Tuesday, April 27, 2004


Sammy and I are extremely frustrated at the continuous postponements of the opening of Suzanne Paul’s new venture, Rawaka. Being entertained by proud remnants of a once noble race performing show tunes while learning how to deploy hair accessories in a multitude of innovative ways is the sort of value-added investment that will put this country out of the economic mire in which the Prime Minister has dumped it, and provide Maoris with some pin money to spend on taro and such.
But I’ve told Sammy we’ll eschew the buffet and be doing show only. He can take his own sandwiches after what happened at Valentine’s last week on my birthday.

Goodness that lass - Mary Something - on Checkpoint had me on the hop last night in an interview about Tariana Turia. Throwing me curly ones on Cabinet procedures and collective responsibility and ministerial duties. Sammy could barely turn the pages of the Parliamentary manual fast enough to find me the answers to her rapid-fire questions Fortunately my habitually sedate delivery bought him more than enough time. My performance must have been particularly good, as I see some of my quotes were used today in a press release from the National Party.

Sammy says his idea of a hikoi is getting from the couch to the fridge for another diet Fanta during the ads on NZ Idol. Then he said why did they march over the bridge instead of round the foreshore since they think they bloody own it! He’s a card that Sammy - should be on Game of Two Cafes.

The phrase for today is ‘Rawaka’ - but wait there’s …no hang on … could you wait a little longer?

Wednesday, April 14, 2004


It’s not often you get surprised at my age, though Sammy’s still capable of putting the wind up me if we happen to walk past a bakery with a special offer on leftover sally lunns at the end of the day.
But as you will be aware, The Don Brash Variety Hour debuted on Monday to most encouraging ratings: first in all 5+ (Rangiora) and second in the all-important 85-dead demographic (Bluff), which was pretty good going since we were up against Don Brash: What a Shit on MTS,
Since then, I have been overwhelmed by a wave of support from the show business community or “luvvies” as I believe the insider jargon has it.
Such encouragement has really brought a lump to my forehead. To give but two examples. One of our leading film-makers, a Mr Steve Crow, appears to have recognised my gifts as a humourist and has asked me to appear in his next production because “Christ knows, we could really use some comic relief”. I believe the name of the opus in question is Once You’ve Had Black.
I have also been contacted by a Mr Richard Taylor of Wetter Workshops, who says he believes his company has developed new technology which could be used to animate me.
“Stay tuned”, as we say in “the business”.

The phrase for today is 'Te Kooti’ – the nits.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004


I hadn't realised that this Hurricane Brash documentary was going to be all about me.
Here I was, thinking I was helping out a novice lensman who needed to check the grey balance on his camera, couldn't find a suitable neutral grey to shoot so asked me to stand in. Quelle surprise! And surely a landmark in colour matching.
To be involved in show business at any level is positively intoxicating and in the last few months I've graduated from shandy to the hard stuff.
I'm thinking of hiring that political cartoon artist Tom Scott as a speech writer. With him sculpting my words, nobody will ever laugh at me again.

The phrase for today is 'whangai' - a mushroom.

Thursday, April 08, 2004


Sammy's posts below reveal the dangers of attempting to forge bonds with other cultures.
His total absorption into the ways of the brown folk have stripped away the vestiges of his New Zealand-ness and we now have standing before us a pidgin-speaking husk of his former self.
I'm recommending that Sammy takes a break over the holiday weekend and fill up on chocolate.
Lord knows that I myself have fallen into the quicklime of bi-culturalism on the odd occasion.
When the wife's family are around I find that I'm squinting in order to differentiate cousin from cousin and so on.
The wife insists that I wear my glasses more often around the house but there's no way that one of the Empire's loyal subjects is going to show weakness in the face of the Manchurian hordes.

I have many things to say about the government's handling of the foreshore issue. Once the furore has died down, I shall comment. Hopefully, mine will be a lone voice of reason.
I will pitch it low enough not to sound like I'm whining.

The phrase of the day is 'whakatane' - a variation on the theme of knowing one's creator in a biblical way.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004


Gidday, cuzzies. Sammy here again. Don’s taken te day off to study te new seabed and foreskin legislation but promises to be back with a full report tomorrow. Choice.

In te meantime, I had heaps of fun at my new mate Tame Iti’s arts show. It was very interesting to meet some Maoris. I was a bit nervous at first but think I set te right tone when I complimented him on his make-up. He sure had gone to a lot of trouble. I haven’t seen a man wearing that much make-up since te last caucus Xmas party Michael Laws came to.

Did youse see Matt Robson from the Usedtobeanalliance Party having a go at us for wanting to spend more money on defence? Plurry heck. Don’t these jokers know we’re going to need heaps of new soldiers to defend te foreshore from recently unemployed Maori MPs having picnics.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to play through when there’s a bunch of Maoris having a picnic on te green, but it can really bugger up your game.
This might not seem very important to you, but due to te laws of physics, golf is one of te few “sports” your Sammy can play.

Ka kite guano.

The phrase for today is ‘moko’ – a Maori coffee.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004


I'm having trouble seeing clearly these days.
Sammy suggests that I get a pair of glasses that make me even less human, but I think it's got something to do with the phalanx of security-types who foreshadow my every move. I was initially resistant to the proposal but we compromised by deciding not to have a specialist unit for my forehead.
Yes, I've had death threats - but haven't we all? From the moment we're birthed the promise of extinction dangles above our head like the Sword of Dolmio (thanks to Sammy for that - his knowledge of the classics surpasses even his appetite for condiments) and the sooner we accept our own mortality the better. Just ask Tariana Turia.

