Artist Grahame Sydney was on NatRad this afternoon criticising the Change the Flag campaign when what we really should be changing is the National Anthem. Why can't we do both?
Surely, Sydney's soapbox has been made more relevant because of the flag competition? It's irrelevant anyway because I completely agree with him. God Defend NZ is a terrible dirge "saturated in god" as Sydney points out.
It was only made official in 1977 when the Queen came to visit for her Jubilee Tour and Muldoon had nothing to give her apart from a law making Thomas Bracken's paean to Anglicism compulsory.
The coin dropped for both Sydney as well as new Afternoons host Jesse Mulligan when they discovered that NZ has two official anthems. God Save the Queen is the other one. The original colonial song, so to speak.
You can see why Muldoon gave Queenie an old but new song as a present. During all future visits to NZ, Liz wouldn't have to listen quite so often to those most over-played bars of bad music. Is there an official record of how many times she's had to grimace through God Save the Queen at varying levels of musicianship?
The dual national anthem is an important precedent though. It shows a way Key could have sold the flag change without all the bad voodoo from the RSA. Two flags for the price of one.
It also shows how swapping out God Save the Queen for something more relevant and less anachronistic would avoid more spilt beer too.
I've had half a crack at a New National Anthem before. Others say Trinity Roots' Home Land and Sea should be it. Here's something I've been working on for a few months now. It still needs work and frankly I wouldn't be surprised if I don't win. It'll do just fine as an icebreaker though:
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
The only thing our old ones
Were guilty of was
Gullibility
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
Through wind, rain and fine sunshine
Walk barefoot proudly
Into the future
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
Our banner is not our cape
There's no religion
Except sport, of course
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
Our wildlife will not kill you
But beware the land
Hypothermia
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
Our cops are the least fascist
The courts least corrupt
Bent, never broken
Fuck Australia, This is New Zealand
Aotearoa
Don't expect too much from it
You might just like it
One day ahead
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata
Showing posts with label republican. Show all posts
Showing posts with label republican. Show all posts
Monday, July 27, 2015
Monday, January 20, 2014
Wahine Meanies, Maori Modernity
It has been interesting watching the clash between Maori tikanga and modern etiquette over the silly season. Late last year, the Speaker sought to alleviate sexism on Parliament Grounds by no longer forbidding women from sitting in the front row of the wharenui. Outrage and umbrage followed.
Skirmishes such as this are happening all around the place, such as the law-breaking women drivers of Saudi Arabia. Traditional mores and ways of conservatism are blown by the winds of change. What will remain and what will evolve?
The illusion of progress informs us that culture disgards the archaic when something better comes along. Take the wharenui, for example. Not long after colonisation began, Maori stopped lashing their walls together and began using nails. After the missionaries passed through, stained glass windows let the light indoors. Later on, corrogated iron replaced the raupo roof. Paints provided a wider palette that the traditional range of pigments.
Some things are more tikanga than others, eh. I'm not convinced by the justifications of protecting women from taniwhas and bad atua for hui seating arrangements. My theory is that it's a face-saving gesture to the old male kaumatua. Men go deaf more readily than women, and the old geezers sit in the front seats to better grasp what's going on. The sharper eared whaine can hear just fine from further back.
Mind you, if we're talking about ditching archaic mumbo-jumbo from Parliament, the Speaker could fire Black Rod and the pseudo-Beefeaters that open Parliament.
Skirmishes such as this are happening all around the place, such as the law-breaking women drivers of Saudi Arabia. Traditional mores and ways of conservatism are blown by the winds of change. What will remain and what will evolve?
The illusion of progress informs us that culture disgards the archaic when something better comes along. Take the wharenui, for example. Not long after colonisation began, Maori stopped lashing their walls together and began using nails. After the missionaries passed through, stained glass windows let the light indoors. Later on, corrogated iron replaced the raupo roof. Paints provided a wider palette that the traditional range of pigments.
