It's Just Not Cricket

Did you see it? A surprisingly large number of sports commentators apparently didn’t. Or perhaps they did see it, but won’t admit to seeing it, so that they don’t have to talk about it.
I am talking about the ICC Cricket World Cup Opening Ceremony miss-performed in Christchurch last night. In my view, and in retrospect God knows why I viewed it, it was New Zealand’s most cringe-inducing television travesty since Ernie Leonard’s and Glyn Tucker’s Club Show in 1979.  The two-hour plus show was amateurish, patronising, ill conceived and, largely, irrelevant. Okay, so why does this upset me? Does it matter that I am upset. Probably not. Except that if it was, as hyped, seen by one billion viewers world-wide (which I seriously doubt) it was unacceptable as a representation of this country. And, long after I thought we as a people had got long beyond this, we were dumbed-down, patronised and presented with an immaturity not seen on television since the hideous days of the 80s. Some specific points:
·      The pre-show opened with a Sri Lankan dance troupe, hardly representative of this country and about as visually striking as Gerry Brownlie performing the Time Warp.
·      The next “act” was a Bollywood dance troupe featuring front and centre an overweight New Zealand blonde woman whose midriff was the only thing wobbling in time with the music.
·      We were then treated to some nondescript female singer, and a song that’s sole raison d'être appeared to be that it was written in Christchurch and sung originally by Christine Aquilera. Who cares?
·      All of the presenters read off hand-held cue cards. Very head-boy’s speech from our secondary school days of the 80s. Couldn’t they have learnt their lines, or at least been cued through their earpieces. Where was the technology?
·      Jeremy Wells? Really?
·      The interminable references to the Christchurch earthquakes. Can we have nothing in Christchurch these days that does not mention them? Sorry, but—please—let’s move on and stop patronising that city.
·      Tall towers like some medieval siege machines, each representing one of the New Zealand playing venues and each having a New Zealand sporting “celebrity” on top of it. The Hawkes Bay celebrity: “Not a lot of people know that Napier has the National Aquarium where you can see lots of fish” and Canterbury cricket legend Chris Harris on top of the Eden Park tower? WTF?
·      Bringing out our Prime Minister as the extra man to play backyard cricket. He looked uncomfortable. We were uncomfortable. And this from a country that has a seat on the Security Council. Seriously?
·      Sir Richard Hadlee trying to look good-humoured and fun-filled, rather than the grumpy old curmudgeon he really is.
·      The Richie McCaw, Stephen Fleming high five fail. All over the news this morning.
I could go on. But won’t. Let’s just get on with the cricket.
And let’s leave it with a positive. Two positives. Just to prove that I am not too a grumpy old curmudgeon. Sole Mio was great (predictably) and Australia’s ceremony was worse. Way worse.

Shine a Light

I like to leave my office light on when I am having sex. I am not in the office, but it is deeply comforting to know that I can reach my computer safely if, as often happens in the midst of coitus, I have an idea for a new book or article. Therefore, I can understand the Christchurch couple leaving the light on while they had unbridled sex in their employers’ office (sex with a bridle is also—well—quite interesting). Theirs was a pragmatic view. As well as a voyeuristic one for pub patrons across the road, many of whom apparently qualify as cellphone Spielbergs. The couple should be applauded, as they no doubt were by said patrons. They provided a public service, not only in showing a commendable attention to safety commensurate with an OSH award, but also demonstrating that sex in the office has returned after a corporate foray into  “work hard, play…not all” and, in this case, providing a visible manifestation that yes indeed insurance does have a passionate side. Who knew? Of course, there is a rider. There is a downside to this. One of the two was married. Our tolerance of such behaviour does have boundaries. Moreover, Fryday says to that couple from Christchurch that you too should have boundaries and keep within them. Because, beyond those boundaries, lay despair, depravity and decadence, or, as some call it, Hamilton.

