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Satire in Colour
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Satire in Colour Fascinated by SATIRE, I decided to write the following: Supper with GOD ( Work and Title … In progress) I was invited, formerly, to an informal supper with GOD. Took me by surprise, given that I assumed such invites were reserved for “higher ups” than me or otherwise people who enjoy more fervent clapping than I do. Anyway, after some soul searching I decided to accept, making sure I had 9 1 1 programmed into my mobile. Well, one has to be careful; God’s always hanging with the poor and down trodden. You never know with that lot. Well, come the day, I get a bit concerned. I’m not sure what to put on, I mean, do I robe myself like a papal emissary or do I just do the jeans thing. Eventually knocked on the shack door of GODS pad, garden looked green, water wise plants I assumed. Well, come on, GOD would not break the water restrictions. Welcome matt at the door, took the shine off things a bit, read, “JESUS SAVES”, guess with regard to water, so does GOD. Stepped inside after a voice boomed, “come in”, well it was either that or the drone of a Jumbo jetliner. Inside the house it was pretty clean, lots of “costume” trinkets, mostly coloured gold. Pictures everywhere. Mostly of Jesus, on a pony, sticking his tongue out. Right behind him the “whites only” sign still partially visible. Guessed the picture was taken in front of the Dutch Reformed Church. Saw another picture of Jesus drinking something from a huge gold mug. Guess that was the last orange juice or something, naturally, would probably not be apple juice. Anyway, kind of waited, wondering what GOD would look like, and if I was appropriately dressed. I realised that GOD probably saw me naked, so I just undressed. Weird how good it felt, naked in front of GOD. (to be continued .............. ) |
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continued ....... post 2685521 Well nosing around as I was, and I can tell you the place was bright, lights and lamps everywhere, kind of like at the airport, when a plane comes in to land. Kept squinting into the distance, into what looked like a tunnel, and realised that I was looking through a window of the shack that was just next to the side of Cape Town International. Well, enough said. I heard this “yoo-hoo” and turned to see this stunning person, yes you guessed it, GOD, resplended in a tank top and “Mr Price” lableless denims coming toward me with a tray loaded with crackles (to the unanglocised: “slangetjies”), two gold lined metal mugs and a carton with “UBISI” written on it. She looked absolutely stunning, but then again, many Black women look great in denims.
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