Some things are more tikanga than others, eh. I'm not convinced by the justifications of protecting women from taniwhas and bad atua for hui seating arrangements. My theory is that it's a face-saving gesture to the old male kaumatua. Men go deaf more readily than women, and the old geezers sit in the front seats to better grasp what's going on. The sharper eared whaine can hear just fine from further back.
Mind you, if we're talking about ditching archaic mumbo-jumbo from Parliament, the Speaker could fire Black Rod and the pseudo-Beefeaters that open Parliament.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Mistaking the Map for the Territory
The Real Steve Gray, who is way more popular than me, has taken offence at today's NZ Herald cartoon, the one where Emmerson's got Wall, Hague and co. raising the big gay flag like the famous Iwo Jima war porn.
Although the Iwo Jima pole-dance wasn't staged, as I noted in the comments section, it certainly wasn't the first flag raised as the myth take goes. Colonel Johnson wasn't happy with the size of his flag at the Iwo Jima landing, and sent men up a mountain with a much bigger flag. Not all of them lived.
In NZ-speak, teh gays took Tongariro in 1986, by far and away the old, largest and most necessary territory. In 2002, they planted a flag on Ngauruhoe, the youngest cone. Now, they have reached no greater height. It's the big Ruapehu.
But if you still don't dig it, let's kill the metaphors and go with a story.
The proudest moment of my time collecting signatures for the Change the Flag referendum was the day I convinced a member of the old Maori Battalion to sign for a new flag.
First, I told him that both my papas had fought in the World Wars. As I understood these men, they weren't fighting for Blighty or Empire. They were fighting for their families, their land, their way of life.
The flag they fought under was a symbol of the land and people, not the other way around. People are more important than flags, and their symbols should have meaning for them. Symbolism without meaning is mere pomp, and we are not bloody Brits here, mate.
Although the Iwo Jima pole-dance wasn't staged, as I noted in the comments section, it certainly wasn't the first flag raised as the myth take goes. Colonel Johnson wasn't happy with the size of his flag at the Iwo Jima landing, and sent men up a mountain with a much bigger flag. Not all of them lived.
In NZ-speak, teh gays took Tongariro in 1986, by far and away the old, largest and most necessary territory. In 2002, they planted a flag on Ngauruhoe, the youngest cone. Now, they have reached no greater height. It's the big Ruapehu.
But if you still don't dig it, let's kill the metaphors and go with a story.
The proudest moment of my time collecting signatures for the Change the Flag referendum was the day I convinced a member of the old Maori Battalion to sign for a new flag.
First, I told him that both my papas had fought in the World Wars. As I understood these men, they weren't fighting for Blighty or Empire. They were fighting for their families, their land, their way of life.
The flag they fought under was a symbol of the land and people, not the other way around. People are more important than flags, and their symbols should have meaning for them. Symbolism without meaning is mere pomp, and we are not bloody Brits here, mate.
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Kiwi Grundnorm
Waitangi Day seems a fitting time to share some conclusions from my summer study of How Things Change in New Zealand.
It is already well understood how things don't change around here. Colin Espiner's welcome return to blogging highlights the Kiwi mantra of "She'll be right". This laconic, laid-back philosophy has a nasty duality which can be summed up thusly: If we ignore a grave injustice for long enough, it will inevitably resolve itself to everyone's general satisfaction.
Your choice whether this is fantastic naivete or helpless optimism. As a philosophy though, it has more plot holes than a Scientology chapter. As a security blanket however, it has provided New Zealanders with a warm glow of smugness from inertia.
So, how do things change in NZ? Let's get the obvious stuff out of the way first. Everything always changes. Hate it or loathe it, we are glued to the arrow of time. History doesn't repeat, although it may be fractal with self-similar blobs.
Political reform must also be continuous, as that PriceWaterhouseCoopers wonk said last year. Otherwise, as Malcolm Tucker said in the final episode of the Thick of It, "Dark shit builds up." And then you get a Rogernomics enema.
