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Pope Chronicles: The Ministry of Deputy Boyfriends
Pope Chronicles: The Ministry of Deputy Boyfriends
Pope Chronicles: The Ministry of Deputy Boyfriends
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Pope Chronicles: The Ministry of Deputy Boyfriends

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The one thing that men fear the most, after their wives and mothers that is, is being cuckolded. This fictional memoire is a tongue in cheek self-help manual to unburden men of this fear. Misappropriating religious and political jargon and theories, the memoire tackles issues that the modern men is faced with in his amorous relations with the opposite sex. In the main, the memoire highlights the role played by deputy boyfriends in assisting men in relating with their lovers. Its premise is that due to a host of factors, patriarchy chief among them, the majority of men are handicapped in loving a woman. Thus creating a vacuum – and as the Commander in Chief Julius Malema is wont to say; nature doesn’t allow a vacuum.

The memoire is written from the perspective of Yosef abuYeshua II, former pontiff of the Holy Alliance of Deputy Boyfriends and leader in the ministry of deputising. He explores the major moments of the ministry during his papacy, utilising the official statements from the papal office with explanatory commentary. This to bring to light the work of the Alliance and its position on the contentious issues of the day. It is the ultimate appraisal of all the deputy boyfriends, from the original deputy boyfriend Joseph who deputised God to South Africa’s very own Dali Mpofu who deputised for Tata Nelson Mandela.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMpho Matsitle
Release dateDec 21, 2016
ISBN9781370462735
Pope Chronicles: The Ministry of Deputy Boyfriends
Author

Mpho Matsitle

Mpho Matsitle writes and thinks in music – the only language he understands – and believes that everything must be subjected to the unforgiving scrutiny of black radical thought. He fancies himself an immortal black existentialist and a libertine. He claims he’s just a collection of ideas and passions – all mind and soul – and thus does not recognise his body nor take any responsibility for the actions thereof. Which would explain his devotion to thought and art, and somewhat neglected (shabby?) appearance.Born and bred in Kanana, the mining township of Orkney in the little dorpie Klerksdorp, raised in a wonderful church by a loving family, a graduate of the University of the Free State and now by default a denizen of Bloemfontein where he works and wards off philistinism with his magic provocations.He’s a leader of several special concern movements (that exist mainly in his head) including but not limited to the men’s rights tripartite: the Holy Alliance of Deputy Boyfriends, the National Association of Husbands And Boyfriends (NAHAB) and the National Union of Ben10s of South Africa (NUBSA).Lover to all, friend to few, intellectual leader to some, comrade to many. A reader, Facebook griot, patron of the arts, lifestyle fraudster, coffee connoisseur, and Jazz junkie.Writing is something that happened to him. First and foremost it makes him happy. Secondly and equally important it amuses him. He also happens to believe that he’s pretty good at it – and this also warms him up inside; which is always a good reason to do something.Currently working on a series of provocations called “State of Mangaung Arts” and sitting on a manuscript for a novella, “Kleva Tsa Westdene” (it's too good! He'd feel like a fraud claiming he wrote it) – a reprise to his intellectual leader's “Fools Of Melville”.

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    Book preview

    Pope Chronicles - Mpho Matsitle

    A MEMOIRE

    POPE

    CHRONICLES

    THE MINISTRY OF DEPUTY BOYFRIENDS

    The accounts of

    Yosef abuYeshua II

    as narrated to

    Mpho Matsitle

    © Mpho Matsitle 2016

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy or any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

    Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental

    Dedicated to

    The Intellectual Hooligan

    #1 Lifestyle Fraudster

    The Dawg of Life

    COACH TT MOSIKIDI

    Long Live The DOL Live Long!

    Prologue

    Ba si thatha phi

    Isibindi esingaka

    So ku thanda mfaz’omnyama

    Ba mthande bodwa?

    There are things that just completely boggle the mind. Like people who still smoke. And men who think they can love a black woman, all on their own, with no assistance whatsoever. Thixo!

    Do they care to know what a black woman is? Clearly they have no clue. According to these unrepentant cretins, the black woman – the very same cursed being who singlehandedly carries die hele black nation on her shoulders – is but just another body among other bodies.

    They do not know, these decadent philistines, of the labyrinth matrix of her needs, desires, passions, postures and voices. When they hear her lion’s roar; they turn deaf to her pussy’s mew. When they see her beautifully crafted weave; they turn blind to the rebellious afro fermenting beneath. When they rush to rescue her in distress; they forget that she too is their messiah.

    They’re myopic; in their Machiavellian thinking process. They are incapable of living with contradictions, these our heathen brothers. They know not that two opposing truths can both hold. That she is both weak and strong. That she aches just like a woman, but she breaks like a little girl.[1]

    Why is this so? Why can’t they get it?

    Of all black children, aged 0 to over 100 years, the black man is the most childish. He alone amongst all black creatures fancies himself a sire not the serf he is. He has conjured for himself a place in which he lords over all the other animals in the black zoo. He has appropriated for himself a place as the head nigger in charge of the plantation; which he has convinced himself that he rules. The true masters of the plantation have only been too happy to allow him to play conduit to their terror and violence – and to be their scapegoat when the time for reckoning comes.

    Blinded by this illusion of grandeur, it is no surprise that the black man fancies himself capable – as a matter of fact – of loving a black woman. Hence, he makes no effort to neither study, hear, see, know nor understand her. As thus; he is eternally handicapped!

    It is thus incumbent upon us, the enlightened of our sex, to bring these poor wretched creatures to the light. It is upon us to assist them to at least be able to reciprocate the love of the black woman – that horridly terrifying love of a mother hiding her rapist son under her skirt. Ours has always been to assist the black man in loving a black woman. But because of the handicap described above; the black man is completely disagreeable to aid. We got this, in their stupidity they arrogantly proclaim.

    As ours is a holy ministry that cannot be encumbered by neither a hostile host nor disillusioned disciple; we had to find a way to forge ahead. It has thus come to pass that for over two millennia; we have worked clandestinely to assist the black man in loving the black woman – it is our duty after all to assist these brothers of ours by any means necessary.

    However, this tact has not proven successful in humbling these bedevilled brothers in coming to terms and acknowledging their handicap; in fact, quite the contrary. As they put in no effort but see these our sisters happy – due in small part to our tireless work – they have grown more arrogant about their so-called game.

    Their arrogance has grown to such frightful proportions that they will shun and shame any woman who is not seized by mirth at their mere presence. Verily,

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