The End Of The Golden Weather

The End Of The Golden Weather continues on from Giving Socialism A Human Face

Christmas tradition returns

Bruce Mason

Frank Sargeson

Janet Frame

Maurice Gee

Carl Stead

Charlotte Grimshaw

Keith Sinclair

Lloyd Geering

Steven Eldred-Grigg

Denis Glover

John Key

Joel Hayward

David Bain

Peter Ellis

Clayton Weatherston

Ben Smart and Olivia Hope

Jules Mikus

Witi Ihimaera

Allan Duff

Keri Hulme

Helen Clark

John Tamahere

Bob Jones

Tim Shadbolt

Earthquakes

Manmade Disasters

Republicanism

Mark Lundy

Allan Titford

Leviathan Auckland

The tryst that shocked and bemused Auckland

Retirement in the Covid era

CHRISTMAS TRADITION RETURNS

After last year's lockdown enforced cancellation, one of Takapuna's most loved annual events. End of the Golden Weather, returns to Takapuna Beach for the 17th time this Christmas Morning.

EGW17 honours one of Takapuna's favourite sons-Bruce Mason who was brought up on Takapuna beach. His most iconic play evokes the sights sounds, and memories of a beachside kiwi family Christmas in the 1930s.

It is filled with laughs and sees the day through the eyes of a child leading up to a carefully planned family Christmas pageant-until it all goes awry.

Now seen by many thousands over the years, EGW17 is the perfect way to celebrate Christmas.

I met Bruce Mason in a hotel in1980. He came into the hotel to stick up posters. "I said. "Are you Bruce Mason?' He said, "Yes" and walked out.

Bruce Mason was always the indigenous playwright and actor. His plays were solo performed by Bruce in towns throughout New Zealand from the 1950s. They were also staged in radio and television dramas. No bright lights in the West End for him. Roger Hall, the English born and Kiwi since a young man has had that accolade as a comic writer many times.

The End of the Golden Weather is now a part of New Zealand Christmases. Its title is a proverbial byword in New Zealand. In 1991, The End of the Golden Weather was made into a highly successful New Zealand film. A highlight and the denouement of the play is a riot by unemployed workers. The film director chose to omit that scene. The new neoliberal Government might not have taken kindly to that scene and threatened State financing. More likely, the distress of the 1930s unemployed workers had no resonance in 1991. In 1984, there was a riot in Queen street Auckland that repeated the mayhem of the 1932 Queen street unemployed workers' riot. But this time, despite both being initiated by a musician, the rioters were hedonists.

The most artful New Zealand playwright was Robert Lord. Only he could transcend the intellectual and capture the Kiwi vernacular. In his plays, Bert and Maisy and Joyful and Triumphant, he shows the Kiwis' opaque language. He out Pinters Pinter in that his dialogue really is banal. Then in a flash, the motives and emotions are laid before us. Robert is that rare intellectual who likes Kiwis. He lived several years in New York. His plays were performed in New Zealand, in New York off-Broadway, and in Toronto. Robert a quiet but

also flamboyant gay man died at forty six of HIV or maybe of Doctor Fauci.

Short story writer and novelist, Frank Sargeson in his garden in Takapuna, Auckland 1932.

In 1977, I met Frank at the Auckland New Independent Theatre. Someone pointed out to me an old man up a ladder with a paint brush. In about the same year, I recognised John A Lee with his arm stump from World War One, walking past me on an Auckland bridge. Four more decades have passed since then. Now I am the elderly man tapping on my desk top computer to the world. Frank was born Norris Davey in Hamilton, the Waikato. Norris' life, son of the town clerk and Methodist moral campaigner, in an agricultural town on a river plain was as dull as it seems. There were few Maoris to enliven the scene, they having been chased out four decades before. The pioneering stock of Hamilton appeared to know nothing about them. Hamilton had been named after a British officer killed fighting the Maoris. His parents were however good people who after Norris committed a transgression in their eyes, likely worse than murder, established their son as a working author. In 1929, Norris was arrested in a hotel homosexual encounter. Norris had spent the two previous years in the United Kingdom. The British police took a lenient approach to the homosexual scene. But in puritanical New Zealand, Norris was mercilessly hunted down. Given a two year suspended sentence and reported in the newspaper, Frank retreated to farm labouring life on his uncle's farm. In 1931, Frank settled down in his parents' holiday cottage, (a bach) in Takapuna, a beach side borough. Auckland loomed nine kilometres away but it required a ferry to reach it. So Frank Sargeson as he now called himself, could live as a recluse, beachcomber. Frank was practical and so made his home a self-sufficient Eden. He lived there until the end of his life in 1982. His first writing endeavours did not give him a living income, and so Frank took Government Depression relief work. However relief work faded out but not the wage. So Frank was able to replace his spade with a pen. This was a Marxist literary era. The new authors strove to replicate the workers and the unemployeds' way of life and language. However their readers and audiences remained middle class. Workers they educated joined the middle class. By 1935, Frank enjoyed a New Zealand literary reputation, with his short stories published in the left wing magazine Tomorrow. Tuberculosis excused him from World War Two and granted him an invalid pension. Frank Sargeson's life has contemporary parallels with George Orwell whose family name was Eric Blair. Eric too abandoned a respectable life for a bohemian literary life. I am not the first to suggest Eric was a closet homosexual. Being homosexual was a distinct advantage for left wing authors. Only between the bed sheets or in alley ways might they gain an insight into the proletariat. However Orwell was never caught for reasons explained above. Frank established a literary reputation in English speaking countries. His Collected Stories in 1964 and 1965 were praised and given introductions by two other Queens, Bill Pearson and E.M Forster. New Zealand was a country of a few million with small cities. Like Scotland in the eighteenth century, its intellectuals could meet regularly and gossip about their latest literary and household endeavours. As the earliest notable one in left wing literary circles, Frank made himself their doyen. His Takapuna Eden, embellished with a new more homely bach and large garden in 1948, became the magnet for all aspiring and established European Auckland intellectuals. By the 1970s, there were Maori authors but it seems none visited Franks's Eden. New Zealand's voluntary apartheid extended to New Zealand's culture also. It wasn't thought about by people who protested fervently about South Africa. In 1990, after Frank's death, a sign was put outside his bach. "Here a truly New Zealand literature had its beginnings." An epitaph that seems surprisingly several decades out of date. The cultural apartheid had not been extinguished.

Janet Frame who had much more than a nodding acquaintance with Frank Sargeson and his Eden. Janet was a daughter of a New Zealand railway worker. Her childhood was marked by domiciles in small railway towns in Otago and Southland. She was internationally renowned for her work, which includes novels, short stories, poetry, juvenile fiction, and an autobiography adapted into a movie, An Angel At My Table. Frame's celebrity derived from her personal history as well as her literary career. Following years of psychiatric hospitalisation, Frame was scheduled for a lobotormy. It was cancelled when days before the procedure, her debut publication of short stories was awarded a national literary prize. In her life before her celebrity, she experienced traumas of deaths of her adolescent two sisters, and epileptic seizures of her brother. She was haunted she had caused the epileptic seizures of her brother from childhood. She trained as a teacher. Her teaching was quite successful until a visit to her classroom by a school inspector. She got fright and walked out never to return to teaching. She had fallen into the baneful influence of her Psychology University Lecturer, Doctor John Money. She took therapy from him and wrote him an essay how she was contemplating suicide. He promptly had her admitted to the psychiatric ward of the Dunedin Public hospital. Maybe Doctor Money saved her sanity and maybe even her life. But for the rest of her life, Doctor Money's visits seemed to be always a prelude for mental illness and hospitalisation.

Doctor John Money above and Doctor Milton Diamond below him. They look like Eric Fromm and Stephen Spielberg. Both won international acclaim. Money was a psychologist sexologist, Diamond was a medical doctor sexologist. They once reputedly came to blows over their contrasting transsexual diagnoses. Money started his research on the same academic premises of Diamond. Males are males and females are females. The sexologists' role was humane guidance of the normals and the transexuals into their nature assigned roles. Diamond stayed there in his research. Money went into orbit and arguably started the LGBTQ revolution. Some might call both of them dirty old Jewish men.

In New Zealand, John was the patron of Janet Frame and visual artists, including Rita Angus In North America he is indissolubly linked to the Canadian Raimer twins. The inverse of the magician Uncle Andrew in C.S. Lewis' children's book, The Magician's Nephew, he took the Raimer boys on a miserable journey into transexualism. He had Bruce Raimer castrated after a disastrous medical error, and turned into a girl to prove gender is nurture based. He appears to have coined the term gender to mean a socially constructed role as male or female. In a myriad of medical reports, John's castration therapy progressed with dazzling success. John wrote all of them. He soon progressed into many more cases and "cures" in North America. Bruce as Brenda was bullied and called cavewoman. When Brenda found out the deception, she changed herself back to boy David at age fourteen. David committed suicide. His twin brother Brian had died of an antidepressant overdose two years earlier. Doctor Money still has his multitude of supporters. In 2003, the new Zealand Prime Minister Helen Clark, apparently oblivious that Money forced the Raimer twins to simulate sex on each other, opened the John Money wing of his art collection at the Eastern Southland Gallery. Morrinsville in the North Island is famous as the home town of John Money and Jacinda Ardern.

To Maurice Gee I bow my head in humility. His Plumb novel trilogy transmutes his austere grandfather Presbyterian Minister James Chapple into a fictional character in a coat of many colours.

To quote Wikipedia. "The Plumb trilogy is a series of three novels written by New Zealand author Maurice Gee: Plumb (1978) Meg (1981) and Sole Survivor (1983). The trilogy follows the lives of a New Zealand family across three generations, exploring the impacts of history, politics and religion on the family, and has been described by New Zealand writers and literary critics as one of the greatest achievements in New Zealand literature."

Maurice is the sort of Kiwi author I would like being next door to. I Imagine myself in a friendly emphatic discourse or just giving him a friendly wave as he works in his garden, fixes his plumbing or drives off in his second hand car. Never of course would I publicise my neighbour except in nonchalant name dropping. Bernard Shaw's neighbour was James Barrie and they dodged each other.

