A picture. A thousand words.
And a thousand questions.
This is the ANC campaigning in a township of matchbox houses, few dependable utilities and undoubtedly one-step-up-from-squatter-camp food insecurity. Plus the crime, the grime, the depression and despair which goes along with not always having enough to stave the homelessness and hunger from the door.
Into this township, then, roll the expensive cars the colour of gold – any one of which, as my friend David remarked, would buy a streetful of those matchbox houses – decorated with human females of nubile age (and never doubt that this mindset considers women as possessions), thundering their rhetoric, handing out tax-payer-bought T-shirts and food parcels, promising the Earth in return for the votes of the poor.
Oh Hel, yes, I understand the mindset. The mindset which views the wealthy patron as a person to admire, to latch onto, to ride the coattails of, hoping for some of that wealth to rub off onto those less privileged.
It is the mindset which makes kings into earthbound gods – protectors and benefactors of the peasantry -and which makes of the ruthless businessman an icon to be emulated.
The ANC are being very clever here, within the limits of their evolutionary sphere, in playing to this worldview.
For it is the worldview of the true Wetiko. The materialist, ever-hungry, always wanting, greedy fucking way of being which afflicts…well..pretty much all of us at some time or other. Although one would hope that by reaching adulthood, one would have burst through that turn of the spiral.
Wetiko culture thrives on keeping the poor in aspirations. It presents material wealth, at whatever cost, as the most important goal to set. By keeping millions in precarious poverty and flaunting outrageous bling in their faces, the culture perpetuates itself, ad-vicious-nauseam.
And then there’s this, at which I raise my middle finger regularly when I am out and about:
Anybody remember the Siaynoq ritual from God Emperor of Dune?