Pictures for people

On the forefront of the matter right now is this, my latest lolmugabe

It is a special dedication to Three333ttt, who appreciates the fine art of lolcats. In addition to that, it is going to be my first ever submission to the real internet. I am submitting it to in the hope that it will win me some international notoriety and then I. Will Rule. Ze World. Muahaha etc.


This other picture is for Minty , because she saw this guy’s colleage. My pictures aren’t that clear, but, yes, those ARE boots.

And now, before I return to my writer’s block, from the Sedition Edition.


Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Exclusive! Season Five. Faster than you thought possible

The following takes place between the hours of 07:00 and 8:00am

Morning in Los Angeles. Morning bustle. Everybody is wearing sunglasses. The camera pans onto two men. The younger one wears a black suit and looks like Alfonso Arau. The other one is wearing a white T-shirt, a Lakers cap and jeans. He would look typical except that he has a long beard. They talk in low conspiratorial whispers. Then they get up and kiss each other on the cheek.
Around 7:55 there is an explosion. People scream. A black extra yells out something like “other duck hits”.
Tick Tick tock…


The following takes place between 8:00 and 9:00

At CTU, Chloe is eating a sandwich. Edgar is ordering fajitas online. Erin Driscoll is brooding about who she can fuck up. Suddenly a phone call comes in. The unnamed CTU staffer who picks it up shouts: “There’s been an explosion!”
When Jack Bauer hears this he says, “Oh, I know what that means.” And he races for the toilet.

The following takes place between 10:00 and like 5 or something

Jack Bauer kills 43 people and commits multiple felonies by directly disobeying orders 563 times before he finally discovers that he has been following a wrong lead: the two men kissing before the explosion, they were not terrorists at all. They were members of the Gay Anglican Church of Syria. They came to LA to get married. And catch a taping of Will And Grace.

The two Syrian gays announce their intention to sue for discrimination. President Palmer (Not Dennis Haysbert. Sherry, the evil wife. She got elected. Surprise!) is in a public relations bind. So President Sherry and Driscoll, who are sick to death of Jack and his insubordination, invoke Executive Privilege 404 of the Patriot Act which allows the Secret Service in conjunction with CTU to assassinate people.

The MIBs show up looking for Jack. They are shooting at him, but we know they won’t get him. It is only 5:55pm


The following takes place between the hours of 6:00 and like midnight

Jack manages to escape the secret service by dodging the bullets and then shooting back and killing them all. This is because, of all those who went through US government marksmanship training, Jack is the only one who actually learnt to shoot straight. Okay, him and Sidney Bristow.

He runs off. Yeah, Jack is a fugitive again. This time he goes where no one in their right mind would dare follow him: “Da Hood”. He goes to South Central. The exact same neighbourhood where Boyz N Tha Hood was filmed.

A bunch of gangstas show up planning to “jack” him. “Jacking” is a hip hop term meaning to rob. It is not just a bad pun. Will they actually succeed in their nefarious plan? It is 12:59.

The following takes place between one and five seconds past one:

Those gangstas think they are who? Jack Bauer pees on their prone corpses and laughs, “This is for ma homies!”

The following takes place between the rest of the episode.

The plot of Bullworth, but with more gunplay. Meanwhile, at CTU, Edgar and Chloe are playing footsie beneath the conference room table.

At around 5:30 someone remembers that they still don’t know who blew up the Café.

So they go into the hood to get Jack. Finally, he agrees to return to CTU. But he has been smoking marijuana with the Crips and has an STD so he can no longer function as the superagent. Marwan, the villain from season four, calls in and claims responsibility for the explosion. He taunts Jack, saying, “You should’ve killed me last year!”

The following takes place between 6:00 and I can’t believe you are still reading this.

Tom Cruise eats the placenta of his newborn baby. Sandra Bullock arrives at the Corner Café with her husband, the funnily-named Jesse James, because they want a Lattefrappochino. All they find is a bombed-out crater. Marwan is standing there, wondering when Jack is going to arrive for their showdown. It’s the season finale, for crying out loud. He doesn’t know that Jack has returned to the ghetto to smoke some more chronic.
Sandy points and says, “Hey, I know you! You’re that guy!”
Marwan, fearing that he has been recognised, pulls out a gun.
Sandy says, “The Mummy, right?”
Marwan shoots himself.

