It has been revealed that Auckland will soon be super sized and pro activated under a new accord based loosely upon the fine print contained within our recent Chinese Free Trade Agreement. Since the world's best capitalists have all clearly turned out to be communist, and the world's biggest capitalists are now all socialist, this can only be a good thing. That tremendous democratically-proactive trio of Jaykay, Banksie and Rodney Super Hide, (yellow-jacketed bossanova to the stars) have finally unfettered our magnificent yet somewhat super-leaky Super City from the developmental shackles of democracy and consultation.
It has been advised that quarrelsome and somewhat recalcitrant tall poppy Taiwan-style Mayor from over the bridge, Andrew What's-his-face, has been gently captured and sent on a sister-city tour to the outer regions of Tibet. Here he will undergo a re-education program based on the gentle testicular cattle prod diplomacy for which our Chinese trade partners are so well renowned. Yes, they don't call it Party Central for nothing. Surprisingly some citizens in the outer regions of the proposed co-prosperity sphere have expressed concerns over being controlled by a bunch of useless Vicky Ave pseuds. Hordes of disgruntled ratepayers from the Southernmost Cantons of Auckland, wishing to express their dissatisfaction with Auckland's new Cultural Revolution, surged into the central confines of our poorly insulated Supercity yesterday. Too stupid to find even a simple motorway off-ramp, the suspicious South Aucklanders remain locked and lost just beyond the outskirts of Mt Albert.
Clearly this is all to the good, since central city parking is difficult at the best of times.
The Greens of course, have not taken all this lying down. Furiously pedaling back to their shared flat in Mt Eden, they hastily tabled and debated a stringent set of non-binding resolutions which clearly outline their unrelenting yet passive objections to the proposed uber-accord. This raft of gentle yet helpful resolutions, steering well clear of the difficult ecological concepts of natural capital, peak oil theory and carbon usage philosophies, are instead centered around hemp, recycled bicycles tyres, transcendental meditation and new recipes for hash cookies. Thinking globally and acting locally, they were unable to decide whether they supported a referendum on local democracy or not. Originally intending to rush their super-tome straight back in to Super Jafa Central, it would seem that the weighty recycled document, printed entirely on recycled election pamphlets, lays forgotten and discarded beneath Nandor Tanzos' hubbly bubbly. This may be a good thing since, although the frank yet honest string of non-binding resolutions seemed brilliant at the time, clear light of day revealed them to be the incoherent ramblings of some bickering old hippies, totally full of crap.
Ah yes, reply the Greenies, but many good things grow from crap.
The Labour Party, friends of the diminishing pool of working class New Zillanders, has proposed a new referendum; "To what degree, as part of good governance, should Rodney Hide be smacked bodily and about the face with democracy and consultation?". Labour heavy weight Parekura Horomia, former Associate Minister for Lots of Things, has proposed that to fight this assault on local democracy, Labour box on with the formation of a new fish and chips brigade. Phil Goff has promised that, should Labour ever get in again, they promise to hold many Commissions of Inquiry should anything further sort of, well you know, go wrong.
That veritable Sun Yat-Sen of Auckland, Chairman Banksie has been quick to extol the virtues of Asian businesses. I mean its not as if the heart of our good city died or anything. Noting that the new breed of businesses often pay less GST, PAYE and FBT than their slower witted Kiwi counterparts, we also should appreciate that China has much faster intranet speeds, Chairman Banksie has hinted that many of the new Supercity bureaucrats may actually be Aucklanders.
Meanwhile, the Job Summit has produced a plethora of job-saving ideas. Mainly, that we import container loads of Chinese-made spoons. Teams of Wellington based consultant economists have suggested that, by using these Chinese made spoons to dig the new cycling superhighway, we will create employment and still get to use the containers they came in to house recalcitrant local politicians.
Overly-qualified Dr Pita Sharples has urged that, in an effort to avoid the wastelands of apartheid experienced in other countries, we should ethnically cleanse our Super City Governance from any overly evil vestiges of that awful remnant of imperialist colonialism - the Westminster democratic system. Sharples urges that Maori should not only be no longer required to meet any sort of standard in entering our university education system, and may soon suggest that they should no longer be required to meet any sort of standard to graduate and get out. This should further level the great playing fields of education in our great quasi-economy.
In separate news Chairman Banksie has allegedly hinted that Victoria Park is soon to be re designated as a massive parking zone for Hong Kong based Wilson Parking. Wilson Parking, commended for its standards in fighting corruption to the very core of its directorship, has utterly denied any such plans. Parking zones are as we all know, far less profitable than the soaring towers of leaky and poorly insulated P-Labs that now constitute Auckland city's bustling adhocracy. Fisher and Paykel, now partly owned by Chinese interests, are to commence an extremely loud vibrating range of washing machines all to be auctioned off through Trade-Me.
Also just to hand direct from Party Central, tourists from a cruise liner returned from their Queen Street shopping spree, laden with Asian made Maori tiki and discounted taonga, only to find that their cruise liner had in fact been towed away. Chairman Banksie has suggested that the tourists, though somewhat disappointed, may have to wait for the next series of Fair Go to claim their cruise liner back.
Rest assured fellow Jafas - our democratic institutions, resting comfortably as they do on the toredo worm-infested piles of democratic consultation, are probably still in good hands.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Build A Bridge and Get Over It
Recent research indicates that a bunch of discarded stones found in an old field somewhere are conclusive proof that Polynesians were once ruled by some kind of Celtic master race. Although actual hard and fast evidence is yet to be tabled, experts all agree that there is no conceivable way in which ancient Polynesians, renowned for their world class feats of sea navigation, warfare and oral mastery, could possibly have randomly positioned a bunch of hoary old stones in the forgotten corner of a field somewhere.
Ancient oral culture has been unable to defend itself against this well respected and loosely documented ideology, coming as it does from the sustained ramblings of some crazed old hippy who, by sheer coincidence, happens to have been derived himself from a distantly Celtic background. This same man, now incoherent and well into his last bottle of sherry, has also postulated that the magnificent Zimbabwe fort, though positioned squarely in the middle of Africa, must surely be evidence of wandering lost Jewish tribes as distantly mentioned in somebody's version of the bible, which he has never actually read, or wandering Aryans who, having raced half way across the world, needed to suddenly stop and build a big old fort in the middle of nowhere just before they rapidly disappeared up the annals of time.