Retired Professor of English, Carl Stead outside apparently a dunny (public bathroom). He appears to be declaiming against the dummies in society. A lumiere in the circle of intellectuals who swarmed around such literary periodicals, as Landfall . Literary work was judged primarily on its literary merits. One graduated through short stories and poems into becoming a book author. That gave writing a certain academic pretentiousness. Post the seminal year 1981, authorship has become increasingly ideological and identity politics. One is mostly a woman, or a Maori, or gay author. The heterosexual male experience rarely gets past the feminist editors. Now it is woke totalitarianism. Authors have become national celebrities, their works served up with wine and cheese. Carl a stalwart left winger who spent a night in a police cell for protesting the Springbok tour, resisted this. His comments became increasingly red neck rather than erudite. New Zealand intellectuals don't form a class of public intellectuals. Fiction writers only attend fiction writers' seminars. Historians only attend history writers' seminars. Like manual labourers in New Zealand only mix with manual labourers. Carl once ruminated. He is one of those people with the distinction when he enters a room, people leave. I met him once at a literary affair in Palmerston North. He got quite chatty with me until he was steered away by the literary committee. Over twenty years ago, he wrote in a private letter. "Lloyd should be taken seriously." Carl's historical fiction are memorable. his postmodern writing is unreadable at least to me. But perhaps I just get bored with navel gazing fiction. It survives in New Zealand on State subsidies and only a few hundred people appear to read it. Most of them I suspect give up on them also. I would abolish all State support for authors. The authors to support themselves should go out and get a job. As George Orwell wrote. "After all what else is there to write about?" Carl's one commercially popular book was his novel Smith's Dream. Written in his angry protest against the Vietnam War and American Imperialism, he imagined a Mr Smith caught up in a tyrannical dystopia New Zealand. The State Security building and torture chamber is the former Chemistry Block of Auckland University. It lay brutally over his English Department office. Smith's Dream was made into a gutsy Kiwi movie Sleeping Dogs.

The Stead family at a literary award ceremony. Second from left, Carl's daughter, Charlotte Grimshaw, third from left, the Maori lady host, fourth from left Carl. Actually, the Maori lady is Carl's long term wife and mother of Charlotte, Kay. She was adamant she had no Maori blood and was pure English and Irish. In her memoir, The Mirror Book, Charlotte treats lightly she and her mother being thought to be Maori. She unequivocally denies the school yard joke about her mother's "pa sneaking". However, Charlotte offers a tantalising alternate history. When her mother and she would visit a supermarket, they would be trailed by an elderly Maori man who would spend a lot of energy trying to persuade her to tell him her Maori genealogical links. She always denied it but did not try to stop him.

I encountered Carl's Auckland pub poetry readings. I recall his Catullus' references. I was perhaps the only other one who understood their genre. I met him once. I recall a genial gentle man with post World War Two left wing principles. I was surprised to read in Charlotte's memoir, she portrayed him as a womaniser and of violent reactionary character. He let his children roam wildly and dangerously. Charlotte was put into the bottom school class filled up mostly with Polynesians. She was called Kina, sea urchin, at school for her spiky hair. She, according to her memoir, joined the criminal underside of urban life, commonly associated with Maori. She has survived into adult life and turned herself into an accomplished literary author. In the memoir, nothing of her pre literary life in thieving and arson seemed to bother her English Professor father. He seemed to be too up in himself. Or maybe he thought trying to control her was useless.

Reading the literature of Carl and Charlotte, I felt they both drank from the same poisoned chalice. That is State patronage. I recall when I tried to join the New Zealand literary scene, I always drafted my writing with a ghost censor standing over my right shoulder. I would whisper to myself, "Will this get past Mary Chamberlain?" Carl's literary break throughs pre dated Ms Chamberlain." My literary attempts are contemporary with Charlotte. But Charlotte appears in spirit to be a soul mate of Ms Chamberlain. Ms Chamberlain is a nice person who knows she is a nice person. That is not me who, as Bing Bot ruminated, "Writes offensively sometimes and engagingly". Literature has many houses.

Carl's writing suffers from over rarified, Charlotte's writing from over sordid and neurotic.I have read some of Charlotte's short stories. Masterpiece short stories start understated and end with a shocking twist. Charlotte's start with a shock and end with a fizzle. Her short story Opportunity is a masterpiece among the droll. Its climatic ending sent a shiver up my spine. Charlotte writes she has emulated the interwoven Human Comedy fiction of Balzac. I once remarked to some associates, I felt I wrote like Lewis Carrol. They turned on me brutally. "What makes you think you are as good as Lewis Carrol?" I only meant that we we are both partly deaf. Charlotte can prattle on her stuff while I must always among Kiwis sink in a hole. I however have it over her. Anything I achieve is from my own merit. Since her "Daddy Dearest" memoir, father and daughter have not been in good terms. If they could overcome their rancour, they could collaborate to write an antipodean Human Comedy that might hold a candle to Balzac.

Charlotte's mother Kay who was a University librarian once remarked to Charlotte about a novel of hers, Foreign City, "I couldn't imagine where you got all that stuff. About painting. How on earth?"

That is so New Zealand, not just among the uncouth.

"I studied art history. I've got a B.A." Charlotte said.

Kay fought her employment requirement for years that she needed a degree for promotion in her University library. I was pleased to read she failed. In New Zealand, apart from teaching which many B.A. Graduates are unsuited for, librarian work has been all that their degree has left to them.

New Zealand film director Peter Jackson hobbitnobbing with Hollywood mogul movie producer, Harvey Weinstein. Harvey committed the only unforgivable crime in Hollywood. He produced a movie sympathetic to the Palestinians. Peter has always been careful. His movies never touch on contemporary shibboleths. However in his 1995 New Zealand mockumentary, Forgotten Silver, Peter hinted that the official versions of history can be fraudulent. The commentator of Forgotten Silver spoke in a deadly serious BBC accent the most ridiculous and impossible of tales. Most of the viewers including myself, believed every word. Peter as soon as he could hold a camera was making home movies. He has never appeared to read a book except to turn it into a movie. The original slender Peter first entered the international celebrity scene as director of the New Zealand 1994 movie, Heavenly Creatures. This movie was based on the 1954 Parker-Hulme murder case in Christchurch. Two school girls from Christchurch Girls' High School conspired and murdered in a park the Parker mother. This matricide rocked staid New Zealand that a year before had welcomed Queen Elizabeth only a decade older than the girls. Their ages saved them from a hanging. The case has spawned half a dozen or so French, English, American, Australian Canadian, and New Zealand creative works. The sordid case seems to inspire second league creative talent. Both school girls had debilitating illnesses and that bonded them into romantic creative fantasies. Juliet, who became the famous English murder detective author Anne Perry, explained that she had been hallucinating on prescribed drugs. Young people lead each other on and mostly stop themselves before catastrophe.

In 2001-3 the 281 million dollar American and New Zealand trilogy of Lord of the Rings were released. Peter Jackson directed them and in collaboration with three other Kiwis wrote their screenplays. The three movies were shot simultaneously in New Zealand in October 1999 until end of December 2000. The trilogy are considered one of the greatest and most influential film series ever made. Their box office is over ten times their budget. It won seventeen Oscars, including best picture.

Tweed coated early and mid twentieth century Oxford Professor Tolkien was the Lord of the Rings author. The Professor was a linguist who lived an entirely academic life. He never learnt how to operate twentieth century technology. The movie trilogy is a morphing of early twenty first century movie technology and Medievalism. Hobbiton, now a tourist attraction, was a former movie set of Lord of The Rings. New Zealand has become identified with Hobbiton and its elfin Hobbits. When I said I was from New Zealand to Chinese students., they would usually reply dreamily, "Beautiful country". The Waipoua Forest Stone City and Hobbiton both lie in the heart of the North Island. In my more deranged moments, I imagine the Professor had powers to conjure up the ancient past. Stone City was the habitat of the original hobbits?

Waipoua Forest Stone City

Hobbiton

Waipoua Forest Stone City up top. Hobbiton former movie set of Lord Of The Rings and the Hobbit trilogy below. Both are in the heart of the North Island. An official archaeological dig in 1983 confirmed the stone structures in Stone City are man made.. But further research has been officially embargoed for fifty years until 2063. Its carbon dating pre dates Polynesian settlement by several thousand years. Such is the enforcement of the closing of New Zealand history.

Kiri Te Kanawa. I recall a person telling me she looked at her Gisborne primary school class photograph and was astonished to find the shy Maori girl she hardly remembered was Kiri Te Kanawa. Kiwi was born in Gisborne. As an infant she was adopted by a Maori trucker business man. Her family moved to Auckland so she could receive high school operating training by a famous nun teacher, Sister Mary Niccol. The school was Saint Mary's College founded in Auckland in 1850. Kiri was an international soprano opera singer. In 1974, in a fairy tale happy ending, she replaced an ill prima donna at the last moment, and performed as Desdemona in Otello in the New York Metropolitan Opera. Her star since that debut ever shone brighter until her retirement in 2017. Her attachment to New Zealand has never ended despite once incurring Kiwi ire by calling them "small minded'. I recall her performance in the 1979 movie production of Dion Giovanni. I was struck that not only could she sing like a lark but she had charisma and could act. She was seen and heard around the world in 1981 by an estimated six hundred million people when she sang, Let The Bright Seraphim at the ill fated marriage of the Prince of Wales and Lady Diana. At the dawn of the year 2000, she sang at the Gisborne waterfront accompanied by the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra and the Waihirere Maori Club, the opera world's and Maori New Zealand's most popular songs. I was there and vividly recall her and her accompaniments' harmonious sounds wafting over the land and sea. In 2006, she sang, Happy Birthday and God Save The Queen to Queen Elizabeth at the Commonwealth Games in Australia.

Gisborne in the North Island. New Zealand cities and towns are characteristically ugly. They birthed in the same era as the industrial revolution. Their founders built their urban centres for mammon, not aesthetics. Laid out in the mode of the wild west American towns, Gisborne has one main street Gladstone road in image above. The clock tower in Gladstone road stands parallel to a replica of Captain Cook's Endeavour that landed at the Turanganui river a few kilometres distant. That landing in 1769 made New Zealand part of world history and geography. The Endeavour replica and its twin no longer stand in Gisborne. They were moved for repairs and secretly vandalised in a Council shed. Despite fund raising attempts, they have never been rebuilt. If they were, they too would be destroyed by tribalists. Gisborne is named after a New Zealand statesman, and its two main streets, Gladstone and Disraeli, named after British statesmen. All these historical names are on borrowed time if the Kiwis don't do what they dislike most. Stand up for their own proud history and legacy.

Captain Cook's voyages led to a large number of people getting killed over his decade of explorations, including finally himself. He did not instigate massacres as his explorations were in the Enlightenment. We can celebrate his great achievements and lament his victims. But not at the same time.

