We are being spat upon contemptuously as our venerable institutions built upon the restless souls of tortured activists are drawn and quartered, limbs torn savagely from their sockets, eyes gouged out and trampled spitefully under Louboutin-shod heels. We are being boiled slowly into a soupy swamp of impuissance by a cabal of expedient hijackers adorned in the colours of a once proud and noble flag-bearer of hope.
This is the State of our Nation, and the pace at which it is happening has caught even the most cynical observer off guard. What’s emerged in the last year alone about the nefarious proclivities of our president and his toadies is enough to dislodge a tear from Sauron’s Eye. To the most cynical, gnarled and battle hardened of hacks it’s been hallucinatory. Since 2007 Jacob Zuma has corralled a cavalry of low-browed bloodthirsty orcs, connivingly trammelled once principled leaders into incapacitating webs of deceit and masterfully crushed tongue, lung and resolve out of any who stood in defiance.
Pink Floyd: “Us & Them”
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No institutions or the individuals who populate them remain inviolate, few intact. The Mephistophelian assault on the Treasury, the Cullinan diamond in the crown jewels, is so nakedly transparent as to be readily observable from Neptune’s fourteenth moon by a drunkard blind in one eye and unsighted in the other. Such is the bodacious insolence forged from cock-sure ascending dominance that nobody bothers any longer with feigning demureness. The officious arrogance bristles and crackles, radiating in throbbing pulses from every government pore, empowering waves of orcs with the assurance of an exalted taste of everlasting victory.
Pravin Gordhan is a farmed turkey awaiting an undiarised Thanksgiving. Forty years of selfless service to a greater cause has bequeathed him a ringside seat at his own crucifixion. Damocles stalks him like a deranged shadow, covetously anticipating the opportunity to snip that singular strand of horse’s hair and usher in the tyrant’s sycophant.
This will herald a stampede of capital outflows, an immediate ratings downgrade to junk, a currency in free fall and the crumpling of marginal industries. The ranks of unemployed will tumesce like a tremendous septic boil, leaching pernicious poison into the system already decaying under relentless waves of corrosive assault.
SAA will be gifted yet another bailout, gloated over by their odious chairperson, the one who recently stated the airline would continue operating without guarantees because its “aircraft are always full”. If ever you wanted a choice example of wilfully ignorant boorish impudence born of officious arrogance, there it is, gift-wrapped in tarnished tinsel.
Pink Floyd: Speak to me/Breathe