Mice and men

It is hard for an arrogant, self-important, braggadocious, swoll-headed, shy, insecure little boy like me to ever admit this, but the evidence is too great to ignore.

You know the classic caricature of the writer at work? Unkempt hair, hornrimmed glasses, holding a single sheet of prose in his hands, glad to have finally nailed that story down?
Behind him lie piles and piles of crumpled up bits of paper.
The message herein is that before he can produce a single sheet of adequate writing, the writer has to labour through reams of crap, crap which ends up as crumpled paper in overflowing wastebins.

Now, the number of posts I have deleted over the past two weeks or, to fit with the imagery, the number of sheets I have crumpled has risen to the height of a daunting mountain of paper, looming above me and mocking my determination, forcing me to conclude that, yes, I have, in fact, succumbed to it.


Writers block.


So I am going to take a break for a week. To rejuvenate, to revitalise, to recalibrate and to generally give the juices time to squish themselves back into the required consistency. Then I will be back.

In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind if I humbly offer you a few of my earlier efforts from The Sedition Edition, including…




Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Time to play Spot The Patronising Sexist Attitude!

Here is an exclusive interview with President-elect Miria Obote. That’s how good I am: a journalist so fresh that I give you the news even before it happens.

Q: Mama Miria, allow me to congratulate you on being voted in as the first female president of the republic of Uganda.

A: (Unfortunately, due to technical limitations such as the events not having occurred yet, I am unable to publish the answers to the questions. Apologies for the inconvenience.)

Q: You are welcome. Now, do you consider this a great step forward for women emancipation in Africa?

A: …….

Q: Well, that is your opinion on Elen Johnson Sirleaf, and you are entitled to it. Now, Mrs Obote, you are also the first Ugandan president in a while to sit in office without a first lady. I am sure you have got plenty of offers from men ready to be first spouse. My old school buddy Joseph Bwanika has expressed interest. Would you consider him?

A: ……

Q: I think it is worth thinking about. Because, imagine if you got married to him and became Mrs. Bwanika. Then we would end up with President Bwanika, even though we already voted so hard to prevent that from happening.

A: ……..

Q: Thirty-two in July.

A: ……

Q: I think you should meet him first, before you judge. Now, Mrs President-Elect, in one of your earlier interviews, before campaigns officially began actually, you put forward a very daring and ambitious plan to eradicate poverty.

A: ….

Q: So, when do I get my cow?

A: …. ?

Q: You told Andrew Mwenda that you will give us all free cows. I want mine so I can sell it and buy a new DVD player.

A: ….!

Q: No, my envy towards Mwenda is NOT becoming an obsession! Mrs President-elect, you said you would introduce a programme to donate cattle to the poor. By certain definitions, following certain indexes and measures, pretty much all Ugandans fall into some category of poor.

A: ….!!

Q: Okay. We shall argue about that later. What are you going to do with your political opponents? Are you going to lock Besigye in jail?

A: …

Q: I wouldn’t be worried about that happening, but I, for one, would have liked to see them try. Anyway, enough with the politics and the economics. You are a woman president, so let’s talk about issues that would be important to a woman president: Who does your hair?

A: …..

Q: No, I was actually just kidding.

A: ….

Q: I will. But issues such as the girl child, Domestic Relations Bill, Empowerment, Getting the right size of shoes – okay, just kidding again there—but generally, will the cause of women emancipation be further strengthened by your presidency than it would be had a man won this seat and if so, how?

A: …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . ..

Q: That’s easy to say, but will it work on the ground?

A: …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . .. …… ….. …. … .. . …. . …….. … … …… . … . ..

Q: Okay, we shall see. Mrs President-Elect, it has been a pleasure speaking with you. We look forward to your inauguration and your tenure in power.

A: …… ….

Q: Only three terms, maximum.


Postscript: This would be a great place to link to Minega’s excellent piece on voters and how they chose presidents.

Emiti Emito

Yuppie Marketing Chick strides into office, beaming: Yooo Peepoh! I have just come from Nandos and do you know what happened there?

