Blast from the Past VI - Vote for ME!!!

The follow-up to the last post.

So, just to prove that I'm not just one of those whingers who complains about how the Government does things, but doesn't offer any useful alternatives - here's my platform for when I run for parliament (about the time that Mephistopheles starts skiing to work).
The four day working week.
Sounds good doesn't it. Labour will like it, it'll appeal to the 'common man'. National should be OK with it, it'll reduce unemployment and increase spending.
Here's how it works: Change the PAYE rules ever so slightly so that people working four days a week (32 hours) are taxed at a lower rate than those working five days per week. I'm no mathematician, but it should be easy enough to organize it so that people working four days on the lower tax rate have a take home pay only slightly less than those on the higher, five day rate on the same hourly payrate.
This way the employer is still paying the same hourly rate for the work done. For every four people who changes to a four day week they can hire one new person, that way the same amount of work gets done. Five people working 32 hours adds up to the same number of hours as four people working 40 hours.
So, for every four people switching to the four day week, that's one new job created - at very little expense to the employer. That's one less person on the dole.
The Government's PAYE tax take drops slightly. But this is more than made up for by the people who aren't needing the dole any more. Plus the workforce has an extra leisure day every week, thus more time to spend money, increasing the amount the Government gets from GST.
The days of Saturday and Sunday being the weekend will be over. People's weekends will be the days they aren't working - things have been heading this way for a while. It means that people will have all facilities open on their days off - not the limited services currently available on weekends. Nightlife will be a seven day a week thing, as peoples' weekends are spread over the entire week, this evens out the loads on the pubs and restaurants and cuts down the Friday night queues for the punters.
Everyone's a winner. Who wouldn't vote for me?

Blast from the Past V - The More Things Change...

More from M-W, although, re-reading it now, I could just about have written it yesterday.

So, how about those politicians then?
What's their hourly rate again? Multiply that by 110 and that's how much money they're wasting with their petty bickering and back-biting in the house. These people (to analogise) are the board of directors of our country. Can anyone imagine the BOD of Telecom or Brierleys carrying on like that in a board meeting? No wonder the country seems to be run less like a blue-chip company and more like a cowboy outfit operating out of the back room of a pub.
The main cause of this silliness, as far as I can tell, lies in the adversarial nature of the political system. MMP or no, its still a two party system and generally speaking, when the Government proposes something, the Opposition takes their name too literally and opposes it. Not necessarily because its a bad idea, but because they're the Opposition, its their reason to exist.
I suppose potentially over the next few elections we will see the two main parties fracture to the point where there will be no way to have one ruling bloc of pollies, and the various small parties can vote on issues on a case by case basis, regardless of their position. As far as I'm concerned they should abandon the concept of 'Government vs Opposition' and just have 110 MPs in there, each free to propose legislation and to vote on it in the way that best represents their constituency's wishes. That way ideology based legislation like the employment relations bill being 'debated' at the moment can only go through if the voters agree with it, not just because the party with the majority wants it to go through.
The internet offers the opportunity for MPs to get much more immediate feedback from their voters. If they each had a web site where their constituents could voice their opinions on the various matters currently before the house, they could form a much better idea of what the people they represent actually want. I'm not talking referenda, or making MPs run polls before they vote, after all we did vote them in to make decisions on ourbehalf. But wouldn't it be nice if everyone in NZ who really doesn't give a toss about Dover Samuels' sordid (or not) past could just whisper in their MP's ear "give it a rest, mate" and encourage them to get on with someuseful stuff like actually doing something about the 'Knowledge Economy' or the exchange rate, or petrol prices (don't get me started!).
Next column, I'll probably announce my platform for when I run for parliament, bet you can't wait.

Blast from the Past IV - Life and

This one followed fairly closely after the last, only not so upbeat.

