Corin Dann is TV1’s chief parliamentary
journalist. He usually tells us things
from outside the parliament buildings in Wellington, against the backdrop of
the Beehive, or occasionally in the front lobby against the backdrop of that
curious old-fashioned lift with metal grilles and a clanking concertinering
metal door. I suppose all that is long
protected by the Heritage Trust. These
elevators used to feature in old movies with Humphrey Bogart. Corin relates everything with measured
emphasis and confidence, and an honest, square-jawed manner. He gives the impression of having Sources
whose identity is seriously hidden and who live dangerously. All of that I can manage, if he gets his
facts right.
What I find silly is his enslavement to the
word Look…! But look…! – and then he
goes right on to tell us something else.
It’s silly, it’s trendy, it’s unnecessary. I do not appreciate being told to Look…! But it seems to be catching on as a hallmark
of on-the-button reportage. Discipline
yourself, Corin. Do without it.
…………………………………….
Smiling John Key has just announced that our
next General Election will be on 20 September.
He and his strutting, smiling National party – Judith Collins, ye gods
-- feel as though they are on a roll right now.
David Cunliffe stumbled and staggered into leadership of the Labour
Party, and so far does not impress me.
I want to vote Green this time, mainly because
they do have principles – and because I think the time has gone for haggling
about the environment. The weather is
clearly moving towards the more ferocious around the world, and it does seem
that our carbon and other emissions are a large factor. We are wondering what on earth, literally,
our grandchildren are going to inherit and will have to survive. While NZ is
isolated and small, the weather does not know national boundaries, and everyone
affects everything.
Green doesn’t have a political hope, I
realize. They are routinely ridiculed
and caricatured, often with an anger which makes me even surer that they have
struck oil (if I may be pardoned the phrase).
Some of the things they say, I wish they hadn’t. But still, I intend to vote Green. Ten years younger, I would go out and work
for them. But they are in love with
meetings. That horrifies me. I loathe meetings.
My sister says she has always voted National
(and always will). That seems to be the end of the matter. Ye gods.
So did old Tom, our father.
Phrases such as a safe pair of hands, are much loved by Tory supporters,
who want only safety and continuity. My
brother seems enraptured by the reactionary government of Tony Abbott in
Australia.
Only tonight we had an item about the serious
continuing pollution of NZ waterways by runoff from dairy farms – and a highly
defensive statement from some Federated Farmers luminary (who turns out to be
the brother of Key’s Minister of Finance).
They dispute the charges of pollution and wish to continue, “steady as
she goes”, a classic, vote-winning phrase of one of their heroes long ago,
former PM, Smiling Keith Holyoake.
But dairy farming is a filthy, loathsome
operation – the runoff is horrendous – and I am increasingly sure the industry,
however hallowed, is seriously inefficient as a means of producing milk and animal
protein. It is sad indeed to see the
Canterbury Plains now given over to dairy farming. It is not dairy country. The vast irrigation needs too are a huge
issue – but the Tories will always support their own.
I’m voting Green.
………………………………………….
‘Flu shots are available again. I had mine this morning. There is a neat little public health ambush
up at the local doctors’ surgery’—you go in there for something else
altogether, and find some large nurse coming at you with a needle. It’s free, I gather, for Senior Cits. This way, thousands of our senior locals get
immunized, allegedly, against whatever hideous ‘flu strains are coming out of
Asia currently.
But we had a little bit of drama. An elderly bloke walked in, I think to get a
dressing changed.
Receptionist: Time for your ‘flu shot, Sir.
Elderly B: Eh…?
Receptionist: ‘Flu shot… They’re available now.
E B : What’s available?
R: Influenza, your
injection which you’re supposed to have every year.
E B : Never heard of it.
R : You had one last
year, I see…
E B : Eh…?
R : You’ve had it
before.
E B : I’m ‘ere for me
dressing. I’ve got an appointment.
R : You can have your
‘flu shot while you’re here. It saves
you another visit.
E B : What’s it bloody for…?
The receptionist gave
up. Leave it to the GP. The silly old coot was younger than I am, but
he has dropped off a few million more neurones than I have, so far, if indeed
he ever had them.
