Get with the digital programme, labels!

This does not need to be a long post. I have a simple message, and it is one to record labels that cling to the antiquated concept of physical distribution rights for music:

You lose out in the end.

Too often I am confronted with this message:

That message is not the vendor's fault (I've contacted them). They are simply not allowed to sell me, the South African, that offending record, because the label has some territorial distribution deal with... the UK... Patagonia... the mystical "Africa"... whoever and wherever I am lumped under this week, and they cannot allow me to legally buy (yes, pay for) a digital copy. If I want it, I have to haul my arse to whatever local store *might* sell the cd... or order an import.

...please, I beg you, what does a record store look like? I haven't been to one recently.

So this message goes out to (in this case), Secretly Canadian, because I wanted to download Odd Blood by Yeasayer. I was shown the message in question. I could've skipped the next step, but to be fair, checked whether Yeasayer is one of those bands I might still buy a physical product (also called a compact disc) of.

Time passed...

Nope. Sorry, Yeasayer's not one of the chosen 10 artists I still buy cd's of, which is a pity, I would've liked to listen to Odd Blood. Alas! they fall into the category: digital downloads. Which, if some 1980's way of music distribution prevents me from getting a legal copy, means tough luck. And tough luck has many possible implications, none of which involve the band being fairly compensated. So I'll rather move on and buy something by... hmmm... oh, yes! Melt Banana. Because it's available to me.

And I just remembered, Secretly Canadian signed BLK JKS, the band I drove a mere 15 minutes for to see live two years ago, before they became world famous, and in the process their music (specifically After Robots) not available to me, back in the ZAR, via digital download.

This turned out longer than I intended. All I wanted to say is: "Hey, labels! Recording Industry! Wake Up!"

Is all our news from China?

To continue my previous tirade about useless news, this article was published yesterday on News24 about how Cape Town rap act Die Antwoord is taking the net by storm, thanks to a newly updated website and coverage at amongst others, everyone's favourite BlogThatWillCrashYourSite, BoingBoing (here and here).

The News24 article merely reposts a Reuters article that in turn just oozes original research. The process: quick check at Facebook, check phone call, quick check on Twitter. If some individual tweets they're like Eminem, use it as a Significant Universal Truth. Or write, after a quote: "...said Die Antwoord's frontman, only known as Ninja" and move on. It's like they're using Google China.

Am I expecting too much to hope for a bit more? For someone in the story chain to insist on a bit more meat, a bit of reflection and inquisitiveness before the story is filed? For making the connection with precursors like Max Normal?

At least the BoingBoing readers do. Links everywhere! Debates about whether it's parody, or a concept and who the people are. The informal users are the real sources of information on the web and the formal online news sites are doing a poor job of writing informed articles.

Kudos to the Labia (and tack too...)

Last night four of us went to see Låt den rätte komma in at Cape Town's favourite independent cinema, Labia. Although it was listed as "Let the right one in" we weren't worried, as using English titles are often used for foreign language films (think "Departures" or "3-Iron"). So big was the surprise when the movie was shown dubbed in English. Dubbed POORLY in English.

The movie was visually stunning, the music great, the acting good, but dammit, everytime someone started speaking it grated. And irritated. The accents were like An Attempt At An Interpretation Of What Swedish People Might Sound Like In English, But Only If The C-Grade Actors Surpressed The Actual Swedish Accent They Might Actually Have. There was no commitment by the voice-actors, or bond to what actually happened on screen.

Back home, I emailed the Labia and complained in the embarrasingly pompous way I reserve for record labels who don't want to / cannot make their music available to South Africans on eMusic due to antiquated distribution rights. In my email, I complained that nowhere did it say (on their website, emails, programme) that a dubbed version would be shown, and that it was the last thing I would expect from the Labia.

This morning the owner phoned me to apologise and explained that while he personally agrees, there is a teenage demographic of potential viewers who want to see the movie, but don't want to read, so the cinema experimented by showing the dubbed version, and apparently, ticket sales increased.

I protested, requesting that if that's the case, it should be made clear to anyone buying a ticket what version they would see, as I would not have gone to the cinema had I known it was dubbed.