The phrase for today is ‘ahau’ - self-employed woman.

Monday, April 05, 2004


Gidday, youse jokers, hee hee hee. Sammy here. Don’s asked me to fill in while he takes some stress leave. I told the bro’ an opinion poll is only a snapshot in te foot and he shouldn’t’ be worried about te results, but he’s not having a moa bone of it, eh, cuzzies. Jeez, even if we only go down 5% every month, it’ll be a year before we have to get te proper jobs.
As youse can tell, I’ve been brushing up on my reo and I think I’ve got te hang of it now. Anyway, I’ve finally been invited to a hooley in my new job as Spokesman on Maoris' Affairs. Some joker called Tame Iti is having a do called "Meet the Prick", and I’m the guest of honour. Choice. Can’t wait to see who te prick will be.

I had a bit of korero with Linda Clark about it today. She said I was being pretty “sanguine” about te whole thing. Plurry nuisance - just got the hang of te te reo and now I have to learn plurry French.

The phrase for today is ‘kawhia’ - 1. automobile phobia. 2. place where stolen vehicles are traded.

Thursday, April 01, 2004


Have finally found something for Paul Hutchison to do. I wasn’t always convinced we needed a spokesman on the arts but this New Zealand Symphony Orchestra Bill is the last straw and I’m pleased to see he’s come out swinging.
Let us not forget where state control of music led in the USSR - to the symphonies of Shostakovich and the operas of Prokofiev among other babarities. I need say no more.
As Paul says in his press release “the Bill imposes upon the NZSO a necessity to 'develop a distinctively New Zealand cultural environment' - whatever that means”.
Actually, something in the back of my mind is telling me that as arts spokesman Paul should know what a “distinctively New Zealand cultural environment” means. Will get Sammy to give him a working definition if he’s unclear. Though it is one of those tricky ones, like “what is a New Zealander”

I switched over briefly from the MTS the other night to see a documentary on cartoonists and was most surprised to see Jim Anderton being interviewed about his cartoon collection. How long has he still been alive?
What a shame the producers didn’t contact me - I have a small collection of classic Giles cartoons from the Daily Express which never failed to delight visitors to the house in the days when they still came.
Noted also that The Warehouse boutique shopping chain is advertising in “te so-called reo” on the MTS. The ad I saw was for Easter eggs, which set Sammy into a terrible spin as he could see the eggs but couldn’t understand what was being said about them.

BTW - did you see Katherine Rich in the Sunday Star-Times last weekend? Can I pick ’em or what?

The phrase for today is ‘Ranginui’ - attempted to contact a deceased television producer.

Wednesday, March 31, 2004


Someone has suggested to me that this country has never had need of a man and thinker like Michael King more than it does at the present time. Sammy and I are trying to work out what that means.

The phrase for today is "pouri'.

Tuesday, March 30, 2004


Farewell, then Sir Peter Ustinov. I’m sure all New Zealanders and many Maoris will join me in lamenting the demise of one of the all-time lesbian greats. As something of a connoisseur of the art of acting, I have always admired Sir Peter. He was my favourite Goon, and his performances in the Pink Panther movies were a great influence on me as I strove to develop a personal style in my youth. I have written to Sir Peter expressing my sadness at his passing.

Speaking of dead things, I’ve heard from several New Zealanders who have tuned in to the Maori Television Service and encountered a problem with the sound quality. Many of them reported they couldn’t understand a word that was being said. I’ve checked with Sammy and he tells me the programmes are being broadcast in the dead language called te reo, which I’ve had cause to comment on before. This seems a shame, as the service got off to a promising start with a programme about Dame Whina Cooper. I remember her as one of the good Maoris who didn’t go around making trouble but spent most of her time taking little children for invigorating walks.
As to the long-term prospects of the MTS, I wish it well. As someone pointed out on Nationalist Radio yesterday, it is a government-owned asset, and if it prospers I expect it to fetch a tidy sum when vended to a consortium of anthropologists on my return to power.

The phrase for today is ‘kupe’ - an unaffordable vehicle.

Friday, March 26, 2004


What a week it’s been. That Michael Cullen certainly has a mean mouth on him. Fortunately Sammy was more than a match for his invective when “Dr” Cullen tried to draw him into an argument the other day. No matter what he said, Sammy simply retorted, “I know you are but what am I?” He’s a hard man to best in a verbal tussle.

This weekend, however, I will be taking the phones off the hook, going offline and drawing the curtains so as not to miss a minute of the new Maori Television Service.
I hope to see educational programmes for upwardly mobile Maori: how to use a shovel, which way to turn your sign to tell the traffic it is safe to proceed, getting a mop into those difficult corners - that sort of thing.
But it’s good to leaven such intellectual fodder with a little levity. Fortunately, I hear, the service will be broadcasting The Billy T James Show. Now that was a funny man. I recall several “skits” portraying Maori as lazy and thieving which were particularly mirthsome.

The phrase for today is ‘rakau’ - to insult a bovine.

