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Possibly because he has been around for so long, and been so commercially successful, there are many who would reduce the late Hugh Masekela to the status of a cultural cliche, someone who surrendered to their own Disneyfication. But if you were ever sufficiently blessed to witness a performance from the older Masekela, the untruth of this suggestion is self-evident. Masekela on stage was a man on fire, bringing to the air the true howl that US poet Alan Ginsberg used to describe the core of pain and joy as it is broadcast through the medium of jazz.
Of course, Masekela’s oeuvre extends well beyond jazz, but it has at its heart the effortless, discordant notes of truth that characterise the work of the finest jazz musicians. And his rough, sweet compassionate voice is so much bigger than a single human being. Like his compatriot and friend Miriam Makeba, Masekela lived in the slipstream of history’s river.
But while he is an icon of the 20th Century, that doesn’t stop him blowing his mouth off about anything and everything. When I ask him later, if he would ever enter politics as a politician, he says that he’d be taken out almost instantly. People would not be too fond of his unpalatable truth if spoken from Parliament.
On his album, Time, for example, Masekela chastises those who have been privileged by the existence of apartheid for their uncharitable and ungenerous response to what has happened here since. Towards the end of our interview Masekela is talking about the white businesses who have benefited so much, first from apartheid, and then from liberation. “They didn’t even come and say ‘dankie kaffirs’.” ['Kaffir' is an extremely derogatory word for ‘black person’ that was used during apartheid.]
On a gentler note, I asked Masekela about one of the problems facing South African music – the fact that so many young black South African kids don’t want to be seen listening to what is viewed as their parents’ music. Which means that people like Masekela, and also Busi Mhlongo and Madala Kunene, so alone on their own cutting edges, aren’t being listened to by the very people who most deserve their inheritance.
Hugh Masekela: Hello!
Peter Machen: Hello! Hugh Masekela?
HM: How’re you?
PM: I’m fine. It’s Peter Machen here. I’m not interrupting your lunch or anything.
Hugh Masekela: Uh, no. I just finished. I just swallowed my last morsel!
PM: Okay! I’m sorry. I’m phoning you on a public holiday.
HM: Every day is a public holiday for the unemployed! (laughs)
PM: (laughs) Okay, can I fire ahead with my questions?
HM: Yeah.
PM: Okay, I’ve got quite a few! My first question is you have been enormously successful all over the world, both critically and, you know, you’ve sold lots of records. And I saw, last week at the film festival, the movie Amandla.
HM: Okay!
PM: And it was great to see your awesome Africa performance there. It was lovely. But what I wanna know is, there are also people like Busi and Madala who, you know, have not really achieved any kind of real commercial success. And I want to know how you feel about those people, you know, kind of your musical sisters and brothers, in a way?
HM: Well, I can’t comment about Madala. But Busi is somebody that’s very dear to my heart. We just formed a record company with a few associates. And my new album, Time, is on our record company, Chisa – we’re still distributed by Sony, you know – we have four products. And Tsepo’s album actually came out yesterday – Tsepo Tshola. That’s also on our Chisa label. The next artist that we’re gonna be doing is Busi.
PM: Yay!
HM: And we unlike, you know, other record companies, we do a collaborative thing. Blondie Makhene and Khaya Mahlangu and a few other musicians, and we all work together. Because what we went to like, um, really unlock is the excellence of our individual artists, the ones that we sign. I think Busi is an outstanding artist. I think that her first album that came out, you know, was almost, uh, well produced, but it just wasn’t marketed as well as it could have been, you know. And, I don’t have any track of the second album, but that was also with the same company that’s since gone into liquidation.
But we were planning to make a production of the album that will hopefully seem like her debut album. Also, like, as much of her excellence as possible. It will be the first in a series. And we want to market her very aggressively, internationally, and we have those connections. And, um, we’ll see. But I have great faith that Busi is going to be a very important international artist.
PM: That’s very exciting news. I’m really happy. Because, yeah, she’s tried so hard.
