Bad taste biscuits, fake trenches, John Key – by all means call out these low hanging fruit, but really is that all you’ve got? I couldn’t spot many of the 25,000-odd in Cranmer Square this morning who were there for the glorification or entertainment.
Are you replying to someone's specific post? Because given the thoughtful and sometimes highly personal nature of much of what's been shared here, implying that it's little more than a bunch of petty gripes marching in lock-step comes across as a very cheap shot.
Interesting how Peter Jackson and Weta workshops’ version of the War have become the new reality.
Indeed it is. It was the curiously North Korean aesthetic of Richard Taylor’s Rugby World Cup sculpture that first brought into focus for me how Weta had somehow become the arbiters of state-sanctioned capitalist realism. Personally I find the parallels between Weta and North Korea’s Mansudae Art Studio more than a little disturbing.
While Weta seems to enjoy a substantial popular goodwill I’m not aware of their being particularly philanthropic. Around a decade ago the Levin Rotary Club decided to mark their centenary by gifting a bronze statue to the town to commemorate the Chinese market gardeners who’d contributed to the district. Being good public-spirited NZers they naturally thought of Weta Workshop. I understand that the artist who eventually carried out the project did so for a fraction of Weta’s prohitively high take-it-or-leave-it quote.
Where are the tone police when they are needed?
Speaking of which, I felt that this fits well with the refreshingly BS-free tone of Russell Brown's piece. Glen Le Lievre from tomorrow's SMH.
People use the word ‘sacrifice’ a lot to refer to the war dead. The defining feature of true sacrifices, to me, is that they achieve nothing. No one says that though.
Every statistical casualty can be converted to political capital. In declaring himself to be a pacifist on ABC radio a few years back the Australian poet Les Murray explained that it was because he didn't believe in "human sacrifice". To illustrate his point he offered that "Even a crappy old idea like Britannia can start to look pretty good if you pile up enough dead bodies around it".
I’m surprised Aldi didn’t jump on that bandwagon as well.
German veterans could become associate members of the Australian RSL since at least the 1960s, though I imagine that sieg heiling during the silence would have been frowned upon.
Companies attempting to use ANZAC day to raise their own profile had best be very wary – overstepping the mark could result in an ugly backlash.
It’s happened in Oz with Woolworths.
They’ve been nibbling at the boundaries for some time. Twelve years ago there was a BNZ TV ad that played up the bank’s association with rugby. In what I recall as the final scene the camera panned along hallowed sporting relics such as jerseys displayed in glass cases in a clubroom. Just before the cut it stopped briefly on an array of portraits of what were presumably past sporting greats in military uniform. The implied connection was close to subliminal but, knowing something of how every frame counts in a 30 second TV spot, it couldn’t have been anything other than deliberately intended.
tiny house design
Ye've only to believe in the little people.
Sure he’s weird but that’s a distraction.
Weird is how the Guardian's spinning it, but I'd say the overwhelming impression is creepy.
DPF’s mitigating response
Thanks to the interwebs, even the follicly challenged can tug a virtual forelock.
John Key is an adolescent, with a fetish
Is there a known cure? I remember a video made to demonstrate a form of therapy for anti-social compulsive behavior in children. The subject was a young girl who, among other things, was a chronic hair puller.
The first scene showed her having a story read to her by a guy with the kind of quiff that Dick Driver once sported on Radio With Pictures. The girl could be seen eyeing up the guy's hair while appearing to pay little attention to the story. Before long she'd grabbed the quiff and given it a hearty and utterly shameless tug.
The process was repeated with a female, whose story reading skills failed to save her. Finally the girl was shown having a story read to her by an older man. While she didn't appear to be too taken with his reading there was no hair pulling.
The only problem, and one would have to have been such a party pooper to point it out, was that the last story reader was completely bald.