I think Maori have a great advantage with always having a ‘home’ on one or several marae.
For sure. The gift of making a bicultural TV show show is that I've had access to a deeper understanding of the Maori experience and way of thinking, and that common concept of a place to go home to is certainly part of it.
But the other thing this makes me think of is the interviews I've been doing for a story about K Road. The concept of people leaving – to have relationships and babies and jobs and live in the suburbs – and coming back again, even years later, has come up a couple of times. It will find its way into the story, for sure.
But thank you for talking about it and your brave ideas for a forum to listen and be heard.
Thank you for coming here and sharing this with us. I know it can't be easy.
Iyad El-Baghdadi tweeted about how the "cut off the funding" thing doesn't apply so much any more. Isis is largely self-funding – and two thirds of its money comes from extortion.
And this place is a home.
Thanks Chip. Genuinely touched.
We wonder who the new neighbours will be, we’ve had pot growers with mastiffs, who were sweetie pies once they knew we carried tux biscuits (the dogs, but come to think of it it may have worked on the owners too) A toothless, paranoid, amphetamine taking truck driver, a professional jazz drummer and the worst, a misanthropic curmudgeon from an old settler family. We think we will most likely get a young family as the schools are quite flash around here, possibly poms (Britirangi) but we dread the rental investment; “secluded with ample garaging”, shouts clanlab to me.
Ah, neighbours. We’re in a cul de sac with half a dozen Housing NZ properties in it. That has meant some interesting times – for a while HNZ sent us some really difficult tenants, including Chris, who was schizophrenic and should not have been living alone. He was exploited by his “friends” who would come around and party up (lighting fires!) on the driveway.
But the heroin homebaker next to him was actually a reasonably good neighbour and he looked out for the old folks. I wrote a letter for him when he got busted (that was a surreal morning – I opened the front door to see the street crowded with a hazmat truck and multiple cop cars, all with their lights going) and helped his sister go through the place after he sadly came out of hospital two days earlier than we expected, baked up and ODd on his kitchen floor.
There has been a bit of drug excitement over the years. The people who ran Feel, the E-friendly speakeasy got raided (cops in front door, helicopter with searchlight hovering over the back). The duplex on the corner was a tinny house for a while (idiot young customers doing donuts at the bottom of the cul de sac). There was the couple who lost the plot on P (became rather wearying to to talk to, especially after they fell out). Steve, who moved into the former tinny house flat, wasn’t so funny – he was fresh out of jail, mentally ill and on the P and he kept bringing stray youths home.
Nowadays, we have two elderly Chinese couples, Old Dave, and Shannon, who’s in a motorised wheelchair, in the Housing NZ properties and they’re all cool. Next door to us is a young couple who’ve had two babies since they arrived and are lovely people – he has a commercial electrical business, which allowed them to spend a shitload of money fixing up the place. Young Dave lives next to Old Dave and restores classic Toyotas.
It’s not a bad street to live in, all in all.
bFM was my first “home” even if my body rested in a boarding house in Balmoral.
Yeah, I totally get that. It's the place where people like us live.
PA folk who feel the same may also wish to chip in a little to this week's Bombathon pledge drive.
Hard to get through all the analysis but so far it looks like the obvious military response would be exactly the wrong one. ISIS want a showdown.
Instead of victory or death – it seems like many of them want to die in a holy war.
Yes. Although it does seem that not everyone who joins them realises they're buying into that.
Home follows me around.
It will always be my parents’ place in Mangere, bought in the 80s when it was ramshackle and barely a house at all, before expanding like an accordion and becoming the place where 4, 5, 6, and 7 people lived (and sometimes more). It stays, the family changes shape.
That's one thing I don't have: the house where I grew up. I could always go and visit the houses, but that's not quite the same thing. I do feel good about the stability we've provided for our autistic boys, who would have struggled with change.
But it's going to be hard to avoid the temptation to cash up and move somewhere cheaper when Fiona and I reach 60. Through nothing but dumb luck and timing, there is a lot of money locked up in this place.
The Guardian editorial:
And yet even if Isis did mean this night of slaughter to be a declaration of war, that does not mean France – or the rest of the world – needs to return the compliment. And a compliment it would be. To declare war against Isis is to flatter it, to grant it the dignity it craves. It accords it the status of a state, which Isis claims for itself but does not deserve. It confronts that murderous organisation on terms of its choosing rather than ours.
What’s more, rhetoric of that hue has a recent and unhappy history. In 2001, George W Bush similarly hailed 9/11 as a declaration of war. But the rubric of war, with its implied permission for the most extreme measures, saw the US and its allies make several disastrous decisions. Their impact is felt even now, nearly 15 years later. That category surely includes the forced collapse of Iraq and the subsequent incubation of Isis itself.
ETA: I have checked with the francophones I know, and they also say it is “They did not know that war had been declared on them”. An example of the risks, but also the poetry, of Google translate, because the incorrect translation seems to me at least as meaningful as the actual translation.
Thanks Lucy! I had added that image to the original post, so I've amended the translation there accordingly.