The President's Brain is Missing!

Have you ever wondered if Dubya had voices inside his head telling him what to do? Well it seems someone did.

Something Serious.

For those of you not interested in local body politics, and I suspect that's most of you, I suggest you look away now.

Recent events appear to be lending weight to the supposition Christchurch's Mayor, Garry Moore, is having some sort of political sea-change. Garry Moore is a member of the Labour Party and has long been an advocate of preserving Christchurch's assets in the ownership of the City Council. He was publicly in support of this approach as a councilor and also from when he became Mayor back in 1998. It was, and remains a part of Labour 2021's policy. In fact the City Council then earned the ire of the sitting National government for its approach and was given the moniker "The People's Republic of Christchurch".

However things have changed. In recent months the Christchurch City Council has removed the Red Bus Company and Christchurch City Facilities from the strategic assets list. This effectively gives the Council the scope to sell them off if it so chooses. Another major policy change has been the proposal to engage in a joint venture over the ownership of the Lyttelton Port Company. The Council's trading enterprise, CCHL, intends to buy out the remaining 31 percent of shares of the company and then sell 49.9% of the company to a Hong Kong based firm called Hutchison Holdings (more on it and it's owners soon).

This is a major policy shift for the City Council and one that begs a few questions. Such as:

1) Why, if retaining assets for the public good is such a good idea, weren't ratepayers residents consulted on this?

2) Why didn't the Mayor, who's wholeheartedly endorsed these proposals, run on it as a platform at the last local body election?

3) Why is Garry Moore following strategies that appear to contradict Labour 2021 policy?

4) Is this a natural result of ongoing Council restructuring which has seen long serving local government managers replaced by recruits from private enterprise?

Garry Moore's explanation regarding the Port Company deal so far has been to argue that a strong overseas investor is needed to make it viable in the long term. He believes the port has been held hostage by shipping companies which have been playing different ports around the country off against each other to get the best deal possible. On Newstalk ZB today he even raised the spectre that shipping companies were considering making Australian ports the hub of their main operations (which is a bit dumb really because that's the way it is anyway).

If the deal goes through the Council, through CCHL, stands to make about 41 million dollars. When you think about it this isn't a lot of money for a major piece of infrastructure, especially when you consider the cost of buying out the 31 percent of the LPC will have to be deducted from it. The word is the Council will only end up with about 14 million dollars on the deal. Even then there's no guarantee CCHL will return the money to the Council as dividend.

Tomorrow - some little known details about Hutchison Port Holdings and its parent company Hutchison Whampoa Limited, and HWL's chairman Li Ka Shing.

Cheney, Abu Ghraib, and Guatanamo Bay

I'll let the Daily Show say it all ...



I will be posting something vaguely serious in the next day or so.

If I get the time.

Dead Eye Dick

There's just so much humour in US Vice-president Dick Cheney's shooting accident. I'd give it a crack but there are people who are far, far better than me. Here are a few samples.
(note broadband is advisable to view these)

From The Daily Show



David Letterman does his bit.



And so does Bob Rivers. Incidentally this is one of the better Aerosmith rip-offs I've heard in a while.

Just Links

Have you ever wondered what 100,000 volts might look like? If so, then take a look at this.

Feel like belting a penguin? This will relieve your tension. (491.3 ft is my current best)

If It Walks Like a Duck ....

This post is dedicated to the Christchurch Central Police Area Commander, Inspector Gary Knowles.

Last September, 17 year old Wayne Darias Silbery was at the wheel of a white 1989 Pontiac Le Mans that was involved in a multi-car pile up on Buckleys Road in the Christchurch suburb of Linwood. Five people required hospital treatment as a result. One teenager, 16 year old Rangi Wano who was a passenger in Silbery's car died from head injuries received in the crash.

At the time of the accident Silbery's car was being followed by an unmarked police car. The police had been trying to stop it as they were trying to apprehend Rangi Wano who had escaped from a CYFS home the previous day. Immediately after the accident Inspector Gary Knowles went to great lengths to impress on the media that police were only following the youths, that there was no police pursuit or chase (you'll have to scroll down a bit to see the news story on this link) happening at the time of the crash.