HM: Yeah, she’s a wonderful person. A wonderful person. And, you know, she just went public – she just came out of recovery. And I think that will bode very well for her. Because she’s got her, you know, her soul back. And I think she’s gonna come out with a marvelous performance on her next album.
PM: That’s fantastic – a friend of mine actually saw her at the Rainbow on Sunday and said she’s looking much happier.
HM: Oh, yeah, she's just in great shape.
PM: That’s excellent! Well, one of the other things that that I kind of think has stopped the success of some of the older artists like Busi, as opposed to kind of younger Kwaito stars, is that, whenever I speak to kind younger black African kids in Durban, you know, people my age or younger, kind of in their twenties, lots of them don’t want to listen to music that they consider as their parents’ music.
Hugh Masekela: There is something skewed about that. I think that it’s marketing’s fault. Because I studied music as a kid – and I’ve been a musician since I was five – I still view music as a child. And I think that thing has to do with South Africa and the international markets trying to get niche markets, and marketing situations for the youth where they have to wear certain clothes and listen to certain music, do certain drugs and have a certain language.
Which I think is a bunch of poppycock. I think that music is either enjoyable to a person or not. People shouldn’t be prevented from listening to all kinds of music. I think it’s snobbery and a kind of cultural racism to say ‘I don’t want to listen to this because it’s for kids’. I participate in the arts with all kinds of people. I have the most eclectic collection of music, which is international - because music is sound. And I don’t hear any children who are not teenagers yet say ‘I want to listen to music for children’.
I have a very big youth-and-child, right-down-to infant following. Because they like what I’m doing. Because I draw most of my material from the origins and traditions of this country. And it just sits naturally with everybody because they can identify with it. And I think that I transcend all that bullshit marketing.
I think people are misled, kids are misled. One of the worst things that is happening is that kids are the only people now targeted for listening to and buying music. They use their parent’s money and their parents are being shunted aside. But their parents have money to spend, so from the industry’s point of view, I think it’s a stupid, greedy move. I think that niche marketing brings out prejudices in people that wouldn’t otherwise happen. Originally people used to listen to everything together. Music is a family thing - it should be enjoyed together as a family. My kids listen to everything. And the stuff that they play for me that I don’t like, I just laugh and say ‘I can’t get with that’. But I don’t say ‘Hey! That’s music for kids’.
Peter Machen: So this niche marketing is really another kind of colonialism?
HM: It’s capitalism. It’s like fashion. One of the reasons why this country has such low cultural self-esteem is because we’ve only been sold foreign values and we are plagued about who we are. What we should really do is appreciate everything, including our own shit. And there’s a major, major market for who we are, but we’re not using it. So as a result, when people come to this country, they bypass the people and go straight to the animals. The problem is that we are imitations of other people.
PM: I think that’s what I meant by colonialism.
HM: Yeah. It’s also economic and financial brainwashing. That’s what it is really. But we can knock these doors down only if we look inward. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look outwards – but the reason why we’re so consumed so much by foreign culture is because we don’t have our own national mirror to compare it to.
PM: When you were in exile, in America and around Africa, did you ever worry that you might lose your roots, your sense of being South African.
HM: I couldn’t. Because I was steeped in it, I was brought up as a South African and I was, like, cooked in South African culture. And not only at home - I grew up in township jazz bands - I ran with township gangsters and township babes. And I also went to the country, and learned how to milk, and how to have cows, and how to praise my totem.
Possibly because he has been around for so long, and been so commercially successful, there are many who would reduce the late Hugh Masekela to the status of a cultural cliche, someone who surrendered to their own Disneyfication. But if you were ever sufficiently blessed to witness a performance from the older Masekela, the untruth of this suggestion is self-evident. Masekela on stage was a man on fire, bringing to the air the true howl that US poet Alan Ginsberg used to describe the core of pain and joy as it is broadcast through the medium of jazz.