Thursday, March 25, 2004


Labels tend to stick and I guess I'm going to have to live with mine.
What started out as a witty mixture of languages which I call Te French (kind of like Franglais except mine incorporates two dead languages) has become yet another reason to call me a racist.
Well let me set the record straight.
When I put that “non Maori” sign on my office door it was supposed to be taken in context with the others I Sellotaped alongside it. But I suppose that “non dogs” or “non junkmail” slogans haven't the same power to grab the headlines - do they, non?
My wife is also a non-Maori, probably more so than me, but I still insist she speaks English.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I use mine all the time.
The Treaty of Waitangi, as I explained on The Susan Wood Show featuring Paul Holmes, is not a real treaty because there was no Maori nation in 1840. The treaty was signed between the British, who were a proper nation even though they don’t live here any more, and what is best described as a loose collection of social clubs for brown people without any clothes or much in the way of art using perspective.
Therefore, as I said on The Wonderful World of Holmes, it was not a partnership as many people understand it. It was more like a marriage.
Why is this so hard for commentators to get their heads around? Honestly, some of them are as slow as Sammy’s metabolism.

The phrase for today is ‘kuia’ - even more of an Australian greeting.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004


The Holmes Variety Hour last night was somewhat less than a total balls-up. In fact, you could call it incomplete bollocks.
Not once did Holmes ask me anything regarding my recently-publicized penis nor did he introduce me to his wife Susan Wood.
Instead he put forward questions posted by idiots (i.e. you people, the public) and it became quite apparent by his ruthless line of inquiry that he felt threatened by my popularity and vigour.
During this harsh interrogation, my forehead moistened considerably and, to the untrained eye, took on the appearance of flop sweat. However, let me assure you as a qualified doctor that it was in fact a powerful pheremone and by "marking out my territory", Holmes was quickly humbled into a stutter.
As the forehead is the largest organ on my body, such a bountiful excess of "love juice" renders me irresistable beyond measure to members of both sexes - which explains the absence of both Mrs Susan Wood Holmes and Mister Clark.
But credit where credit's due and therefore I must applaud Mister Clark for taking every measure to avoid my organ and thus making a spectacle of herself.
And to Mrs Susan Wood Holmes; I am a man who understands the sanctity of marriage and would never place temptation at your doorstep.
If you ever find anything unwelcome on your door mat then it's possibly the work of darker forces (i.e. Maoris).

the phrase for today is 'titiwhai' - to feminize an aggressive female.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004


So the Prime Minister - and isn’t it odd that she’s called a minister, which is a religious word, when she is on the record as being a devout Satanist - is unwilling to have intercourse with me on the Paul Holmes Variety Hour. I hear that her place in the planned debate will indeed be taken by an empty chair. Well, two can play at that game, missy. I have decided not to participate in the debate either. Therefore there will be two empty chairs. I’m sure Mr Holmes won’t notice or have any difficulty filling in for both of us.

Since the above was written, Signor Winston Peters has volunteered to appear with me in the debate instead of the Prime Minister, but I have declined his invitation also. I fear his presence would run the risk of making him look like an opportunist. I do hope the studio is big enough to accommodate three empty chairs.

Speaking of needing three chairs, Sammy has really taken the bull by the horns on the childhood obesity issue. He says the problem is that it's very hard for kids to put on any weight at all with those new salads at McDonald’s. As he puts it, they “wouldn’t fill Jeanette Fitzsimons”. Brilliant mind, that Sammy.

The phrase for today is ‘kereru’ - to regret a Newstalk ZB evening talkback host

Monday, March 22, 2004


I’ve never been a great believer in opinion polls. There was a time for instance when I trailed somewhat behind Darren McDonald as preferred Prime Minister. However, it only takes one good idea to turn things around, and I fully intend to have that idea in the near future.

In the meantime, I have decided to reach out to the young people of New Zealand. My attention has been drawn to the fact that Mr Clark has a regular slot on the breakfast show of a young person’s radio station called bMF. Frankly, I think this is just another one of her Hugh turns.
Apparently, the media are the key to this sort of thing. Sammy has pointed out that while my recent appearances on the covers of North and South and the Listener magazine have taken care of our target near-dead demographic, young people are the voters of the future. I will contact the editor of AA Directions at the soonest opportunity.


The phrase for today is ‘mihi’ - an identity crisis.

Friday, March 19, 2004


Mister Clark is hell-bent on dragging out the Treaty process by attempting to conduct a "korero" with the other political tribes.
I'm ashamed of her cynical attempts at placing false hope into brown hearts.

I would never stoop so low as to give Maoris reason to believe I'll do them any favours and I know that my actions and honesty in this matter "koreros" for itself.

Since Mister Clark was a no-show at my previous attempt to engage her in meaningful debate, it is obvious that she has absolutely nothing meaningful to debate whatsoever and is scared of me and the awesome powers of articulate communication which flow from the tips of my finger tongues.

I mentioned yesterday how there was a time when I used to mutter into my serviette. I failed to add that sometimes the serviette would reply. I think there is a wonderful analogy to be drawn from this but at the moment it escapes me.

All I can say is that these days I'm listening more to the inner-Don and someday hope to share with you the meaning of this secret language (which for the present only I can understand as you are all far too stupid).

The phrase for today is 'tangi' - over-enthusiastic for a first pash.

Thursday, March 18, 2004


So Winston Peters is working in cahoots with the prime minister.
Well, best of luck to her but I've never met an Italian I didn't
mistrust. And I don't mean that to sound racist - it's an observation based on research.
I've been fortunate in having some of the best data-manipulators and fact-shapers at my disposal. They've not only helped raised my political profile but they've made me quite the livewire on the dinner-party circuit.
Whereas before I'd only be able to mutter figures Rain Man-like into my serviette, now I'm able to hold my ground with an effervescent line of repartee.
My wife informs me that this is called having a "personality".
I'm going to have Sammy look into the political ramifications of this.
By the way, did you know that Maoris used to eat each other?