Well this is what came out at last week's depositions hearing. The driver of the Police vehicle, Constable Richard Carolan, gave evidence that there were two collisions between the police car and the youth's car in the course of the chase which went for about 2-3 km. He also said speeds reached during the pursuit (his words) were up to 100 km/h. This is on roads where the speed limits were 50-60 km/h. During the chase Silbery ran three intersections, crossed median barriers, and drove on the wrong side of the road at least twice before the fatal crash.

Now maybe I'm being a little picky but I reckon when there are speeds of up to 100 km/h recorded in 50 km zones, then it pretty much qualifies as a police pursuit. Doesn't it?

Other bits of information that came out in the hearing was that Constable Carolan had got his gold driving certificate (required training course in pursuit driving for officers) in August. When asked by Silbery's lawyer, David Ruth, he couldn't recall the number of pursuits he'd been involved in.

The issue I have here is not with the police actions in the pursuit, but how they were represented by senior officers afterwards. By categorically denying a pursuit took place Inspector Knowles has effectively hung the Constable out to dry. Constable Carolan now has to justify his actions, which in official terms were not a pursuit, but in reality were.

Did Inspector Knowles not realise details would come out later on in Court that would make his stance look like a deliberate campaign of misinformation. He's handed Silbery's lawyer the tool he needs to rip the police up one side and down the other when this gets to trial. David Ruth may not be able to get Silbery off, but he'll be able to make Canterbury Police look a bunch of incompetents.

On a final aside involving the Christchurch Police. They made an interesting, but unsuccessful, suppression application at this sentencing on Friday. The Crown's submissions bouyed police data which revealed the amount of violent crime had risen in Christchurch by about 40 percent in 2005 compared to 2004. Police had asked the data be suppressed as it normally goes through" further processes" before being released to the public. Good on Judge Erber for not having a bar of it! It'll be interesting to see Christchurch's 2005 crime statistics just to see what happens to the figures quoted in Court last week once they've been further processes.

Anyone care to make a wager that the rise in the"official violent crime rate" will be lower than 40%?

Merry Goddamn Christmas

Better late than never.



Seriously, who comes up with this shit?

Random Weirdness

The Australians once again come up with a stupid idea which allows us Kiwis to retain a feeling of moral superiority.

CANBERRA, Jan 30 (Reuters) - An Australian state plans to ban students from wearing denim because it is linked with having a good time.

"It is associated with weekend wear, with recreational time. It's just unacceptable at schools and we are trying to lift the standards," a spokesman for Western Australia state Education Minister Ljiljanna Ravlich said.

The ban on denim in Western Australia's secondary schools will be imposed from 2007.

Then the Alaskans just prove that's there only so much one can do to stay entertained in winter. To be honest I kind of like the concept. The idea of making a 140 foot ice tower is strangely appealing. I guess it's probably a bloke thing.

Finally, (and staying with America) which misguided genius came up with this idea? i mean it's quite impressive but for God's sake why would you want to know where your one dollar bills went? Personally I'd be more interested in tracking down the fifties or the hundreds. I see them so rarely that I wouldn't mind finding out who the lucky bastard was that ended up with them.

The Internet is for .....

This is an oldie but a goodie ... and, incidentally, sums up the real purpose of the internet.



(if you don't have broadband this will take an age to load)

Movie Critics Gone Nuts

Only in America can a piece of classic childrens' literature be turned into gangsta rap. C.S Lewis must be spinning in his grave.

Bloody funny though.

It Takes It's Toll.

After a break of about seven years I ventured onto the Cook Strait Ferries this holiday season. And immediately remembered why I'd made a pledge in 1998 never to travel on them again. Tranzrail or Toll it doesn't seem to matter who runs the interisland service they all seem to make a bloody great mess of it.

One got my goat on this occasion was the way they berth the new ferry Kaitaki in Wellington harbour. Take it from me, if you take the one PM service from Picton don't expect to be getting off it in a hurry if you are taking your car across.

Here's why:

The Kaitaki doesn't berth at the old ferry terminal. Instead it ties up further towards the city ... sort of near where Shed 11 used to be. From the off-ramp of the ferry, it's a mere 150 or so metres to the traffic lights that get you onto the main road outside the train station. That 150 metres fills with cars very rapidly and the lights aren't friendly towards cars coming off the ferry. Especially when it's rush hour.


That's the view that greets the travelling motorist as they get off in Wellington. Mind you they have to wait for it. Around 45 minutes in a fume engulfed ship's hold. Having said that, as bad as I felt I can only assume these poor souls behind me were far worse off.


