North Korean Mousse Season Opens


kim jong-un north korea submarine missile launch

Male university students in North Korea are now required to get the same hairstyle, again, as their leader Kim Jong-un.

Earlier this year, a state-sanctioned guideline was introduced in the capital Pyongyang, followed by a country wide roll-out. The decree had its detractors, and for good reason: “Our leader’s hairstyle is very particular, if you will,” one source reported. “It doesn’t always go with everyone since everyone has different face and head shapes.” One North Korean, now living in China, stated the look was unpopular as it was thought to make those doning it resemble Chinese smugglers. “Until the mid-2000s,” he was quoted, “we called it the ‘Chinese smuggler haircut’.”

The new decree, made shortly after the successful test-launch of a submarine ballistic missile on May 9, has nearly every student up in arms. “This new style is impossible to duplicate and harder to manage”, says one student who wishes, obviously, to remain anonymous. “You get the edges and sides clipped and the top wind-blown wild and gelled – just right – and the next minute the little quiff of a fringe moves out slightly and there’s this soldier breathing down your neck! What am I going to tell my parents if I get detention? We’re spending a fortune on barber bills and there’s hardly even any food to eat in this country! I’m thinking of giving up my Socialist Studies and smuggling myself South of the border. At least I have the right haircut for that.”

Another student, with similar woes – sheltering from the wind and applying gel repeatedly using a compact mirror, tells of how the guideline has sparked a capitalist revival in the hair-styling industry, with barbers and stylists competing directly for customers by not only lowering their prices but showcasing their skills in marathon blowdry show-offs, events often marked by fete attractions, selfie parades and de-popularised music from Seoul. The decree has also allowed capitalism to rear its ugly, if not entirely shaven head in a more predictable manner, with figures from the small appliance retail sector and the home cosmetics industry showing sharp increases in the sales of blowdryers, hot air turbo stylers, ionic hair setters, spray gels, volume and controlling mousses and extreme texture root lifters, as well as a variety of other items not traditionally acquired by and associated with your average 16 – 25 year old North Korean male.

“One wonders where it will all end,” ponders a less than emphatic youth complete with quiff, wind-structured stand-up gelled-tips and mousse-managed flairs, “Should our esteemed leader one day begin losing his hair we’re going to be in for a very awkward and uncomfortable period in our country’s officially recognised history.”

(c) Routers


UCT Unveils Zuma Statue Plans

Rhodes Statue

And in other news, with the removal of the recumbent Rhodes statue from their grounds, The University of Cape Town’s Senate has announced plans to erect a new statue in its place.

While the process may seem unnaturally hurried, according to UCT Vice Chancellor, Max Price, who has gone on record previously by stating he too had called for the removal of the Rhodes statue, in his more heady days as a student activist, the university has consulted with both the Heritage Foundation and various activist  groups, (many of which have sprung up literally overnight in the wake of the #RhodesMustFall controversy) to replace the now vacant plinth spot with a statue of struggle hero and current president, Jacob Zuma.

The new statue, commissioned by the Senate and pending approval by the Heritage Foundation and the City Council, will feature Zuma in the regal pose of counting on his fingers. Bronzed, for ease of reference, and to avoid any likely discolouration in the event of future protests against then defunct regimes, outlines for the statue, which will stand at just under 6 metres tall (so as not to challenge the standing of a former, though possibly equally revered statesman) will be unveiled at a university function on 27 April, in honour of Freedom Day.

The EFF, while approached, were unavailable for comment, though one wonders how long the statue of Zuma will remain unmolested of charges that it Pay Back The Money. They have, however, come under some fire from ANC Chief Whip, Stone ‘no-pun-intended’ Sizani for the subsequent defacement of the statue of Louis Botha’s horse, an unashamedly racist beast by all accounts, in front of Parliament.

