Inside every living cell is the key to life, the template.  This is the DNA and it defines all the characteristics of the organism in which it is embedded.  It is surprisingly simple in concept.  It consists of two helical antiparallel strands, each of which have a sequence of bases namely T, A, C and G.  The two helices are intertwined and crosslinked but only T can link to A and C can link to G.  This unique structure can be unzipped and replicated to form two new DNA molecules and, in that way, the complete organism is built up.

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The ANC is riven with fools but if there’s a court jester then that title belongs to Fickle Mbalula.  Ten days after the Russians invaded a sovereign Ukraine, Fickle tweeted to his groupies that he had just landed in the Ukraine.  Pray tell, what macabre joke was that coming from a supposedly responsible cabinet minister?  Well I suppose it’s only to be expected from a manchild who styled himself as Mr Razzamatazz in a previous incarnation.  A more recent persona which he adopted was Mr Fear Fokol* when he was made Minister of Police.  This is from the manchild who had such a hard on for Beyonce that he kept on wanting to invite her to perform at the annual sporting awards at eye-watering cost.  His most recent falter ego is Mr Fixit which he anointed himself with when he was appointed Minister of Transport. 

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Someone described Trump as a sentient naartjie, although I think he was stretching the sentient bit.  This self-proclaimed ‘stable genius’ actually brags about aceing a comprehension test which is really designed to test for Alzheimer’s.

This week saw Liz Cheney reveal another cutting description of him by a Republican Representative who muttered, “The things we do for the orange Jesus,” when asked to sign a petition on 6^th January objecting to the outcome of presidential election.

Let’s see how well this description fits him.  Orange he undoubtedly is.  In fact, his overuse of fake tan has probably indelibly stained him for life.  Isn’t this delicious irony for a man who routinely accuses anyone and anything of being fake while he is the mother of all fakers – the ultimate motherfaker.  Enough of that – on to the Jesus bit.

Jesus performed many miracles in his short life.  With just the laying on of hands he cured blindness, got cripples to walk, and if he lived today, he would have cured Covid.  He also prayed to his dad for a bit of help which I found a bit confusing as he would be talking to himself if the Catholics are to be believed. 

Trump also needed the helping hand of his dad when he inherited his fortune but is quite impressive in his own right.  Just by talking about Chloroquine as a cure for Covid he managed to help the planet rid itself of some idiots who took his word as gospel.  Powerful stuff, idiocy.  He further advanced the cause of reducing world population with his daily unhinged sermons, proselytising against all scientific advice and exhorting people to praise him and worship him in that parallel universe – the Church of Trump (let’s hope he’s not resurrected in two years time).

Where Jesus promised heavenly riches by believing in God (himself, I suppose), Trump promised investors, who believed in him, fantastic earthly returns when he magically inflated the value of all his assets manyfold to show what an astute businessman he was.  This ability to conjure up things out of mid-air was matched by Jesus with his bread and papsak trick.

But where Trump trumps Jesus is that he doesn’t have to pray or say anything to get a result.  In a sycophantic interview with Sean Hannity on Faux News he mansplained that he didn’t even have to say anything but just think about it and highly secret documents, privy to only a few cognoscenti, would be mystically declassified and, I suppose, become public documents and could be distributed to the masses to cogitate on.

As I said before, powerful stuff, idiocy.  Really, really powerful stuff.

Of course, ERII does not refer to season 2 of that long running soapie, ER, but rather to an even longer running reality show, namely the reign of Elizabeth Regina II with all its plot twists, infidelities, deaths and scandals.  After 70 years on the throne, she bowed out this past week with the quiet dignity with which she lived her life.  The Queen is dead.  Long live the King. 

I don’t wish to make many comments on her reign as small-minded people like Julius Malema have already taken their cheap shots at her.  The only time Julius takes expensive shots is when the EFF High Command toasts their latest trashing of Parliamentary rules with Johnnie Walker Blue.  All I can say is that South Africans have had a schizophrenic relationship with her.  The Afrikaners hated her, my generation of English speakers by and large had a soft spot for her, and the Blacks lived with her as much as one lives with piles.