Ancient Polynesian cultures were cute and interesting yet nowadays seem somewhat limited in cultural acceptance. Certainly the younger generations of Iwi find it increasingly difficult to maintain their belief in ancient mythical tales of demi-gods, magical abilities, heavenly and worldly inter-travel and rampant blood-lust compared to the steadfast and more truthful European histories of Jesus Christ, King Arthur, Robin Hood and Santa Claus. Nevertheless Maori are making steady progress towards technological civilisation to the point where they actually sometimes buy into these rapidly drying pools of British colonial heritage, especially the tales of Robin Hood who was indeed a really nice generous guy, despite his noted habit of robbing and murdering people.
Maori Iwi are also notoriously and fracticiously tribal and warlike. This does not bode well compared to the noble array of Saxons, Jutes, Romans, Ancient Britains, Celts, Vikings and Norman French that underpin the unified Britain of today. It is clear that Maori tend to bicker amongst themselves and need to learn from their European colonisers, the British, Scottish, Welsh and Irish who always get along so well togethor and hardly ever argue, nestled as they are away in their seperate little parliaments, rarely harbouring resentment despite the messy and protracted intertribal linguistic wars that are hopefully now drawing to a slow and painful close. Clearly Maori lacked the technological abilities of these varied yet unified uber-races, and after Maori stupidly laid their guns down some 130 years ago, they have failed to push on and learn from the continuation of superior and more technological European violence, extending from the mass encampment of innocent civilians in the Boer War, a neat little town square massacre in India, Spanish Civil War, deadly conflicts centered on mass extermination in France and Belgium, which by the way seemed to disappointingly escalate into 2 world wars (one of them global), the resultant miserable and soulless extermination of Poles and Jews, the firebombing of innocent civilians in London and Berlin with the inevitable utter desolation of Russia as we know it, terminating with the nuclear annihilation of the Japanese at Hiroshima (who used to be our allies), and on through the sectarian religious tribal viciousness of the troubles in Northern Ireland (of which Britain effectively seemed to completely wash her hands), mass ethnic exterminations throughout Bosnia and Serbia (who used to be our allies), threatened nuclear conflicts with the Russians (also once our allies), and a minor yet somewhat entertaining side-scuffle with Argentina over a couple of windswept old islets which only a hobbled collection of remote and hairy old inbred farmers could ever give a tinker's cuss about. Oh and of course the oil wars. Whereas most Maori conflicts seemed to be over pathetic things such as food resources, territorial domination and survival, European conflicts have mostly held far loftier and noble causes, including, but not limited to, "the war to end all wars" (see World Wars I and II) and the spread of freedom, measles, civilisation and democracy, normally by brutally killing people.
Clearly these Maori, though entertaining at barbecues, are a violent, belligerent people whose former treachery must forever be held in suspicion.
Maori need to move on from the past, and stop living in the past, whilst never for a moment forgetting that they are all actually derived from wild savages. These radical Maori should really stop deriding the rapidly drying pools of British colonial sub-culture when it is well known that, if not for the heroic efforts of British medicine they would surely have all died from the brutal and tidal onslaught of disease and pestilence as brought over by the early fleets of thoughtful and caring Christian real-estate agents. The cannibal thing can be forgiven, but never forgotten, and it needs to brought up pretty much anytime these radical Maori latch onto any sort of valid political point. Interestingly Lacey and Danzinger in the No 1 bestseller "The Year 1000", a clever snapshot of life in England at the time, mention on page 183, "there were horrendous famines (in England) which forced men into cannibalism..." Shocking isn't it? Clearly this seems to suggest that in or around the Year 1000 AD Maori cannibals somehow embarked by canoe or Polynesian pirogue, navigated across distant voids, against tidal current and prevailing wind, found their way right unto the distant corners of Europe, disembarked upon the soft sandy shores of Albion and then proceeded to systematically and greedily feast themselves upon the innocent and unsuspecting carcasses of civilised English children.
They certainly had an uncanny maritime ability didn't they?
Thank goodness Maori are all Christians now and can instead focus on all that I am the blood of Christ stuff.
Maori also need to stop reminding us about that silly old treaty. Yes we wrote the scratchy old thing; made the promises; guided the trembling hands of various noble ariki over the burnished parchment; paid the glass beads; meticulously recorded it all, and then somehow failed to deliver on certain key central terms. It may be easy to stand there and say, "You stupid plonkers" - but through constantly reminding us about it you are becoming fractitious and somewhat annoying. Just because you were here first does not mean that you cannot share. Just build a bridge and jolly well get over it. Stop living in the past. Even though you are historically warlike tribal cannibals at heart. If those Europeans had not arrived, grabbed most of the land, cut it free from the developmental bugbears of rahui and rohe, chopped down all the trees, covered it over in sheep grazing and pine forest, polluted all the waterways and then leeched the land to the point where it is no longer good for anything bar residential subdivision by bankrupt white-shooed property developers from Queensland, we could never have brought the hallowed and intellectually advanced Western concept of ecological conservation and restoration that is now rapidly overtaking our good nation.
It has been a long and somewhat circular road for we Tauiwi.
Tainui, that noble race of fierce and proud warriors, have utterly failed to recognize just how flash we Pakeha can often be. For years they resisted giving up the whenua - even when we introduced them to the concept of limited yet ineffectual democracy, when King Dick Seddon horse-traded the power to vote, ring-fenced by the Maori electoral system, in order to get more land. Still they were slow in chasing that magnificent yet somewhat elusive white mirage. We, the Pakeha, then further encouraged their civilisation and development, coupled with the ability to get our hands on more land, by holding back construction of hospitals and schools in the Tainui region, forbidding the use of their language in public, and jolly well letting them know that they should be thankful that they were not colonised by South Africans or something. Or even worse, and God forbid, by those annoying French people, with their complicated concepts of fashion, cuisine, artistic endeavour, social housing, universal education, social equality, health schemes, amazing variety of perfumes and aftershaves, world class cellars of wine, focus on quality, beautiful table manners, furniture, pensive architecture, massively strong unit of currency, scientific and intellectual endeavour, concepts of beauty, beautiful design, delicious mayonnaise and the uncanny ability to dress astoundingly well in the morning. Maori today may find themselves penniless, asthmatic, unemployed, badly dressed and living in partially insulated leaky homes but at least we have introduced them to meat pies, marmite sandwiches and the superior technological advantages of no8 wire.
Their steadfast refusal to acknowledge the only partially debunked myth of Moriori (MoriOri? Maruiwi? hoary moris?), a small statured race of dark skinned space invaders, who obviously arrived just after the boatloads of flax- haired Celtic Kings, is bloody annoying to say the least. Obviously these people did exist, since we have renamed them so many times. As did the Tchakat Rekohu.
