Allen set up a Facebook profile under the name of one of the teenage girl's friends and posted things such as, "I was so excited when I shot my first deer, that I wanted to have sex with it", in the hope the girl would turn to him for comfort.She did not. Allen feels stink about this feint, but in his defence reveals she used the old "I can't go out with you because I am having a brain tumour" ruse.
Friday, April 30, 2010
At Shannon’s Way, our bottom line is behaviour change. Our only measure of success is action.
We help our clients make the changes they need (whether it’s internal relating to their staff and organisational culture or external to their business) to achieve their objectives. We use a broad range of tools to assist our clients:
- from helping an organisation at a board or governance level to coming in at any stage of a project to provide our project management expertise.
- from developing and implementing strategies that involve traditional (print, radio, TV) and innovative (digital social media – blogging, social networking) marketing channels through to undertaking research and analysis to understand a particular issue or opportunity or to providing our evaluation services as and when required.
We pride ourselves on being fanatically customer driven. We are committed to discovering the real underlying human insights that enable us to establish empathy and connect with our clients’ target audience. Establishing empathy and connection with that audience is fundamental to overcoming the significant barriers that need to be understood to put together a successful behaviour change campaign.
And because our team comes from multiple disciplines with broad-ranging expertise, we have the ability to facilitate and bring together a diverse group of stakeholders – from an organisation’s Board down to the management team and
No. Stop right there. Say no more. You are talking wank.
Behaviour change, governance, marketing channels, customer driven, empathy: it is all wank. As is the pale green background, the photos of that little girl and those smiling models and all that talk of sustainability and facilitating a diverse group of stakeholders. You are a bunch of hacks, especially your Social Media Guru who describes herself as a professional blogger, which is a euphemism for a parasite. We amateur bloggers despise people like her because she is polluting our territory with her money-making wheezes. The same goes for your empathy and your constant prattle about sustainability. It is all nothing more than marketing. You exist to squeeze money out of the public purse. You, ladies and gentlemen, are a broad range of tools.
I hated you as soon as I heard about you from the Barrs. I hate you not just for your glib, manipulative website but, more emphatically still, for your involvement with SCAPE. You see, I love art. And I despise people like you who take what little money there is for art as your consultancy fees. Art doesn't need you, but you thrive because the people who control the money don't like art, but are passionate about consultancy and outsourcing. So they employ you to invent fatuous public relations exercises, while artists are expected to work for nothing. And the lot of you trivialise art by making it fun and accessible and customer driven. You do that because you are afraid of art, afraid of what it might do, what it might show.
Anyway, that's enough about you. I just thought it might be fun to encourage my readers to take the survey you devised for SCAPE and stuff it up with imaginary answers.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Clearly there are a lot of proposals, and some, such as raising the alcohol excise, are perhaps aspirational, but the Government will give due consideration to the entirety of the report.
“I look forward to working with my Ministerial colleagues on doing that and drawing out the recommendations that will best achieve an environment where responsible alcohol use marks the New Zealand drinking culture,” he said.
Breathing is aspirational as well, yet the Government seems to favour that. So what's the difference? Class, that's what. The home life of our own dear Prime Minister is a responsible drinking culture. Rarely is he seen in a relaxed, informal setting without an acceptable drink: a glass of crisp white wine when at home, a bottle of some authentic South Island beer when he is grilling an authentic Kiwi barbecue with the Young Pretender in the garden of Government House, a bottle of the sponsor's beer when he is hanging out the gym with the All Blacks in a manly but not homo-erotic way.
Mr Key is Mr Reponsible Drinking. But he is as likely to be seen with a fag as to grow a beard. Prime Ministers do not do that sort of thing anymore. The other Associate Minister for Health, who once relaxed at the expense of British American Tobacco, now enjoys the hospitality of the brewers.
Smoking is a poor man's addiction, as Mrs Turia observes. Nice people stopped smoking years ago and the only middle-class smokers left are a few Bohemian types. On the middle-class scale of values, smoking is higher than glue-sniffing and mainlining H, but only slightly higher. Smoking dope is far more acceptable; in some communities it is almost mandatory. Smoking P is utterly unacceptable, except among the property-developing community. Contradictory? Of course, but we are the bourgoisie: we make the rules and some of them we observe.
So we, the bourgoisie, are quite happy to make smoking prohibitively expensive for those who do it. We will also take measures against the use of some forms of alcohol, such as RTDs - which are only consumed by teenage sluts who are bound to get pregnant and then live on the DPB for the next 18 years. But Mr Revenueman, you can keep your hands off our Gewürztraminer.
Mrs Hughley was about to bite into her burger when her husband, sitting beside her, noticed what looked to be blood splattered on the inside of the burger's wrapper.Rest assured: nothing is happening in New Zealand. This burger bloodbath was the Herald's lead story on Saturday.