(c) Routers

Social Media

I Wrote A Poem On Social Media But Nobody Liked it

It was a post modern moment of a regurgitated soul but
I wrote a poem on social media and nobody liked it. I spent
the whole day ticking everybody’s status boxes but when I sat
down to write something seemingly significant and deliberately
poignant nobody gave a fuck –

On a level that makes me feel particularly small and insignificant
almost as if none of this is real and we are all simply staring blindly
into space through our desktop plasma screens our liquid crystal
OLED phone screens our smart tablet touchscreens at a world
that doesn’t exist beyond duckfaces and viral memes and
facebook events that nobody attends –

I’m trying very hard to get over myself in the light of more pressing
concerns scrolling briefly through my newsfeed – the endless death of
the bees from neonicothinoid pesticides produced by BAYER and
SYNGENTA – the Giant Specific Rubbish Heap that is getting more
and more specific with every plastic bag gadget trinket we
purchase during our ongoing role as modern consumers
for the petroleum meta-industry that rules the world
from The Vatican (where the second species lives
with elongated skulls hidden beneath their mitres) –

All the while trying to write a poem on social media without
the NSA getting in the way and subverting my thoughts
and planting terrorist subplots in my small business model
airplane so they can completely undermine my integrity
in the light of greater issues of more permanent importance –
like fracking and burning water and earthquake lights
in California like unmapped asteroids hiding behind the sun
like water on the moons of Jupiter or in the rings of Saturn
that we will never mine no matter how many science
fiction writers we shoot towards the moon –

And I wrote a poem on social media but all the comments
went missing suddenly like Malaysian Airlines flight MH370
that warped between cartesian planes astride the dreams
of Tesla who once upon a time powered the whole wide
world on a network that doesn’t require shares to run –

And I wrote with my tongue in both my cheeks like broken
teeth about bankrolled bullies who brought the skyscrapers
down in Iceland and Scotland and Greece and Italy
and Spanish Omelettes – And I wrote about disease in
Africa and multidrugresistantbacteria and our love
for antibiotics like skopas popcorn – And I wrote about
NATO encircling Russia like a swarm of tsetsiflies
and Nuclear Lullabies and lies, lies, lies – And I wrote
and I wrote and I wrote and nobody liked a fucking thing –

It was almost as if I was born too soon, having spent my
youth hunkered over dirty chunky 386 keyboards before
the internet was cool, gritty and sweaty and irreconcilable
and unshaven and full of godforsaken angst living the
miserable life of a true to jesus geek before guys
with beards came along –

Maybe they don’t like the poem I wrote on social media
because I don’t confess to owning a social consciousness
or a finger on the pulse or a finger up your ass every time
you jump up and post a selfie on Instagram –
Maybe it’s because I don’t give a fuck who did what at
The Cannes I simply wait to download all the xvids (oops!) 

Maybe it’s all beyond me and I wrote a poem on social
media and nobody even opened the note because I’m
simply not as cool or relevant as Jay-Z or JZ or Jimmy
fucking Kevin Carter Kasper Patrols I lived in a
basement playing 8-bit video games I was never
fuckingpopular and now all of a sudden I expect
a round of applause for merely plugging in
and smiling in your general miserable
direction –

It’s entirely possible that I wrote a poem on social media and nobody liked it.
In retrospect this would not be the first time I’ve supplicated myself before the
footstool pedestal of your magnanimous veneration only to find blankstares
and dissonance while the world outside rots to shit. This would not be the first
time the carbon monoxide emissions have gone to my head
while your omissions go straight to my fucking heart –

In retrospect I fell hopelessly in love with all of you the moment that first
email was sent and CIA agents highfived their genius selves in some secret
bunker where I’ve been living ever since – a misshapen gollum struggling to
grab onto an unnamable unfathomable unimpressionable precious that kills
kills kills without ever giving anything back – And I wrote, after all that
A poem on social media and nobody liked it but that’s OK
here’s a picture of a cat

grumpy cat tshirt terrorist propaganda post

Hello Darkness

operation blackout



Eskom has mismanaged our power resources.
The ANC’s electoral promise of Free Electricity was sheer lunacy.
Coal fired power stations are a thing of the past.
Renewable energy projects are not up to speed.

There are too many things wrong with this picture. 

