It's not Cricket

 

I once heard an American question how a game of test cricket could last five days and not necessarily produce a winner.

Of course, the nuances of cricket are incomprehensible to someone not steeped in the game, but the question is rich coming from America, the country that inflicted on the world the most complex and unfathomable of all games—American Football.

The American has a point, however. There are many aspects of cricket lore that defy explanation and whose origins we lost to antiquity. Take player positions on the field, for example. What sense can we make of silly mid-on and silly point, slips, gully, backward short leg, square leg and, surely the loneliest position on the field, third man?

What appears to be even more incomprehensive to Americans is the phraseology used to describe the juxtaposition and status of the two teams playing the game. 
To simplify that aspect of the game, someone went onto the World of Cricket Forum and came up with:

 

The Rules of Cricket:
You have two sides, one out in the field and one in. 

Each man that's in the side that's in goes out, and when he's out he comes in and the next man goes in until he's out. 

When they are all out, the side that's out comes in and the side that’s been in goes out and tries to get those coming in, out. Sometimes you get men still in and not out.
When a man goes out to go in, the men who are out try to get him out, and when he is out he goes in and the next man in goes out and goes in. 

There are two men called umpires who stay all out all the time and they decide when the men who are in are out. 

When both sides have been in and all the men have been out, and both sides have been out twice after all the men have been in, including those who are not out, that is the end of the game! 

 

There is a juxtaposition here with our prime minister that is not immediately apparent. Let’s unlock that:

We have a prime minister who is in, but an increasing number wants out.

We have a prime minister who, when she got in, most people voted to keep out.

We have a prime minister who is in, but many consider out of her mind when it comes running the country.

We have a prime minister who was in Auckland this week, but not out and about.

We have a prime minister who is in with the media, but out of touch with everybody else.

 

What Ardern is doing to this country is not cricket, but it is just as confusing. Let’s call “over.”

Cushion...a blow

 

What is it about women and cushions?

Cushions are about as useful to humanity as eyebrows are to the body—something I learnt lately when I “lost” an eyebrow and gained the character of a more macho and sensible scar.

Yet women seem to throw cushions around with gay abandon. They litter couches, clutter chairs and are useless impediments in bed. And the cushions are even worse!

Cushions on the bed are particularly galling. What purpose are they serving? Most beds in my experience have pillows, sometimes quite a few of them. To bury them beneath cushions is surely a redundancy.
If you are a woman, you will undoubtedly counter that by saying cushions are decorative. The far more pragmatic male of the species will bring some common sense to the argument: yes, decorative, and dangerous.

What happens to all those cushions when you get into bed? You immediately discard them on to the floor where they lay in wait, an unseen hazard on your stumbling route to the toilet.
Cushions in the bedroom are insidious and gender specific. You don’t see them in a man’s bedroom. It is only when said male enters a partnership with a woman that those cushions magically appear. There should be a standard clause in pre-nuptial agreements banning cushions from bedrooms and, indeed, anywhere in the house.

Men have rights too.

The only practical use I can see for a cushion is to provide a level of comfort for the woman who kneels at the feet of her man, ready to fetch him a beer, while he watches Supercars. Even then, a pillow would suffice.

I have researched this issue. The question I raise—what use are cushions---is common on the internet. The only answer given is that they are decorative. There is a nod to posture. But again, that is gender specific. Blokes don’t care about posture. That’s something that went out the door with Polaroid photos and taking nude photos of your wife.

So, as much as I would like to fashion an argument for cushions, the only argument I can fashion is fashion.

And that is simply not good enough for me.

The only good news is that fashion, by its nature, goes out of fashion and becomes nothing more than a useless object.

It’s happened to the Prime Minister; I hope it happens to cushions.

Many Sheeps in the world

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Office of the Foreign Secretary

123 Bruce Springsteen Boulevard (third door on right). Telephone: 125.

 

 

 

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern

Prime Minister of New Zealand, where sheeps are

Parliament House

In New Zealand

 

Dear Prime Minister Jacinda

 

Our Presidente for life Yoseph Flagrantie send you fragrant greetings from the Peoples of Democratic Republic of Wogistan.

Our Presidente grate admirer of you. He likes how you rule nation of sheeps. We are a nation of sheeps. You are on the world stage for that. Our Presidente want to be on stage with you, but we are poor economy so yous and Presidente needs to share bedroom.  Bring gay boyfriend if you afford him to come. Presidente bring his sheeps so he comes.

Youse then compare notes on how to rule nations of sheeps. Presidente believes you has your sheeps under control and he would like to learn from you.

Wogistan also got troublesum peoples. Is answer to do what you do, treat them like sheeps? If so, maybe we kills two sheeps with one stone? That works for him—Wogistan got no bullets left.

Let’s get stoned together.

