel both vindicated about my stance on the Fourth Reich and quite determined to keep avoiding the place for as long I humanly can.

To any Americans reading this, I’m sorry, but it’s impossible not to have a very negative idea of your country when you have little people with big attitudes and way too much power for their little minds to comprehend treat visitors like this.

But I do feel that you might want to consider coming to visit us here in South Africa; it’s a stunningly beautiful place and we actually like tourists over here…

Update: It seems like Turkey is also off of my list of places to go see…

With some caffeine fuelled enthusiasm I had decided that a shower was my first order of business. Alas, no, the miniscule alcove had not over-night magically assumed more generous proportions, no. Oh well, at least I got to leave it cleaner than I had entered it.

After dressing I wandered down to breakfast. And a surprisingly good one at that as well. The cynic in me immediately started wondering what the catch was… The place had not so far managed to fill me to the brim with confidence in their ability to play nicely.

Playing tourist time: Victoria Falls. Truly majestic. Or probably would have been if there was anything actually falling… Okay, that’s a bit unfair. The parts of the falls where there was falling water to be had (not an unfair expectation of some place proclaiming to be a waterfall I would have though, myself) was maybe excessively waterfall-y. Rather damp and everything. And quite high, at 100m plus… Okay. Effing high. 33 Storeys is a bit higher than I feel like falling down from. I did pick up on one thing though. Apparently I’m not really afraid of heights.

Then it was time to go back to the hotel for a blessedly cold beer. And the news that the airline’s licence had been suspended. We had to buy a new ticket. And we got to spend another day at Vic Falls. At our own expense. Oh. Joy.

Nothing but to do but continue with out event-packed afternoon. The elephant-back safari. Something I, as someone who had been reared on Kipling, had been quite looking forward to. And we were only half-an-hour late, too. An auspicious start indeed. We arrive in time for refreshments: anything from Lemonade, Sprite or Water. Unless you happen to want water, that is. But the tap’s in the loo if you would like to go get some…

Finally we were deemed ready for our great adventure; after we had been convinced to sign the indemnity form. It was at this point which an alarm started sounding in my head. Any venture requiring new clothes or indemnity forms are suspect by definition, in my opinion.

The real trouble started when one of the smallest elephants were brought closer and I was entreated to mount the bastard thing. All was fine till the denizen from the lowest of the hells started moving and the saddle started slipping to the side. “Now this,” I thought to myself, “is simply not going to end well.” Which I then promptly proved by valiantly holding on to the reigns which in turn was quite sturdily fastened to the saddle; which in turn decided that there was no way in hell that I would be staying on that damned elephant; it quite gracefully turned on the barrel of said elephant.

Themba and I, yes the very same Themba, now both got dumped, quite ungracefully and very damned hard, on the ground. From there we got to experience quite a unique view of elephants. An encounter I would have preferred to forgo and would really not recommend.

An earnest attempt now got made, after we had been patched up somewhat and the saddle had been actually cinched, to convince me to re-mount the elephant. Now I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but stupid ain’t really one of them. There was no way, on this green earth, that I was getting back on that damned elephant!

Limping, I made my way to the cooler box, and promptly did my utmost (with eventual success due to Themba’s kind assistance and thorough command of Zulu) to convince one of the rangers that we truly deserved a couple of cold beers.

Nursing a cold beer, a bruised body and my equally bruised ego we find that one of the rangers left to “baby-sit” us is the chief lion trainer for the safari-outfit. Apparently they become unmanageable at two years of age, so the oldest ones he had were all seventeen months old. If you had never seen a seventeen-month-old lion from close up, take my word on this: that’s one big pussy-cat!

Eventually supper-time arrives and I frantically try and find a reason to skip going to “The Boma”. I wasn’t at all too certain that I would survive whatever was in store for us now… In a way what we run into at supper was both better and worse than I had feared… The food was edible. The entertainment was fairly decent. But the “interactive drum experience” (just known as “drumming” to us ignorant South Africans) was a total wash. Well, for me at least. I was sitting at the table in too much pain to go fetch some ice-cream and some over-enthusiastic personification of evil (damn those extroverts!) expected me to be all eager and enthusiastic at the prospect of energetically beating a drum? I was so sore, I couldn’t even lift my beer to my mouth!

