Public Address - Speaker (Home)

So Who Really Are Our Heroes? | Jun 18, 2003 08:51

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

Well, they've confirmed that arsenic is in the Waikato River, but never fear, the filtering process strips that out, and the pesticides, herbicides, bacteria, chemicals and assorted crap ending up in it between Lake Taupo and Meremere. I understand that the unfortunate thing is that the company that tests the efficacy of the filtering process is the same company that runs it.

Which brings me to a horrifying conclusion. Maybe the Water Pressure Group was right all along. God knows, as Russell B. has testified himself, that Penny Bright and the WP Group are not the easiest people to deal with.

Bloody-minded, dogmatic, aggressive, in-your-face confrontational. But get past that, and there's a lot of sense behind what they say. I guess on one level, the WP Group resort to anger through loud noises and concreting water mains, interspersed with berating the media (and in one very sad case, Phil Raffills, dying of cancer at the time) – making them our version of suicide bombers. However, I must say that resorting to strident calls for action against the powers that be rather than violent mayhem is a very New Zealand approach (thank God)!

Which led me to think, however, that in a way, these people are our heroes. We may not think so now, but give it 20 years.

Look at John Minto. Once viewed as a dishonourable "professional protester" by much of the country in very ugly fashion during the 1984 Springbok tour. At the time, he was vilified and on occasion, beaten, along with other protesters. Now, pretty much everyone agrees that what they were fighting for was a just cause and Minto's place in history is now 'anti-racism warrior'.

Minto had commitment and persistence. He had a vision of a better place and goals to achieve. Which he did. And now he's still getting up people's noses, fighting for a better education for our children.

Go back fifty years to the 1951 Waterfront Lockout and many of the union leaders, especially Jock Barnes, eventually became heroes – kiwi icons. During the lockout the Government passed legislation that made it illegal to give the workers food!

These men, some of whom fought in WW2 against fascism, found fascistic methods being employed against them in their own country. But they fought on and now many who know the circumstances of that fight believe they fought justly. Regardless of the merits of the fight, in the context of history, they have become heroes.

There are Maori who have fought for indigenous rights in this country who are now loved by the country but were once considered radicals and 'stirrers'. Ex-City Councillor, Maire Leadbeater fought for East Timor for years. Everyday, thousands of people around the country take pen to paper, as Amnesty International members, to write to dictators and tyrants, pressuring them to treat political prisoners with respect and fairness and often gaining their release.

Everyday, there are people who work to make this a better place. Take pen to paper. Take action. Claim the right.

In a city bereft of monuments to great people (our heroes) building a $10,000,000 glass case (beautiful as it is) for a yacht as a remembrance for a man who tried to save the oceans – a task slightly more important than winning a billionaires' yacht race a couple of times – is, at best, inappropriate.

Question the logic of the person chosen as our city's leader to spend $100,000 on an opening party for something he condemned and to which most of us won't be invited (the irony of a horse-drawn carriage being used to open a rail terminal has not been lost) every chance you get.

What is the difference between a Banks and a Minto? On the face of it the similarities are startling. Commitment, persistence. But there is a crucial difference: fighting for a cause greater than oneself. Herein lies Banksie's ultimate failing. I don't think he believes there is anything greater than himself.

Please – could we have more Mintos and Brights and fewer Banksies?

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In my life | Jun 11, 2003 10:16

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

The start of another week brings a familiar emotional response -- like I've been here before. And of course, I have. Every week.

We've been had, you know. We were led to believe we could, no -- should -- have lives of excitement, doing anything we wanted.

The harsh reality (isn't it amazing how clichés really can capture a truth) is that life is mostly banal. Mondays begin with trepidation and distaste, for even the most exciting of jobs. Saved one life, saved a few (at least, that's how it appears on ER).

"Most men lead lives of quiet desperation" is the saying. In fact, most lives are made up of mundane routine, leading to increasing frustration.

There is always the excitement of the novel, even the frisson of fear when something goes wrong, that alleviates the feeling briefly. Shopping has replaced religion as the balm of the soul, but the pleasure of something new is so brief. No wonder church is every Sunday. By Friday, that religious fervour has worn off and it's time to party. Sunday, of course, brings hangovers, guilt, contrition and confession.