Putting it bluntly Maori just need to buck up. Like their friendly British-based intruders, they need to formulate wordy European-type verbal and ideological constructs which launch far up into the air soaring high up and away right over (and barely recognising) the relevant facts or detail pertaining to the historical issues of the time.
So let's just bloody well build a bridge and get over it.
(Editor's note; only joking)
Ancient oral culture has been unable to defend itself against this well respected and loosely documented ideology, coming as it does from the sustained ramblings of some crazed old hippy who, by sheer coincidence, happens to have been derived himself from a distantly Celtic background. This same man, now incoherent and well into his last bottle of sherry, has also postulated that the magnificent Zimbabwe fort, though positioned squarely in the middle of Africa, must surely be evidence of wandering lost Jewish tribes as distantly mentioned in somebody's version of the bible, which he has never actually read, or wandering Aryans who, having raced half way across the world, needed to suddenly stop and build a big old fort in the middle of nowhere just before they rapidly disappeared up the annals of time.
Ancient Polynesian cultures were cute and interesting yet nowadays seem somewhat limited in cultural acceptance. Certainly the younger generations of Iwi find it increasingly difficult to maintain their belief in ancient mythical tales of demi-gods, magical abilities, heavenly and worldly inter-travel and rampant blood-lust compared to the steadfast and more truthful European histories of Jesus Christ, King Arthur, Robin Hood and Santa Claus. Nevertheless Maori are making steady progress towards technological civilisation to the point where they actually sometimes buy into these rapidly drying pools of British colonial heritage, especially the tales of Robin Hood who was indeed a really nice generous guy, despite his noted habit of robbing and murdering people.
Maori Iwi are also notoriously and fracticiously tribal and warlike. This does not bode well compared to the noble array of Saxons, Jutes, Romans, Ancient Britains, Celts, Vikings and Norman French that underpin the unified Britain of today. It is clear that Maori tend to bicker amongst themselves and need to learn from their European colonisers, the British, Scottish, Welsh and Irish who always get along so well togethor and hardly ever argue, nestled as they are away in their seperate little parliaments, rarely harbouring resentment despite the messy and protracted intertribal linguistic wars that are hopefully now drawing to a slow and painful close. Clearly Maori lacked the technological abilities of these varied yet unified uber-races, and after Maori stupidly laid their guns down some 130 years ago, they have failed to push on and learn from the continuation of superior and more technological European violence, extending from the mass encampment of innocent civilians in the Boer War, a neat little town square massacre in India, Spanish Civil War, deadly conflicts centered on mass extermination in France and Belgium, which by the way seemed to disappointingly escalate into 2 world wars (one of them global), the resultant miserable and soulless extermination of Poles and Jews, the firebombing of innocent civilians in London and Berlin with the inevitable utter desolation of Russia as we know it, terminating with the nuclear annihilation of the Japanese at Hiroshima (who used to be our allies), and on through the sectarian religious tribal viciousness of the troubles in Northern Ireland (of which Britain effectively seemed to completely wash her hands), mass ethnic exterminations throughout Bosnia and Serbia (who used to be our allies), threatened nuclear conflicts with the Russians (also once our allies), and a minor yet somewhat entertaining side-scuffle with Argentina over a couple of windswept old islets which only a hobbled collection of remote and hairy old inbred farmers could ever give a tinker's cuss about. Oh and of course the oil wars. Whereas most Maori conflicts seemed to be over pathetic things such as food resources, territorial domination and survival, European conflicts have mostly held far loftier and noble causes, including, but not limited to, "the war to end all wars" (see World Wars I and II) and the spread of freedom, measles, civilisation and democracy, normally by brutally killing people.
Clearly these Maori, though entertaining at barbecues, are a violent, belligerent people whose former treachery must forever be held in suspicion.
Maori need to move on from the past, and stop living in the past, whilst never for a moment forgetting that they are all actually derived from wild savages. These radical Maori should really stop deriding the rapidly drying pools of British colonial sub-culture when it is well known that, if not for the heroic efforts of British medicine they would surely have all died from the brutal and tidal onslaught of disease and pestilence as brought over by the early fleets of thoughtful and caring Christian real-estate agents. The cannibal thing can be forgiven, but never forgotten, and it needs to brought up pretty much anytime these radical Maori latch onto any sort of valid political point. Interestingly Lacey and Danzinger in the No 1 bestseller "The Year 1000", a clever snapshot of life in England at the time, mention on page 183, "there were horrendous famines (in England) which forced men into cannibalism..." Shocking isn't it? Clearly this seems to suggest that in or around the Year 1000 AD Maori cannibals somehow embarked by canoe or Polynesian pirogue, navigated across distant voids, against tidal current and prevailing wind, found their way right unto the distant corners of Europe, disembarked upon the soft sandy shores of Albion and then proceeded to systematically and greedily feast themselves upon the innocent and unsuspecting carcasses of civilised English children.
They certainly had an uncanny maritime ability didn't they?
Thank goodness Maori are all Christians now and can instead focus on all that I am the blood of Christ stuff.
Maori also need to stop reminding us about that silly old treaty. Yes we wrote the scratchy old thing; made the promises; guided the trembling hands of various noble ariki over the burnished parchment; paid the glass beads; meticulously recorded it all, and then somehow failed to deliver on certain key central terms. It may be easy to stand there and say, "You stupid plonkers" - but through constantly reminding us about it you are becoming fractitious and somewhat annoying. Just because you were here first does not mean that you cannot share. Just build a bridge and jolly well get over it. Stop living in the past. Even though you are historically warlike tribal cannibals at heart. If those Europeans had not arrived, grabbed most of the land, cut it free from the developmental bugbears of rahui and rohe, chopped down all the trees, covered it over in sheep grazing and pine forest, polluted all the waterways and then leeched the land to the point where it is no longer good for anything bar residential subdivision by bankrupt white-shooed property developers from Queensland, we could never have brought the hallowed and intellectually advanced Western concept of ecological conservation and restoration that is now rapidly overtaking our good nation.
It has been a long and somewhat circular road for we Tauiwi.