The phrase for today is 'whare' - My, that's quite some distance.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004


I did not in any sense slight the Prime Minister's own marriage. I made no reference to her marriage at all in my letter, so I don't feel there is anything for which to apologise.
I think this is a diversion by the Prime Minister. She is clearly uncomfortable with the concern that New Zealanders are expressing about the Treaty of Waitangi.
She has tried a different tactic almost every week for the last seven weeks to divert attention from that and I am not going to be diverted from that primary focus.
She has made her own views on marriage quite clear. She is either indifferent to or opposed to depending what sources you read.
I'm not keen to get involved in trading insults with the bitch and I don't plan to be doing that.

Well, by now everyone knows I have a penis. I suppose it had to come out sooner or later. But, chaps, believe me, if you’d been anywhere near the Kiwifruit Authority in the ’80s you would have done the same. You’ve never seen such a bevy of bodacious bureaucrats. No wonder that’s where I found my own little Chinese gooseberry.

I don’t think in the long run this brouhaha about an affair will do any harm. At worst, I’ve definitely got the horny old goat vote in the bag.

Of course, the news about the affair has hit Sammy hard. I’ve had to explain that as men grow up they develop certain … urges, that need to be satisfied. And sometimes Mummy and Daddy have special cuddles for that. I think he got the message. Anyway, he was certainly giving Deborah Coddington some very strange looks.

The phrase for today is 'ripeka' - one who nibbles again.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004


Another hatchet job on me, in the new issue of a magazine called North & South. The cunning of the media knows no bounds (a bit like Sammy’s belt).
By drawing an apparently fawning pen portrait of myself, the writer, one Roger Warwick, obviously intends to undermine my credibility by the exaggerated nature of his sycophancy.
Apparently Mr Warwick has won several Qantas Awards. How he manages to hold down a job at Qantas while writing such long magazine articles is beyond me.
I have learnt recently that he followed me on one of my recent progresses in order to write his story, and was indeed present at Orewa on the Night of Miracles. I was unaware of who Mr Warwick was during this time, which has led to an unfortunate misunderstanding. However, since learning the facts, I have contacted the police and withdrawn the complaint.
I am, of course, no stranger to this kind of journalism. I remember holding a copy of this particular periodical in my hands some time ago. I was able to get them clean quite easily, but the smell lingered for days.

The very name of the journal symbolises so much of what is wrong with this country. You cannot be both north and south, just as you cannot have two types of New Zealanders.

Shortly after publication, I was contacted by a representative of the magazine, who suggested I might like to take out a subscription. Frankly, I can get all the information I need about the modern world from The People’s Friend and Readers’ Digest. The latter is quite clever – they choose good stories and summarise them to save you time reading them. And I always get a chuckle out of Humour in Uniform. Sammy enjoys getting my copies when I’ve finished with them.

The phrase for today is 'adultery' - where you can pick some babes

Monday, March 15, 2004


Extraordinary thing happened at church the other day. I’d just sat down and started giving God some ideas for commandments when this woman stood up and started ranting about social justice and poor people. Not that she looked as though she’d ever gone hungry, though Sammy said he thought she could do with a bit more meat on her bones. (Sammy can be a bit annoying at church - he just sits there jiggling up and down until it’s time for communion.)
Anyway, I got to thinking. Jesus was a carpenter, and Sammy was a woodwork teacher.
Interesting, isn’t it?

I was so distracted I inadvertently put a note in the collection plate instead of my customary pretty gold coin. Had an awful time getting it back after the service.

Am also having an awful time keeping up with the PM about whether or not there’ll be a commission of inquiry into the "Treaty" of "Waitangi". Not that I’m worried about any possible consequences. I finally got Sammy to have a look at it the other day. He tells me it’s full of mistakes. It calls the queen Victoria instead of Elizabeth, to name but one. I intend to point this out in the House at the earliest opportunity. Keep it under your hats for now though - I expect it will have quite an impact when I drop my bombshell.

The phrase for today is ‘karakia’ - an Indian dish prepared using a native bird.

Friday, March 12, 2004


Today, I furnish proof of my popularity amongst the swinging younger voter.

Dear Mister Don Brash,
I just heard on the news that you went real easy on that joker who chucked mud on you and you didn't press any charges and that the joker got off without a conviction 'cuz he diverted and now I realize that this sentence I just wrote is really long and I also know that you are a busy man but I want to ask that when you become King of New Zeland(sic) whether you would let me off from not finishing my dinner and promise not to ring the food police and tell on me like mum says she will.
p.s. if you tell me your cell phone number then I can txt you and it won't be as long as if I wrote to you.

Thank you Richard S. (aged seven) for your nice letter.
However before I can give your request any serious consideration, it would help for me to know what your position on superannuation is.

The phrase for today is 'debate' - when you remove the worm from the hook.

Thursday, March 11, 2004


So - Helen Clark says that an inquiry into the Treaty may take up to 18 months to complete.
What utter tosh!
Mister Clark is quite aware that Maoris do not have either the stamina or attention-span to go that kind of distance.
Imagine the amount of documentation such an inquiry would yield. Lord knows how much our Maoris dislike reading!
They want immediate answers and a fast-twitch muscle response.
And that's what a National government promises to deliver.
A 'no' is quicker than a 'yes' and Gerry hasn't got an ounce of body fat on him (he won't state his weight in metrics).
Also, cult religion party leader Peter Dunne is quoted as saying that I'm too frightened to engage in (his words) "a mature debate".
A typical "age-ist" statement from an embittered old politician if I've ever heard one.
Well, Mister Dunne - I hate to break it to you but it's us young bloods who stand to inherit the world of tomorrow.
And to use the vernacular of my generation - you can go suck chickens.

