Cracker by Damian Christie

It’s been a wee while, and by way of apology I will be giving away some frankly excellent kiwi music t-shirts below, so keep reading. Actually it’s not by way of apology at all, I’ve been meaning to give these t-shirts away for a few weeks, and the only reason is that I care about youse fullas, and like to thank you for putting up with me. As the kids say, :)

What with the day job in politics telly, and my spot as the new drinking columnist for Metro – a refreshingly wide brief, where I’m (thankfully) not expected for the most part to review bars – I have been more occupied than many in considering the government’s new proposed drinking laws. I’ve made my thoughts on the maximum 4am closing time proposal here before, and in a slightly more considered way in the latest Metro (the one with the mayors in drag on the cover).

It might seem like an odd battle to fight, but with a history of managing some of our later late night establishments, and having also set up NZ's first DJ management agency, it’s an issue I care about. And while I no longer manage clubs or DJs, and very seldom find myself indulging in either, I’d like to think those still young enough to enjoy it will have the option. What Justice Minister Simon Power saw that morning on his way to TVNZ to make him hold the view he does – the drunken dregs outside Dispensary Bar, presumably – is not representative of what happens at 5am. But it’s an easy hit for Power in what we now see is a fairly watered-down attempt to solve our nation’s drinking issue.

And now both Banks and Brown are in line with Power too. Somewhere along the line John Banks went from wanting us to live in an "international city" (his words), to not. Shame. I'll be at the Metro Mayoral Super Quiz on Sunday (Sale St, if you're around) and hope to raise it with the candidates then. Although it's probably not a great week to talk to Mr Banks about the merits of liberal drinking laws.

I had the privilege to interview Professor David Nutt a couple of weeks ago for Public Address Radio. If his name rings a bell it's because he’s the former advisor to the UK’s former Labour government, an internationally renowned expert who was chucked for daring to suggest they base drug policy on the actual harm caused to people, and therefore consider alcohol and tobacco to be more dangerous than drugs like marijuana and ecstasy. Heresy. His thinking is not surprisingly in line with other experts, including Wellington-based Australasian expert Dr Paul Quigley (who I’ve also interviewed on this), who had a lot of input into the Law Commission’s reports into alcohol and drugs (the final version of which is yet to be released but has already been dismissed by the government).

Ironically, this week’s news that the tobacco excise tax increase has been remarkably effective in reducing demand, exceeding all expectations in fact, will only put more pressure on the government to do the same with alchohol. The experts say that just like tobacco, price is the most effective instrument of changing behaviour when it comes to alcohol. The government argues that unlike tobacco, which effectively kills people when taken as directed, many people enjoy alcohol responsibly so why should they be penalised.

Well, the answer is, we live in a society. And if we accept that we as a society have an issue with alcohol, which most people do, then we should look at effective solutions. The government has no problem lumping everyone aged between 18 and 20 into the same basket and penalising them all equally. Just as they’ve no issue saying that everyone in a bar after 4am is causing harm to themselves and others. If harm reduction is the goal, and price is the most effective instrument of reducing harm to those who need it most, then why shouldn’t everyone suck it up? Not particularly libertarian of me, sure, but we’re working within a framework which is a helluva long way from being laissez faire, let’s not pretend that an increase on the existing tax is the only thing between us and some sort of Randian paradise.

On a more positive note, spring. F**k yeah. Scallop season opened yesterday, I’ll definitely be past my privates in the still freezing waters of the Manukau harbour this weekend looking for a feed. Wish me luck.

Now, the competition.

Muy amigo Dave Gibson of closet.co.nz has kindly offered a few t-shirts to give away. As the bFM slogan goes, you Lucky Little Buggers. The t-shirts come from a new range available from closet.co.nz, a range called Wordsby. Because they’re "words by" New Zealand songwriters, given new life in t-shirt form by a range of designers. Names like Kelvin Soh and Simon Chesterman, leaders in their field, and the likes of Dick Frizzell, an up-and-comer but definitely one to watch. Styley t-shirts they are too, high quality, and yes, everyone including the songwriters gets paid.

THE VERLAINES X TOM HENRY

If you’d like to participate, feel free to do so in the discussion below, or send me mail directly through the feedback button (or email me at my firstname.lastname at gmail dot com – just make sure you spell damiAn properly). I want your favourite New Zealand song lyrics, and which artist or designer you’d like to re-interpret them. Or, if you’re really keen (and want a better chance of winning), have a crack yourself on the photoshopz – email me the images and I’ll post them next week. Choice.

(Since you're asking, my favourite NZ lyrics? - Shihad, "it's been a day of tiny triumphs..." which always makes me think of matchbox cars (as I've said here before... and Voom's heartbreaking, "When you went to Australia... I promised I would come over..." from the song Beth.)

Hi there. Just a quick update to say that those of you who are interested in the Internet might want to check out the TVNZ 7 Internet Debate tonight at 9.10pm (in place of Back Benches). I'm hosting, it's live from Avalon with all manner of interesting panellists and audience members.

Freeview Channel 7, Sky Channel 97 or streaming live online at Internetnz.net.nz

That is all. More soon, including some awesome giveaways of cool kiwi music t-shirts from my mates at closet.co.nz. Stay tuned.

They almost got me. Almost got into my head, made me one of theirs. It's the same with most cults: It all starts innocently enough, it seems attractive from the outside. Look at them with their good looks and their smooth edges. Contrast it with my mongrel life, a collection of odds and ends gathered haphazardly over the years.

I've certainly dipped my toe into the cultist waters. But I guess the difference between me and the sort of obsessive we've come to associate with this particular group, is that I have tasted freedom. I'm not used to life in a cage, no matter how gilded. And then in the past week, just as I was paving the way for a life in blissful captivity, someone shoved a red pill down my throat and the full horror of the Matrix was revealed.

And so this weekend, when current cultists and hopeful prospects were queuing for the iPad, I wasn't among them. Russell was, of course. He'd even taken the week off our radio show in preparation. He said it was so he could enjoy his birthday, but I'd seen that fire in his eye before. Sure enough, this Monday he emailed to say he couldn't do the radio show again this week. Like a mayoral candidate on a P binge, he already had some flimsy excuse ready. A holiday with his family he claimed, when it was obvious he'd been holed up in a hotel room with his new device, commiting despicable acts and generally invalidating the warranty.

As I say, I've dabbled. I have an old Mac laptop, one of the nice titanium ones, flash at the time, but already outdated when I bought it as an ex-demo model. It won't take the OS updates anymore, has issues with certain websites, but it's served me well. I've had a few iPods over the years too. The first died just outside of its 12 month warranty, the replacement (I kicked up a fuss) a few months later. I have one that still works, but these days it collects dust in my drawer, all but surpassed by my iPhone.

Ah yes, the iPhone. The source of my fallout with Apple. The veil lifted from my eyes. The concerned family members kidnapping me and locking me in a motel room for a week's intense de-brainwashing.

So while Apple gets all sorts of bad press for a fairly major flaw in its iPhone 4, I've been dealing with a pretty fricking major issue with the iPhone 3G. An issue largely unreported (although the message boards are full of complaints), even though it probably affects more people than the iPhone 4 problem.

Put simply, the iPhone 4.0 OS update - the new operating system designed for the iPhone 4, but recommended as an update for the 3G and 3GS as well - is fuct. Sure, it works fine on the iPhone 4 - well aside from the misreporting of signal strength which has been dealt with in 4.0.1; and by all accounts it's good on the 3GS too. But installed on the 3G, it can cripple the phone. Applications now take up to 30 seconds to load, including the iPod, the camera - even trying to send a text. Other applications open easily enough, but then run slow. And any number of applications suddenly don't work at all (however many have now released 4.0 compatible versions).

Apple must've known about this, right? With millions of 3G phones out there, and its emphasis on testing, it would've discovered this pretty easily, and either revised the update, or advised against applying it to 3G phones? Here's what it says on the Apple website:

Compatibility
iOS 4 works with iPhone 4, iPhone 3GS and iPhone 3G. Not all features are compatible with all devices. For example, multitasking is available only with iPhone 4 and iPhone 3GS.

Guess it depends what you mean by "works" I guess.

I don't know whether Apple didn't want to admit that a phone it was selling a year ago is now effectively redundant, or it just didn't care. I can't believe for a second it didn't know about the issue. But what makes it even more infuriating is that you can't simply undo the installation.

On a PC (and yes, I'm a PC man), I could just roll back my computer, and/or wipe the iPhone and reinstall the old 3.1.3 system. But not Apple. No, you're stuck with the new, even if it doesn't work. Of course the Internet is filled with people who have worked out various hacks to do what should be a simple Undo. And so last weekend I spent a good six hours, downloading old versions of iTunes, old iPhone operating systems (no longer available from Apple of course), various programs to manually seize control of my computer's USB ports, to force the old OS back onto my unwilling iPhone, and to force it out of its user-induced coma. Six hours. After which my computer's USB ports stopped working for a bit, and there was all sorts of dodgy software from unknown sources now loaded on it. Six hours of a sunny Sunday.

Thanks Apple.

My iPhone works okay now, but I'll never update the OS again.

I'm realistic though. Just as I spent a lot of the World Cup discussing The Problem with Soccer, before acknowledging that its cumilative audience of 26 billion people meant any issues obviously weren't affecting its popularity, the iPhone 4, which has a pretty major flaw (dropping calls if you hold it in a certain place), is still selling at two a second. Would you buy a car with the same flaw? Of course not. But this is the Cult of Apple. I'm pretty sure that if the first iPhone had been the same size as the iPad, it still would've sold by the million, and people would be holding these massive devices to their ears as they walked down the road. But not me. I won't be buying the iPhone 4. Well, not until they sort out this dropping calls issue. I mean, it's a good looking phone...

On Friday evening I was up at the ACP offices, celebrating the release of the new issue of Metro magazine, the first under the editorship of Simon Wilson. Also the first to feature a regular column by yours truly, on the topic of 'Drinking'. My own contribution aside, it's a great debut issue for a new editor, and Mr Wilson should be very happy. Lots of lovely photography and a great feature on Chris Knox by the equally legendary Gary Steel too.

Anyway, my point is that while I was there, talking to the various attendees, we began discussing the Auckland Mayoralty. As you do.

"How long do you think it'll be before Simon Prast's P use comes out?" someone mused to a small group of us.

"Do you think it will?" I responded, noting another well-known Aucklander whose P use is legendary, and yet remains unspoken of in the media.

"Yes, but he's not running for public office, is he," explained my colleague.

As it turned out, the answer to the first question was "about 48 hours".

You'd have to imagine that's Mr Prast's chances at the Mayoralty, fanciful as they were to begin with, now completely up in smoke. Yes, pun intended.

I have a certain admiration for Simon Prast's behaviour in front-footing this issue. If he had never admitted it, it may never have been published. It takes a very brave newspaper to print unproven allegations of a mayoral candidate's drug use. As far as we are aware, there were no witnesses lining up to spill the beans. And his characterisation of his use, "it was something that was becoming an issue" appears a lot more honest than the "I tried it just the once", the "I didn't inhale" or Phil Goff's wilfully naive "my daughter has never done drugs before".

However I can't agree with what I take to be his call for a lift on the "hypocritical" ban on P, that it should be treated more in line with tobacco and alcohol. If anything, tobacco certainly (and maybe alcohol) should be treated more in line with P - at least from the accepted wisdom that if you were trying to introduce either product into society these days, they would be unlikely to get the green light.

I certainly think we should take a more health-related than criminal justice approach to people with drug addictions. I'd also be keen to see a relaxing of laws relating to those drugs whose illegality seems to have a lot more to do with fearmongering and hype than hard evidence.

But I've seen P at work. I was managing a very popular nightclub when it really hit town. Suddenly toilet cubicles were occupied far more and far longer with those sneaking a smoke. For a while it was quite acceptable among the same crowd who had been out dancing on E for the preceding few years. Glass pipes abounded - they were sold openly down at Vic Park Market, and were rushing out the door. I remember one night a friend coming up and complaining that he'd been asking everyone for a marijuana pipe, and everyone kept offering him the glass variety. "Hasn't anyone got a f***ing weed pipe!?" he yelled in frustration.

And then the casualties started to pile up. There was the guy who would no longer look you in the eye when he spoke to you, and instead mumbled at the floor. He'd lost his car. There was the guy who used to be quite good looking, but now was gaunt, with scabs on his cheek from constant scratching. There were the broadcasters smoking P at work, even first thing in the morning. There was the woman I knew who had been earning $100k+ in a good office job, who lost custody of her child, and one day called to tell me she'd just been fired from a brothel. There was the ad executive whose wife came home to find he'd sold all the household furniture, right down to his own kids' beds.

At the same time, the Government began cracking down on P users and P dealers, reclassifying P and increasing penalties. But you know what had the biggest impact in terms of affecting use among those around me? Seeing the impact on people like those described above, and their loved ones. If P was glamorous when it first hit Auckland, it certainly stopped being so as the bodycount grew.

Those of us who'd been there during that time knew the reality. We knew that not everyone who smoked P became an addict - not even the 90% put forward by the anti-P lobby groups. And not everyone who became an addict sold their body, or went on a murderous rampage. There was a massive chasm between the media and police hype, and the reality. But certainly more people were finding the downside than any drug I'd seen before.

That was quite a few years ago now. Those casualties are still around, although they've largely dropped out of society. I understand quite a few moved to Piha, where they have some sort of drug-addled community. Others, more high-functioning, are still working, still in the public eye. Others have found the strength to knock it on the head, apparently, and are now standing for public office.

P might still be an epidemic elsewhere, according to the police, however it's all but disappeared in my social circles. I was at a party six months ago, having a discussion with a few people I hadn't met before. "Does anyone know where to get any meth?" one asked, randomly, suddenly, and as he turned his head, the light hit the left side of his face. Scratched red, raw with scabs. The rest of us looked at each other, and tried our best not to shudder in obvious disgust.

I like to think I have a pretty balanced and realistic view about these things. Probably a bit more liberal than most. But even though he says he's kicked the habit, I don't think Simon Prast should run our new Super City. And now, as a result of his own forthrightness, it's almost certain he won't.

I have mixed feelings about the efforts of The Jono Project (formerly Jono's New Show) to dupe various media into running fictional stories, various media which as of this week include TVNZ's Breakfast, which ran an interview with a man purporting to be heading a pro-whaling lobby group.

The first point: Tricking media is like shooting kittens in a barrel.

It's not a question of a lack of fact checking, though that too is certainly rife in all areas of the media. Time constraints, years of thinning out of staff, not to mention good old human error and laziness contribute to mistakes. And then there's a tendancy to take people at their word; or at least believing that they believe the point they are making. I interview a number of people each week for radio, television and print, short of having them turn up with three forms of ID and sworn affadavits, there is a certain amount of assuming they are who they say they are, and they believe what they say.

This of course is not to say I don't challenge the views and assumptions put forward in such interviews, although that too shouldn't be taken for granted these days. And of course I've made the same mistakes myself, whether due to laziness, pressure, or increasingly in these days of internet-based research, trying to find the one correct fact in a haystack of misinformation.

The best example - and the toughest story I've ever written in terms of finding some semblance of the truth - was a piece I wrote for the Herald about the Boxing Day Tsunami. Not only were major facts difficult to ascertain - the total number killed in Indonesia for example, will never be known - but even relatively trivial facts were hard to establish - the dimensions of a large ship washed inland is reported with so many variations all I could do was take an average, and hope. And that's assuming these variations were all reported in good faith - imagine if at the same time someone was trying to intentionally mislead me for their own purposes, even just a practical joke.

