/ 29 September 2007

The Luthuli Times, Volume 1, Issue 1

Published by non-aligned parallel structures within the aligned structure of the Party. No names, please. We don’t want to have to deny anything after Polokwane.

We salute those who salute the everyday salutes of those who strive on a daily basis to salute, with democratic salutations, the salutes of their comrade saluters. Saluta continua!

And we salute you for accepting this, the first edition of The Luthuli Times, from the vending cadre who threw it at you off the back of a municipal truck. Who was Luthuli? He was before 1994, so that’s not really important for you to know. What is important, however, is that you are part of our solution to the problem of a media that has shown itself reluctant to embrace a non-racist view of the country. By this we refer to whites, most Indians, some coloureds and their coconut lackeys. If you’re having trouble telling the difference between a lickspittle coconut and a Party cadre who has embraced Western capitalism, drives a German sedan, speaks English to his family at home and dislikes the common throng, remember these helpful hints. A coconut is black on the outside but white on the inside. A Party cadre is black on the outside, a mixture of white and red on the inside, but ultimately yellow where any sort of accountability is concerned. Remember, stay non-racial. And if you’re still not sure, please consult our new official Black Enuff wall chart, sponsored by Plascon.

First, the good news. No one has reported any more babies dying at Frere Hospital. We salute all those deployed in the area. This level of non-reportage speaks volumes for the culture of disciplined anti-verbiage-no-speak we are trying to instill in the cadres. Please remember, your Party needs you: if you or love-cadre have heard of any babies dying anywhere, please mobilise your discretion structures and deploy no words from your face. Do not be alarmed if the SABC come to you and ask if they can question you: they will only ask what the weather’s been like and what your hopes for 2010 are. Remember to smile.

If, however, the racist broadsheets come sniffing around asking disappointing questions about dead babies, please make it clear that no babies have been mandated to be deployed in the region and that any births, and subsequent deaths, are therefore due to ill-disciplined pre- and antenatal structures being undermined by rogue gynaecological elements seeking to destabilise the Party.

In other good news, we salute the diplomatic masterstroke achieved in persuading Comrade Mugabe (Order of the Skeletal Ox, Clustered with Flies, on a Plain Scorched) to consider free and fair elections. We are confident that they will be as free and fair as the last ones were and we congratulate ZanuPF on a well-deserved victory. Better luck next time, MDC.

Now to the bad news. A few people continue to die of XXX-XXXX. While we have never known anyone personally who has died of XXX-XXXX, we are assured by the ministry that the syndrome has not yet been entirely eradicated. Thus, in the interests of transparency, we can reveal that this year 13 people have died of XXX-XXXX. However, please also note that over the same period 156 000 people have died of a lack of vibrancy, while a further 46,4million have died in the Eastern Cape alone from choking on antiretroviral cocktails; 73 have also died after having their medical records stolen.

Finally, we double-anti-salute Not-Comrade Helen Zille (woman, third degree) for comparing the Party to Animal Farm (which, for all Citizens who benefited from the education ministrations of Comrades Bhengu and Asmal, is a novel, which is a sort of book, which is a thing you read, which is when you move your eyes across words, which is a dangerous and anti-democratic activity, which is why we will continue to underwrite a national culture that urges little boys to be soccer players and little girls to be easy lays for soccer players, instead of telling them to put their faces in books). We have Googled Animal Farm and find it features pigs called Napoleon and Snowball. We find the former very offensive, but the latter quite endearing and are considering it as a new rallying call for Comrade Zuma, who grows in stature simply by rolling from place to place, much like a snowball.

We salute you and we hope you salute us. Anyone who stops saluting before Snowball has stopped saluting will be forced to recuse themselves from the boards of at least three multinational corporates.

Salut!