/ 23 February 2011

Our republic is wearing circus cast-offs

Parliament is a bit like Willem Odendaal’s voorkamer on the day the post is expected to arrive in Derdepoort. The manne from the farms congregate, drinking coffee and comparing the holes in our veldskoens while waiting for the wagon.

But Vasbyt van Tonder, who recently returned from the Cape, says things there are not quite the same as Willem Odendaal’s voorkamer. For one, there is no peach brandy to sweeten the coffee with. And the people running the republic these days are so poor, they all dress in circus hand-me-downs when they gather to listen to Oom Jacob.

Then there’s that big induna from KwaZulu-Natal, who seemed to think Oom Jacob’s State of the Nation address was as flimsy as the wisps of cloth the native maidens wear when attempting to steer one of the manne away from the path of righteousness.

This Mangosuthu Buthelezi responded by listing the “clear evidence” that Oom Jacob’s party was hellbent on wrecking the induna‘s party. Pity the “clear evidence” amounted to a tirade littered with allegations rather than anything substantive.

Lemmer was reminded of the time Attie Steyn was found in his housemaid’s hut, his pants around his ankles and his head buried in the sandy floor under the bed. Attie Steyn spent the rest of his days wandering the Marico alone, slugging his mampoer and grumbling that no one would believe he was merely hiding from the government tax collector.

Meanwhile, Minister Blade Nzimande walked like a stepping razor and talked like a toilet brush during his response to Oom Jacob’s speech. Not that the manne took issue with that — we’re made of hardier stuff in the Groot Marico.

Much hardier than these limp Cape liberals from the Democratic Alliance who took umbrage with Stepping Razor’s describing the national legislature as “a Parliament of darkies”.

We’ve used much stronger words to describe government. Especially when the tax collectors or those snake-oil salesmen looking for a vote come around.
Willem Odendaal says Stepping Razor now has an open invitation to discuss Parliament in his voorkamer whenever the minister has a break from doing Bride of Chucky impersonations at public gatherings. The manne assure the minister they will locate for him a papsak of rooi wyn and a miniature podium from the local primary school.

Mind you, the real problem these parliamentarians have is how to tell a story. As Oom Schalk said: “It’s not the story that counts. What matters is the way you tell it. The important thing is to know just at what moment you must knock out your pipe on your veldskoen — Another necessary thing is to know what part of the story to leave out.” The manne feel that perhaps Oom Jacob took that last bit of advice too seriously.