Saturday, May 12, 2007

Gangs of New Zealand

There was this skit bouncing round my head coupla years ago; Queer Eye for the Homeless Guy. It involved a bunch of middle-management queers picking up Blanket Man and turning him into a responsible, suit-wearing office worker. The final image was of him standing by the water cooler discussing Shortland Street with some albino chick. It all flashed back listening to Ron Mark on Eye to Eye this morning. He wouldn't have got the joke. It is beyond his understanding.

Gangs do not exist primarily as criminal enterprises. They exist as families. Yes, the adoption rules are different yet they are there. They may provide for their way of life through extra-legal revenue streams, but that is the means not the ends. In the end, it is about belonging. Our old next door neighbour from Palmy days, Dr Ross, adopted two kids. The girl became a biker chick, lived the high life and was dead in a ditch after a motorcycle accident, never making 21. For a moment though, she belonged somewhere.

If Chester Burrows and Ron Mark could only absorb what the former Mongrel Mob Jesus freak and the Black Power spokesdude were saying. They know it's going all Tony Soprano on the gangs. Instead of offering an olive branch to them (the tattooed dude recalling Muldoon's dialogue), all the blue dudes could offer was their way or the highway. What kind of choice is that? They really expect these outlaws to mangle their mana, submit to the paternalistic ignorance of the know-alls? You would sooner see bin Laden submitting to Dubyah.