Harawira Hard to Wear

Let me tell you about this sinking feeling I am experiencing. Likely it is similar to yours, and for the same reason: Hone Harawira. I have the sinking feeling that he is going to win tomorrow. Too many with too little common sense consider him akin to the Messiah—the great brown hope of Maoridom. Tai Tokerau is his fiefdom. I don’t think in fact he offers anything to Maoridom and his pattern in Parliament has been a consistent one of self-interest. In any other field but politics he would defy belief, as a man with no belief except self. But let’s not be unkind, let’s just except that he is a cretin. Albeit a cunning one. So, why is Fryday giving him any space? Only because I could not let a remark by Harawira on this morning’s Radio Live programmes go unremarked. Harawira was on the programme with the ever-reasonable Labour candidate Kelvin Davis. During a tense exchange between the two, moderated by Marcus Lush, it was Harawira who invited Davis to “shut your fat mouth.” A small matter perhaps. But then again if that childish rejoinder is all Harawira can come up with he deserves neither his position in Parliament nor the support he will get tomorrow. I am tempted to say those who vote for him will get what they deserve. And I guess they will. But frankly nobody deserves Harawira—not Tai Tokerau, not Maoridom, not this country.

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The Hamilton Public Library Book of Lists

With the onset of winter (though it doesn’t feel like it) and the prospect of winter reading, it is time to announce this year’s Annual Hamilton Public Library Book of Lists:

§ Most Borrowed Book: Knot in my Lifetime—Best Bondage Knots by Master Spartacus.

§ Most Borrowed Autobiography: Buggered if I do, Buggered if I don’t—A Waikato Life by A Cow.

§ Most Stolen Book: How to Live Life on the Cheap in Hamilton.

§ Thinnest Book: The Wit and Wisdom of Hamilton Mayors.

§ Thickest Book: God Help Me—Religious Writings of Hamilton Mayors.

§ Best Council Publication: Doing it by The Book—The Bible and its Role in the District Plan.

§ Best Academic DVD: Country Calendar—The Classic Years.

§ Most Borrowed History DVD: The Best of Fred Dagg.

§ Most Borrowed Movie: Spartacus.

§ Best Academic Publication: Straight Furrow.

§ Most Borrowed Fiction: Hamilton, A Great Place to Live by Jacinta Shakk.

§ Most Borrowed Non-Fiction: Buggered if I do, Buggered if I don’t.

§ Least Borrowed (Equal First): A Life on the Edge—Living in the Shadow of Auckland and The Fryday Bound Edition.

§ Most Borrowed by Females: How to Become a Hairdresser.

§ Most Borrowed by Males: Buggered if I do, Buggered if I don’t.

§ Most Borrowed Music Book: Your Banjo—How to Play It, How to Duel With It.

§ Most Borrowed DIY: Clan-Derstine—How to build a Home Clan Lab.

§ Most Borrowed Gardening Book: Going to Pot by Anonymous.

§ Most Borrowed Self-Improvement Book: Auckland Street Maps.

§ Most Borrowed CD: Gotta Get Out of This Place—The Animals.

§ Most Borrowed Fashion Book: Fluff and Fiddle—Cross-Dressing on a Budget.

§ Most Borrowed Cookbook: Hamilton KFC Locations.

§ Best Feel Good Book: Leaving Ngaruawahia by Wally Stott.

§ Best Sequel: If a Sheep’s Your Thing by the author of Buggered if I do, Buggered if I don’t.

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At least I now know why I am here

In my view one of the silliest sayings in modern business parlance is “bring (something) to the table” or its variant “put it on the table.” Nevertheless I can live with it more than I can live or abide the vastly more ubiquitous “going forward.” So I was only mildly aggrieved at what that great philosopher of the modern age, Robbie Williams, brought to the table—or more accurately—my newspaper this week. Now, you’ll remember Robbie. He hasn’t had a hit for a while, but he had a string of them a while back. He also had a well-publicised fling in the Metropolis while here, which was by all accounts more satisfying to the flingee than the flinger. But I digress. No, the latest revelation about Mr Williams is that he injects himself with testosterone twice a week. He believes—and I quote him here—that it improves his skin, hair and memory. At least he can now remember when he last had a hit. Fair enough Robbie, testosterone is a welcome change from what some singers inject themselves with. But what I then found a little off-putting is his revelation/epiphany of the true meaning of life. At least his life. But he also implies that it covers all humanity. It appears that I have for all of my 60 years laboured under the misconception that I was born here only to make up the numbers and to slag off at Hamilton. Not so. If Mr Williams is correct, and I use his words here as published by the Herald today: “We are built to F***” Wow, and here I was dwelling on the superficiality of life, when Mr Williams finds, identifies and expounds its true complexity. Thanks Robbie. I feel enriched. I am taking my wife to the Metropolis tonight to celebrate.

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