Is Gisborne beginning to resemble Kosovo in the prelude before the Bosnian war? A flash point between two histories. Wars can begin over monuments when they have no better reason to start.

From a sea coast, emptied of population by the musket wars, Auckland was founded as New Zealand's capital in 1841. In 1865, the capital moved to Wellington and Auckland was taken over by capitalist pirates. With its splendid waterfront, Auckland could be its contemporary Hong Kong without its claustrophobia. But Kiwis have messed it into a hodgepodge. No one seems to stay in Auckland per se. Tourists rest up in Auckland and depart usually the next morning. At most they stay no more than a few days. A city with plenty of sales, and sails but no soul. Like Los Angeles, its perhaps single charm is your can create your own version of reality inside it.

Captain Cook had transcendence in a beautiful land in 1769. On the same day, Rangatira Te Maro had transcendence in his heroic death, resisting Cook. I am sure Te Maro would have been pleased to hear that. Captain Cook's legacy is opening the Pacific ocean and islands to world history and culture. Te Maro's legacy is a tribal neolithic people became privileged subjects in the world's greatest most enlightened Empire. Once the missionary stations were established, the Western world came in with a rush, and most Maori grabbed the opportunity. However I don't think any Maori thought they would become a minority a few decades after 1840. That is a lesson for us all in the Great Reset.

The British Empire had many sins. However the worst, slavery and the opium trade were not inflicted on New Zealand. Except when they took up arms against the Crown and had the consequences in nineteenth century war rules, Maori land was not taken by the Crown without due payment. If Maori swung it was for murder, after a trial as any other British subject.

Keith Sinclair, historian and poet. Keith was an angry young man of the post World War 11 generation. In the middle and late 1950s, he wrote the seminal history books, The History Of The Maori Wars. and A History Of New Zealand. These were not just interpretations by a left wing Auckland academic. They were intended as the definitive last word on New Zealand history. At the time, New Zealand seemed a fait accompli. The victorious World War 11 establishment ruled a land apparently of milk and honey. The Maori tribalists were reduced to authentic cultural performers. The trade unions were reduced to a semi criminal class aspiring to be lower middle class. Keith was a grumpy intellectual victor. The enemies of the establishment, tribalists and working class were without flaw. The establishment was philistine and oppressive. Keith was aspiring to be a successful author and Professor. Both of which he achieved. In 1987, I sent him a polite letter suggesting New Zealand historiography had gone too far into hagiography of tribalism. He sent back a reply that my unpublished article pointing out deficiencies in contemporary historical revisionism was sent back "unread". He wrote he had no intention of contradicting contemporary New Zealand historians. He did complete his rude letter with "good luck". Did the man have a conscience that his words as an angry young man challenging the shibboleths of his intellectual elders were becoming the howls and aggression of modern day tribalists. Society did not see fit to academically challenge Keith's narrative and would be now reaping the whirl wind. The post World War Two New Zealand revisionist historians followed the left wing line of anti colonialism now extended to anti white. The British Empire became the biggest Empire in history because its armies followed its trade. It has been said the British Empire was created in a fit of absent mindedness. That was the British establishment opinion. A Maori tribesmen would have a different opinion. An analogy could be made with Amazon swallowing up the global retail trade through customer service and exploitation of its workers.

In 1987, Keith's son, Stephen and Anthony McCarten co-authored a brilliant idea. They had for some years stormed the citadel of classical Western drama. They always got encouraging reviews and small sized audiences. Now they would write a play that pandered to the masses. Unemployed male workers form a Ladies Night Club and perform strip tease for women. The play Ladies' Night became the biggest commercial success in New Zealand theatre history. I saw it in Palmerston North with a sweet freshman female student. She spent the entire strip show with her mouth hanging open with a puzzled frown. I don't recall the dramatic prelude to the strip tease. The play became an international success and won the Moliere Award in France. The Kiwi playwrights had unwittingly found a literary truth. Don't focus on literary models. Write something that captures its era. In this case, the replacement of blue collar life by new technology, and masculine women. Ten years later, in 1997, the British movie, The Full Monty was made. The co-authors of Ladies' Night set up a website that showed the undoubted parallels between the two shows. The producers of the British movie who had engaged in lawfare with Ladies Night caved in and the lawsuit was settled out of Court. This demonstrates the novel power of the little people in the Internet age. The Full Monty producers may not have been dishonest. Sometimes an idea sinks below conscious memory.

Lloyd Geering. I have on a number of times been called Lloyd Geering. Lloyd sent me a note. "From Lloyd to Lloyd". He was born at the end of World War One in 1918. He was given the celebratory name of Lloyd after Lloyd George. He said a few years later Lloyd George was unpopular. My father was born also in 1918 with the name of celebratory France, Francis. My father lived to 94. Lloyd Geering is astonishingly still alive and awaiting God's judgment. His chief contentious struggle with God is: Is there an immortal soul. In 1967, he was brought before the New Zealand Presbyterian General Assembly to be investigated for "heresy". As customary in New Zealand, the stark reality was covered over with soft bureaucratic terms. However the New Zealand media seized upon the headline Heresy Charges. In 1967, public education was excellent and television dominated public discourse. So everyone knew about the case and its implications. While Lloyd insisted that God existed. In his theology there didn't seem to be anything left of Him as a beneficent deity nor of Jesus as anything other than a wise Galilean preacher. Did Kiwis have souls and dispensation from God? The issue was huge and in its weeks of public controversy eclipsed news about the Vietnam war. The case was brought by laymen including some academics who angrily rejected Lloyd's suggestion that they were simple. Lloyd pointed out his theological views had been mainstream in the Churches for a century. American millenarians from the nineteenth century had returned their Christianity to the magic literalism that predated the Medieval Universities. The case was soon dismissed by the General Assembly as making a mountain out of a molehill. No one except for some die- hards in the parishes believed in any of the doctrines. Lloyd endured a fate that recalls Galileo. In 1971, he was permitted to pursue his studies as a Professor but not as a theological teacher. Galileo had the instruments of torture to contend with. Lloyd had Christian fundamentalism. And what he probably loathed most of all, charismatic revivalism. Lloyd's dream that society would abandon Christian "fairy tales" and turn to a moral Christian life did not eventuate. Instead as Lloyd's critics feared. It turned to Satanism. However, all who have known Lloyd Geering have attested to his genial generous nature. He is also a lively writer on normally dry subjects.

Oracles And Miracles was first published as a novel in 1987. It follows the lives of twin girls Ginnie and Fag born into a large working class family during the 1930s and 1940s. In 1990, the novel was made into a popular stage play which toured the country as part of New Zealand's sesquicentennial celebrations. It was also popular as a radio stage play. The portraits of the two girls in flyer above shows that Miranda is a creative actress and Fiona is an accomplished actress. Girls in those times were capable, classy and innocent in a devil may care pose. I recall my mother telling me when she went out on the town Napier with other girls during World War Two, boy would shout at them. "Are you girls sixteen?" Mother and her friends would strike such devilish poses. Only years later did she find out what the boys meant.

In case anyone thinks I am being mean to Fiona. I listened to her fantastic radio play Blond bombshell in 1983. In the divisive post Springbok tour era, she captured perfectly life in a small Kiwi town, Middle aged people with their dreams over, and youth brimming with Hollywood dreams.

In Oracles And Miracles, a hybrid of social document and novel, the mother of the twins, Mum is portrayed as a hard working but bigoted ignorant woman. She genuinely seems to dislike her twins as the fag end of a large family. My University Lecturer gave her a bizarre feminist critique as a spider that eats her young. I see her as a Cassandra prophetess. All her political predictions about the Labour Party and World War Two turned out to be right. Stevan based his novel on his own genteel - working class family. I strongly suspect the real life Mum also went on about the Jews. In 2004 I was living in lodgings in Auckland. An old codger said to me. "During the war, people used to talk all the time how the Jews started the war. Then they suddenly stopped in 1945. I am hearing all this again now. But only from you."

After his triumph of Oracles and Miracles, and three more highly praised books about pioneering Kiwi hedonism, a Christchurch department store fire mass tragedy and author Ngaio Marsh as a transvestite, Steven seems to have ended writing bonanza books. However one unpublicised book published in 2017 seems to pick up on an enforced lacuna in Oracles And Miracles. Phoney Wars. New Zealand Society In The Second World War. Its blurb reads. "Were we in going to war, really on the side of the angels?... To argue that New Zealand need not have involved itself in the war at all... Contrary to the propaganda of the time-and subsequent memory-going to war did not unite New Zealanders: it divided them, often bitterly. people disagreed over whether or not we should fight, what we were fighting for and why, who was fighting, who was paying, and who was dying." News reports in New Zealand in 1939 were dominated by water front strikes. This disgusted my war veteran father when he learnt about that in 1989. This book was published by the Otago University Press. No publishing house outside New Zealand, except maybe Iran would have published it. It seems Steven was following and was in sympathy with Joel Hayward and English World War Two revisionist historian David Irving. David was denied entry into New Zealand in 2004 because he was described by an English Judge as "pro-Nazi, anti-Semitic and a Holocaust Denier". David emailed to me. "They have their finger in every pie." In 1840, Captain Hobson addressed the Maori chiefs. "The English thank God are free. And as long as they obey the law, they can come and go as they please."

My children's story written in1995 is a saga of lost opportunities or chasing a will o wisp. I had taken an event in 1945 in the childhood of a former Prime Minister. I had transmitted it into a Mark Twain kind of boys' story. In 1995, there was quite a fervent debate in the paucity of role models for boys. Boys were being left behind in an education that encouraged girls and left boys behind. The Reader in Scholastic Books gave it " a favourable review and recommended it for ages between eight and twelve". Suddenly it seemed fame and even lucre beckoned. Nowadays I read it and am quite shocked at its violence. In the nearly thirty years since, we have become so sensitised to ill treatment we scarcely recognise our old rough natures. Barry Crump who once stalked the bush slaughtering deer, remarked he now avoids killing worms in his garden. I passed through Customs with the book's illustrations, and the Customs official looked askance at them. In 1995, the battle lines between woke and traditional literature had not yet been drawn. But the Readers in the submitted publishing houses, certainly with children's literature, were all women or likely homosexual. Male rituals did not excite them If I had made J.B. Janet instead of Jim, I suspect I would have been whisked into Scholastic Publishers and published in less than a year. Publishing houses in these times don't publish on the spur, they process and prevaricate. Then they say no. That happened to this book in 2000. By then the issue of role models for boys was dead. Then they urge you to keep trying. Because of the expense of books, augmented by the literary hangers on in publishing houses, a book to be published must be assured of an immediate large readership. The authors pay the hangers on in the publishing houses by their saying no. Large readership can only be acquired in niche and academic publishing. They are launched with wine and cheese, and waiatas. They are duly expected not to too much challenge or insult wokeness. The slow burner books are smothered before they can enter the market. My manuscript was sent to Australia by Heinemann and if published would have circulated in school libraries in Australasia. Instead I have published it in Amazon Books in hard copy and digital form. Bezos has turned book publishing on its head.