The conversation lasted a few minutes and in the end we had a great discussion about movies in general, the movie itself, the issue of subbing and dubbing and what to do (my suggestion was show both with clear communication when which will be shown). We both agreed that for us the original language version with subtitles is preferable, but I can imagine for a business like Labia it is a constant challenge to keep both the Orange and Kloof street theatres open, and in this case they experimented given the nature of the movie and its possible attraction to emo teenagers, which subsequently attracted two complaints (I'm glad I was not alone).

We will probably go and watch the movie again when the Swedish version is shown, and I think it will be a totally different experience. The experience also made me realise I need to go watch movies at the Labia more often, otherwise it will become just another big budget, boring place. Receiving the call and having a great chat with someone clearly passionate about movies and building a more experimental movie culture was a pleasant surprise.

And let's face it, watching a movie accompanied by the best date balls in town, a glass of red wine, and ample leg room is worth something.

Traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital for small town in South Africa

A story in the local newspaper of Heidelberg, Gauteng, caught my attention today:

"Traditional medicine, pharmaceutical plant to be included in new
Meiqui Hospital"

"Alternative healing hospital will boast pharmaceutical factory and
greenhouse plant for traditional herbs"

-- Heidelberg/Nigel Heraut, 20 Januarie 2010

The newspaper, the Heidelberg/Nigel Heraut reports the Lesedi Local Municipality was contacted by a Dr. Chia-Yuan (Richard) Yeh, who runs the Fishers Hill Clinic in Primrose (no website, but listed under "acupuncture").

His team proposed to build the hospital near Heidelberg. The hospital will "serve as a university hospital" for "nursing and medical staff". It will also include accommodation for "students", "a pharmaceutical factory and greenhouse plant where herbs they use will be grown".

Now this is great news for a small town like Heidelberg. Not only will the hospital use Traditional Chinese Medicine, such as acupuncture and herbal cures, but also traditional African methods.

Why am I concerned?

I'm asking myself how a small town like Heidelberg can support a six-story "university hospital" and I'm wondering which "university" this would be.

Traditional Chinese Medicine is quite controversial and although not as overtly bogus as homeopathy and Reiki, is widely believed to be mostly effective because of the placebo effect.

But I don't feel concerned because of the implication for medicine, as such. Something about this project just has my alarm bells ringing, and I hope the relevant authorities look closely at the licensing and regulatory implications of this.

The last thing South Africans, with our stupidly high incidence of HIV/AIDS and TB need is another quack-solution packaged as a "university hospital" right in the middle of an area where funeral homes outnumber clinics about four to one.

Looking at the photo in the newspaper, it looks like this "hospital", with its six floors, will be significantly larger than the two existing hospitals in Heidelberg combined. How does that work, from an economic point of view?

A few points in the story contribute to my scepticism:

• Apparently Witbank, a small city east of Johannesburg, was considered, but "no suitable venue" could be found. What does Witbank know, that Heidelberg doesn't?

• The local municipality is "excited that this project will create many job opportunities". Apart from the construction period, what opportunities will exist? Since they will "train staff and nurses" where will these students work in South Africa? They won't be qualified to work in conventional hospitals, surely? Where will the students come from? Where will their qualifications be accredited, outside of this "hospital"?

• A little sentence in the report also saddened me: "Apparently quite a few national high-profile politicians attend Dr. Yeh's clinic." (The existing one in Primrose.) Is it there they learn about the value of post-coital showers?

• There is no mention in the article of the value of the proposed development, but Mr Banzi Majola, Executive Manager of Development and Planning at the Lesedi Local Municipality said that they "believe in partnerships that benefit the community." Partnerships? How much of a partner is the LLM in this venture? Do they have a stake in the venture itself? We don't know yet.

• Finally, the name of the "hospital" will be the Meiqui Hospital. I guess its based on the Wade-Giles romanisation used in Taiwan, because I can't think of a pinyin (the official mainland Chinese romanisation) character "qui". The nearest I can think is Meiqi, meaning (probably) "comfortable". That's all cool, but how will South Africans pronounce "Meiqui", I ask you. You got it: "Meidjie".