If I were a carpenter

I miss George W. Bush.
I miss Helen Clark.
I miss Hone.
The heart has been ripped out of Fryday by their departure from the political scene. Elsewhere, writing about Hamilton has become almost as boring as the city itself. Len Brown remains a cheap shot but is already shot, everybody knows it. Whetu, I think, has gone back to prison.
Fryday has nothing to write about.
Except our Canadian-born ambassador for New Zealand Eleanor Catton.
I know it is opportunistic. And I know her remarks are largely a media beat up.  But that doesn’t make those remarks any less offensive to me, or any less spurious. Let’s look at the facts (as I seem them, and does that mean they are less fact than conjecture?):
1.     She feels uncomfortable about being an ambassador for New Zealand. Setting aside that she isn’t, at least in a formal sense, all I can say is don’t be. An ambassador, that is. Nobody asked you to be. And, if you are uncomfortable being one, don’t pretentiously say you are one.  Leave that accolade to those who are genuinely and outspokenly proud of our nation.
2.     She complains of New Zealand’s tall-poppy syndrome. Well, I can’t recall anyone in New Zealand, when she won the Man-Booker or since, who didn’t celebrate with her that distinction. As a nation, we applauded her. None criticised her. And the fact was, the sub-text for Man Booker, “books you are guaranteed to start reading but not to finish”, was quickly swept under the carpet by a laudatory nation. It seems Ms Catton has also done some sweeping herself lately; this tall poppy has “carpeted “her New Zealand Order of Merit (2013), Doctorate of Literature (Victoria University, 2014) and Governor General’s Award for English Language Fiction (2013)—all fine fertiliser for a tall poppy.
3.     She criticises the Government for being neo-liberal, profit-obsessed. Well, it is that same government (and by direct association its profit obsession and tax-payers) who subsidises her position and salary at Manukau Institute of Technology and even the publication of her books by Victoria University Press. If I were a carpenter—or any other tradesperson—I wouldn’t get Government support. I am not sure why Ms Catton, or any other writer, thinks they warrant it. Or why the Government does, for that matter.
I think I had a thing about Eleanor Catton. An emerging thing. I thought there was a new Fryday thread—a new Hone. But now that I have vented. I don’t think there is much more to be said of her. But I do thank her. It is years since I heard the word hua.
For that, and for her and for Mr Plunket, I am a grateful hua.

As Cecil C. Sackrider Sees It: A Brush with Bush

The prospect of another Bush in the White House may not be universally welcome. However, George W. Bush’s younger brother, John Ellis (Jeb) Bush, has announced that he will “actively explore” a bid for the White house in 2016; and, as Fryday’s Alabama correspondent, Reverend Cecil C. Sackrider, sees it, you can never brush off a Bush bid. Reverend Sackrider:

Opinions on the presidency of George W. Bush are divided, even today. Some, such as myself and the great majority of enlightened Americans, consider him one of the greatest Presidents of our time, and a great American. Others, such as my ministry’s former finance director, and my former head of television broadcasts, believe we could have done better. To that group, I say you are wrong—for in questioning George W. Bush’s contribution to the Presidency, to our great nation and to the world, you are questioning God’s. President Bush was and is a man who walks shoulder to shoulder with God, and who has the ear of God—there are only a few of us who can say that. As much as God learned from President Bush (the President’s Letters to God are a revelation, in fact a book of revelations), President Bush would readily admit I believe that he learned from God, and was the instrument of God’s plan and will for the world. It is through misty and moist eyes that we of the True Faith remember those receding halcyon days when our great nation was ruled by God and a Bush in the White House. The days before the darkness. Many of us—most of us—pray for a return to those days. Our prayers may be answered. We have the welcome news, God be praised, that George’s younger brother Jeb is contemplating putting his name forward for the 2016 Presidential Election. The Bush name is not without power and influence among the enlightened, and in this news and in His name we have further evidence God is set to return to the White House. Pray, my fellow Americans, that it comes to fruition. It is God’s will and God’s way that we be blest with a Bush.

For an exact replica of God’s Plan for This World, as delivered personally by God to Cecil C. Sackrider (handwriting verified), send a check or money order (minimum US$99.99) to the Cecil C. Sackrider Ministry 1069E West 35 Street Montgomery Alabama United States of America, Zip Code 666.  All donations over US$50,000 go into the draw to win a three-day family pass to the Cecil C. Sackrider Theme Park. Offer available only to American Christians.