The phrase for today is ''nudity" - the debut performance of an annoying melody.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004


The constitutional crisis which has the country in its grip is giving comfort to those who do not have the best interests of New Zealanders at heart. In short order in recent days we have seen such affronts to common sense as a $4 billion roading plan for Auckland, the discovery of an unlicensed aquaculture centre near Gisborne and a musical version of Once Were Warriors.
The Prime Minister says a royal commission is the answer but, if I may contirbute my two pipis worth, I say the madness must stop. It is time to draw a line in the sand, and I believe the Crown should draw that line.
The Prime Minister is being held hostage by Maori dissidents in her caucus. Fortunately with one exception, dissenting Maoris in caucus are not a problem for us.
The only solution is an early election. I say to the Prime Minister: Bring it up!

The phrase for today is ‘koha’ - a basic joke

Tuesday, March 09, 2004


"The cynical manipulation of public opinion over the past month has shown that many people remain confused about the role of the treaty in our constitution.
"Like it, loathe it or wallow in ignorance of it, the treaty remains this country's founding document and cannot be 'rewritten' every time a politician needs a quick-fix in the polls." Nandor Tanczos, NZ Herald 09/03.

Now the above statement could have come from any member of the house in this current climate no matter what their political stripe.
I would have said much the same thing except with different adjectives. scapegoats and, possibly, a totally different meaning had Nandor not beaten me to the draw.
However muddled his thinking is, he basically means well although I'm worried that the "electric puha" may be somewhat detrimental to a person with his delicate constitution.
Note to Nandor: Eat more red meat.

The phrase for today is 'kowhai' - a cheeky darky.

Monday, March 08, 2004


I fully endorse the formation of a new political party for Maoris - as long as it is based on need not race. I myself would be happy to commit at least one politician to such an enterprise, whether she likes it or not.

I note also that the Waitangi Tribunal agrees with me that the government is wrong. Must arrange a coffee with them sometime to see if we share any common ground - as long as it is above the high water mark, of course. (Joke)

As today is International Women’s Day I would like to take a moment to acknowledge the fairer sex - although I think that term may be a bit of a misnomer as they come in all colours.

BTW, Sammy has told me that David Tua is not, as I reported last week, a Maori. Come to think of it he does look more like a New Zealander, and certainly his income sugests non-Maori affiliations.

Phrase for today is ‘Tangata whenua” - I’m sorry, I’ve had Sammy looking into this all day with no success. Neither of us has any idea what this means.

Friday, March 05, 2004


Helen Clark has asked me to “bring it on”. But I will not enter into a playground fracas on the important issues facing the nation. This is no more than blatant electioneering. I am appalled that the Prime Minister has chosen to play the race card.

Recently I had the pleasure of addressing a cross-section of society at Auckland’s Northern Club - so named I believe because of its location. The fact there were no Maoris present speaks volumes about their interest in the important issues facing the nation. Either that or their lack of concern is an expression of confidence in my stewardship.
Frankly, it may be best for Maoris not to be involved in the economy - which is the case in many parts of the country - if David Tua’s ability to handle his finances is anything to go by.

Phrase for today is "haka' - person with a chest infection

Thursday, March 04, 2004


A cursory glance at reports of my address in Tauranga yesterday might create the misleading impression that it was a rowdy affair. On the contrary, while there was some vocal opposition expressed, the hecklers were only a small majority of those present.

Apparently, Maoris have a higher rate of mortality than New Zealanders, no matter what their income is.
Having thoroughly researched the Great Influenza Epidemic of Ought-Something, I believe that we are finally seeing the last waiata of a once-proud people.
But as a humanist and a doctor, I believe we must take drastic measures to preserve this wonderful race.
Therefore, in order to reduce the current mortality rate, we must keep Maoris in their natural economic environment - a type of financial containment unit - and not expose them to the colonialist ills of ambition, greed and elevated social status.

Which brings me to the issue of superannuation. My opponents have attempted to draw me into what they believe will be damaging admissions about my plans for this particular fiscal bogey. The National Party policy on superannuation is perfectly simple: I will not be announcing an about-face on this issue until we are elected. Please do not bring this matter up again until then.
Though I will just add that a change in the age of entitlement will not occur before 2020, by which time, as a supporter in Tauranga poignantly noted yesterday, I “will be dead”. Thank you for your concern.

Today's phrase is 'Tauranga' - a former National Minister of Maori Affairs was incorrect when he backed Winston

Wednesday, March 03, 2004


Warming our minds and hearts in the jetstream of The "Oscars", it can be forgiven that my vigorous assault on the Employment Relations has been somewhat overlooked.
But having since departed the "cinema of jubilation", it is time for me to restate my position in the squinty glare of daylight.
I have launched a vigorous assault on the Employment Relations Law Reform Bill because the sooner we remove relations from employment conditions, the sooner Maoris will realise that work is not a birth right.
Surely they realise that reliance on the largesse of their janitorial executive kumara cow papa (or mama come to think of it) in order to secure themselves a job, places them at an unfair advantage.
And imagine if this kind of nepotism was extended to other sectors of society.
Before you know it, families will be pooling their finances together in order to send their young Maoris to university.
It's a spit in the face of student loan schemes which, as you may be aware, provide us with the promise of taxation to come.
The burden of taxation on those who can least afford it is a burden removed from the shoulders of quality people who can thus concentrate on improving the prosperity of a nation.
Although I have chalked my own path and refuse to travel the route that the Government has stalled upon, I am aware of the natural order of things and will do my best to maintain them.

