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"Don't ask me about racism. As a white racist it didn't affect me. But if you ask me about fear, I can tell you about that."

Pieter-Dirk Uys, in "Elections and Erections"

That line ends a serious interlude in the show, one of several that provide counterpoint to the satire and humor he so deftly uses to highlight the flaws of South African society, both before and after apartheid. He has just told us how he came to be a democrat, and he has told us of sharing the garden-shed home of a yard-boy at a rich South African home. Of the fear of being discovered. The fear of being black with white, white with black. A fear so powerful that it overwhelms the fear of being man with man. Even now, when I relate the story to my friends, that final line sends a shiver down my spine.

Pieter-Dirk Uys' alter-ego is Evita Bezuidenhout, a household name in South Africa, famous for over thirty years of satire against the apartheid government. But she hasn't stopped there. "Elections and Erections" makes it clear that Uys' true enemy is that which makes people afraid. Whether it's corruption in the apartheid government or in the ANC; politicians denying the existence of AIDS; friendships with dictators based on a common race; ignorance; false pretenses; or just the everyday fears of trying to survive in a country stuck in a downward spiral. Uys wants to expose the things that make us afraid, shine the bright light of humor on them, and bring hope and laughter to the people he loves: the people of South Africa.

I'm hearing only bad news
From Radio Africa,
I'm hearing only sad news
From Radio Africa
"Radio Africa" by Latin Quarter.

If Evita Bezuidenhout has a counter-part in the the U.S., it might be Stephen Colbert, with his pseudo-conservative satire. But Evita is much more biting and relevant, and Uys has many more roles to don beyond Evita. He plays the ANC politicians contemplating whether the next president will get the position before, or after, he is thrown in jail for corruption. He lampoons (gently, but none-the-less) Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He describes the trials of a Jewish African Princess, her relatives self-exiled to Canada, trying desperately to be the liberal she knows she ought to be. He takes on Winnie Mandela, including relating the time he played her character (complete with rubber tire jewelry) with the real Winnie in the audience. He talks to the asian storekeeper whose husband used to be too black for jobs, but now is turned down because he is too white. He does a chilling rendition of Grace Mugabe as an evil child-like woman, losing her mind to AIDS. And he doesn't save all his barbs for Africa; his characterization of Mother Theresa, filling in for Marilyn Monroe as God's secretary, is priceless. The angels are on strike, suicide bombers keep showing up in pieces looking for their virgins, and the son of the managing director is refusing to return to Earth. He even does a great Hillary (and Bill!) impersonation.

What makes Uys' work really stand out, particularly as compared to American satirists like Colbert, is its compassion; even his enemies are human. The apartheid-era security chief he lampoons still had a sense of humor. Winnie Mandala may have "necklaced" informants, but she now tours AIDS facilities and pushes AIDS education. This, in a country where the government Health Minister promotes a cure of beet juice, and claims that HIV drugs are poisonous. His barbs are as pointed as they are funny, but he sees the humanity in everyone. In his heart, his true goal is to make his people happy and unafraid. You can see it in his eyes as he relates the story of a little black boy who wanders into his theatre as he is building the stage. From a simple "do you like to sing" and a few shaky songs, you see Uys' pride as he relates how that same child made it all the way to top awards at Trinity College. Uys' South Africa has nothing to do with race, and everything to do with the pride of being a good human being.

Told today that they release you
That you had paid your debt
Nomzamo in her own damn country
How much more boorish can these people get?
But you refuse to get the message
Of waving whips, in bloody semaphore
Where only gunfire's indiscriminate - as always
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo...
"Nomzamo" by Latin Quarter.

South Africa has not been on the forefront of American minds for some time. As Uys says, if Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela hadn't had an easy-to-pronounce first name, Americans may not have been aware of the country's plight at all. In "Elections and Erections," Uys entertains, and more importantly, educates. Throughout the show, he relays tidbits of history and culture which later become the punch lines of his comedy, ensuring the audience understands the satirical context of his work. Yet the pace never suffers. The flow of comedy and pathos, serious and profane, never falters. This is not a show you want to miss. I only wish we could import Pieter-Dirk Uys to provide a similar look at ourselves.

"Elections and Erections: A Chronicle of Fear and Fun" is written and performed by Pieter-Dirk Uys. It is playing at the American Repertory Theatre's "Zero Arrow Theatre" playhouse (a wonderful dinner-theatre style space just off Harvard Square, with tables, a bar, and wonderful ambience). It will be showing through May 4th, 2008. For more information on this show and other performances, see the A.R.T. site.

The A.R.T. graciously provided free tickets to myself and other Boston-area bloggers in exchange for an honest review (good or bad). I'd like to thank them for initiating this experiment in new media.

Many thanks to @devyl for the editing assistance.
Any errors are due to my not following her advice.