Later, with the pain mostly under control due to some decent painkillers (as opposed to my faculties, for much the same reason) I eventually stumbled off to bed; dog-tired and hoping like hell that I would I fall asleep before the painkillers wore off. In fact, I was also so doped up that Themba could have snored all he wanted, he could have started a fire-fight in the room for all I cared, that night I was going to sleep, damn it!

There were some upsides to all of that, fortunately. The day had been so “eventful” that I had little time to reflect on anything. I had been so busy wondering what new “adventure” awaited us, that there had been no time to think about “home”.

It was bad enough when the Airline grounded all flights. Fortunately another Airline decided to honour the tickets. Sort of. After giving us a decent run-around for an hour, we’re informed that, instead of flying into Livingston in Zambia as we were going to, we would now be flying into Vic Falls in Zimbabwe. Ah well, close enough, I suppose. It then got a whole lot worse when the person organising the flight, the one with the transfer vouchers, with the paperwork, the money to pay for the hotel, managed to miss it… Not his fault really, since he would have had ample time to do all he needed had the Airline not decided to lose an engine a while ago, but still; it worried.

Here on the other side another, new, comedy awaited us though. Somewhere, somehow, one of the bags got lost. All got checked in together, and all, but that one, had made it. One managed to “get lost”. But of course it would… It was on Friday. Bag number X000013. It was doomed from the start…

Thistry we wandered to one of the shops. Paying a mil-and-a-half for anything freaks me out just a tad. Maybe a house is still okay, but a bloody ice-cream? Well, to be fair, that translates to just over R333 at the official exchange rate. For a bloody ice-cream? Now, I’ll readily grant that I haven’t bought any ice-cream in a while, but I would have considered R15 to be a tad expensive but understandable: I mean it is an Airport after all. But that’s no excuse for more than a 2222% premium, is it?

We finally got to the hotel, not at all certain of our welcome, since the person who had organised it all is the only one not available to explain to them that it all had, indeed, been organised. Thus it’s just another place, with another adventure awaiting us on this day from the nether realms. I get to share a room with Themba. Themba is okay. I like the dude, I really do. But not enough to share a bed with him okay?

Paying for beer at the local pub proved to be another adventure in itself. One pays in rands for prices quoted in Zim dollars to then get US dollars in change. Most unfortunately they don’t accept coins, ever so sorry. A nice little racket, of course, since it means that everything gets calculated in multiples of R6.77. And then rounded up. As I said, a nice little racket indeed.

Finally it was time for our first “activity”. A sunset cruise. Now it was time to experience the wilds of Africa with man in his natural habitat. On the deck of a barge with a cold beer in his hand. And I certainly experienced lots… Hippos. Crocodiles. Bottom of my beer glass. To be honest I saw way too many of the last for personal comfort; I got too close to the grim reality of it, if you will.

End of the day arrived, and we promptly moved on to Supper-time at “The Makuwa-Kuwa”. Which is great; that is, unless you feel at all uncomfortable at the idea of paying $25 US for a fairly common South African Cabernet. R100 I would’ve been able to justify to myself, but paying nearly R200 for a R50 bottle of wine was a lot, if you’ll excuse the pun, harder to swallow. Being forced to be honest, though, I would admit to the food being very, very, good. Deciding to simply avoid the wine, I’m starting to feel a bit better about this venture. Until, that is…

I went off to bed quite looking forward to a well-earned night’s rest after quite an eventful day. Fortunately it had taken only a modicum of brute force to separate the beds so I wouldn’t find myself sleeping close enough to Themba so that I would end up feeling obliged to make him an offer of marriage. Unfortunately, though, it soon became evident that Themba snores for the First Team.

