Reading the latest political pieces written by the South
African Communist Party's executive committee always reminds me of the schoolyard during lunch break.
There, with my friends, I would play all sorts of silly games, one of which
includes soldier-soldier. Basically, the
game entails you imagining that there are a couple of bad guys hiding behind
the onnies’ (teachers’) cars/behind the bushes/among the girls, and it’s your
mission to go kill them. Back then a couple of friends and I
all had these big lunch-boxes, so once the food was eaten (thanks mom!) the
lunchboxes would turn into our own personal side-arms: sub-machine guns,
rifles, bazookas...we had wild imaginations, I confess.
How Deep the Rabbit-hole Goes
Anyway, once we were "armed" we would give ourselves titles,
such as corporal, general, sergeant...whatever titles sounded cool, obviously in
the wrong military hierarchical order, and then we would go look for the bad
guys. It was especially fun when we had
to find the bad guys among the girls, and I won’t go into details, but the fact
that the bad guys were imaginary and that we gave ourselves titles are the aspects
that made me think about the SA commie political pieces. With, “comrade” here, “comrade” there, and “We
shall endure, comrades!”, the pieces quickly turn into something that seems to
be a script right out of our primary school playground speeches. You know, those speeches the “General” would
give right before we go chase and shoot the imaginary bad guys/girls.
It doesn’t help when these “comrades” are as capitalistic as
one can get. It seems so strange when
they so feel for the poor, the poor that must struggle under
“liberal-capitalist, counter-revolutionary forces”, while they drive the latest
Mercedes Benz, Land Rover 4X4s or BMWs, eating out, with their entourages
nogal, at expensive capitalist-controlled restaurants that all entertain the
“counter-revolutionary forces” while stuffing their faces with everything SQ on the
menu. It is a special hoot to see Blade
Nzimande himself, the Chief Commissar of Communism in South Africa, feeding his
face at Doppio Zero in Greenside the one day, one of the most "capitalist-elite"
areas in Johannesburg West, while espousing the evil that is Capitalism the
next in his prolific, convoluted speeches. I guess the croissants and gelato was too good too resist, so a one-day defection was in order. (On a personal note, Doppio Zero's food is indeed mouth-wateringly good. Feel free to try their food anytime...except if your a communist, of course. Capitalist pigs!)
And don’t get me started on one of those! The pieces that are written can only be described
as utterly incoherent. I’m not sure even
Blade himself understands what he is writing, so chock-full of communist
choice-words these speeches are, and in totally the wrong order or with the
totally wrong meaning that you have to be a really special person to fathom
what exactly he is trying to say.
Obviously you get the overall jest of it, but the detail is
mind-boggling. Don’t believe me? Try reading half-way through this baby and
tell me what he’s trying to say: http://www.sacp.org.za/docs/conf/2015/conf0708.html
Now, while reading these things, my mind wanders. With an overactive imagination such as the
one I have, it is very easy to start thinking of massive space battles while
having to concentrate on your work. The
space battles are far more entertaining, ok?
And it’s not like I’m not trying at least. Anyway, I’m digressing. While reading these speeches I have come to
the realization that the only people that will really appreciate these pieces
for their poetic artistry are those that are on some serious drugs. Now, I have never taken drugs, never
will, but if anything some of my friends that were on drugs and some well-known
stand-up comedians have taught me is that you experience things in a completely
different light when your mind is higher than a kite. I can only imagine what you will be thinking
when you read those Nzimande poetry while high, but sadly I probably will never
know as I value my morality more than my pleasure.
Thus I come to the point I want to make with this blog
entry: considering all the facts at our disposal, and the way South Africa
communist heavyweights (pun intended) conduct themselves, either through their
work, leisure, or writing skills, one has to come to the conclusion that South
African Communist heavyweights are either:
- School children trapped in adult bodies, or
- Constantly on drugs
So the next time you see a commie, spare a thought for the
poor soul. And when they speak to you in
their commie gibberish language, just nod your head, say “I feel for you, man”,
turn around, and walk away. You will save yourself a lot of trouble and at the
same time make a commie feel good for a moment, making him think someone
actually cares for his insane babblings.