Of course, Masekela’s oeuvre extends well beyond jazz, but it has at its heart the effortless, discordant notes of truth that characterise the work of the finest jazz musicians. And his rough, sweet compassionate voice is so much bigger than a single human being. Like his compatriot and friend Miriam Makeba, Masekela lived in the slipstream of history’s river.
But while he is an icon of the 20th Century, that doesn’t stop him blowing his mouth off about anything and everything. When I ask him later, if he would ever enter politics as a politician, he says that he’d be taken out almost instantly. People would not be too fond of his unpalatable truth if spoken from Parliament.
On his album, Time, for example, Masekela chastises those who have been privileged by the existence of apartheid for their uncharitable and ungenerous response to what has happened here since. Towards the end of our interview Masekela is talking about the white businesses who have benefited so much, first from apartheid, and then from liberation. “They didn’t even come and say ‘dankie kaffirs’.” ['Kaffir' is an extremely derogatory word for ‘black person’ that was used during apartheid.]
On a gentler note, I asked Masekela about one of the problems facing South African music – the fact that so many young black South African kids don’t want to be seen listening to what is viewed as their parents’ music. Which means that people like Masekela, and also Busi Mhlongo and Madala Kunene, so alone on their own cutting edges, aren’t being listened to by the very people who most deserve their inheritance.
Hugh Masekela: Hello!
Peter Machen: Hello! Hugh Masekela?
HM: How’re you?
PM: I’m fine. It’s Peter Machen here. I’m not interrupting your lunch or anything.
Hugh Masekela: Uh, no. I just finished. I just swallowed my last morsel!
PM: Okay! I’m sorry. I’m phoning you on a public holiday.
HM: Every day is a public holiday for the unemployed! (laughs)
PM: (laughs) Okay, can I fire ahead with my questions?
HM: Yeah.
PM: Okay, I’ve got quite a few! My first question is you have been enormously successful all over the world, both critically and, you know, you’ve sold lots of records. And I saw, last week at the film festival, the movie Amandla.
HM: Okay!
PM: And it was great to see your awesome Africa performance there. It was lovely. But what I wanna know is, there are also people like Busi and Madala who, you know, have not really achieved any kind of real commercial success. And I want to know how you feel about those people, you know, kind of your musical sisters and brothers, in a way?
HM: Well, I can’t comment about Madala. But Busi is somebody that’s very dear to my heart. We just formed a record company with a few associates. And my new album, Time, is on our record company, Chisa – we’re still distributed by Sony, you know – we have four products. And Tsepo’s album actually came out yesterday – Tsepo Tshola. That’s also on our Chisa label. The next artist that we’re gonna be doing is Busi.
PM: Yay!
HM: And we unlike, you know, other record companies, we do a collaborative thing. Blondie Makhene and Khaya Mahlangu and a few other musicians, and we all work together. Because what we went to like, um, really unlock is the excellence of our individual artists, the ones that we sign. I think Busi is an outstanding artist. I think that her first album that came out, you know, was almost, uh, well produced, but it just wasn’t marketed as well as it could have been, you know. And, I don’t have any track of the second album, but that was also with the same company that’s since gone into liquidation.
But we were planning to make a production of the album that will hopefully seem like her debut album. Also, like, as much of her excellence as possible. It will be the first in a series. And we want to market her very aggressively, internationally, and we have those connections. And, um, we’ll see. But I have great faith that Busi is going to be a very important international artist.
PM: That’s very exciting news. I’m really happy. Because, yeah, she’s tried so hard.
HM: Yeah, she’s a wonderful person. A wonderful person. And, you know, she just went public – she just came out of recovery. And I think that will bode very well for her. Because she’s got her, you know, her soul back. And I think she’s gonna come out with a marvelous performance on her next album.
PM: That’s fantastic – a friend of mine actually saw her at the Rainbow on Sunday and said she’s looking much happier.
HM: Oh, yeah, she's just in great shape.