Alternative healing isn't necessarily a bad thing, I know, but by now most of the benefits of traditional Chinese medicines have been incorporated into conventional, scientifically developed medicines, that can be produced more effectively and used with more confidence because of the tight regulations imposed on the pharmaceutical industry in the West. As long as traditional medicine, Eastern or African, is subjected to the same, stringent regulations, there should be no problem.

At this stage I'd like to know much more about this project, and about Dr Richard Yeh and his plans for this "hospital". I'd like to know what "partnership" the LLM envisages here, and how it will benefit the sorely lagging local economy.

This could be a great thing, or another total failure of South African local administration.

And that's my theory.

Newsroom malaise

The good news is District 9 received 7 BAFTA nominations. The bad news is, the local sites are too lazy to find out for which categories.

Why is it that local news sites can never do that tiny extra bit to customise news agency articles? Are they not allowed to? I don't think so, I've seen the same article in shorter or longer versions. Why not in the article linked to, report on the other categories District 9 was also nominated for apart from Best Director, before just copying and pasting it into the feed? I know it's one google away for me too, if I wish to find out, but I am roaming on 3G thank you very much and wasting bandwidth by complaining here about it.

I've seen it happen with travel survey results as well, they are picked up due to the mention of Cape Town or South Africa or some restaurant being ranked highly, and the blurb or press release republished as is, without finding out the exact details. It would IMVVHO add to the quality and relevance of articles.

Pet hate of the day material, I know.

Do Chinese people eat babies?

The respected apologist website EastSouthWestNorth recently translated a blog post from a Chinese forum about Google's search recommendations. It's a fascinating insight into Chinese paranoia, and I'm afraid, yes, that's what I'll dismiss it as.

The gist of it is that if you start typing searches, Google presents a dropdown list based, ostensibly, on popular searches and available material run through some mysterious algorithm.

The forum poster discovered that if you type "Chinese" Google responds with a list of suggestions that look like this:

The poster then uses Google Trends, in China, to support a claim that Google itself rigs up these responses. Who knows? Read it for yourself, and try it out. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. I just want to point out that Google Trends in China might not be using the same history database as Google Trends in other countries, since news sources seem to be locally aggregated.

What I also want to point out is that the sacred Chinese are not alone. They might be happy to know Japanese people don't have souls, and are thought to have similar culinary habits.

The Irish are apparently inscrutable:

The English have nice smiles:

The Indians have noses, is what I think it means:

The Koreans are rude, insomniac pet eaters:

The president of America has a chain and great music:

Google itself is pretty threatening:



It's a total myth that Western people are scared of being dominated by China:

There's no such thing as a stupid question:

And, this one leaves no ambiguity:

I'm sorry, but I think what happens here is the same as what I did in the title of this post: People ask questions. That's what search engines tend to get quite often. Google collates the seperate words. This post will in the future add one to the "Chinese people eat babies" meme. And if you're wondering about it and go type: "Do Chinese people eat babies?" into Google, you'll add one. Also, if you type: "Why do ignorant imperialist running pigdog west think chinese people eat babies?" you'll add another one.

And pretty soon all your China's will type it, and their China's and their China's China's.

Goodbye global warming.

Finally: Google isn't being evil here. Search engines are descriptive: they demostrate people's stupidity.

I have an idea for a movie: Wit Tier 2010

Picture it: jungle, somewhere in Africa. A bunch of evil poachers are trying to threaten a peaceful village into revealing the whereabouts of the legendary Elephant graveyards of Quasi-Quasi. They are armed, vicious, barbaric and even cruel (yes, even that), but just when all hope is lost, when no-one can help, in their most dire moment of need, blah blah, help comes, in the form of a white man, dressed in leather and, I dunno, more leather. Bringing the village together he devises a cunning plan, involving a cunning deceit, cunningly convincing the poachers that they are surrounded by a whole platoon of heavily armed government soldiers intent on smokin’ them, or some such.

The poachers flee, vowing never to return, and eventually take up lawn bowling in New-Zealand where they get convicted of match-fixing years later. But this is not our concern.