Tainui, that noble race of fierce and proud warriors, have utterly failed to recognize just how flash we Pakeha can often be. For years they resisted giving up the whenua - even when we introduced them to the concept of limited yet ineffectual democracy, when King Dick Seddon horse-traded the power to vote, ring-fenced by the Maori electoral system, in order to get more land. Still they were slow in chasing that magnificent yet somewhat elusive white mirage. We, the Pakeha, then further encouraged their civilisation and development, coupled with the ability to get our hands on more land, by holding back construction of hospitals and schools in the Tainui region, forbidding the use of their language in public, and jolly well letting them know that they should be thankful that they were not colonised by South Africans or something. Or even worse, and God forbid, by those annoying French people, with their complicated concepts of fashion, cuisine, artistic endeavour, social housing, universal education, social equality, health schemes, amazing variety of perfumes and aftershaves, world class cellars of wine, focus on quality, beautiful table manners, furniture, pensive architecture, massively strong unit of currency, scientific and intellectual endeavour, concepts of beauty, beautiful design, delicious mayonnaise and the uncanny ability to dress astoundingly well in the morning. Maori today may find themselves penniless, asthmatic, unemployed, badly dressed and living in partially insulated leaky homes but at least we have introduced them to meat pies, marmite sandwiches and the superior technological advantages of no8 wire.
Their steadfast refusal to acknowledge the only partially debunked myth of Moriori (MoriOri? Maruiwi? hoary moris?), a small statured race of dark skinned space invaders, who obviously arrived just after the boatloads of flax- haired Celtic Kings, is bloody annoying to say the least. Obviously these people did exist, since we have renamed them so many times. As did the Tchakat Rekohu.
Putting it bluntly Maori just need to buck up. Like their friendly British-based intruders, they need to formulate wordy European-type verbal and ideological constructs which launch far up into the air soaring high up and away right over (and barely recognising) the relevant facts or detail pertaining to the historical issues of the time.
So let's just bloody well build a bridge and get over it.
(Editor's note; only joking)
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Job Hunting in Jafa Central - Tips for the Emotionally Redundant.
Now that the Communists are the best Capitalists, and the leading Capitalists have all turned Socialist, finding a job can be difficult and confusing on New Zilland's tremendously level playing fields. To this end I have pieced togethor the following tract of brilliance to help you better understand the Kiwi employment psyche, thoroughly wrapped up as it is in intellectual No8 wire.
Grab a cold beer now lest you get too mentally caught up in all of this.
(Over)qualifications - one of the biggest bugbears in this city today is the spurious growth of the annoyingly over-qualified professional. We need team players in this country, not overly opinionated know-it-all Nellies - we already have enough people fully qualified in that particular area - Rodney Hide, John Banks and that weird mayor over the bridge (Andrew something?) all spring immediately to mind. Overqualified people tend to upset team spirit by setting high personal standards and frankly we have no need of this kind of tall-poppy syndrome around here. No, we much prefer barely literate semi-qualified proactive people speckled within a clever chiaroscuro of well connected has-beens, powerless yet delusional management, Directors' nephews and driving it all, from every corner of every back office in this Supercity, qualified yet part-time mums.
Overseas of course, people do tend to fall into this trap, and I am sure in London they would no doubt simply employ the best qualified people for any particular role. Quel recipe pour disastre! Fortunately here in NZ, snuggling amidst our poorly insulated and slightly leaky homes, we cling steadfastly to more of a No.8 wire philosophy in doing everything ourselves, pushing back the growing hordes of embarrassingly over-qualified professionals and focusing bravely on the big picture by not getting overly lost in the spurious detail of it all. Little wonder we have always seemed to cleverly sneak in well below that radar of excellence.
Proactivity - be proactive and bung this word into your resume as quick as a wink. It can be difficult to be proactive at times, since to the best of my knowledge nobody actually has a hard and fast grasp on what this actually means. As far as I can make out, it means something like "being active before you have actually begun being active", presumably in a tremendously active and overtly energetic fashion. Sales and Marketing people do it all the time. Overqualified foreigners simply do not grasp this; little wonder that they find it so hard to fit in here. Do you fly about the office making things happen before anyone is even vaguely ready for it? Congratulations, we need you now or possibly even before now, for example sometime last Tuesday.
We should note that the more proactive of proactivists seem to engage in strenuous activity even before any proactivity has been mentally envisaged, much less physically activated, so jolly good show on that front. Good on them for showing up the slower and better qualified professionals with their dreary and endless focus on spurious detail and their telling failure to fully grasp the big old picture.
State Your Qualifications Simply - Remember that the older generations have no particular understanding and much less interest in this new fan dangled NCEA system. Even writing about the NCEA prompts the eyes to glaze over and all we truly know is that origami somehow gains you extra curricular points. Apparently it's all about being a team player and not upsetting other people, especially the teachers who no longer want to be weighed down during their extended holiday periods by writing reports or marking exams. That's all we need to know, well that and the fact that you happen to be the Director's nephew, so just don't not bore us with any spurious detail. Talk about the cricket, focus on the big picture and remember, there are whole fleets of taxi-driving Iranian brain surgeons, Indian nuclear physicists and Egyptian mathematicians out there. Moreover order fries virtually anywhere in this good city and you will be rapidly served by well qualified Media Studies graduates, many from Selwyn College, nestled like small poppies within noble fields of honours graduates in such rapidly diverging fields as Conflict Resolution, Lesbian Break Dancing (you get free trips on this one) or Champagne Socialist Constructivism.
Where did a university education ever get David Bain? Or for that matter Christine Rankin who cleverly fixed up her own employment situation by focusing on dysfunctional Maori families, whilst admittedly coming from an abusive Pakeha family herself. Jolly good show. In not overtly focusing on her own issues and telling it like it is about others, we can all happily get back to smacking the living crap out of our youngsters because, hey, it never did me any harm (apart from the mild dyslexia and blurry vision that I am experiencing right at this moment). Nothing wrong with a good old smack on the fufu, and once again JK has brilliantly steered away from any overly qualified pools of talent by directly honing in on the rapidly diminishing, yet avidly proactive, hardly-qualified-at-all individuals and paying them well over $1,000 an hour to lead us straight out of this nasty old recession, despite her glaringly obvious record of financial mismanagement. If you are a middle-aged woman and wanting to get anywhere in this country it would pay to invest in a really good set of baubly earrings and please do lower that cleavage lest someone thinks you are not sexy and serious enough.
Certainly one would would never get this kind of level playing field overseas.
French? Don't be. It's been a tough old rugby season and frankly we won't be needing any more reminding of it until well after the next RWC semi-final.
Do Not Stare Directors Directly in the Eye - Directors in this city have endured decades of power outages, Australasianisations, the fluctuating Kiwi, Chinese manufacturing, Japanese Eurodashis, cleverly duplicitous Free Trade Agreements and even the rapidly emerging fact that nobody understands how Kiwi Saver works any more - even the overqualified argumentative foreign dude down in the far cubicle. These Directors, relentlessly urging on flocks of recalcitrant proactivists, simply do not have time for your personal baggage, so stow it. The bulk of Kiwi Directors are in fact mildly psychotic and may well crack when you stare them down. That guy floating around the harbour in a suitcase - actually a jovial mineral water vendor, so please do be warned.
