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Loads of Absolute Balls: The privilege of the Plebs

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Ian von Memerty is a Zimbabwean-born South African entertainer, actor, singer, musician, writer, director and television presenter.

I confess to feeling depressed, doubtful and dented. But I suppose that is only natural, when our futures are no more than ping-pong balls that are smashed between the political players of our country. I want to leave the powerless land of the plebs for the land of “absolutely!”

Should a student with academic qualifications and no money have the right to an education? Absolutely.

Should the government have pulled its finger out of its constipated fundament and arranged that any qualifying student gets an interest-free loan? Absolutely.

Should the police be trained and supported and able to control protesters, protect national assets, and arrest anyone who breaks the law? Goddamn it! Yes!

I am still a performer (albeit an endangered species of performer being a white, male over 50) and have been a TV personality on and off for two decades. So I feel that I must ask: Should Hlaudi Motsoeneng be taken to the nearest psychiatric facility and put on a drip of mind-altering drugs which might return him to a form of reality? Absolutely.

Should he have to return every obscenely undeserved salary and bonus he has received from Faith Muthambi and her merry board of thieves? Absolutely.

Should Jacob Zuma be forced to immediately repay every single legal fee that he has incurred for each time-wasting two-step that his lawyers have indulged in to ensure that he won’t go to court? Absolutely.

Do I want Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu to live forever? Absolutely.

Has my respect for him risen even further for raising the topic that the most fundamental choice in life, the right to die, is a right? Hell yes – Absolutely.

Do I want Thuli Madonsela back and to somehow raise her voice above that magnificently restrained whisper and yell “Oops! The State Capture Report slipped out. I don’t know how that happened. Feel free to Fire me”? Absolutely.

Do I want the self-serving (and I use that phrase in all its senses) idiots negotiating a nuclear deal to have a rod of uranium rammed u-know-where? Absolutely?

Do I think that they should each be tied to a wind turbine and made to listen to the falling cost of clean energy which already provides this country with 16% of its energy needs? Absolutely!

Do I want to bug Pravin Ghordan’s office and release his private thoughts on the A (Abrahams) to Z (Zuma) of our country, while searching for the G Spot (Gupta) in the orgy of corruption of our country? Absolutely!

And should the government be given a crash course in history and the underlying cause of every revolution and the fall of every empire? Absolutely!

So here is the precis of the crash course – the emphasis being on crash. A spot of education for free!

Throughout history the greatest revolutionary of all is a faceless, nameless mass – and it’s name is Hunger.

Hunger for food! Just go to the Unaffordable Spaza or the Spar! The people are hungry.

Hunger for education. Go to our universities, or even worse, our primary schools, the secondary schools – our young are hungry.

Hunger for justice – a poor (black) person gets 12 years for stealing a cellphone while a rich (white) one gets six years for murder.

How hungry for justice is the remand prisoner held in disgusting conditions for six years waiting for his day in court while the president spends tens of millions of our tax money to stay out of court?

How hungry are the widows and orphans of Marikana – they are starving for justice.

Hunger for hope – R25-billion every year is given to State-Owned Enterprises and are flushed down the sewers of incompetence, corruption and nepotism.

Hunger for safety. How hungry are the women of South Africa for safety in their country? Safe from being raped? Safe from men impregnating them and then disappearing without contributing in any way to child support? Safe in the knowledge that their children will be properly treated in our hospitals?

So to those currently feasting round the table like the beadle (Mr Bumble) in Oliver Twist, while the orphans starve – give us our daily bread, otherwise you too will soon end up feeling like a battered set of balls! And will I really enjoy that! ABSO-BLOODY-LUTELY. DM

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