{"id":241652,"date":"2021-08-27T08:32:11","date_gmt":"2021-08-27T08:32:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=241652"},"modified":"2021-08-31T16:45:56","modified_gmt":"2021-08-31T16:45:56","slug":"heavenly-hellish-cape-town","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/?p=241652","title":{"rendered":"Heavenly, Hellish Cape Town"},"content":{"rendered":"

Linh Dinh \u2013 The Unz Review Aug 26, 2021<\/strong><\/h1>\n

In my last two<\/a> articles<\/a>, I pointed out the obvious, that war profiteers, whorish politicians and Jewish social engineers are destroying America. (If this is still news to you, then you are either an infant or a world-class moron.)<\/p>\n

My indictment didn\u2019t sit well with several commenters, however, so I was accused of being, among other things, a warmonger, hater of whites, privileged immigrant who should give up my American passport and, get this, a \u201cJewish acolyte\u201d!<\/p>\n

Alexandros, \u201cForeigners really have no business commenting on the affairs of Europeans. It\u2019s normal to take criticism from your own, but not from your enemies. That is an affront.\u201d<\/p>\n

In short, all these brave yet incognito \u201cEuropeans\u201d were pissed at me for fingering those who were ramming truncheons up their asses!<\/p>\n

When the raped identify with their rapists to this degree, there\u2019s nothing anyone can do, especially a foreign enemy like me, so I\u2019m really sorry to have interrupted your oh-so-moreish coitus.<\/p>\n

The very foreign Taliban did more than comment on the affairs of Europeans! They gave the European Biden and the entire white world, what\u2019s left of it, quite a lot to suck on, but let\u2019s keep all the criticism in-house, among Europeans only, so do tune out everyone but Trump, Pelosi, Carson, Hannity, Hedges, Krugman, Goodman or Chomsky, etc. If you ever hear \u201cJew\u201d from any of them, in any context, please alert me!<\/p>\n

Holocaust! Remember the Holocaust. Six zillion gassed! Your baker, butcher, mailman, babysitter or grandma might be an ex Nazi guard at Auschwitz. Night and day, six billion Holocaust survivors convulse in fear of the next Holocaust. There\u2019s a life-sized Hitler crouching inside each goy, that\u2019s for sure. Torah! Torah! Torah!<\/p>\n

Now, I go back to writing about what I had for breakfast this morning, and what I see out my window.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>In Cape Town for three weeks, I\u2019ve come to love my neighborhood, Gardens, as well as adjacent Tamboerskloof<\/a> and City Bowl. Nearby Bo-Kaap is also very pleasant, of course.<\/p>\n

Those who know Kaapstad might interject, \u201cYo, these are all whitey neighborhoods! You wouldn\u2019t be riffing such free jizz had you relocated to Mitchells Plain.\u201d<\/p>\n

Since I\u2019m not there, I wouldn\u2019t know, but you\u2019re most likely right. Unless one\u2019s particularly suicidal, it\u2019s not prudent to move into a black township in South Africa, Chicago or Philadelphia. I ain\u2019t stupid.<\/p>\n

The worst Cape Town gang is The Americans, by the way. Though not as murderous as a US platoon jihading for Jews, these Americans are lethal enough. With Uncle Sam the champ at glamorizing violence, these Capetonians can\u2019t resist the cool brand.<\/p>\n

In Gardens, I\u2019ve established a routine. Most mornings, I eat breakfast at home, since I have a kitchen, but if I feel like treating myself, I head to Arnold\u2019s, just a five-minute downhill stroll away.<\/p>\n

Leaving my door, I\u2019m always astounded by the magnificent Table Mountain. Jutting straight up, it\u2019s a 3,500-foot-high granite and sandstone wall.<\/p>\n