The UK is the only country where the country’s name has never appeared on its stamps.  They merely bore an image of the current monarch. The number 8 must be bad luck for the monarchy.  In between jousting, King Henry VIII went through 6 wives trying to produce viable male issue.  King Edward VIII abdicated in 1937 after less than a year after insisting that his jousting with the divorcee, Wallis Simpson, be made a more permanent sport.  The result was that his brief reign is only marked by the issue of 4 basic definitive stamps and no issue to trouble the royal genealogists.  

By contrast, Queen Lizzie set world records – she appeared on 736 definitive and commemorative stamp sets.  The commemorative sets ranged through British history, achievements, current events and art and literature.  Apart from the classic writers like Shakespeare and Wordsworth being celebrated, the Queen also lent her profile to two sets in 2010 that celebrate the stories of A.A. Milne.  I am talking about one of the nicest bunch of literary characters ever conceived – Winnie-the-Pooh and Friends in the hundred acre wood.  These comprised 10 stamps made from the original 1926-8 illustrations by E.H Shepard which are as classical and timeless as the lovely, innocent stories which we could have far more of in these dissipated times of fatwas, elementary school massacres and narcissistic presidents and selfies.

Until 1966, the Queen’s head appeared as a photo (or a woodcut version of it) looking to the left in a ¾ view.  Since then, she appeared as a side-on view, either as a marble bust with a crown on the definitive stamps, or purely as a silhouette without a crown (maybe a tiara) on the commemorative stamps.  

Some people would not care a groat for her.  In the philatelic world, she’s the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time).

Oh well.  Time to turn over a new leaf in my neglected childhood stamp album.  My last British stamp was from about 1974 so I’m missing more than 600 sets of stamps.  Maybe I’ll keep up this time.

The Sandy Hook Elementary School massacre of 2012 ranks as one of the worst in America with 20 kids and 6 staff killed by weapons that would make a SWAT team proud.  This uniquely American pastime was soon matched by that other favourite American hobby – the conspiracy theory.  In fact, they mainline conspiracy theories.

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In 47BC, Julius Caesar famously summarised his conquest of a minor potentate in Turkey as veni, vidi, vici – I came, I saw, I conquered.  Fast forward 2000 odd years and another despot with imperialist dreams, Vladimir Putin, thought that he could update this to Vladi – veni, vidi, vici (in Cyrillic of course) and get rid of that joke of a country with its ex-comedian President that was a painful reminder of a lost Empire.

This was going to be easy-peasy.  After all, using surrogate forces, Russia had conquered two important regions in eastern Ukraine in 2014 without any blowback from the West.  Also, Russia had three times the population of Ukraine and the second largest military arsenal in the world.  Following a massive build-up of forces, Russia invaded Ukraine from the east as well as from the north courtesy of his Belarusian stooge who had given Putin usufruct over the south of his country.  These were meant to be lightning strikes reminiscent of the German Blitzkriegs (Lightning Wars) of WWII – rapid and deep penetration by armoured columns, encirclement and the grinding of the demoralised troops into dust.   QED (Sticking with the Latin references, QED = quod erat demonstrandum.  I shall leave the actual translation as a tutorial exercise for the reader.  I might just note that I prefer the cynical student version of Quite Easily Demonstrated or Done after cracking a simple problem.)

But the Ukrainians hadn’t been sitting idle since 2014 and, with the help of American experts and Intelligence, they had prepared for a modern battlefield that involved the intelligent use of drones amongst other techniques.  They also knew their Latin and with a battle cry of Illegitimi non carborundum – a mock-Latin aphorism, translated as “Don’t let the bastards grind you down” – they devastated the Russian armoured thrusts.  They reversed the northern assault and stalemated the eastern one with appalling Russian losses in officers, men and materiel.  The vici part of veni, vidi, vici bit the dust to be replaced by cessi, loosely translated as I ran.

Putin has been forced to bring senior officers out of retirement including a 67-year-old ex-Spetsnaz General who’s the poster child for gastric sleeve surgery.  Their mercenary arm, the Wagner Group, has also been doing the rounds of prisons recruiting cannon fodder.  But where could he get his hands on modern drone type weaponry.

