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Monday, 1 November 2010

mr Ismail, capt' ain barnacles

Never mind Mandela's inauguration nodded to by that garish flyover of tame kragdagtigheid courtesy of the military Combine...

...the first time I had the right to vote. the choice for which I had fought and sacrificed along with so many others.

And which right earned I could freely squander on the Soccer and Kiss parties respectively.

My belligerence, its minder nihilism, tacitly qualified solidarity with the ANC perforce underground, legit now, no longer trusted. 

Never mind all that ground-breaking stuff and history being made.

It was only when I saw Fowly, driving -- driving a f***ing car! -- after having trampled JHB under foot for 45 odd years, fanning out from the splendid ivory towers where he had taught by the effervescent moon-light of his conscience.

Now, he had wheels! -- car finance, in hock to the Bank... the industrial Combine.

....that's when I knew, a new epoch had arrived.

[and Kubler-Ross, Five Stages of Grief, properly adorned]