The Hall of Fame for Morons

The Hall of Fame for Morons

Let’s start with some vocabulary. A phori is a young and garrulous politician who consistently denies the obvious demise of his political leader.
Often, he spends inordinate time defending his failed leader on social media.

A phori remains in denial even when it’s clear that the game is over for both him and his political master.
Most phoris are shallow political activists bereft of any intellectual capacity to read the political mood and trends. In their naivety they confuse idiocy for political loyalty.

Their ending is that they are buried together with their political masters.
The origins of the word phori is obvious to anyone with even a morsel of grey matter in their head.
But for the avoidance of doubt Muckraker will give you a brief history of how we came to have the word. Chalane Phori! That, in brief, is the history and meaning of the word.

Let’s move on to other words that recently entered our political lexicon.
A sekatle is a married couple of opportunists that eventually regrets its decision to jump from one political party to the next. In most cases a sekatle will use flimsy reasons to dump their party.
It pretends that its political whoring is based on principle when the real motive is to get a ministerial position. Sekatles will always end up with egg on their faces when political tables turn.

And that is precisely because despite their education they don’t understand the political dynamics of their time. Instant political gratification is what they seek.
There is no need to get into the etymology of that word. Suffice to say political whores always overrate their clout.

We end this grammar lesson with one more word. A polinurse is a politician who bets on an old political leader whose career is all but over. Polinurses, by nature, are bootlickers with the spine of a worm.
They have no constituency of their own.

They know they have no political future beyond the political leader. Their actions are not driven by principle but greed. Polinurses, like phoris, are incapable to sensing danger. They always get shocked when they are already under a bus.

Let’s wrap it up with an example of how you can use those three words in one sentence. The spectacular fall of Uncle Tom and his government has shocked phoris, sekatles and polinurses to the core. For good measure you can add that the trio is licking its wounds after political events took an unexpected turn. There are lessons to those three types of politicians. From phoris, we learn that activity is not progress and a little bit of education is necessary in politics.

The sekatles teach us that education is not wisdom and political whoring doesn’t pay.
In the end what matters is who a political party decides to sleep with. Political prostitution, like real prostitution, has levels. There are those in the streets who get R50.

Then there are those who get jobs, houses and cars. Others become millionaires. The sekatles got a ministerial position that did not last two years. Now they are political hobos. They are back to square one.

It is amazing that in this fiasco that has given us this rich vocabulary there are still some zealots hanging on to Uncle Tom’s tattered seams.
It’s not loyalty but gullibility. Muckraker will forgive the nurses at the State House, the sekatles and the phoris after Uncle Tom brought them to the feeding trough.

Standing with Uncle Tom to the bitter and imminent end is their only way of showing their gratitude.
The same cannot be said for the battalion of activists who have been starving and pounding the streets since June 2012.
Such ilk has no reason to be bellowing for Thabane to cling on to power.
He has brought them nothing but misery. They never had the supper to sing for.
Their support is therefore misplaced and wasted.
Muckraker also has nothing but pity for those who still believe that Uncle Tom still has some political tricks up his sleeves. Such self-delusion is criminal.

The man is finished. By Friday he will be former prime minister.
His wife will be a common Mosotho woman from Mokhotlong. Anyone who will call her former first lady will be granted an induction into the Hall of Fame for Morons. That title is not even in the constitution.
It was manufactured and concocted during pillow talk.
Perhaps some former prime minister wanted to repay his wife for something.

How it came about, we will never know. Any inquiry would be a violation of privacy.
Bedroom matters are best kept secret unless you are the singing couple from the State House that is about to be the singing couple from Ha Abia.
What is clear is that our consent to the creation of that office was manufactured.
For years those in power have pretended that we agreed to such blatant deceit.
They talked about it, gave it an office and pampered it with goodies.
With time we forgot that this thing called the First Lady’s office was an itching lie.

And so we accepted it. It didn’t matter much until sometime in September 2017 when the office had a new tenant.
Suddenly we were reminded of the dangers of giving undue power to someone who has never managed even a backyard garden. She made her mark instantly. Ministers were running for cover and government officials were harangued. Principal Secretaries had their ears pinched like primary students.

In those times we reached for our constitution to find out where the hell this thing came from.
But by then it was too late. The little kitten was now a bulldog and we were scurrying.

We must thank Mahao and his camp for throwing boulders on the road to stop that brakeless excavator. Otherwise we would all have been

frogmarched to work in her garden. She is capable of that.
Oops, Muckraker digressed. The subject before the Feselady’s tomfoolery abducted our attention was Uncle Tom’s political career. The long and short of it is that he is finished. To say anything beyond that will be to waste words.

Nka! Ichuuuuuuuuuuu!

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