I hate game driving. Fuck you. Paying exorbitant amounts of money to be squashed between a fat, greasy American and a doe-eyed highschool student who wants to be "game ranger" in 40 degree weather, pointing animatedly at something just may be either a small buck or a stick, is not all it's cracked up to be, I'm afraid. This may come as a shock to those of you who had planned to go game driving sometime in the future. It's a fucking waste of time, effort and money. And, even if you do happen to stumble across a herd of wildebeest or whatever, all they do is fucking stand there. Oh look, it's a wildebeest. They look just like they do on TV. Only dustier and hotter. And way more expensive. You'd think that with the amount of cash spent at these overrated rustic hellholes, the animals could at least do an act. Maybe some amateur magic, a cabaret, or a passable wildlife re-enactment of Pasolini's Salo perhaps. (There are animals that actually like eating their own poo!) Then it might be something to behold. People don't have much money, and the wildlife industry is not up to scratch when it comes to value adds. Hippo mudwrestling would be much more appealing to your average punter than the dreary "it could be a white rhinoceros or an old anthill from here" routine.

But people have always paid far too much money to experience fuckall's doorstep. Thousands of dollars to sit in a chalet that's right next to... fuckall. If you look out the window, there's fuckall. And maybe you can go on a scenic drive and see more fuckall later. Then have some G&Ts on your rustic stoep as you marvel at the fuckall that stretches as far as the eye can see. Amazing how we've managed to sell fuckall to so many tourists, and the same fuckall they had last time. Sorry, we haven't had time to prepare any more fuckall.

But the fuckall of Africa has always been alluring to first world countries. The allure to see it, marvel at its beauty and magnificence, and then shoot it dead and take it home so no-one else can. But that's fine by me. If there's something South Africa has in abundance, it's fuckall. It's cheap, it's readily available, it doesn't take much basic intelligence to exploit, and people all around the world are flying in just to check it out. It's the "Sorry, my dog ate my homework" school of tourism. And you can take fat people round in sponsored vehicles just to show it to them. "Here you'll see how we haven't built a magnificent city that was called the 'Crown of Africa' almost 2 thousand years ago. And if you look to the west, you'll see no 500-feet high marble statues built to honour the gods that still, to this day, tower over the tomb of the king who built them. This river basin you can see here doesn't lead anywhere near a marvellous ancient dam that took 200 years and fourteen billions tons of bricks to construct." We just put a fence around fuckall, and charge money at the gate. It's brilliant. Because it's using the enemy's psychology against them — Americans think that if you pay huge amounts of money to see something, it must be fantastic. Even if it is sifting through 3-day old elephant shit and eating finger-foods.

Every unemployed person not in an urban area in South Africa could suddenly be empowered, and the curator of their very own People in Abject Poverty Museum of Natural History. Open up their very own curio shop selling tiny bits of fuckall you can take back to Arkansas with you. Charge $2000 to stalk a glue kid with a rifle. Would that raise the ire of millions of Carte Blanche viewers — canned adhesivist hunting? A glorious new era will dawn on our fair country where all are happy, healthy and well. And there will be no brain-damaged, snot-nosed little shit pressing his face up against my car window every morning. This virtual Nirvana can be achieved. But there's one simple thing that's missing, though, and it's a fairly decisive shortcoming. Our inability to prevent ourselves from raping, hijacking and shooting the first world tourists who come for a peek at fuckall. Now I'm not against human culling per se, but it does cut down on repeat visits and thus extra revenue that could easily go towards electricity or water or sterilisation at birth programmes.

I will make an exception for eco-tourists, though. These do-gooders are so brain damaged that they will spend huge amounts of cash to visit a pristine environment, where no man has ever set foot, just to see how pristine it is before they put their fucking feet there. No, asshole, you don't need to study it to make sure it's never harmed, just don't go there. You don't need to invade the jungle to count how many species of beetle there were before humans arrived, just leave it alone. "But I am a scientist, I am special. I am knowledgeable and superior." Just leave it alone, fucker. Don't be the asshole who jumps on a plant so you can report back to the UN about how long a human footprint takes to vanish from the Amazon.

Actually, shoot 'em all. I'll give you R1000 for every American you bring in tied to the roof of your taxi. R1200 if he still has his cowboy hat and I can mount it on the wall.