Great. Just effing great…

Meh… Idiots all over.

It took long enough, very nearly two years in fact, but finally the guilty have been brought to book.

Now I am a cynic and frequently expect the very worst from humankind. A stance far too often reinforced by the actions huimanity as well. But some days, quite seldom unfortunately, a faint glimmer of hope appears for the species.

Don’t worry, it won’t last… Mankind will do something for me to lose faith in them before the day is over. But for now, for a brief moment…

Too many institutions use bullying tactics — manipulating people into paying various superfluous or even illegal fees — figuring (quite correctly it would seem) that most people would not be able to afford either the time or the money to take legal or other action and would rather just pay said fees to make it all “just go away”.

Two distinct groups with this tactic immediately comes to mind: the Mafia and SABC TV Licenses….

I mean, really!

FROM THE DESK OF THE PROMOTIONS LOTTERY MANAGER,
PROTEA WINNERS ORGANIZATION LOTTERY SOUTH AFRICA,
13,LAKE VIEW DRIVE,AUCKLAND PARK
P.O.BOX 296, AUCKLAND PARK,
JOHANNESBURY,
SOUTH AFRICA.

Your kind Attention:

FINAL NOTICE OF AWARD NOTIFICATION

We are pleased to inform you of the announcement today the 4th of September 2006,of winners of the PROTEA WINNERS ORGANIZATION LOTTERY, held on 12th August 2006 as part of our promotional draws. Participants were selected through a computer ballot system drawn from 2,500,000 email addresses of individuals and companies from Africa, America, Asia, Australia,Canada,Europe, Middle East,and New Zealand as part of our electronic business Promotions lottery Program. You qualified for the draw as a result of you visiting Various websites we are running the e-business promotions lottery for.

You/Your Company, attached to ticket number 139-3201-6409,with serial number 570-10 drew the lucky numbers 1,8,14,20,31,46,72,and consequently won in the Second Category.

You have therefore been approved for a lump sum pay out of US$3,000,000.00 in cash,which is the winning payout for Second category winners.This is from the total prize money of S$21,000,000.00 shared among the Seven international winners in the Second category.

CONGRATULATIONS!

Your fund is now deposited with the Maco Finance and Security Company insured in your name. Due to the mix up of some numbers and names, we award strictly from public notice until your claim has been processed and your money remitted to your account.

This is part of our security protocol to avoid double claiming or unscrupulous acts by participants of this program. We hope with a part of your prize, you will participate in our up coming mid year (2007) high stakes US$1.3 billion International Lottery. To begin your claim, please contact your claim agent immediately:

DR EVANS DINGA
FOREIGN SERVICE MANAGER,
TEL: 00-27-73-093-9070
EMAIL: evans_dinga@hotmail.com

Kindly contact your claims officer and provide him with the following informations,

1. The Refrence Number:
2. The Batch Number:
3. The Ticket Number:
4. The serial Number:
5. The lucky Number:

FULL NAMES:
MAILING ADDRESS:
SEX:
AGE/DATE OF BIRTH:
MARITAL STATUS:
OCCUPATION:
TEL/FAX NUMBER:
AMOUNT WON:
STATE/COUNTRY:
COMPANY NAME:

If you do not contact your claims agent within 14 working days of this notification, your winning prize money would be revoked.

NOTE: In order to avoid unnecessary delays and complications, please remember to quote your reference and batch numbers. Winners are advised to keep their winning details/ information from the public to avoid fraudulent claims. (IMPORTANT) pending the transfer/claim

REFERENCE NUMBER: KFQ-XV69-013b-9
BATCH NUMBER: 57-488-BBN

Congratulations once again from all our staff and thank you promotions program.

