Buchan hell! That's poor Cape Town down the drain ... literally
Brace yourselves. Angus Buchan prophesised that the Cape's dams would be full by the end of March, and there's only a week to go
Four months ago I wrote a column that had to be retracted.
Misreading a news report, I claimed that Mmusi Maimane had attended a prayer day at parliament featuring the alleged preacher, Angus Buchan. Mr Maimane had, in fact, not been present – it was his wife, Natalie, who had attended the event – and the column was rightly retracted and deleted from all Tiso Blackstar platforms.
I was sorry for that mistake. As I told my readers on Facebook in an apology later that day, I have only one job as a commentator – to get the facts right – and I had let them down.
But I was also sorry for another reason. My blunder had required the piece to be deleted from public view, which meant my impressions of Buchan had also disappeared.
Fortunately, when Odin shuts a door he sometimes hacks open a window, and this week I have a perfectly legitimate reason to write about Buchan again. And because I still stand by every word I wrote about him in November, I am going to take the liberty of resurrecting pieces of that exorcised column, to call bullshit once again on someone who should never be allowed within a city block of parliament.
Of course, none of this outcry is new. Buchan’s critics – or as I refer to them, people who’ve read more than one book – have been aghast for years. His homophobia is a matter of public record and he takes pride in an attitude to women that has been copied and pasted directly out of a Taliban recruitment poster.“It is very hard for a husband to love his wife when she insists on wearing the trousers and refusing to submit,” he infamously wrote in 2004. “The children become traumatised when the wife belittles the so-called head of the house, or he beats up his wife because she will not submit.”
Yep, nothing like traumatising the kids because you’ve had to do your husbandly duty by assaulting your uppity wife to put her back in the place assigned to her by the God of Love.
Despite this medieval barbarism, however, Buchan pulls in vast, fairly affluent crowds. And to understand why, you need look no further than his hat.
Buchan’s black Stetson is often described as his “trademark”, and the implications of that word – of a merchant selling a product – provide a fair summary of what Buchan does. The hat, however, is more than simple branding. It is pure psychological manipulation; a brilliant prop in a pantomime of pious machismo.
As I wrote in November: “Instead of wrestling with esoteric or abstract notions of God, Buchan has reached straight for the balls of patriarchal masculinity, appealing unapologetically to the sort of man whose self-worth is linked to his idea of himself as a rough-hewn frontiersman, or, at the very least, a ‘traditional’ man heading a ‘traditional’ household. This is as much about testes as Testaments.
“To be such a man is to find oneself an anachronism, attacked or at least threatened by modern liberal madness like gender equality and secularism. And the more this fragile, frightened identity is threatened, adrift in a world gone mad, the more it needs a firm, no-nonsense father figure to provide comfort and counsel.
“Which is where God’s cowboy rides into town, part John the Baptist, part John Wayne, that black hat striking terror into the hearts of the atheist feminists who have turned the place into a hotbed of sin.”Nope, I’m not a fan of Angus Buchan. But why bring any of this up now?
Well, you see, it’s March. The last week of March, in fact. Which means it’s time to follow up on the Hatted Hatemonger’s most audacious con in recent history: the prophecy, made back in November, that Cape Town’s dams would be full by the end of March.
Of course, in the age-old tradition of profiteering prophets, Buchan subsequently hedged that bet, explaining in February that Cape Town’s sinners might keep the rain from falling. It was a beautiful example of the bait-and-switch that lies at the sordid heart of the preaching racket: you can never be wrong, because the devil is a trickster and keeps shifting the goalposts. It’s a licence to print money.
Still, I’d like to keep Buchan to his original word, and ask him for advice on how to survive the impending apocalypse. Because if he’s right, Cape Town is about to be wiped off the map.
It’s basic maths.
To fill the dams, well over a trillion litres of water will have to fall over the catchment areas. That’s over a metre of rain in the next five days.
Alarmingly, there is no rain predicted for today or tomorrow or Friday or Saturday. There is, however, a chance of showers on Thursday.
Which means that 1,000mm-plus is all going to come down on Thursday; a deluge that will send Cape Town sliding into the sea.
Perhaps that’s the fate we sinners deserve for allowing this pimp of prejudice to preach in our parliament. So let me repent, by reaching for the Good Book and quoting the Gospel of Matthew: “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.”
Sheep’s clothing. Or sometimes just a black cowboy hat.