I don't want to be too po-faced about this, but to be honest I just don't think the gags are especially clever in this instance, or so dramatically outrageous as to really call into question the ability of the media to spot a fib at fifty yards. Most importantly, I don't think they're making a particularly satirical point (compared with, say, Eating Media Lunch at its best, seeing how long a talkback host would put up with a string of "tena kotou tena kotou..." before political correctness gives way to impatience).

Take for example the first instance, the hoax revealed on Jono's show this week. A photograph is staged purportedly showing eight mini-yolks to have come from one egg. The photo is distributed to the media. It is run as light entertainment on the Stuff website, and picked up by a regional newspaper. Later it is picked up by Breakfast, and run in what is traditionally a spot for regional trivia. Mission accomplished.

But what's the point? That you can fool the media, and therefore the public, that an egg had eight yolks? That all media have, to a greater or lesser extent, an interest in publishing or broadcasting trivia? Welcome to the eighties - let me introduce you to the phrase "cutesy animal story". Cutesy egg stories continue - here's another example from the Bay of Plenty Times just this week.

Is the point perhaps that the media should check facts more thoroughly? Should TVNZ have dispatched a reporter and crew down to the octo-yolk incident (and every such story), demanded affadavits, ordered DNA analysis to ensure the yolks were indeed of the alleged animal, and then, some weeks later, run the story with a sound conscience? Or is the point there should be no trivia on Breakfast television, an internet website, or a newspaper?

The second example, the interview with the pro-whaling spokesman, raises different issues. Because whaling is not trivia; it's an issue demanding much national and international attention, an issue serious enough that a New Zealand man is currently imprisoned in Japan for his actions.

It would be hypocritical of me to say humour should be forbidden in such situations - I make a good living taking the piss out of each weeks' events. The only thing I steer clear of personally are serious crime stories: I have never found much entertainment in the grief of others, which is why I no longer work in primetime current affairs.

As far as jokes go, again I think this one missed its mark. It was far too safe, for one. Portraying a dull, dry, libertarian on a mission to open discussion about commercial whaling and hoping to gain 500 signatures on a petition? Woah, watch out Jon Stewart. The axiom 'truth is stranger than fiction' springs to mind - if you were presented with the fake pro-whaling interview, and the all-too-real Young Act member Rick Giles on Sunrise, I doubt anyone would correctly choose the imposter. Even watching it after knowing it was fake, there was no "how could anyone believe that?" moment.

If you want to make a point about the gullability of media, and it's inability to spot a hoax, why not throw in a few 'fun facts' about the nutritious benefits of whale meat (100x richer in Omega 3, proven to fight free radicals and lower cholesterol, actually reverses the onset of type 2 diabetes...), the problem with whale overpopulation in certain regions and how some species are actually damaging their environment, the 'possums of the sea'... I don't know. The sort of thing you look back at and go 'ahhhh... we should have seen that coming'. Get that past the goalie and you've got something to be proud of.

Which is not to say there is no lesson to be learned from the would-be whaler. In my opinion, it is this: Stop giving column inches and airtime to people simply because their views are controversial. Ask yourself whether they represent a substantial minority (and even then, let's keep it somewhat proportionate), or whether there is some scientific evidence or research to back what they're saying. Or ask yourself if you're chasing controversy for its own sake. Because that serves no reasonable purpose. In the ratio of light:heat, it's all warmth and no illumination. There's plenty of rational debate and newsworthy conflict out there to make for interesting reading, listening and watching, without being mindlessly inflammatory.

In other words, let's never put that cantankerous old fool Bob Jones on TV again, please?

EDIT - Someone has already linked to this in the discussion page, but as there are a few hundred comments now, and as I've only just watched it and fell about laughing, I have to point to this guy, Kenny K-Strass Strasser, as how such a spoof should be done. (Hat tip: Stephen and Lewis)