Nightmare on Every St

16 May, 2007

David Bain, the bloke who in 1994, shot his family to death then went and did his newspaper round before coming back and “finding” them, has been freed on bail after a successful case at the Privy Council.

Good for him and his supporters, although he’s merely”accused” instead of “guilty” now, so he should go to a re-trial.

So the media are wetting themselves over this, broadcasting “live” from anywhere vaguely related to the case, and blathering on about “compensation”, “joyous victory”, and the “justice system in New Zealand”. Which will make them look slightly silly if he’s found guilty on the rest of the evidence later on.

But enough of that. Did the radio station that gave him the jersey in the picture below do this deliberately?  :


 Remind you of any other infamous killer…?



Lard Causes Ulcers

15 March, 2007

The “tub of lard” leader of the political party that wishes New Zealand to return to the same cannabalistic stone-age culture that Captain Cook found the Maori in, Tariana Turia, proves just what a racist shit-bag she is recently, when her and the bunch of nuts in her party called for limits on immigration from Western countries, accusing the Government of trying to stop the “browning of New Zealand”.


Tub of Lard                                     Turia



Notes to tub of lard:

  • Every time you refer to “our people” as being distinct from New Zealanders, you’re being a racist shit-bag.
  • Mentioning colour in your comments shows you most definitely are a racist shit-bag.
  • The criminals in this country are almost exclusively Maori, so people may be forgiven for thinking that the de-browning of NZ would be a good thing.
  • However, most poeple also realise that if you bring up a Maori in a decent household, he’ll be a decent bloke: it’s your racist, sexist, criminal, stone-age, exclusive, violent, un-self-controlled “culture” that breeds criminals. Look to that before you look anywhere else.

I happened to be on the same aeroplane as the tub of lard last week, and I almost thought it worthwhile to pull out my mobile phone and make a call during the flight, so as to “interfere with the navigation instruments on the craft”, thereby causing it to plumment from the sky in a molten fireball, simply to rid the world of the tub of lard. But then I couldn’t be bothered and ate my Air New Zealand biscuit like a good little passenger.

Note to self:

  • Stop paying attention to New Zealand news stories that feature politics, or you’ll give yourself an ulcer.

Now Both Sides of the Tasman are Whinging Soft-Cocks.

28 February, 2007

Is there anywhere left in the world where politically correct bullshit hasn’t raped the good folks of that country of any vestige of humour they might have had, under the guise of it potentially offending someone?
Check your local laws. I don’t believe any country yet has the given people the right to not be offended. Though Flying Spaghetti Monster (I hope that wasn’t taking His name in vain…?) knows it won’t be long before we’ll probably see it.
But at least we’re not alone. Yes, us New Zealanders thought that a billboard of this ad:

Hawkinsadban Thumbnail

might offend someone – women, rhinoceroses, or horny people – who knows? But the potential was there, by crikey. So it was banned.

It wasn’t the fact that there was a half naked women with meter-wider tits looming over Auckland airport punters, no. Ads like those are everywhere. It was the temerity of the advertisers to suggest the attractive women might have some vague connection to do with horny sex. Outrageous!

And how the Aussies laughed. But now their tepid whingers have come out, gasping in horror that is this Hyundai ad:

There were 80 complainants, and countless other pillocks who bothered to write letters to the editors of daily papers, screaming to the skies above, that their beloved results of groinal slappage and seminal outpourings (or “little brats” to you and me) had seen the ad and then tried to drive off in the family car. Or at least the pillock had a dream that that happened. They have trouble differentiating reality from fantasy, and therefore believe everyone else is the same, especially the darling kiddie-winkles, Flying Spaghetti Monster bless ’em.
And so they banned it. Meanwhile, we voted it our favourite ad.

New Zealand, Australia… you’re a bunch of arse.

Book Buying on the Cheap

11 January, 2007

I can’t remember the last book that I purchased for full price from a local bookstore. And at $24 for a paperback, or $35 plus for the annoyingly larger trade paperback size, it’s no surprise. So , when Dymocks has a sale, I’m there with bells on.

