White sanity

I read, last night, a riproaring hilarious little ditty that I had received free from Lulu, as somebody's short literary offering. It was called "White Madness", which I presume to have been a variation on "White Mischief". Anyway, it was a brief 28-page not-exactly-treatise on the days of sanity in Africa, marked by the efforts of a trigger-happy redneck of the Rhodesian forces in shooting a baboon and the necessity of retrieving its tail to prove that it was no longer suffering. We know "Scotty" is redneck because the author tells us so, in these exact terms:

Here he is perched as a product of Britain and tends to burn red rather than tan as we locals do. Scotty burns more noticeably around the neck and shoulder region as red now glows with perspiration.
The settlers to the Rhodesia’s are actually known as ‘Red Necks.’ It’s a name the Boers of South Africa gave British settlers for the very reason of burning bright red. I now turn a by now rather stiff body in direction of the baboons. As if getting in some aiming practice, Scotty lifts his rifle in direction of the gathered tribe.

There is a problem with the confusion of metaphors and literality, as "communist principles" hover here or there, as if they were jamming the airwaves so as to undermine Rhodesian "sanity".

Still, the text appears to leave us with the haunting question: What can anybody in their right minds hope to do about this spectre, hovering?