The phrase for today is 'tipuna' - to provide a gratuity to Charlie Chaplin's widow.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004


Although the lack of an invitation prevented me from attending the annual Academy Awards ceremony I shared the nation’s pride in our 11 Oscars. Even though most of the credit will inevitably go to the 25,000 people who worked on the film, I feel justified in describing them as “our Oscars” because “our” taxes paid for them [vid. NZ Listener 1896-2004, passim.]. In much the same way, we are entitled to refer to “our Maoris” because it is our taxes that subsidise their lavish lifestyles in the Far North and East Coast and their health care in South Auckland.

Maori loser Keisha Castle Hughes was a credit to her people, reflecting a long tradition of acknowledging defeat with good grace and losing the power of speech when confronted by a good-looking white man.

I noticed the publicity-seeking Prime Minister participated in some vulgar hoopla at Wellington’s Embassy Theatre thus ensuring her photo appeared in all the politically correct media.
The half dozen true cineastes who accepted my invitation to watch the awards on Sammy’s wide-screen television set all said they enjoyed the chance to watch the ceremony in absolute silence and savour every nuance over the four hours. The experience was only marred when Sammy stood up to adjust the volume at a crucial moment and thus prevented us seeing Peter Jackson receive his best director award.

The phrase for today is “Uruk-hai” - how to explain to a Japanese person they look intoxicated.

Monday, March 01, 2004


Whenever Sammy opens his mouth, things emerge - some of them amazing. His ability to cut through the core and eat his way to the surface of an issue is without peer.
By calling a certain smarty-pants Church do-gooder names on Linda Clark's National Nine Til Noon this morning, Sammy managed to put a human face onto an otherwise boring debate.
Hopefully these ecclesiastical busybodies will now stop inserting their crosiers where they’re not wanted and return to their time-honoured activities of fair-opening, alcoholism and the sin which is named for the City of the Plains.
Forget citing anonymous facts and figures, Sammy is as aware as I am that two percent is a minuscule amount and that nobody would even notice it if it went missing. Which is why we need to personalise politics in order to restore the bloodlust of a once-passionate
And like an enormous madeleine, Sammy is able to conjure up vivid widescreen images of a bygone past.
A past where New Zealanders lived (and Maoris sang) in harmony.
A past, in fact, too good to be true.
I'm certainly going back for seconds.

Meanwhile, I’m pleased to see our strategies are already getting results. I have received anecdotal reports that Maoris illegally studying in New Zealand tertiary institutions under divisive quota systems are being engaged by legitimate students in dialogue on their eligibility to be there. The Maoris are “taking this on board” as street parlance would have it - their work is suffering and they are reverting to the bowed-head, stooped shoulders and shuffling gait of their ancestors.

Finally, good luck to all those New Zealanders who have been nominated in this year’s Academy Awards presentation. And the Maori girl.

The phrase for today is 'Keisha Castle-Hughes' - colours for fortified palaces more closely resembling a French tart made with cheese and eggs.

Friday, February 27, 2004


The vexed question of schoolchildren and jewellery is with us again.
A New Zealand girl has been forced to leave her school because she is not allowed to wear a crystal necklace that has a calming effect on her.
The girl in question was called into a teacher's office where her necklace was cut off, according to a report in The New Zealand Herald and Colonial Times.
How's that for a double standard?
If a Maori girl was treated like this, in the current climate, I don't think she would dare to complain.
Meanwhile, at the same school, the children of Maoris are allowed to flaunt their taongas - greenstone or bone carvings (Whose bones? You might well ask!) - with impunity.
I have a great deal of sympathy with the young lady in question. At the Reserve Bank I found harnessing the strength of crystals gave me extraordinary power over dark, unseen economic forces which threatened our land. Mandrake and catspaw were also very effective.
My personal view is that jewellery is best left unseen - a simple Prince Albert or nipple clamp is both decorative and decorous and does not run the risk of offending people, such as New Zealanders, for whom the sight of jewellery is repugnant.
Having said that, however, a National government will refuse to be ruled by superstition, and permit the wearing of magic crystals by New Zealanders and Maoris.

Today's phrase is 'tapu' - to give thanks for being regular.

Thursday, February 26, 2004


I was quite impressed by Willie Jackson on the Holmes show last night.
Susan asked him questions, and although inflamed with the passion of his species, he managed to answer some of them without going completely berko.
Judging by his self-control, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a bit of New Zealander in him.
Anyway, Willie Jackson says I'm on half a million dollars a year.
Well, he's wrong.
In order to serve my country properly, I had to take a wage cut. And I can tell you that the Brash household has suffered the full impact of my reduced circumstances.
And to be specific, I'm earning marginally less than one hundred thousand a year but only quite a bit more than the minimum wage.
While on the subject of being specific, the usual wags are saying that I'm angrying up the nation's blood with my sweeping generalisations and inability to supply plausible evidence that those Maoris are taking us for a ride.
Well let's look at that for a moment.
If I were to isolate facts and details and point fingers at individuals (as my critics suggest) then I'd be turning the entire debate into some poll-motivated witch hunt.
And that smacks of racism.
Incidentally, that Susan's a marvelous interviewer.
Holmes is lucky to be married to such a woman.