PM: That’s excellent! Well, one of the other things that that I kind of think has stopped the success of some of the older artists like Busi, as opposed to kind of younger Kwaito stars, is that, whenever I speak to kind younger black African kids in Durban, you know, people my age or younger, kind of in their twenties, lots of them don’t want to listen to music that they consider as their parents’ music.
Hugh Masekela: There is something skewed about that. I think that it’s marketing’s fault. Because I studied music as a kid – and I’ve been a musician since I was five – I still view music as a child. And I think that thing has to do with South Africa and the international markets trying to get niche markets, and marketing situations for the youth where they have to wear certain clothes and listen to certain music, do certain drugs and have a certain language.
Which I think is a bunch of poppycock. I think that music is either enjoyable to a person or not. People shouldn’t be prevented from listening to all kinds of music. I think it’s snobbery and a kind of cultural racism to say ‘I don’t want to listen to this because it’s for kids’. I participate in the arts with all kinds of people. I have the most eclectic collection of music, which is international - because music is sound. And I don’t hear any children who are not teenagers yet say ‘I want to listen to music for children’.
I have a very big youth-and-child, right-down-to infant following. Because they like what I’m doing. Because I draw most of my material from the origins and traditions of this country. And it just sits naturally with everybody because they can identify with it. And I think that I transcend all that bullshit marketing.
I think people are misled, kids are misled. One of the worst things that is happening is that kids are the only people now targeted for listening to and buying music. They use their parent’s money and their parents are being shunted aside. But their parents have money to spend, so from the industry’s point of view, I think it’s a stupid, greedy move. I think that niche marketing brings out prejudices in people that wouldn’t otherwise happen. Originally people used to listen to everything together. Music is a family thing - it should be enjoyed together as a family. My kids listen to everything. And the stuff that they play for me that I don’t like, I just laugh and say ‘I can’t get with that’. But I don’t say ‘Hey! That’s music for kids’.
Peter Machen: So this niche marketing is really another kind of colonialism?
HM: It’s capitalism. It’s like fashion. One of the reasons why this country has such low cultural self-esteem is because we’ve only been sold foreign values and we are plagued about who we are. What we should really do is appreciate everything, including our own shit. And there’s a major, major market for who we are, but we’re not using it. So as a result, when people come to this country, they bypass the people and go straight to the animals. The problem is that we are imitations of other people.
PM: I think that’s what I meant by colonialism.
HM: Yeah. It’s also economic and financial brainwashing. That’s what it is really. But we can knock these doors down only if we look inward. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look outwards – but the reason why we’re so consumed so much by foreign culture is because we don’t have our own national mirror to compare it to.
PM: When you were in exile, in America and around Africa, did you ever worry that you might lose your roots, your sense of being South African.
HM: I couldn’t. Because I was steeped in it, I was brought up as a South African and I was, like, cooked in South African culture. And not only at home - I grew up in township jazz bands - I ran with township gangsters and township babes. And I also went to the country, and learned how to milk, and how to have cows, and how to praise my totem.
PM: What year did you leave South Africa?
HM: 1960. I was 20 years old.
PM: Did you think you would have to wait so long to return?
HM: When I graduated from Manhattan School of Music, I was ready to come back. But I also had a loud mouth, as you can tell. And Harry Belafonte said to me, ‘You know, Mandela and all those people are already in jail. And with a mouth like yours - nobody even knows you - they’re going to kill your ass. So, what you’d better try and do is make a name for yourself, and when you talk about your country, people will listen. And maybe in the long run, you might, as an old man, go back home’.
Of course, I came back when I was 51. But we didn’t think we’d ever come back because of the draconian intransigence of the last government. We didn’t think they’d ever dream of giving up. But what was ironic or paradoxical was that when they did give up, it was because of the pressure of the international arts community that had been galvanised originally by people like Miriam Makeba. And the arts community pressured its countries all over the world, saying ‘we can’t be friendly with those people’.