Sincerely,
MRS STEPHANIE NKOSI.
Lottery Co-ordinator

PROTEA WINNERS ORGANIZATION LOTTERY SOUTH AFRICA

Here are a couple of clues, idiots:

1. It’s Johannesburg, not Johannesbury,
2. The National Lottery in South Africa is managed by “Uthingo Management (Pty) Ltd“
3. All potential notifications will come from “nationallottery.co.za” addresses (most certainly not from “hotmail.com”
4. These guys are quite professional, and it is unlikely they will ask for “the following informations“…
5. Contact numbers for the National Lottery are widely available
6. Now bugger off and go bother some Yankees…

According to a report on IOL ANC councillor Thandi Tobias, the chairperson of the National Assembly’s defence committee, considers South Africans serving in foreign armies ‘unpatriotic’.

Not that they care that most South Africans serving in foreign armies do so because they are “white South Africans who cannot work in South Africa due to affirmative action and representativity in the civil service.”

From the report:

During the Assembly debate, DA MP Roy Jankielsohn described the bill as sloppy and constitutionally flawed.

He argued that white soldiers were forced out of the South African National Defence Force and stopped from joining the reserve force.

“In this regard the legislation is malicious and punitive in nature. White South Africans want to contribute to our country, but the ANC is obsessed with having the power to criminalise this contribution,” he said.

Jankielsohn was also referring to South Africans employed as “security guards” in areas of conflict like Iraq that is said to contribute at least R6-billion in spending power back home.

In other words: “We don’t want you to work in South Africa. In actual fact, we don’t want you to work outside South Africa either. What we want you to do is just go away.”

To which the reply probably has to be: “We South Africans don’t just ‘go away’. We didn’t when Brits did their damnedest to exterminate us. We didn’t during the urban terror campaign in the eighties. We’re not going to do so now. Terribly sorry, but no.”

If I have to be “unpatriotic” to make a living and take care of my family, then “patriotism” be damned.

Could be thought to be, that is, if the artist hadn’t left a series of images on deviantART from various stages in the making of the image.

If that doesn’t impress you I don’t think much ever will. I find that sad. But for myself I am extremely glad that I can still find in me that sense of wonder… Or, more accurately I suppose, that sense of How the hell…

Equally engrossing is how a democratically elected president of a First-world country, arguable the country with the best communication and transport infrastructure in the world can take nearly a week to respond in earnest to a calamity that’s devastated one of his nations great cities.

Very few people outside of America really like the Americans, but some things are not wished upon even your worst enemy, let alone people you merely feel ambivalent about.

That being said, it is another American president’s administration– Theodore Roosevelt’s, 99 and a half years earlier — that gives one of the best examples in modern history yet of how a calamity like this should be handled.

On 18 April 1906 the San Francisco great earthquake struck at 5h13. By 7h00 the first troops reported to the Mayor of the city; by 8h00 they were patrolling the streets.

By 10h30 on the same day, the USS Preble had already landed a medical team and had set up an emergency hospital.

Within two days, the USS Chicago had reached San Francisco, where it evacuated 20,000 refugees.

Now please compare that to how the current president of America handled New Orleans. 100 years later and incomprehensibly more advanced with infinitely better infrastructure.

America needs another statesman, and they need to get rid of the politicians running the show at present.

And, Thabo, if ever something like this had to happen in South Africa, I will expect considerably more from you than your American counterpart managed to achieve…

At the same time they seem to be giving up their rights at a rate that would make their founding fathers spin in their respective graves…

Here is a prime example of that behaviour.

Now instead of having civilian thugs running the show, we have military thugs ruling the roost. Well done, guys!

Let’s see if I have it right then. Your bill of rights should now read something like this:

1. Freedom of speech, press, religion, peaceable assembly, and to petition the government.
2. Right to keep and bear arms. New Loss
3. Protection from quartering of troops.
4. Protection from unreasonable search and seizure.
5. Due process, double jeopardy, self-incrimination, private property.
6. Trial by jury and other rights of the accused.
7. Civil trial by jury.
8. Prohibition of excessive bail, as well as cruel or unusual punishment.
9. The Bill of Rights does not take away any right already held by the people under the Constitution.
10. Grants residual power to the states and to the people.

