Stay tuned

The 27th Comrade told us that His Excellency John Cen—I mean Yoweri Museveni (I always get the people’s champs mixed up) was on radio the other day. He called in to one of those rabble-gabble idiot-fests called bimeeza. The problem with bimeeza is that every moron with airtime is there. There is no filtering process, no bouncer at the gate to demand some sort of standard for those seeking to participate; no one saying, “Either produce evidence that your brain nuts are well-aligned and freshly oxygenated, or I shall withhold the rights of admission.”

This is exacerbated by the fact that these things are held on Saturday afternoons, when all the intelligent people in Kampala are at Rugby Club watching Redykulass or at the Vision offices preparing the weekend paper or whatever. Whereever you guys be hanging out. The thing is, they are not at bimeeza.

Consequently, the president of the nation addressed a mob largely constituted of numbnuts.

According to some reports, Sevo got his ass handed to him, but other reports, of course, tell us that he shone like Pastor Kula’s Halogen headlights and might as well have summed up his brilliant oratory with the words, “Fuck Mabira! Who’s with me? Yeah!”

Thing is, dude used to have an uncanny way with crowds. I witnessed it myself, back when I was a supporter. He would begin facing an antsy and hostile crowd and still have them eating out of his hands by the end. This guy tamed Northcoters. Tamed them!

But there are many things Sevo was that he no longer is.

Anyway, he was on Kimeeza, and he garnered mixed reviews.

Don’t you think it would be the coolest if, for his next trick, he called in to Fat Boy?

Cos Fat Boy runs radio, son!

Kiboko Squad Conspiracy Theories

Government Hired Them:
Government got tired of dealing with rioters by openly firing guns at them, pummelling them with truncheons and smothering them with tear gas. They decided to try whipping them incognito. So they created a special secret whip unit.
This is the weakest theory, because if Kale Kayihura wants you whipped, he does not need to disguise himself. All he needs to do is wait. You are going to step out of line sooner or later.

Traders formed a vigilante squad:
Because they got tired of this bullshit — who wouldn’t?– and decided to take matters into their own hands. Besides, the police were not doing enough to protect their property. Police’s concern is dispersing the crowds, not keeping crowds away from the various telephones, DVDs and items of lingerie on display in the shops, and a lot of you actually try to make sure you are dispersed TOWARDS the lootable merchandise. You need canes.

Besigye Did It:
Besigye is the only reason Museveni still gets enough votes to win an election. If we remove Museveni we will have this fuming, conceited, belligerent, tantrum-throwing, blinded-by-fury, tunnel-visioned, rageaholic hard-on sitting in office with the actual legal powers to enforce his rage. Don’t get me wrong, I want change as much as the next guy, but unless Warren gets saved before the next elections, I am voting Sevo again.
Anyway, the theory is that he is the one who formed the squad. He told them to make sure WBS cameras catch them running around the Central Police so that he can have something new to complain about.

Former Lumumbists, Former students of Namilyango College:
Because that is the sort of thing they do. Just grab a special to town, pick up sticks and start lashing at people, lashing at people. The riot was a coincidence.

Deep chaps

You know those things of being when you are intellectual and intelligent and capable of discussing current affairs in the fashion typical of the intelligentsia, you know those things?

Okay, some of you know them. Now, for those of you who don’t know, every Friday, while you are busy polishing your dancing shoes in preparation for your raid on Alzwizi, deep chaps are tuning into KFM radio to listen to a show called The Hot Seat.

The Hot Seat is a a panel of journalists who discuss the issues of the week. Warren, Mabira, Somalia, Umeme, UBHH, when is Rev going to get a haircut cos it is beginning to look like a fluffy black ogre is trying to swallow him head first, and other pressing affairs.

Okay, just kidding about the last one, Rev. Don’t cut it. Keep it lavish and wild and absolutely impregnable the way it is; the barbers’ nemesis, the nightmare of scissors everywhere.

For those who don’t know what this Rev hair is of which I speak, this is what it looks like.

Guy who has hair like Rev.