The three hours spent on the boat isn't so bad, but take it from me having to wait the best part of an hour to get off is a pain in the arse. Toll, could you kindly sort your shit out!

What's in the Water in the Waimakariri?

I mean how do you account for the similarities between these two men?

Mike Moore, former MP For Rangiora (now Waimakariri), former NZ Prime Minister, and former Director General of the WTO.


Then there's Clayton Cosgrove. MP for Waimakariri, Labour Party Cabinet Minister, and former political adviser/campaign manager to Mike Moore.


Give him another five years and he'll have the same hairstyle. I mean, I've heard of "Be Like Mike" but this is getting ridiculous.

'Tis the Season

What pisses me off about this time of the year (apart from Christmas) is the incessant whining that goes on regarding young people and drinking. Every New Year's it's the same old story with the media running rampant on yet another example of thuggery and yobbo-ism, and it's all attributed to the peril of teenagers and alcohol.

Well, so what? This sort of shit has been happening since time immemorial. Every generation there will be teenagers getting pissed and doing stupid things. It's human nature, it's inevitable, so get over it. Expecting teenagers to behave in a mature fashion is kind of like giving a woman a credit card and expecting her not to shop. It doesn't make any logical sense.

Furthermore, when you stop and think about it, the vast majority of teenagers pull through this phase relatively unscathed and a hell of a lot wiser for their actions. I'm glad I behaved like an idiot in my late teens and early 20's. It taught me a lot of valuable lessons. Such as drinking a bottle of vodka and then trying to siphon petrol out of a car is a really dumb thing to do. A Vodka/petrol cocktail (if it doesn't kill you) gives you the worst hangover you'll ever have and teaches you the true definition of projectile vomiting.

The fact of the matter is this; teenagers will always drink and despite the best intentions of their parents they'll find a way to do it.

The following story is a personal case in point. Back when I was about 16 my parents decided to go away to Christchurch for the weekend. I was left at home on the farm with a long list of tasks and a firm admonishment not to have any parties. My mother was especially firm on this and warned me if I had one there was no way I could get away with it. She'd raised a number of teenagers, she said while wagging her finger at me, and so knew all their tricks. But being 16, invincible, and having no regard for consequences I ignored her entirely and had a small gathering anyway.

The party as such was not a big one. In fact it wasn't really a party at all. Rather it was a collection of me and my mates getting together to get well and truly blasted. The evening consisted of music, beer, bourbon, more beer, vodka, still more beer etc, etc. Needless to say we all got very drunk very quickly and behaved like complete idiots. There was the usual air guitar, a lot of pseudo drumming, and some truly appalling attempts to sing Bachman Turner Overdrive's "You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet". Interspersed through all of this were the ubiquitous drinking games Whiz, Boing, Bounce, and Fuzzy Duck.

Unfortunately for me I got rather tipsy and reverted to a terrible habit of mine which was to try and hide from my friends by climbing a tall object. In this particular case the watertanks on top of the house. My cunning plan worked really well right up until the point that my friend, who went by the nickname of Sicky (more on him later) spotted my leg, gave it a tug, and down I came. A substantial fall onto the area below the watertanks which just happened to be paved with river boulders. Luckily I wasn't hurt, or at least I didn't think I was as the liquor had provided me with a wonderful anesthesia that suitably complemented my concussion. And that's pretty much where my night ended, I was bundled off to bed, placed in the recovery position (that's something we did know .... so much for feckless youth eh!) where I got to sleep it off.

The next morning possibly rates as the worst of my life. I was in pain. My head hurt, my back, hurt, my bladder hurt, my throat was red raw (I assumed from dry retching), there was a burning pain behind my left eye as if someone had inserted a redhot needle in my skull while I slept, and my stomach felt like someone had turned it inside out and had used it to scrape out a garbage bin. In short I felt like hammered shit. It took me roughly half an hour to drag myself into a sitting position in my bed and then I heard the worst words one can hear in such a situation.

"I've cleaned it up and I think it's OK"

"Oh Christ what the hell have they done" was the thought that flashed across my cortex. More to the point was it something that was going to land me in a world of hurt with my parents? Doing an impression reminiscent of a character from the Night of the Living Dead I dragged myself out of bed and staggered into the living room. There, to my horror, I discovered my friend Rodney in the last stages of trying clean up what appeared to be a lake of vomit from the sea-grass matting that covered the floor.

