they died so that we didn't have to care

Yes, I voted today.

But what's more interesting (to me at least), is that these decisions are still so racially influenced. With the generations past, this is completely understandable and justified. I have no qualms about the fact that most older white people vote DA and most older black people (and I use black in the BC way) vote for the ANC, Cope and the scatterings of other groups. What was surprising is that after stumbling into a politically tinged conversation with some white semi-friends, I realised that most were voting for the DA. I only found this out when I shouted "who the fuck would vote for them?" and was met with an awkward silence.

Surely not. Surely they could see the campaign posters that bear "STOP ZUMA" across their faces like acne are lazy, intellectually stunted and a certain way to alienate a large majority of undecided voters? did they never hear Tony Leon speak? Did the frankly racist "Fight Back" campaign in the 1999 election not speak of the kind of party they were?

This post was not designed as an attack, though. All I'm examining is that despite the number of flaws in the party (and the same could be said for any other), young voters seem to still be governed by the invisible hand that is our past. The young people, rebelling against staid parents are also just accelerating the quiet racialisation of our post-apartheid state. On the surface, things have changed. But there are people who listen to the same music as me and dress in the same (not exactly the same) clothes who are bound to political views like cripples to crutches.

 

The only reason I voted for Cope was that I see it as the first attempt at a party that is formed after the maelstrom of apartheid politics. The rhetoric has never been like the ANC's triumphant "single handed" victory over oppression, nor has it relied on reactionary policitics (though it's formation was) of the DA. Perhaps by 2014 there will be a stronger sense of Cope as a party independent of Mbeki's former allies, but only through ensuring their survival now can I hope for such a future. 

Mondays

What a wonderful pre-election Monday I've had. 

An English lecture, surrounded by idiots and sniggering fools (sniggering is almost a very unnice and grammatically confusing slur) was just about the only negative. That and missing my IR tut. On that note, I got the highest mark in my course, which is justification, I feel, for my being an ass during tuts. 

After a wonderfully precise (10 minute) economics tut, Ndax, Dan and I took a little adventure that included a visit to Sennheiser and a Mexican restaurant. the Sennhesier people were quick and German about the business, which pleased me since I didn't have a receipt and the damage was probably my fault. Unfortunately the Mexicans are on a permanent siesta, so we went to a nice sushi place on 7th in Melville instead. Here was some delicious stuff. Eaten off a conveyor belt, it was more delicious as the kinetic energy is transferred to the flavour molecules. It's proven. We ate sitting in a row, quiet for the most part, stacking up tiny plates as monuments to our acheivements and conquests. Tuna California Roll. Salmon Nigiri. Sashimi. Crab Stick Fashion Sandwich. And on and on. Dan's girlfriend Amy came too, and added more trophies before we settled the bill and I put on my sunglasses that make me feel as if the world has had honey drizzled over it's frame.

Some more driving, a few stops and a meeting with my potential new boss at Melrose Arch and I was home as things cooled down. The sun set slowly and gradually my bare legs reacted to the cold, a tightened calf muscle. A tightened shin.

here are some photos I've taken with my new fancy phone.

Buy My Vote

I'm seriously considering voting for the first party to give me a free t-shirt.

Had I been five years older (and able to vote in the 2004 election) I'd have a much easier time deciding where my first scratched x would land: ANC, next to Thabo's smiling, souless face.

Today, of course, the ANC looks much different. Gone is the intelligensia of the exiled elite, the out of touch, ivory towered, Ph.D-waving leaders. Now we have the men and marginalised women of "the people". The same "people" who expect social grants to be extended, and houses to be built and service delivery to be bettered. I am not one of those people. I don't really care about grants or house, and as long as the basics (electricity, water, ADSL) are delievered to the northern suburbs, I'm happy. I miss the intelligensia. They were pretty hopeless, yes, but they also inspired some tiny sense of confidence. Now, instead, we have a man who's idea of a public address includes the call for a weapon and much gyrating. Yes, the song was an anti-apartheid rallying cry, but, I don't care. What I care about is the efficient judiciary of our state, the competence of our leadership, the fact that techinicalities are the only reason Zuma is walking free. 

This confidence I have lost, and for a fleeting moment I thought COPE might provide it. Here was a party born after the end of apartheid - perfect! - I don't have affiliations to any anti-apartheid party because I wasn't alive.  History means little to me, and thus a party born in the deracialised milieu I find myself in would be best placed to serve my interests, right? Well, almost. The trouble began with the leadership - former ANC "stalwarts" (why is this term used so often?) who defected after Mbeki's capitulation decided to defect and set up the Congress of the People. The obvious issue here was that they too (you, Terror) were tainted in whatever the ANC was implicated in. The tar brush forgets no one. After name calling and bared teeth, the virtually unknown (to me, at least) Rev. Dandala was selected as leader. Two issues here:

One: Who is this guy? Isn't this a Shikota deal? Why is Lekota's face also on the posters? What's going on? 

Two: I'm uncomfortable having a man of god be my president. I know, I know, they stopped touching children and telling everyone who didn't believe that they'd go to hell - but still. When politics and religion mix, I feel as if I've just had a milkshake topped with a layer of biltong.

So COPE have come out, gun ablaze in confusion, poor organisation and a leader I know nothing about but don't feel comfortable voting for. And some policy somewhere.

The underlying issue here,of course, is that our elections are about the party, not the policy. Sure, websites promise to "pull our people out of abject poverty". Of course nowhere is it asked "how?". Is the electorate so gullible as to believe any promise made without substantiation? After having seen ANC posters in Hebrew and Greek, it strikes me as strange to note that the ANC have courted these tiny demographics and ignored the (presumably) larger one: people who care about the actual issues at hand.

I'm at a stage where, should the ANC propose a massive, well-thought out restructuring of our economy and the issues of poverty and crime, I would vote for them. This despite the idiocy of men like Jacob Zuma and Julias Malema.

My Beds Are Always Empty (If You Don't Count The Ghosts)

Sennheiser PX100s breathed their final breaths of open-aired beauty today. I'm actually sad, the best headphones I've ever had (and I've had very, very many pairs) died a death unbecoming for a 5 month old.

R.I.P German buddies.

Doing This Again

So. Here's another blog started (and soon to be aborted) by me. 

I think this one will have a better chance of surviving, although I probably feel some sense of optimism every time I create an account. The purpose of this one, however, is slightly different. This time I will not be selling ad space for "single ladies in your area". Those days were fruitless and chafed. Instead I'll be self-publishing some of the short stories I write in math lectures and between classes. My Moleskine is not the most accessible medium, and should I die before my inevitable rise to literary prominence and the subsequent fatwa uproar, I figure this is the most easily traceable guide to my early works.

Facebook is not really an option for this kind of project. One, most of the people I'm friends with are idiots. I do not want to field questions over plot minutiae, nor be lauded or criticised by people who regard Harry Potter as their literary highlight. Two, I don't really care if people read it. Having something on facebook is like a tattoo you get when you're drunk, a good idea at the time, but rather silly if you look back at it. Three, I feel I should be more engaged in the world around me (not necessarily the one I inhabit). In this age of seamless integration and globalism, I start to feel left out sometimes. 

I also, on the rare occasion, feel the need to write about the goings on in my wonderful country. I'm not one for marching, chanting or coming up with snappy slogans. Most of my slogans are laborious and without a rhyming scheme. Writing (though most forums would disprove this assertion) is somewhat more dignified and measured.

Also, most significantly, I have 3 subjects this semester, this leaves me with plenty of time. I actually take 4, but maths is a write off that I'll be dropping at the end of June - so for now I'm rereading Murakami and starting blogs.