The story line of J.B In Charge is the lives of poor struggling farming families living not so different from peasants. They were indebted to the banks and loan sharks. Some as with J.B.'s family, were pre electricity. But food was always nutritional, family life was strong, church and school attendance was regular. There were the cultural outlets of movies and social events. There were also discreet adulteries and squalid murders.

Denis Glover, poet and publisher. In 1937, he and his friend, Charles Brasch, founded the Caxton Press. They published the works of many well known writers of the day, including Denis' own poems. In 1947, they founded the Caxton published literary magazine Landfall. The grand literary tradition of Landfall continues to this day almost forgotten about on the lifeline of a discreet State subsidy. It is always left wing as New Zealand literature has been since the 1930s. Conservative New Zealand Governments tolerate that either because they don't know about it or they are resigned to it. Sometimes there are ineffectual grumbles. I once told some young Kiwis I had submitted a short story to Landfall. I got a rejection but a comment it showed promise but read like Barry Crump. I was surprised at their anger. "Why should that stop it being published?“ That short story can be read in Amazon paperback book. Presbyr John Spills The Beans, and on Kindle, Look Back At Regna. I had also in 1978, submitted to Landfall a now lost short story. It satirically imagined New Zealand taken over by environmentalists and its population sent away into concentration camps. My girlfriend said evasively. She recognised the influence of Kafka and Orwell. Another girlfriend said. It would never be published because it was "cheeky". One should never be cheeky in a Government office. My neighbour in Auckland was debauched poet Peter Olds. In the New Zealand way, we never talked about anything beyond immediate gossip. I read a poem by Charles Brasch. A Reply To Peter Olds. Alcoholism seems to be a handmaiden to most New Zealand poets. Denis seemed when he was not writing poetry, he was drinking. Denis' poem are favourite Kiwi treats. In laconic language that is Crump like, but deeper than the "anecdotal ape" Barry, Denis sends chills of recall of New Zealand landscapes and old identities.

The Magpies written by Denis Glover in 1947. A paean to New Zealand pioneering life and later put to music by Douglas Lilburn

When Tom and Elizabeth took the farm

The bracken made their bed

and Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies said.

Tom's hand was strong to the plough

and Elizabeth's lips were red

And Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies said

Year in year out they worked

while the pines grew overhead

and Qurdle oodle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies said

But all the beautiful crops soon went

to the mortgage man instead

and Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies said

Elizabeth is dead now (it's long ago)

Old Tom's gone light in the head

and Quardle oodle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies said

The farm's still there Mortgage corporations

couldn't give it away

And Quardle oddle ardle wardle doodle

The magpies say

The sea side is never more than a few hours drive for Kiwi families.

John Key Prime Minister 2008-16. John had not for the asking but actually the asked support of the New Zealand First and the United Parties in Parliament. Instead he relied on the flaky and sectarian support of the Maori Party. That gave him a one seat majority in Parliament. With that one seat, he annulled the previous Labour Party Act that stopped the privatisation of the New Zealand coastal public reserves. They would be passed to the Iwis on false or at least dubious claims of ancestral ownership and usage. Then global corporate deals would be made with the Iwis to exploit the Coast. Mum and Dad, Uncle John, the kids and the local Maoris would be excluded. Why would a money man and a suit suddenly get misty eyed about Maori culture and Waitangi Treaty grievances? It was not a racial issue. The New Zealand First Party is almost as much a Maori Party as the Maori Party. The only valid answer is, he was following orders from the City of London and Wall Street. His previous occupation was "the smiling assassin" in Wall Street. In the Panama Papers, he was quoted as saying. "All New Zealanders are socialists at heart." That was quite an astute remark. The class ridden England, and the reptilian moneyed America are completely alien to Kiwis. When asked about it, he said, "You bet. I am a socialist too." He is the son of an Austrian "Holocaust survivor". In a leaked tape in an Auckland café, his only political remarks were. "The new Zealand Party will die soon of old age," and "I am a one percenter". He has declared his ideal of New Zealand is a golf course and himself the golfer.

On December 5 2016, John suddenly resigned. At 9 AM on Twitter, he was boasting of "my home away from home" and showing off a Christmas tree in Premier House. Six hours later he tweeted his resignation. Something shocking happened to him in those six hours.

Professor Joel Hayward. Joel is of a milieu of South Island thin white men in glasses who find themselves in the eye of global cultural storms. I am from the North Island and have to share my space with Jake the Muss. In 1993, in South Island Universities, we both had theses accredited which blew the lid off official history. Joel has repudiated his own thesis and solemnly intones the mantras of official World War 11 history. It is a custodial crime in Europe not to do so. I stand by mine. However both Joel and I had our otherwise illustrious academic careers cut off and came close by social ostracism to mental break downs. My case was kindergarten compared with Joel's. But kindergartens can be vicious places too. In both cases, we were naïve young men who thought we could pursue historical studies with complete disregard to the contemporary political and academic power structures. We were the singular fools who took the University ideal literally in our classes. Both our theses now are stored and cross linked for research purposes in the Canterbury University Library. In my case that was done by stealth by a secret ally and refugee from political correctness. My thesis examines the Constitutional History of New Zealand and implies its foundation lies in English Common Law not in the Treaty of Waitangi. That does not yet receive a custodial sentence in New Zealand as "hate speech". At the present time, the public mood is in favour of freedom of speech. In my A J P Taylor article in my Amazon Kindle book, Caesar's Loaded Dice and in my Amazon paperback Nefertiti, I cover my thesis travails in detail.

The more than one jumper that launched a million groans. David Bain in his first trial in Dunedin in 1994. for the massacre of his family. David was convicted of the massacre with a gun of his parents, two sisters and one brother in 1994. David in 2009 was found not guilty in a second trial. He came out of prison a tanned, well educated young man. Middle class crime is now common in New Zealand and so New Zealand has rural middle class prisons. David's case was taken over by a charismatic ex All Black rugby champion Joe Karim. David's most high profile accuser was author James McNeish. That made it no contest. James wrote a very dull psychoanalytic book on the case. Joe wrote a gripping eloquent book on case. Both ironically referred to ancient history. James, Greece, Joe Egypt. James foolishly brought up Ancient Greece in a television debate with Joe. Joe shrewdly snorted at the thought that ancient history has any reference at all and immediately won over the small minded New Zealand public. I think James had a good point that David at the time of the murders was in the chorus in the rehearsals of the Sophocles play, Oedipus Rex. Any suggestion of a third party murderer is immediately dismissed as impossible. The surviving Bain relatives were convinced of David's guilt.

Joe and David won over the media and most of the New Zealand public. David's supporters ran a Michael Jackson empathy tinged with aggression campaign. Their supporters thronged the Court room in the second trial and veiled threats were were given to Jury members. Arthur Thomas came to the trial and warned what happened after his second trial. David was publicly viewed as a New Age guy persecuted by redneck bigoted cops. My mother was fanatical about his innocence. I think she had guilt that when I was David's age she had not supported me much against the New Zealand buffoons. In the preceding twenty years between me and David, Kiwis had become en masse world travelers. There are fewer buffoons, and they are mostly in the contemptible occupations of making money and politics.

One issue overlooked in the trials was the choice of words on the Bain computer after the massacre. "You are the only one who deserved to stay." That is supposed to be a reference to David. Who would use the flip word stay to mean keep alive? Robin Bain the accused old hippy father or generation X David? Robin more likely might have written, "Cool it man". Generation x might more likely write stay. New Zealand Justice at least for high profile cases has become a dog's breakfast or a casino.

A world scholar on the play, Oedipus Rex, has the name David Bain. In 1991, he published an academic paper that argued that Oedipus only metaphorically murdered his father and slept with his mother. The people of Thebes drove him to believe this. The Thebans had abandoned their ancestral Gods and their tyrant Oedipus was cast from hero to scapegoat to atone for his sins. The title of this paper is "Oedipus: Evidence And Self Conviction?" David Bain was doing Classics in 1994, the year of the murders. I imagine this academic theory by scholar David Bain might have plagued on the mind of this geeky Kiwi David Bain. Oedipus had four children, two sons and two daughters. The same as Robin Bain. On the weekend of the murders, it was reported that Laniet, the younger daughter, was going to confront Robin with her incestuous accusations. The massacre blocked this. There is also the co-incidence of the missing glasses. He was wearing his mother's glasses in the weeks before the massacre. When the police arrived at the murder scene, he asked them to get them for him. They were broken in his bedroom. One lens of them was found in his murdered brother Stephens' room. At the end of this Sophocles' play, Oedipus tears out his eyes so as not to witness the horror of his patricide and incest. Did the play drive David into an optics psychosomatic condition? The Crown Prosecution and police did pick up on the parallels between Oedipus Rex and the Bain murders. however they were always pooh poohed by the defence. David's defence lawyer described the Sophocles' play as no more than road rage. That was the argument of scholar David Bain. The tyrant Oedipus only accidentally killed an old man at the cross road and was later falsely accused of killing his father.

A year before the Bain murders, there was the Peter Ellis creche case. Sexual child abuse is more shocking than adult murder. It up ends the moral universe. I once believed the media and the liberals that the child abuse panic that started in America in the 1970s was all mass hysteria. In 1993, Peter was convicted of often bizarre multiple sexual abuse of creche children under his care. He served seven years in prison. About half the people in New Zealand believed Peter was completely innocent. The other half about equally believe he is guilty or don't know. Peter always maintained his innocence. He died before the Supreme Court quashed his case in 2022. The Court laid down a non-English ruling. In Maori custom (tikanga,) the dead must not be defamed. The children and their parents publicly insist on Peter's guilt. Peter's family of his innocence. Lynley Hood buried in her book, City Possessed that the creche children said Peter took them to an old building for child sex orgies with unknown men. City Possessed says a disused Masonic Lodge most resembles that building. That building was the only one not investigated by the police in their thorough search for evidence. Curiously, the Supreme Court in its verdict declared the judgment was in no way a criticism of the parents, the children, nor the police and trial investigators. Shouldn't heads metaphorically roll for this "miscarriage of justice"?