Accents - thank goodness we don't even have one which is an amazingly blessed situation to be in when you consider that we are in fact the only quasi-nation on this earth,and certainly the only within the Southern Hemisphere, to have no trace of any accent at all. This can be a difficult situation to find ourselves in since other English speaking accents (and frankly who even cares about the rest of the world) are rapidly diverging away with their weirdo accents to the point where they somehow find it difficult to actually understand ours, eh.
I just can't believe that the Australians, the Irish and the Canadians have actually fallen into this trap but there you go, many nations have not been as proactive as us on this front and obviously their furious focus on the boring old detail has led them far astray. I think this has been one of the differentiating points between us and those Australians with their sad old delusions of adequacy because, in having no trace of any discernible accent, we are far less parochial and not at all one-eyed like they are. There they go again, relentlessly sucked deep into the whirlpool of endless comparison between the two countries - I mean really who cares?
Overseas Experience - this is a difficult one posing as it does endless comparisons between Kiwis and the Australians. Clearly any overseas experience undergone in the UK can only be a good thing as it raises standards, whereas years spent in Australia tend to suggest parochialism and the fact that our quasi-economy has indeed failed, also that you are a deserter who was foolish enough to come back and you probably deserve to be shot. This being said overseas qualified people are clearly more valuable than Kiwi graduates as they have far more authority and less student loans to pay off, so this is why, as our best doctors, engineers, scientists,teachers and nurses all desert the country in droves they have been steadily replaced by higher-paid yet at times overly-qualified foreigners.
I think somehow those Aussies are jealous over the fact that we opened our markets up years ago, rapidly leveled all playing fields and have long jumped the hurdle of vapid colonialist mental paralysis.
Cricket - are you a hopeless and dysfunctional loser? Just learn about cricket and people will find a use for you. Even if you have no actual knowledge of cricket, try mumbling vague things about the new ball during the interview and just see how popular you become. Crowds of people will push through the door of the boardroom, mill about you, and your promised googling of scores and statistics will inspire and invigorate the entire management team.
We are incredibly on top of things in this country, despite being clearly at the bottom of the world.
The recession only started through the deluded pipe dreams of some drug-crazed Hedge Fund Manager so thank goodness we have one of the best Hedge Fund Managers of all time to inspire us and lead us straight out of this financial quagmire.
Finally, in summation, and chiefly due to the fact that my beer has now been fully drained, I conclude that finding a job is super tough right now in the super city, so super suck it in. I trust this missive has shed some light up your tunnel and just remember, in New Zilland it's not what you know that really counts - it's more what you don't know.
kiaora.
Grab a cold beer now lest you get too mentally caught up in all of this.
(Over)qualifications - one of the biggest bugbears in this city today is the spurious growth of the annoyingly over-qualified professional. We need team players in this country, not overly opinionated know-it-all Nellies - we already have enough people fully qualified in that particular area - Rodney Hide, John Banks and that weird mayor over the bridge (Andrew something?) all spring immediately to mind. Overqualified people tend to upset team spirit by setting high personal standards and frankly we have no need of this kind of tall-poppy syndrome around here. No, we much prefer barely literate semi-qualified proactive people speckled within a clever chiaroscuro of well connected has-beens, powerless yet delusional management, Directors' nephews and driving it all, from every corner of every back office in this Supercity, qualified yet part-time mums.
Overseas of course, people do tend to fall into this trap, and I am sure in London they would no doubt simply employ the best qualified people for any particular role. Quel recipe pour disastre! Fortunately here in NZ, snuggling amidst our poorly insulated and slightly leaky homes, we cling steadfastly to more of a No.8 wire philosophy in doing everything ourselves, pushing back the growing hordes of embarrassingly over-qualified professionals and focusing bravely on the big picture by not getting overly lost in the spurious detail of it all. Little wonder we have always seemed to cleverly sneak in well below that radar of excellence.
Proactivity - be proactive and bung this word into your resume as quick as a wink. It can be difficult to be proactive at times, since to the best of my knowledge nobody actually has a hard and fast grasp on what this actually means. As far as I can make out, it means something like "being active before you have actually begun being active", presumably in a tremendously active and overtly energetic fashion. Sales and Marketing people do it all the time. Overqualified foreigners simply do not grasp this; little wonder that they find it so hard to fit in here. Do you fly about the office making things happen before anyone is even vaguely ready for it? Congratulations, we need you now or possibly even before now, for example sometime last Tuesday.
We should note that the more proactive of proactivists seem to engage in strenuous activity even before any proactivity has been mentally envisaged, much less physically activated, so jolly good show on that front. Good on them for showing up the slower and better qualified professionals with their dreary and endless focus on spurious detail and their telling failure to fully grasp the big old picture.
State Your Qualifications Simply - Remember that the older generations have no particular understanding and much less interest in this new fan dangled NCEA system. Even writing about the NCEA prompts the eyes to glaze over and all we truly know is that origami somehow gains you extra curricular points. Apparently it's all about being a team player and not upsetting other people, especially the teachers who no longer want to be weighed down during their extended holiday periods by writing reports or marking exams. That's all we need to know, well that and the fact that you happen to be the Director's nephew, so just don't not bore us with any spurious detail. Talk about the cricket, focus on the big picture and remember, there are whole fleets of taxi-driving Iranian brain surgeons, Indian nuclear physicists and Egyptian mathematicians out there. Moreover order fries virtually anywhere in this good city and you will be rapidly served by well qualified Media Studies graduates, many from Selwyn College, nestled like small poppies within noble fields of honours graduates in such rapidly diverging fields as Conflict Resolution, Lesbian Break Dancing (you get free trips on this one) or Champagne Socialist Constructivism.
Where did a university education ever get David Bain? Or for that matter Christine Rankin who cleverly fixed up her own employment situation by focusing on dysfunctional Maori families, whilst admittedly coming from an abusive Pakeha family herself. Jolly good show. In not overtly focusing on her own issues and telling it like it is about others, we can all happily get back to smacking the living crap out of our youngsters because, hey, it never did me any harm (apart from the mild dyslexia and blurry vision that I am experiencing right at this moment). Nothing wrong with a good old smack on the fufu, and once again JK has brilliantly steered away from any overly qualified pools of talent by directly honing in on the rapidly diminishing, yet avidly proactive, hardly-qualified-at-all individuals and paying them well over $1,000 an hour to lead us straight out of this nasty old recession, despite her glaringly obvious record of financial mismanagement. If you are a middle-aged woman and wanting to get anywhere in this country it would pay to invest in a really good set of baubly earrings and please do lower that cleavage lest someone thinks you are not sexy and serious enough.