While Putin was mulling this problem, he realised that the Mullahs of Iran could help him if he spent a bit of moolah.  It seems as though the mulish Mullahs haven’t only been sitting around declaring jihads and issuing fatwas to all and sundry, but have also been busy beavers developing sophisticated drones.  So it was off to Iran he ran on 19 July.  Yes, there is talk of solidarity, of creating a single fortress and blah, blah, blah, but actually he is there for the drones. 

Quite embarrassing really for a superpower.  Almost as embarrassing as Biden fist-bumping Mohammed bin Salman who had ordered the vivisection of Khashoggi.

There’s a famous poster showing a steam train engine most of the way out of an elevated train station window with the saying, Oh Shit.  That is how Hlaudi ‘with a chance of millions’ Motsoeneng must have felt when the AFU (Asset Forfeiture Unit) came to attach his assets.

Hlaudi is a little man who was brought up in the arse end of the eastern Orange Free State.  This was Qwa Qwa, a little Bantustan of a few hundred thousand people scrabbling a living.  Not an auspicious start but what this man had in spades was ambition, self-belief and the will to kiss the arses of important ANC personalities.  These qualities took him all the way to the top with his ultimate blesser being Zuma, Mr Big.

As a freelancer for Radio Lesotho, Hlaudi managed to ingrate himself with the Chief Minister of Qwa Qwa with puff pieces.  Sensing the wind in 1992, he moved to Lesedi FM in Bloemfontein and cosied up to ANC heavyweights, Ivy Matsepe-Casaburri and his ace in the hole, Magashule.  He soon found himself in Mshini Wam’s orbit and landed a top job in the SABC as COO – not bad for an uneducated man from the foothills of the Drakensberg.  He now enjoyed the patronage and protection of uBaba himself, and his ambition knew no bounds.  He dispensed largess like a king throwing sweeties to his subjects and this extended to himself when he upped his own salary by 32% in 2015.  There were unwarranted promotions and appointments and at one stage, he gave R25million to artists.  Yes, part of SABC’s remit is to promote indigenous art and culture, but it is not a SASSA pay point.  It is supposed to nurture and promote them, not give them money out of hand.  Another one of his outlandish schemes in May 2016 was to insist on 90% local music content on radio stations.  When asked whether that was a bridge too far, he stated he would force it to be so and his ego couldn’t resist adding that I am “Hlaudi Motsoeneng, baby! I am in charge.”  But he committed his biggest sin when he sold off the family silver – all the SABC archives – to Multichoice for R650million.  Stupid or not and perhaps that was within his ambit as COO, but he claimed a ‘success fee’ of R11.5million for just doing what he was paid to do.

However, his Tata My Chance (a lotto slogan meaning, take a chance) has become Ta, Ta My Chance when he lost his job and the protection of Zuma who was by now powerlessly gnashing teeth on the sidelines at Nkandla bedevilled by paranoia while plotting revenge.  First his assets were attached, and then, in December 2021, the SIU (Special Investigative Unit) won their court case in the Gauteng High Court for the ‘success fee’ plus interest to be handed over.  Hlaudi applied for leave to appeal but that was turned down on 15 July with costs.

Like Zuma, Hlaudi is an appealing fellow, but only in the legal sense, so I don’t think this is the end of the legal route much trampled by unrepentant ANC apparatchiks.  Another case perhaps for the irrepressible Dali Mpofu and his grandstanding, misdirection, insults and dubious legal arguments.

South Africa is blessed with many game reserves which are responsible for bringing in much desperately needed foreign currency especially as the ANC seems to be constantly on the lookout for ways to debase it with their wastefulness and inefficient policies leading to ever increasing government borrowings.

There is an abundance of flora and fauna to attract overseas tourists and their lovely moolah.  Up the West Coast there is a carpet of delicate daisies to delight in spring.  But if meerkats are your thing, then the veld near Oudtshoorn is the place to be.  You can trek out in the chilly Karoo predawn to join a mob of meerkats for an hour or two as they wake up, stretch a bit, particularly their hardworking necks, groom each other and generally get ready for a busy day of looking for kak (mischief for overseas visitors).  They are fascinating creatures, but at the size of a small cat or large rat, they are not particularly impressive. 