Most of my friends are hitting 40. Many are going through changes and re-evaluations. It's not an easy time for them. But it's not an unusual experience. Books have been written, movies have been filmed, fortunes have been made in detailing the trauma of realising youth is fleeing and perhaps there are things other than the career in which 20 odd years have been invested.

There's a realisation that perhaps the slave to Mammon approach may not have been the best one after all. But it's a bitch when it hits you at that age and you're up to your eyeballs in mortgages and car payments and you have children to put through the best schools you can afford.

I think what most have missed is the constant need to re-evaluate their lives on an ongoing basis -- not just to make sure what they're doing is the right thing, but to make sure what they're doing is based on values that are solid, consistent and core. Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living" and even Satre had a go at providing a framework for people to create meaning in their lives.

It's not that the ends justify the means, but that the means, especially when carried out within a values-based context, are a satisfying avenue to the ends -- and often become ends in and of themselves. (Does this make sense?)

So what drives us forward? What gets us out of bed to shuffle off to work? Surely not merely a sense of mindless duty? Of cause, there's always the rent/mortgage but downsizing can't be that bad. If, in fact, it's chasing the dream of a bigger house, faster car, newer lounge suite, then that strikes me as a rather empty chase, with nothing but disappointment at the end. Having said that, I want that new car. The thing is, once you've got it, there's the next thing, and the next...

For me, there's a mixture of things: doing and experiencing new things -- extending my outlook and perspective; doing what I think is good -- making this world a better place than the world in which I live (as the song goes).

In my life, I have lived in foreign countries; I have dined with dictators and partied with rock stars. I have written a book; I have excelled in sport. I have loved and been loved. I have leapt off tall buildings and created new things. There's nothing like a challenge to keep life interesting.

But there's always something new to learn, to do, to experience. It's not easy. It's scary because there are mistakes to be made. And life continually deals you items from left field. Roll with the punches and ride the waves when they come in.

But fundamentally, find something to give your life meaning. Decide what it is that makes your life worth living and invest in it. Take the risks continually. Sometimes it doesn't work out but welcome to life! As bad as it is, it will get better (and as good as it is, there's always crap coming at you). Deal with it. Help other people. Be good. Do Good. (cue Desiderata and the Sunscreen Song).

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The Voicing of Opinion is fraught | May 28, 2003 18:54

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

The curse of public musings is the misperceptions caused by people either misreading the comment or, through poor communication skills on the part of the writer causing confusion on the part of the reader.

Since there were only a few responses critical of my complaint against arrogant pedestrians (arrogant anything for that matter – the flip-side to inconsideration), and in the belief there were more than five people who read my posting, I can only assume it was the misreading thing rather than the confusion thing.

Let me explain.

I do not advocate cars running down pedestrians. Ollie, I do not drive a Remuera Tractor. I ride a Vespa (I would have thought that was reasonably apparent by my earlier postings, which also reinforces my belief you didn't read it properly).

I am even a pedestrian myself, on regular and frequent occasions.

When I am a pedestrian, I endeavour to hasten across the street when there is traffic approaching – to get out of the way, since roads are for cars and footpaths are for pedestrians.

I would have thought this was somewhat self-evident. But no. Instead I am criticised for complaining about pedestrians who saunter across the road even while cars (NOT driven by me) are bearing down on them. Whatever – I'll let you pick a fight with a Stagecoach bus; I'll just hurry off the road.

24 finishes on Thursday night.

The story concerns a US government manipulated and eventually taken over by corrupt businesspeople and politicians hellbent on war in the Middle East to further their oil interests. No doubt the fictional version will pull back from the brink at the last minute and the world will be saved.

However, if the story was fleshed out one would no doubt be able to see harsh, unspecified Middle East regimes terrorising and oppressing their people – a perfect justification for waging military action.

And therein lies the ultimate dilemma for all us pale pink liberals. It is logical to lament the ills of the Hussein totalitarian dictatorship and to celebrate its downfall.