It turns out my friend Sicky (I told you we would be coming back to him) had been true to his nickname overnight. Half an hour after passing out on the sofa he'd leaned over in his sleep and casually vomited up the remains of a 3 litre cask of vodka and orange mix onto the floor. Poor Rodney, being in the firing line, had been the first to discover the problem and like a mate should had taken steps to remedy the situation.

However good intentions are not always enough as your average teenage boy really knows bugger all about what is the best way to remove sick from a floor-covering. Rattling away back in the back of Rodney's skull was a half remembered tip he'd possibly once overheard his mother talking about. Something about the properties of talcum powder seemed to strike a chord with him. So he ran with it emptying half a container of talcum powder onto the lake of vodka and orange vomit. By the time I arrived on the scene the stain, which originally had been confined to about 40 square cm, had morphed into something about a metre across with the consistency of wet cement.

The incident sparked a mass eviction on my part. My friends were more or less as bad as I was and absolutely no use at all when it came to making any rational attempt to fix matters. In fact they thought it was hilarious ... not surprising considering it wasn't their house, and not their neck on the block. So I kicked them out, opened all the windows to get the alcohol/vomit smell out, cranked up a heater and tried to get the damn stain dry. The rest of the day consisted of burst of heat treatment followed by vigorous brushing with a stiff bristle broom. Clouds of talcum powder and vomit particles were everywhere necessitating frequent dusting and vacuuming episodes. The smell does not bear describing, suffice it to say that it was foul.

For seven hours this went on until about five in the afternoon when I spied my parents driving up the road. Like a demented dervish I flew around the house closing windows, removing cleaning gear, spaying air freshener. In short doing what I could to hide the evidence of the crime that had been committed on our living room. The giant, now pale and bleached out, section of sea-grass matting shone out like a beacon in the middle of the room. I was fucked .. I'd have more chance of hiding a fur seal in the living room than hiding that stain. What to do? In a fit of desperation I rolled the sofa closer to the fireplace and over the top of the stain.

30 seconds later in walked my parents.
"How was your weekend?" asked my mother.
"Pretty quiet, watched a bit of TV" mumbles her nervous son.
"The house looks tidy, oh I see you moved the couch"
"Yeah I thought it'd be better closer to the fireplace now it's winter." (Don't move the couch, dear God please don't let her move the couch)

And blow me down if I didn't get way with it.

For three months, all throughout winter, the sofa hid my crime. That is until late spring when it was rolled back to make more space in the living room. Initially I tried to blame it on the dog, but as he was a farm dog and not allowed in the house that story didn't wash. I was sprung big time. All I could do was look my mother in the eye and say;
"You know that weekend you and Dad went away, y'know the weekend you told me not to have a party 'cos you'd know if I did?"
"Yes" (was it me or had the temperature just dropped?)
"Umm, well I had a small party and there was, well, a small accident"

Surprisingly my mother, a woman not always noted for her even temper, took it in her stride. I suspect she was more miffed that a teenager had got one over her than at the damage done to the floor. Hell she probably wanted a new carpet anyway and I'd given her the perfect excuse to get one.

It was kind of ironic that one month after my parents getting the new carpet my ex-girlfriend, with the help of one of her friends, managed to spill half a bottle of red wine on it. Once again it was another one of those parties I wasn't supposed to be having. It just goes to prove teenage boys don't learn from experience ... well at least not immediately.

Whatever Happened?

Here's a question for you. What on earth did the city of New York do with the remains of King Kong?

Why Cousins Shouldn't Marry.

'Cos it results in really stupid offspring.


This happened a while ago but the pictures are just so good I thought I should post them once I finally managed to lay my hands on them.

The hard working chap above can be seen cleaning the gutters on the top of a high rise building in central Christchurch. You will note he is wearing a safety harness, and if you look closely you may notice it's firmly attached to the hose of the high pressure water blaster.

Genius!



This wonder of evolution is about 7 stories up meaning there's a 30 metre drop just on his left. If you fall from here then you'd better know how to fly.

The World's Worst PR Person

This award has to go to the media communications woman employed by the Canterbury Police ... Maggie Leask.

