I don’t watch SA Idols. I consider this a character strength. Any good it may have once represented has been dead for so long that the fellow currently holding the whip is simply flogging mushy ground and bone chips.
As far as soulless, moneymaking schemes go, it’s frigging genius. As a magnifying glass held up to the face of South African popular culture, however, it illuminates every pockmark, blister and cruddy scab carefully concealed by the corpse-white, harlot’s base lathered on by the pimps and pit bosses of the SA popular music scene.