It is beholden on us to do so, even if it was achieved via a US administration perceived by much of the world as Machiavellian and harbouring dubious intentions; as a bully on the world stage and with as much religious-driven self-righteousness as any Islamic fundamentalist terrorist.

So we can celebrate the ends, and even the means, which were much less onerous than anticipated. (The peace is a different issue.)

But it is the intention of the US that is to be questioned.

Whether for oil or to eliminate terrorism, the 'might=right' argument (to borrow one of my critics arguments against pedestrians removing themselves swiftly from rapidly approaching large vehicles – not, I presume, scooters) provides a short-term solution and potentially spawns much greater problems in the longer term.

Russell B. has continued to say it better than this, and for longer, but I wanted to get this off my chest, because of a feeling of self-contradiction and hypocrisy in being pleased that Hussein was gone but a gnawing at my bones that it was done the wrong way.

Not to mention the precedent now established of 'righteously' attacking a perceived threat in another sovereign state prior to any overt action by that state. Hell – the US has nukes pointed at Russia – does that not now give Russia the justification to launch a pre-emptive strike?

The other concern I have, is with many of the opponents to the war. Not necessarily wishing to side with Christopher Hitchens, nevertheless, his criticism of anti-war liberals seems to me to stem in part from the knee-jerk reaction by either 'side' of the Left-Right political debate to any suggestion by the other.

Because an idea comes from a group or individual associated with a particular political philosophy, that idea, per se, is deemed 'wrong'. This is intellectual laziness at its worst and in part, I believe, at the core of Hitchen's complaint. (A perfect demonstration of this is from Dennis Dutton's piece in the Herald. Dutton buys into the US viewpoint completely and conducts an ad hominem (attacking the person) attack on those who disagree with him which only demeans his viewpoint and, as Dutton himself says, "there's an intellectual laziness in this and a lack of moral imagination" - talk about 'pot calling the kettle…' and all that).

My experiences with both sides has given me a jaundiced view of politics, even though I am fascinated by it and continue to believe there are good people wishing to do good things caught up in it.

On the one side, there are the politics of selfishness. On the other, the politics of envy. And that's why people aren't voting. Or voicing opinions in public.

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Mindless rant against crap attitudes | May 19, 2003 19:22

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

Right.

Enough rose-tinted spectacle stuff. I mean, it's nice but you eventually want something with an edge to it to keep you sharp. And, of course, there's an abundance of it about:

What is it with lazy dog owners who can't be arsed picking up their dog's poo like the rest of us?

What's with the attitude of jaywalkers staring you down when you almost run them over while they saunter across the road (Hell-o. Roads are for motorised vehicles and 2 tonne of steel vs 70kgs of flesh is a one-sided duel.)

Bastard drivers who run red lights. Not orange-going-on-red. RED, as in STOP. If one of those pricks hits me as I take off, I'm dead. I rather resent the possibility.

Stagecoach drivers parking their buses so the backside takes up half a lane and blocks all the traffic at peak hour. Very considerate.

Stagecoach drivers with buses discharging toxic waste into the atmosphere... and my face. In fact, any driver that discharges toxic waste because they're too lazy/cheap/ignorant to get their car/truck/van tuned up.

People who lack the simple courtesy of "Thank You" and "Please".

Rude drivers who refuse to let you cross into their lane so you can escape the mania of our motorways.

People who drop rubbish. The other day I say three middle-class late teens carefully place coke bottles and empty fast food bags on the steps of a CBD office building, 50 metres from a rubbish bin. That they were walking towards.

People who don't pick rubbish up.

John Banks.

Bill English, who suggests penalising beneficiaries who don't ensure their kids go to school but doesn't know how many there actually are who have this problem (but it's not really beneficiary bashing).

The National Party generally, who seem to think that the only way to beat Labour is by taking over the redneck vote from ACT and NZ First.

New Zealanders, who seem to be buying it (National support up 8% to 28% at the expense of the smaller parties).

