By now the entire world is familiar with the Vuvuzela, that unlovely air horn that has become an icon of South African soccer.

But what of the Zazu and the Kuduzela? You won’t be seeing these in the World Cup stadia: security guards are confiscating any that fans may take along. For both have been banned – and thereby hangs a tale.

Our public protector, the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) makes its way onto these pages rather often.

The latest story comes from a retired English teacher and noseweek reader who – like many others, one suspects – finds the Silversands “I win my fights ...” ad crap, if not a little disturbing (the fact that online gambling as offered by Silversands is still illegal probably doesn’t help either).

The Nelson Mandela Bay Metropolitan Municipality is paying huge monthly rentals for office space it isn’t using, but nobody is saying why – and if you’re not a friend of the friends of the man known within the ANC as Comrade Giraffe, you’re not likely to find out.

Better known as Nceba Faku, Comrade Giraffe spent 13 years on Robben Island, and since 1995 has been at the helm of the ANC in the Port Elizabeth region making him an extremely influential person.

In the secret files of rugby legend Wilf Rosenberg, whose connections with the Israeli Mafia were revealed in last month's noseweek, is a handwritten list of 23 people whom Rosenberg describes as members of The Syndicate.

They include police officers (“Sgt Wie and Inspector Havenga”), bank officials (“Paul, FNB town, credit manager; Andrew, FNB Sandton; Christa, Nedbank Auckland Park; Mr Badenhorst, Trust Bank; two individuals from Momentum”); an attorney; and mysterious characters with names like “Max the Swiss”.

The first two names, John Ferreira and Walter Pugh, still cause a shudder to run down the spine of Rosenberg’s ex-wife Shelly.

Wade Gomes and Louise Baker – now there’s a pair of smart operators. As Gillian Klette discovered to her cost when she made the mistake of going into business with them.

It's been a long road for the pair of con artists who have been taking a string of victims for a ride.

Raymond van Staden died heroically, after plunging into treacherous currents off Amanzimtoti beach to go the aid of a man and a boy struggling in the raging surf.

Within hours of his death there was an extraordinary rush by a host of shady characters to loot his home and offices.

Once again the spotlight is cast on how notorious apartheid-era police operatives have come to dominate the country’s private investigations business.

And how many “blue chip” companies – and leading figures in the ANC – happily continue to make use of these old security branch men’s services to advance their own often sinister interests.

Some clever bloke invents something absolutely bloody marvellous and approaches a large corporate; their geeks take a look – and everyone lives happily ever after.

Everyone but the inventor, that is. A common story.

Yes, it has become all too common for SA companies to market, as their own, products presented to them by inventors of limited means. Take for instance the MTN Banking product...