Muse by Craig Ranapia

I hate pidding all over whatever Christmas cheer you've managed to muster - and taking aim at Garth George, The Herald's resident Witi Ihimaera, is as cheap as Chinese sweatshop tinsel - but  this disasterpiece of bathetic auto-plagiarism is irresistible.

At the centre of Christian belief is that with the birth of Jesus Christ God himself came down to Earth to dwell among his people.

The tiny hands that so entranced Mary and Joseph in the Bethlehem manger would one day reach out to the diseased, the lame, the blind, the deaf, the anxious, the grieving, the fearful, the helpless and the hopeless with an infinitely compassionate healing touch.

The tiny mouth which sought his mother's breast would later speak words the like of which had never been heard before; words which explained for the first time the reality of God's eternal, unquenchable love for all mankind, the depth of his desire to be fully reconciled with his children and to be allowed to be a perfect father to everyone.

I'm going to have the image of the Virgin Mary's pert nipples burned into my mind's eye until Twelfth Night, which (I hope) was not the intended effect.  Cleanse your mind's eye with a master class in how you do seasonal pathos, without the sugary encrustation of Xmas kitsch...

John Betjeman's Christmas, read by Farnham Town Crier Jonathan Jones.

And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

Take notes, Garth, and don't forget the attribution.

And as for you, faithful readers, have a safe and pleasant holiday season - even if you don't believe a word of it.

I'm sure we'll all live to regret it, but I've been invited to be the Paul Henry analogue on The Discourse Weekly Show's Discourse Votes 2011 HD-internet-tele-thingy, alive from an undisclosed location in glamourous Newmarket on Saturday 26 November from 7pm. 

The brief, according to the e-mail I got from co-host Dylan Reeve after an impromptu invite on Twitter is as follows:

We kick off at 7pm and will basically spend the next four-hours talking shit about the election and stuff while delivering election results.

To avoid becoming crazy and repetitive we're looking for any and all guests who can offer interesting comments, insights, rants or interpretive dance...

We will basically be winging it, so you're welcome to come in more-or-less whenever, and stay for as long as feels comfortable.

MUSE readers might be aware that something's happening on Saturday and as a public service (in accordance with Friday tradition) here's some You Tube tunes if you're suffering from politics fatigue.

Of course, you may think there's some oblique commentary going on, but I couldn't possibly comment. (And just to make sure nobody does on Election Day in possible breech of election law, I won't turn the comments on until Sunday morning.)

If your default setting for politics is "grim, bitter cynicism" what better place to start than Stephen Sondheim's Company - a grim, bitterly cynical look at another fine institution? Marriage.  Here's two clips from John Doyle's minimalist 2006 Broadway revival.  

'The Little Things You Do Together' (Barbara Walsh & company)

'You Could Drive A Person Crazy' (Raul Esperanza, Kelly Jeanne Grant, Angel Desai and Elizabeth Stanley)

'Pocket Calculator' (Brent Amaker & The Rodeo)  If you've given up trying to make sense of anyone's sums a country-fried Kraftwerk cover can't do any harm. Right?

'Dear Lord and Father of Mankind [Live]' (Neil Hannon)  "...forgive our foolish ways"?  Someone has to say it. 

'Walls Come Tumbling Down!' (The Style Council) Paul Weller and chums go to Warsaw, and a music video takes on an added layer of irony with hindsight. Last heard this call to arms playing over the PA at a mall while Christmas shopping. Draw your own conclusions.

'1999' (Prince and The Revolution) Party over, out of time?  Then girl-on-girl frottage behind the keyboards like it's 1999. (Hey, it was the 80's - it seemed like a good idea at the time.)

'Jesus bleibet meine Freude' (Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring)' (J.S. Bach, arranged and performed by Dame Myra Hess) Just because it's heartbreakingly fraking beautiful.

At Muse we respect our elders, but often wish they didn't make it so damn difficult.  However this charmless item on Morning Report, has focused Muse's final major policy release of the 2011 campaign season.

Grey Power is being criticised for calling on Auckland Council to review the number of Asian immigrants in the city.

As part of a submission for Auckland Council's 30-year plan, the lobby group asked for a forum to look at the changing face of Auckland and the impact of different cultures.

Grey Power's submission is based on population forecasts which suggest the Asian community will be the dominant ethnic group in Auckland by 2040.

Auckland regional director Bill Rayner says the proposal is not meant to offend anyone, but many of its members want the country's population to remain Pacific-based and not have such a large Asian component.

With all due disrespect to Mr. Rayner, if his organisation doesn't mean to be offensive it really should try not putting its name to submissions that sound like a Winston First press release. 

