Posts by Joe Wylie
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And so it goes, SORRY but that is how it is
SORRY? So it's all your fault then? Why you little prick . . . :)
Privately she probably would have given him the boot at the first opportunity, if it wouldn't have led to a hung parliament.
Yeah . . . it did puzzle me at the time that National didn't go much harder on the Field thing. They seemed to be playing some kind of give 'em enough rope strategy, rather than going in with everything they had - and a bit that they didn't - as they did with Benson-Pope.
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. . . am I the only person . . .
Oh you're special all right, no doubt about that. Field's sanctimonious religious posturing has already damned him as a card-carrying scoundrel, and Clark's failure to cut him loose the moment he started to stink is a blot on her career.
Regarding the near-hopelessly constipated court system that's relegated Field's case to relative obscurity, will the Urewera accused live long enough to come to trial?
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No, the relevant Kiwiblog thread is much, much nastier than that.
Much, much nastier than Sacha's dissing of the token house monument to right-wing intellectual vanity? Golly.
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Can anyone advise what the police did before guns . . .
Once upon a time they had plastic guns.
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. . . the kind of person who has elevated psychology into a secular religion . . .
"The freud will see you now," said the nurse, and Mrs. Garvy tottered into his office. His traditional glasses and whiskers were reassuring. She choked out the ritual. "Freud, forgive me, for I have neuroses."
C. M. Kornbluth, The Marching Morons.Latta is the kind of person who seems happy to fast-track us to that very dystopia.
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Every time I hear Nigel Latta talk, he talks about his own substantial achievements. That they are, in comparison to maybe his clients . . .
While not all shrinks are given to big-noting themselves à la Latta, there are those who find little problem dealing with their clients' craziness because it's pretty miniscule compared to their own.
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I've often wondered: are the people of other countries filled with such endless angst about their own provincialism and insularity? Or do they just not give a toss?
Me too. I've certainly detected something of that insecurity in Singapore, mostly around the issue of whether the world perceives them as a real country, rather than a glorified airport.
It's certainly a long-standing tradition in in these parts. In the American author Robin W. Winks's These New Zealanders (1954), an outsider's overview of NZ that found a ready local audience, the author claims that New Zealanders are afflicted with an anxiety that someone will someday publish a map of the world, and casually slap an advertisement over NZ.
When the much-travelled English botanical artist Marianne North visited NZ in 1881 the crassness of the inhabitants, along with the freezing weather, severely tested her usual cultural sensitivity. She found a like-minded soul in the then governor, Sir Arthur Gordon:
. . . I moved into his house and heard him abuse the island with as much heartiness as I did. He said, justly, something must be wrong with a country that required so much laudation.
It was later that same year, when Gordon was on a visit to the Pacific Islands, that Premier John Hall's Government took the opportunity to invade Parihaka, an action bitterly opposed by the Governor.
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The plight of the hapless Cambodians sounds like something from another planet. Then again, when you find yourself so far in hock to the power company that it'll be Xmas before you've paid for the dubious privilege of staying warm(ish) through winter, so does the world inhabited by those who Dine for Dignity.
As this problem has become an annual financial crisis, you might consider moving Freedom Week to a warmer part of the year. Seriously.
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I think it was Spike Milligan who, when asked by a reporter to comment on some vile and pointless issue, asked "Just because there happens to be a cancer in the public breast, do you consider it your duty to nurture it?"
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Anyone got a copy of that card showing a herd of full-blown lammingtons rushing over a cliff?
Ian Dalziel's the man for such things. The artist is Ashley Smith.