The Cross we Bear

“Kia Ora.”
“Hi. G’day.”
I did not mind. Kia Ora is standard fare these days. Used by Pakehas to indicate they are fair minded, in a patronising way; used by Maori to assert their independent spirit, in a patronising way; and used by this young man because he is Maori and proud of it, in a non-patronising way.
We meet him at Wainui Bay in the Far North. He is one of a group of about 20 Year 12 and 13 students from Papakura High School. It will be for many of them their last year at High School. For this group, all members of the school’s military academy, the next move will likely be the armed forces. For this young man it will be a certainty: he wants to be in the army, the infantry. He cannot wait, he tells us.
He is a little shorter than I am. And slim. Very slim. Athletic, I guess. His face is open and friendly. His demeanour is courteous and confident. He approaches us. And, if there is a just a touch of bro-talk, it is not enough to be demeaning—to him or to us.
His teacher, one of them, is currently serving with the SAS in Afghanistan.  It is boring, the teacher has told the student.
“Are you taught anything about the Napoleonic Wars?” I ask him, hoping to bring up my relationship with Marshal Ney.
“No,” he says. “Only when we are taught about great leaders and leadership.”
I examine this young man closely. He is meditative, attentive, and probably selective. He has moved away from his group; he does not need support. He can confidently talk to anyone—even this much older Pakeha couple with their two dogs, whom he has never met before, on a secluded beach where he has never been before.
Leaders and leadership.  He has been taught well. This young man has very little left to learn.
I think I have just met the next Willie Apiata.

As Rev. Cecil C. Sackrider Sees It: God's Gifts.

Our American religious correspondent, Cecil C. Sackrider, and his new wife, Pastor Bobby-Jo Sackrider, have just returned from an evangelic tour of the Sub-Continent. Tired, but clearly happy, Reverend Sackrider has found time to tell us of his new wife and the blessings he believes God has bestowed upon him, and upon her.

Last night my wife, Bobby-Jo, came in to my bedroom for our nightly prayer. We finished. I blessed her. She started to return to her room but paused at the door. I saw she was troubled and in need of God’s wisdom.

“What is wrong Bobby-Jo,” I asked, kindly.

“Reverend Cecil,” said my wife, “may I ask you a question?”

“Are you in need of God’s wisdom, child?” I asked.

“No, my husband,” she said. “I am in need of yours.”

“I speak for God,” I said, benignly.

“Then, why is it, my Husband, that God, who creates such wondrous beauty as the Magnolia, creates such evil as ISIS?”

I looked upon my wife, with love. So young. Barely 16 years of blessed age. So much to learn. So much for me to mould.

Quietly, encouragingly, I reached out for her tiny hands. Taking them in mine, I looked into her eyes. She lowered hers. “It is simple child. God created the magnolia; satan created ISIS.”

Bobby-Joe looked at me, perplexed. “But surely Reverend Cecil, God created everything.”

“Everything that is good, child.”

“And what is good, Husband? What am I to love God for?”

“First and foremost, Section 501(C) of the Internal Revenue Code.”

“Tax exemption for churches?” she said.

“Exactly,” I said.  I had taught her well. “But God is truly generous. He has given us more.”

“Please tell me,” I could sense her excitement.

“Well,  He gave us:

• Fox News,
• The Republican Party
• Pat Buchanan
• Weapons of Mass Destruction
•  Infomercials –sorry, television preaching
• Gullibility (a great gift)
• BMW
• Former President George W. Bush (a greater gift)…”

“And President Barrack Obama?” she opined.

“No. Sometimes He leaves it to His apprentices. They don’t always get it right.  And yet God has given Me the greatest gift of all…”

“Yes, my husband? What?”

I paused, reflectively.

 “You,” I said, smilingly.

Her eyes glistened. Her little hands tightened in mine.

“Reverend Cecil,” she said, quietly.

“Yes,”  I replied, knowingly.

“May we pray again?”

“Yes,” I replied, lovingly.

“The same way again?”

“Yes,” I replied.

And we did.

For a list of God’s Gifts, as delivered personally by God to Cecil C. Sackrider (handwriting verified), send a check or money order (minimum US$99.99) to the Cecil C. Sackrider Ministry 1069E West 35 Street Montgomery Alabama United States of America, Zip Code 666.  Checks should be made out to CASH (Congregation Against Satan’s Handiwork). All donations over US$50,000 go into the draw to win a three-day family pass to the Cecil C. Sackrider Theme Park. Offer available only to American Christians.