Please reply quickly. Country’s air traffic controler back from holiday next Monday. Will open airport then.

 

Sincerely

 

Yoseph xxx

Yoseph Wankerstan

Foreign Secretary The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Proprietor Spartacus Male Gym and Bathhouse.

 

The Buck Stops There

My friend Zane said it well, “[Health Minister David Clark] let the Team of 4,999,999 down.” Clearly Clark is not a team player; not only did he breach the rules of Level 4 no fewer than 3 times and was missing in action for much of lockdown, he now has the temerity to blame one of his lieutenants for the parlous state of our porous border—a lieutenant, incidentally,  who never went MIA when needed and as far as I know never breeched one of the lockdown conditions.

Clark said that Dr Bloomfield had accepted responsibility for the border situation and then implied that’s where the matter ends. It does not. It defies belief that Clark believes he has no responsibility in this matter. He may have no direct culpability (I’ll come back to that later) but is morally obligated to support his department and if that means uttering that famous saying “the buck stops here’ instead of his the buck stops there, so be it.

Clark’s actions and inactions make him in my view morally bankrupt and unacceptable as a minister or even as a member of parliament.

Now let’s turn to that other matter. Clark compounds his cowardly swipe at Dr Bloomfield and his own failure to shoulder any of the blame by then accusing our frontline people of not properly executing what he said were clear instructions from the Government.

Really, Clark?

Which instructions, Clark, about what you could or couldn’t do under Level Four were not clear to you when you went on your bike-riding jaunts? It seems to have been clear to the other 4,999,999 of us. Or was it simply that you did not properly execute them.

I don’t want to see anybody out of a job—there are enough of them already. But this minister has to step down. It’s overdue, we don’t need him, and we could do without his arrogance at this time—or at any time.

Oh, and one other message—for the Prime Minister—the buck doesn’t stop there (with Clark) either.

Letters From Wogistan: Dear Jacinda

The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Office of the Foreign Secretary

123 Bruce Springsteen Boulevard (third door on right). Telephone: 125.

Prime Minister Jacinda Adern

Prime Minister of New Zealand, where sheeps are

Parliament House

New Zealand

Dear Prime Minister Jacinda

Our Presidente for life Yoseph Flagrantie send you fragrant greetings from the Peoples of Democratic Republic of Wogistan.

Our Presidente make apologys. He wanted to write before but we need buy new tipe-writer ribbon. We have one now.

Presidente says he sees you every time on general store television, but worrys that something is wrong. You go everywhere but not seen in own country where the sheeps are. Are you not wanted in your country?

You are wanted in Wogistan. Presidente likes your looks. Wants to offer you job as secretary now that we have tipe-writer. Job not hard. You tipe two letters a day. But you must know how to spel. Not have to sleep with Presidente. That is sheeps job.

You say yes and we send Presidential Skoda to picks you up. You have use of Skoda on Thurdays. I, Wednesdays. And Preseidente and sheeps all other days.

Sincerely

Yoseph xxx

Yoseph Wankerstan

Foreign Secretary The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Proprietor Spartacus Male Gym and Bathhouse.

If walls could talk

In all my years assiduously watching The West Wing (and its repeats) I have singularly failed to see a single fly on the walls of the Oval Office.

Yes, I know that the Oval Office doesn’t have walls; being oval, it has one wall. But you get the point and if you don’t, allow me to remind you that life for a pedant can be harrowing and best left to masochists.

Of course, there is a lot of foliage on top of the Oval Office fireplace before which visiting leaders are usually photographed with the President. Perhaps a fly could hide there, though I hear that the Oval Office is continually swept for bugs, so perhaps not.

Anyway, if there is to be a fly on the wall of the Oval Office I would like to be that fly when President Donald J. Trump meets Prime Minister Jacinda K.L. Ardern. It will either be a highly stimulating meeting or the shortest on record.

Ms Ardern has said, “I'm looking forward to discussing a wide range of international and regional issues with President Trump, including our cooperation in the Pacific and the trade relationship between our countries.”

If anything is designed to send the President to sleep or to Twitter, that is it.

So, what else? I cannot think of anybody with less in common in terms of policy positions than these two.

In fact, they only have two options for discussing global issues: either argue about them or ignore them...and each other.

I mean, what they going to discuss? Climate Change? Gun control? Immigration? Trade sanctions against Iraq? Jacinda Ardern will afterwards say she raised all those issues with the President; he will smile benignly knowing that she did not. He will say, however, that he praised the Prime Minister on her handling of the “very very terrible” mosque shootings in her country and that he received an invitation by the Prime Minister to visit “Noo Zealand.”

Left unsaid, is Donald Trump would first have to ring this week’s secretary of state to find out where New Zealand is and that he is hosted by a prime minister who isn’t strong on geography either, having earlier thought she was in China when in fact she was in Japan.