"I looked over because my wife was complaining they'd forgotten the lettuce. And I see this splatter of blood ..."
The couple found what appeared to be blood - still wet - splattered on the bottom of the wrapper, on one of the corners, and soaked into the bottom bun of the burger.
Is there a connexion between the missing lettuce and the bloody bun? I think we should be told.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
New Zealand has no class struggle, no poor, no intellectual tradition, no overt group conflict, little self-awareness as a social entity and has sought for similarity rather than diversity in a restricted immigration programme; it is for these reasons that New Zealand has no sociology.
London: Thames & Hudson, 1969. p125
New Zealand has come of age. Every aspect of this multicultural society has something to offer and it all equates to style. This book is a showcase of the lifestyle that New Zealanders enjoy. New Zealand's recent desire for an increasingly informal lifestyle continues to inspire homes that blur the boundaries between indoors and outdoors. To achieve this, a series of warm, comfortable living spaces are featured throughout the book maintaining a strong connection to the outdoors. The influence of our natural surroundings can be seen in our love for organic furniture and natural building materials such as stone and wood. Even the most contemporary homes often incorporate natural elements. New Zealand Style is a collection of stylish elements including food, wine, interior design, lifestyle, relaxation, the home and garden - everything that makes up our society. Enjoy!
New Zealand Style :
Outdoor Living, Food, Wine, Relaxation and Home Ideas.
Australia: Murray Books, 2004.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
TOUGH NEW alcohol laws would make New Zealand an "international laughing stock" during the Rugby World Cup – but it is understood the government is secretly planning to override any attempt to spoil the party.Hey, look over there; it looks like a media beat-up has broken out. Yes indeed: the Law Commission was enjoying a quiet night out and wasn't looking for a fight, but the liquor kings got their punches in first. It's going to make us an international laughing stock (on a global stage) and it will spoil the RWC. It has to be stopped. Fortunately, the Government has a secret plan.
Auckland mayor John Banks says the Law Commission's proposal to ban entry to bars after 2am would damage New Zealand's interests as host of next year's tournament.
Of course, having drunken Poms all over your streets at Two in the morning is a small price to pay for the increased prosperity the RWC will bring our publicans. Economic forecasters are confident that the wealth will trickle down, like vomit on a drunkard's designer shirt, from the bar owners to the less fortunate: BMW dealers, gravel driveway installers, landscape architects, those sort of people.
It might also be worth noting at this stage in the game that Johnny Foreigner is not just accustomed to getting a refreshing pint of foaming ale in the wee small hours. No, sir: to go with that drink he enjoys recreational drugs; he is sorted for E's and Whizz, as your grandmother used to say. The British, I am reliably informed, have a particular penchant for cocaine, which they consume by the fistful.
Now are we going to be laughing stock of the Western World? Will we have nothing to offer our brothers of the Commonwealth than dope and disco biscuits? I should cocoa. What we we need is a ready supply of fresh white snow, obtained under a reciprocal agreement with one our South American trading partners and rugby football rivals: Dairy for Drugs, we can call it. That nice Mr Key should appoint a Drugs Tsar - Paul Holmes, perhaps - to obtain as much of the stuff as our Latin friends can grow. Then the party can begin.
The development of architecture and pottery demonstrates clearly that New Zealanders are capable of appreciating an aesthetic life more sensitive and more lasting than the ephemeral movements on a football field. Perhaps what these two art forms have in common with rugby is the recognition of physical vigour. If this is the case, and if therein lies something of the secret of the quality of all three, it is perhaps not surprising that poetry and the other visual arts have not succeeded to the same degree. Nor is it surprising that the poet who has made the most impact is James K Baxter, projecting as he does an essentially masculine and physical image through the delicacy of his sentiments.
London: Thames & Hudson, 1969; p189
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thousands of Aucklanders yesterday marched on to Queens Wharf, where thousands of soldiers left during both world wars, to mark the opening of the Red Gates on Anzac Day.This is an awful analogy: they did not march on Sunday; they meandered. I know. I was there. It was all very mediocre. You did not miss much.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
How are the finalists selected?
A jury of experts have been observing exhibitions around the country since the last announcement. They met for the first time early this year to decide the four 2010 finalists.The Walters Prize finalists have been announced and they are as OTN predicted. All that travelling around the country was a waste of time: it is a K Road thing. Three out of four went to Elam. They do Elam work, noisy and cynical: all sound and fury and empty signifiers. The fourth is a painter from Christchurch, Saskia Leek, whose work is rather lovely. She won't win.
I wonder if the programme leaders and directors and critics and (last and least lovely) independent curators who staff all these prize juries will ever realise how dull they have made art become. Everything takes up too much space, says very little and says it to a handful of people. In the room critics come and go, talking of each other and scarcely looking at the art. These are works to be glanced at, before purchase by a major institution. Much theorising can then take place in various university departments.
