Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Compliant media trots it out
Yes, you saw it here second: "Shoppers remain cautious as Christmas approaches" bleats the DomPost.
As we have noted in the past, this will inevitably be followed up with: "NZ retailers relieved by last-minute spending spree."
The same thing they say every year, Pinky.
As we have noted in the past, this will inevitably be followed up with: "NZ retailers relieved by last-minute spending spree."
The same thing they say every year, Pinky.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Darth Watch: The horse has bolted!
Darth's latest offering returns to one of his favourite topics: DOOM! Or is that: GLOOM! Or is that: THE END IS NIGH!
If it's not the bloody Labour Party and political correctness bringing this country to its knees, it's ... [insert dramatic drum roll here to indicate suspense] ... DRUGS!
Well, the illegal ones, anyway.
Opines Darth:
Darth, "the coke" and "the horse" do not flow freely in New Zealand, by any stretch of the imagination. In that they are both relatively scarce and bloody expensive. Also, no one has called heroin "horse" since you were a pup reporter on the crime beat.
Darth excludes his favoured substance (tobacco) from the list of "murderous" substances because, umm, well, it's umm legal and umm therefore not immoral or umm something.
Nevermind that rational analysis of drug harm by people who actually know their shit (Nutt et al. in the Lancet (2007)) leads alcohol and tobacco to be ranked (considerably) more highly than many illegal recreational drugs, including cannabis (well d'uh), LSD, GHB and Ecstasy. And FYI, George, amphetamine ranks below alcohol but above tobacco in terms of harm.
Nevermind, George is earning his keep this week via a blunderbuss approach to, err, listing social problems.
If the problem is drugs one paragraph, it's violence against children the next, investor rip-offs after that, and race relations (courtesy of a well-known half-brown motherfucker) bringing up the rear.
At which point Garth actually makes an interesting and likely valid point: " his [Harawira's] latest outburst reveals is that there is among many Maori an abiding and malevolent antipathy towards Pakeha, which is far more widespread than we're prepared to acknowledge" - the counterpoint of which is "a corresponding bitter antagonism to Maori on the part of many Pakeha."
But just when you think Ole Smokey might be on to something, he finds he has nothing more to say, and pads out his remaining space with 127 - yes, count 'em, 127 - consecutive words taken verbatim from the King James Bible he always has to hand.
I hope Isaiah is being handsomely reimbursed for such extensive - and entirely irrelevant - borrowing. There's nothing like a trite Bible phrase or two to complete one's weekly literary offering to the nation, followed by a pithy summary from the moustachioed one himself: "Fat chance, but the offer is still open."
True to form!
On a brighter note, doesn't Santa look awesome!?! Nothing like the 75-year-old alcoholic he previously resembled - he's now bright of eye, clear of skin, and confident of beard.
If it's not the bloody Labour Party and political correctness bringing this country to its knees, it's ... [insert dramatic drum roll here to indicate suspense] ... DRUGS!
Well, the illegal ones, anyway.
Opines Darth:
Sure, the police and Customs do their damnedest to stem the flow of illegal substances into this country, but they're obviously fighting a losing battle, and the pot and the P and the coke and the horse still flow like a river.
Darth, "the coke" and "the horse" do not flow freely in New Zealand, by any stretch of the imagination. In that they are both relatively scarce and bloody expensive. Also, no one has called heroin "horse" since you were a pup reporter on the crime beat.
Darth excludes his favoured substance (tobacco) from the list of "murderous" substances because, umm, well, it's umm legal and umm therefore not immoral or umm something.
Nevermind that rational analysis of drug harm by people who actually know their shit (Nutt et al. in the Lancet (2007)) leads alcohol and tobacco to be ranked (considerably) more highly than many illegal recreational drugs, including cannabis (well d'uh), LSD, GHB and Ecstasy. And FYI, George, amphetamine ranks below alcohol but above tobacco in terms of harm.
Nevermind, George is earning his keep this week via a blunderbuss approach to, err, listing social problems.
If the problem is drugs one paragraph, it's violence against children the next, investor rip-offs after that, and race relations (courtesy of a well-known half-brown motherfucker) bringing up the rear.
At which point Garth actually makes an interesting and likely valid point: " his [Harawira's] latest outburst reveals is that there is among many Maori an abiding and malevolent antipathy towards Pakeha, which is far more widespread than we're prepared to acknowledge" - the counterpoint of which is "a corresponding bitter antagonism to Maori on the part of many Pakeha."
But just when you think Ole Smokey might be on to something, he finds he has nothing more to say, and pads out his remaining space with 127 - yes, count 'em, 127 - consecutive words taken verbatim from the King James Bible he always has to hand.