Or concern is this “white man of the jungle” who moves like a tiger and thinks like a very, very smart tiger. The natives call him “The White Tiger” and there are rumours of him floating all over the jungles of Zaire (note to editor: verify jungles in Zaire, otherwise change to bush, veld, or savannah accordingly.)

We, as viewers of this cinematic work are convinced of some kind of mid-sixties Tarzan scenario: white man lost in bush, wearing leather bits, being all phantom and legend.

Until a BBC camera crew arrives and hunts down the man and reveals to him that it is now in fact 2010 (or 2020… movies take a long time to develop) and his South African army unit has been sent home for decades now, the Angolan bush war is over and he can go home to Pretoria to live in the new non-racial South Africa ruled by what was at the time of his disappearance an evil terrorist organization, etc. etc.

Hilarity ensues: Crocodile Dundee meets Goodbye Lenin, and if I’m directing a little Debbie does Dallas thrown in.

Modern life is a challenge for our White Tiger, who has, obviously, fallen in love with the BBC journalist (played by Megan Fox, or Judie Densch, I’m not sure yet). He tries to contact his family: his wife’s remarried a black guy called Sipho, and his son is gay and his sister is a drug addicted prostitute living in Saudi-Arabia.

Yet, he tries to fit into this world. Remember, he was living in the jungle, protecting a bunch of black villagers from evildoers, so he’s not racist at heart, just a little at kidney possibly. He tries his damndest, and finds, through many misadventures involving the interwebs, microwave ovens, DVDs and other relatively new things, that his biggest problem is with the whites, the Afrikaners, the Volk he has literally dedicated his life to defending, who have all turned into nansypansy pinko liberal commies who sold out to the demons of money and that other demon whose name I forget.

He finds they were not worth defending: they rolled over and died, giving up their principles and their traditional humourous photo books without as much as a whimper.

But the point should be clear: he’s not pissed off because they accepted black governance. No. I mean, NO! He’s pissed because they’re not helping. They’re just bitter whenwes intent on undermining the immense goodwill shown to them by some 45 million people who should by rights hate their guts.

The plot gets sketchy around here: Hollywood demands romance, so for some chick related reason… I expect he (wrongly) comes to the conclusion he cannot fit into the BBC chick’s world, and decides to pack it up and disappear back to his jungle.

Oh. My. God. What does he find there?

You guessed it: lawn-bowling has lost its timeless allure for the poachers, and they’re back, meaner and murderouser than ever, wielding bigger guns, shorter skirts and possibly Afrikaans music with which to terrorise the locals once again.

Now, armed with a hairpin and a Sunday Times crossword puzzle our hero devises a heroic defence for the villagers, and in the process reveals himself to them as a human, not the supernatural mythical figure he used to be. They realise now he was one of them white South Africans, and it takes some expertly directed montages to have them accept his help again. Also, desperation plays a role.

At the height of the battle, in such a way as to possibly undo the whole effort, who should appear suddenly and dramatically? If you’re thinking “romantic love interest” you’re exactly right. That’s how formulaic I want this to be.

The girl pitches up, possibly parachuting out of a plane, leaping off a passing train or ... oh, oh! thrown off the back of a bad guy’s truck since he actually went and kidnapped her somewhere. Suddenly links are made: the bad guys are evil white property developers from South Africa (mayhap funded by a Hong Kong triad bankrolled by the Beijing government). They want to buy up the jungle to build a golf course/soccer stadium/presidential palace/mall/recording studio.

And the BBC crew being sent in was a ruse by the evildoers to capture and remove the White Tiger.

In a touching scene round about now the White Tiger learns that the villagers have never given a shit about his skin colour, and has accepted him as something fundamentally African. That’s because he’d become a story, and “a story can only be told by the drums”. I don’t know what that means either, but boy, is it profound.

So, the final, desperate showdown begins: Tiger, chick and villagers pitted against poachers with guns.

[Insert smart bit written by smart person to explain how they win, but it’s smart.]

They win: many, many stuntmen later.

The jungle is saved, the title deeds are secured in a Swiss Bank.

The country that rejected the White Tiger suddenly sees in him a hero, a cash cow. So he goes ahead and flips them off, deciding to stay in the jungle where he is now revered as a revered person.