Certainly one would would never get this kind of level playing field overseas.
French? Don't be. It's been a tough old rugby season and frankly we won't be needing any more reminding of it until well after the next RWC semi-final.
Do Not Stare Directors Directly in the Eye - Directors in this city have endured decades of power outages, Australasianisations, the fluctuating Kiwi, Chinese manufacturing, Japanese Eurodashis, cleverly duplicitous Free Trade Agreements and even the rapidly emerging fact that nobody understands how Kiwi Saver works any more - even the overqualified argumentative foreign dude down in the far cubicle. These Directors, relentlessly urging on flocks of recalcitrant proactivists, simply do not have time for your personal baggage, so stow it. The bulk of Kiwi Directors are in fact mildly psychotic and may well crack when you stare them down. That guy floating around the harbour in a suitcase - actually a jovial mineral water vendor, so please do be warned.
Accents - thank goodness we don't even have one which is an amazingly blessed situation to be in when you consider that we are in fact the only quasi-nation on this earth,and certainly the only within the Southern Hemisphere, to have no trace of any accent at all. This can be a difficult situation to find ourselves in since other English speaking accents (and frankly who even cares about the rest of the world) are rapidly diverging away with their weirdo accents to the point where they somehow find it difficult to actually understand ours, eh.
I just can't believe that the Australians, the Irish and the Canadians have actually fallen into this trap but there you go, many nations have not been as proactive as us on this front and obviously their furious focus on the boring old detail has led them far astray. I think this has been one of the differentiating points between us and those Australians with their sad old delusions of adequacy because, in having no trace of any discernible accent, we are far less parochial and not at all one-eyed like they are. There they go again, relentlessly sucked deep into the whirlpool of endless comparison between the two countries - I mean really who cares?
Overseas Experience - this is a difficult one posing as it does endless comparisons between Kiwis and the Australians. Clearly any overseas experience undergone in the UK can only be a good thing as it raises standards, whereas years spent in Australia tend to suggest parochialism and the fact that our quasi-economy has indeed failed, also that you are a deserter who was foolish enough to come back and you probably deserve to be shot. This being said overseas qualified people are clearly more valuable than Kiwi graduates as they have far more authority and less student loans to pay off, so this is why, as our best doctors, engineers, scientists,teachers and nurses all desert the country in droves they have been steadily replaced by higher-paid yet at times overly-qualified foreigners.
I think somehow those Aussies are jealous over the fact that we opened our markets up years ago, rapidly leveled all playing fields and have long jumped the hurdle of vapid colonialist mental paralysis.
Cricket - are you a hopeless and dysfunctional loser? Just learn about cricket and people will find a use for you. Even if you have no actual knowledge of cricket, try mumbling vague things about the new ball during the interview and just see how popular you become. Crowds of people will push through the door of the boardroom, mill about you, and your promised googling of scores and statistics will inspire and invigorate the entire management team.
We are incredibly on top of things in this country, despite being clearly at the bottom of the world.
The recession only started through the deluded pipe dreams of some drug-crazed Hedge Fund Manager so thank goodness we have one of the best Hedge Fund Managers of all time to inspire us and lead us straight out of this financial quagmire.
Finally, in summation, and chiefly due to the fact that my beer has now been fully drained, I conclude that finding a job is super tough right now in the super city, so super suck it in. I trust this missive has shed some light up your tunnel and just remember, in New Zilland it's not what you know that really counts - it's more what you don't know.
kiaora.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
World Class Sheds
Party central is going to be world class, so stop your wingeing. Probably the best in the Southern Hemisphere.
Let's stop all this negativity - the same kind of negativity we had when we were building our world class party facilities for the America's Cup. You know, the ones that would pay for themselves and provide world class permanent facilities, hopefully the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere, for exactly this kind of event in the future. Now just look at how those world class facilities transformed and improved our Supercity electorate, hell you can barely get a park down there now. To think that ratepayers are still complaining about all this is negative in the extreme and yet here we all are again, doing it all over again, and all with with exactly the same sort of negativity, skepticism and anti-Auckland sentiment, especially from those confused prospective SuperCity ratepayers, cringing in awe, south of the Bombays.
What better way to show the world that Godzone is no longer about rugby, racing and beer than by hosting a really big pissup with beer, pokies and rugby in some big synergised corrugated tin sheds? Let's not muck around with water features, Len Lye wind wands, Maori cultural centres or all that socialist architectural claptrap - let's instead get the ratepayer to buy tourists what they really need - another big boozer with big screen rugby, all backed by world class urinals. I can just imagine the tourists now, peering querulously down from their swine flu infested cruise liners, onto the brawling, vomiting, foul mouthed and recently retrenched beer crowds below, and uttering in complete awe, "My word, absolutely world class. Probably one of the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere".
Those of the more adventurous and less swine flu infected tourists would then make their way through the brawling masses and into the bars where they could ask, somewhat optimistically, "Barman, good fellow, please purvey a bottle of your finest Marlborough Pinot Noir". Just imagine the bartender now, no doubt some retrenched accountant, horribly over qualified, rummaging around the back of the old tin sheds, only to reappear minutes later to respond, "Sorry mate I've checked the big rusty fridge out back but there's no red wine so you'll have to have a beer instead".
All followed by piping hot plates full of sausie rolls, salt laden chips and runny meat pies, not just any sausage rolls and meat pies mind, but savouries that fall in amongst the biggest and best within the whole of the Southern Hemisphere.
And don't forget the marty sauce.
Having said that, let's hope those froggies get knocked out of the cup early.
We might want a good look at those wharf piles though. I think they were rather overlooked in the flurry of financial transactions that have transformed this wharf from a dilapidated rat infested jetty into prospectively one of the biggest and most individual wharf complexes within the entire Southern Hemisphere, certainly much better than Darling Harbour. It is exactly this sort of financial genius - selling the wharf into trust, on behalf of the confused ratepayer, buying it back again thus vamping up its historical cost, funding its refurbishment, only to sell bits of it off to friendly developers, which has left the rest of the country sprawling in the dust and gasping for air.
Jaffas lead the way mate - know it and run with it.