Unfortunately, the law is usually the last thing to change. Take, for example, our alleged national symbols. Our current cobbled together official national flag was officially endorsed after over thirty years of informal use by the public and military. The dreadful dirge that is our current national anthem was written by an Irish Australian in 1876, and recognised officially only in 1977.
Lewis Holden makes a good point along these lines in today's NZ Herald. The Silver Fern is used by an increasing number of NZers to represent them instead of the old defaced ensign. Never mind that the Silver Fern was first hoisted during the Boer War, around the same time the blue ensign was adopted as de facto flag of convenience. The people are deciding to adapt the Silver Fern for themselves, and damn whatever the law says.
Similar cultural adaptation has been replicated in Deaf culture. Official government policy outlawed sign language for 99 years. That didn't stop the underground proliferation of NZSL, which evolved from a BSL, ASL mash-up into its own linguistic space.
Although it was illegal for many years not to report deaf people to the government, at least they didn't ruin their lives by locking them up in prison. The same cannot be said for the substantial proportion of the NZ population arrested and persecuted to this day for using cannabis.
Happy Bob Marley's birthday. Get up, stand up. Live free or die Kiwi.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The Continuing Adventures of Harry the Bastard
Harry the Bastard must be proving a boon to the Republican movement, repelling people away from the Windsor brainwash. Harry Windsor's latest blurt, where he brags of killing people from the Xbox console of an Apache helicopter, has the establishment so worried, the Torygraph is calling for the young prince to be gagged. And not in the Porterhouse faggot initiation way either.
Little wonder. There's not a mad leap of the imagination to having Harry behind the guns of an Apache gung-ho Collateral Murder expose that would show the little psycho up, upgrading his notoriety to Harry the Fucking Bastard. That's the problem with really good soldiers. They love to kill. The reason no longer matters.
Little wonder. There's not a mad leap of the imagination to having Harry behind the guns of an Apache gung-ho Collateral Murder expose that would show the little psycho up, upgrading his notoriety to Harry the Fucking Bastard. That's the problem with really good soldiers. They love to kill. The reason no longer matters.
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Jellybelly
What a dangerously strange forelock-tugging blighted world we live in. A nurse is dead after failing to save the honour of the unborn alleged future head of state of New Zealand from a couple of shock jock Aussie yahoos. You wouldn't get these messed up circumstances if you had a secular head of state, and not some pompous anachronism that gives its citizens the heebie-jeebies if they fail to live up to the myth.
An appropriate lullaby for the Royal Jelly:
An appropriate lullaby for the Royal Jelly:
Saturday, December 31, 2011
A Game of John Key Gong
Ritchie McCaw seems pretty smart for a rugbyhead. He turned down John Key's gong. These things are supposed to be earned not won, and a bonus culture demon like King John doesn't get it. McCaw does.
Amongst the hoards of National backers getting their royal blue ribbons handed out are some very good Kiwis. Ralph Hotere is indeed a living treasure. Des Britten is steak tartare among McNuggets. Ian Taylor is a good egg.
So it is with a little nuance and diplomacy that as a proud member of the New Zealand Republican Movement, that I declare a 2012 Resolution to not use any royal title or honorific gong from now on. Hey, it's non-violent protest and as far as I can see, not illegal.
Sir Bob is gone, Mister Jones is back. Dames Susan and Kiri are now referred to by their real names, Ms. Devoy, Ms. Te Kanawa. And if I bump into Charlie and Camilla next year, it'll be Mr. and Mrs. Windsor. Or Saxe-Coburg if they prefer.
This is partly a reaction to the non-news that these bi-annual gongs are solely at the prime minister's whim, partly because these gongs are always so goddamn vanilla. A truly NZ recognition system wouldn't have this rigid glass box in the land of the long tail.