This brings us to Clayton Weatherston. In 2008, Clayton stabbed to death Sophie Elliott. He was her University tutor. Wikipedia describes their six month relationship as "romantic". That meant her sharing a shower with him and then tormenting his libido. She told him she was leaving him permanently. He went to her home with a farewell present and a knife. He stabbed her 216 times and battered her in her locked bedroom. He said to the police officer. "I killed her". In his trial for murder he was televised smirking at the evidence. His defence was "provocation". He appeared to be in a nineteenth century time warp. He was found guilty with a non parole period of 18 years. Under common law, Clayton had the right to plead any defence he chose. It is the Jury's prerogative to judge its validity. But in New Zealand society, if you see something you don't like, you pass a law banning it. A law was passed a year later that abolished the defence of provocation in cases of murder.

The riddle of the ketches. Ben Smart and Olivia Hope mysteriously disappeared on a mystery ketch in Marlborough Sounds in the South Island on New Year's Day 1998. A ketch owner Scott Watson was convicted of double murder and still languishes in prison. As he continues to deny the murders, he is denied parole. He was convicted on a single hair of Olivia on her comb. The hair was "found" in a second search of the ketch a week later. Is this case a further lead in from the Crewe murders case of New Zealand Deep State? New Zealand police have become openly homosexual (perverse) and multicultural (mercenary). The same foot dragging and bizarre leads mark this case as with the Crewe murders. New Zealand police have become utterly stupid or they obey an hierarchy that has rogue elements. In the Ben Smart and Olivia Hope case, it seems to be a mingling of international drug running and a Ted Heath yacht case. As strikingly different from the Crewe murder case as marmite is from cocaine. A lesson from this case is: don't entrust your teenage daughter into the hands of men in the twilight hours on a boat. However Olivia's Dad most likely had no control over her. In the twilight hours of New Year's day, a strange scruffy man was observed at the Marlborough Sounds port. The skipper who transported Ben and Olivia and the stranger to the stranger's ketch to sleep in always insisted he took them to a double mast ketch much larger and grander than Scott's single mast ketch. He denied the stranger he transported was Scott Watson. In 2021, he committed suicide after unending harassment by police and public. Scott's photo that identified him as the strange man who transported Ben and Olivia to the ketch had Scott with blinked squinty eyes. Scott had not been identified as the stranger in earlier photographs. The eye witnesses who identified the stranger as Scott from the eye blinked photograph recanted. The squinty eyes of the stranger suggest an Hispanic on a South Pacific drug run. People who later reported observing a double mast ketch sailing around New Zealand had their reports not followed up by the police.

In 1982, twelve year old Johnny Gosch was kidnapped by a paedophile ring in America. The television programme America's Most Wanted revealed there was a child kidnapping paedophile ring involving top people in the Government in Washington DC. The irony that they were America' most wanted was not picked up in this programme.

1982 was the same year that public panic of paedophilia took over in New Zealand. Did the child welfare professionals in New Zealand know about Johnny Gosh and the New Zealand media suppress it?

1982 was also the year of the creation of the Kiwi icon graphic book. Terry And The GUn Runners. It late became a cult television children's serial. A twelve year old Kiwi boy is a victim of a kidnapping by a criminal adult gang. One of the graphic book's creators was a prominent New Zealand journalist.

Jules Mikus convicted in 2002 for rape and murder of a six year old girl Teresa Cormack in Napier in 1987. In the New Zealand gallery of doubtful murder conviction's, he is the sole one that even the blogs keep away from. Jules died in prison denying the murder. Jules was known for his lust for pubescent girls, fathering a few children on the way, but there was no previous whisper he had a lust for small children. The media to protect pederasts in the highest places in society seems to have deliberately merged the two perversions against the consensus of medical science. Jules looked after his partner Shirley Te Kooti's small children and the smallest called him Dada. Jules struggle to master English in an abusive Hungarian refugee household delayed his schooling and left him a stutter. His appearance and life style seems a left over from the 1960s hippies. But Jules was always a diligent housekeeper. Only Shirley and his mother believed in Mikus' innocence. At the time of the murder, Jules had a water tight alibi by his visit to a Government Department. His DNA samples were cleared at the time of the murder. He was convicted fifteen years after the murder from a new forensic report by New Zealand Government scientists. Maybe irrelevant but worth considering, Jules and Shirley were daily investigating Maori land issues in National Archives. Mid nineteenth century racial conflicts are a running sore in New Zealand. Shirley said she was a descendant of Te Kooti, greatest of the Maori rebels and Jules was a descendant of murdered German missionary Volkner by HauHau.

For at least a year before the murder, the New Zealand public had been exposed at night several times every week to a television Palmolive soap advertisement which showed two little frolicking girls in a bath and concluded with a full Monty naked little girl running frantically down a hall and then giving a playful skip. The advertisement won a merit award. The advertisement disappeared at the time of the murder and reappeared only once more on the same day the murder investigation was scaled down. as reported in a magazine letter by " a mother of small children". She wrote she had at first boycotted the soap but then had concluded the advertisement was harmless. The night before the murder, there was a harrowing prime time television drama of a real life unsolved kidnapping, murder and dumping on a sea shore of an American child. Exactly the events of Teresa's death. In that distant time, television exercised a mesmeric effect before the internet and social media.

In the 1990s, there was a television campaign for many months on how to put infants down on a bed safely. A recommended method was to put the infant on its stomach. One's commonsense would say the infant on its stomach might become trapped and suffocate. The infant resembled a trapped seal. But "science" overrides common sense. During this advertised campaign, there was a surge of cot deaths which ended when the television campaign ended. Only Pacific Island babies were immune from this surge. Their mothers either didn't take notice of television campaigns or still had pre modern native sense.

A Maori woman in 2018 claimed paedophilia at "the highest heights you can imagine" of New Zealand society. She said on Facebook. "These people are suits and people in power." That confirms whistler blower claims of paedophile rings and related worse atrocities against children at the highest levels of society in America, Europe and Australia. The coroner's report on Teresa has not been made public because it was too gory. Was the real reason because the circumstances of her murder were Masonic? A person identified Teresa holding the hand of a man "with Charles Manson's eyes" at the time of her disappearance. The glassy hypnotic eyes of Satanic worshippers.

The Maori woman was accusing her late husband who was an Iwi advocate in the Waitangi Tribunal. She said he had told her, his paedophilia activities were his right under tino rangatira his ancestors had signed in the Treaty of Waitangi. His interpretation of the Treaty is more or less right. The woman's claims were dismissed by the police and the media ignore her.

The consequence of the Teresa murder has been the loss of freedom of Kiwi children. Parents dared no longer permit their children to walk to school and roam freely. Nearly two generations have passed since the murder. The "snow flake" millennials are a legacy of the brutal killer.

Two New Zealand Maori authors. Witi Ihimaera 1944- and Allan Duff 1950

Witi was born in Waituhi near Gisborne. Wikipedia wrongly describes Waituhi as "a small town". It is a rural district, characteristically New Zealand with straggling houses and a local cultural centre. In Waituhi's case, that is Rongapai, Te Kooti's painted Marae. Witi has achieved national fame from the middle 1970s with novels, short stories, plays and librettos about contemporary Maori life. His first novel Tangi was about a Maori young man gathering with his whanau (family) for his father's funeral. Witi's father had to endure the next several decades of people extolling Witi, ignoring his other large progeny, and saying, "I thought you were dead". Witi, an international traveler, kept his stories confined to New Zealand but with universal settings and themes. Under his imaginative retelling, Waituhi enters literature and global perception as "a small town" that resembles South Italy. The neighbours are close relatives who often quarrel but are full of love and support for each other.

Carl Stead has been the wet blanket of Maori literature. He condemned Witi's novel, The Matriarch, and Keri Hulme's Booker prize novel, The Bone People for their exultation in violence and sadism. He might have compared The Matriarch to The Turner Diaries. Witi in Matriarch compared the Maori tribal leaders to the Mafia. He meant that as mana. Mana translates in English: for himself and he man.

Allan Duff, Witi's contemporary, is from the famous literary and scientific Duff family. Allan's father, a Rotorua scientist, married a Maori girl who became an alcoholic. Allan's reading of Witi's and other sentimental books about contemporary Maori life got up his goat. In 1990, he published his first novel, Once Were Warriors. In Allan's imaginative retelling, the once proud Maori warrior nature has become warped and morbid in its mostly urban environment. Jake Heke the protagonist in Once Were Warriors, is unemployable, an alcoholic, pub fighter, incestuous father and wife beater. Once Were Warriors was made into a movie by Maori. Jake was transformed into a violent, drunken but redemptive character who beats up his best friend for sexually abusing his daughter. Allan made himself a moral didactic on Maori failings. Has he brought about an improvement on Maori dismal statistics? Pre the Covid regime, the answer is most likely yes. In the movie version, Jake Heke is a giant and his exploits as pub fighter and wife beater are cheered in theatre showings in Maori districts and in schools.

Before Allan Duff's Once Were Warriors there was Keri Hulme. Her 1984 novel, The Bone People struggled for twelve years to find a publisher before a feminist publishing collective adopted it. That is something I have in common with Keri. Neither of our writings fit orthodox book publishing with its old fashioned liberalism. Once Were Warriors struggled to find a publisher also before some entrepreneurs more or less set up a book company to publish it. The era of publishing a few hundred book copies by a bibliophile has gone since the 1970s. With inflation, books have been turning into precious items mostly published for educational and cultural institutions and subsidised by State institutions. Renegade literary voices are choked before they can sound in the market places.

The Bone People has been intensely controversial. It won the British Brooker literary prize. It raises the same issues of Maori alienation in modern life as does Once Were Warriors. But its artistic literary flavour and authorship did not give it it the political impact of the other book.

I found The Bone People exceedingly powerful although I skimmed through the tedious parts of beachcombing. The protagonist character Keriwin describes herself as asexual. She is clearly modelled on Keri. The only two other people I have heard described as asexual were James Barrie and Edward Heath. All three asexuals had a peculiarly sadistic and sexual infatuation with children. The mute child Simon in The Bone People is reminiscent of the imp Peter Pan and the Princely boy David in Barrie's writing. The less said about Ted Heath the better.

Having gone into wealth and celebrity status after publication of The Bone People, Hulme never wrote anything memorable afterwards.