Auckland has already been irrevocably transformed by just this sort of brilliant and individually unique architectural genius. This whole shed, transformed by synergised teams of unqualified yet proactive businessmen, will no doubt be at least 1 or possibly even 2 metres longer than anything those woeful Aussies can possibly muster. Remember the brilliant and individually unique Skytower? Of course those spurious damned Aussies with their negativity and sarcasm would claim that they built theirs decades before and that their tower is actually higher than ours and that Toronto has one as well, and oh yeah so do the Japs. They then intimated that our tower may somehow show signs of roof leakage. In a brilliant act of architectural genius however, probably the loftiest architectural genius in the Southern Hemisphere, we pipped those bastards right at the post (note racing analogy) by sticking that pointy bit on the top.
Hordes of Europeans, anxious to explore the far extremities of our Super Hemisphere, now flood down into our supercity just to marvel at this pointy bit and to make bad taste jokes about the Twin Towers as they bungy jump down into the swarming crowds of recently redundant, somewhat confused, rate paying recalcitrants below.
Absolutely world class.
Again right after we built the brilliant and individually unique coat hanger there were those annoyingly immediate and typically negative comparisons to the Sydney one. Why must our sheer creativity and genius be continually met by this sheer wall of rate-paying negativity? Right away those bloody Aussies started saying that theirs was older, bigger, less prone to having the side bits fall off - well ha ha, we will surely have the last laugh here by cleverly failing to upgrade our bridge and thereby letting it fall into a complete state of utter disrepair. Ours will sneakily become the most reverently ancient coat hangar within the confines of the entire Southern Hemisphere.
They just don't learn those Aussies, do they? I think they are somewhat stubborn in world outlook. Copycat losers, that's what I say.
Of course there won't actually be any money to upgrade the bridge anyway, as we desperately need more funding for rugby-themed booze barns here in Super Jafa Central. It's what the tourists are flooding in for. Forget the ratepayer, just fund tourism. Just cast your eye up north to New Zealand's pinnacle of architectural genius, that amazing toilet, designed by a foreigner. Tiled and everything. Yes you know the one, up at Kawakawa, where we see that brilliantly positioned signpost - on one side "Bay of Islands", suggesting world renowned sparkling inlets, dolphins and marlin, as described by Cook and Mark Twain, on the other side, "Hundertwasser Toilet". We know what is best for our tourism in this country, world class toilets and I can just hear the Swiss and Japanese now, somewhat breathless having cycled all the way up on the edge of our world class motorway, pushing aside the lines of redundant and over qualified rock-breaking town planners, as they piss up against that beautifully tiled urinal wall in sheer and utter amazement - "Brilliant. Absolutely world class! Possibly the best in the Southern Hemisphere".
Clearly this far outranks anything those spurious Aussies ever achieved with that over inflated nun scrum nestled on the shores of their annoyingly beautiful harbour. A little too adventurous perhaps? I bet they only wished they had crammed more bars and TV's into that thing, that there was altogether less opera going on and far more beer and world class urinals, designed by foreigners, as we have so proudly achieved in the more interesting corners of the world class, world renowned, and somewhat world visionary, yet not overtly individual, Southern Hemisphere.
Look the Opera House isn't bad - probably needed more of a rugby theme though.
One way to fund the Harbour Bridge upgrade may be to sell it into trust, on behalf of the ratepayer, pay an exorbitant cost to buy it back again, thereby rocketing up its net worth, then have the entire country fund its refurbishment, pay some friendly companies to fix it up and then sell off all the good bits to friendly people, whilst charging those bloody annoying North Shore ratepayers a stiff fee to come across each day.
All we need is simple regional agreement on this plan and this should save millions - well enough to pay for the Beckham fiasco anyhow.
Personally I feel people do not have enough confidence in John Banks as SuperJafa. I mean he ran Tony's for Helen's sake. Don't you guys even watch TV? Running a supercity is child's play compared to getting steak and chips out on time or making sure there is enough marty sauce to fulfill the unique and individual needs of each table. This guy has shown terrific leadership, having said said no to so many things - Britomart, the light rail system, Carlaw Park, and no to the ARC. He has said no in so many individual and creative ways, lets not be negative Nellies here. Hopefully we should get our world class California style Eastern Corridor (fastest in the Southern Hemisphere) just as GM and Chrysler go permanently and irrevocably out of business.
We don't always say no in this great supercity of ours though. We said yes to world class Beckham and yet look at those ratepayers still complaining! Honestly - no vision. Personally I felt venturing past the sacred confines of rugby was scary and pretty much fraught with danger from the outset.
We kind of dropped the ball (no pun intended) with the Waterfront Stadium though didn't we? It seemed like Auckland had difficulty communicating, or rather the middle, southern and western bits did since North Harbour was totally excluded from the entire debate right from the outset. I mean here was Auckland's chance to express its unique individuality, by painstakingly copying Wellington's Cake Tin (beautiful toilets in that thing, let me tell you), yet still keeping safely and squarely on the tried and true rugby theme. Anyway imagine building that thing only to watch the Froggies run off with your silverware?
Tragic.
Anyway does our rate payer even know what they want? Do they recognise genius when they see it? They don't want Eden Park upgrades, they don't want the Waterfront Stadium, they don't want to pay for Chunder Central. Have these recalcitrants no creative vision? They need to make their minds up soon, as there are only so many different ideas that our synergised teams of unqualified proactive businessmen, (while watching rugby and sculling beers as served by overly qualified recently retrenched architects), can muster.
Let's stop all this negativity - the same kind of negativity we had when we were building our world class party facilities for the America's Cup. You know, the ones that would pay for themselves and provide world class permanent facilities, hopefully the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere, for exactly this kind of event in the future. Now just look at how those world class facilities transformed and improved our Supercity electorate, hell you can barely get a park down there now. To think that ratepayers are still complaining about all this is negative in the extreme and yet here we all are again, doing it all over again, and all with with exactly the same sort of negativity, skepticism and anti-Auckland sentiment, especially from those confused prospective SuperCity ratepayers, cringing in awe, south of the Bombays.
What better way to show the world that Godzone is no longer about rugby, racing and beer than by hosting a really big pissup with beer, pokies and rugby in some big synergised corrugated tin sheds? Let's not muck around with water features, Len Lye wind wands, Maori cultural centres or all that socialist architectural claptrap - let's instead get the ratepayer to buy tourists what they really need - another big boozer with big screen rugby, all backed by world class urinals. I can just imagine the tourists now, peering querulously down from their swine flu infested cruise liners, onto the brawling, vomiting, foul mouthed and recently retrenched beer crowds below, and uttering in complete awe, "My word, absolutely world class. Probably one of the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere".
Those of the more adventurous and less swine flu infected tourists would then make their way through the brawling masses and into the bars where they could ask, somewhat optimistically, "Barman, good fellow, please purvey a bottle of your finest Marlborough Pinot Noir". Just imagine the bartender now, no doubt some retrenched accountant, horribly over qualified, rummaging around the back of the old tin sheds, only to reappear minutes later to respond, "Sorry mate I've checked the big rusty fridge out back but there's no red wine so you'll have to have a beer instead".