And then there’s Paul Simon, who was mostly criticised in this country for playing with South African musicians and didn’t come and perform here. But we played to 10-million people with him all over the world. And those 10-million people had never heard about South Africa before that. And the show that we did - Graceland - was a very, very radically militant show.
To a great extent the arts has a lot to do with showing to the world what was happening in South Africa. And helped the world to turn around and see South Africa. And the Afrikaner hierarchy had to say ‘listen, we want to make a deal’ - a deal that was not that advantageous to the oppressed, but shit, things are not as bad as they were.
But of course, there’s never been a time in the history of humanity when a privileged community said ‘listen, sorry that we made so much money off your backs - here’s 500 trillion to say we’re sorry.’ And I’m not expecting that to happen. But at least we’ve got somewhere to start from.
And I think that – maybe not in my generation – but I think that your generation will probably see the beginnings of the end of the old bullshit. But you know, people never change completely.
PM: No, they don’t, hey. But I think, you know, that the kids who are ten years old now, when they're like 20 and when they're nightclubbing together and dancing together, I think it's gonna be fantastic.
HM: Oh, yeah, yeah. But, you know, you have to remember that also, like, 50% of this country's people are poor.
PM: Yeah, I know…
HM: And they're not enjoying things. And this joy is not trickling down to them, because they are suffering still, on an hourly basis. And unless something is done about that, we are breeding a second and a real revolution in this country.
PM: Yeah. Plus lots and lots of orphans without parents.
HM: And you never know where a revolutionary leadership comes out. It could come from anywhere. But if there's dissatisfaction, definitely it is a fertiliser – dissatisfaction – and the uprising…
PM: On the album Time – and this is your beautiful big mouth talking again – you speak of how there is no gratitude, charity, or goodwill coming from those who gained privilege through apartheid.
HM: Yeah.
PM: You know, which, as far as I'm concerned s more or less completely true.
HM: Yeah.
PM: Did you ever consider, like, as well as being a musician, did you ever consider when you came back of actually, like entering politics, like properly?
HM: No, because when you're into politics, you have to be part of a member of a group that follows the rules of the party. I've never been a party member. And even if I ran as an independent, I would have to, like, still be part of an independent group. They will have their rules. And as soon as you have rules, you are limited. So I’m just better off doing what I'm doing. My next album is gonna be very radical. But if musicians could change the world, then Bob Dylan would have changed America long ago.
PM: But maybe he did a little bit, hey…?
HM: Oh, yeah. No, he did. I mean, those people did a lot, you know…and I'd like to get that viral. The thing that is necessary on our continent is that we can't be complacent – because we're free and we voted. We have to express dissatisfaction where it is necessary. And when things are wrong, we have to get them – especially the public who don't know otherwise should know – especially the disadvantaged. And I think it's our duty, all of us, the press, whoever, you know. If you are in a position to do it, you have to say “there is something wrong here”. It doesn’t mean that you want to overthrow the government. But what we voted for is to be able to say “things are wrong”.
PM: Yeah. Completely.
HM: And, you know, for our government to back us. (laughs). When Bob Dylan and Harry Belafonte and Joan Baez and them sang about the things that were wrong in their country, there were politicians who were on their side. And some of those people were people like Jack Kennedy.
PM: How do you then, how do you relate to, like, our government now, in 2002, and maybe more specifically to the ANC, if it's not too loaded a question?
HM: The government – you know, we came into government in a very difficult way because we [the black and formerly oppressed people of South Africa] had to make a deal that was brokered by Western interests – to start with – you know, and then we had to protect our oppressors. In other words, if anything has happened in this country it’s that we freed our oppressors, you know. And then today, you cannot find anybody who supported apartheid, the same way you couldn't find a Nazi in Dresden in 1946 after the Allied Forces came in. And then, in the government of unity and reconciliation [which governed South Africa from 1994-1999], there were a lot of compromises that had to be made, you know.
PM: Yeah.
HM: And when people do compromise, they also get new opportunities, especially the ones who become part of the new establishment. And, they have to deal with righting wrongs that have been like established over centuries.