Except, change that last bit not to be too much like Avatar. If there is a remote possibility to include half-naked blue alien girls, that’s okay, though.

Soundtrack by Christophe Beck and Yo La Tengo. Special effects by WETA.

Directed by Ridley Scott. Starring some guy who doesn’t have a mullet.

I only hope whoever writes the screenplay is a little wit tier than me.

Bafana Bafana is ranked 73rd. What do we expect?

I once wrote a post about rugby. I might as well write a post about soccer.

Bafana Bafana coach Joel Santana is being pursued and villified as THE ONE. The one and only reason our soccer team cannot win matches. On the weekend, they again lost to Norway, and the talk is that the three-man team to assess Bafana is more of a firing squad.

The World Cup is getting closer, and our fans are getting angry (and apparently the players too). "Fire the coach!" we hear, "he's useless, and is just here for the money!" (which is stupid, even if you don't like the man, you can see he is committed and doing the best he can).

What everyone ignores is that our national soccer team has been in a long, long slide to mediocrity, if the FIFA ranking is a yardstick:


Santana inherited a team that's been in a downward spiral for almost 12 years. Look at the graph:. In 1996 South Africa was ranked 16th - it's highest ever. Twelve years later, and the team's average ranking for the year 2008 is 76, and for 2007 it was 77. They've been hovering around 70/72/73 for the last few months of 2009.

So what is frustrating is that we have a team, AND administration AND a coach that cannot seem to get Bafana out of the 70's. All of them, none of them. There seems to be no upward trend, no movement in the right direction, even if we're not sliding either.

We must be very honest with ourselves: we are not world beaters. There will be no fairy tale. If they scrape through to the 2010 second round it will be by showing the commitment they did in the Confed Cup, but Bafana Bafana are not a world soccer force anymore. It's difficult to accept that, living in a country with very successful rugby and cricket teams, both Commonwealth-originated sports with a much smaller global following, and therefore a much smaller competition base.

If it was a business, to turn something like that ugly graph around will take...I guess... at least three years. Three years of doing things completely different, in a different national soccer environment, with different players and a different coach, and then you'll still be lucky. What do we do? We blame the current coach - the last in a long line of failures - for everything. And to turn the knife, we use as proof of how useless he is, his record of losing seven out of eight friendly internationals (as the world's 73rd ranked country) against Ireland (38th), Germany (4th), Serbia (13th), Spain (twice) (2nd), Brazil (1st), Norway (43rd)!

If we won any of those games, it would have been an upset. A miracle. That's what rankings tell us: over time, by winning and losing so many games, scoring so many goals, your team's relative strength is xx. In your case 73rd.

I say it again. We are not world beaters.

And next time Bafana Bafana play, I will support them and shout for them and swear at them and hope they can prove me wrong.

Urumqi geweld en China se etniese probleme

By 'n speelgoedfabriek in die suide van China loop 'n vroulike werker 'n donker kamer binne. Sy gewaar skielik twee mans. Hulle is Uyghurs. Mens kannie Uyghurs vertrou nie. Hulle lyk anders, praat 'n ander taal, eet ander kos. Baie van hulle is diewe en molesteerders en terroriste. Sy skrik haar lam en gee 'n gil. Maar die mans doen niks. Sy voel 'n bietjie skaam as sy uithardloop. 'n Paar van haar kolegas kom nader om te kyk wat gebeur het. Sy’s miskien 'n bietjie stadig om te verduidelik, miskien 'n bietjie verleë om die waarheid te erken. Voor sy tot verhaal kom sien die mans ook die Uyghurs, wat self kom kyk het wat aangaan.

Een vrou, twee Uyghur mans, en jare van wantroue: die Chinese mans sit als bymekaar en kom tot die verkeerde gevolgtrekking. 'n Geveg breek uit. Die geweld kring uit. Ander Uyghur trekarbeiders hoor daarvan en kom help. Nog Chinese werkers word ingeroep. Die strate van Shaoguan word skielik 'n bendegeveg. En met die spoed van geweld in China is dit ook skielik verby. Twee Uyghurs is dood, en beskuldigings begin oor en weer vlieg. Die Uyghurs glo die regering wil die Han-Chinese beskerm, die Han-Chinese glo die regering wil die Uyghurs beskerm in die naam van “harmonie”.