I got these from WikiPedia, and this would admittedly be a nice Bill of Rights to live under, but the Yanks have systematically been giving these away at an astonishing rate, apparently in the very mistaken belief that politicians and big business will protect them. Unfortunately the people they really need protecting from the most (besides themselves, of course) are the very politicians they are giving their rights to…

In case any Yank reading this feels like arguing any of these points, go read what these rights supposedly give you. And then you ask yourself if you actually still have this right. Do the poor bastards in Guantanamo bay? The people in the concentration holding camps in Houston and elsewhere?

Honestly?

It’s a hell of a thing, liberty. It’s the one thing in the world which, once given up, will never be freely handed back to the people by those in power. I’m a South African, so you may take my word for that…

You want to tell me the damned Yanks haven’t realised that the politicians want nothing more but absolute control? Nice thing living in a Third-world country: You know not to trust politicians further than you could chuck them.

“Land of the Free and Home of the Brave”?

Erm… I think I prefer it right here at the Southern tip of Africa, thanks….

Update:

Rebecca Solnit at Harper’s Magazine wrote The Uses of Disaster, an essay on the relationship between disasters, authority, and our understanding of human nature…

Someone, please tell me that I’ve assumed malice where there was nothing but human stupidity!

Sometimes I feel quite unwelcome in my own country.

If this is not enough to make you foam at the mouth at TBCB© (That Bunch of Corrupt Bastards) we laughingly refer to as our government, then I sincerely doubt that anything in life ever truly will.

In my opinion, it is quite bad enough when Bobby builds palaces on his country’s GDP. I find that I cannot abide the notion that my (South African) Tax money will fund an extension or the pool at the damn Jacuzzi or something!

Only a South African politician would be naive enough to believe that our favourite despot would actually use monies lent him to help his people.

Mind you, on second thought, it might be worth him taking the money and “Idi Amin” us; letting the Southern tip of this continent just getting back to pulling itself together.

On third thought, maybe he can take the ANC with him, $1 000 000 000 is enough to pay for quite a couple of extra plane tickets…

Come now guys, why the surprise at this? The ANC might have been representative of the people in its heyday, but currently it is nothing but yet another corrupt African ruling party on the lookout for number one.

One has to be rather naive to even consider that notion that the voting public means anything to them but a means to a political office…

Now, no need to be upset about that, it’s the African way — the way African politics had been run since the first despot heard about democracy and thought that this was a wonderful bribe at making, with apologies to Thornton Wilder, the housekeeper think she’s a householder.

Here is what I see happening:

1. Prez Thabo retires.
2. Jacob “I’m a corrupt sumbitch” Zuma gets sprung from Jail
3. Intimidation/Corruption leads to Prez Jacob
4. Economy takes a dive
5. Jacob takes advice from Bobby and changes the constitution
6. Jacob declares himself Prez-for-life
7. The ANC rejoices
8. The economy gives up hope and dies
9. Everyone goes looking for jobs in Zim, since their despot is less nuts than ours…

Remember, you read it here first.

It’s a agonisingly repulsive story, with many an attempted corruption of Justice, with the victim being hounded as if she was the perpetrator of the crime, which more-and-more seems like an attempt to cover up the sodomising of her brother more than any other purported reason.

It is with this in mind, then, that I read this story of another case with a dreadfully similar feel. From the article:

Human rights group say hundreds of women are raped or killed every year in so-called “honour” attacks.

Honour? Do these cretins actually know what honour means? And, just in case any of them ever read this, here is a clue: It is not abusing those weaker than yourself!

