JONKER, MACHANICK AND THE
BLESSED MESSIAH
In this Style: 10/6
DEAR READER,
Regrettably, there is not all that much to report in this chronicle except
that times are hard at
On the Great Cover Up Front, Webalizer stats shows that there have been
6,686 visits to the Urban Safari Club website and 14,328 ‘pages’ have been read.
Not too bad so far for
Well anyway Dear Reader, enough of that for the
time being, let’s see what we can find to write about in this chronicle shall
we? Hmmm…. Let me see now…....
NARCISSUS
REVISITED:
Dear Reader, Lo!! I
will proclaim to the world the deeds of the Mighty Lord Marius Jonker. This is
the man to whom all things are known; this is the Security Manager who knows
the countries of the world. He is wise, he sees mysteries and knows secret
things, he has brought us a tale of a Murder Conspiracy that is engraved on the
tableau of the Internet.
When the gods created Gil…er.. I mean the Great Lord Marius, they gave
him a perfect body. Shamas the glorious sun endowed him with beauty, Adad the
god of the storm endowed him with courage. Two thirds they made him god and one
third man. These great gods made his beauty perfect, surpassing all others, none
were his equal.
When reviewing his assembled troops, their shields - burnished to a
lustrous hue - allowed the Great Lord Marius to parade up and down for hours
and hours whilst gazing in adoration at his magnificent image. Verily I say
unto thee Dear
Reader, the universe doth revolve around
the Great Lord Marius.
Why, behold, the very sun doth shine out of his…. Hey Brock,
just a minute! I don’t remember this part of the Epic at all! Oh… er…Hi Coach! Um… er… a new
tablet surfaced just recently near a dig in Mesopotamia on the Euphrates…
Ok. Here goes. Dear Reader,
More news on this celestial Jonker chappie. My spy,
in the parcel sorting room at FedX, reports that, last week a dodgy looking dude
pitched at the collection counter wearing wrap-around shades, a false moustache
and a pioneer beard. He then proffered the ID of Marius Jonker and collected a mail
order “Big John” enlargement kit. A week later, one of my office cleaner spies
at
Doubtless, on being confronted with this evidence, Jonker,
Security Manager and International Rugby Referee, will refuse to take the polygraph
and will claim that the Viagra bottle is a plant and that he only takes free
range herbal tonics sanctified by his nutritionist - ex consilio medicorum as it were. However, in future rugby matches,
when forming a scrum, those ruff n’ tuff rugger buggers might evince a modicum
of trepidation as the panting, wild-eyed, Viagra powered Jonker hovers menacingly
behind them. Play on chaps!!
BLUE FLAME
CHAMPION:
Dear Reader, Let us turn now to that other marvel
of genetic engineering – Prince of Darkness – aka Richard Machanick - the erstwhile
Executive HR Manager of Bell Equipment / John Deere. This repugnant member of
the Urban Safari Club, a classic example of criminality, is also a fugitive
from justice, having taken unlawful flight to avoid prosecution.
The
creature sought – and attained - sanctuary in the Midlands after fleeing across
the border of Zululand into Natal and he is currently working his devious black
art as HR Manager of Shurlock / Control Instruments in Pietermaritzberg. A notorious
frotteur, he has been banned from every single furniture store in the Midlands and
his mug shot is pinned up in the security kiosks of furniture stores as far
away as Durban – 80 clicks away.
Anyway
Dear Reader, I bet that there is something
about this chappie that you did not know and that is that, for three years running
(2001 – 2004) this sterling specimen was the reigning Southern African Blue Flame
Champ! Honest Injun!! This formidable stalwart took on all comers and walked
off with the highly coveted, gold inlaid and diamond encrusted Blue Flamer Platinum
Cup three years in a row - and well deserved it was as well!
Co-sponsored
by AFROX and AVGAS he set the unbeaten All
Unfortunately
the Machanick chappie’s reign as Blue Flame champ came to an ignominious end
the following year when he was disqualified during the semifinals for unlawfully
firing a dangerous projectile into orbit (narrowly missing the Space Station) but
that’s just old age catching up and …. BROCK!! What on earth do you think you’re doing?? You are supposed
to be writing a respectable chronicle for a general audience not for your old army
buddies! Oh... er… yeah... um.... ah…sorry about that Coach.
