No Max Key discussing the modern phenomena of the cretinous egotist as DJ?
Treasonous talk. The boy's talent was apparent from an early age.
Whoa Joe. I’m really not keen on personal attacks, especially after last week’s stows. James is due a right of reply.
All I can offer in my own defense is a certain fatigue, brought about by the deficit in local democracy, of taking things on trust. I'm sorry Russell, I should have realised this was not the place.
Tahu Potiki's columns gave the impression of a compliant buffoon, who'd occasionally leaven his plodding support for the moneyed end of town with a little antediluvian homespun philosophy. Here he is calling for the death of the elephant who accidentally killed her keeper. Fortunately more civilised heads prevailed, and she's currently able to spend her days in the company of her own kind.
Potiki's tame columns made him an ideal token Maori presence in the Press's reactionary stable of opinion-smiths. Now that the big establishment money's jumped the First Four Ships for the Ngai Tahu whaka there's little point in even maintaining the pretence of a Maori voice.
For your records Joe, I'm not a Rogernome, I prefer to be identified with things I've actually done so if you want to attack me blame me for the fifth labour government, not the fourth...I'm Pakeha, my partner is Ngāi Tahu and Ngāti Porou.
Good old whakapapa. Something you're happy to invoke when it suits, yet how utterly wicked of me to entertain, even for a moment, that your self-made spot on the gravy train might have anything to do with your being the son of a unreconstructed Rogernome.
I've never worked for Ngai Tahu Property, or any of the iwi's commercial subsidiaries. I was for three years the General Manager of Tribal Interests for the Office of Te Rūnanga. One of the teams in my group managed the tribal properties returned to the iwi as part of the settlement.
That's a hair-splittingly fine distinction.
When I sought Don Selwyn's endorsement of Te Rerenga Wairua, an animated film based on the spirits' journey in the afterlife, he reacted like an Old Testament prophet with dire warnings of supernatural consequences.
Sorry, that should read "When I sought Selwyn Muru's endorsement". At the time I most definitely never confused him with Don Selwyn.
Selwyn was a firecracker.
Selwyn took a bit of a shine to me in the 90s when I had to interview him for a story once. He had a lot to say, than man. He's still with us, of course, but suffering from dementia.
When I sought Don Selwyn's endorsement of Te Rerenga Wairua, an animated film based on the spirits' journey in the afterlife, he reacted like an Old Testament prophet with dire warnings of supernatural consequences. Naturally I was chastened, until a helpful intermediary suggested a meeting with the late Don Selwyn.
Always unshakeably amiable, Don told me not to worry about Selwyn Muru, as he probably didn't want anyone else touching the story before he got around to doing his own version. As he had so many projects on the go there was no risk of that happening in the foreseeable.
Of course every time something went wrong, which it often did, I'd think "Ah this'll be Selwyn Muru's makutu", but so far, touch wood, I'm still cool. I was most impressed by his front fence, an amazing hybrid of pa palisade and junk sculpture. He told a story about a German tourist knocking on his front door asking for a copy of "the plan", so he could replicate it back in Germany.
For instance why on earth has Keri Hulme has never had a newspaper column?
She did for a while. in her post Bone People flush of media friendliness. It was in one of the then Sunday papers, when she also wrote occasional Listener reviews.
He was very pleased that the lot included a set of original 1980s Simmons drum pads – which went for about $5000 back in the day. Cue synthetic drumroll.
Ha! Remember how cutting-edge those things were, and NME's review of Kraftwerk's Man-Machine era London show which featured Simmons precursors - "This is what our fathers died to save us from".
It's easy to get the impression that this is another of those NZME paid campaigns, such as their recent multi-platform flag promotion paid for by taxpayers.
Portraying people who've exercised the courage of their convictions as a bunch of gormless dupes may be a tired old song, but they'll roll it out every time. I'd kind of hoped for a little originality, such as making the claim that the entire turnout consisted of webtrolls counting heads. I guess the problem with that would be that the people who take to the streets mostly don't look like terminal acne cases.