Monday, March 2, 2009



Gutter politics is deafening, dear
By Fred Khumalo
Feb 28, 2009

"Helen Zille should have known that the smartest option would have been to remain silent when Julius Malema verbally attacked her"

"To minister Naledi Pandor’s credit, she took his slight about her fake accent in her stride and did exactly what I’ve just said: she kept quiet"

If you pick fights with thugs you will end up right there where they wallow — in the gutter. I don’t know why they didn’t communicate this simple lesson to poor Godzille.

When called a racist and a colonialist by Julius Malema, the Botox lady shouldn’t have responded by calling him an inkwenkwe (uncircumcised boy in Xhosa).

Shame, look at Zille now squirming in the gutter, exchanging dollops of nasty talk with Malema.

The squishy contents of the gutter are not doing Zille’s Botox job any good. She will soon need to go and see her surgeon to repair the damage done by the contents of the gutter where she is gasping for air now.

What was she thinking?

Leave Malema to the gutter, didn’t they tell her?

He is au fait with its nooks and crannies. It is where he keeps his most malodorous pieces of insult on which he nibbles every now and then, and which he also throws at those who get anywhere near his beloved gutter.

Once you join him there, you will soon become like him.

The gutter is addictive. Ask me. I thought my reference to it would be limited to one sentence of a rather sober article.

But look how far I am with the article already. I am way in deep, baby. Ah, the smell of the gutter is alluring.

When attacked by Malema, the mayor of Cape Town — who Malema has suggested is Michael Jackson in drag — should have kept quiet.

Yes, shurrup!

The silence of his adversaries confuses Malema deeply — he doesn’t know how to insult an opposer who doesn’t answer.

Not so long ago, Malema insulted our minister of education, Naledi Pandor, and said she was speaking in a fake American accent. Okay, obviously, one who struggled unfruitfully with woodwork at school cannot tell the difference between an American accent and an English one.

But to her credit, the minister took the slight in her stride and did exactly what I’ve just said: she kept quiet.

Malema’s inability to deal with adversaries who don’t insult him back possibly dates back to his school days.

Every time he touched a piece of wood in his woodwork classes and tried to carve it into something of beauty, the piece of wood refused to play along.

And so Malema, in anger and frustration, shouted obscenities at the piece of wood. But being what it is, the piece of wood didn’t even bat an eyelid at his torrent of abuse , let alone threw insults at him.

Consequently, Malema developed a fear and respect for pieces of wood and other opposers who stare back at him in utter silence when he insults them.

The endless and maddening encounters with stubborn pieces of wood that wouldn’t say anything to him ended in the young man developing what is called the frustrated-by-wood syndrome .

Specialists from the Sterkfontein Institute for the Intellectually Challenged are working day and night in an effort to understand and analyse the various manifestations of this least-understood syndrome.

It’s tough work. As tough as woodwork in Malema’s hands.

For some time now, the specialists from the institute have been trying to kidnap Malema so they could pin him down, do a lobotomy and study his brain — the little of it that he has anyway.

But Malema is a moving target. One minute he is at an ANC Youth League rally, the next at some whisky-tasting shindig, then he is attending night lectures on how to win friends and insult racists, colonialists, imperialists, capitalists and other -ists.

Maybe my friends at the institute should enlist the help of Tony Yengeni — he knows how to kidnap people. Just ask Fikile Mbalula.

In any case, back to the syndrome.

Preliminary research, a source within the institute tells me, shows that the victim of this syndrome is very complex and delusional.

He likes to think of himself as an orator. He also has a logic that takes things literally: if a person who is obsessed with race can be called a racist, it follows that one who is perpetually angry is an angryist. (At a rally in KwaZulu-Natal last weekend, the young man with the piece of stubborn wood in his hands said COPE supporters never smiled and were therefore ‘angryists’.)

Now, thanks to the exchange about racists and inkwenkwe, I am, like Mathews Phosa, one of those who wonder how Godzille knows that Malema is uncircumcised.

But no, I am not expecting an answer.

I’ll stay in the dark, rather than in the gutter