Prior to The Bone People, she wrote the short story Hooks And Feelers. It is about the relationship between a mother and a child after the mother accidently slammed and cut off her child's hand in a car door. It is a prelude to Simon beaten into a coma by his foster father Joseph with the permission of Keriwin to give him "a Maori hiding" with fists and a belt. She regrets the consequences as happened lite to my mother. New Zealand is a country obsessed with child punishment.

Helen Clark Prime Minister 1999-2008. John Tamahere renegade

David Lange once allegedly said. "Helen is so dry she is combustible." Of her academic intelligence, commitment to results, and hard work, none appeared to doubt. It was said on radio talk back, Helen had as much chance becoming Prime Minister as Elvis of being alive. Elvis is still alive, and Helen became a popular Prime Minister until the public tired of her Aunty Helen image. She as Prime Minister gave breathing space to the economy after the choking of the former National Government. Ironically, State beneficiaries were never better off than under the choking which kept inflation low.. The former Prime Minister, Jenny Shipley after years of taunting beneficiaries preserved her sinking Government by an alliance with a former allegedly semi illiterate beneficiary. Jenny put on a new pair of glasses, and shared many tete a tetes with her. She said, Alamein Kupu gave her fresh new insights on life. Alamein had jumped from a small Parliamentary Socialist Party that had condescended to her. That was not the first time, the top class and the bottom class combined to squeeze the middle class.

Helen bravely refused to include New Zealand in George Bush's invasion of Iraq. She had previously said. She had "no intention of going down in a hail of bullets". A daughter of a Waikato farming family, she reacted with militia fury at a Maori guerrilla training camp, As always before in New Zealand history, having crushed a Maori insurrection, she was accused of over reaction.

Labour Parliamentary member, John Tamahere spilled the beans in 2005 on Helen Clark and her feminist dominated Government. Helen said John's spilling to a journalist Ian Wishart might have been the consequence of a "liquid lunch". John later said he stood by what he said. But "I slit my political throat with my own tongue." To read about the spill and its insights, readers should read my essay Petticoat Government in my Amazon digital and paperback books, Nefertiti. Not reported in Petticoat Government because only now it makes sense, at least to me, is this part of the interview.

Ian: "This goes back to the great conspiracy theory. Most people like you and I sic can't get our heads around the idea that someone can sit in a darkened room and figure out where they want to be in fifteen years. Where do they get the time to do that?" John: "They don't have families. They've got nothing but the ability to plot. I've gotta sic take my kid to soccer on Saturday. They don't. So they just go and have a parley vous francais somewhere and a latte, whereas we don't get to plot."

I recall a female academic going into a panic at Otago University and denying that a New Zealand seminal history book had a reference about Te Whiti. Helen Wilson wrote in her memoir, My First Eighty Years."The natives sold everything saleable and went to Parihaka to join him (Te Whiti). When excitement simmered down, the natives returned to grinding poverty."

When I first encountered female New Zealand history academics, they seemed to me fresh air from the stale socialist bias of male historians. In female academic writing, not every conservative was a flint stone, and not every working man was an angel. But I soon discovered, like their prototype, The Red Queen, they could believe six impossible things before breakfast. They appeared to consciously side with Maori nationalists as their shock troopers. They have had a big surprise that they are evil whites and colonial oppressors too.

John claimed the Labour Party deliberately lost the 1993 election. After the election, the Labour Party leader the ever popular Mike Moore was deposed in favour of the apparently starch humourless Helen Clark. Just before he died, an embittered Mike said. His deposing "Was not that simple". Then he laughed and said, "It was". The feminists had plotted for many years to depose a man and a former socialist left winger with their own. Helen soon redeemed herself with the public with her spritely humour, and common touch. She had her copious public relations staff to assist her.

Helen Clark was succeeded as Prime Minister by John Key. See text and image about him above.

Do you Mr Jones. Sir Robert Jones, multi millionaire from real estate and genius literary satirist. Bob was born in 1939 and grew up in a State house. As new Zealand moved into political correctness and wokeism, his acerbic but revealing comments have stirred consternation. He has had a Maori wife and Maori children. They have not been in the public eye despite their notorious Jonesy relative. He writes about Maori, mockingly but with a hint of familial pain. No one ever signs off for a dirty weekend with the alibi Mr Jones. He has declared on a number of occasions that all women are mad. He has declared on Maori television that their historical grievances are "all bullshit" That occasioned great public satisfaction but he failed to explain why. Bob has played the joker in the fall of two New Zealand Governments. He helped to bring down the 1975 socialist Labour Government by employing a man in a mouse costume to disrupt a television interview with the Prime Minister, Bill Rowling. Rob Muldoon had warned the National Party to be on their best performance when up against Bill. Keith Holyoake had replied. "Focus on Bill Rowling's "squeaky voice". This was amusing but infantile America politics infiltrating New Zealand. A Muldoon superannuation promise to everyone over sixty years old sealed Labour's 1975 downfall. Shenanigans in Parliament since 1984 have lengthened Muldoon's superannuation age to sixty five and denied or delayed it to expatriate Kiwis. I have estimated that has cost me personally a quarter of a million dollars. I would respect the politicians disdain for the sexagenarians if they applied the same age restrictions to themselves. Instead they quietly keep their gold plated Parliamentary superannuation and after leaving politics, go immediately to business sponsorship and the Waitangi Tribunal. That makes them millionaire ragbags. He helped to bring down Robert Muldoon's National Government in 1984 by establishing a Party, The New Zealand Party to poach National voters.. He said at the time people thought he was the Messiah and he was surprised how easy it was. He later disbanded the Party after the Lange Government adopted all its policies except disbanding the military. They are the working guys with the guns. On Bob's views on the Iwis as scams, and his business practices with a telephone, instead of a palatial office, Bob was decades ahead of his times. He has a younger brother, author Lloyd Jones. He has declared he cannot understand why his witty brother writes such "naval gazing" books that he has never been able to complete reading. He should know the answer. State support. He said he left the public service after he discovered the single privilege for a senior officer was his coffee was brought to his office. In 2004, Bob wrote his masterpiece. Degrees for Everyone. In a trendy University, a new Chancellor awards degrees for every subject that would being in State support and student loans. Traditional subjects are squeezed out to be replaced with drop in subjects such as Holocaust Studies and finally Obesity Studies as an identity and culture not a medical problem. Holocaust Studies have not reached New Zealand yet. The shadow of Joel Hayward still lingers. However Obesity Studies are now a subject in at least one New Zealand University.. Writing about New Zealand Universities that brings me to Tim Shadbolt.

New Zealand's favourite radical. Tim Shadbolt. He was born in 1947, the nephew of a famous New Zealand author Maurice Shadbolt. None of whose books I have been able to complete although I like bits of them. Tim epitomised the flower child Vietnam war generation. He despised the old and championed the young with his captivating grin. He ended his political career as Mayor of two cities. In the first city, Waitemata in the Auckland region, he became notorious for losing his Mayoral chains. Chastened, he hitchhiked to Invercargill in Otago, in at least an urban legend, and won its Mayoral election. He became Mayor of Invercargill for twenty six years. That turned him from a free floating Auckland radical into a Southland old identity. He has become what he most despised. A dottery Joe Biden type. In 1967, at the age of twenty, he published his rumbustious autobiography, Bullshit & Jellybeans. When I read it in 1976, I considered at last I was reading something that reflected my own experiences as an Arts student at Auckland University. Without outstanding exam marks and the benefit of ethnic and female prestige, we were academic fodder. History Professor Keith Sinclair and Tim mutually detested each other. Both might have dreamed and shuddered they were the other. Both being left wing authors, gifted speakers, and aspirants for political office. Keith publicly lambasted Tim and his fellow University protestors and drop outs were "a failure". Apartheid was the most fashionable protest issue of that era. From the Arts University Departments, many teachers joined the cause. I often considered apartheid down to separate toilets between the staff and the students flourishes at the Universities. That is not surprising as the Universities and the Calvin Church both sprung from the Middle Ages. Tim claimed he was fraudulently failed in his student exams, as his name was required to be written on all his exam pages. I don't doubt that. Tim and I got very close to crossing paths. In 1976, he was described to me as "that bus driver with the funny voice". His somewhat shaky voice gave him a distinct brand. After the end of New Zealand's contribution to the end of the Vietnam war and the new Kirk Labour Government in 1972, radicalism in New Zealand drifted into futility and lackadaisical communes. Tim resurfaced in the media a decade later as the shock winner of the Waitemata Mayoralty. Tim has been often crude, even repellent. He induced public disillusionment by appearing in a television cheese advertisement during his Invercargill Mayoralty. "I don't care, so long as I'm Mayor." That seemed the death knell of New Zealand class radicalism. Tim hinted his first loss of political innocence happened when he was privately warned by fellow Mayors after his Waitemata Mayoral victory. "Never admit official liability or you will be in and out of Court rooms." All New Zealand officials know the flood gates of public litigation will open at a confession of public liability. The exception is when they go weak at the knees at their encounters with Maori tribalists. The tribalists are related plaintiffs, judges, juries and executioners over Maori issues, and the Government meekly pays up to their lies and extortions. That is a peculiar weakness that can only be explained as bad public conscience, and the Kiwis' reverence to public ceremonies. "New Zealand never recovered after Mum ran away with a Frenchman", as Tim put it as an analogy to Mother England. Maori Royalty and Aristocracy replaced the cringing unthinking obeisance to the English Royalty and Aristocracy. In Bullshit and Jelly Beans, Tim wrote how the Universities turn their students not into critical thinkers but into mental robots. On education, Tim turned out to be a prophet.

Christchurch 22 February 2011 earthquake that took 185 lives. Earthquakes are to New Zealand what aerial bombardments are to Europe. Suddenly, the old order is overthrown and one can but wait in fear for its mortal, catastrophic, disastrous or hopefully trivial outcome. All Kiwis are denialists that we live on volcanoes. I grew up with stories about the 1931 Napier, Hawkes Bay earthquake. The folk of Napier turned their levelled city into "the art deco capital of the world". The Napier reconstruction predated the glass canyons of "brutalism".