I hope Isaiah is being handsomely reimbursed for such extensive - and entirely irrelevant - borrowing. There's nothing like a trite Bible phrase or two to complete one's weekly literary offering to the nation, followed by a pithy summary from the moustachioed one himself: "Fat chance, but the offer is still open."
True to form!
On a brighter note, doesn't Santa look awesome!?! Nothing like the 75-year-old alcoholic he previously resembled - he's now bright of eye, clear of skin, and confident of beard.
Labels: alcohol, darth george, drugs, Santa, smoking
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Santa, the War on Terror's Latest Victim
Merry Christmas to all!
Last night I took part in a very traditional Canadian Christmas-eve. Some food, some cheer, a tree lit up, the whole show.
And of course we had the radio on playing Christmas Carroll after Christmas Carroll. And of course between songs were the NORAD (North American Radar Air Defense) reports that tracked Santa's progress.
I remember this fondly, as a child of the cold war. NORAD, which was built to defend us helpless saps against the Soviet threat and is now maintained to make sure that China doesn't step out of line, would soften the hearts of every youngster by letting them know that Santa was in national airspace, and by letting them know that NORAD actually does something.
It was cute when I was seven. Knowing that our top military infrastructure could pick up Rudolph's nose. Back in the day, NORAD central command would say, "We have confirmed Santa's presence...Merry Christmas to all." I
t was just enough to encourage us little people to tuck in under the covers nice and early.
But last night the message changed, somewhat. "We have confirmed Santa's presence, and we have scrambled CF-18 fighter planes to escort the sleigh...to make sure that he's safe."
Safe from what?
The Grinch?
Is it not enough that we're inundated every other day of the year with bogus military and media reports about how our forces are doing wonders to keep us safe? I mean, do they really have to protect Santa Clause from terrorism too?
This is too much, and what really scared me was how natural the radio relayed the report. There was no stutter, no giggle, no condescending voice that comes when you speak with children.
No no, NORAD central command and the radio station seamlessly told the story of Canadian fighter jets protecting the jolly elf. They told it with the same vigour and professionalism as they tell us that Iran is nuclear capable, progress exists in Iraq, and that Afghans actually admire NATO forces.
For a while now I haven't believed in the story of Santa, even though that the message is a good one. Knowing now that our military believes in Santa or Pierre Noel (or whatever the local handle is) just as much as they believe in Al Qaeda or the Taliban (or whatever the local handle is), no longer gives me comfort. It gives me panic.
Because while we tend to outgrow, and then help become a part of, the Santa myth, I think that very few us outgrow the military myth, and by doing so we'll always stay a part of it.
Last night I took part in a very traditional Canadian Christmas-eve. Some food, some cheer, a tree lit up, the whole show.
And of course we had the radio on playing Christmas Carroll after Christmas Carroll. And of course between songs were the NORAD (North American Radar Air Defense) reports that tracked Santa's progress.
I remember this fondly, as a child of the cold war. NORAD, which was built to defend us helpless saps against the Soviet threat and is now maintained to make sure that China doesn't step out of line, would soften the hearts of every youngster by letting them know that Santa was in national airspace, and by letting them know that NORAD actually does something.
It was cute when I was seven. Knowing that our top military infrastructure could pick up Rudolph's nose. Back in the day, NORAD central command would say, "We have confirmed Santa's presence...Merry Christmas to all." I
t was just enough to encourage us little people to tuck in under the covers nice and early.
But last night the message changed, somewhat. "We have confirmed Santa's presence, and we have scrambled CF-18 fighter planes to escort the sleigh...to make sure that he's safe."
Safe from what?
The Grinch?
Is it not enough that we're inundated every other day of the year with bogus military and media reports about how our forces are doing wonders to keep us safe? I mean, do they really have to protect Santa Clause from terrorism too?
This is too much, and what really scared me was how natural the radio relayed the report. There was no stutter, no giggle, no condescending voice that comes when you speak with children.
No no, NORAD central command and the radio station seamlessly told the story of Canadian fighter jets protecting the jolly elf. They told it with the same vigour and professionalism as they tell us that Iran is nuclear capable, progress exists in Iraq, and that Afghans actually admire NATO forces.
For a while now I haven't believed in the story of Santa, even though that the message is a good one. Knowing now that our military believes in Santa or Pierre Noel (or whatever the local handle is) just as much as they believe in Al Qaeda or the Taliban (or whatever the local handle is), no longer gives me comfort. It gives me panic.
Because while we tend to outgrow, and then help become a part of, the Santa myth, I think that very few us outgrow the military myth, and by doing so we'll always stay a part of it.
Labels: Al Qaeda, Christmas, NORAD, Santa, Taliban, War on Terror
