When I was a little boy, I was fed a certain brand of porridge for breakfast.
Now, in terms of journalistic ethics, I probably shouldn’t mention its name (Jungle Oats). For in theory, I could be hauled before the Zondo commission and asked whether someone slipped me 12 dozen boxes of the stuff gratis so that I would publicly endorse it. Or, if it were still in session, I could have been summoned, for the same reason, to The South African National Editors’ Forum’s “independent panel inquiring into media ethics and credibility,” which recently announced its findings and recommendations.
Anyway, when I became a man, I put away childish things, especially porridge – and especially because I had discovered two eggs fried in butter (or marge, not oil), bacon, beans, sausage, mushrooms (maybe), toast, and coffee. Still, when I grew even older, I learned that it would be far better for my health to return to porridge and eschew bacon n’ eggs. (Not that I have; I prefer the latter, finish en klaar. The flesh is weak, as the Bible tells us; or the taste buds are.)
I have irritated you with these maunderings about porridge and so on because turning to the forementioned Sanef report, I must say that my experience of going through it has been strikingly similar to my memory of eating porridge.
First, once you have ventured into reading the report, there seems no end in sight. If you can bear another solipsistic digression, the following might help communicate what I am trying to express.
When my parents were in their middle seventies and my father only a few years from death, they attended (heaven knows why) a performance of the Siegfried “section” of Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen. This was at the Artscape in Cape Town (probably the Nico Malan then) and the event was sort of what the Brits refer to as a command performance; all the great and good were there, including the German ambassador.