Today's phrase is 'tutai' - when one's colon is knotted.

Wednesday, February 25, 2004

Let me clear up something.
Critics are eager to seize on the fact that I'll withdraw funding from universities with special entry programmes for Maoris but they didn't bother to ask what I'd offer in their place.
Two words; grief counselling.
If we place a few grief counsellors in the universities that Maoris are likely to attend under my new regime (maybe we can just use the one counsellor - he or she can drive from AUT to Carrington in less than half an hour) then we'd produce a workforce-friendly Maori.
Well ... after a couple of sessions with the grief counsellor, the Maori will see the error of his ways, only attend the hole-in-the-ground bit of a tangi and be back on the road crew by 2pm.
Life goes on my Maori friend, life goes on.

Trevor Mallard is no match for Gerry "Sammy" Brownlee and I'm looking forward to their first televised debate.
If you believe the adage "the camera adds on the pounds" then Gerry will certainly lend the required gravitas to his ministerial pronouncements.
Or at the very least squeeze Mallard out of the picture.

The phrase for today is 'hongi' - to inhale food.

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

My speech was very well received in Invercargill last night. Given the local repertory society was presenting a home-grown production of The Sinking of the Mikhail Lermontov, I regard my full house as quite an achievement.
The local Maori was out in force and told me after my presentation that he had never laughed so much in his life. Good to know my well-honed quips are finding their mark.

I'm disappointed that Trevor Mallard has decided not to close down schools in far away places inhabited by Maoris. No matter. I'll get Bill onto it where we're in. I've got Bill busy developing our education policy at the moment and I've given him a few ideas:

1. More slates for schools in remote areas

2. A National government will guarantee to keep kiddies' inkwells full at all times.

3. Compulsory bullrush

I have received a letter from one Mel Gibson, apparently a film-maker, regarding the possibility of producing a version of my life for the silver screen. It raises the intriguing possibility of who would play me - George Sanders, perhaps, or Leslie Howard. Both are excellent performers, but if I had my way, the role would go to James Stewart.

Today's phrase is 'morena' - a request for repeats of ancient episodes of Coronation Street

Monday, February 23, 2004


John Spong - remarkable guy - said that most of the conventional Christian beliefs, like the resurrection, were such that 20th century mankind simply could not reconcile them with any reality they knew. This resonated with me. I told my father I'd read this, and he said, "Yeah, that's right."
He was, to my surprise, quite comfortable with this.

I've got three children and you can't be unaware of what the world is like when you have children.
My adult son Alan was the concept originator for The Strip.
I've watched a bit of it, and I said to him, 'Alan, this is not really my kind of TV programme.' He said, 'That's not surprising, Dad, you're not the target demographic.' Which was women, aged 18-39.
So I'm not totally unaware of what the rest of the world does.

Work is the adrenalin I believe. SInce I've been in politics, going around making speeches, the constant adrenalin rush seems to have kept me healthy. I haven't had a cold in two years.

Today's phrase: wahine - exclamation of someone alarmed by the noise made by a stallion

Friday, February 20, 2004


Ranginui Walker says my intentions are to abolish the Maori Television Service and the Maori Language Commission amongst other things.
Now that's stretching the frayed elastic of truth to breaking point.
Providing that they make their intentions understandable to all New Zealanders and speak in English then these Maori organizations can do whatever they want. One of the things they might want to do if they're interested in receiving ongoing funding from a National government is commission a dramatisation of - in my view - an unjustly neglected masterpiece on the theme of bicultural relations, The Half Gallon Jar by that great literary kaumatua, Hori. We used to have neighbours like that when I was a lad. (In fact, it was through them that I grew to admire and respect our Maoris, py korry (!) In fact if the scriptwriters were ever short of inspiration, I'm sure I could supply them with anecdotes both heartwarming and humorous.
And one of my favourite comedians, Billy T James - it's a disgrace that he doesn't have his own show anymore. Why aren't we using more of our fine Maori talent onscreen.
The problem I find with nostalgia is that so often it fills my baby blues with tears - and I'm man enough to admit to being embarrassed by the very emotion it distills.
That's why we should all leave our sepia-toned, liver-spotted snapshots of a kinder, gentler world in the attic.
They have no place in a future of a kind I insist we all look forward to.

The phrase for today is 'tena kotou' - a garment used by vocalists in place of socks.

