The 22nd year of being Ryan Hartley, documented.

Right now, all across America, a special time is drawing near. As the final precious days of summer draw to a close wholesome young teenagers from every corner of that great nation are returning from the various farms on which they spent long summer days bailing hay and rustling cattle in the Great Mid-West. From sea to shining sea the younger generation are turning their backs on days spent surfing and bronzing their youthful bodies. The teenagers of the United States are putting an end to their horse-riding, their bull-fighting, and their seal-clubbing, bear-baiting, dog-fighting and cat-calling. The American Summer Break draws to a close and with it comes the return of serialised television.

That fun-loving German, Karl Marx once said that religion was the opiate of the masses. He was wrong. Opium was the opiate of the masses. These days vast fields of poppies are harder to come by, so television has become the opiate of the masses. It dulls the pain of a sometimes harsh existence. I can only imagine what pain those poor little American children would experience if their favourite series where pulled from the air without any warning. In fact, if any large group of young people were suddenly deprived of the next episode of Greek or Gossip Girl there would certainly be dire consequences. But what would those consequences would be? As far as I can see there are two ways things could go. Instead of just telling you what they are I’m going to stretch your already wafer-thin patience and illustrate them through a complicated metaphor about (what else?) the difference between English and Afrikaans!

Last week, as I prepared to write a test for which I had spent my supposed ‘holiday’ studying, I made a linguistic discovery that shook the core of my understanding of Afrikaans culture. It was big. Almost as big as that time I realised that there is no Afrikaans word for ‘cousin’.  Here it is: When facing a challenging situation English well-wishers will say “Good Luck”, while those of the Afrikaans persuasion will say “Sterkte”. I can tell you’re all as blown away by that insight as I was. Let’s take a deeper look.

The English view is typically fatalistic: It’s all about luck. Nothing you do will make a difference, everything is just random chance; we’re all being bounced about in the pinball machine of life; you might as well put on a pair of skinny jeans and guy-liner, grow your fringe really long and mope about your parent’s house. Looking at the state of the world these days it is hard to deny that the truth in this proposition. For twenty-eight years it didn’t matter who you voted for in Zimbabwe, the result was always the same.  Even in America, the promised land of choice and democracy, your vote is merely a fa c ade. Americans have effectively been robbed of choice.  Vote for McCain and within a year or two this grizzled septuagenarian will shuffle off his mortal coil and you’re left with hockey-mom, Sarah Palin who no-one voted for. Vote Obama and I’ll be surprised if an intellectually elitist young man of Nigerian descent makes it through 2008 without being retired by the shadowy cabal of old-white-male conservatives who really run things over there. That would put Joe Biden in the White House and no-one even likes him. Closer to home: neither rain not sleet nor sinister Arms deals seem able to put a stop to the rise to power of our dear Uncle Zuma, friend of the ordinary folk. The Afrikaans view, however, is typically defiant: This is a world philosophy that believes that if you’re strong enough, you should be able to change the world by sheer force of will. This is the type of world view that opposes dictators, that climbs mountains, that sends food back in restaurants if it’s not to its liking. This is a world view that says: “What you do matters!” Cultures with this philosophy of life will not sit by and let tragedy overwhelm them.

It seems clear to me that in times of trouble, we Mighty Maties would follow the second philosophy. If we were to be deprived of our precious series, we would rise from our apathetic slumber to face that fearsome challenge and not merely sit back and accept our fate. Engineers would engineer, Innovators would innovate and Intellectuals would intellect and we would rise like a phoenix to a glorious new day! If that day ever came the challenge would be met head on and we would be victorious! Hypothetically speaking, of course.

“Hang on a moment, Carbon, you obstreperous bibliophile” you say, “Why don’t you stick to what we’re all used to by now? Give us a fluff piece where you talk about two different topics, throw in some overextended metaphor that no-one understands and the odd comment about how you’re more used to a mild climate instead of bombarding us with a discussion on who’s going to be the SRC Member for Trade and Industry. Discussing campus politics isn’t just courting disaster, it’s stalking it on Facebook, arriving at its home at night and then standing outside its window with a boom box over your head playing ‘Bleeding Love.’”  This is a valid query. The reason I’m venturing where angels fear to two-step is that I’m quite fond of the democratic process. I’m quite fond of it in the in the same way that teenagers are quite fond of Mxit or the way Karl Marx was quite keen sharing. As far as I’m concerned the democratic process is one of the only viable means of selection of leadership. In my mind it’s either that or a Survivor-type obstacle course with one of those giant-sized puzzles at the end.  I also like the momentary rush of power as I hold someone’s ambitions in my hand, but who doesn’t like that?

Obama believes in Democracy

 I believe in Democracy. The American Presidential Election is one of my favourite sporting events right up there with curling and luge. I’ve been supporting Obama since before Oprah thought it was cool and unless America thinks again and thinks McCain, I’m going to have the joy of seeing America with a President whose middle name is Hussein. I believe in election by the people. I believe in the intrinsic right of humanity to exercise free will and choice. I believe in karma what who give is what you get returned. I believe you can’t appreciate real love till you’ve been burned.  I also believe that less than 20% of Stellenbosch students vote in the SRC elections. Last year only 7 400 people voted.  That really isn’t a lot. Those of you who attended the Soen in die Laan will know that 7 400 looks like a lot less than you thought it would. It appears that to the vast majority of campus the SRC is pretty much the same as the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny.  People know about them, but are a little fuzzy on the specifics; you can’t see them unless it’s on some marketing poster; other people seem to get more out of it than you do; and in reality it’s just your mom.  The long and the short of it is that people round these parts just aren’t aware of what exactly it is that they do. I’m sure they do stuff, otherwise why would they exist? You could probably go to a Student Parliament Meeting if you really wanted to find out what is going on, but that’s a bit extreme isn’t it?  I suggest you follow my approach. I prefer keeping the idea of democracy pure without that whole messy business of getting people’s opinions on every issue. It’s much easier to value the idea of democracy than it is to actively participate in the process of leadership. Which is fine by me: easy is better. My advice to you is to vote in the SRC elections so that you can spend the rest of the year in cosy apathy while the business of leadership happens at a comfortable distance.  Go, Soldier of Democracy! Cast your vote!