On Wednesday night police are alerted to an assault on a young woman in Christchurch's inner city. Eyewitnesses from Chester Street say she was run over 4-5 times by a car, had her slammed against a wall, was then bundled into a car and driven away. All the while she's screaming for help.

The next day her semi-clothed and bound body is found partially submerged in Christchurch's Avon River. It's the city's 10th homicide this year, and as events have subsequently revealed, this woman is the second sex worker to have been murdered in the same period.

As you can imagine it's a big story (see here, here, here, and here.) which has had local reporters flat out for the past few days. Would you believe that on Friday, the day when Police were hot on the trail of the killer, a day when reporters were desperate for details, Maggie Leask was taking a day off.

She was in Wellington shopping.

It resulted in their being no official updates to media for a 24 hour period between 5pm Thursday and 5pm Friday. Obviously the inquiry head was flat out and couldn't respond to every media call. They certainly wouldn't expect him to. But given the criticism police made of the accuracy of some of the media coverage, particularly comments made by a streetworker in the Press on Friday, the onus is on them to provide some sort of communication. At the very least it can help avoid some of the issues they were so worried about.

Their communications person certainly should have been there to cover that avenue ... not swanning off in Wellington doing her Christmas shopping.

As an aside I understand Maggie Leask was recently made a life member of the PR body, PRINZ, for her lengthy services to Canterbury Police and its communications with the public and the media.

Next time you run into a Canterbury based reporter ask them what they think of Maggie Leask's communication skills. I guarantee they won't rate her highly (if at all).

Gurney

Thanks to a bit of creative blagging I managed to get an invite to the Canterbury Winter Sports Awards last Friday night. A nice little freebie that let me do a bit of selective hob-nobbing with Canterbury's sporting elite. Though as a confirmed couch potato it was very obvious I was there for the free food and drink. There was absolutely no way anyone could mistake me for a member of the sporting fraternity. I suspect the fact I was one of about three people that was ducking out every hour or so for a surreptitious cigarette well and truly confirmed my non-sporting status.

Anyway this post isn't about who got what on that particular night. Rather I want to centre on a few comments made by the guest speaker Steve Gurney. Steve really needs no introduction as he's now pretty much cemented his place in NZ sporting history. The guy's a multisport legend having won the Coast to Coast event 9 times and taken out more endurance events than I care to count. He's what you could colloquially describe as a "good bastard". A funny bloke who's always got a quip handy yet he takes sport, and his role as a sporting personality, very seriously. He's also not afraid to go out on a limb and stand up for what he believes in. And this is what he did on Friday night knowing he would ruffle a few feathers in the sporting fraternity.

In betwixt his tales of how he got to where he was, and what had driven him to succeed, Steve touched on the subject of sports personalities and their responsibilities as role models. He pulled no punches in lambasting those who take sponsorship from fast-food companies. Steve asked what message are these people/teams sending in a society where obesity, especially among children, is becoming an increasing epidemic? No specific names were mentioned here, but you could tell everyone in the audience immediately thought of Sarah Ulmer's relationship with McDonalds and the deal between Burgerking and the NZ Breakers. It could have been my imagination but all of a sudden the room went just a little quieter. Steve Gurney also took issue with sports stars that have ended up in Court after late night altercations in bars ... again a small chill filled the room (particularly from the rugby tables). Steve mentioned no names, but then he didn't have to as everyone knew who he was talking about. (in fact even I've talked about one in this blog before ... Incidentally he was done again for a similar offence just a few weeks ago)

My impression was that there was a level of discomfort within the room at the issues he was raising. In a way I guess this is fair enough on the sponsorship issue. Athletes have a bloody tough time in this country getting sponsorship and I guess it would be bloody tough for someone to turn down a deal on a moral issue such as that. Hell, if the makers of EPO can sponsor a cycle race can we be too harsh on someone that accepts a few dollars from a purveyor of junkfood?

Still his point about personal behaviour was a good one, and possibly it's something sports organisations (particular for those involving predominantly male competitors) have failed to address satisfactorily. Rugby and rugby league spring to mind as prime culprits in this regard. Their litany of players in those codes disgraced over incidents involving drunkenness, assault, sexual misdemeanours and the like is well documented.

Though it's interesting to note we rarely have such scandals involving our female sports stars. Perhaps the boys need to grow up a bit?