The only think that can be said in favour is that it's nowhere near as bizarre as as this pre-senile bigot in last Thursday's issue of The Aucklander:

Des Dunlop is a sixth generation New Zealander. He's seen the country go through a lot of changes - some he's not too sure about. And he's not afraid to speak his mind about them.

"Us old guys go to town and it's a case of 'spot the white man'," says the 71-year-old Milford resident. "I don't want to live in a culture where we're the minority. I don't want to see the city overrun with people from Asian countries."

Big deal.  My whanau have been here for at least six centuries. Doesn't make me any less of an arse-bag when I spout ignorant, bigoted foofy-tosh in public. It does get a lot worse - Dunlop's penetrating analysis of the Asian penchant for "dogbox" housing and incomprehensible old bludgers scamming free bus rides is just precious.  But I couldn't bother writing another futile detailed rebuttal of immigrant-bashing after reading this:

Mr Dunlop isn't afraid of being called a racist.

"I'm entitled to say what I like, when I like, where I like and how I like. That's the way I was brought up."

And so he is.  Just as I might be perfectly entitled to find his address on the electoral roll, publish it and encourage the Yellow Peril to stage a rolling flash-mob outside his house.  Ethnic cooking smells, pagan cultural practices and weird jibber-jabber not only welcome but obligatory. With any luck, it would frighten the racist old fool to death before he brings further shame on the neighbourhood.

The hook in this plan is that it's a dreadfully inefficient use of time that could be better spent running takeaway bars and being good at math.

Wouldn't it kinder and more cost-effective if all these miserable, terrified old white people were released from their suffering?  The first act of a Muse-lead Government will be to lower the compulsory retirement age to 30 immediately.  Instead of trying to pay for pensions, we will wipe out youth unemployment (and pretty much everyone else) by following the blueprint laid out in science fiction classic Logan's Run.

You know in your heart it makes sense. Be strong. Renew!

One of the perils and pleasures of the internet is deluding yourself that work-avoiding browsing is "research".  In a desperate attempt at self-justification, I'm ripping off the Shelf Life feature from The Spectator's Book Blog.  Twelve questions as simple - or complex - as you care to make them.  And, I hope, illuminating as well.

1) What are you reading at the moment?

Just finished reading (and reviewing for The Listener) Stephen King's 11.22.63 and P.D James' Death Comes to Pemberley.  Giving my eyes a day off.

2) As a child, what did you read under the covers?

Trick question - you can't see anything with your head under the covers.

3) Has a book ever made you cry, and if so which one?

No, but Art Spiegelman's MetaMaus -- especially the audio interviews of Spiegelman's father on the DVD-R included with the book -- is coming pretty damn close. 

4) You are about to be put into solitary confinement for a year and allowed to take three books. What would you choose?

The Collected Works of Flannery O'Connor.  The Bible (King James Version). A year of solitary confinement might also be the perfect opportunity to finish War and Peace (translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, who are the focus of this fascinating New Yorker essay).

5) Which literary character would you most like to sleep with?

Aeneas -- no disrespect to Queen Dido of Carthage, but while it's all great fun shagging some buff, swarthy demi-God on a mission you should be thankful when they decide to push off.  

6) If you could write a self-help book, what would you call it?

If I could write a self-help book, I'd be far too busy taking all that good advice to write any of it down. 

7) Which book, which play, and which poem would you make compulsory reading in high school English classes?

Taking life seriously enough to laugh at it is a valuable skill you should learn as early as possible, with frequent refresher courses.  So put Leave It To PSmith (P.G. Wodehouse), The Importance of Being Earnest and a collected edition of the poems of Wendy Cope on the syllabus.

8) Which party from literature would you most like to have attended?

Any one in Pride and Prejudice affording the opportunity to slam a piano lid on Mary Bennet's fingers.

9) What would you title your memoirs?

'Here Lies'

10) If you were an actor, which literary character do you dream of playing?

Lily Bart in The House of Mirth.

11) What book would you give to a lover?

That would be kissing and telling.

12) Spying Mein Kampf or Dan Brown on someone's bookshelf can spell havoc for a friendship. What's your literary deal breaker?

Owning a copy of 'Mein Kampf' is not grounds for a social death sentence. Being a neo-Nazi is.  Nor is it any great tragedy to lose the aquaintance of someone who'd snub you for owning trashy popular novels - even one as ghastly as  The DaVinci Code.

Feel free to come up with your own answers, quibble or denounce this whole exercise in trvial foofy-tosh below.