Aloof Audit Guy: Never go to Nandos. That place is for snobs.
YMC: No, it’s not. That is just what broke people say. But Muganwa, why are you bitter? Kola Ng’omuddu. Work hard and you will become rich, then you will be able to join us in Nandos. Pizza tastes nymmm..
Perpetual Coffee Mug on Desk Guy: If a person refuses to go to Nandos it doesn’t mean they are broke. I mean, look at the Boss…

Boss: (Doesn’t hear. He is in his cubicle facebooking. Or IMing campus chicks. Whichever.)

PCMDG: He makes more than all of us, but do you ever see him in Nandos?

YMC: The boss is old, darli. Nandos is for funky people. To happen there you have to be young and cool…
AAG: Then how come they allowed you to…
YMC: Store your nugu for afterwards, okay? I was trying to tell a story.

Yuppie Editorial Chap: Wamma, Fiona, you tell us. What happened?
YMC: Nga don’t I almost knock Sekagya?
YEC: Margaret Sekagya?
YMC: I was like getting out of my parking space, then I reached to the radio to tune it because Biggy Biggy Ben was playing some lame crap song… Sean Kingston… then and because I wasn’t looking, didn’t I almost run right into this Pajero? I look up and who is the driver glaring at me in shock?
Remember Office Intern?: Who?
Aloof Audit Guy: Sigh. The story is about Margaret Sekagya, banange, so who do you think?
OI:  Who is Margaret Sekagya?

YMC: I almost wee-wee’d myself.
YMC: I said keep the nugu for after the story, whattabout.
AAG: It is after the story.

OI: Oh, Margaret Sekagya. I know her. She presents Emiti Emito on WBS, yeah?
AAG: She is the head of the Human Rights Commission, Doofus.
YEC: Dude, don’t call her a doofus. What is wrong with you?
AAG: Well, she is certainly not a genius.
YEC: As if there are no things she knows that you don’t know?
AAG: That one? Anything she knows that I don’t is not worth knowing.

Two hours later.

AAG: Why didn’t you guys tell me I had been walking around with my fly opened?
YEC, PCMDG, YMC, OI: You said it wasn’t worth knowing.

Faith in nothing

I think we should all try to keep an open mind when we meet people who hold opinions different from ours. It is the honest and the smart thing to do. Because we are all wrong about something. So when you meet a person who thinks differently, I say give them the benefit of the doubt, at least for a while, and listen to them. They might enlighten you. They may just show you where you have been erring in your own thought process.

Keep an open mind. Listen. See what the other person has to say.

Then after he says:

From this group, I’ve seen many places in Africa that they never show us. Please tell me about positive events in recent African history (say last 150 years) that you don’t necessarily hear about on T.V.

I’ve gathered a few:

– End of Slavery
– End of Apartheid in S.Africa
– Release of Nelson Mandela after 27 years
– Nigeria’s return to democracy
– Start of peace talks in Somalia
– Fall of Idi Amin in Uganda

tell us more…..

You can spit and walk away sneering the word:


The Wit of Sid, an encore

Friday night and the stress that built up over the day has peaked. After that moment an explosion of relief is imminent. It comes in the form of a loud and rambunctious debate about Ganda marriage customs— triggered by Iryn Namubiru of all people. Apparently there are restrictions on who she can marry during the reign (if anyone can call it that) of Ronald Mutebi.
Soon the class is on the case of one particular colleague, a staunch traditionalist, who is not married. And no, the traditionalist is not me. The ladies of this office swoop with glee, demanding to know who he is going to marry, and from which clan.

My traditionalist colleague, with a sly smile, asks everyone to shut up, because he is taken. He has a mubeezi. They don’t know because he keeps his things undercover. Quiet. Hidden. Private.

At this point, Sid quoth: “There is a saying in Bunyoro— if you want to defecate, even if you go deep underwater…”

Incorrect Politics

Monitor headline on Sudan president Omar Bashir’s indictment by the ICC on war crimes: “Wanted!”

Tagline below headline: “Uganda remains silent.”

My colleague Sidney: “Of course Uganda remains silent. You don’t celebrate when you see the stick that is being used on your co-wife.”

An Interview with Zimbabwean President Robert Mubage

You may not have realised it but you have been sitting on the edge of your seats for the past week, wringing your arms and snapping your knuckles white waiting for someone to hold an honest one-on-one interview with Robert Mugabe. And because blogs are better than newspapers, I can deliver.

Welcome to I Dance The Internet, Robert.