'n Paar dae later kom die vrou se storie eers uit: niks het gebeur nie, sê sy, maar baie glo haar nie. Dit klink te veel soos die regering wat 'n storie opmaak om konflik te vermy.

Shaoguan is in Guangdong Provinsie (beter bekend as Kanton in die Weste), die hiper-industriële deel van China net noord van Hong Kong, waar trekarbeiders amper meer is as die plaaslike bevolking. Of die vrou se storie waar is of nie, dit maak sin vir die Chinese regering om etniese konflik daar te probeer stilhou. Trekarbeiders regoor die land het in die afgelope dekade 'n slegte reputasie begin kry as diewe, verkragters, leeglêers en 'n bedreiging vir President Hu Jintao se “harmonieuse samelewing”. En Uyghurs het die slegste reputasie van almal.

Eenduisend agthonderd kilometer van Guangdong, in die Wilde Weste van China lê die kulturele hart van die Uyghur nasie, die “Outonome” provinsie van Xinjiang. Daar is verskillende interpretasies van hulle geskiedenis: die Chinese regering hou vol hulle het in die 8ste eeu na Christus die area ingestroom van die Midde Ooste, Kazakhstan en die Turkiese gebiede af. Argeologiese bewyse dui egter op 'n baie vroër oorsprong. Menslike oorskot van vier duisend jaar gelede toon kaukasiese [Caucasoid] eienskappe soos blonde hare en ligte oë, wat beslis nie met Han Chinese vereenselwig word nie. As jy wonder, soos ek, hoe argeoloë oogkleur kan bepaal, dit werk so: regoor die woesteinagtige binneland van Xinjiang is verskeie mummies gevind wat seremonieel begrawe is. In hulle oogkaste is daar gekleurde klippe geplaas, en die meeste hiervan was blou, maar soms groen of ligbruin.

Met die koms van Genghis Khan is die hele area ook opgeneem, nes aangrensende Tibet, in die Mongoolse Ryk. Die Mongoolse oorheersing het natuurlik met Koeblai Khan verander in die Yuan Dinastie, wat deur Chinese geskiedenis geabsorbeer is. Meeste Chinese sien daardie tydperk nie as 'n koloniale tydperk van Mongolië nie, maar eerder as dat China vir Mongolië oorgeneem het.

Nietemin, na die die val van die Yuan, en met die opkoms van NOG 'n koloniale heerskappy oor China deur die Manchus, is Xinjiang as 'n provinsie uitgeroep. Ander sal sê “geannekseer”. Xinjiang beteken “Nuwe Land” of “Nuwe Heerskappy”.

Die Uyghurs [uitgespeek in Engels: “Weeger”] is deel van die Turkiese nasies. Hulle is hoofsaaklik Moslem en praat 'n taal nou verwant aan Turks en Uzbek. Hulle gebruik die Arabiese skryfstelsel, nie die Chinese karakters van die res van China nie. Xinjiang is ook die enigste deel van die hele China wat 'n onoffisiële tydsone het omdat hulle so ver wes lê.

Meeste Uyghurs lyk op die oog af soos Midde-Oostelinge. In my tyd in China kon ek gereeld Han Chinese oortuig dat ek self 'n Uyghur is. 'n Besoek aan die hoofstad van die provinsie, Urumqi en die antieke [Silk Route] stad van Kashgar voel meer soos 'n toer deur ou Persië as soos enigiets in China. Die fliek The Kite Runner is trouens in Kashgar verfilm omdat dit die skrywer so sterk herinner het aan die Afghanistan van sy jeug.

In 1946 het Han Chinese 6% van die bevolking van Urumqi beslaan. Vandag is hulle die meerderheid daar, met soveel as 70%. Die Uyghurs is egter nog steeds die meerderheid in die ander stede van Xinjiang, veral in Kashgar. Soos die ander etniese minderhede van China is die Uyghurs nie onderhewig aan die “een kind beleid” nie. Dis egter 'n gemengde seëning, aangesien opvoeding so duur is. Han Chinese word gedwing om hulle uitgawes te beperk tot een kind en die minderhede bly in relatiewe armoede omdat hulle meer kinders versorg.