I wouldn’t have thought that such a difficult concept, but here’s dictionary.com’s definition:

honour

n 1: the state of being honored [syn: honor, laurels] [ant: dishonor]

2: a tangible symbol signifying approval or distinction; “an award for bravery” [syn: award, accolade, honor, laurels]

3: the quality of being honorable and having a good name; “a man of honor” [syn: honor] [ant: dishonor]

4: a woman’s virtue or chastity [syn: honor, purity]

v 1: bestow honor or rewards upon; “Today we honor our soldiers”; “The scout was rewarded for courageus action” [syn: honor, reward] [ant: dishonor]

2: show respect towards; “honor your parents!” [syn: respect, honor, abide by, observe] [ant: disrespect]

3: accept as pay; “we honor checks and drafts” [syn: honor] [ant: dishonor]

Nope, sorry. Didn’t see anything about gang-rapes in there… Quite the opposite in fact.

Telling proof that not all males are men…

The cause to this observation is that the genius that runs the country to our north, Bobby Mugabe, has denounced as “just nonsense” the contention that thousands of people had been left homeless after operation “Get rid of trash”…

Now I, for one, will admit to not being too certain what else one should call it when someone demolishes one’s home from under one; since one is apparently not homeless then.

Referring to the people being left homeless, Bobby had to say, “Where are they? We don’t know about those.”

Well, Bobby, I suppose that is just fair. You probably don’t get to see too many homeless from the balcony of your 74 000 000 rand mansion, do you?

What in hell am I going on about? Well, these beautiful pictures, if you would really like to know: showing exactly what that nut-case who “runs” the country just across one of our northern borders had actually been up to…

Yep, Bobby “F*ck the Poor” Mugabe. Hero of the revolution, who has the poor’s best interests at heart…

And to add insult to the poor buggers “cleant up” in operation “Get rid of trash” — if it was, why the hell is ZANU-PF still running the country? — The AU feels very sorry-’n-all, but it’s an internal Zimbabwean matter after all, so the AU won’t interfere…

Anyone care to explain why the hell we have an African Union at all then? Seems like a wee bit of a toothless mongrel if you ask me…

It is Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, who happens to be mostly clean and free from corruption, as long as nobody mentions the Oilgate saga.

Oops. sorry about that… At least this one seems to have a higher price than the previous one; which I, for one, appreciate.

There are upsides to it as well, of course. I would not be at all surprised to hear that this was the highest position achieved by a woman in a free democracy on the African continent. With some luck, our next president will be a woman. I’m quite supportive of that: so far we men have had a rather torrid track record running counties in Africa.

Not that the last woman in charge in South Africa did all that sterling a job, mind you, it’s just that we men have done well worse…

I must admit I am glad the Prez chose not to let Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma try and finish the job on the citizens she had started as Minister of Health. We’re in enough of a fix in South Africa, without needing that as well… To be fair, though, she’s doing okay as Foreign Affairs minister.

But, what does it all mean though, in real people’s lives? In my opinion, not a hell of a lot. After all has been said and done, they’re all still politicians, and I’m with Billy Connelly on this: “A desire to enter politics should bar one from it for life…”

This is the reason I differentiate between men and males. My manifesto contains a mere five points. How does anyone manage to break all five of them in a single action?

I’m not surprised to learn that the cur had a criminal record…

There was a time in the history of Europe, where religious fanatics from the Catholic Church was the scourge of the populace, hunting down accused — and anyone else they could beat into admitting to being — witches.

Fortunately, we no longer live in the dark ages, religious persecution is frowned upon and no one needs to fear for their lives merely for not agreeing with doctrine or dogma.

It would appear, though, that someone neglected informing this contemptible dastard!

Update

• Okay it’s official. This guy is an absolute nutter…
• Monk, nuns charged with aggravated murder – At least they hadn’t ignored it, the way it seemed to be heading…

I must admit, that I am mean spirited enough to derive the utmost satisfaction from that fact. And I will also admit that I hope the same happens to others of the corrupt persuasion.

Hats off to Patricia for having initiated the Arms Probe through sheer dogged perseverance, keep up the great work. Tony, get your crowd up off of their collective arses and get to work following Patricia’s example of keeping the maniacs running this county in check.

