Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Ther Idler, Wednesday, March 27, 2019

This beats

the Nkandla

party line

THINGS have moved on a bit since the days of the Nkandla party line. Okay, there you did get some fascinating snatches of conversation and hot gossip – a bit like what we're hearing at these commissions of inquiry – but nothing like the videos that arrive on Whatsapp.

Who sends them? From where? Who knows, but they're a lot of fun.

One, recently arrived, is of a rugby match. You can't make out which teams or where they're playing but they're certainly throwing the ball around. Let's call them the Blues and the Reds. The commentator is British.

The Blues have had a bit of a breakdown in midfield about on the halfway line. The Reds are driving at them dangerously. The Blues are on the back foot, retreating to their 23 but still in possession more or less.

Then one of them manages to flick a pass to one of the backs. This fellow breaks left at a phenomenal pace. He's running round the opposition, he's at the halfway mark. This is dangerous.

But he's going to be hemmed in against the touchline. He flings a longish pass infield. Terrific stuff!

But the pass gets intercepted by one of the Reds going full tilt. The game switches entirely. He's running at incredible pace. Two defenders can't get across in time.

The commentator is beside himself with excitement. "He's going to score! He's going to score! Here comes a try! Here comes a try!"

As he crosses the line, the ball-carrier launches himself into one of those-crowd-pleasing swallow dives. And in doing so he loses the ball. It goes way forward. No try.

I show this to rugby writer Mike Greenaway. He chuckles and shows me a better one on his phone. This is a football match. We can't tell between whom or where. But the commentary appears to be Spanish.

The ball is going back and forth, the way it does in football. And then suddenly a scorcher of a shot from way out, the ball on a trajectory no goalie can get to. It goes into the top corner of the net. What a goal! The crowd goes wild. The Spanish commentator is beside himself.

Then the camera zooms in on the action. The goal-scorer is actually a streaker. And what a streaker! This streaker is an absolute peach of a gal. Stark naked. She's punching the air in exhilaration, everything moving, jiggling.

As I say, Spanish commentary: "Caramba! Senorita streaka! Mammarae immensae! Caramba!"

This is something for the connoisseur. That terrific goalkick, I mean.

I'm afraid the Nkandla party line just doesn't measure up.

 

Top hat, cigar

AS THE Brexit shambles presents Britain with its most serious crisis since World War II, it seems strangely timeous that Winston Churchill's top hat and a half-smoked cigar should come to light.

They were salvaged from a rubbish tip along with letters from Churchill's cook to her son, telling him the domestic side of Churchill's daily life.

Do Remainers take heart from this? Churchill, the great wartime leader, used to speak with enthusiasm of a post-war United States of Europe. He was supported by our own prime minister, General Smuts, a member of Churchill's war cabinet.

Tailpiece

"I JUST got a new hearing aid. It cost four thousand bucks, but it's state of the art ... It's perfect."
"Really. What kind is it?"
"Twelve-thirty."

Last word

I was walking down the street wearing glasses when the prescription ran out.

Steven Wright

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