I guess my attention wandered a bit there. I promise that I will pay more
attention to what I’m doing… seriously, it won’t happen again. Honest. Hmm. Yes, very well then but Brock,
please do pay more attention in future, after all, we do have journalistic
ethic to consider as well you know.
Well Dear
Reader, this time round there is actually
not all that much to report from the Urban Safari Club at
THE OPIUM
OF THE MASSES:
Dear Reader, I was under the impression, that,
when the Taliban was running the show in
Dear Reader, Judging by the tender caresses that
the patrolling Crusaders afford the bulbous poppy in passing, I have reached
the conclusion that they are in
And
then Dear Reader, Horrors!!
That cheeky upstart,
So
Dear Reader, if this is indeed the case (that
the Crusaders are in Afghanistan to protect the poppy crop) then it follows
that the most nefarious drug lords on the planet have somehow or other managed
to hire some serious muscle to protect their operation – which would have been
of no small interest to the late Pablo Escobar.
Just
musing mind you, but is it possible that Afghanistan President Hamid Karzai has
a dozen or so bank accounts stuffed with American taxpayer’s dollars (consulting
and management fees, of course). And is it just possible that he has his own
transport company - Air
Just
asking, that’s all – because recently this Karzai chappie implored the
Kyrgyzstan government not to close the US Air Force base at Manas - that freights
about 200 containers a week in and out of Afghanistan – and about which,
Kyrgyzstan’s Communist Party’s Iskakh Musaliyev stated, “It is clear that they
will not be transporting peaches”.
Huh?
Peaches? Why not? If you have a restaurant chain in the
Phew!
Nothing too serious that time Dear
Reader, hope the Coach didn’t spot it. Right, back to
What,
with the shortage of suicidal muleteers who are prepared to cart the opium over
the mountains to market in Pakistan - whilst dodging Hell Fire missiles fired
at them by CIA drones, and the ever keen SEAL’s in their OP’s still looking for
Bin Laden (“Hey Sarge, That guy across the valley with the donkeys looks
vaguely familiar”. “Right! Take no chances Joe, call in the B52’s”). So Dear Reader, as you can see, with the cartels
scrapping amongst themselves, trading can get a little hectic up there at the
In
the meantime, to overcome some of these petty annoyances, the Mullahs have sought
an “accommodation” with the fat-cat oil sheiks across the water. Tread carefully
here Dear Reader, for, on the
map, the left side is the Arabian Gulf and on the right side it’s the
Also,
it is neither appropriate nor wise to use the phrase “went groveling cap in
hand” (or any other such perceived flippancy) when referring to the divine mission
of Mullahs. Fatwas are not to be taken lightly, so, erring on the side of
caution, I have just gone back and changed the “m” in Mullah to upper case –
one can never be too careful with these chaps you know.
Anyway
Dear Reader, the Taliban’s business strategy is
to pay the green thumb poppy agriculturalists the bucks up front for their crops
– a captive market so to speak and, come harvest time, the poppy grower carts his
crop around to the local heroin lab and the Taliban then pays the poppy grower
for the next year’s harvest. Now, to combat this filthy, low down capitalist
trick, the great Think Tank of the American Democratic Party has come up with a
counter strategy that is brilliant in its conception and simplicity itself in
its ease of application. They decided that, to foil the pernicious Taliban,
they are going to pay the poppy growers not
to plant their poppies in the first place!! How fiendishly clever!!
However
Dear Reader, there is just one small flaw in
this plan: As sure as there are cuddly little Siberian Marmots gamboling on the
Mongolian steppes, the Afghans are going to take the Taliban dollars and the American taxpayers dollars and then go right ahead and plant their poppies.
I know that this is a very difficult concept for the faraway American Democrats
to understand but logically the Afgan
poppy grower has to follow this
course of action - and it really is not too difficult to understand the reason
for this, as I will explain.