One cannot help but think that most major decisions about art are made by people who do not like art. They love the sounds of their own voices, they adore badly-written obfuscating texts and they are passionate about big things in small rooms. What they like most is things that are witty and clever. Anything that professes the slightest bit of feeling is abhorrent, far too serious and gloomy. They have made art become like advertising: sensational, self-important and trivial.In this writer's not-very-humble opinion, the best exhibition of last year was the Séraphine Pick retrospective, Tell Me More, at the Christchurch Art Gallery. Pick really can paint (it is no coincidence that both she and Leek are Ilam graduates) and she can express profound thoughts and feelings. She is that old-fashioned entity, a serious artist. No wonder she was not selected for the Walters.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Mr Dunne said overall he had not met many times with the industry. He said he did not need to meet Prof Sellman as his views - such as that alcohol should be treated as an illegal drug - were well known.
However, Mr Dunne said he was unaware of the "five plus" idea.
Speaking to journalists, Mr Dunne defended being hosted by the industry at a rugby game: "I am a rugby fanatic and I go to a rugby match to watch the All Blacks beat the Wallabies any time."Giving Captain Sensible a Health job may seem a little perverse, given the Captain's known friendship with the fag industry; and it seems Mr Dunne is living up to his reputation by adding the booze industry to his social calendar.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
“That is the only hope for the Conservative Party; a defeat would end Cameron's leadership and his whole gang could be flushed out of the party. In the meantime, genuine conservatives must vote tactically against the Cameron-occupied Conservative Party by supporting smaller parties at the polls.”Once it was only parties of the extreme left who wanted their side to lose; now it seems an Old Etonian Tory leader can be a cultural Marxist. It is all Post Modernism gone mad. Craig comments.
It seems that Science has changed during the course of this week. Only a few days ago, vast amounts of volcanic ash had the ability to stop the engines of jet airliners, with catastrophic results. Now, it seems that this is no longer the case. After extensive lobbying, flying through clouds of volcanic ash has become quite safe for commercial aircraft. The application of political techniques to the situation has brought about a result that could not be achieved by scientists, engineers and other white-coated boffins. The many thousands of Britons stranded in European countries with distressingly superior food and standards of dress will now be able to return to the damp and cheerless homes. They will also be able to vote for a Government. All is well.
The Government (which doesn't really exist because they are having an election) had planned to send what the Daily Mail called [irony alert] an armada to Spain. One ship, the patriotically-named HMS Albion, managed to get through; there was of course a fuss, which generated outrage and a very long headline. The other ships of the armada, HMesses Arc Royal and Ocean, did not reach the Continent in time; besides, there was a perfectly good ferry service and a tunnel. More outrage ensued when a German airliner was spotted over Heathrow, generating the Sprit of the Blitz (otherwise known as xenophohia). However, all is now well. The people of Europe proper, who have witnessed knitwear the like of which they have never seen before, will be relieved to know that the British are on their way home.
The Hallmark Poet Laureate has written a poem about it.
In other news, in the days before celebrity makeovers British television was this good:
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
So it was ironic that the name of the fish being sold as cod in one Leicestershire chip shop suggested it was anything but the real deal.
Hoki, a type of hake which is farmed in New Zealand and is also known as the blue grenadier, was found being served as cod by trading standards officials.
St Mary's Chippy, in St Mary's Road, Market Harborough, was caught in a sting operation by trading standards teams.
Consumer watchdogs have warned another chip shop is to face legal action for selling other varieties of fish as cod and that further prosecutions could follow.They are eating our fish here; they just didn't know it until recently. No doubt they left the skin on and smothered it with artificial vinegar, to fool the locals.
Hat-tip to Liberal England
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
If I had to choose a religious adherence, if there was no box on the form for Atheist, if a choice were mandatory, I think I would go for the Old Norse. It was the religion of my ancestors, after all; and it does involve a lot of feasting, fighting and trickery. It is also mercifully free of the clogging sentiment that pervades the monotheistic religions. And it may well be the One True Religion.
Think of it this way. Not so long ago, Iceland was a prosperous social democracy known only to WH Auden, Damon Albern and Eric Ravilious. Then along came some bankers, bringing with them bizarre economic nostrums which had escaped from a laboratory in the University of Chicago and infected the rest of the world. The bankers leveraged (that is, put in hock) the previously fish-based economy of Iceland. The rest of the world bought huge amounts of debt from Iceland. Then the world all went to crap because a load of mortgages had been sold in the USA to people who you would not want as your neighbours, and these mortgages had been bought by leading financial institutions who were too busy to notice what they were buying. The mortgages were not paid. The financial institutions were broke. Governments felt obliged to give them lots of money, for reasons which still are unclear.
