Gramsci had heard from his UK cousin Bronstein that reporting and commentin the UK media had all made a point of mentioning that the judge had stopped short of dismissing the entire case, merely dismissing the current indictment - something which hadn't enjoyed nearly the same prominence in local media. At least, not in the liberal, white-aligned media that tended to cross his attention span. Where most of the staffers were probably on the Net applying for jobs in other countries rather than picking up news off the wires, their partners at home packing up and selling off the suburban house with swimming pool and 2.2 children and electric fence, he assumed, a Zuma presidency now looking ominously imminent.
The Cow wasn't so sure. There were other contenders in the wings, younger, smarter, better looking. Mind you, she conceded, youth was neither here nor there, and pretty much anyone was smarter and better looking. Come to think of it, wasn't that what Miss South Africa was about, these days? Not just who looked best in a bathing costume, but who could most authentically convince the judge that they cared very, very much about world peace and starving children?
Gramsci emerged, looking hopeful. Perhaps the process of choosing a new leader might be interesting, after all - only, in the interests of world peace and celestial harmony, please don't ask uMalume to parade in a speedo...