Moaners on the Money

Yesterday the Reserve Bank revealed New Zealand’s new bank notes, which will begin circulation in October 2015. I like them. They are colourful, vibrant  and, in their design, an astute blend of tradition and modernism. That is my opinion, anyway. Others will and do disagree. I knew they would. I said to someone yesterday they would. There is no special prescience in that; all it takes is a knowledge of New Zealanders.  In New Zealand there will always be some—many—who will disagree with something, particularly something subjective such as design. Of course they are entitled to express their opinions, as I am entitled to do about the bank notes and about them. But I can’t help thinking that many of these people do not start and stop with bank notes, or flags for that matter. We seem to have in this country a disproportionate number of perpetual wingers, and that is both disappointing and discouraging. In a past life I was required to deal with some of them—negative thinkers who generally had a raft of eclectic complaints. To be confronted day after day with such complainers was both tiring and tiresome. But I had to do it. For pay. Today, I don’t. So, allow me to vent, from experience: all you glass half empty people, life on my side of the fence that divides us is good. Life is not perfect, but it is a joy. Even in our waking moments we can always find something to look forward to in the day ahead. It is not hard and it will, literally, make our day. Try it. You will like it. And you, in turn, will become more likeable. That said (and vented) let me return to the bank notes and reiterate that—in my world—you are allowed to dislike them. But surely you should do so for the right reasons, and by that I mean realistic and reasonable reasons. Here are some of the reasons, expressed on Twitter, Facebook and the Herald website, given for not liking the bank notes. In quoting, I rest my case on negative thinkers.

• A change in a pay rise would be better.
• Will they print enough to feed all the kids in poverty?
• A country in debt and where (sic) wasting money on money hahaa
• Not that safe to have bright cash …. pretty much saying look what I have, now come and rob me
• How many million did it cost to do that?
• Does the govt have this excess funds? What about our nurses, teachers etc?
• I don't think the colours need to be any brighter? What's the point of that? Won't the ink make it more expensive?

But in this there is humour (Thank God). I like these two comments, both from Facebook:

• Don’t have money long enough to look at it....
• Do we get to have a free sample?

As Cecil C. Sackrider Sees It

The trouncing of the Democratic Party in America’s mid-term election is seen as a resounding blow for President Barrack Obama. But as Fryday’s Alabama based correspondent, Reverend Cecil C. Sackrider, sees it, it is the advent of a re-emerging America.

There is no doubt that the presidency of our great nation’s first black American President has been dealt a telling blow, as have, I suggest, the presidential aspirations of many black Americans. At least those we used to term “uppity”. But it should come as no surprise. If it does, I have news for those folk: it is not called The White House for nothing. I had serious misgivings when Mr. Obama put his name forward and I was horrified (though not surprised) that the Democratic Party selected him. But I was absolutely appalled when the American People voted him in. We are living in strange times. We recall that these were the same people who put Clinton in power, and the same people who decided that perhaps the greatest American President of all time, George W. Bush, was deemed the most disliked President of all time. The devil clouds the judgement of many, whilst The Almighty enlightens. And here in this election we see The Almighty in action. It is His work and His will that sees the return of His party, the Republican Party, to power, and with it the advent of enlightenment.  Never again, it is to be hoped, will we return to the dark times of a black President. God allowed us that experiment so that in failure we could see Light. Do not get me wrong, God is not a racist. He after all created black folk. But I cannot comprehend that He intended them to be anything more in The White House than butlers. Nor was this election lost for the Democrats because Mr Obama is a black man, or because of his lack of performance (something even Mr Obama’s wife Michelle has acknowledged). No, it was lost because it is God’s will. And God’s will is that we should be punished for our treatment of President George W. Bush. Thus, He gave us President Barrack Obama.  Now, in mercy, He removes him. A lesson learned I am sure by all who think that we will again have a black or a future woman President. Neither is in God’s plan for our world, and all free-thinking and righteous folk should thank God for that.

• For an exact replica of God’s Plan for This World, as delivered personally by God to Cecil C. Sackrider (handwriting verified), send a cheque or money order (minimum US$99.99) to the Cecil C. Sackrider Ministry 1069E West 35 Street Montgomery Alabama United States of America, Zip Code 666.  All donations over US$50,000 will go into the draw to win a three-day family pass to the Cecil C. Sackrider Theme Park. Offer available only to American Christians.

Wogistan: A Space Odyssey

The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Office of the Foreign Secretary

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

Email: Info@officeoftheforeignsecretary.govt.wg

Mr Honi Harawira

Parliament Building

Auckland

Aoutearowa

Keaora  Mr Honi

We have investment opportunity for Mr Honi Harawira in Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc). Investment opportunity only available to much moneyed peoples with time on hands. You like.