In this country there is an unprecidented opportunity for the exploration of
#greenenergy alternatives.
We’re building nuclear plants. And still getting it horribly wrong.


we deserve better than this…

#BLACKOUT your SM profile pic


Most Interesting Man

the most interesting man in south africa


most interesting man i don't always

jozi taxi style


Only those who have traveled in commuter (combi) bus taxis in South Africa will understand. If you sit in front you have to collect the money from the other passengers. And don’t get the change wrong. Just don’t. Be like the most interesting man in South Africa and collect the money and don’t get the change wrong. Trust me on this, I’m a taxi Jedi.

Taking the Pistorius



In deciding on a decent title for our detour through the moral degeneracy that is the televised Oscar Pistorius trial (and let’s be honest here this media circus is nothing more than an ad grab, ratings gag by impoverished (by their standards) broadcast execs – the price of BMWs and Clifton mansions has skyrocketed in post-Nkandla, emerging market South Africa) we had to dig deeper than usual. Actually, no. The shit is spread so cheaply and thin across the surface that it makes an easy gig for jammers.

We’d like to state for the record that here at Tshirt Terrorist we do have standards. As difficult as this may be for you to accept we seldom stoop to the gross and pitying levels of public Jerry Springer-style fistfight fests. Instead we enjoy a more sophisticated romp through the topical landscape that adds to our collective cultural clime this side of the millennial divide.

And yet, it is hard sometimes not to dip into the swill stagnating around the lowest common denominator events that seem to pull the most interest, and in much the same way accident scenes slow traffic, we have taken our lead from those around us and stopped to gawk. Our decision to add colour to a set that is already as dayglo as a newly-sprung coon carnival has been made under considerable duress. We’d rather there were something better on the tube but all the channels are tuned to dumb.  

So we jumped on the bandwagon with both feet now firmly planted in the manure of our times. Slow out the starting blocks we have generated a fair turn of pace through the final bend and we’re heading into the home straight with the finish line clearly in sight… and digging beneath the surface of our own stock pools we found this beauty from a CELL C spoof we did a while back. It’s the old branding, but what better way to stay out of the dock ourselves than by using an image that has outlived it’s economic purpose in much the same way, we suppose, certain athletic sponsors have survived their own Oscar romance.

Here then, our take on the outcome. Less the need to assign levels of blame – our circus has but one cage where all the animalsbelong. Do Not Pass GO. Do Not Collect Another Eight Olympic Medals. Villain or Victim it matters not when there is a balance to be restored. Stop the rubberneck circle jerking and carry on with your lives. Nothing to see here. Nothing at all.

Cellblock C - for your sins

Mangaung Style

Now, a few words from our president…

gangnam style spoof jacob zuma mangaung style

Mangaung Style
english translation 

Oupa is Mangaung style
Mangaung style

A country that wants a man to lead them and gets an old man
Not as great as the last old man but still an old man
A country that could use a little direction not graft
although we all work hard for the tax man

I’m a guy who marries many women
I’ve got a carbon footprint the size of Nkandla
I can blame everything on apartheid
once we had goats now we have scapegoats
that kind of guy

Gullible, controllable
yes you, hey, yes you, hey
ungovernable, unemployable
yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Now let’s strike until the end

Oupa is Mangaung style, Mangaung style
Oupa is Mangaung style, Mangaung style
Oupa is Mangaung style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oupa is Mangaung style
Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

A country that needs foreign investment and border control
monetary policy that doesn’t deepen pockets
already stretched from national tenders
An elite that doesn’t become more elite everyday
and more separated from the masses
with every dodgy transaction

I’m a guy that couldn’t really do much about anything like that
but I’m in charge and that’s the battle won
what the rest of the country does with itself is not my concern
that kind of guy

Gullible, controllable
yes you, hey, yes you, hey
marginal, unmanagable
yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Now let’s strike until the end

Oupa is Mangaung style, Mangaung style
Oupa is Mangaung style, Mangaung style
Oupa is Mangaung style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oupa is Mangaung style
Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

I could lead us all to greatness if I were a different man
but that would only get in the way of my personal ambitions
and my next wedding celebration
I’m the headcop on this e-toll highway to hell
and I enjoy big lunches so wallets out! wallets out!

You know what I’m saying
Oupa is Mangaung style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oupa is Mangaung style
Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh