Cracker by Damian Christie

Russell’s right about the awards you know.

There’s nothing worse than an ungracious winner, or at least ungracious people who voted for the winner. The election campaign might get heated, with personal attacks left, right and centre-right but after that I thought we’re supposed to move on. Sure, most of the people at the NZ Music Awards probably voted Labour, but unless it’s the Dean Martin Celebrity Roast, it’s just not manners to invite someone to a party and then slag them off in front of everyone.

I’d never heard of Outrageous Fortune actor Anthony Starr before, but his award presentation was a pretty convincing argument for the theory that actors are a bunch of wankers. I’m not sure if he was drunk, pretending to act coked-up or had just seen too many Christian Slater movies, but his ill-conceived rant about Don Brash coming second fell flatter than the Christchurch CBD. Someone in the audience heckled “you were a cock back at school too”, and I can only assume they were right.

Unlike Russell, I didn’t meet Ahmed Zaoui, but the Member for Auckland Central was kind enough to introduce me to her boss, which was nice. I’d just been talking to my mate’s girlfriend, who is over from England for a couple of weeks, about how easy it is to talk to the Prime Minister in this country. Five minutes later we both had. I wonder how that plays back home? “Oh yeah, went to the Music Awards, had a few drinks, talked to the PM, you know, the usual...”

It’s not something I imagine you could say of too many other countries in the world, and I think we’re probably a better place for it. I never understood that guy who holed himself up in the Tauranga hotel, threatening to blow the place up unless he spoke with the Prime Minister. Just call her, bro.

Now if he was holed up in a hotel room demanding they stop delivering the Central Leader, that I could understand.

And so could many of you, as it turns out. The unprecedented flurry of responses proved junk mail is now up there with death and taxes as something that really pisses you off. Suggestions were many and varied – most of the sensible ones involved me putting more specific signage on my letterbox, but just as many people wrote to tell me that doesn’t work either. Oliver’s suggestion was far more direct…

“Just write ‘Central Leader – FUCK OFF’ on your letterbox. Happy to help.”

…while the lovely Sara J was more concerned at the revelation that I put the unread paper in the (shock horror) wheelie bin. Well, what else am I going to use to wrap up the dolphin leftovers?

To his credit, a nice chap from Suburban Newspapers emailed and put me in touch with his circulation manager Phil, who has again taken my name and put it on a list somewhere. I’ll let you know if it works, and in the meantime if anyone wants to do the same, email .

Yes, I know posting email addresses tends to attract spambots, but a few hundred offers of penile enhancements sounds like poetic justice in this instance.

Looking for new and varied ways to waste time, can anyone recommend any podcasts worth listening to? There's a lot of rubbish out there, so if anyone's stumbled on to something decent, please flick me a line.

And finally, as it’s a Friday, may I suggest taking up a new hobby this weekend?

What with petrol prices being what they are and the threat of peak oil looming, I thought it time I did the sensible thing and bought a better car.

Behold the beauty of my new (old) 1965 Holden Special:

While it's only a baby in Holden terms, with a mere 149ci (2.4l) straight six engine, it's the biggest car I've owned by a long shot. I've never had a Holden, or a Ford or a Chrysler before, so it's quite a big moment for me. It has bench seats, lap-belts in the front and none at all in the back, and a 2-stage 'powerglide' automatic transmission.

Best of all, it only runs on super expensive 98 octane fuel.

Yeah, I know it's not the smartest thing I've ever done, but surely the quicker we use up all this pesky fossil fuel, the quicker we can get onto something cleaner and greener?

Like a vegan with a leather fetish, it probably says strange things about my environmental priorities that my biggest hang-up at the moment is the unnecessary waste being visited on my letterbox.

Sick of carting all the junk mail from the letterbox straight to the wheelie bin, I decided to treat myself, and indirectly the environment, by buying a No Circulars sign.

For the first few days it worked fine. Then one evening I returned home to find the Central Leader in my mailbox. A few days later it was The Aucklander. Annoyed at having to make a special trip from the mailbox to the bin for these two unwanted items, I decided to get to the bottom of it. I called the Central Leader.

"Hi, I was wondering how not to get the Central Leader."

"I'm sorry?"

"The Central Leader. I don't want to get it. I bought a 'No Circulars' sign because I was sick of all the junk mail."

"Well you see it's not junk mail. It's a newspaper."

"Yes, but it's a newspaper I don't want, which makes it junk mail, surely?"

"Yes, but your perception doesn't change the nature of the object you're perceiving..."

At this point the Central Leader receptionist and I branched off into a fifteen minute heated discourse on the nature of knowledge i.e. epistemological philosophy. While an interesting discussion, we eventually realised we were arguing at cross purposes. She was an empiricist and I'm a rationalist, and neither of us was sufficiently convinced by Immanuel Kant's Peter Dunne-esque attempts to occupy the safe middle ground. But I digress…

"Okay, so how can I not get the paper delivered then?"

"Oh sure, I've got a list I can put you on."

"Oh great, let's do that then."

And of course it did absolutely no good at all. The second and third phone calls did nothing either, other than waste more of my time. As it turns out, the list is just a list of people who don't want to receive the Central Leader. It actually has nothing to do with the distribution of the paper whatsoever.

I know what so many of you are probably thinking. "Who cares, it's only a paper. Build a bridge and get over it. People are starving in Africa." Yeah, well if I was them I'd be blogging about that, wouldn't I…

Saturday 20 April 2005

Me so hungry. Some food'd be good.

Monday 22 April 2005

Still hungry. Sick of all these flies landing on my face and stuff.

…and so forth. Right now, I'm trying to stop getting a newspaper I don't want delivered. Changing the world one piece of junk mail at a time.

Does anyone else have this problem? I'm trying to work out what to do. Can I invoice the Central Leader a small fee for recycling their rubbish? Would they pay? Should they be providing free "No Central Leader" stickers for people? Does anyone want to join me in a class action? Anyone? If a tree falls and no-one reads the crap it was used for, did it ever exist? What Would Kant Do?

Right now I'm leaning towards shredding the fucking thing, loading it into a vacuum cleaner, putting it on reverse, and spraying a carton load around the Central Leader office. Going postal, confetti style.

Comments, theories, suggestions etc by hitting the Reply button below.

In case anyone reading this works at the Central Leader, please don't be offended. I'm sure there's some quality reading. But I barely have time to read the newspapers and magazines I choose/pay to have delivered. And given the choice between Jane Clifton's politics columns and "Local Girl Slips at Swimming Pool", I know where my priorities lie.

I went to the APRA Silver Scroll Awards the other night.

The lamb was great, in case you're wondering, but I couldn't help but wonder about how much money the event cost compared with the average income of the kiwi musician. With the wine flowing, I suspect I drank the entire royalties cheque for Gramsci's new album, while my table put a big dent in what Shapeshifter will be seeing next financial year. Sorry guys.

As one might expect come election time, the Labour party was heavily represented (Helen Clark, Margaret Wilson, Judith Tizard and Mark Gosche) while National opted for Georgina Te Heu Heu. But then it's not a competition, right? Right?

Helen Clark did her usual ramble about how fantastic the last few years have been for New Zealand music.

Having been to any number of functions where Her Excellency has spoken, these speeches all take much the same form, usually a long list of anyone who's done anything significant in the past few years. In fact, if only she could rap, Helen's addresses would sound almost indistinguishable from most of Scribe's name-check heavy songs.

While Clark spoke of voluntary radio quotas and sales successes, I spied a few musicians sneaking off outside. It dawned on me there's one thing Labour could do next term that would benefit a great number of New Zealand musicians.

Legalise it.

I'm not much of a smoker myself, but I've been in enough bands and befriended enough musicians to realise that da mighty 'erb plays a large part in many of their lives. More inspiration than motivation of course; granted it could explain the extraordinary delays in certain Wellington acts releasing their debut album, but it bears consideration.

Why criminalise [in my estimation, at least] half our musos on a daily basis? If Labour is as supportive of the export music industry as it suggests, why support a law that has seen the door to more than one band's overseas travel slammed shut?

I said (or rather slurred) as much to the MP for Auckland Central, but perhaps not surprisingly she was rather non-committal. But with the possibility that Labour and the Greens could form a coalition sans United Future, is decriminalisation (if not legalisation) a likelihood in the next term?

I suspect one of the sticking points might be the continued involvement of Mr Progressive, Jim Anderton. For some reason it appears Labour will stay in bed with Jim even if they don't need to, which is a little odd, although I guess it's a low-cost insurance policy.

The question is, will his rather personal crusade against recreational drugs (nitrous, party pills), teenage drinking and so forth have any real impact on what a Labour government does with regard to marijuana law reform? Is it a bottom line, or just a hobby horse? And with only one seat to offer, is there such a thing as a bottom line for the Jim Anderton Progressive Party?

That's me until after the elections. Merry voting everyone, whichever box you tick.

Elections only come around every five years or thereabouts, and this is your one chance to mingle with all the neighbourhood hotties who would never give you the time of day. By following this simple plan, no matter who comes to power on September 17th, you can still wake up on Sunday morning with a smile on your face.

Choose your polling booth very, very carefully.

Some polling booths are within hobbling distance of Retirement Villages. Others are within skipping distance of University hostels. Do I need to draw you a graph?

Vote outside your electorate.

Just like Alamein Kopu all those years ago, Election 2005 could be your ticket out of the boondocks. So you live in deepest Mt Roskill? You don’t need to vote there. Jump on the 258 bus to Symonds Street, then the 625 to Remuera Road. All the time humming “Uptown Girl”, saunter in to the nearest primary school or community hall. Lock aim on a tidy young Trustafarian and unleash all your working class charm. Good lines include:

“Vote here often?”

“Wow. I wish the girls in my electorate were as hot as you.”*

“I’ve got tickets to Rodney’s party tonight if you’re not busy…”*

“Would you mind doing my exit poll? It won’t take long…”

Nothing too grubby though. Any offers to stuff someone's ballot box should be considered beyond the pale.

Vote Early

Well don’t vote too early. In 1999, in my wild and crazy youth, I went straight from Calibre [a nightclub of some repute] on Karangahape Road to the polling booth. High on more than the fact I was about to do my democratic duty, I recall little other than voting for the candidate I really, really loved before locking the nearest scrutineer in a prolonged bearhug.

That aside, the earlier you hit the polling trail, the wider variety of candidates you'll encounter – and I'm not talking about politicians.

From the early morning fitness freaks who pop in mid-jog, the brunching socialites on their way to an eggs benny, some of the best opportunities will present themselves before lunchtime. The later you wait, the more likely you'll encounter Last-Minute Lindas, Tardy Tonys and Progressive Party voters. They've always been a bit slow off the mark.

Vote Often

Of course you can't literally vote often, but don't let that stop you cruising the various polling booths. Epsom Community Centre a bit flat? Then head over to Remuera Kindergarten. Need an excuse to be there? For less than $2, a notepad and a pen turns anyone into a windswept and interesting roving reporter. Or at least some poor schmo from the Central Leader, it all depends how you carry it off.

Don't talk politics

Whoever you're talking to obviously cares enough about politics to drag themselves out of bed and along to some depressing community hall smelling of grey power and sweaty boy scouts. And unless they're wearing a rosette (NB stay away from anyone wearing a rosette, they are by definition completely and utterly mad), you won't know which way they voted. And for Gods sake, if they ask you, don't reply "I'm not even registered love, I'm just here to pick up hotties." It took me two non-molestation orders to work that one out.

So that's it. Good luck. And remember to Have Your Way on Election Day.

*Thanks to Timmy G for the extra pick-up lines

Crikey. When I arksed for a calculator, I was just expecting some little solar-powered thingamy. Punch in the numbers, push the button and bingo. But no. This is some scientific shit. The Casio FX82-B with the fliptop lid that breaks halfway through your School C maths year ain't got nuttin' on this one.

Now I'm no campaign manager – although there are plenty around if that's what you're looking for – but is it ever a good idea to tell people they're better off voting for the opposition? Because that's precisely what National are saying to many voters, putting Labour's figures beside their own calculations.

Perhaps they've done the research. Maybe they realise that a low-middle income family with a bunch of kids already know they're going to be better off with Labour. But this is election year, surely there must be some way the Nats could spin it?

It's interesting though. Considering it's a calculator, it's very hard to get a straight answer out of it. Particularly when it comes to my student loan. I'm sorry, but "$40,000+" just won't cut it. There's a huge difference between $40,000, my loan ($52k), and someone with a loan of $80k. I know the average loan is considerably lower than $40k, but I also know I'm not the only one whose balance is higher.

So why can't we just type numbers into the boxes, rather than having to select from a finite list? Is it simply bad design, or because as your loan heads up over $40k, the greater the chance you'll be 'Better Off with Labour'?

Similarly, it's impossible to separate out National's student loan rebate from it's tax policy. Mind you, with the $40k limit, any comparisons are meaningless for me.

David Farrar has kindly taken the time to put together an Excel spreadsheet which fixes a few of NatCalc's errors. Although it does base its bottom line on the Mother of All Assumptions – that you'll put ALL of National's tax cuts back into your student loan as voluntary payments.

It's this sort of thinking that brought you the "everyone will max out their loan, invest it, then pay it back and pocket the profit" call I've seen spouted. This isn't a question of left versus right, it's actually the question "do humans always act completely rationally?" Or, more personally, "do I always act completely rationally when it comes to money?"

If you have problems putting money aside, saving for the future, and could say in good faith that when National's tax cuts kick in, you'll plough it straight back into your loan without a second thought, then great. But if you're one of those "I'll just have a holiday first/ oh hang on now my cellphone bill is due/ how much was my rebate again/ my birthday's next month, I'll treat myself first" kinda people, you might be better off with Labour's no interest policy. But that's for you to decide.

On another electoral tip, thanks to the ever-informative Fundy Post for pointing out that everyone's favourite Neo Nazi, Kyle Chapman, is now standing for the DirectDemocracy party.

Chapman is described euphemistically as a "staunch patriot". But my favourite line is would have to be:

He worked for 4 years with disadvantaged youngsters and was involved in many projects, mostly dealing with the pressing issues of the moment.

I imagine the greatest disadvantage those children ever faced was Chapman himself. And "mostly dealing with the pressing issues of the moment"? I suppose I can't blame them for being vague…

Okay, I'm not in the slightest bit concerned they're going to end up in Parliament, but what sort of party is DirectDemocracy that they thought it would help their cause having Chapman associated?

I'm sure it doesn't help anyone's reputation to be associated with a dangerous idiot like Chapman, I’m particularly interested in knowing how his fellow candidates Dilip Rupa, Tin Chan, Paul Teio and Seira Perese feel about it. I've written to them, and will keep you updated on their responses.

Oh, and just in case anyone was being vaguely swayed by Chapman's consistent denials of his NeoNazi heritage, have another look at this picture.

In the interests of fairness and accuracy, I should add that Kyle has previously stated he never noticed the eight guys doing Nazi salutes behind him, nor that the guy on the left was wearing a Swastika armband. He also never even knew who the guys were apparently; they just turned up and wanted to have their photo taken with him holding the National Front flag. Um, because they were impressed like with his work with disadvantaged youth and stuff, you know?