Friday, January 29, 2010
Next time you're in Wellsford
Next time you're driving through Wellsford to get somewhere interesting - stop for a minute to throw a brick through the window of the Home and Garden store.
Better still, just shoot the owner in his fucking face.
Better still, just shoot the owner in his fucking face.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Man Assaults Beaver
Friday, January 22, 2010
Publishing SAS photographs
The first reaction of desk jockeys like Herald assistant editor John Roughan and Dominion Post editor Bernadette Courtney to government criticism of their decision to publish photographs of SAS members in Afghanistan is: "But how can mere photos place them in any more danger than they are already?"
The answer is in the long hair and beards, rather than the standard issue short back 'n sides, with optional moustache.
Special forces soldiers often grow their hair out in combat zones like this so that when they are engaged in covert op's (i.e., not in uniform) they don't look so much like soldiers and can blend in better.
Apiata without the uniform could almost pass for Taliban and therefore infiltrate easier. (Equally, he could pass as that guy from "300").
Now that his photo has been widely publicized, including on the web, his ability to blend in is compromised, and thus so is his safety and that of the NZ mission.
The answer is in the long hair and beards, rather than the standard issue short back 'n sides, with optional moustache.
Special forces soldiers often grow their hair out in combat zones like this so that when they are engaged in covert op's (i.e., not in uniform) they don't look so much like soldiers and can blend in better.
Apiata without the uniform could almost pass for Taliban and therefore infiltrate easier. (Equally, he could pass as that guy from "300").
Now that his photo has been widely publicized, including on the web, his ability to blend in is compromised, and thus so is his safety and that of the NZ mission.
Labels: 300, I wouldn't mess with that muthafucka, media, SAS
Thursday, January 21, 2010
From Bobert's Cairo Dictionary
From my current days on the streets of Cairo I offer the novice traveler the following vocabulary:
Tout: a person who solicits business, employment, support, or the like, importunately
Importunately: urgent or persistent solicitation, sometimes annoyingly so.
If it is possible to make it down a city a block without running into a tout acting importunately, then I'm all ears.
Tout: a person who solicits business, employment, support, or the like, importunately
Importunately: urgent or persistent solicitation, sometimes annoyingly so.
If it is possible to make it down a city a block without running into a tout acting importunately, then I'm all ears.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Media sycophancy knows no bounds
The fine tradition of New Zealand's sniffing at the royal pantaloons continues, I see. Led by the media, which blushes at the merest glance from William Wales Windsor or whatever his name his, before reaching for yet another handful of superlatives from the nearest thesaurus.
Other than wearing a woolen cardigan at a BBQ, and being hit in the bollocks by a rugby ball, he's basically just walked around and chatted amiably to people who want to talk to him. Hardly rocket science. Hardly a meaningful contribution to governance of the nation. And due in no way to any achievements on his part, but rather to the pure chance of being born an heir of Betty Windsor - English aristocrat and lifelong state beneficiary.
The Herald waxed lyrical about his crowd-pulling power at the opening of the Supreme Court. An example of "the royal magic", putting paid to "any suggestions the royal family had lost their allure," it gushed, meaninglessly.
The same article went on to note that just 3-4000 were in attendance. That'd be about 2% of the 180,000 residents of Wellington City, or at best 1% of the 400,000 residents of the Wellington Region. Stunning. Moreover, as the story also acknowledges, a substantial proportion of said thronging mass was made up of PSA members, and Republicans, there to protest. Yet we're led to believe the nation practically stood still.
Today, the Herald looks back wistfully on a visit from the "good guy" who - it is noted with approval - continually upstaged the Prime Minister. You know, the guy with a democratic mandate to actually lead the country, someone who is actually a New Zealander and makes decisions that actually affect New Zealanders, for better or worse. And he even lives here now.
If you want to know what's fundamentally wrong with Royalty, here's your answer - Key was apparently happy to be reduced to a lowly presence, and in the best National Party tradition enjoyed some good bowing and scraping in front of an aristocrat:
Fuck that makes me sick. Be a man, John!
Thankfully, the Herald's front-page BS was counter-balanced by a suitably ascerbic contribution from Brian Rudman, who said what needed to be said:
Other than wearing a woolen cardigan at a BBQ, and being hit in the bollocks by a rugby ball, he's basically just walked around and chatted amiably to people who want to talk to him. Hardly rocket science. Hardly a meaningful contribution to governance of the nation. And due in no way to any achievements on his part, but rather to the pure chance of being born an heir of Betty Windsor - English aristocrat and lifelong state beneficiary.
The Herald waxed lyrical about his crowd-pulling power at the opening of the Supreme Court. An example of "the royal magic", putting paid to "any suggestions the royal family had lost their allure," it gushed, meaninglessly.
The same article went on to note that just 3-4000 were in attendance. That'd be about 2% of the 180,000 residents of Wellington City, or at best 1% of the 400,000 residents of the Wellington Region. Stunning. Moreover, as the story also acknowledges, a substantial proportion of said thronging mass was made up of PSA members, and Republicans, there to protest. Yet we're led to believe the nation practically stood still.
Today, the Herald looks back wistfully on a visit from the "good guy" who - it is noted with approval - continually upstaged the Prime Minister. You know, the guy with a democratic mandate to actually lead the country, someone who is actually a New Zealander and makes decisions that actually affect New Zealanders, for better or worse. And he even lives here now.
If you want to know what's fundamentally wrong with Royalty, here's your answer - Key was apparently happy to be reduced to a lowly presence, and in the best National Party tradition enjoyed some good bowing and scraping in front of an aristocrat:
While Prince William has been the headline act, for Mr Key the prince's visit has meant two days of playing second fiddle.
He was barely noticed by many and had to put up with photographers and the public calling to him to move aside to give them a clear view of the Prince.
He took such treatment in good humour, saying he had no problems with such lowly status while in the presence of royalty.
Fuck that makes me sick. Be a man, John!
Thankfully, the Herald's front-page BS was counter-balanced by a suitably ascerbic contribution from Brian Rudman, who said what needed to be said:
...to see the Governor-General, the Prime Minister and the All Black captain go all giggly over the weekend in the presence of a 27-year-old trainee helicopter pilot because he happens to be the first-born male child of the Queen's first-born male child, was rather demeaning for all involved - including those of us watching the 6pm news.
Labels: betty windsor, lickspittle herald watch, republic, william wales windsor
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
NO NO
BBQ'ing in a collar is an automatic disqualification. And wearing a woolen cardigan is just plain dangerous. Try that in West Auckland you're gone!
Labels: BBQ rules
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Outing the outer
For anyone who has ever wondered where South Park gets its ideas for its brilliantly stereotypical characters from.
I give you:
...
...
I give you:
...
...
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Nation to McCully: get fucked
$100m of public money to spruce up an old fucking wharf that smells of fish guts and seagull shit? No thanks.
New Zealanders are more than capable of creating their own "parties central" in homes, pubs, and so on, in order to watch such heavily hyped match-ups along the lines of Namibia vs Tonga and Georgia vs Wales and the inevitable France vs Australia final.
New Zealanders are more than capable of creating their own "parties central" in homes, pubs, and so on, in order to watch such heavily hyped match-ups along the lines of Namibia vs Tonga and Georgia vs Wales and the inevitable France vs Australia final.
Labels: party central