So, it's taken a while for it to really sink in, but I've finally come to the realization that life isn't fair.
I know it sounds obvious, and people say it all the time, but I think everyone gets an epiphany every now and then. Then that little light bulb goes off over your head as you suddenly think "Oh yeah, so this is what they meant. Life really does suck sometimes."
If you read my last column, you might have some inkling as to what put that light bulb up over my head this time. My Father-in-Law was rushed into hospital in critical condition with pneumonia and spent most of a week in Intensive Care fighting for his life. He lost.
On Friday 14 July at about 10pm he died with his family around him.
Sure, people die all the time, but this is the first time someone really close to me has died. But even then, it might not have necessarily driven home that "Life's not fair" message. Except that this was Red. I'll explain, and I'll try not to be too maudlin and depressing about it.
He was one of the nicest guys I have ever met. As far as I'm aware, nobody disliked him, he had a lot of close friends and was a friendly, funny man. Eight years ago he got diagnosed with cancer, the doctors gave him six months to live. But he proved them wrong, he loved doing that - before one operation the doctor told him that he probably wouldn't be able to play golf again, as they were removing a big chunk of one of his shoulder muscles. He told the doctor that the way he played golf it'd probably improve his swing. About a year later he was over the moon when he hit his first hole-in-one.
The really unfair thing is that he had beaten the cancer. He had been clear for two years and had just had a checkup which cleared him again. Then he picks up one stupid little bug, and it kills him. How unfair is that!He was 68, which is old compared to me, but considering that his mother died last year at age 92, he should have had another 20 years in him easily. All we can do is try to think positively, he had eight years longer than he would have if he'd listened to the doctors. In that time he walked his only daughter down the aisle, one of the proudest days of his life; he met his first and only (so far) grandchild; and he took every opportunity to enjoy himself and to help other people out. He was a really nice guy, you couldn't hope to meet a nicer one.
So we miss him, we keep expecting to see him come around a corner, or to speak up and tease us gently, but he's not there. And we keep asking ourselves the same question: "Why?"
And the only answer I can come up with is: "Because life just is not fair."It doesn't always suck, but if it ever looks fair, it's only by accident. It's the only one we get though, so we have to play by its rules. So all of you readers out there (who never email me by the way) make sure you do try to enjoy your lives, and when someone comes along and makes your life a little brighter, make sure you tell them so. Go on, the column's over, go and tell them now.

Blast from the Past III - Nurses Rock

This was a quickie for Media-Wank, for reasons which will become obvious.

So, I haven't had much of a chance to write a column this fortnight. I was casting about for a topic, I didn't really have any idea what I was going to write about. Then, as these things do, something jumped up & bit me on the arse. So the title of the column is "Hey, aren't those Intensive Care nurses great!"
Last Sunday morning my father-in-law had a cold, the doctor said mild bronchitis. Last Sunday afternoon, my father-in-law had rampant, aggressive pneumonia and was pretty much as close to death as he could get. He's been in Intensive Care up at the hospital ever since, I've been spending all my time up there, sleeping on a couch in the waiting room, eating from the vending machines. Basically being there for him while he's unconscious and fighting for his life.
We don't see much of the doctors, they're always busy, people are always needing them. But the nurses assigned to him have been great. They are friendly, professional and just what really worried relatives need at a time like this.
I'm heading back up to the hospital now, I only ducked home to feed the cat.But If there's any nurses out there reading this, I'd just like to say thank you all. And especially all of you up there at the Waikato ICU.

Blast from the Past II - My Inner Woman

Another one from back in 00, this was a column I wrote for the now long-defunct media-wank.co.nz.

So, I thought it was about time to explore my feminine side, to explore my inner woman. Except she tends to ignore me like a lot of women do. So I figured what better way to entice and placate a reluctant woman than the female panacea - chocolate.

I like chocolate as much as the next guy, possibly a bit more - hell its
yummy stuff. And I like to cook, this gives me an added insight into the
pleasures of chocolate (for instance, chocolate chip cookies are yummy,
but before you cook them, they taste even better. That's why the Yanks invented cookie-dough ice cream). So here's my guide to the most guilty of the sins of the flesh, chocaholism.

The first step on the slippery slope to being a chocoholic is not being
allergic to the stuff. Sadly, there are many out there who can't eat
chocolate, their own bodies denying them the pleasure of a quick Kit-Kat in a quiet moment. The easiest way to find out if someone is allergic to chocolate is for them to eat some. Symptoms range from sneezing fits, to
migraines, to blistering of the tongue, to all-out anaphylactic shock. Poor suckers.

Step number two is to like chocolate, some people don't, hard to believe as it is there are some sick puppies who don't eat chocolate for no other reason than they don't want to. Sad cases, although with patience and Moro bars some can be treated and brought back to a normal life.

After that its just a matter of eating the stuff on a regular basis and
before you know it, you'll see a Magnum ad on the telly and find yourself on the way to the all-night petrol station at half past ten on what feels like the coldest night of the year to spend your last few bucks on chocolate ice cream coated in chocolate, dipped in chocolate sauce, then coated in more rich, sweet, creamy, luscious, dark, smooth, where was I? Oh yeah, chocolate. Not that I have any experience of things like that of course.

So to finish off, here's a tip for you aspiring chocoholics out there. The ultimate chocolate rush: A packets of Tim Tams and a big mug of hot chocolate (Milo will do, but hot chocolate is better). Bite off each end of a Tim Tam, seal your lips around one end, suck - feels like a straw doesn't it? Now stick it in the hot chocolate and use it like one. You'll get a mouthful of the hot chocolate, then you'll feel the Tim Tam start to collapse on itself - Quick, stuff it in your mouth. Instant gratification. And don't get me started on Cadbury Chocolate Liqueur!

