main


archives:

February 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

January 2009

February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

October 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

February 2010

March 2010

April 2010

May 2010

June 2010

July 2010

August 2010

September 2010

October 2010

November 2010

December 2010

January 2011

February 2011

March 2011

April 2011

May 2011

June 2011

July 2011

October 2011

November 2011

December 2011

January 2012

February 2012

March 2012

September 2012

November 2012

l'enfer du North Island

  once again we sit here Monday, 23 May 2011 link

There's been a lot of chatter recently about the ratpure predictions of some insane American. The overall tenor of the reaction seems to have been "ha ha stupid Christians believing this madman." I can't join in with that - for one thing, it's not about "christians". Most of the Christians I know are facepalming as hard as the rest of us; equating them with this idiot is equivalent to confusing a moderate Muslim with that Abu Hamza al-Masri. And try as I might, I can't gloat about the fools who followed Camping. Some of them sold all their possessions, leaving themselves destitute. One woman tried to kill her own children to prevent them from suffering. This isn't funny; this is a sad, pathetic story of a delusional fool who got a lot of people to trust him, and then fucked up their lives good and proper. I can't laugh.

On the other hand, the matter of the Wellywood sign has been raised again. And there, I can laugh.

It's like that time when you were like 19 or so and you were pretty wasted and your mate Jonno (who's never been the sharpest crayon in the box) is really trashed and he's all like "Dude! You know what would be really awesome? It's be like if I got a giant tattoo of a chicken on my leg, right, so I can tell people I've got a 12" cock in my pants! Ha ha! Right?" and you go "Yeah, man, that would be awesome", and you laugh and shit, and you don't think about it any more except that a couple of days later you see Johnno and he like drops his fucking trousers, just drops them right there in Manners Mall and he's got a fucking chicken tatted up on his right inner thigh and you're like "WTF" and he's all "C'mon, bro, we talked about this, it's like an awesome funny joke, man" and you're totally "Whatevs, dude, I didn't think you'd like go and do it and shit" and he gets all defensive and is like "fuck you it's a great idea I'll get loads of chicks with this cos it shows that I've got a sense of humour and chicks always say that's what they dig in a guy man".

Or: just because something sounds like a slightly funny idea, doesn't mean you actually have to go and bloody do it.

I was amused that the CEO of the airport said that he expected "widespread support for the intent of a sign". Because it's the intent that matters, innit, not the actions. I'm not sure this is the look he should be going for. It makes the airport sound like an overprotective mother serving a sunday roast to a vegetarian child; "I spent hours cooking this! I just want to make sure you get enough to eat! I worry about you, you know; look, you're just skin and bone! At least have a little bit. I've got your best interests at heart! When you have children, you'll understand!"

Spent much of the weekend involved in various celebrations for M's fourth birthday. Four. Bloody hell. Pretty soon she'll be starting school, and then we'll really be in trouble.

Tallpoppy logo

unspoilt by progress

calm, peaceful, sweary



This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

All content © 2001-2017 Jack and Heather Elder. Play nice, kids.