When towns go mild

Has anyone heard of Hamilton lately? The city is silent. Gone are the pronouncements, pontificating and artless hyperbolae that greeted the acquisition of the street race, and deluded Hamilton that it was better than Waimate North. Instead Hamilton seems to have reverted to its somnolent self (and rightful place) as New Zealand’s capital of conceit, covert decadence and overt hypocrisy. I for one am glad of that. The masking fog and the orgasmic screams of cows and sheep from within have always made Hamilton a place of mystery and intrigue for me, akin to its street system. I love mystery, and Hamilton abounds with them:

• The fore-mention street system
• Why anyone would choose to live there
• Why it has a museum when it is one.

These are the unknowns that tax the brain. But what do we know of Hamilton? Surprisingly and somewhat paradoxically we know a great deal, such as:

• Hamilton’s idea of great art is Happy Meal packaging
• The essential truth of Rocky Horror Picture Show is that it is a biography of the author’s town
• For a time the town’s favourite film was Gone With the Wind, which they thought alluded to the withdrawal of the fart tax.
• The current film is Dukes of Hazard—now that’s real life on film, Gawd Dang
• Babe has been banned for its portrayal of child sex
• The favourite books are the Tui’s Yeah Right series because of the basic tenets to live-by they provide
• Hamilton’s favourite sport after self-abuse is Find the Cricketer, a variation of the core game, in which batsmen try and work out where fielders are in the fog and what bowlers are doing with their balls
• The most cut out and stolen pictures from magazines in the Hamilton Library are from The Contented Cow, and National Geographic’s pre-1970 series on African women
• The most stolen book is How to Steal for a Living.
• The most borrowed book is a tie between Knots for the Bedroom and The Zen of Boy-Racing
• The most read is the Hamilton street map
• There is more to come.
  
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