Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Rant

Andy Murray is a tennis player who can’t rant. The man is tedious, a bore, who makes it look like it’s a burden to talk. Watching the post match press conferences from The All England Tennis Championships in Wimbledon, the people from Sky Sports, hardly give him space because he is tedious and he can’t rant.


But I know of people who could like, Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Fidel Castro, Nikita Khrushchev and Muhammer Gadaffi. They were exceptional. They could rant for hours on end and the more they ranted, the more their rants did not make sense.

I am a ranter. I enjoy a good rant. When it comes to ranting, there are certain rules to be observed and when I rant, it is usually against traffic policeman, security guards, waiters and waitresses.

I let them decide the rules of the rant – are we going to rant like boxers do at a pre-match press conference? Are we going to be civil and try to keep our voices down? Or is it going to degenerate into finger pointing and rounded off with a melee? I let them decide for I am only too happy to play to any of the rules that they suggest.

The last rant I had was with Kisseka Market Mechanic. I knew I was going to rant because in my books, going to Kisseka Market = A rant. And I should have a beer beforehand but I didn’t.

No sooner had I parked, than Kisseka Market Mechanic was all over the ride diagnosing problems that the ride didn’t have. And I had only been there for less than thirty seconds and unleashed four tumbavu’s. Kisseka Market Mechanic was an irritant. He got under my skin, and the more he did, the more I saw the makings of a good rant taking place.

I ranted. I also kicked a stack of tyres that toppled over which aggravated the situation because they did not belong to him but somebody else. At that point there was no stopping me. I was on the verge of winning the ranting gold medal and just when I thought it was in my grasp, a police patrol pick-up laden with cops in full riot fatigues showed up and just like that, the rant war was over.

But I had made a point for as I drove off I heard one of the mechanics tell his friend that: “That man has a foul mouth!” And it made me feel good.

But the feel good factor didn’t last that long for as I checked my mail later during the day, there was a rant from Ernest Bazanye, the chap I usually share this double spread page with.

He was ranting because I copied his writing style. Pause there a minute for I hadn’t realized you can rant via e-mail. When EB rants, he rants and it was necessary to remove some of the stronger words he used. This is what he said:

“But you other columnists and your swagger jacking. Bad Idea was made with subheadings to differentiate it from other columns. Yours is personality-based musings about the characters writing.

Bad Idea was designed with the red subheads to show that it was not about the writer per se, it was just a different format. When the subs remove the subheads I even throw dung around like a furious monkey...”

Am sorry EB, I am really sorry I plagiarized your writing style. Please forgive me and I promise it won’t happen again. You were right to rant at me but can we still be friends?

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