PM: Yeah.
HM: And it doesn't take overnight to fix those things. And also, like, it’s in the history of revolutions: the gentry and the establishment always tries to consume the revolutionaries, and they become part of the establishment. And they take you out of your communities, and then something is lost there.
You know, I cannot judge this government because it doesn't have a long record yet. And the thing that is difficult for them is that the people who were privileged in the past want us to gloss over what happened and the damage that was done. They're like, “Oh, let’s forget about the past already. Look forward.” There is no way you can do that. Otherwise, there wouldn't be a Jewish state today.
PM: (laughs)
HM: You know what I mean? And the Jews remind us everyday of what happened in the Holocaust. And I think it is necessary that, not only should we be reminded here of what happened in apartheid, but in Africa, we should remind the world of what happened to it. And that to me, that's more important, you know. And a government is in transit for me, always. Governments are in transit, but the people are there forever, and their tradition and culture is there forever. And I think that is the thing that is necessary to revive in this country. And if this government doesn't do a lot to revive those things that apartheid destroyed in who we are as an oppressed people, then they will have failed us.
PM: Yeah.
HM: Our government will come up. They will do it eventually. It might not even be in my lifetime. Because, you know, the government is just as victim – the present government is just as victim – to the dictates of the international powers as we are to the dictates of the present broadcasting system. And the present system comes from, like the days of our oppression, when anything African was barbaric and savage. So it's not gonna be changed overnight, you know?
PM: In 1994 [which saw the birth of the new democratic society], I really thought that we would have a new broadcasting system, a new police force, a new post office, all that stuff. I was very naive.
HM: That’s the dream. But you can't do it if…you don’t have reconciliation…[unclear]...Yeah. The only thing that disturbs me is that to a great extent, reconciliation in this country is one sided – it's only coming from the oppressed people. And they all, like I say, you know, goodwill and charity is not coming from like the formerly privileged classes. If anything, they are very much entrenched, in every kind of way, of protecting what they got from the past.
PM: Yeah. I think you're very right. Yeah.
HM: And, not only that, we are already being blamed for reverse apartheid. But the majority of the white population in this country – and the other people who were privileged – have forgotten that they couldn't, like, go anywhere without being able to say that they're South African – pariah. They couldn't play sports with anybody. You know, they couldn't criticise even the government that had handed them the privileges. Today, they can criticise this government to hell and back, and nothing is gonna happen to them. And most of all, they couldn’t do business anywhere. But today, if you go all over Africa, where they were not allowed before, all the new South African businesses are white businesses. And you would think people would at least say, “Dankie Kaffir”. ['K*ff*ir' is an extremely derogatory word for ‘black person’ that was used during apartheid.]
PM: (laughs and applauds). Do you ever, like, just feel resentful on that basis of the whole fucking white race?
HM: No, I’ve never…I’ve never…I can't be. I’m too big for that, you know? And I’ve lived too cosmopolitan a life. I realise the disease and the gangrene that is set in here [in South Africa] but it is healable. It won’t be healed right away. You know, a virus takes a long time to conquer, but I don't think it's a cancer. And I don't think it’s an HIV kind of disease here
PM: Okay.
HM: But it is gonna take a long time, because people are steeped in their ways. And you’ve got two generations that were brought up to hate black people. And they’re not gonna change overnight, they're not gonna lose their resentment. I was looking at some of the people in the amnesty hearings, you know, the Truth and Reconciliation hearings.
And I saw one film [the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was broadcast on television and recorded] and one guy said, “I'm sorry, Kaffir - forgive me” [unclear]. Because the deal was, if you could say that, then you'll be forgiven and you'll get amnesty. But in his heart, he didn't fucking mean it. If anything, he felt humiliated that he had to ask kaffirs, you know, to forgive him. To me it’s a joke! It has always been a joke.
PM: It’s absurd.