Somebody had to take the blame. The governments of the world chose Iceland. It was a simple decision; after all nobody had ever been there, they didn't produce anything the world wanted, they were known only for some peculiar pop music and they had been stroppy about cod and whales. Gordon Brown, a man noted for his adherence to post-neoclassical endogenous growth theory, decided to stop Iceland growing. He seized Iceland's British assets, using anti-terrorism laws which had been designed for use against Muslims. He then banded with the rest of the world and demanded that Iceland pay them large amounts of money, the sort of amounts that they had paid the financial institutions.
The Icelanders reacted by choosing a lesbian as their leader, safe in the knowledge that the western media are easily distracted by a woman's sexuality. Then the Althing devised a plan to repay the British (and the Dutch, for some reason) by bankrupting the social democracy. However, being a social democracy, this plan had to be approved by a referendum. Unsurprisingly, facing a cake or death choice, the Icelanders chose cake. They refused to pay.
This decision was bound to cause trouble. When the Icelanders tried to stop British fishermen stealing Iceland's fish in the 1970s, the British sent the Royal Navy. A clear and present danger existed that Gordon Brown might send the Royal Navy, or at least what is left of it, again. There was not much the Icelanders could do. However, it seems the Norse gods have come to their rescue. They have caused a previously unknown and still unpronounceable volcano known as Eyjafjallajokull to erupt and have sent the clouds of ash to Britain, where it has stuffed up air travel.
The result, of course, is chaos. John Cleese had to take a very expensive taxi, Whitney Houston had to travel by ferry; Angela Merkel had to go to Portugal; many world leaders were unable to travel to the funeral of the Polish leader they despised. And it is not just famous people who were affected. All across Europe, ordinary decent people are afflicted by whining British chavs - lumpen proles who moan constantly, wear bri-nylon shell suits and copulate in public places. Despite their loathing for, and incomprehension of, everything foreign except American yoof culture, these creatures choose to spend much of their free time overseas. Unfortunately for the foreigners, now they cannot go home. The citizens of Europe may have to become accustomed to zooants, the Croydon Facelift and to being likened to female genitalia.
Meanwhile, many other British people are sleeping in airport lounges. This is not unusual; it happens all the time. For reasons unknown even to post-neoclassical endogenous growth theorists, any crisis in Britain tends to result in people sleeping in airport lounges. The Daily Mail usually refers to this phenomenon as the spirit of the Blitz.
Of course, there is consternation in Mayfair and rioting in Notting Hill Gate. The delicatessens, on which Britain's ruling class relies for edible food supplies, are quickly running out of fresh European food. Soon, university-educated people may be forced to eat at KFC like everybody else.
For those of us living in Better Britain, the volcano crisis may be a blessing. If the erupting continues, these ghastly people – toffs and chavs alike – may be unable to get here for the Rugby World Cup. So, ladies and gentlemen, charge your glasses and be upstanding; for the toast is to - Valhalla.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Prime Minister has just finished a hard week, including Obama's nuclear summit and a trip to Canada. Political editor Audrey Young gets him to reflect on the personal moments.Over to you, Audrey. Hit him with some incisive questions.
How did you feel about being caught up in the middle of an incredible scandal in Canada? Perhaps Prime Minister Stephen Harper asked for your advice because you sacked a minister, Richard Worth, last year and didn't tell the media why? Did you pass that on to Mr Harper? Why do you get on so well with Mr Harper? Could you recap some of the more personal moments at the summit? And why would you invite him? What about others? Did you speak to Good luck Jonathan? So when these leaders dish out invitations do they really mean it? President Obama gave Lee a big hug. Is he that sort of guy? That's all about showing who's boss, isn't it? What did you call President Obama and what did he call you? What is your next big overseas mission? How do you cope with the time difference? Do you really like North America? Do you have a favourite city in America?No doubt she got him to sign her autograph book. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, the scandal does not involve that nice Mr Key; he is not that interesting. It is all about Helena Guergis and it is not about sex. It is about money and drugs. But the Globe and Mail has picked up the story and all Canada is astonished that Mr Key finds Mr Harper warm and engaging. But then Mr Key also likes Mr Berlusconi, the well-known crook. He has also discovered that Chancellor Merkel likes him just as much as she likes Helen Clark. He has spoken to the King of Jordan as well ("Obviously educated in England, in one of those public schools I'd say." He is a King, Prime Minister; he was a half-Colonel in the Hussars; you should know this). Most important, has been touched by the President.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Rugby is a contact sport so if they're scared of contact they should go and play soccer which is also a contact sport so if they're scared of that then maybe they should play netballSee, if you fear death or permanent disability, then you should be playing some sissy girls' sport. And don't worry about the "slight increase" in neck injuries due to tackles: the sport development officer doubts whether there will be any fatalities. Should you be worried? Of course, that is what the news media is all about - making you worry.