I tried to write a dictionary some time ago but I got bored along the way. Especially after I read Who Was Who 5000BC-1914 AD. It read like what I wanted to do with words except they used real people and it sounded much more fun, like the entry for Cain which reads ‘one of our ancestors of whom we do not brag’. Maybe I should write an encyclopaedia instead, the entry for G-Spot would be qualified as, ‘The Holy Grail’. Anyway, if I had concluded my task, the entry for Politically Incorrect would read: “You are right, but you cannot just say that shit.”

Everyone hates stereotypes, what my dictionary would have called ‘generalisations about people which are false, totally unacceptable but often true’. We know what white people say about black people in the privacy of their quarters while Uncle Toms snicker and giggle and drop the tray of water with the floating slice of lemon, and we black people say our shit about whites when we are on our own, like how they dress poorly (blacks love their glitter, whether it’s Rolex watches (hello [dis]Grace), or chrome rims and Italian designs, like we don’t have homosexuals who can sew in Africa). In a perfect world we would say it to each other’s faces and the white guy, in shorts and crocs in the club would be like, ‘touché my nigga!’ and life would go on as smooth as God intended his imperfect offspring to live. But no, even satirising stereotypes is still a major no-no and we have to be ‘politically correct’.

Stereotypes hey, always hanging in the back of our minds. Whites are all rich; you see a white beggar in Africa I guarantee you if you stick around for a little while someone will say, ‘why don’t his people help him out?’ like gee, you are Zimbabwean like him, why don’t you help him out?! Then one dude fucks up on repaying a loan, what do you say, ‘eish, black people…’ like how many makhiwas have you ever loaned money? Yeah I thought so! Humans are generally f***ed up, deal with it!

This is the age of deception, half the rappers on your radio are ‘cat-prefixes’ who have only seen a gun on police holsters, but when they get in the studio they have Glock-ed enough people to fill at least two cemeteries. Do what you have to man, it’s art, assume a persona and make it credible; hell Tupac studied Shakespeare and ballet but don’t you ever say that in the Bay. Image is everything, especially in business. That’s why I now read books on recommendation, to hell with what the press says, if my circles don’t like it there are more fun ways of killing brain cells. Like alcohol. And I can’t even say names of who wrote a terrible book, because I have to be politically correct.

Politically Correct

Politicians know what I am talking about, yarn spinners, tellers of convenient truths. That nizzy Barry Obizzy (that would be politically incorrect if he was obese) can’t even wear a red tie even if the catalogue says it shows confidence and makes you the centre of attention. He had to quit smoking when he became president, why? Because it wouldn’t be very statesman-like to be on the podium with a cigarette dangling from his mouth like Andy Capp. Poor bastard, if you meet him ask him if it’s true that snuff kicks you like blowing good old fag-butts. Then they made him dye his hair, like Bob who has been dying since before I was born (he’s so ancient his baby booties are now fossils). Obama had jet black hair when he was Senator Obama running for his first term as President Obama. I turn on the – to borrow a line from Quaz – ‘tell-lie-vision’ one day and hello, dude looks like he just had an orgy in an ash-pit and forgot to use the shampoo. Yeah we know what’s going on, trying to spin us the ‘age/experience/wisdom’ yarn huh? Just like Bob has to look young and able, even though he’s so old his first cat was a sabre tooth tiger.

Earlier on this year Julius Malema, my favourite comedian, drops a cracker of a speech in parliament (he’s a racist, but there is no pun on cracker…absolutely none). Even I am giving him nods and the best the speaker of parliament can say is ‘decorum’. I could write jokes about that guy all day, hell Trevor Noah owes that guy or God royalties. It’s not so hard, like his name for example, a lema in Ndebele is an idiot, or something more coarse, Malema literally translates to ‘idiots’ and right there is re-proof that God is on crack, he was like, ‘your name shall be Legion…of idiots!’

Really, of all the bullshit you can call Malema out for, the best you can do is resurrect a dead language and say, ‘decorum’. Really? What do you mean he can’t say that in there? The man had legitimate concerns, excuse him for not putting on his Louis Vuitton cap in parliament and opting for red overalls and wellingtons, but how the hell, in the country with the ‘most progressive constitution in the world’, are you going to say a legislator ‘can’t say that’? So you are going to ignore all the valid points he made because he didn’t say it right?

Such a world, even Malema has to be ‘politically correct’! No wonder Jesus loved children (no Mr Paedophile, you have nothing in common!). Children are so honest. One time we were at a farm and this kid sees cows mating. Guess what he says at the dinner table, ‘mommy I saw a cow getting a piggy-back ride’. Euphemisms huh, hang around kids long enough and you don’t have to be creative at all.

What was the point of this writing by the way?!