What the tourists really want are the big five.  Some just want to do the ooh, aah thing while others want to shoot them for trophies.  Unfortunately, the odd-toed ungulate possesses an impressive horn which is suggestive of a rampant libido.  This attracts the unwanted attention of Asians in need of a quack sexual pick-me-up which in turn attracts the poachers in need of a quick financial pick-me-up.  At up to 4kg of horn per beast and a price of around R300,000/kg, the Rhino doesn’t stand a chance against an AK-47.  It’s satisfying work.  You can dress casually and you don’t have to go into the office every day.  Also, it’s less dangerous than a cash in transit heist as the Rhinos don’t shoot back.

Picking up on an earlier theme on poaching, I decided to publish a little fun drawing that I did for myself.  Some time ago I redrew the R10 note showing a dehorned Rhino and wondered if the Government would ever have the balls to break tradition and use our currency as an international protest platform.  After all, over the years the ANC has never shied away from using all other platforms to protest, mostly destructively. 

Even more radical would be to change the Rand to a Rhino after all the Rhino even predated the Khoisan in South Africa.   Looking eminently prehistoric, if that is linguistically logical, they have first dibs on our country.  Then again, maybe the crocodiles will take issue.  But wouldn’t it be fun to go to a Ford dealership and pay 559,000 Rhinos for a Ranger or 299,999 for a slightly used Ranger only ever ridden by an old granny on Sundays after church?

Unfortunately, the Government won’t do it.  Their hide is too thick and they’re even slower at thinking and changing direction than Rhinos.

The old South Africa had a plethora of racial legislation but it could be distilled into the three basic pillars of Apartheid.  The first, The Population Registration Act, decided what racial boxes to put everyone into.  The next, The Group Areas Act, decided where those boxes could reside and the third, The Prohibition of Mixed Marriages Act, prevented those little boxes from playing housey, housey.  These three pillars along with their supporting Acts were swept away by 1994 and the unholy trinity of the Tripartite Alliance – ANC, SA Communist Party and Cosatu – created a new hegemony.  It seemed as if SA’s bad luck was going to continue in triples and it was only going to get worse.

After the euphoria of victory died down, the Tripartite Alliance got down to the serious business of transforming South Africa.  Unfortunately, the ANC were indulgent midwives.  Protest action, making the country ungovernable and labour unrest were the most potent tools that helped to overthrow Apartheid.  28 years later and this intransigence continues to roil the economy.  It seriously hamstrings growth and this is in the face of ever-increasing levels of unemployment.  A recent study reports that a third of South Africans are earning less now than before Covid yet government and SOE workers have managed to wring at least inflation related increases out of the fiscus on top of their above par salaries. 

From a policy perspective, AA (Affirmative Action) and BEE (Black Economic Empowerment) constitute the two other pillars that underpin the present foetid state of South Africa.  These two policy initiatives were so enthusiastically pursued without any thought to reality that AA destroyed all institutional knowledge and BEE forced the insertion of letterbox companies into all procurement processes.  They added no value whatsoever except for their BEE credentials.  In many cases, the markups due to these Johnny Walker Blue companies have been eye watering.  In addition, while these two policies might not have created corruption, they provided fertile ground for it to take root with a will.

I know of not one SOE (State Owned Enterprise) and Government Department with the exception of Finance and Justice that is not become a joke.  They are riven with incompetence, venality and laziness and are overstaffed to boot.  However, one must single out Eskom as the single SOE that has the potential of collapsing the economy overnight and is an exemplar of those three pillars at work.  AA ensured that Eskom did not have the skills to undertake the supply expansion needed and to maintain the existing network.  BEE in the flagship construction projects and coal supply contracts coupled with the lack of skills has ensured project timescales doubling and huge increases in coal costs that is now often trucked in instead of being brought in by rail.  The latest bout of loadshedding, one of the most severe in the history of loadshedding, was brought about through illegal striking by militant workers that caused 16,000MW to go off line which is about a third of the total capacity.  They eventually only returned to work after rejecting all wage offers until they exceeded inflation in addition to a variety of direct one-off inducements.

Instead of transforming SA into a more equitable country, these three pillars have transformed South Africa into a shadow of its former capable self and has deepened the inequality through the rising unemployment rate.  Not only have we achieved junk status, but dump status as well.