During which Public Protector Busisiwe Mkhwebane adds 'works for the Lord' to her LinkedIn profile, and other tales from the Fight Back Frontier.
Do you recall the weird sangfroid that settled over the commentariat post-Cyril Ramaphosa's ascendancy? It has now congealed into a primal scream of exquisite panic.
Example? We've learned in the last several days that Carl Niehaus, a lunatic toady yanked from a primary school production of Dr. Strangelove, has against every conceivable odds stacked against him managed to send the ZAR trotting obediently after the Venezuelan bolívar. (And they say white people have no pull in this country.)
If Niehaus is now in charge of our economic policy -- and for all intents and purposes, he is -- then we have entered new territory, an upending regarding which the literary theorist Lionel Trilling once wrote:
"Now and then, it is possible to observe the moral life in process of revising itself."
Yes, but what moral life? Revising itself into what? This is a country where an auditor for the state broadcaster recently survived an assassination attempt, where oversight comes with a death sentence. Indeed, where oversight itself has become a sort of a game -- an endless...