HM: You know, it always will be a joke. I always knew that Verwoed [Hendrick Verwoerd, commonly regarded as the architect of Apartheid] would fall, that the Nationalist government would fall – I didn't know when. But the paradox today is that they're in partnership with the ANC. I mean, if you had told me that even five years ago, I would have laughed at you. So, you know, change happens in ways that we cannot predict. But we should just, like, keep on working at it.
I think that when you hate, you just, like, perpetrate what you're fighting against. But what you have to do is like, make people aware that, you know, this shit is out there in the air and people should try and get rid of it. Because it's a virus. It's a very bad disease. it's a healing process that takes a very long time.
PM: Yeah.
HM: But the thing is that I don't think anybody is more relieved deep down in their hearts than the oppressed. They can sleep at night. They can sleep at night, knowing that we are guaranteeing their freedom. Yeah, you know, that is the joke in the whole thing – for me that's a major triumph. And when anybody who is white just tries to come on at me, you know, from their own start, to say, “Don't be cheeky or look here kaffir”, you know, all I say is, “Man, I understand how you feel. Yeah, and I know how painful it must be. But the one thing that I can assure you is that it will never be the same again. And you’d better try, when you're alone at home, think about what I said and try and live with it because it's going to be here, the way it is now, forever”. We’ll never allow it to go back.
PM: It can't. I just never could now.
HM: No.
PM: Hugh, I've got some fantastic words from you. It was a very nice conversation.
HM: OK, I'm glad we talked about music!
PM: Yeah! (laughs) I never ask people about what they do.
HM: Nobody ever talks to me about music, you know. Like the music speaks for itself.
PM: Yeah, I think so.
HM: The one thing I can – you know, to answer your previous question – If I went into office, I would be assassinated in about a week – just because of the amount of people that would be fired in the first week that I take over, the first year that I take over – I wouldn't stand a chance.
PM: Do you think the truth [of South Africa] is palatable?
HM: No, it's not. It's very painful.
PM: Yeah.
HM: The truth is even…I mean, it’s even painful now to the people…I mean, the people who are in power now are just as thin-skinned as the past government, you know. And people can’t take constructive criticism, especially when they are in positions to change situations. But instead, you know, they defend themselves on either a party level or on a “Why don't you do something about it?” Shit,you know, we voted for you. We put you in power so we can cry to you. So don't be on the defensive. The least you can say is “Let me see what can be done about this.” Then people won't complain as much. They'll just depend on you. (laughs)
PM: That’s what you’re there for.
HM: Yeah, because we’re paying you for that. Now, don't tell me about how much you sacrificed – because we all did.
PM: Completely! Okay, thank you so much.
HM: It’s okay, man. I'll send you a bill!.
PM: Okay, cool – keep it cheap! I will come and find you on Saturday and say hello – so you know what my face looks like. But thank you very much, Hugh. Enjoy the rest of your public holiday!
HM: Okay, man.
PM: Okay.
HM: Take care.
PM: Cheers. You too. Bye.
The rich text element allows you to create and format headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, images, and video all in one place instead of having to add and format them individually. Just double-click and easily create content.
A rich text element can be used with static or dynamic content. For static content, just drop it into any page and begin editing. For dynamic content, add a rich text field to any collection and then connect a rich text element to that field in the settings panel. Voila!
Headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, figures, images, and figure captions can all be styled after a class is added to the rich text element using the "When inside of" nested selector system.
The rich text element allows you to create and format headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, images, and video all in one place instead of having to add and format them individually. Just double-click and easily create content.
A rich text element can be used with static or dynamic content. For static content, just drop it into any page and begin editing. For dynamic content, add a rich text field to any collection and then connect a rich text element to that field in the settings panel. Voila!
Headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, figures, images, and figure captions can all be styled after a class is added to the rich text element using the "When inside of" nested selector system.