Motorcade Redux

On Thursday the civilian driver convicted of dangerous driving in Prime Minister Helen Clark's now infamous motorcade between Waimate and Christchurch was back in court. He along with two police officers was convicted in August for his role in the incident. However he's the only member of the trio seeking to get the conviction overturned. His lawyer Johnathan Eaton made submissions on his behalf in a four and a half hour hearing before Justice Cooper at the High Court in Timaru.

As with all such appeals the appellant has to prove the sentencing judge (in this case District Court Judge John Strettell) made an error of law when he imposed the conviction and sentence. Johnathon Eaton challenged the Judge's ruling on several points, which I'll try to outline.

One of his key attacks was against the way Judge Strettell treated the defendants in the District Court when handing down the sentences. Under NZ law when there are a group of defendants the Judge, or jury, are obliged to treat them individually when considering their cases. The sentence has to be based on evidence that pertains to each individual and evidence used against one can not be applied against another unless it has relevance. Johnathan Eaton's argument is that the Judge failed to do this for the civilian driver and instead treated all the three defendants in the same manner. In his view the Judge erred in assessing the culpability of his client and had he done it correctly the civilian driver would have been discharged without conviction.

The key here is culpability. In Johnathan Eaton's view his client's culpability was less, compared to that of the police. It was pointed out the civilian driver was following the lead car which was responsible for undertaking the passing maneuvers which were deemed by the Court to have posed an undue and unnecessary risk. Jonathan Eaton said the lead car cleared the road so that the second vehicle, driven by his client, actually posed no danger to other traffic as the road was already clear. Thus the civilian driver's actions had a significantly lower impact. Furthermore he argued the police were in charge of the motorcade and the civilian driver was acting according to their directions. He even had the police officer, who was in charge of the motorcade, sitting next to him giving tacit approval to his actions (as a quick aside Johnathan Eaton did not extend the tacit approval to the Prime Minister as has been reported in the newspapers). As far as the driver was aware he was acting appropriately and it would complete unrealistic to expect that he would have expressed concern at the situation and pulled the car (containing the PM) over and refused to have driven. Eaton also focused on Judge Strettell's sentencing remarks which estimated the average speed of the motorcade was at least 150 km/hr. He maintained Judge Strettell's figure did not fit the evidence provided by witnesses at the trial which put the average speed, in his view, at 140-145 km/hr. This, he said, meant the Judge had not sentenced his client on the evidence at hand.

The police, through prosecutor Tim Gresson, countered by saying the elements of dangerous driving had been amply proved at the trial and once proved there can be no defence to dangerous driving. Tim Gresson referred to the civilian driver's expertise, and 30 years of experience maintaining a person with such a background had the necessary knowledge not to have taken the actions that he did. In response to the criticism of the trial Judge not applying individual assessments for each defendant Tim Gresson said it had been established at the trial that all three defendants had acted in a similar fashion, through their driving and so were equally culpable. He pointed out this element hadn't been challenged by the defence during the original trial.

Tim Gresson also iterated the failure of any of the parties, both the police and the civilian driver, to question the need for the motorcade to travel at such speed. Had they done so, he said, they would not have found themselves in the predicament they ended up in. Tim Gresson also quoted from a Court of Appeal decision which set the legal precedent that following orders is not a legal defence if the result of following such orders results in an unlawful act.

Those matters aside there were some other interesting points that came up during the proceedings. One of significance is that the written defence submissions presented to Justice Cooper included a letter from prime Minister Helen Clark. Its details were not read in open court so I can't say what was in the letter. However traditionally such material is in support of the appellant. It'd be safe to assume that in this case the Prime Minister has made a representation on behalf of her driver.

Another issue that was canvassed by Johnathan Eaton was the impact the conviction and its resulting publicity has had on the driver. Now this man has been granted permanent name suppression so Justice Cooper did query that given this was the case how could the publicity affect the appellant? Eaton's submission was that his client's identity was well known in both media and diplomatic circles leading to him being identified at official events as "that speeding motorcade driver". It was something he argued had a significant impact on the man's ability to do his job and as a result he'd seriously considered quitting. It pays to bear in mind the ministerial drivers transport both Government and leading opposition MP's. When you factor in the political capital the opposition made about the affair it's fair to say the driver ends up in a somewhat invidious position in situations where he has to drive someone like Don Brash or Rodney Hide. It can't be a pleasant situation to sit in a car with politicians who have used you as a political football to further their own ends.

