It’s not the onset of winter. It’s treachery

That early morning mist you see? It’s not the onset of winter. It’s treachery. Hanging in the air like an invisible cloud of poison gas. Like our politicians, it’s getting thicker and more toxic by the day.

As May 8 approaches, we are sloshing about in gutters running with scurrilous calumny, militant hyperbole and enough hogwash to leave a million pot-bellied pigs clean and sweet-smelling while the supreme weasels wheedle and cajole, coax, fawn and pander, quibble, fence and lie.

Big decisions need to be made in precisely two weeks’ time. Do we spend the day on the beach, go shoplifting at the mall or stay in bed with a bottle of gin and the curtains drawn? I suppose some of you may want to vote. Suit yourself. Just don’t come crying to me afterwards.

I haven’t received a single pre-recorded phone call or SMS from a political party. It’s almost as if they don’t want my vote. Good. Because they’re not getting it.

Some parties are still moaning about their posters being vandalised. Please. Give me a break. Here at election time the complaint is, “They tore my poster off.” Elsewhere in Africa at election time the complaint is, “They tore my leg off.” Get a grip. Don’t go whining to the IEC unless your polling station gets blown up and you’re left carrying your kidneys in a bucket.

There are forty-eight parties contesting the elections. I imagine that most of them are on the ballot for the same reason their candidates fill in a Lotto card every week. Tata ma chance. The minimum wage for ordinary members of parliament – and I do mean ordinary – is around R90 000 a month. Provincial MECs are rewarded with just over a million rand a year. Nice work if you can get it. I use the word ‘work’ loosely.

A lot of people haven’t made up their minds who to vote for, or whether they should even bother getting involved at all. Seven million registered voters opted not to take part in the last general election.

If you’re still not sure which party should get your vote, here’s some information that might help you make up your mind who not to vote for. Jacob Zuma’s nine-year orgiastic feeding frenzy, supported at every turn by the ANC, drove a stake into the heart of our economy. Growth this year is predicted to be so low that it’s not even worth mentioning. There have been no prosecutions for corruption. R730-million has just been set aside for upgrades to minister’s houses. Our transport minister says there will be a clampdown on motorists found with blood in their alcohol stream.

Before you vote, think about what kind of South Africa you want to live in. I already know the answer. I want to live in a South Africa where skin colour doesn’t matter. A South Africa with no black people. No white people. No people at all. Just me and a country full of animals. And maybe a woman to cook the animals when I’m hungry.

While we are treated as little more than lemmings being herded towards a fiscal cliff, political parties continue to spend vulgar amounts of money on campaigning. The DA alone printed 1.5 million posters at a cost of around thirty million rand. After the election the boards could be used for ultra-low cost housing. A bit flimsy, like the government’s excuses for non-delivery, but better than nothing. Placards for the people.

The ANC has a grinning Cyril Ramaphosa looking down on us. “Building a South Africa you can believe in,” the poster says. I don’t know, comrade. Our capacity for believing in anything at all is dangerously low. Our cynicism and apathy are all we have left. Don’t take that away from us, too.

“Ramaphosa for President. The people’s choice,” says another. But it’s not really, is it? The president is the choice of eighty-six cadres on the ANC’s national executive committee. If we were allowed to vote directly for the person we think should be president, then you could say it was the people’s choice.

Bantu Holomisa promises “prosperity and dignity for all”. There’s no way we will ever be allowed to have both. Since the ANC has made it perfectly clear that there can only be prosperity for the chosen ones, we are left with dignity. Which doesn’t pay the rent or make us drunk. We’d be better off with Dignitas.

Mmusi Maimane looks fairly serious on posters that bear slogans like, “Silethe Ushintsho”. I don’t know what that means because white people only need to know the Zulu words for, “Not today, thanks” and “Please don’t kill me.”

Somehow Julius Malema has wangled himself massive billboards that float redly above freeways proclaiming him to be a Son of the Soil and promising “Our Land and Jobs Now”. The EFF manifesto obviously promises much more, including free houses, yachts, membership to the exclusive Inanda Club and business class air travel for all.

I haven’t seen any posters from the African Transformation Movement, whose leader is so low-key it’s almost as if he doesn’t exist. Don’t be surprised if Mzwanele Manyi – the Svengali of South African politics – becomes one of our new lawmakers.

Lastly, in case you still give a damn, here’s a convenient glossary of election terms.

Democracy – A political system that punishes minorities for not breeding fast enough. From the Greek word ‘demo’ meaning ‘tyranny’ and ‘cracy’ meaning ‘of the majority’.

Manifesto – A document outlining a party’s policies. From the Greek word ‘mani’ meaning ‘barefaced’ and ‘festo’ meaning ‘lies’.

Coalition – An alliance of parties more interested in power than principles.

Clientelism – When a party functionary gives you money in return for your vote. Also known as Magashulism.

Polling booth – A secure environment in which control over one’s life is delegated, in writing, to perfect strangers.

Door-to-door campaigning – An opportunity for politicians to lie to poor people in person.

Poverty – A condition that distresses politicians for three weeks every five years.

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