I, not us and them

I’m going to say “I” quite a lot in this column. Lately there’s been a little too much “we”, “us” and “them” for my taste, but mainly I’m doing it because writers indulge in the imperious “we” only when they’re feeling authoritative, secure enough to speculate on what “we” think; and right now I’m not

It’s the President on Line 1

A picture can paint a thousand words, but sometimes it also paints just one. Like “fokkoff”. On 28 September the UN held a luncheon during its 70th session (“luncheon” is rich person for “lunch”), and just after the first course of wild platitude poached in a jus of lightly broken promises, and just before the

Another shot of outrage, anyone?

The joke goes something like this. A guy walks into a bar and orders a drink. The barkeep pours it, and the guy picks up the glass — and then splashes the booze all over his face. “Geez, buddy,” says the surprised barkeep, “why‘d you do that?” The man, genuinely perplexed, says, “I wish I

We’ve been framed

In the middle of Cape Town’s Waterfront there stands a large yellow frame. Viewed from directly in front, it encapsulates a famous scene: the city, loomed over by a perfectly flat Table Mountain. To be photographed inside the frame is to capture the quintessential Cape Town image. There’s even a white X painted on the

Why we aren’t really Charlie

I am not Charlie. For more than a decade I have written satire for a living and for pleasure, but in those few instances where I was presented with a genuinely dangerous target, I backed down. I am not willing to die for an idea. I’m not even sure that I admire those who are.

Stop the news. I want to get off

When things are grim, I think of a letter I once read. It was written by an old, sad man to his favourite nephew. I forget the nephew’s name but the man’s name was Michelangelo and the note, translated from Italian, was dated some time in the early 1560s. A life of immense physical effort