Now, The Hot Seat: The panel does includes the flagrantly sexist Murray Oliver, but it compensates with other brains that are better-endowed, such as those of Paul Busharizi, Angelo Inzama, Timothy Kalyegira, Charles Mwangusha, Onapito Ekomoloit and, of course, Dennis Matanda.

I bumped into Angelo Inzama over the weekend. You know how I roll. I bump into stars like that. What? Don’t hate me, hate the game.

The following disussion ensued:

Baz: Hi Angelo.

Inzama: Hi. How is Vision?

Baz: The usual. Mumble. Gwe, what happened to that chick you guys brought on?

Inzama: (Something about the attempt to balance the panel in terms of gender distribution by bringing on a female journalist. Nothing committal about the fate of the woman who was on the other week.)

Baz: You guys should get my former landlady on there. She does NOT know how to shut up. (I used to rent a house from FDC deputy spokesperson Sara Epenu. You know how I roll.)

Inzama: (Again, something small-talk and non committal)

Baz: (Little rant about Oliver and his dumb-ass remark he made the other week. Stop short of threatening him with violence.)

Inzama: (Wisely refuses to agree with me, but also, I note, does not defend the heinous Oliver.)

Then Inzama turns back to his website.

Inzama: So Eritrea has pulled out of IGAD?

Baz: Conductor, ku stage aawo. Conductor nvaamu…

Sapatu, sandals and slippers. For crying out loud.

Looks like there was a sale on Bourgeoisie Bigot juice at dude’s local supermarket.

If you’re too lazy to click the link, basically it is some hack’s rant about backpackers and the way they dress. The fact that they do not clad like the cast of a Puff Daddy video, but instead wear what he calls “bathroom slippers” and T-shirts irks him particularly.

First of all, no one wears bathroom slippers on the streets of Kampala. I’ve seen backpackers’ feet. Those guys wear sandals. Sandals which are designed for walking on streets. By Nike.

Now, who else wears sandals and t-shirts? Let’s see… hawkers, turnboys, shoeshines, the guy who sells airtime, the taxi people… the writer takes umbrage in the fact that tourists dress– like members of the working class.

This he calls “littering” the city.

Oh, so now we are litter? Snob-ass.

He claims that if a black chap walked through London or the US in a t-shirt and sandals he would be locked up in a mental hospital. I didn’t read the rest. I gave it to the “litter” who works as our askari/caretaker/odd job man when he came by to collect the garbage.

Just because boda boda are the scum of the earth, that doesn’t mean we should be scornful of everyone who dresses like them.

Otherwise, you guys, how are you?

Last night I dreamt of Sampedo, tumtumtu-tum…

Madonna is in Malawi with David Banda Ciccone-Richie, her new son. The one she adopted in spite of all the hullabaloo raised by people who forgot that she is an actual human being, people who seem to think that she is in fact a cartoon that does nothing but swing on LSD-induced rainbow chutes while quaffing champagne with Ali G.

They think the only thing that could motivate a woman to reach out and help a little boy is that she wants to use him as a fashion accessory. But that is a rant for another day. For this day, I am glad the story is back in the news because it gives me the opportunity to dig up this old link. From the wonderful folks at Cracked Magazine.

By the way, Do You Know Me? I am a TV star these days. I was at Record TV this morning getting interviewed for their breakfast show. During the process I managed to debunk a number of popular myths about television. As we say in my business, Presenting:

They don’t put you in make up. You don’t sit in a barber’s chair chitter-chattering while some nameless girl pads powder onto your face with a fluffy tool. That doesn’t happen.

It doesn’t add ten pounds. The show host, Tina Wamala, is in fact as small as she looks on TV. Well, with girls we say petite, not small.

A studio audience would have been nice: A mob to laugh on cue so that my jokes sound funnier. I hope the Record TV management looks into the possibility.

Back to Madonna. A band of plucky teens wearing orphanage uniforms threw stones at paparazzi who tried to invade the building while Madonna and young David were meeting the deadbeat loser –for the benefit of ed-slah, I shall add the word “bitch-ass” punk who was supposed to be his father before he decided to dump him in an orphanage and go looking for a new wife.

Wait. I promised never to make any judgements about the people involved in this case. So now that it is too late to do so, I take that back.