You can contact Peter on hello@talktopeter.com or get in touch on any of the platforms below. If you are having technical difficulties with the site, please send an email to tech@talktopeter.com
A big thank you to Kirsten Machen and Linda Leow for both suggesting, within days of each other, that I start interviewing people again, and also for the numerous feedback requests. Thanks also to Debbie Sykes for some on-point UX suggestions and to Lorna McDowell for the frequent iPhone testing, Mitzi Pedersen for her eagle eyes, and Travis Lyle for always being there with sensible advice. Thanks to Sharlene Versfeld and Nashen Moodley for helping me to get access to so many amazing people over the years, and to Mirah Von Wicht for all the hugs and support. Special thanks to all my past editors, especially Cyril Madlada, for his immediate faith in me, Debbie Reynolds, for some wonderful working years at the Independent on Saturday and for giving me free reign to produce such eclectic content, to Yves Vanderhaeghen at the Weekend Witness for doing likewise, and to David Daley for our sadly brief working relationship at Salon. And, of course, a massive thank you to everyone who has spoken to me over the years. And finally, warm and appreciative thanks to YOU for reading, watching, and listening, and to my mother Astrid Machen for her boundless and endless love and encouragement.
*It would be remiss of me not to thank the hundreds of generous souls who's contribution to Stackoverflow and other forums provided the knowledge I needed to build this site. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. The impulse to share knowledge and solutions is the best thing about the internet.
A big thank you to Kirsten Machen and Linda Leow for both suggesting, within days of each other, that I start interviewing people again, and also for the numerous feedback requests. Thanks also to Debbie Sykes for some on-point UX suggestions and to Lorna McDowell for the frequent iPhone testing. Thanks to Sharlene Versfeld and Nashen Moodley for helping me to get access to so many amazing people over the years, and to Mirah Von Wicht for all the hugs and support. Special thanks to all my past editors, especially Cyril Madlada, for his immediate faith in me, Debbie Reynolds, for some wonderful working years at the Independent on Saturday and for giving me free reign to produce such eclectic content, and to Yves Vanderhaeghen at the Weekend Witness for doing likewise. And, of course, a massive thank you to everyone who has spoken to me over the years. And finally, warm and appreciative thanks to YOU for reading, watching, and listening, and to my mother Astrid Machen for her boundless and endless love and encouragement.
A big thank you to Kirsten Machen and Linda Leow for both suggesting, within days of each other, that I start interviewing people again, and also for the numerous feedback requests. Thanks also to Debbie Sykes for some on-point UX suggestions and to Lorna McDowell for the frequent iPhone testing. Thanks to Sharlene Versfeld and Nashen Moodley for helping me to get access to so many amazing people over the years, and to Mirah Von Wicht for all the hugs and support. Special thanks to all my past editors, especially Cyril Madlada, for his immediate faith in me, Debbie Reynolds, for some wonderful working years at the Independent on Saturday and for giving me free reign to produce such eclectic content, and to Yves Vanderhaeghen at the Weekend Witness for doing likewise. And, of course, a massive thank you to everyone who has spoken to me over the years. And finally, warm and appreciative thanks to YOU for reading, watching, and listening, and to my mother Astrid Machen for her boundless and endless love and encouragement.
A big thank you to Kirsten Machen and Linda Leow for both suggesting, within days of each other, that I start interviewing people again, and also for the numerous feedback requests. Thanks also to Debbie Sykes for some on-point UX suggestions and to Lorna McDowell for the frequent iPhone testing. Thanks to Sharlene Versfeld and Nashen Moodley for helping me to get access to so many amazing people over the years, and to Mirah Von Wicht for all the hugs and support. Special thanks to all my past editors, especially Cyril Madlada, for his immediate faith in me, Debbie Reynolds, for some wonderful working years at the Independent on Saturday and for giving me free reign to produce such eclectic content, and to Yves Vanderhaeghen at the Weekend Witness for doing likewise. And, of course, a massive thank you to everyone who has spoken to me over the years. And finally, warm and appreciative thanks to YOU for reading, watching, and listening, and to my mother Astrid Machen for her boundless and endless love and encouragement.
