New Zealand's Parliamentary Services is a bit like the Vatican, in that it is a weirdly anachronistic land out of time with its surroundings. Proportional Representation might have brought NZ into the House, but the House is ruled by the Timaru Freemasons circa 1952.
For some reason, I tend to get singled out for special treatment whenever I visit Parliament. I try to avoid the place whenever possible, but yesterday I made an exception because I wanted to witness Mojo Mathers' maiden speech.
I should have stayed home.
Sure, enough, security guards were on full alert, following me after passing through the metal detector and Xray gun without so much as a blip. A guard harried and hassled us no less than three times, before we were ushered into the Grand Hall to watch the maiden speeches on TV. The Tannoy volume was set too low and the speaker set-up caused more interference than harmony, making it more than difficult for the average Deaf person to hear without straining.
Later on at Back Benches, I encountered my very first arrogant Greenie:
The Green tables booed out Wallace's introduction of NZ First MP Richard Prosser like a rude Occupy mob. So much for free speech and tolerance. But at least most of them calmed down. Not Jack. He talked the entire night. He talked through the MP's talking. He talked through the price of milk debate. He talked through the minimum wage.
The Greens got a massive jump in parliamentary funding. It would be a shame to squander it on jumped-up cunts who vandalise all the hard work that the party has done.