You may have read a comment by me on this very blog about not caring what happens to NZ now, "meant it, stand by it" (Scott Heron 1983). But, when the ape-like mutations who inherit this smoking crater of mine tailings are searching through the rubble maybe they will wonder "How did we get here, this is not my beautiful car" and then "Phwoar he's gotta big wanger, we should make him our leader." Then they will need more white middle class male rambling, there is always room for more.
We have had some major revelations in New Zild political circles. The first, and some might say, most alarming is that there are poor people in this sceptred isle. That's right! Actual poor folks, doing actual poverty and not living in leafy suburbs. This appears to have caught the politicals off guard and some sand has crept into the well-oiled spin gears.
Among reports of people living in cars and having a generally miserable time in Auckland, the Minister of Social Development dispatched a "flying squad" of crack (with an 'r') bureaucrats to go around the cars offering help to people in cars. This was in conjunction with the Salvation army who do this week in, week out.
Except, of course, it didn't happen. The Sallies said that no one had come around with them and they don't go an knock on car windows, anyway.
The Prime Minister had, in an event that can only be described as a
All of this occurred against the backdrop of a crisis, "What crisis?" in housing. People who may or may not be white, middle class New Zilders, are finding it difficult, if not actually hard, to find that Mi Casa we were all brought up to believe was your actual Nirvana. Without the drugs and shotgun suicide, although, maybe not. This has occasioned some smart thinking from the aforementioned Minister of Soc. Del. who said "Give the poors $5K each to get out of Auckland".
This cheerful bribery to make Auckland housing numbers look better has only been over-shadowed by the frozen grin of terror on the face of the Minister for Finances as he heard the news for the first time and visions of empty biscuit tins in the tea-room fluttered across his mind. Apparently the MSD said that it was money just lying around and wasn't going to come out of her budget so stop hassling her, man.
The third prong in the multi-pronged attack on the NOT AN ACTUAL crisis has been the housing Minister Nick Smith who is an amiable prong of a chap, the sort that gets paraded around at family Christmas reunions as a warning about the dangers of too many concussions in rugby matches. Smith has taken to driving around the countryside having press conferences in random fields which he claims the Government owns and has "lined up for housing". Predictably, he has gone to the wrong paddock on two occasions and the "lined up for housing" has turned out to be Kevin from Accounts saying that he thought that his grandparents lived near here.
I am beginning to have doubts about the competence of this government and wonder if it shrank itself down to a small enough size for a drowning 1) could it find the bathroom and 2)would it remember to put the plug in? Possibly it would be living in a car telling MSD people to fuck off.
"But" you are saying "surely the tumbrels are rolling and the scaffolds are being constructed of properly tested materials to throw down these incompetent charlatans?" That would be where you are wrong as most Kiwis think that a charlatan is a type of French dessert in a funny shaped glass which their aunt used to like. On the contrary the PM is more popular than alcoholic chocolate drinks and the newspapers, talkback radio and comments sections of lesser quality blogs than this one are full of people castigating the poor because reasons that everyone knows.
And so it continues...