The US Government. Did anybody else see 24 the other night? How's this for a far-fetched scenario: A group of shadowy American oil tycoons allow a terrorist group to explode a nuke in LA so they can lay the blame on some dodgy (but in this instance, blameless) Arab states so the US invades and they take over the oil. Never happen.

And it's my birthday today and I'm still at work.

But here's the thing. The irritation and the laziness and the lack of responsibility and the greed and the ignorance (bliss perhaps, but no excuse) are part of the human condition. Raging against it is as futile as, well, cutting off your nose...

But I hate it. And I will fight it. And fight it and fight it. Because we can be so much better. And I will get older.

There, rant over for the day.

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Simple pleasures | May 15, 2003 13:59

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

Deadline looms on the mag, so my day consists of chasing up ads booked, chasing up ads yet to be booked, chasing along editorial in the studio being laid up, chasing up editorial yet to be written, cleaning up the mailing list, co-ordinating with the printer, terrorising the sales team, conducting PC skills seminars with techno-illiterate staff, avoiding the database as much as possible and trying to find time to get some exercise in, walk my dog and spend time with my wife loving her.

In short -- like most people's day. Things disappear into banal routine while I try to sort out outstanding events from the past couple of days -- without whingeing. I've discovered it's incredibly difficult to remember specifics that have a positive feel to them.

There's my 'treat from Trinity' Monday afternoon (Trinity is the Parnell café I frequent) -- lemon tart: unexpected, free and delightful (thanks Kimberly!). There's the night I spent with Shelley Monday night. Zipping home with a 10kg bag of pine offcuts balanced precariously and dangerously on my lap on the Vespa, groceries and vino hanging off the carry hook on the front of the seat, cursing at meandering drivers along Jervois Rd (all the while pretending to be Italian), early for a change, and in time to cook dinner -- baked snapper fillet with oven roasted tomatoes, mushrooms, garlic and onions liberally splashed with olive oil -- first fire of the season roaring, glass of wine ready, foot rubs and canoodling on the couch watching TV and the latest episode of 24. Perfect.

We bumped into Sue, our elderly next door neighbour, as we walked up to the dairy to get milk for coffee the next morning. Her husband of 40-odd years died recently of cancer. She's selling up, moving on. Going to the Gold Coast to live her last days in the warmth amongst fat, bad-taste Australians (isn't it all Sylvania Waters up there?). As we continued on, both Shelley and I had a flash into a future where one of us was left lingering after the other had gone. We stopped and held each other, our eyes welling with tears, and resolved to die within minutes of each other, holding hands. It was an intensely and pleasurably melancholic moment.

There's Scooter, my dog, my second-best girl, though number one won't chase sticks like Scoot (so-named before the Vespa arrived). There's such unadulterated joy in being welcomed home by your dog, watching her skipping in unrestrained happiness. She chases sticks with enthusiasm -- literally bouncing like Tigger as she reaches them, pounds over the mudflats at Garnet Rd with abandon -- tide in or out.

The conversation on favourite movies this afternoon was another dose of pleasure. Finding another soul who enjoys film and can compare notes on Peter Greenaway, the Coen Brothers, et al. This, I believe, goes to the heart of the human condition. Not talking about movies but finding common ground with another being -- taking us out of our solipsistic perspective.

I must admit, ironically after the previous paragraph, to being thoroughly pleased with getting the Star Trek joke thrown out into the meeting and riffing off it while almost everyone else looked lost and bemused. Nothing like being in on the joke (boosts my natural feeling of superiority -- at least until I become the butt of something I'm NOT a part of... Hubris always swings into an ego-slam), but of course, is completely at odds with the shared experience thing. Go figure.

There's the smell of fresh coffee wafting into the bathroom as I step out of the shower in the morning. The brief thrill of pretending with Shelley that we could call in sick and play in the city all day, visiting art galleries, going to the movies, shopping and drinking... coffee, wines, beers... whatever's going.

But, no. We look at each other and laugh and kiss and say our goodbyes. Till the fire, the sofa, Scooter and home tonight.