There is a growing tendency amongst some Twitter users to "tweet" while they drive. I myself have occasionally succumbed to this temptation. Therefore I am posting the following cautionary tale about driving and tweeting.

I originally submitted this (true) story to Chiff & Fipple, where it was published in their July 14th, 2001 newsletter (entitled "Chiff & Fipple to Host 2008 Olympic Games"). Unfortunately it no longer appears to be available, so…

VII. JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT IT WAS SAFE TO SUCK

Dear Dale,

I stumbled across your web site today while seeking (surprise, surprise) a way to reduce the moisture build up in my Burke whistle (it had been great for about six months, but then...). The business card is about ready to be soaped as we speak.

However I thought you might be interested in a new danger I discovered while whistling in traffic the other day. (Whistling in traffic is an old danger). I keep a Clarke whistle in the car's sun visor, and have a habit of pulling it out a red lights or traffic jams--I usually manage to put it back before starting up again. (The Clarke whistle is really good for this, because it's tapered, it's much easier to slide into the visor's pocket very quickly when the light changes.) So last week I'm sitting in traffic, and there's a tune on the CD player I really want to try playing along with, so I pull down the whistle and start to play. All that comes out are squeaks.

"How odd," I think. Moisture seems unlikely, but I give it a big blow anyway. No difference. I turn the whistle around and blow the other way. Still no difference. So I'm sitting there staring at the finger holes, when I see a little ball roll by. I have a moment to wonder how (and why) one of my daughters had managed to stick a ball in a whistle that tapers down at the end, when I noticed that the ball had legs--lots of them.

The next few moments were not pretty. There was a lot of yelling, and waving the whistle violently out of the window, and my daughter in the back seat was extremely confused. It didn't help that the light changed to green just about then as well. All I could think was how normally I suck to clear moisture.

When I got back home, there was no sign of the spider, but the web still remains. It's a tough little thing, and I need to find a stick small and long enough to clear it out.

So next time you pull that whistle out of anything other than a whistle bag--check it first!

Kee Hinckley - Somewhere.Com

Dale writes: I read this account with a combination of the requisite horror and morbid fascination. This is because it is a part of whistle folklore that Clarkes have been known to house spiders. One can only presume it is related to the wooden fipple. In any case, this is the first credible account I've received. Sleep tight.

Next issue, we'll look into the legend that Generation whistles often contain toads.

Oh wait. Wrong kind of tweeting. Never mind.

I get the distinct impression that Link/ is getting hot. Design your own cartoon character so friends can put it in cartoons, or make your own cartoons using characters (and yes, there are plenty of political ones) that others have designed.

The New York Times Washington Post has an amusing article on parents joining face book. I've been through a number of the situations that they mention there. Both of my daughters are my Facebook friends, and some of their friends have friended me as well. On the other hand, my younger daughter has refused to accept my "friend" request on MySpace. the problem with cross-generational "friending" isn't restricted to children complaining about their parents. There is also the problem of parents who would like to keep some of their activities somewhat private from their children. Until Facebook adds support for multiple separate personas, both parents and children have to be careful about what applications and other information they make available to whom.

I really like VisualHub's progress dialog. No "99% done" for 20 minutes. Instead: "Looks like I lied. It will be done when it's done."


Seriously, it may be funny, but at least it's telling the truth. A progress bar that spends 90% of its time in the last 1% is of no use to anyone. It not only doesn't tell me what's going on, it makes me worry that something may have gone wrong. Amusing or not, this is a better approach.

Sometimes companies come up with slogans or headlines that don't necessarily convey what they really intended. Of course, so long as I remember the ad, they've done their job… but still.

The one that's always bugged me particularly was U-Haul's slogan for years.

"An Adventure in Moving"

I don't know about you, but when I'm moving, the last thing I want is an "adventure." Apparently I'm not the only one.

The latest of these "slightly off" messages arrived in my email this morning. It's from VMware, a company that makes it possible for you to run multiple virtual machines in one computer.

I heard my wife say something very much like that when the server room at her work lost power. It was accompanied by several words which don't usually appear in corporate advertisements. I know what VMware is getting at, but trust me, that is not a question you usually want to hear!

I'm sure there are other, better examples out there. Leave some in the comments, or drop me an email. (I know spam is famous for this kind of unintentional humor, but let's skip those for now.)

All I really wanted to do was find the most recent email address of a friend. It was a mere matter of checking for the most recent email message from him, but he has one of those random .signature generators, and it had this interesting little poem. An hour (at least) later, here we are.

My Spill Chequer
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rarely ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect in it's weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
(Sauce unknown)

So I started searching to see who wrote it. I didn't find that, but I did come across a lovely word; "oronym". It isn't in my online dictionary (it's a relatively recent neologism (another lovely word), but the Wikipedia (of course) has it. It says:

This term was coined by Gyles Brandreth and first published in his book The Joy of Lex (1980), and it was used in the BBC programme Never Mind the Full Stops, which also featured Brandreth as a guest.