I have lived through without mishap three big ones in New Zealand. In the Gisborne 2007 earthquake, I crouched in terror between my elderly parents and thought the family house would imminently split asunder and we would die. Mother was moaning. Father, a World War Two trooper, was calmly repeating, "Everything is going to be all right." That earthquake cost one life. The only fatality in New Zealand in three years. On 4 September 2010, two lives were lost in Christchurch. On 22 February 2011, an earthquake levelled Christchurch as shown in the image of its Cathedral above. 185 lives, including many non Kiwi visitors and students perished. The 2011 Christchurch earthquake was globally reported. Christchurch was now an international city. Readers can, for a perspective from China on the Christchurch earthquakes, read my free email collection in Educating Mao on my internet site, sargonpress.com

Man made New Zealand disasters

Cave Creek 1995. Fourteen students and a conservation officer perished when the Cave Creek platform in a national park collapsed. Four people were seriously injured. It used to be that an official thing of any kind was assumed of rigorous safety. One could stand and even jump on an official platform and it would not collapse. Official criminal negligence was a non sequitur. But since 1991, and the election of a National Government, neoliberalism since 1984 confined to economics had strayed into public safety. The National Government gleefully fired their safety experts and replaced them with the Kiwi hammer and nails do it yourself ethos. The Prime Minister Jim Bolger said, twenty dollars worth of bolts would have stopped the crash. This was the revenge of the Tories on the State bureaucracy. Wikipedia makes no mention that when the news first came out, the Cabinet discussed their liability to manslaughter charges. Then the media told us that the Crown cannot criminally prosecute itself. That was a big surprise to the Kiwis who thought no one was above the law. Then that was found not to be true. Then the files for Court action were reported to be lost. The victims' families received $2.6 million compensation. Then the tragedy went down the public memory hole except as a dreadful accident.

White Island. An active volcano in a nearly continuous stage of releasing volcanic gas. Captain Cook sighted it in 1769 before he sighted and landed on the East Coast North Island. He named it White Island because of its spectre of continuous floating white gases. The Maori name is Te Puia Whakaari, literally the active volcano. Both eighteenth century European science and Maori science knew of its potential danger. No Maori settlements nor artifacts have been found there. Likewise, despite a doubtless desperate desire of the Endeavour crew for a landing, the Endevour sailed on. It took capitalism in the nineteenth century to turn the island into a sulphur mining industry, and in the twentieth century into a tourist attraction. White Island erupted continually from 1975 until 2000. In that period, I visited, and alighted from a tourist boat, we without a care in the world for imminent danger, strolled about. One man on a recommendation of the captain went bare footed and was reduced to crippling agony. White Island erupted again 2012, 2016 and 2019. Its benign time was up 0n 9 December 2019. It violently erupted during a tourist excursion. 22 lives were lost, and 25 were injured, many critically and with severe burns. There has been much public anger in new Zealand and abroad about the laxity of the monitoring of White Island. The Island was showing signs of a violent eruption days before it happened. The tourists were not warned but strolled about the island with the assumption the State and travel agents were looking after them. Instead they were racking in their money. Criminal charges have been laid and many say the State should be in the dock also. Many must also grump so should the Iwi Ngati Awa. Their culpability seems to have gone down the public memory hole. On the New Zealand mainland, buildings are regularly deemed earthquake risks and torn down. In Gisborne, an astronomy observatory was deemed so and torn down. The disinterested observer might wonder which priority. Public safety or the mega dollar. I have no doubt.

Republicanism

In 2000, the Mayor of Auckland Christine Fletcher and fellow Auckland City Councillors in a liquid fuelled night removed the Queen and Prince Consort of England and New Zealand from their lofty place in the Council debating chamber and installed them in the Council toilet. The security guards stood by helplessly as they did when Elon Musk walked in with a tub into Twitter headquarters. Twenty years later, Christine said to a reporter that she had disliked the portrait of the Queen as a young woman. The Queen's bloom must have rankled her. There were no consequences for the new ruling class in New Zealand who had experienced the mindless tedium for children of Royal visits. This event marked the new age when British Royalty and manners were being replaced with "indigenous" and multicultural obeisance.

Mark Lundy and his murdered wife and child. The child's eyes appear to be drugged. Is that a clue to the murders?

In the same year 2000, a very fat and loving New Zealand family, the Lundys were murdered and destroyed in Palmerston North. The father Mark was an amateur opera enthusiast and vintner aspirant. The mother Christine was a community leader. The seven year old daughter Amber was a joy to everyone's heart.

A Palmerston North contractor and truck driver, Nigel Winiata saw at around 2.50 a.m. near the Lundy home at the night of the murders, a strangely dressed "thick set balding man". He turned on his stationary lights full beam to view him. It has not been explained why he put on his lights. The Crown did not subpoena Nigel because his sighting did not fit with the Crown's estimated time of the murders at about seven p.m. Mark was convicted of their murders in 2001. After over a decade of public questions about the evidence, the Privy Council in London in 2014 quashed the convictions. At the second Lundy murder trial, the time of the murders was changed to around 2 a.m. Yet curiously, no one was investigated in the new murder time frame.

At Mark's first trial, the Crown claimed the murders took place at about 7 p.m. It claimed that Mark drove from Petone near Wellington to Palmerston North, a distance of 134 kilometres, killed his wife and daughter, disposed of his clothes and the murder weapon, altered the timing on the family computer which indicated the Crown timing of their deaths, ran down the street wearing a blond wig and drove 134 kilometres back to Petone in between 5.30 and 8.28.

A man in the same area of town of the murders, described as "a dangerous pyschotic" was cleared in the original police investigation by an alibi. He and all the many other suspects in the first trial were ignored by the Crown and Defence in the second trial. Mark's deceased wife Christine had had an altercation with him and she had received death threats.

The Palmerston North Police station after the murders received in the mail a photograph of the image of the Lundys shown above which is printed top left with the code of a cylinder head gasket for a car. The code is H N 6315. Mark went into a delirious state thought to be a put on. He encountered a tragedy so deep that I can think of no parallels except in Greek tragedies and opera arias. At the funeral, Mark was televised appearing to start to sing the aria of the hunch back after seeing his murdered daughter in his sack in Rigoletto.

Mark's home invasion of his own home and family is not physically possible. The man who committed the murders was a macho type killer of a kind only characteristic in tribal dark lands. Note the forensic report of the murder weapon. It was the tribalist' favourite weapon, the tomahawk. The Juries were put through a manchurian candidate process and many must now be questioning. Mark was in a fantasy world in the time of the killings, and might have paid someone to kill his wife to collect her insurance money to save him from bankruptcy. His child no no no. But no one else was investigated in the second trial and no sign of bounty money withdrawn by Mark.

Mark was convicted in his second trial primarily on a pin head mark on his shirt discovered by forensics fifty days after the murders. The Defence argued it was the stain of a fast food meat pie. The pin mark was argued by the Crown to be brain matter of species unknown.

On October 2018, the Court of Appeals ruled the stain testing in the second trial should have been inadmissible because of its lack of science. Yet oddly or maybe characteristically the Court of Appeals ruled on the weight of evidence Mark's murder convictions still stand. Shades again of the Arthur Thomas case when the Court of Appeals after his second trial ruled the cartridge case evidence was inadmissible but the murder convictions still stood because the Defence had not proven the cartridge case did not exist. The media unlike the Thomas case has been strangely muted after the second Lundy trial.

Mark has twice been denied parole after twenty years imprisonment. He was required to write a "safety plan" to address issues that might lead to further offending. Mark said he was unable to write a plan because "It is rather difficult to do a safety plan for something I haven't done". Unless new evidence emerges or his convictions are judged unsafe, Mark will die in prison. Mark's response to his convictions has been. "I was convicted not on justice but on points of law."

The Crown alleged Mark after the murders returned to his hotel room in another city. No stains were reported by the hotel staff the next morning. Excrement can not be entirely eliminated in a hotel room, let alone blood.

That brings me to the astonishingly parallel and yet contrasting case of Arthur Thomas twice convicted for double murder of the Crewes in 1970. Arthur Thomas is a weedy child man. He really belongs to the rural New Zealand generation born before him. He missed high schooling because his father took him out of school to unpaid labour on his farm. His family and his supporters in effect middle New Zealand appeared devoted to him. Even Ahtur's recorded spoken language seems to be semi rural dialect. In some ways he is a twelve year old that reflects his schooling. In other ways he has the divine wisdom of the adult unschooled. His best memorable phrases recall the rustics of Wordsworth. His alleged guilt is stranger than fiction. Again like with Mark Lundy, the killer was a macho man from the dark lands who knew exactly how to double murder with gun and rifle butt. Arthur's true story is as earthy and will of the wisp as a hay seed as his fellow prisoners called him.

After an exhaustive and fudgy police investigation in 2014, Arthur Thomas still stands condemned for the Crewe murders. They are certainly not looking for anyone else. Yet like in a Gilbert and Sullivan musical, they admit police planted evidence. Arthur has gone publicly silent.

There is now a list of home invasions in the North Island of physical psychotic ferocity. Some have the common theme of a law abiding white man is accused and convicted on shoddy even corrupt evidence. They are Arthur Thomas, Murray Kestle, Alan Hall and Mark Lundy. Only in Murray's case, was no blunt object employed in the murders.

In the Alan Hall case, the children of the murdered victim witnessed ithe attack and described him as a Maori and "a big black bastard".Alan is a short white man.

In the 1990s, when I took part in a march in Auckland against the parole of a Maori man convicted of rape and murder (buried alive) of a young girl, a Maori fellow to jeers justified or at least explained the crime as the results of colonialism.

On 29 April 2007, New Zealand made world wide news and praise by sparing its children from terror and violent even deadly attack. This lone little dog rushed out onto the road and saved five small children from attack by two pit bull dogs.

On 16 May 2007, New Zealand's Parliament cowardly criminalised the right of parents to give a smack to their children to save them from fire and water and all the other dangers in their waking hours. A natural right that has belonged to parents of all animals above the ferals.

Kiwi farmer Allan Titford with his family before he became New Zealand's first political prisoner since World War Two. Allan has since 2013 disappeared into New Zealand's prisons without normal legal process of public trial. His "crime" was for exposing the Iwi scam in New Zealand. He has had his enemies' evil deeds projected onto himself. He has been strategically demonised by the media and political commentators in lockstep. He was a harbinger and perhaps rehearsal for the Covid regime.

Throughout the rural North Island, Iwi shock troopers have been occupying Crown reserve and private land to gain Government compensation. Alan uniquely fought back. He received treatment reminiscent of Palestinian farmers on the West Bank.. His legal property for many years had been terrorised and occupied by the local Nathan family with blood ties to Portugal and Maori. They claim ownership on ancestral grounds and fraudulent documents in Iwi controlled northern North Island. Is New Zealand starting to resemble Israel without its Silicon valley start up companies? To be fair not its butcher wars. Allan's wife in image above is descended from the Nga Puhi chiefs who signed the Treaty of Waitangi. She despised the Maori occupiers of her farm as rabble. Eventually, she turned against Allan over marital issues and became the star Crown false and distorted accuser.

