Anarchy’s principle objections are that it promotes violence and is impractical. I can’t think of a better description for our current democracy. Prolific police brutality and MP’s pissing our money against over priced walls, money meant to swallow our economic divide, money meant for feeding & educating the poor’s children. Money, money, money. A tedious argument on repeat, all the while these same fat fuck agents of unchange sodomise long dead revolutionary aphorisms. In the words of a top shelf surrealist, they’re a bunch of ‘cock-hole fuckers’, true that methinks. What’s needed is a buggeringly broad chunk of solidarity, the notion that people are meant to be feared by their governments needs thinking about. Yet the cronies parade shamelessly, we are in trouble, my friends, and I want to talk shop. I serve the Cape comedy underground, a pent up collective, outspoken, skilled and in receipt of considerable sway. Let’s fuck something, someone deserving, up.
But I want an all in affair, I want a cross referenced creative onslaught, this is where you come in. Tell me how.
Ever hear of culture jamming? It’s a wholly art driven affair, some knit beanies for bus stops, plant gardens without official permission, still others manipulate mass media messages and inject thought provoking works of art into our daily lives. Sure some throw bricks, but let’s not jump the gun. The little messages that agitate, what you think of them? Is it in these little messages of agitation that a whole forms, do they eventually smelt together to forge substance?
Many of us write comedy like this, we take stabs at the fuck stained contributions of those who actively pursue power. Cue corruption, cue the business pigs masquerading as public servants, I’ve seen it met aggressively. The resources our politicos have been entrusted with have a primary purpose, the poor. Everything else, including the refurbishment of first world embassies, luxury vehicles, 208 million Rand security upgrades to harem pens and mobile company funded perks for boyfriends come a very distant ‘shouldn’t exist’.
Poverty, that toxic thief of meaning, needs to be seen as the next level nemesis it is. I’m not talking about not having things, or even property, I’m talking about being hungry and sick and cold. When these feature, progression is the nearest to fucked it could be, no human being could realise a beautiful life under these circumstances.
I’ve been cold, hungry and sick, I remember how far touching sides with meaning was, no literary aesthetic, creative ambition, nothing. Not until the pain went away.
That’s why, in an elective democracy, I find it bizarre that we would put these spendthrift pigs in charge of the coffers.
Perhaps the solution is tangible outcry, 250 000 people marching on the houses of parliament, insisting on a better calibre of leadership. Simple demands. Those in charge of public amenities should use public amenities. I want our MP’s to use public transport, public health services, live in RDP houses and live on modest budgets.
Is it really such an extravagant request? That our beautiful country produce beautiful leaders?
What’s the deal here, what’s next? What do we do?
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