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The Awakening of Likability

What gets a politician elected?
There are many things that could and many things that should. However, often it will come down to the one thing that most of us—politicians or not—crave: likability. Likability can win or lose an election. Politicians know that but too often fail to act on it.
In America, Hillary Clinton lost for a lack of it. Few could or should like Donald Trump but liking what he was saying and represents gifted him a presidency. Of the current Democratic hopefuls, Bernie Sanders and Joe Biden are immensely likeable and are front runners because of that. Significantly, none of the six women in the race is coming even close—has Hilary ruined it for women?
Which brings me to New Zealand Politics, Jacinda Ardern and Simon Bridges. There is nothing to like about the first, something to like about the second (at a superficial level), and very little (apparently) to like about the third.
I have been around New Zealand politics and politicians for a long time and remain a political nerd. I watch Question Time. Yes, our elected officials act like school children, but they always have; that’s not an issue. What is an issue for me is MMP. MMP has foisted upon Parliament and us an immense amount of deadweight.
I have observed them in the House—these list and minor party MPs. With few exceptions, they contribute little and possibly care even less. What MMP and the List have given us is quantity not quality.
The fact is all substantial and lasting social developments in New Zealand  (of which we as a country was justly renowned) happened under the First Past the Post system when the House was totally comprised of electorate MPs directly responsible to the electorate.
No, I don’t like MMP at all.
Nor do I Like Jacinda Ardern, though I don’t dislike her either not at least as a person. As Fryday opined last week: I don’t think she is doing her job or is even up to it. But people like her because she is a woman, she is a mother and soon—maybe close to the next election—she will be a bride.
But where is the substance in that? Well, quite a bit actually. The likability factor, notwithstanding my opinion, will probably get her through.
Which brings me to Simon Bridges. Mr Bridges seems like a nice guy and I am told that he is intelligent and compassionate. Trouble is, he and his advisors have failed to convey that. As a result, he does not have that likability factor and, unlike Trump, is not compensating for it by what he is saying.
Not being liked (or disliked) is too substantial a barrier for Bridges’ personality to penetrate. The National Party has to recognise, before its too late, that the electorate does not like the party’s parliamentary leader, and, worse, are not particularly interested in him.
National may not like it, but like it or not likability is everything.

The ultimate win for Winston

The NZ Herald is asking me to pay $2.50 to know something I already know. That’s the weekly subscription fee they require for accessing their online “premium content”. It costs nothing to access ordinary stories, but there is precious few of those, and the interesting and well-written stories, often an oxymoron for the NZ Herald, are behind a paywall.

One of those stories has the enticing headline: “Inside the coalition: Who’s really running the country?” I don’t feel the headline needs the question mark. The answer is so obvious that it should be more a statement.

I will not pay $2.50 to be told Winston is running the country--by deceit, by demigoddery and by default. Our titular prime minister is missing in action for domestic issues. And the government she leads is floundering in an ocean of incredulous actions and inactions.

Almost all of their campaign pledges—the war on poverty, affordable housing, addressing mental health issues, capital gains tax, etc—are in tatters as are the targets to which they aspired.

The Prime Minister, who must shoulder ultimate responsibility, seems uninterested and indecisive on such issues. In fact, the only decisive action she has taken since she came into power was the banning of automatic weapons.
But taking one decisive action and quickly learning the art of looking doleful in the wake of a national tragedy does not a prime minister make.

So, where is she now? Striding the world stage addressing global issues, trying to constrain Facebook—good luck with that.

Meanwhile, we who look for leadership and vision on pressing domestic issues are left with a set of largely incompetent ministers who without a credible head are led by a somewhat disreputable tail--Winston Peters.

Few would doubt that this is Mr Peters’ swansong as a member of parliament. He has probably already been offered a major diplomatic post if this government keeps power. But this term may also be his most important while he builds the legacy he may be most remembered for—restraining an out of control, incompetent and ideologically dangerous government.
 Love or loath Winston Peters now,  ultimately we might all thank him for that.

Fryday...on Fire

Let me ask you a question.

Did you know—before this week’s revelations—that there are rumours about Clarke Gaylord-Ardern?

Second question: Do you know what those rumours are?

I am going to hazard a guess that the answer to both those questions is no.

Nor do I. Nor do I care.

Except for this: In drawing attention to these rumours and assigning them to “dirty politics” Jacinda Ardern and Winston Peters have been both opportunistic and, worse, incredibly naïve. There is no way in the world that these rumours—whatever they allege—are initiated by political opponents.

How do I know this?

First, I have been around politics for a long time and I know that’s not the way it is done. Sure, things are “known” but they are not spread around. There is such a thing as “glasshouses” which is very effective in prevarication of rumours about a political opponent.