On the way to Arnold\u2019s, I pass Thai, Vietnamese, Portuguese\/Mozambican, Italian, Arabic, Indian and Turkish restaurants, as well as a well-stocked Checkers Supermarket, and Soy Joy Oriental Food, with its fish, soy, teriyaki, hoisin, oyster and satay sauces, etc., plus bok choy, homemade kimchi and various Korean instant noodles.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>For $6.65 at Arnold\u2019s, I get coffee, two eggs, two thick slices of bacon, two hash browns, three pork chipolatas, two hunks of fried tomato, six chunks of eland steak and six chunks of ostrich steak. (Compare this feast<\/a> with the $5.56 McDonald\u2019s Big Breakfast with Hot Cakes, with its miserable single patty of jivey sausage.)<\/p>\n

To enter Arnold\u2019s, you must sign in and leave your phone number (or email) after having your temperature taken.<\/p>\n

I asked the young man, \u201cWhat\u2019s a bad temperature, man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty-seven. If you\u2019re at 27 or higher, you can\u2019t go in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHas anyone shown up like that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe it doesn\u2019t exist!\u201d We laughed. Always sprightly, he would even dance a few steps behind the cash register.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Like at most Cape Town restaurants, Arnold\u2019s waitstaff is entirely black. Since it opens at 6AM, the morning crew has to get up at 4. Vans<\/a>, called taxis here, bring them in from distant<\/a> townships<\/a>. In the dark and chill, OPEN in red neon shines above Arnold\u2019s roof.<\/p>\n

Nearly all of Arnold\u2019s customers are white. One morning, I met an Englishman. Escaping the always dismal UK winter, he arrived in December for a three-month holiday. Enjoying the cheery and sophisticated Cape Town so much, he decided to linger.<\/p>\n

When he applied for a visa extension in March, they took his passport and said he\u2019d receive an answer in eight to ten weeks, but he hadn\u2019t heard from them as of late August. Since he had a temporary ID, he\u2019s legal here, but without his passport, he couldn\u2019t leave.<\/p>\n

To get a visa extension in South Korea, all I had to do was schedule an appointment at the immigration office, then showed up days later to receive my approval within half an hour.<\/p>\n

To receive Covid-related welfare, South Africans must stay in line for two days, meaning they must sleep outside a government office, then wait four months to get their first payment.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the post-Apartheid South African bureaucracy for you. Corrupta et incompetens should be its motto, etched in stone.<\/p>\n

Here, only 8% of murders end with convictions, and just 7% of rapes. South African sidewalks, then, are swarming with uncaught murderers and rapists.<\/p>\n

Accused of rape, Jacob Zuma was acquitted. Knowing she was HIV positive, Zuma still didn\u2019t wear a condom, he said, but he did take a shower afterwards, to wash away the AIDS. If it\u2019s not meat on meat, it\u2019s meaningless, I suppose. Before becoming president of South Africa, Zuma was president of the African National Congress. The massive rioting in Durban recently was started by Zuma\u2019s supporters.<\/p>\n

(You can gauge a population\u2019s mental retardation by its superstitions. In one, morons actually believe a 47-story skyscraper can collapse in seconds, into its own footprint, without anything hitting it!)<\/p>\n

Any city is best explored on foot, so one day, I decided to trek down to Woodstock and Salt River.<\/p>\n

I was mindful, however, of a gentle warning I had received from an Unz reader, \u201cAs an old dog who\u2019s grown up around Cape Town, and having seen what this captured country\u2019s become, I go nowhere on foot anymore [\u2026] Cape Town has not been spared change for the worse. I can\u2019t help thinking that you may be taking your life into your own hands in deciding to go walk-about though. I pray to God that I\u2019m wrong.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>With each block, the eateries and shops became shabbier and funkier<\/a>. One advertised \u201cSURGERY<\/a>.\u201d Barbers had crudely lettered signs. Folks lined up for a gatsby, snoek and chips or fried chicken. It felt somewhat like a Philly ghetto, but livelier and less menacing.<\/p>\n