Well, that extracted my inner woman, now she's about to run to the slot
machine and stuff herself with Peanut Slabs. I keep telling her it'll just go straight to my inner hips, but she doesn't listen, silly cow.

Blast from the Past

So I've been browsing through the wonder that is The Internet Archive, plus the less wonderful dusty depths of my old hard drive, and I've found some of that old writing I was burbling about. I'll chuck some of them up here now.

First up a review I did back in 2000 of a Mike King comedy show.

So I scored some freebie tickets to go & see "Mike King and his laughing monkey boy, Radar" up at the Powerstation the other week. The show was part of the Laugh Festival thing, I was hoping for tickets to the Tokyo Shock Boys, but being an avid Pulp Comedy viewer I figured if I was going to not pay for tickets to a show, I might as well not pay for a New Zealand show, I'm the patriotic type. Thanks to UFM for the giveaway, who says its hard to win stuff off the radio!
It was my first time at the Powerstation, I can see that it would be a pretty good small-medium gig venue. It was a pretty good big comedy gig venue too, except the seats sucked. Not (just) the seats we were in, but the seats in general, they were those yellow plastic, metal-framed, bolted too close together, no legroom, cheap-arse seats. Ideal for primary school assemblies, but not great for grownup butts.
Anyway, Radar started the show off, after a quick intro, and a bit of heckler bashing - he's good at it, but what sort of heckler has a washing machine fetish! - he entertained us with an account of his mind-altered trip vertically across Australia on his way to East Timor. That's right, I said mind-altered, not mind-altering. His mind was altered long before he made it across the Tasman!
Radar is a funny guy, and either he made the whole set up as he went along, or he did a damned good job of acting as if he did. This is a good thing, the set was original and funny, and I don't think the heckler will get some of those images out of his mind for a long time.
As well as being funny by himself, Radar gets an automatic laugh just for being teamed with Mike King. Their styles are almost completely opposite on the comedy spectrum. Radar has the rambling, talespinning style of an Eddie Izzard or a Billy Connelly with his own drug-addled Varsity-boy twist. Mike comes more from the Billy T James end of the spectrum (if you took Billy T & cut him in half you'd have Mike King & Pio Terei: Mike got the wicked sense of NZ culture and Pio got the G rating.), a classic stand-up comedian with a wide repertoire of one-liners and stories. Being as I said an avid Pulp Comedy viewer, Mike King was a little bit of a let-down. He was funny, he was clever, he used a lot of material he had already used on TV. Oh well. He was still worth seeing. After the intermission Mike & Radar came up and performed a big chunk of what I gather was the show they toured last year, only a few bits of which had made it to TV. The second half started well, with some good, funny takes on the history of New Zealand. But it dragged a bit towards the end and the actual end of the show fell kind of flat. I was expecting some sort of big finish, but it just tapered off with a quick song from Mike to send us on our way.
Overall I definitely got my money's worth, considering I only paid the price of a car trip to Auckland (before petrol prices shot up!). I don't think I would have been quite as amused if I had paid the $20 asking price for a ticket as well. If I hadn't seen Mike on the telly the show would have been worth it for sure, although I still reckon they could have tightened up the back end a bit.

Time I got myself a hobby

I don’t do model airplanes.
Collections bore me rigid – philately will get you nowhere.
Home brewing kind of appeals, but no matter how much time & effort (and money) I put into it, I’ll still get better results from 5 minutes and $30 at the local booze barn.
Gardening is a chore, not a hobby – Still, as Calvin says “the secret to enjoying your job is to have a hobby that’s even worse”.
I like to read, I read lots. So maybe I could write something. Sure, I’ll never be as good as the writers I most admire, the ones whose books I can keep going back to and reading over and over again: Neal Stephenson, Terry Pratchett, Iain (M) Banks. It’s a dead cert that I must be able to do better than some of the crap that’s out there.
So I should write. Get in the habit of writing, develop a style, then find something to write about. As I go, I can upload it on my blog for the world to ignore.
This is a start. I’ve said it before, I’ll probably say it again. I should write more. Write down ideas as I think of them. I’ve got my Ipaq, its practically glued to me most of the time. I can start scribbling down a few things in it in spare moments. I can spend half an hour or an hour of an evening typing away. Eventually I’ll probably write something worthwhile, something other people might actually want to read, something I can build on.
This is a start. I’ve started before, I’ve started blogging before. The evidence is there online. But before blueshift, there were others, before blogs were invented, I had a little web page on a little server at my old job at the local Uni. I had a few columns published on a local (kiwi) webzine. I’ll see if I can resurrect some & post them too. Maybe there’s some stuff there I can work from, maybe not. There’s historical significance anyway. Well, maybe not significance, more like nostalgia.
Stay tuned, I might say something brilliant at any moment...