Op Sondag 5 Julie, in Urumqi, het ongeveer 300 Uyghurs 'n protesoptog begin vanaf die Groot Bazaar, 'n volgepakte, kleurryke winkelsentrum vol persiese tapyte en arabiese kurios. Die mense was ontevrede met die regering se behandeling van die straatgeveg in Shaoguan. Niemand weet hoe hierdie optog, wat deur 'n paar ooggetuies as “vreedsaam” beskryf is, skielik oorgegaan het in 'n volskaalse “pogrom” teen Han Chinese nie. Maar die elemente was daar: frustrasie met hulle status in hulle eie “land”, frustrasie met Han immigrasie, wantroue teenoor die regering, woede oor die beperkings op hulle geloof, en natuurlik armoede en ongeskooldheid.

Binne 'n uur het die optog gegroei na meer as 'n duisend mense, gewapen met messe, stokke en petrolbomme. Hulle het die polisie met klippe begin bestook, en die strate deur gejag op soek na Chinese mense en besighede. Hulle het op mense geskree in Uyghur en as hulle nie kon antwoord in hulle taal nie is hulle aangeval. Teen middernag was die strate vol dooies en honderde busse en karre was aan die brand.

Hierdie was geen fyn beplande politieke optog nie: dit was pure rassehaat, en die Han Chinese is op wreedaardige maniere doodgemaak.

Met Chinese TV-skerms vol prente van dooie en beseerde Han mense, het die Xinjiang Chinese begin praat van wraak. Dinsdag, met die strate vol weermaglede en polisiemanne, het duisende Han die strate ingevaar met stokke en planke op soek na Uyghurs. Hier blyk die Chinese regering se grootste sukses: 'n stuk briljante polisiëring. Die skares is aan alle kante omring deur die weermag, maar is versigtig toegelaat om 'n paar straatblokke op 'n slag in sirkels te marsjeer om al hulle woede en energie uit te werk. Die weermag het elke keer net voor 'n konfrontasie sou uitbreek effens teruggetrek en die skare hulle gang laat gaan, maar heeltyd afgesonder van die objek van hulle woede. Selfs gesoute Westerse joernaliste was vol lof vir die proffesionele en gedissiplineerde optreede van die Chinese weermag. Teen die middag is die vrede herstel.

Met die eerste geweld van Sondagaand was die regering se dodetal 156, met duisende beseer. Dinsdag se Han teenaanval het tot geen dood gelei nie. Die Chinese regering raak vinnig beter met hulle taktiek.

In kontras met die onluste in Tibet laasjaar, het hulle ook hulle media verhoudinge opgeskerp. Nasionale TV het onmiddelik toegang gekry om redelik openlik verslag te lewer. En oorsese joernaliste is teen Dinsdag al ingevlieg in groepe en toegelaat om binne redelike perke hulle gang te gaan. Dit wys op 'n regering wat uitgeslape raak teenoor die moderne wêreld se informasie-kanale. Hulle is in hierdie geval ook vol selfvertroue dat die feite vir hulself sal spreek: volgens hulle is dit duidelik dat daar 'n wreedaardige, kriminele aanval was deur Uyghurs op Han Chinese.

Hierin lê hulle ondergang. Dis klaarblyklik 'n oorlogverklaring op 'n deel van hulle bevolking. In die Chinese media is daar geen herkenning vir die Uyghurs se probleme nie. Die feit dat hulle in opstand kom word op 'n kolonialistiese manier gesien as blote ondankbaarheid. “Ons doen dan soveel vir hulle. Ons het alles hier gebou,” kla een Chinese inwoner van Xinjiang. In die openbare mitologie is daar geen plek vir outentieke ongelukkigheid van die Uyghurs af nie, net soos Tibet se strewe ook nie aanvaar word nie. China het baie goed geraak met spin: hulle verstaan die krag van die Internet, veral na die impak van Twitter op die Iran-onluste. Sulke dienste is op die oomblik nog geblok regoor China. Hulle het goed geleer uit die “kleur” rewolusies van oos Europa. Hulle verstaan hoe om hulle etniese konflik onder die tapyt in te vee.