Second, a politician’s family and partner are off limits, not particularly because of laudatory motives, but more openly because there is no political capital in attacking them. In fact, quite the reverse—they can elicit sympathy.

So, is the National Party, as implied by Ardern (Jacinda) and Peters, behind these rumours? No. And are Ardern and Peters in public perception made to look foolish for implying they are? Again, the answer is no. The reason being that generally we are inclined to think the worst of people. Ardern and Peters, as seasoned politicians, know this: they are prepared to fan the fire.

Unfortunately for them, in drawing attention to these rumours they have forgotten the public’s propensity toward another old adage regarding fire: where there is smoke… .

I feel sorry for Gayford. I think he is the innocent victim here, and I sympathise about the rumours. But I also think he should question the judgement of his partner in making political capital out of them.

A Fryday Fillip

I have learnt from bitter experience that there are two things you should not do when drunk, apart from getting drunk in the first place, and those are: visit Trade Me, and send emails. The first is self-evident and the second was in my case, a lesson learnt when I wrote an email to Hell’s Angels in Oakland California criticising the quality of their website. For months, I dreaded the roar of Harley Davidsons coming up my driveway. Of course, none did (yet), but I was tempting fate.

I am doing so again today by imparting something my wife said to me. During the taxing task of boiling a couple of eggs for my breakfast (I am very particular about my eggs) she stated the view that terrorists seem to have been quiet of late. My first thought was that I failed to see the juxtaposition between terrorism and my eggs; my second thought was that for the sake of Peace—Household Peace, not World Peace—I should not reveal my first thought; and my third thought was that she is right—there has been very little in the way of reported terrorism.

The question I pose is why? The ideological divide remains and so too, I imagine, does the fanaticism. So, what has changed? If anything?

Well, in terms of umbrella groups ISIS has its problems and is now fighting for survival, and does Al-Qaeda even exist anymore? So, that may have something to do with it. But there is nothing new there---when was the last large-scale, military-style attack? Most recent attacks have been of the lone-wolf variety, involving at most four or five perpetrators. However, even they have dried up—if we don’t count the all-too-frequent and tragic school killings in the United States.

There are two approaches we could take to answering this question. The first is that the global intelligence community has got on top of terrorism and is effectively shutting it down. That is the positive view. The converse view is that someone somewhere is planning something big. I can’t subscribe to that, though. I don’t know much about global intelligence, but I do know that after the failure to detect and predict 9/11, every intelligence organisation in the world, including New Zealand’s, lifted its game and it is virtually impossible to keep anything secret these days; if something big is being planned, I think we would know about it. I also think that terrorist groups such as ISIS no longer have the resources to mount anything substantial, at least in a conventional sense. Of course, there remains the spectre of a biological attack, a cyberattack and the ever-present threat of nutcase with his finger on the nuclear button. But we have lived with those for years.

So, are we through the worst of it? At the risk of courting fate, I very much hope so. We may be at last looking at a better world. A world where Jacinda delivers her baby, if not much else; where Clarke Gayford gets propositioned by an over-amorous shark (and the Herald reports it as its lead story) Hamilton keeps doing what it does best—trying, and I am left in peace to eat my eggs.

As Satchmo said, it is a wonderful world.

Unless I hear a Harley.

So, this is The End...The Doors

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So Jacinda Ardern is pregnant? Or is it more socially appropriate these days to say Jacinda Ardern and Clarke Gayford are pregnant.

And, by the way, the NZ Herald caption for the photo making the announcement says, “Clarke Gayford and Jacinda Clarke are to become parents soon!”

When did that happen? When did she become Jacinda Clarke, or is that just her homage to her mentor Helen Clark?

Anyway, Fryday sincerely congratulates them both, but hopes fervently, if curmudgeonly, that we won’t see a repeat spurt of babies in Parliament as we did post-election. Spare us that, please.

And spare us the NZ Herald…for just about everything these days.

Where is the venerability, where is the gravitas, where is the news of yesteryear?

It has gone. Gone from once sage pages. Replaced by such headlines and “news” stories (today) as: “Kiwi Stars React to Jacinda’s Pregnancy”. The story that follows is comprised mostly of tweets from so-called stars such as ColinMathura-Jeffree, Urzila Carlson (who?), and Matilda Rice—among others.

With the obvious exception of Colin Mathura-Jeffree, they may be important and talented people in their fields (Colin doesn’t have one), but are we really interested in their messages to Mr Gayford and Ms Clarke?

I admit that it takes very little to track down a tweet, but hasn’t the NZ Herald got better things to with its time and staff? And who made these people “Stars” anyway and their views any more relevant than—say—mine, or yours?

I am sorry. This is a story that, as hard as I try, I can’t find any excuse for. It is drivel. It is dross. And if the caption is anything to go by it is also wrong. 

It is, in the end (and it may possibly will be), the NZ Herald, but not as we knew it.