But there's a deeper reason to abandon these airs and graces. It's best said by painter, bongo player, strip club patron, cannabis and LSD taker Richard Feynman, Nobel Prize winner for his work in Quantum Electro Dynamics. We do things for the fun of it:
Amongst the hoards of National backers getting their royal blue ribbons handed out are some very good Kiwis. Ralph Hotere is indeed a living treasure. Des Britten is steak tartare among McNuggets. Ian Taylor is a good egg.
So it is with a little nuance and diplomacy that as a proud member of the New Zealand Republican Movement, that I declare a 2012 Resolution to not use any royal title or honorific gong from now on. Hey, it's non-violent protest and as far as I can see, not illegal.
Sir Bob is gone, Mister Jones is back. Dames Susan and Kiri are now referred to by their real names, Ms. Devoy, Ms. Te Kanawa. And if I bump into Charlie and Camilla next year, it'll be Mr. and Mrs. Windsor. Or Saxe-Coburg if they prefer.
This is partly a reaction to the non-news that these bi-annual gongs are solely at the prime minister's whim, partly because these gongs are always so goddamn vanilla. A truly NZ recognition system wouldn't have this rigid glass box in the land of the long tail.
But there's a deeper reason to abandon these airs and graces. It's best said by painter, bongo player, strip club patron, cannabis and LSD taker Richard Feynman, Nobel Prize winner for his work in Quantum Electro Dynamics. We do things for the fun of it:
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Bloody Oath
This is one of the numerous reasons why I couldn't realistically stand for parliament or, indeed, most of the more interesting government departments:
No. I'll swear by no such fiction. The repugnance doesn't just end there though. There's no sign of an NZ person anywhere in this oath of honour. The oath practically demands the human sacrifice of the NZ people to the greater glory of whatever majesty sits on some throne halfway across the globe.
Little wonder our sworn authorities are so messed up.
I, ..., swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her [or His] Majesty [Specify the name of the reigning Sovereign, as thus: Queen Elizabeth the Second], Her [or His] heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God.There are several things wrong with these swear words. As I've said before, if push comes to shove it'll be Rachel over Charlie any day of the week. Then there's this God thing, presumably of the Anglican variety since Liz Windsor is the head of that creed. In short, you want me to promise to serve and protect an invisible supreme woman on pain of punishment by a non-existent supreme cop.
No. I'll swear by no such fiction. The repugnance doesn't just end there though. There's no sign of an NZ person anywhere in this oath of honour. The oath practically demands the human sacrifice of the NZ people to the greater glory of whatever majesty sits on some throne halfway across the globe.
Little wonder our sworn authorities are so messed up.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Vague Royal Coincidences
If there's one thing that pisses me off more than golf, it's the attention lavished over the Royal Wedding. Civil wars and sovereign debt ceilings, never big front page news, are being pushed even further to the back of the news cycle thanks to the UK's merchandising answer to Star Wars. As the UK sinks slowly under the waves of austerity and further decline, witness the pouring millions and millions of pounds down the drain on useless pageantry. The UK is a Royal junkie not above spending its last fiver on one more stab chasing St George's dragon.
Here's Charlie Brooker on the subject, starting around 4:45 in:
There's a neat little skit at the end on the importance of voting in the referendum that could well apply here in NZ. Viva MMP!
Here's Charlie Brooker on the subject, starting around 4:45 in:
There's a neat little skit at the end on the importance of voting in the referendum that could well apply here in NZ. Viva MMP!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
God save the Queen, because the plebs won't
The Queen asked ministers for a poverty handout to help heat her palaces but was rebuffed because they feared it would be a public relations disaster, documents disclosed under the Freedom of Information Act reveal. Royal aides were told that the £60m worth of energy-saving grants were aimed at families on low incomes and if the money was given to Buckingham Palace instead of housing associations or hospitals it could lead to "adverse publicity" for the Queen and the Government.
Putting in the boot with the other foot, Gordon Campbell looks at the hopeful demise of the Commonwealth Games. Stephen Franks might pine for renaming them the Empire Games. The Empire's dead, Stephen. Even the Brits are seriously considering going Republic, making QEII the last Queen of England. That would guarantee her the plinth.