Seeing me taking photos, a thin colored kid of about 13 wanted to hold my camera, but I wouldn\u2019t let him. When I complained that my Canon 50D was a piece of shit that should be replaced, the kid said there was a pawn shop down the street that would buy it.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre uncle from China?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Vietnam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVietnam. It\u2019s close to China.\u201d<\/p>\n

When the kid asked to be photographed, I positioned my camera to have Subhan Superette and Devil\u2019s Peak in the background. Perched on his propped-up skateboard, the kid looked pretty good in his white knit cap and red hoodie.<\/p>\n

\u201cUncle, I\u2019ll pay you 20 rands [$1.33] for that photo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust give me your email and I\u2019ll send it to you,\u201d but the kid didn\u2019t even have one, so that was that.<\/p>\n

For lunch at an Indian-owned joint, I had half a Mozambican chicken, smothered in that hot and tangy peri sauce and coupled with spicy fries, then it was time for a beer or two. Bypassing a dim pub with just one customer at the far end, I entered one, Boum Boum Africa<\/a>, with three people sitting at the short bar. One, a woman, turned out to be the bartender.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>On the wall was a small photo of Mandela in a cheerful pose, with \u201cMADIBA<\/a>\u201d above him. A sign<\/a> forbade pot, pills and heroin. After ordering a large bottle of Castle for $1.66, I parked my sorrowful ass on a stool. I was home<\/a>.<\/p>\n

The two guys at the bar would sing along to the bouncy music. It was in a strange language. \u201cHey, what language is that?\u201d I asked after a while.<\/p>\n

\u201cLingala. From the Congos.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re from the Congos?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHim too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. We\u2019re all from the Congos.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>People would straggle in, often just to chat<\/a>, without ordering a drink. At the back, there was a barren restaurant.<\/p>\n

The guy I chattered with was named Trisure. Forty-three-years-old, he had a hair salon (which he pronounced as \u201csaloon\u201d), with 22 employees.<\/p>\n

\u201cWow, you are a big boss!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not really.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwenty-two employees, man. That\u2019s a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n

Later, he said, \u201cWe should go into business.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo man, I\u2019m not a businessman. I\u2019m a writer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA writer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I walk around. I talk to people like you, then I write about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou publish books?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe ten\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe should go into business together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, man. I\u2019m no businessman. I do not know how to make money.\u201d<\/p>\n

Suddenly, he proposed, \u201cHey, you need an African wife!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn African wife?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no,\u201d I laughed, \u201cbut if I change my mind, I\u2019ll look for you!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you need an African woman, like this,\u201d and he started to move his groin back and forth vigorously, with quite a serious face. Only I laughed. Had he copulated the air any harder, he would have fallen backward from his stool.<\/p>\n

Enough of this silliness, I thought, but he wouldn\u2019t drop it. Over the next half an hour, he would offer me black pussy at least ten more times. He also cadged me into buying a round for him and two buddies. Although I would have done it anyway, I didn\u2019t appreciate his crude hustling. Clearly, Trisure was no boss with 22 employees.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re my best friend,\u201d Trisure blurted. Going to the bathroom, he even said, \u201cI just need to go pee. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Trisure was afraid his prey would run away. Finally, I did, but only after refusing to lend this brokeass pimp some money. Trisure also wanted to take me, right then, to see a friend. Obviously, nothing good could come of that. That\u2019s how suckers get killed.<\/p>\n

In downtown one day, three guys, with two wearing security guard uniforms, tried very hard to get me to insert a credit card into an ATM, \u201cto get your photography license,\u201d except there\u2019s no such thing, and I don\u2019t even have a credit card.<\/p>\n

While there are crimes in all societies, the amount and nature in each are revealing. In Cape Town, a 27-year-old woman is on trial for allowing her 2-year-old daughter to be raped and tortured, with the baby\u2019s genitals burnt and her body bitten.<\/p>\n