Thursday, February 19, 2004


I had a marvelous idea for a television documentary last night.
It's called 'Pakeha Brown' and will tell uplifting stories about Maoris who have lived amongst New Zealanders.
It will show what an open-minded and caring society we could have if only a few agitators toed the line.
I say 'few' because, as you're all well aware, Maori support for the National Party is at an all-time high and we haven't heard of this level of support from our Maoris since the last time I mentioned it.
This morning, Rodney slipped a congratulatory note under the door of my cubicle which simply said "Up Yours" - further evidence of the kind of buzz our polls have generated amongst potential coalition partners. Talk about a "document leak"! Ho! Ho!
Which neatly segues into my next pithy observation.
I have some sympathy for Lianne Dalziel. It must be awful being exposed publicly as a buffoon and made the subject of ridicule.
A National Government would have avoided such a situation by eliminating immigration altogether.
All except for the right kind of immigrants, of course.
I'm so proud of Sammy's performance with that Kim woman last night. He's definitely going to be allowed to eat his carrot stick off the special red plate at caucus this week.I've seen him looking at it jealously on the top of the china cabinet. Sammy's finally learnt that it doesn't matter what you say as long as you sound like you believe it - knowledge that got me out of many a scrape at the Reserve Bank during all those years when the economy was sailing into oblivion, I can tell you.
Now, if I've been sounding a little down on the woeful state of the media lately then let me inject some positivity by stating that I see a bright light on the horizon and it's called 'Suzy Aiken'.
This darling of a female news presenter contacted me via email recently in order to "prep" (journalistic jargon) for an upcoming interview.
I agreed to the interview with the proviso that she asked me things that other journalists have ignored in favour of grinding their axes.
Quick as a fox, she emailed me back and said.
"I understand exactly what you're saying! I think it will be rilly kewl if we got to know more about the real you. There's a lot of questions that have been burning in my head . For instance, what does 'Don' stand for?"

The phrase for today is 'Mat Rata' - what the Labour Party used to wipe its feet on.

Wednesday, February 18, 2004


I was making a comfort stop earlier today when Rodney Hide mumbled something in my ear.
I didn't get a chance to reply because by the time I turned around, he was gone.
Bless the wee man's heart. We rarely get the chance to chat and more often than not I miss him.
Maybe it's got something to do with my aversion to looking down on others.
So Rodney, if you're reading this, I will go and "duck my health" as you suggested because I know a wonderful Chinese restaurant in the city and I've got a hankering for some Peking.
Lord knows I deserve a treat every now and again.

I've been doing some fine tuning on the tax cuts plan.
Having united the people behind my vision of a society that knows no racial differences I will now reform the economy. I'll have to work like a nigger, but somebody's got to do it.
Leaving people with more money in their pockets means they will use it to oil the mighty economic wheels of our nation.
However I've decided the tax cuts should only be for those making a real contribution to the economy by earning over $100,000 a year - agency creatives, PR people, Charlotte Dawson.
Anyone under that threshhold wouldn't be getting enough to oil the wheels of a wind-up plastic mouse.

My, but that Deborah Coddington's a fine looking woman.
I'd be happy to enter into a merger with her any day.

The phrase for today is 'ka kite' - the small thing sticking out of the ignition.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004


I'm thinking of making a complaint to the BSA after last night's Holmes show. What a mauling.
I know I'm supposed to complain to TVNZ first, but last time I went directly to Fraser all I got was a form letter with two tickets to an evening of Indian dance and the Big Night In soundtrack CD.
Many of Holmes' questions were entirely inappropriate.
Was I the greatest National Party leader ever?
(Too soon to say.)
Was I the messiah?
(Risked offending religious groups.)
Was I really 200 pounds of horse-hung love machine?
(I'll let my record speak for itself.)
At one point I got so flustered I used; "I can't be racist. My wife's Asian" which caused me no end of consternation as I was going to save that for a king-hit in the election campaign. Dash!
I am getting sick of being tagged as a single-issue guy.
I'm not just talking about Maoris getting special treatment in welfare.
I'm talking about Maoris getting special treatment in education.
I'm talking about Maoris making New Zealanders do hongis (a filthy practice - I prefer my meat cooked the old-fashioned way in a microwave).
I'm talking about Maoris having far too many of their canoes in museums. Incidentally, where are the Pakeha canoes in our museums?
I'm talking about Maoris always having their battle thing done before test matches. I myself think some traditional Irish dancing would be a pleasant change, and equally intimidating to the opposing team if performed by the All Blacks.

There seems to be something odd going on over at ACT.
I passed Richard in the hall this morning and said hello, and he blushed and giggled then ran into the toilet.
And he keeps giving me the strangest looks in the House.
Will get Sammy to investigate further.

Oh, I thought of a joke!
If you put me and John Tami-something and Sammy together and you had an Irish accent, would we be "tree fellers"?

The phrase for today is 'tohunga' - man with a very small penis.

Monday, February 16, 2004


Ah, Rotorua! Pauline would love it here.
I can't describe the warmth of the welcome I've received, both from Maoris and from New Zealanders. There have been so many highlights I don't know where to begin.
From the moment I arrived, I was struck by the warmth of the welcome. As my motorcade drove into the town, bright-eyed tykes ran alongside the car, flashing me the victory sign and calling out greetings in their quaint native tongue. I must get to work on my tee Rio and find out what "wanka wanka" means in English.
Rotorua is a very good example of the sort of special treatment for Maori I have been talking about for the past few weeks. Large numbers of them seem to live in luxurious hotel-like complexes, wearing obviously expensive uniform attire, presumably to indicate their tribal affiliation. There also seems to be a rampant alcohol problem, as many of them stroll around holding bottles of expensive wine.
Fortunately, the old ways are still hewed to in some quarters, notably in the Maori village of Whaka-something. I paused here in my progress to throw a gold coin into the water near the village entrance. Several cheerful picanninies dived in after it, to the amusement of all. This happy scene was marred, however, when, having retrieved my doubloon, one of the little scamps attempted to make off with it. I had to chase the urchin to get it back. This is the welfare state gone mad!
Later, I was taken on a guided tour and privileged to be led along a secret path, ignoring the "Warning do not walk here" signs. In a further mark of deference I was permitted to go first. I expect to be out of hospital and back on the road tomorrow.

The phrase for today is 'Haere Ra' - to employ an Egyptian deity.

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