So, I picked up these the other day for $10 each (all in trade paperback size, sigh):


Judas Unchained by Peter Hamilton.

It’s the second in his series, started by Pandora’s Star, of which I’m working my way through at the moment, and enjoying. But, damn, they’re long books.


Looking for Jake and Other Stories by China Mieville.

The oddly named bloke from London has put out a collection of short stories. I’ve read the title story, and it’s a nice elegy of loss in a weirdly de-populating London. So classicly Mieville that it’s almost asking to be parodied, though. A concordance of Mieville’s works would probably consist entirely of words like: dark, soot, gibbering, wretched, soot, trash, lurking, smoke, grey…


The Etched City by K.J. Bishop

From Publishers Weekly:
Combine equal parts of Stephen King’s Dark Tower series and China Mieville’s Perdido Street Station, throw in a dash of Aubrey Beardsley and J.K. Huysmans, and you’ll get some idea of this disturbing, decadent first novel from Australian author Bishop.  

 Similar quotes on the book’s praise pages inspired me to try this one out, and yes, I did judge it from its pleasantly dark and gothic cover.

OK, it’s fantasy, but at least it’s darker, more “realistic” fantasy, and a random reading of a couple of pages suggested that the writing was not your normal fantasy-styled adverbial overload (Prince Goober scowled darkly; the unlikely band of misfits rode uncomfortably; the fairy laughed airily, while the dark lord growls menacingly), or ridiculously named orphan boys who are unknowing royalty/wizards/gimps saving the woman/world/universe after some turgid, three-book-long  trek over an unlikely map that you have to keep referring to if you want any idea of what the hell is going on.

It was dark, it was readable, and the bit I read contained a threat of sewing up a religious nut inside the belly of a dead mammoth. That sold me.


20 December, 2006

Last week we went out for our Christmas work party to the very good Cobar bar and restaurant. The week preceding had been a series of piratically-themed challenges (walking the plank, finding pieces of a treasure map, calling female work collegues “buxom wenches” and so on), culminating in a frenzied dig on a beach searching for boxes of treasure (that’s real treasure: hundreds of dollars worth of vouchers, booze tokens, and er..beads). ‘Twas most humorous when one team couldn’t find their box, and neither could anyone else, including the organisers who buried it, resulting in a fairly large square meterage of sand being excavated with ridiculous toy spades.

The whole week was called Pirates of the Cobarrean. (Get it?)

We got dressed up on the actual day of the party. Now, some people can carry off a pirate costume with a certain panache, such as random models from the internet:


Slightly alcoholically befuddled workmates who insist on wearing patches on both eyes – now that’s a different story…


Reading Should be a Joy

5 November, 2006

Nice article by Nick Hornby.

I find his books a bit “man-lit” i.e chick-lit for men, but they’re still entertaining, and he’s entirely right in this article: if you don’t enjoy the book you’re trying to trudge your way through, then give it up.

I’m a shocker for dutifully and slowly reading books that make my brain want to escape out my ear and go for a holiday in Amsterdam.

The Seven Warning Signs of Bogus Science

5 November, 2006

Old article, but still worthwhile.

The one that the “health” food nutters use is number 5:

5. The discoverer says a belief is credible because it has endured for centuries. There is a persistent myth that hundreds or even thousands of years ago, long before anyone knew that blood circulates throughout the body, or that germs cause disease, our ancestors possessed miraculous remedies that modern science cannot understand. Much of what is termed “alternative medicine” is part of that myth.

Ancient folk wisdom, rediscovered or repackaged, is unlikely to match the output of modern scientific laboratories.

Flogging off a random plant that was allegedly eaten for “health benefits” by a stone-age culture to ignorant dupes is exactly the sort of fraudulent crap that places like Blackmores do.

When I become leader of New Zealand and rename it Meromotopia, the first thing that I’ll do will be to require all these crappy products that don’t work to have a large warning that takes up the same proportion of the packet as the anti-smoking propaganda cigarettes are forced to have on them, that says:


Health claims made

by this product are for

entertainment puposes only.