Already jailed for two years, she cried in court and said she was willing to pay up to 10,000 rands [$666] to be released.<\/p>\n

Also in Cape Town, a 25-year-old man has just been charged with the rape and murder of a 93-year-old woman he and his mother lived with.<\/p>\n

In Belgrade, Serbia, I heard children\u2019s sweet voices outside my bedroom window nearly daily. In Tirana, Albania, I saw kids playing everywhere, often unattended. In Cape Town\u2019s better neighborhoods, children are rarely seen outside well-fenced schools.<\/p>\n

I met a young Boer from upcountry who had had four phones snatched from him in eight years, all on Long Street. Although just one phone lost every two years isn\u2019t too bad, just an upgrading opportunity, more or less, he can skip this wealth redistribution altogether by avoiding Long Street, except there are so many cool and stimulating bars there.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>In Athlone<\/a>, I met a colored woman who had her phone stolen that morning, at gunpoint. The black mugger was not from her colored township, she pointed out. What was most remarkable was her composure in relaying all this.<\/p>\n

Now, Cape Town is a very spread-out city, with most neighborhoods having a suburban or small town feel. With distance or natural barriers, you can be safely cocooned inside Camps Bay, Century City, Sea Point or even Observatory, etc. In the last, white, colored and black hipsters swarm trendy taverns each evening.<\/p>\n

In exurban Muizenberg, Fish Hoek or Simon\u2019s Town, you can surf or sun daily, or sit back in a chic restaurant and munch on calamari, Korean chicken wings, pulled beef sarmie, sushi or a soothing chicken and mushroom pie, just like your English great-great-grandma used to make. In Noordhoek, you can ride your $10,000 horse on a long, white-sanded beach.<\/p>\n

Staying in Gardens, I\u2019m removed from the worst of South Africa, obviously, just as you\u2019re safe from the realities of Baltimore, Camden, Gary or East Saint Louis, etc.<\/p>\n

Like the USA, South Africa has pockets of civility, sophistication and joie de vivre not far from the most hellish on earth, and in each nation, barbarity has been gaining, it\u2019s obvious. I\u2019ve talked to South Africans who are convinced theirs can be checked, however, or even reversed. If that\u2019s true, Americans may overtake them on the highway to hell.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Jews had a large role in tearing down Apartheid. At Cape Town\u2019s Jewish Museum, there\u2019s an exhibition, \u201cGround Breakers:<\/a> A History of Progressive Judaism in South Africa.\u201d Flanking the museum are the Tikvah Synagogue and Cape Town Holocaust<\/a> and Genocide Centre. Post-Apartheid, most South African Jews have remained, so clearly, they\u2019re not too nervous about their future or money here.<\/p>\n

(Oh, how I suffer by not being close to Goldies or Kleinsky\u2019s Delicatessen! How can any man go so long without his pastrami on rye, schmeared bagel or latkes?! Yahweh, you are unfair!)<\/p>\n

With Cape Town\u2019s spectacular scenery, first-rate food and many fewer Covid-related<\/a> restrictions, I\u2019m glad to be here, and not, say, in Philadelphia, New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Portland or Seattle, etc.<\/p>\n

In these uncertain times, one must be grateful for any oasis, no matter how temporal or tiny.<\/p>\n

Linh Dinh\u2019s<\/em><\/strong> latest book is Postcards from the End of America<\/a>. He maintains a regularly updated photo blog<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Source<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Linh Dinh visits beautiful, vibrant Cape Town where only 8% of murders end with convictions, and just 7% of rapes. A city where a 27-year-old woman is on trial for allowing her 2-year-old daughter to be raped and tortured<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":146,"featured_media":241653,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[61],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-241652","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-Commentary"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241652","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/146"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=241652"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241652\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":241665,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/241652\/revisions\/241665"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/241653"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=241652"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=241652"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thetruthseeker.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=241652"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}