Maar soos Tibet en Xinjiang wys, hulle het geen idee hoe om die onderliggende probleme aan te spreek nie.

Nou kan ons uitsien na 'n bekgeveg tussen China en die Uyghurs, veral die uitgewekene leier van die World Uyghur Congress, Rebiya Kadeer, wat die spanning tussen China en die Dalai Lama soos 'n kinderkrans lessie gaan laat lyk. Betrek hierby die ou aantygings van partydigheid deur die Westerse Media en inmenging deur die CIA, en jy het die resep vir nog 'n paar jaar van ongemaklikheid. Nou is daar nog 'n paar mense wat ons nie mag nooi Suid-Afrika toe nie – nie as ons wil aanhou handel dryf met die grootste ekonomie op aarde nie.

(Artikel gespike uit Rapport)

Askies, SABC, but just how dumb do you think we are?

Askies is an Afrikaans/Zulu sitcom on SABC2, Friday nights. It is directed by Andre Odendaal and Josh Rous. It is the worst waste of money the SABC has ever perpetrated.

 I just watched it and I must say I've never felt so insulted before in my life. It is the worst piece of crap I have ever seen on South African TV, bar none, and I've seen some serious bullshit, including CCTV9 in China.

Where in God's name do these people learn how to act? Have they ever watched their own show after it had been taped? Do they understand how stupid their over-acting makes this country look? Do they think we are retarded? Does ANYBODY in the world think that kind of thing is funny? How many rhetorical questions laced with exasperation can I string together?

The premise of the show is that they want to do something in all eleven official languages. Holy shit. The only nearly realistic thing they can do then is write a speech for Jacob Zuma. No-one in this country EVER hears all eleven languages in a month, unless, of course, you try to hear all eleven official languages in a month. Can be done, but just isn't.

So there's a bunch of young people living together (I assume) and someone slightly older seems to be teaching them Zulu. This happens to be a white woman, and that's pretty cool, but ultimately when is this show actually entertaining... and as I watched it I also got a very strong feeling of helplessness: what can we do about this kind of crap?

It just struck me that with DSTV everywhere, SABC is just out there floating in a space of zero-feedback. No-one gives a toss about SABC anymore. And when there's something so utterly talentless and weak on TV, SABC has almost no way of knowing it. The only people who'd give feedback are the very ones busy making the next piece of shit. 

I truly need to know who made the decision to air this show. I presume someone had to watch a pilot episode, or read a script at the very least, before making a decision. Who was that moron? And how can so many people work on something and NOT see that it is completely devoid of any merit?

And the fucking typical South African theatre-trained over-the-top pretentious acting! The kind where you can see a mile away that this next bit I'm going to say now is going to be a joke, and then when they've said it they make sure somehow that the audience knows the bit they've just said WAS the joke, BY LAUGHING AT THE JOKE. And with joke, I mean, seriously, people say "Hey, howsit", and they play the goddamn laugh track.

My mother taught me long ago that swearing is bad and people only do it when they've run out of argument. Well, I have run out of argument. I am ashamed and embarrassed by the SABC, and by these brainless freaks who somehow rise to the top in the SA entertainment industry and presume to entertain us with their infantile falling about. Even fart jokes seem sophisticated compared to "Askies".

I don't agree with my mother about the swearing, though. When I swear I'm substituting a generalised emotion for what could have been a truly personal insult. It's the difference between shaking my fist at the sky and throwing a brick through your window.

So instead of doing the latter, I can only reiterate: you fuckers who made Askies, you are pathetic, brainless idiots. Unless you know perfectly well how bad your show is, but is just doing it because you know you can sell it to the brainless zombies who run the SABC and you're milking the cash cow for all it's worth to beef up your CVs before you bugger-off to England. In that case, good on ya mates.

In the mean time, what can we do to get standards up to scratch again in this country? The talent and the facilities exist... why can't we get it right?