All followed by piping hot plates full of sausie rolls, salt laden chips and runny meat pies, not just any sausage rolls and meat pies mind, but savouries that fall in amongst the biggest and best within the whole of the Southern Hemisphere.
And don't forget the marty sauce.
Having said that, let's hope those froggies get knocked out of the cup early.
We might want a good look at those wharf piles though. I think they were rather overlooked in the flurry of financial transactions that have transformed this wharf from a dilapidated rat infested jetty into prospectively one of the biggest and most individual wharf complexes within the entire Southern Hemisphere, certainly much better than Darling Harbour. It is exactly this sort of financial genius - selling the wharf into trust, on behalf of the confused ratepayer, buying it back again thus vamping up its historical cost, funding its refurbishment, only to sell bits of it off to friendly developers, which has left the rest of the country sprawling in the dust and gasping for air.
Jaffas lead the way mate - know it and run with it.
Auckland has already been irrevocably transformed by just this sort of brilliant and individually unique architectural genius. This whole shed, transformed by synergised teams of unqualified yet proactive businessmen, will no doubt be at least 1 or possibly even 2 metres longer than anything those woeful Aussies can possibly muster. Remember the brilliant and individually unique Skytower? Of course those spurious damned Aussies with their negativity and sarcasm would claim that they built theirs decades before and that their tower is actually higher than ours and that Toronto has one as well, and oh yeah so do the Japs. They then intimated that our tower may somehow show signs of roof leakage. In a brilliant act of architectural genius however, probably the loftiest architectural genius in the Southern Hemisphere, we pipped those bastards right at the post (note racing analogy) by sticking that pointy bit on the top.
Hordes of Europeans, anxious to explore the far extremities of our Super Hemisphere, now flood down into our supercity just to marvel at this pointy bit and to make bad taste jokes about the Twin Towers as they bungy jump down into the swarming crowds of recently redundant, somewhat confused, rate paying recalcitrants below.
Absolutely world class.
Again right after we built the brilliant and individually unique coat hanger there were those annoyingly immediate and typically negative comparisons to the Sydney one. Why must our sheer creativity and genius be continually met by this sheer wall of rate-paying negativity? Right away those bloody Aussies started saying that theirs was older, bigger, less prone to having the side bits fall off - well ha ha, we will surely have the last laugh here by cleverly failing to upgrade our bridge and thereby letting it fall into a complete state of utter disrepair. Ours will sneakily become the most reverently ancient coat hangar within the confines of the entire Southern Hemisphere.
They just don't learn those Aussies, do they? I think they are somewhat stubborn in world outlook. Copycat losers, that's what I say.
Of course there won't actually be any money to upgrade the bridge anyway, as we desperately need more funding for rugby-themed booze barns here in Super Jafa Central. It's what the tourists are flooding in for. Forget the ratepayer, just fund tourism. Just cast your eye up north to New Zealand's pinnacle of architectural genius, that amazing toilet, designed by a foreigner. Tiled and everything. Yes you know the one, up at Kawakawa, where we see that brilliantly positioned signpost - on one side "Bay of Islands", suggesting world renowned sparkling inlets, dolphins and marlin, as described by Cook and Mark Twain, on the other side, "Hundertwasser Toilet". We know what is best for our tourism in this country, world class toilets and I can just hear the Swiss and Japanese now, somewhat breathless having cycled all the way up on the edge of our world class motorway, pushing aside the lines of redundant and over qualified rock-breaking town planners, as they piss up against that beautifully tiled urinal wall in sheer and utter amazement - "Brilliant. Absolutely world class! Possibly the best in the Southern Hemisphere".
Clearly this far outranks anything those spurious Aussies ever achieved with that over inflated nun scrum nestled on the shores of their annoyingly beautiful harbour. A little too adventurous perhaps? I bet they only wished they had crammed more bars and TV's into that thing, that there was altogether less opera going on and far more beer and world class urinals, designed by foreigners, as we have so proudly achieved in the more interesting corners of the world class, world renowned, and somewhat world visionary, yet not overtly individual, Southern Hemisphere.
Look the Opera House isn't bad - probably needed more of a rugby theme though.
One way to fund the Harbour Bridge upgrade may be to sell it into trust, on behalf of the ratepayer, pay an exorbitant cost to buy it back again, thereby rocketing up its net worth, then have the entire country fund its refurbishment, pay some friendly companies to fix it up and then sell off all the good bits to friendly people, whilst charging those bloody annoying North Shore ratepayers a stiff fee to come across each day.
All we need is simple regional agreement on this plan and this should save millions - well enough to pay for the Beckham fiasco anyhow.
Personally I feel people do not have enough confidence in John Banks as SuperJafa. I mean he ran Tony's for Helen's sake. Don't you guys even watch TV? Running a supercity is child's play compared to getting steak and chips out on time or making sure there is enough marty sauce to fulfill the unique and individual needs of each table. This guy has shown terrific leadership, having said said no to so many things - Britomart, the light rail system, Carlaw Park, and no to the ARC. He has said no in so many individual and creative ways, lets not be negative Nellies here. Hopefully we should get our world class California style Eastern Corridor (fastest in the Southern Hemisphere) just as GM and Chrysler go permanently and irrevocably out of business.
We don't always say no in this great supercity of ours though. We said yes to world class Beckham and yet look at those ratepayers still complaining! Honestly - no vision. Personally I felt venturing past the sacred confines of rugby was scary and pretty much fraught with danger from the outset.
We kind of dropped the ball (no pun intended) with the Waterfront Stadium though didn't we? It seemed like Auckland had difficulty communicating, or rather the middle, southern and western bits did since North Harbour was totally excluded from the entire debate right from the outset. I mean here was Auckland's chance to express its unique individuality, by painstakingly copying Wellington's Cake Tin (beautiful toilets in that thing, let me tell you), yet still keeping safely and squarely on the tried and true rugby theme. Anyway imagine building that thing only to watch the Froggies run off with your silverware?
Tragic.
Anyway does our rate payer even know what they want? Do they recognise genius when they see it? They don't want Eden Park upgrades, they don't want the Waterfront Stadium, they don't want to pay for Chunder Central. Have these recalcitrants no creative vision? They need to make their minds up soon, as there are only so many different ideas that our synergised teams of unqualified proactive businessmen, (while watching rugby and sculling beers as served by overly qualified recently retrenched architects), can muster.
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