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Fixing a city | May 12, 2003 16:15

GUEST Mark Graham in Auckland

This wasn't going to be about John Banks. But it is, so sorry if he doesn't hit your radar screen. He looms rather large in mine - mostly as a result of my passion for living in Auckland and the negative impact he has had on the city.

I often plunge into a pool of bracing autumn air that appears at the bottom of West End Rd in the middle of Cox's Bay, while riding to work early in the morning on my Vespa. My Citroen blew up last year and while the scooter fits my politics, it helps me deal to Auckland's traffic in a very efficient manner. It always surprises me and focuses my attention on the immediate, rather than the many issues I happen to be grappling with at the time.

However, I've usually forgotten it by the time I hit Jervois Rd where I have to deal with fume-belching 4-wheel drives and half asleep people in questionable control of semi-guided vehicular missiles (everyone is an enemy on the road when you ride a scooter). There, issues resurface to compete for attention with Stagecoach buses that will squash a slow-moving impudent Vespa rider, given half a chance (not that I'm slow-moving). The bigger questions always get forced to the rear by buses and crises I'm in the middle of solving.

In my personal life, work is booming but there's the constant fear that I'll fail to master the challenge I've recently undertaken - to turn around an underperforming magazine - yet I'm relishing the task which presents issues to solve on a daily (sometimes half-hourly) basis and I'm feeling at the top of my game.

There's an inevitable house extension in the planning if children are to eventuate (a 60m² ex-State duplex is not a viable option - and I don't care if they do it in other countries), which will stretch budgets but also brings excitement and creative expression at an intensely personal level - into my nest, my retreat, my HOME!

The prospect of producing offspring, apart from the immediate and (we're anticipating) shattering change in lifestyle, is full of the expectation of joy, but I experience anxiety attacks about losing my dog - how the hell am I going to live with the possibility of losing my child?

Age is bringing a noticeable decline in physical robustness and resilience, yet I've never felt more comfortable in my own skin (flabbier as it is) and more in control of my life.

And, something I never thought I'd ever admit, I almost agreed with a reported comment made by John Banks yesterday morning.

The Mayor told the National Party conference that if they fix Auckland's problems, they'd fix the nation's (and their own).

But what are those problems? Everyone is bemoaning the traffic and its cost to the economy (get a scooter). However, I have yet to visit any city of a size comparable to Auckland that doesn't suffer from this problem. Of the two cities I know who are tackling the issue with creative solutions - London and Portland - London's approach has only just been introduced and Christine Fletcher was pushing for Portland's, which inevitably means the current council won't. And while taxes are always an easy option, more motorways for poorly maintained Stagecoach buses remains the focus of Banks et al.

Auckland has suffered from years of insufficient investment in infrastructure. So has the rest of the country. But is that a central government role or a result of poor governance at a local government level? In Auckland's case, at least, I would suggest the latter. I know a consultant to the City Council who now refuses to let his children swim in the harbour. Bollocks to the old 'No Poo in Piha' campaign - how about 'No heavy metals at Mission Bay'?

Pollution, then? Sorry - can't see the party of free enterprise worrying about poorly tuned Japanese imports and SUVs (American for 4-wheel drives) spewing diesel and petrol fumes into the atmosphere. There's bound to be a market solution there somewhere (and the Segway won't be it as no-one will be able to afford it here and who wants to ride one when it rains in Auckland, anyway?).

The only other real issue I can think of is Poverty (other than too much poor coffee being served). Here, at least, is an issue that can be addressed by central government (Poverty not coffee, tho they may have a better chance of success with the java issue).

However, the National party's response (seemingly, along with ACT's, and perhaps this is part of the problem) - reduce taxes and get businesses working better and everyone will be better off, begs the question - why didn't it work last time, fellas?

It just doesn't seem likely that addressing poor education, poor health and crime effectively - each one the progeny of poverty - is to be sourced from the party that has exacerbated the problem so much over the past 20 years.

So, as with most comments made by the Mayor, it's pretty much a load of bollocks under close examination. He may be keeping a lower profile these days - no-one has been jailed for speaking at a Council meeting lately - but there are those of us who have not forgotten.

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