Jacks of all trades

Everyone has an opinion… but all those opinions are not worth a pile of sh*t unless they are well-informed. ILLUSTRATION| NATION MEDIA GROUP

What you need to know:

  • Yes you heard me right, that stick with a camera on one end and a dense moron on the other. But no, he doesn’t wish to use it to take self-portraits.

  • The ageing man only wants to protect himself against stubbornly obstructive and bloody-minded comrades by whacking them with the stick every time they step out of line. Who has any idea where I can find one? But I digress.

  • My comrades happen to have a dossier on everyone who has ever killed a prominent figure, even in situation when it is crystal clear that the said politician died of natural causes.

The problem with my comrades, according to Grandpa Richard, is that they pretend to have an opinion of everything under the sun.

They act as if they are masters in every discipline available, wherein they grossly misconstrue facts and they are darn wrong.

It would be nice if they limited the ostentatious flaunting of knowledge to topics such as how your eagle tattoo will morph into a turkey when you grew older, the numerous nutritional values that Countryman brandy provides to the liver, the skilful art of smoking a joint and the mechanics involved in the highly specialised profession of stoning motorists.

“But no, your comrades must just venture into issues clearly out of their scope, like gynaecology and forensics. Jazzed up on hormones and self-importance, they have unequivocally proved to be jacks of all trades but masters in only matters pertaining fornication and asinine selfies,” my old man laments.

Speaking of selfies, Grandpa has asked me to get him a selfie-stick for Easter.

Yes you heard me right, that stick with a camera on one end and a dense moron on the other. But no, he doesn’t wish to use it to take self-portraits.

The ageing man only wants to protect himself against stubbornly obstructive and bloody-minded comrades by whacking them with the stick every time they step out of line. Who has any idea where I can find one? But I digress.

My comrades happen to have a dossier on everyone who has ever killed a prominent figure, even in situation when it is crystal clear that the said politician died of natural causes.

They will whisper amongst themselves details of which gospel artistes are actually Illuminati and which pastors are sleeping with popular TV queens. The government secrets that they hold would make Jicho Pevu’s Mohammed Ali drop his jaw with astonishment.

It would be manageable if they kept their “classified” secrets to themselves. But no, they just have to rub it on everyone’s face by taking their unfiltered propaganda and yellow news to the blogosphere where they share it with all and sundry. Such blogs, hell bent on spreading lies and destroying morals, are only filled with morphed ideologies and conflicting opinions that break down when tested with a few basic questions.

And on social media, reprehensible nonsense is what passes for humour. Every degenerate quipster cracks wise on tribal jokes, political scandals, and the female anatomy.

Hence the internet gets filled with half-cooked tripe that is forced down as the gospel truth. The shutdown of legitimate TV stations that used to provide quality news does not help the situation.

 “Your comrades seem to me like the type of gossip-mongers who will make up a rumour every hour if they don’t hear a new one,” notes Grandpa. “It is high time you understood that pursuing a nondescript diploma in some CBD cyber cafe posing as an aviation college does not make you an expert in anything, let alone the rocket science that you purport to study.”