You
see Dear Reader, It’s like this. Should an American
army patrol accidentally stumble upon a luckless Afghan poppy grower - who is illegally
in possession of a blooming poppy field or two - and he is unable to explain why he took US taxpayers bucks
and then welshed on the deal, well, at worst he is going to get roughed up. He
will probably see his turban unravel as it goes bouncing down the mountain side
and his beloved poppies will get zapped with Agent Orange but other than that,
he should come out of the encounter in fairly reasonable shape but more
pertinently – he will still be in the clear with the Taliban.
However,
should he have taken Taliban bucks and
Crusaders bucks and not have planted
his crop, well then, of a certainty, a couple of AK toting Taliban enforcers
are going to pitch and want to know why he took the Boss’s money and then welshed
on the deal. Well Dear Reader, the
luckless Afghan ex-poppy grower will then know that new tenants will shortly be
moving into his cosy little adobe hut while he and his family will be attending
a banquet with Aegypius Machus - the European Black Vulture.
This
fine feathered chappie, an avian epicurean of note, will leave off loitering in
his favourite thermal and head post-haste for the awaiting repast. Alighting in
a barely controlled rush, he will then perform the perfunctory danse macabre - to the accompaniment of much
raucous cawing and the excited flapping of wings. Decorum satisfied, he will then
proceed to completely forget his table manners and rush forward to gorge
himself on the delectable fare provided for him by the American Democratic
Party.
So
Dear Reader, as you can see, contrary to
current Democratic reasoning, Afghan poppy growers are not as stupid as they
are presumed to be, and, as for their unethical business practices, well, morality
and ethics do not come into it, because, at the end of the day the Qur’an says
that it is quite acceptable to rip off the godless infidels. So Donkey Party,
do not waste the American taxpayers money – rather give the bucks to the DEA.
Talking
of which Dear Reader, What on
earth must the customs and drug enforcement agencies around the world think of
this carry on? Indeed, what does Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise agency think
of all this - or for that matter the American’s Drug Enforcement Agency? In my
naivety I assumed that, as it is your own country, then you are entitled to
plant whatever you like – turnips, apples, poppies, coca etc, you know, willing
seller - willing buyer and all that, after all, no one tells the capitalists – such
as America and Britain - what they can and cannot plant - or farm (discounting
of course, a spot of EU agricultural skullduggery).
Further,
I also thought, that it is the duty of a country, such as
Now
Dear Reader, all of a sudden, along comes
THE
BLESSED MESSIAH:
Dear Reader, The Blessed Messiah’s pilgrimage
has come to an end and he has returned home – and a more revolting display of obsequiousness
has yet to be witnessed. It was an absolutely repulsive business. Wherever his
plane touched down it was greeted by these disgusting, self-abasing, toadying
politicians who suddenly lost all self-discipline and, tongues outstretched, rushed,
clawing and fighting to lick his…Brock!! Steady on now!!
Oh,
come on Coach, you saw it as well – it was an obscene business. As soon as he
stepped off the plane and presented they all charged forward - vying with each other
to be the first to pay homage – lick-lick, slurp. The wonder is that there were
no stampede fatalities - it was absolutely sickening! Yes Brock, point taken. I‘m certainly
not going to dispute this issue with you. It just so happens that I am also of
the opinion that it was a very poor show and, at best, a most unbecoming
display of what now passes for statesmanship.
Coach,
I mean, really, the last time I saw anything like this was a National
Geographic program featuring the African Wild Dog where, every time one of the dogs
suddenly arrived home from the bush, the rest of the pack would, tails a-wagging,
rush over and lick...Yes
yes Brock, you are quite right. Heaven alone knows what these political creatures
see when they look in the mirror every morning as, noticeably, pride and
self-respect are completely absent. A very sorry state of affairs I’m afraid to
say.
Actually
Coach, the only ones who managed to hang onto their dignity in all of this were
the Russkies. Medvedev and Putin must have watched with mounting horror as, trumpets
blaring and cymbals crashing, the Blessed Messiah’s cavalcade pitched at the
Kremlin. Putin’s body language was revealing though and I would gladly have parted
with a mink stole and a bag of roubles to hear what he thought about this lark.
Meanwhile the rest of the Russkies stayed home, glued to the soccer match on the
TV - not bothering to give this carnival the courtesy of acknowledgement – and
rightly so. Hooray for the Russkies.