Leviathan Auckland

The best time in my memory for Auckland was in the 1990s when old Marxists ran it. I recall Bruce Jesson and Sandra Lee who happens to be Maori. When one enters a country or district run by the old Marxists, one instantly recognises the good management. The old Marxists do not govern via predatory capitalism nor a popularity contest. Burce and Sandra skilfully managed the neoliberal induced water shortage. They even made the buses run on time. They decided not to sell the bus service because not only did the buses run on time but it made a profit. Planet Wellington then under the control of the neoliberals promptly made a law forcing Auckland to sell its bus service. Since then the Auckland buses have run late and lurch dangerously. I was told they were bought in China. In China, the local Governments run first rate bus services. My last long walk in Auckland was an unending meander around cones. I leave cone city to the bi-culturalists and settle in villa city.

There is a brave attempt in provincial Gisborne to work within the "bi-cultural" structure. imposed since 2021. Instead of democratic electoral rolls, Maori wards elected from the Maori electoral rolls have been imposed from planet Wellington to represent Maori. So Maori and everyone else misses out on local Government to represent universal local issues. The number of Maori wards are based on the demography of the local Maori population. I wrote to the Gisborne Herald does that mean a Maori cannot vote on the general local electoral roll. That comment was suppressed because if they want to they can. Maybe at the community level, bi-culturalism might work. But Auckland "super city" which was created by the neoliberal ACT Party is Leviathan. The Maori wards parallel the "rotten wards" of early nineteenth century England that the settlers came to New Zealand to escape from. They were defended as representing the local commercial corporate interests including the slave. trade. As representing the iwi scam, that is what the Maori wards are.

Villa City

Cone City

The tryst that shocked and bemused Auckland.

Auckland Mayor Len Brown and Hong Kong siren Bevan Chuang

In 2013, Len Brown confessed to a sexual romp with Bevan Chuang. Len had won the Mayoralty with a campaign on transportation issues as a "people's Mayor". Instead his legacy became his affair with Bevan. His public face precluded him from hotel encounters. So as Mayor, he took advantage of his Mayoral keys and would sneak with Bevan at night into his Mayoral office and the office of Ngati Whatua. Ngati Whatua was the Auckland tribe in co-governance with the Auckland City Council. Since Ngati Whatua had blessed their Council, they had stayed away. They had got their cut. I hope but am doubtful, that as Len and Bevan romped in the Ngati Whatua office, they looked up and esteemed the Maori art carvings. Len had arranged for Bevan to get an Auckland Art Gallery job. The affair ought to have taught the public three things: all CEOs run literally or at least subtly, harems. Maori co-governance is a scam. How untalented people get the cushy prestigious jobs that are never advertised.

Having lived as a University teacher in China for ten years, I instantly understood Len's predicament. One is constantly in the environment of beautiful Chinese girls who resemble how Irish Catholic girls used to be. Having lived under the thumbs of their families and inside an anti sex ideology all their lives, they want to and can break though. Old fool professional white men, they lead easily into lucrative mischief.

Looking suitably demure. Show biz celebrity, Lizzie Marvelly. I had a run in with her in 2016. I became infuriated when she in a New Zealand Herald column berated the sentence of an American College student boy who "only" got a prison sentence of several months instead of years after he and a College girl were discovered by Swedes on bicycles in a debauched in flagrante delicto state in their College grounds. The girl was designated by the Court and legacy media as a rape victim. In her Facebook, Lizzie had written, she liked to roam the city in the early hours looking for date scones. I replied. "You are setting yourself up to be raped." I said no more than what a caring father or brother might say. The vitriol I received from Lizzie and her cohorts quite surprised me. That included rapist accusations on my Facebook page. I concluded Lizzie's generation type is bereft of reason. Since the 1960s cultural revolution, each new generation has been more stupid than the one before it. By Lizzie's era, language no longer has objective meaning. It has been replaced with witchy words. I have read a chick bait is an average two minutes long. The same time span as the hate session in the novel 1984. Lizzie, as with the case with all pampered young generations, wants it all.

The terror regime that Western men in the twenty first century live under of rape and sexual abuse charges is an echo of racial grievances. In both cases, what began as maybe genuine grievances has been taken over by lawyers. Their legal briefs sound always the same as the plaintiffs are instructed by their lawyers to top themselves. In 2000 in New Zealand, a well respected Christchurch doctor got years of of imprisonment for lewd behaviour of his female patients. His behaviour was shocking but his victims survived it. In about the same year, a criminally reckless truck driver got months of imprisonment for killing several women. A boy and girl who engaged in 2019 in Auckland in a dark web choking game led to the girl's death. He gets a murder rap. She is turned by society into a shrinking wall flower innocent.

The adult sex issue in Western countries is a time warp from the risk taking 1960s. It has been weaponised by man hating feminists. They see every woman as a Teresa never as a Becky. Young women especially should be warned to take precautions as with everything else in our dangerous and safety conscious world.

Film maker Taika Cohen in America. Waititi in New Zealand. He once declared New Zealand is God's Own and as racist as hell." I was once in a Maori student class when reference was made to Aotearoa as God's own. Rather to my surprise that was greeted with knowing giggles. I should not have been surprised. If Taika walked about in a hoodie, New Zealand was as racist as hell. As a hardworking and talented filmmaker, every endeavour has been greeted universally in New Zealand with warm, even cloying encouragement. The rest of us unentitled Kiwis are endlessly subjected to public ridicule and discouragement if we raise our heads above the ramparts. Like Minnie Dean in Richard Seddon's God's Own Country we are thrown to the economic wolves. My wife had locked me out of our house. She had thought the public library was still open. In high dudgeon, I did a very rare thing. I went to the movie house and watched Taika's Jojo Rabbit. Taika now had celebrity status and could make any award winning rubbish. He plays himself as ghost Hitler in Third Reich Germany. One line however stuck in my mind. The young German Nazi says to the Jewish girl. "We don't need you." That line has been thrown at me in New Zealand.

Maori oratory and pride is endlessly publicly esteemed. European oratory is disabused as yellocution to quote my father's quip. In consequence now, the populist eloquent politicians are all Maori. All the white politicians are self apologetic mumblers. That is not necessarily a bad thing. Maori leaders since Ruatara have had vision but not good with the paperwork. The opposite with the white politicians since World War Two.

Jacinda's Ardern's Baby Neve

.21 June 2018, baby a few hours old and due her first bath as reported in New Zealand media. Jacinda's era as Prime Minister from 2017 to 2023 has always felt like a twilight zone movie.

The Christchurch Massacre

On 15 March 2019, there were mass shootings in two Christchurch Mosques that killed a lot of worshippers. The official count is fifty one killed and forty injured. This should have created logistic overflows in the morgues and hospitals. Refrigerated truck containers carried the same body count after the 1968 Wahine ferry disaster. The Court verdict was that this was committed by a "white supramacist" Australian, Brenton Tarrant. Why would a "white supramacist" attack Mosques when his gripe was against foreign immigration? Brenton is documented as liking Moslem culture in their own lands. How could one man with no military sniper experience cause so much havoc? In 2016, Benjamin Netanyahu said to New Zealand's Foreign Minister Murray McCully. "If New Zealand condemns Israel in the United Nations Security Council, New Zealand will declare war on New Zealand." Benjamin has always been true to his word in mania. New Zealand or rather Murray did that anyway. The issue was over Jewish settlers' theft of Palestinian land. Murray is a fussy good man who recognises shit when he sees it. He sent the New Zealand Embassy in China to investigate when I complained to him I was being denied access to internet cafes.

Shape shifter Brenton Tarrant

The Jacindastan Era

Would things be different if Bill English had been Prime Minister? He replaced John Key in 2016. Bill is a scion of the South Island gentry. He had been head prefect at his private school. He won the 2017 election. But Winston Peters tossed his Parliamentary Caucus to the weirdo and member of the World Economic Forum, Jacinda Ardern. Winston had no authority to overthrow the Government. Under Westminster rules, only Parliament has the authority to do that. New Zealand in the 1800s had had regular Parliamentary overthrows of the Government. The Governor then represented the power and authority of Government. But Kiwis have no understanding of constitutional issues which is their downfall. The legacy media either suppressed this constitutional factor or didn't know either. Rob Muldoon would have stretched his cheek and said. "They will have to pass a motion of no confidence in the Government in Parliament." But Bill English is a gentleman farmer. He was not prepared for a political or even physical brawl. The legacy media would have trumpeted it as a constitutional crisis and even coup. They might have even made it that reality.

Bill English as a good shepherd might have immediately closed the borders. Jacinda Ardern delayed that for three months and then put the country into lock down comas. She has been acting hysterically ever since. Even if she was sincere, she had a childish ignorance of the catastrophic effects on business and people of the lock downs and isolation. Bill, a conservative would not have banned the gene therapy vaccines and imported the life saving drugs. No Western political leader has dared defy the World Economic Forum.

2020 was the lowest mortality year in New Zealand history. It was also the first year of Covid-19. That is an officially unexplained anomaly. In the following years, the gene therapy vaccinations have been brought in. Under massive propaganda that resembles war fevers, the great majority of Kiwis have been vaxed. There appear to be no records what proportion have not been vaxed. In the vax years, the rise in New Zealand mortality approximates each year the loss of a small New Zealand town. Jacinda Ardern said she danced in front of Neve when in late 2020, Covid-19 was officially declared extinct in New Zealand. British propaganda showed fake film footage of Hitler dancing at news of the fall of Paris.Then Hitler met his downfall when he invaded Russia. Likewise did Jacinda when she brought in the mass vaccinations. President Xi of China was much smarter. He brought in the surveillance, mandates and lock downs. But he forbade the Western vaxes. Millions of elderly and sick Chinese had a reprieve of several years from death. As likewise thousands of Kiwis had a reprieve. However, they would nearly all be missed in China. In New Zealand, nearly all would not be missed. China now is inside the jaws of their Emperor, President Xi. New Zealand vax threw out Jacindastan in its 2023 election. Now a corporate man, Christopher Luxon is Prime Minister beholden to minority Parties and public opinion.

Retirement In the Covid era

A Superannuant enjoying his State funded retirement in the 2020s. He has survived a lot to earn his rest. But Covid vaccine spike proteins are invading his innards.

The End

Readers interested in my writings about the Covid era can read my Lloyd Gretton Facebook page and my tweets. That era remains unresolved for history.