As to the title:

glee (n)

1. great merriment, joy

joy (n)

1. Intense and especially ecstatic or exultant happiness.
2. The expression or manifestation of such feeling.

Joyful tidings, indeed. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving fellow…

Update

We have a winning case against Zuma, says NPA

A premise:

You have some of the most dangerous criminals in the world nicely incarcerated for life, since as a country you have abolished the death penalty. Society is safe from them, the citizens can sleep at night, safe from harm.

What would one do, in that case?

Quite simple, actually. One would apparently “lose” the relevant documentation that keeps them safely locked away…

From the article:

Umesh Raga of the Judicial Inspectorate of Prisons Legal Services unit, this week said, “Prima facie, in the absence of that evidence, it appears that those prisoners may have to be acquitted.”

This was confirmed by Judge Hannes Fagan, head of the Judicial Inspectorate of Prisons, who said, “If the records cannot be found, the state will then have to try to reconstitute the record.

But if that is not possible, the prisoner might well be entitled to be released.”

Well done, arseholes!

Please note, I’m not blaming the judicial system at all: If evidence cannot be found it is just that the prisoner be released. And it is certainly not the prisoner’s duty to supply the government with evidence to keep him locked up either.

I am, however, blaming the executive branch of government. They are supposed to be on top of this type of thing. Be aware, as little as you bastards probably care, that I, for one, will blame each and every transgression by the released criminals squarely on you.

I spit on thee, scurvy knave!

Apparently two youths of great wisdom decided to film a fan-flick based on Star Wars.

Not all that unusual in this day-and-age, but to add the well-known and quite distinctive light-saber effects, they decided to fill fluorescent tubes with petrol and then light it. Said light-sabers — most obviously — promptly exploded. Something I’m fairly certain a well-designed light-saber should never do.

Must have made a hell of a scene, though. Hope somebody remembered to keep the film going. The show must go on, and all that, old chap.

Damn fools. Apparently never heard of Industrial Light & Magic, the people who create the “Special Effects” (aka. Not petrol in tubes) after the filming of the movies are done.

And then the Yanks say that Darwin’s theories were were bunk?

Hello, people. Wake up: this is Evolution in action…

Once in my dimly remembered youth (i.e. more than a week ago) I was a member of the South African Defense Force on the border of Namibia and Angola, whom we as a country were at war with at that point.

Of my memories of that period, one remains with me with a special vividness. We guys were playing rugby in the river with some of the PB (“Plaaslike Bevolking” – Local population) lads — something we did fairly frequently. We were having quite a good game, soldiers versus the local civilians. Let me tell you, once they get to grips with the concept of the game they play a hell of a game of rugby!

Things were going quite well, we were winning, as was our wont — we’d been playing rugby for years and they had only recently learned the game, after all — when all of a sudden all of the PB lads ran for the bushes.

We were still looking around non-plussed when we noticed that the police had arrived — in force, as usual. Since we had no idea where the lads had disappeared off to and since we had no philosophical or other quandaries with handing them bloody noses for spoiling a good game, they didn’t linger.

To understand the situation you have to know that the police normally sent some of the worst of their people to guard the border region and, we have been told, Police brutality was rife.

It is a sad thing, for a soldier especially, when you realise that you — whose job it is to potentially get violent with these people — are trusted far more than the police — who are supposed to actually protect the people.

Okay, so what has brought all of this back, you may ask. Well, the BBC has a story of firefighters being ambushed while merely trying to do their work, keeping people property safe and protecting other property and people from fire.

What makes the story particularly sick is that people were taking photos of the attack on the firemen with their cell-phones. An act of “Recreational Violence”…

As you may see from my ‘blog, I’ve suggested a potential solution to that problem, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. But removing my tongue from my cheek I need to state most emphatically that this is not the action one would expect from a “First World” country.

It is starting to appear to me more and more that the major differences between first and third world countries is this:

1. The “First World” is way more arrogant and,
2. The third world is more civil…

Whether you happen to agree with me or not is, of course, your prerogative.

