Dug's First published article
Over 21 years ago I got this small piece published in a student rag. What is astounding is that the basic message hasn't changed. Can you pick up what the them is?
Story: Writing on the wall
(Published in Imprint, University of Cape Town; March 1985)
The hyper-busy editorial office of ASCENT gets a tip-off that there is a “Big Story” in town. A story about Cape Town’s underworld.
The overworked, but intelligent Editors, know what to do. They send their star reporter to the scene, the Intrepid Joe Student.
Joe Student hits Cape Town bus terminus around eight on Friday night. She walks resolutely through the concourse of closed shops and tired guards.
Joe walks up the still escalators and past the nodding fat guard out into the half moon night.
The windmill lunch box lies ahead. The sign over the entrance is painted red and blue. The windmill lunch box is a sleazy tavern that opens after 8.00 and is renowned for its dark seats where prostitutes and merchants can sit and relax while dealing with clients.
A large gold emblazoned scrawl on the wall at the entrance to the windmill proclaims CTS.
Aha thinks Joe Student, the Cape Town Scorpions control this place Joe prides herself in her research work. She knows that the CTS are the main dope dealers in Cape Town, Big importers.
Out of the windmill struts a woman of unknown age. She wears a tight pair of black leather pants, and 6 inches of high heels.
Big XR6, mag wheels deluxe tyre stops and the woman leans into the passenger side window. After some talk, the woman gets into the
car and it drives of fast. Prostitute? Why not?
Yes, Joe sees things happen in inner-city Cape Town. Whores, merchants, pimps, roanees, taxi drivers, sailors, “Nite” clubs, bergies, drunks, alternative types and all the rest.
This is part of the real world thinks our Joe Student. How come our university life reflects so little of this hard world?
Joe Student returns to the hectic offices of ASCENT without a story. Sad though, cause Joe saw so much. But some how it all got loft in the translation.
I mean, how do you tell your average student that life is more than countless fish-braais at Hout Bay and Champagne Breakfasts at Hangklip. How does one translate the graffiti on the walls of the inner city – into newsprint for rich cotton wool wrapped babies who spend every vac at Plett?
The split’s too big. The writing’s on the wall.
Story: Writing on the wall
(Published in Imprint, University of Cape Town; March 1985)
The hyper-busy editorial office of ASCENT gets a tip-off that there is a “Big Story” in town. A story about Cape Town’s underworld.
The overworked, but intelligent Editors, know what to do. They send their star reporter to the scene, the Intrepid Joe Student.
Joe Student hits Cape Town bus terminus around eight on Friday night. She walks resolutely through the concourse of closed shops and tired guards.
Joe walks up the still escalators and past the nodding fat guard out into the half moon night.
The windmill lunch box lies ahead. The sign over the entrance is painted red and blue. The windmill lunch box is a sleazy tavern that opens after 8.00 and is renowned for its dark seats where prostitutes and merchants can sit and relax while dealing with clients.
A large gold emblazoned scrawl on the wall at the entrance to the windmill proclaims CTS.
Aha thinks Joe Student, the Cape Town Scorpions control this place Joe prides herself in her research work. She knows that the CTS are the main dope dealers in Cape Town, Big importers.
Out of the windmill struts a woman of unknown age. She wears a tight pair of black leather pants, and 6 inches of high heels.
Big XR6, mag wheels deluxe tyre stops and the woman leans into the passenger side window. After some talk, the woman gets into the
car and it drives of fast. Prostitute? Why not?
Yes, Joe sees things happen in inner-city Cape Town. Whores, merchants, pimps, roanees, taxi drivers, sailors, “Nite” clubs, bergies, drunks, alternative types and all the rest.
This is part of the real world thinks our Joe Student. How come our university life reflects so little of this hard world?
Joe Student returns to the hectic offices of ASCENT without a story. Sad though, cause Joe saw so much. But some how it all got loft in the translation.
I mean, how do you tell your average student that life is more than countless fish-braais at Hout Bay and Champagne Breakfasts at Hangklip. How does one translate the graffiti on the walls of the inner city – into newsprint for rich cotton wool wrapped babies who spend every vac at Plett?
The split’s too big. The writing’s on the wall.
posted by Dug | 9:02 AM
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