Anyway,
Dear Reader down to
Here,
he visited an old slaver fort and later, his black half gave a speech about
man’s inhumanity to man etc, and then his white half castigated all those darkies
who had got up to mischief in their democratic elections and were now operating
tyrannical regimes. Tut-tut.
Anyway,
the Blessed Messiah then hastily boarded Air Force 1 and, casting one last
uneasy look down at the old slave fort, he heaved a shuddering sigh and headed
back to the land of the free – and onto the next stage of fulfilling his
campaign promise of “.. bringing back to
Meanwhile, back at the ranch….
Dear
Reader, Down at this end of the dark
continent, ominous rumblings have been emanating from the recently elected president
and his main backers - the communist get–rich-quick Congress of South African
Trade Unions (COSATU). Apparently, the big honey pot is empty and, being total
non-producers, total end-users, they are now giving some serious consideration
to nationalizing all the mines.
Yes indeed Comrade
Reader, this criminal property grab
will, of course, increase productivity, boost profits and… and… and pass the
bananas please. Depriving other men of their property comes quite naturally to
them as, living in the immediate present, their desires must be instantly
gratified – like coveting, then stealing other people’s cattle from the kraal a
couple of hills over – no change there Dear Reader – and it
gets even better.
It would appear that the previous National
Police Commissioner - Jackie Selebi (ex- Head of Interpol) is facing charges of
corruption, fraud, racketeering and defeating the ends of justice for accepting
– allegedly - 1.2 million bucks from his buddy, a convicted drug lord, who was
also involved in the murder of a mining magnate and… Dear
Reader, it goes on and on and on.
Now, the new National Police Commissioner - Bheki Cele - has just got off to a
great start by stating that the ANC government is not going to release the national
crime statistics because,”… the statistics might help the criminals”. Huh? Buh…
Wha… What??
Logical coherence escapes me here,
but could he be alluding to ANC criminals sitting in parliament who are planning
their next move? However Dear Reader,
another thought has just occurred to me and that is, logical incoherence aside,
I wonder if this refusal to release the national crime statistics has anything
to do with the scaring away of cash laden tourists - and in particular - soccer
tourists? Huh? What? What’s this about soccer tourists?
Dear
Reader, if you were not already
aware of it,
The 2010 soccer tourist might
actually be a little alarmed to learn that these killers (whose number is
legion) extract great joy from the gratuitous killing of people. After robbing
and raping their victims they then kill them – so as to savour the sheer atavistic
thrill of extinguishing consciousness. The soccer tourist is advised that with
this tourist bonanza looming, these delightful creatures are busy sharpening
their machetes in high expectations.
I don’t want to startle these 2010
soccer tourists any more than I might already have but a month or so ago, in
this wondrous democracy, a survey was conducted in which 28% of the males canvassed,
admitted to committing rape (some on males). What?? Yes indeed Dear
Reader, yes indeed. Can you just imagine
owning up to something like that? But there again I guess, sauce for the
President is sauce for ….. So, if a 2010
soccer tourist should see four chappies hanging about on a street corner,
statistically, one could be a rapist – but to add further to his disquiet, there
is a very high likelihood that all four could be rapists.
Shucks, I nearly forgot! There is something
else that the soccer tourist might like to consider and that is that
And now Dear
Reader, Horrors!! I hear that the organizers of this 2010 Soccer
World Cup are trying to get the Blessed Messiah to come and launch the show! There
is no doubt that the Blessed Messiah is the right man for the job here though
and I can see him high 5’n and shuck’n an’ a-jivin’ with the top ranking
criminals of the ANC. No doubt waving his magic derriere around will drive the
crowds wild and draw a massive global TV audience.
Truth to tell Dear
Reader, I think that this poor ole’
planet of ours is in desperate straits
and, short of a large Malthusian adjustment, I am not too sure where this
is all headed – and I fear the worst. I have another 25 years to go before
retiring so, in the meantime, I am keeping my powder dry - and putting my money
on Putin, Palin and the Mormons!
Dear
Reader, That’s it for this
chronicle. Y’all have a nice day now!!
BROCK of the BUSHVELD
