It's about seven weeks after Christmas, and the feel-good- love-your-fellow-man thing is wearing thin for me.
It's about seven weeks after Christmas, and the feel-good- love-your-fellow-man thing is wearing thin for me.
I wake up and find I can't suffer fools gladly any longer. In fact, they rile the crap out of me.
Take the saga of the national coach, Carlos Alberto Parreira, who arrived here to take charge of the national team, only to find that some jerk at Safa had not arranged his work permit.
The newspapers get wind of the story. One thing leads to the other. Parreira and his assistant get a couple of days off because Home Affairs takes full advantage of the opportunity to look like they brook no nonsense.
Common sense prevails, though, because Parreira's application is fast-tracked so he won't break the law while he prepares us for the momentous occasion when we will lift the world cup trophy in 2010. Huh!
Then you switch on the radio and hear silly, grumpy nitwits complaining that it was "unfair" of Home Affairs to speed up Parreira's papers while thousands wait forever for their documents to be processed.
When one hears this sort of piffle, you start wondering what happens in the homes of some of these callers. I can visualise them running late for work because they let their six-year-olds use the bathroom first because they (the kids) woke up first.
These are the same people who say that our president should join the rest of us and travel by Kulula.com to save on costs.
So, if we abided by this sick logic, the national coach would have to queue at Home Affairs, and probably wait for a couple of years until he holds someone hostage to get sorted out.
"We are all the same!" they holler.
No dearies. We are not all the same. Some are presidents and national coaches. And some of us are hoi polloi.
Parreira aside, even in an egalitarian society such as ours, wouldn't it be plain stupid for, say, Madiba to join mile-long queues for his passport to be signed?
Who the hell does Parreira think he is?
Well, he is the national coach preparing this country for a miracle in 2010.
Would we not be the very epitome of Third Worldism if a national coach had to wait his turn in the queue while Home Affairs sorts out some Mahlomola Mofokengs?
George Orwell was right, some people are more equal than others. Finish en klaar.
Some Parreiras more equal than others
It's about seven weeks after Christmas, and the feel-good- love-your-fellow-man thing is wearing thin for me.
It's about seven weeks after Christmas, and the feel-good- love-your-fellow-man thing is wearing thin for me.
I wake up and find I can't suffer fools gladly any longer. In fact, they rile the crap out of me.
Take the saga of the national coach, Carlos Alberto Parreira, who arrived here to take charge of the national team, only to find that some jerk at Safa had not arranged his work permit.
The newspapers get wind of the story. One thing leads to the other. Parreira and his assistant get a couple of days off because Home Affairs takes full advantage of the opportunity to look like they brook no nonsense.
Common sense prevails, though, because Parreira's application is fast-tracked so he won't break the law while he prepares us for the momentous occasion when we will lift the world cup trophy in 2010. Huh!
Then you switch on the radio and hear silly, grumpy nitwits complaining that it was "unfair" of Home Affairs to speed up Parreira's papers while thousands wait forever for their documents to be processed.
When one hears this sort of piffle, you start wondering what happens in the homes of some of these callers. I can visualise them running late for work because they let their six-year-olds use the bathroom first because they (the kids) woke up first.
These are the same people who say that our president should join the rest of us and travel by Kulula.com to save on costs.
So, if we abided by this sick logic, the national coach would have to queue at Home Affairs, and probably wait for a couple of years until he holds someone hostage to get sorted out.
"We are all the same!" they holler.
No dearies. We are not all the same. Some are presidents and national coaches. And some of us are hoi polloi.
Parreira aside, even in an egalitarian society such as ours, wouldn't it be plain stupid for, say, Madiba to join mile-long queues for his passport to be signed?
Who the hell does Parreira think he is?
Well, he is the national coach preparing this country for a miracle in 2010.
Would we not be the very epitome of Third Worldism if a national coach had to wait his turn in the queue while Home Affairs sorts out some Mahlomola Mofokengs?
George Orwell was right, some people are more equal than others. Finish en klaar.