But let me add that, in my opinion at least, the only difference between these thugs in Belfast and the police on the Angolan border is this: the police wore uniforms.

Well, after shooting off my huge mouth — repeatedly — at the current perceived state of degeneracy in the British youth, I had to come across the following in Jo’blog:

In Middelburg Mpumalanga (I have to assume it’s the one in Mpumalanga and not the one in Eastern Cape since the town of Hendrina also gets a mention) police finally managed to arrest a half-naked teen after a 35 minute wild chase through the town, during which time the boy tried to ram the police off the road multiple times in his mother’s car.

Not only was the little delinquent drunk and driving without license, but the whole episode started when the police saw the car zig-zagging and on closer inspection found the 17 year old in “a compromising position” with his 14 year old girlfriend.

It is at time I read stuff like this that I honestly think that maybe it’s time we had national service reinstated as well. It would give idiots like this something to occupy their thoughts before and themselves during the time they served their country; afterward military discipline normally keeps them in at least nominal check for some time.

Of course, the mere fact that this forces me to eat crow, something I acutely dislike, and to the Pommies, something I dislike much more, does not actually make me feel any great charity towards his current plight.

Maybe mother nature should just call it quits on us and let some other animal to have a go at being the dominant species…

However, a little article in BBC News does go quite some way to explaining some of my feelings from a previous post. From it:

“Carol McMillan, 34, of Spey Walk, Holytown, Lanarkshire, admitted the culpable homicide of Ann Whittle on 15 August last year.

The pair clashed over a space at a car boot sale at Blochairn Road, Glasgow. McMillan repeatedly kicked Mrs Whittle, who later died in hospital.”

Come on, you have to be kidding me! Over a parking spot? And this is supposed to be “First World” and “Civilized”? Give me a break, sounds to me more like anarchy in action.

I think I’ll just stay in Africa where I’m safe, thank you very much…

In case you’re not aware, I’m a South African; and, like many of my contemporaries, I have always viewed Europe with a certain feeling of vague bemusement. My forebears might have moved to Africa to flee the religious persecution in France, but we’ve been in Africa for so long we are culturally more closely aligned with African than European values.

Now I’m not quite certain how normal this might seem to the British, but one of the things I’ve picked is the appearance of a country in moral decline; where the people are so obsessed with trivialities that reality had better dare not intrude.

The most recent indication of this had been the stories of youths stoning the Fire Brigade.

Today, however, Boing Boing has an entry referring to a — so called — “Happy Slapping” UK-based phenomenon where, to quote from their source TheFeature, “kids [are] attacking not just their friends, but complete strangers minding their own business”.

Without putting to fine a point on it, if some little punk tried to do that to me, he’ll wake up in a hospital sans front teeth. Not everybody can make good on a warning like that, though, but why the hell should one have to anyways?

Now down here we tend to focus on real issues like HIV and the AIDS pandemic somewhat more often — except, of course when our President insist that HIV does not cause AIDS — which means kids have a lot less time for crap like that.

That actually brings me to my perception at to the root of the problem: the little jerks have too much time on their hands. To put it civilly, they are bored. To distraction. In earlier generations the problem would have been somewhat easier to solve: Ship the little bastards off to the colonies. Unfortunately, however, the colonies no longer wants them. You get to keep them.

The alternative solution to the problem had always been, and having identified the problem, is what I would now suggest: Start a war. Sort of like the one you had in Iraq, but this time do it with feeling. Go talk to your buddies in America if you’re uncertain of which war to start, you wouldn’t want to aggravate them in this, else they’ll attack you.

Which wouldn’t normally be a problem with all the spoilt louts you have lazing around and could thus throw into the defense effort, but those will be away having been shipped off to the front. Pay attention, dammit, that was the whole point of this exercise.

Or maybe you guys can have a word with the Americans, and you can each go send your idle youth to fight each other some place. I volunteer the Sahara: nothing else happening there anyways.

Just don’t involve the locals. They might get pissed off and retaliate; I don’t think your louts will be able to handle that.