You invest in Wogistan space programme to send rocket, President Yoseph Flagrantlie, to moon. Suit peoples who like travels. We know you Honi Harawira likes travels. We offer you seat on flight. You claim one fifth of moon as sovereign territory of Peoples Democratic Republic of Aoutearowa. Rest goes to Wogistan.

But weight theres more Mr Honi Harawira. Take offer today and we gives you second seat on flight free. You takes your partner Kim Dotcom with you?  We wave excess weight charge. Rush moneys to us today and you and Kim Dotcoms on trips of your life times.

Ring now!

With sincere facilitations,

Yoseph xxx

Yoseph Wankerstan

Foreign Secretary The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)

Proprietor Spartacus Male Gym and Bathhouse.

Terms and conditions of offer: No return on investment (or rocket).  Mona not included. She find work in my bathhouse. Offer approved and endorsed by Mr John Key esteemed prime minister of New Zealand and peoples of New Zealand.

When the Saints go Marching

With a category 1 listing, the interior of the venerable St James Theatre in Queen Street is immortal. And so it should be. This theatre with its circle and upper circle (The Gods) was so long the city’s premier live performance venue. Its only close competition before 1988, when it was hastily, illegally and unceremoniously demolished, was His Majesty’s Theatre. I could also count the Civic, but I have always and until recently thought of it more of a cinema than a live venue. I don’t know what St James looks like on the inside now. I believe the last time I was in there was for a performance of Cats in 1995. That possibly was the beginning of decline, because I certainly did not go to any of the dance and hip-hop parties that followed at the theatre and which  illustrated so imperfectly the St James’ diminished status and decline.  But, thankfully, to date not its demolition. Yet, it is early days for such optimism. The Herald is reporting only that the theatre “may” have been sold to an unspecified developer in exchange for rights to build a 32-storey apartment and retail enclave next door. However, crucially the report states that the council has also thrown in a complete restoration clause for the theatre. Therefore, we may get it back—and with it a performance venue of grace and comfort (and sound quality) that Vector Stadium cannot hope to meet, and (hopefully) provide for us all a Myley Cyrus free zone.

Our Gift to America

Kim Dotcom has well and truly overstayed his welcome. The perception of him as a big lovable bear much maligned by American business is gone. The same can be said of Nicky Hager whose ridiculous books seemingly owe more to innuendo and vagaries than substantive facts. Put the two together and one is reminded of Laurel and Hardy, and just not in physical resemblance. They, too, were buffoons.
I was away for the election and where I was the New Zealand election was not mentioned, so I had to bring it up. In a vain attempt to elicit interest and empathise with America and Americans, I mentioned that our popular prime minister John Key had an embryonic and empathetic relationship with their president Barrack Obama and the two regularly played golf together.  That just drew what I thought was an unnecessarily churlish response: everybody plays golf with Barrack Obama. Okay, let’s start again. Have you heard of the All Blacks? No. Sir Edmund Hillary? Who? Kim Dotcom? Is he for real? No, but let’s not go there. And there the breakfast conversation ended, with the pancakes still to be served. It is often said of Americans that they know little and care less for anything outside the United States. I believe that to be largely true. One of my early conversations (with a shuttle driver in New York) went like this:
HE: Where you from Bud?
ME: New Zealand.
HE: Noo Zealand? Wow.
ME: Yep.
HE: What language you folk speak there?
But strike them when they are not hungry and hanging out for pancakes (or tips) and you will find Americans warm and friendly and engaging. They can also be genuinely interested in you and your country. My shuttle driver again:
HE: What football you folk play?
ME: Rugby.
HE: Rugby? Wow. Well, I never.
ME: Never played it?
HE: Never heard of it.
So, if the starting point is that they don’t know of rugby or of the All Blacks, there is little point in pursuing discussion about New Zealand.  The Knowledge vacuum is simply too vast. Besides, my mission was to enjoy their country—which I did—not educate it—which I didn’t.
It saddens me however that the starting (and end) point should be the All Blacks and rugby.
I believe we have much more of substance in this great country of ours.
Much more that we should and should share with the world.
Much we could and should give, to America in particular.
Something they want.
Kim Dotcom.