Oronyms are basically homophones which span words. They work in spoken English (and often depend on dialects) because we run all our words together. The above poem uses them of course, but there's a more famous example. (This version taken from Fun With Words.) I've heard this one before, although I'd forgotten it. Once upon a time :-) I had a friend who could recite the entire piece.

An Oronym Story – Ladle Rat Rotten Hut

Even more impressive in length is the following oronym story. It is the tale of Little Red Riding Hood... but not the famous version; this one is constructed entirely from homophones: Ladle Rat Rotten Hut. This curious version was written in 1940 by a professor of French named H. L. Chace. He wanted to show his students that intonation is an integral part of the meaning of language. Try reading it out loud (best in the accent of Southern/Central USA)!

Wants pawn term, dare worsted ladle gull hoe lift wetter murder inner ladle cordage, honor itch offer lodge, dock, florist. Disk ladle gull orphan worry putty ladle rat cluck wetter ladle rat hut, an fur disk raisin pimple colder Ladle Rat Rotten Hut.

Wan moaning, Ladle Rat Rotten Hut's murder colder inset. "Ladle Rat Rotten Hut, heresy ladle basking winsome burden barter an shirker cockles. Tick disk ladle basking tutor cordage offer groinmurder hoe lifts honor udder site offer florist. Shaker lake! Dun stopper laundry wrote! Dun stopper peck floors! Dun daily-doily inner florist, an yonder nor sorghum-stenches, dun stopper torque wet strainers!"

"Hoe-cake, murder," resplendent Ladle Rat Rotten Hut, an tickle ladle basking an stuttered oft. Honor wrote tutor cordage offer groin-murder, Ladle Rat Rotten Hut mitten anomalous woof. "Wail, wail, wail!" set disk wicket woof, "Evanescent Ladle Rat Rotten Hut! Wares are putty ladle gull goring wizard ladle basking?"

"Armor goring tumor groin-murder's," reprisal ladle gull. "Grammar's seeking bet. Armor ticking arson burden barter an shirker cockles."

"O hoe! Heifer gnats woke," setter wicket woof, butter taught tomb shelf, "Oil tickle shirt court tutor cordage offer groin-murder. Oil ketchup wetter letter, an den - O bore!"

Soda wicket woof tucker shirt court, an whinney retched a cordage offer groin-murder, picked inner windrow, an sore debtor pore oil worming worse lion inner bet. En inner flesh, disk abdominal woof lipped honor bet, paunched honor pore oil worming, an garbled erupt. Den disk ratchet ammonol pot honor groin-murder's nut cup an gnat-gun, any curdled ope inner bet.

Inner ladle wile, Ladle Rat Rotten Hut a raft attar cordage, an ranker dough ball. "Comb ink, sweat hard," setter wicket woof, disgracing is verse. Ladle Rat Rotten Hut entity betrum an stud buyer groin-murder's bet.

"O Grammar!" crater ladle gull historically, "Water bag icer gut! A nervous sausage bag ice!"

"Battered lucky chew whiff, sweat hard," setter bloat-Thursday woof, wetter wicket small honors phase.

"O Grammar, water bag noise! A nervous sore suture anomolous prognosis!"

"Battered small your whiff, doling," whiskered dole woof, ants mouse worse waddling.

"O Grammar, water bag mouser gut! A nervous sore suture bag mouse!"

Daze worry on-forger-nut ladle gull's lest warts. Oil offer sodden, caking offer carvers an sprinkling otter bet, disk hoard hoarded woof lipped own pore Ladle Rat Rotten Hut an garbled erupt.

Mural: Yonder nor sorghum stenches shut ladle gulls stopper torque wet strainers.

The same Fun With Words page also then references "mondegreens" (another new word!), which are misheard lyrics.

The term mondegreen was originally coined by author Sylvia Wright, and has come to be quite widely used. As a child, Wright heard the lyrics of The Bonny Earl of Murray(a Scottish ballad) as:

Ye highlands and ye lowlands
Oh where hae you been?
Thou hae slay the Earl of Murray
And Lady Mondegreen

It eventually transpired that Lady Mondegreen existed only in the mind of Sylvia Wright, for the actual lyrics said that they "slay the Earl of Murray and laid him on the green." And to this day Lady Mondegreen's name has been used to describe all mishearings of this type!

You see these a lot on the web, when people are writing down the lyrics to their favorite songs. I remember stumbling across this one. The song is Natasha Bedingfield's "These Words". The verse goes:

Read some Byron, Shelley and Keats,
recited it over a hip-hop beat
I'm havin trouble sayin what i mean,
with dead poets and a drum machine

But the first version I found online (on some poor girl's journal) was:

Written by Ricelli and Keys
Resided in over a heartbeat
I'm having trouble saying what I mean
With dead poets and drum machines

And now I think I better get back to sending my friend that email message!