René Roberts

Color me irritated. Sometimes, I’m dumbfounded by how unbelievably ignorant people can be. How did you manage to make it this far, sir? The fact that you can tie your own shoelaces astounds me. I like the idea that we live in a world where there’s a tiny little space just for you. All I need is for you to take up that space elsewhere. I don’t want to breathe the same air as you, because it’s come to my attention that stupidity does in fact spread.

So yes, you drive a Land Rover and you do your grocery shopping at Pick n Pay. You have an old, outdated South African flag mounted above your patio door where you braai boerewors. Your submissive, depressed wife makes “braaibroodjies” every Saturday as you watch the “Springbokke” take on the “Kakies”. You refuse to listen to “Radio Jakaranda”, because they don’t condone racist behaviour by filling the pockets of certain artists who are clearly still stuck in the old Republic, where a black man had to carry around a dompas. You, my friend, are an ignorant imbecile.

I say this, because you are of the impression that Pick n Pay will shed a tear now that you’ve decided to shop elsewhere. You already can’t go to Woolies, remember? Checkers supports Nataniel and he is no racist and you hate him for a whole bunch of other reasons. Spar, I hope you’re stocking up with boerewors and Ouma beskuit. The Volk is coming.

Buddy, I wish you had the mental capacity to understand. I’ll try to keep it simple : Nobody cares.

Do you understand that if we erase the transaction where you bought that Land Rover last year, the annual financial statements of that company won’t even need to be reprinted? Do you get that, as a percentage of their turnover, you are so completely insignificant that the boring old accountants won’t even raise there unibrows? You’re not even a speck in their universe my friend. It must be killing you.

What is more infuriating is that the one guy inciting these idiots, is actually quite intelligent. Or so we thought.

I get it. I was raised in an Apartheid ridden South Africa. I grew up believing that there needed to be some extent of segregation from people of colour. Did it give rise to difficulties in my life? Hell, yes. Certain hate speech pops up in my head when a taxi driver cuts in front of me and threatens to bash in my mirror with a hammer that he carries around in his vehicle for this sole purpose. Did growing up in this bigoted society make me stupid though? Hell, no. The biggest perk of growing up is having an opinion. An informed one. Admitting that the entire idea of Apartheid was immoral and absolutely ridiculous is perfectly fine. It doesn’t make me less of a South African.

I still get goosies when our rugby team takes to the field. The difference is that I don’t just join in when they do the third verse. I love it in its totality. I still listen to local music. I just choose to support the more open minded, honourable artists such as Karen Zoid, the late Johannes Kerkorrel and Zolani Mahola. As an avid reader, I support our local writers. I just prefer spending money on literature by even-tempered and peaceable people such as Jackie Nagtegaal, Koos Kombuis and Nataniel.

Stupid, I am not. I know a few things.

I know that Pick n Pay doesn’t give a flying shit if I buy from them. It won’t make a dent in Mr Ackerman’s pocket.

I know that Land Rover feels the same way.

I know that people are inherently pissed off and it takes one conceited fool to fuel the fire.

I know that there are no victors in war.

I know that my little blog post won’t prevent a single fight.

I know I had fun bitching anyway.