The appeal is now waiting on a decision from Justice Cooper. There's no word as to when it will be released though it's been promised, by the Judge, that it'll be given high priority.

Do You Ever Get the Feeling That We Are All Fucked?

I'm sorry to keep harping on about avian flu but this press release (see below) put out by the Ministry of Health this week deserves a bit of a critique. When you read it bear in mind the Ministry has spent millions preparing NZ for an epidemic and that we're regarded as one of the best prepared countries in the world.

This is part of a release was put out on behalf of the Director of Public Health, Dr Mark Jacobs on the 20th of October.

Personal hygiene measures that all New Zealanders can take will form a crucial part of helping to reduce the risk of influenza infection. At a community level, there are simple, practical measures families and individuals can take to help themselves, in the event of a pandemic. These are: regular handwashing using soap, remembering to dry hands thoroughly afterwards covering your cough or sneeze with a tissue and safely disposing of the used tissue in a bin avoiding contact with others if you are sick, and staying home from work to reduce the risk of passing on the infection making sure you have enough food and water in the house to keep going if you become sick and can't get out to the shops. Plan for about a week's worth of supplies having a supply of paracetamol in the house to reduce fevers in people who are sick.

So what he's saying is: use a tissue, wash your hands, and take a disprin. I feel so much safer and better prepared now. Hell, that's the same sort of advice my grandmother would have given me, except at least she would have added chicken soup to the list. I wonder how many millions of dollars they spent to come up with that handy list of advice.

Further in the release Dr Jacobs says the Government has spent 26 million dollars to buy 850,000 doses of Tamiflu. This will be enough to treat 21 percent of the population. Which is all well and good for the lucky 21 percent although not so flash for the remaining 79 percent of us. And as this study points out general infection rates from influenza in a non-pandemic year are around 20 percent of the population. That suggests a pandemic will infect more (figures being bandied about suggest around 30 percent) meaning we still won't have enough Tamiflu to treat everyone. Even then there's no guarantee it'll work.

So here we have out health authorities telling us everything is in hand and under control. I'd really like to know what the clinicians are thinking. You know the people that will be taking care of us when, and if, the shit hits the fan. I wonder if they're of the same opinion as this Australian physician. If he's to be believed we are totally screwed as there's no way our hospital systems can cope with a pandemic of the size that's being talked about.

Those of you with health insurance are probably sniggering right now thinking you're home and free. I've got news for you, you're not. The official word from the Health Insurers Association of NZ is that only a tiny minority of people with health insurance have the type of cover that will provide private healthcare if they come down with bird flu. The sad fact is the spiralling cost of health insurance means the vast majority of people with policies are only covered for surgery.

I Don't Get It.

A German backpacker is murdered in Taranaki and we get saturation coverage in every paper, every radio station, and every news bulletin for a fortnight.

Meanwhile in Christchurch a 43 year old man is beaten to death while walking home from a party late at night. He gets barely a mention in the media and doesn't even rate a story on TV news.

Isn't it amazing the differing values we put on a human life? Is the message that if the victim is a woman, and there's been some suggestion of a sexual attack, that it's more important, or somehow more significant?

Now onto a different matter entirely. I ran into a friend today who'd had the good fortune to hear a speech given by Crusaders Coach Robbie Deans to staff from a local radio station at some sort of team-building exercise they were having. One thing that stuck in his mind was the live for the moment, grasp every opportunity, message Deans put across. The example he gave was this:

"Imagine full time is almost up, there's time for one, maybe two more plays. Your opponents are five metres from your goal line, they have a howling southerly at their back, a six point lead and the ball is in their possession. From the breakdown they play the ball to Jonah Lomu who charges for the line. What do you do?

For many they'd say; that's it; we're doomed; and play defensively and probably lose. But what you do is you target your man, make the tackle and make sure you get the ball first. Then you put it through the hands and get it down the other end as quickly as possible, score and win the game.

Remember the opposition, when they're on attack and just short of your line, well the last thing on their mind will be the possibility that their own goal line is in danger"

The interesting point being that in the season the Crusaders introduced this philosophy they scored 45% of their tries from turnover ball. Glass half full indeed!