Glad to be here, Baz. Glad to be here.

Let’s get right into it. First question, of course is, Bob, why is everybody hatin’?

Well, different people have different reasons for hating. Take the Imperialist British Scum, for example. Do you know why they are hating?

Because of you abuse the human rights of your people with impunity?

Ten points for naïvette, Baz. Hah hah! You must have been born yesterday! No, son. Very many presidents abuse human rights, but they don’t attract such ire! This beef is personal.

The land reform?

That’s right. The land reform.

But as far as I know, you and the British had agreed that the land which settlers had taken during colonial times would be returned to indigenous Zimbabweans with time.

Yes, we had. The problem was we never figured out a way to actually do this. The farms were very lucrative and were doing very well for the nation. It was difficult to find a way to transfer ownership to black Zimbabweans without causing great economic upheaval.

But you did it anyway?

Yes. The natives were getting restless, as the saying goes. Hah hah!

Why do old men crack stale jokes and then laugh at themselves? That question is not part of the interview. Please continue explaining why the British hate you.

It was 2002. Elections were coming up and guys were restless about the fact that decades later the land had not been returned. I needed the support of the war veterans…

That is the people who fought for independence with you, fighting for the return of the land…

Yes. They were impatient to know when the promise they fought for would be realised. So I did what anyone would do.

You said, “Fuck the economy. Take the farms.”


Exactly. I said “Fuck the economy. Take the farms.” And all these luscious farms owned by Britons were overrun by my supporters. I won the elections, but the British were so pissed off Tony Blair couldn’t get it up for months. Cheri had to holler at her Jamaican butler for help. I don’t care though. Let them hate. I’m president. That’s what matters.
Thank you Robert. That was Robert Mugabe, international pariah, explaining why the British are hating on him. We shall now take a commercial break and when we return, more from our guest.

And we are back. For those who have just joined us, I am speaking with Robert Mugabe, reviled Zimbabwean head of state, about why he attracts so much hateration from around the world. Robert, you have explained that the reasons for the British government hateration are deeper than just moral outrage, and come down to money matters. Now, who else hates you and why?
Baz, Morgan Tsvangirai hates me.

And why?

Cos that is what he is paid to do.


Yes he is. Morgan Tsvangirai, the head of the opposition—sorry the head of the former opposition party, the MDC, is being funded by my haters in the UK. This fact is well known as it is all over the internet.

I have danced that story once or twice.

You see, you have to be paid to oppose me. No one in Zim has the balls to oppose me for free. I will fuck you so up if you try. Someone somewhere has to make it worthwhile.

Well, he didn’t manage to take over power. You ran him out of the village…

Like a dog caught sniffing at the cooking pot! Whipped him the hell out of town. Hah hah! You don’t mess with Uncle Bob! Bomboclart!

Cos you are one are a bad mofo?

Like Steven Segal! Don’t you ever forget it!

I understand that African leaders in your region are attempting to engage you in talks with MDC after the fiasco (no offence) that was your re-election, but I don’t know the details. I don’t watch the news anymore, because I was told that stuff is all lies calculated to make Africa look bad.

Exactly. Don’t listen to the BBC, listen to me. There is no crisis in Zimbabwe. Everyone is happy. Watch Idols.

And with that, we go for another commercial break. Here is some chick from Daniddy Kane. A pop group, apparently.



And we are back for the last part of this interview. We don’t have that much time left, Robert so tell us, briefly, who else hates you? Do people in Zimbabwe itself hate you?

No, they don’t. I have made it perfectly clear what will happen to anyone who even thinks of not loving me. I have hordes of hooligans with uniforms and guns who will assault, imprison, torture anyone who doesn’t. I can take on your entire hood. Ask that region from whom I withheld food aid because I heard they harboured opposition. No one in Zim hates me. It isn’t allowed.

That’s all we had time for kids. 1,000 words of post. We leave you with some eye candy for the laideees. Enjoy. It comes from


Robert hearts Mahmoud


I apologise for the very childish, prurient, obscene and tasteless post that came before this. I should be able to come up with something more mature than jokes about Mugabe getting reamed by his bodyguard, who can be seen standing behind him with a determined look.

I am ashamed of myself. What was I thinking?

That lolmugabe should have included that word “fist”. How could I have failed to include it?