Right about now, I'd recommend the UK royal family contact Simon Cowell about starring in a new reality show. It's a bit of spare change that would go to supplement the 38 million or so taxpayer quid a year handed over to the palatial household. Reality TV is the closest they'll get to royalties right now. I understand that Elton John gets a million quid for playing at birthdays. What kind of rent would Prince William get?
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Are you an NZ Republican?
You are at Piha beach. You see Rachel Hunter and Prince Charles drowning. You can only save one of them. Who do you save?
I've been pondering an acid test for support of an NZ head of state for some time. This is the best I can come up with. Why would Prince Charles be drowning off Piha? I dunno. Maybe his Airbus 319 crashed on the way to a compost festival.
I've been pondering an acid test for support of an NZ head of state for some time. This is the best I can come up with. Why would Prince Charles be drowning off Piha? I dunno. Maybe his Airbus 319 crashed on the way to a compost festival.
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Not One of Us
I'm buggered. Shattered. My head hurts. It's taking me a stiff joint and a cheap cask of red wine to put my mind in the recovery position enough to speak of attending the Reconstituting the Constitution Conference at Parliament earlier today. Even for a political junkie such as me, the RCC was damn close to a terminal overdose of political enquiry. And there's still one more day to go, which I'm having serious doubts over.
I was accidentally invited to attend as a delegate, volunteering as a keen understudy when the intended invitee couldn't make it. I knew the territory well enough. I've been going to Parliament since I was 12. But it is a hostile and estranged place for outsiders these days, mainly due to the post-9/11 security death grip.
The young ones will never know it, but there was once a magical time when anyone could walk up the steps of Parliament and enter through the revolving doors. Like a genuine citizen. The watchmen were always there, but the only time there was a queue for watching the House in action was when the gallery was full.
These days, foreign dignitaries and plebs alike are all squeezed through the security sphincter. No matter that you might have just popped out for ten minutes for a smoke between sessions, a reboot of sorts, it's back through the door that goes ping.
It goes ping because I'm wearing my suit, an honour that is usually bestowed on weddings and funerals only. It's an old school hand tailored suit with braces. The honour I am bestowing on parliament is forcing me to be spread-eagled every goddamned time I return from a cigarette. If I go tomorrow, it'll be in my uniform, not theirs.
Mind you, if you're a beltway leprechaun with the correct badge of power, none of this applies. You can enter through any of the Members' Entrances. The Koru Club of power. These things are noted with belligerence. It is hard to swallow the fiction that the people are supreme in a democracy that treats its visiting citizens like terrorists.
So. Reconstituting the Constitution. David Farrar was there, as always. He's blogged it up very nicely. I'll throw in my notes too.
Session 1: Lessons from abroad
Professor Robert Hazell from London mentioned the Blair years of constitutional reform. Devolving powers to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, giving them the hassle of regulation without the kitty of taxation. It reminds me of the Local Government Act here. The House of Lords defeated Labour votes every 1 in 3, good odds.
The UK's Human Rights Act is inferior to NZ's Bill of Rights Act. Their Freedom of Information Act is second to NZ's Official Information Act. Although the UK's FOIA is restrictive and complex compared to NZ's, it still beats Canada's, Ireland's and Australia's versions hands down.
Dagg bless NZ's Cabinet Manual.
Professor Heinz Klug from Wisconsin looked at South Africa's constitutional reboot after Apartheid. Interesting mistake regarding SA joining the WTO too early, a third world population facing first world intellectual property charges when it comes to AIDS treatment. Weird facts likes the White minority veto on state spending up until 1999. The use of cartoons to explain the working draft of the constitution to the illiterate masses. The lessons of Constructive Ambiguity, which sounds a hell of a lot like the Treaty of Waitangi.
Speaking of which, Tim Selwyn should eat his blog for saying the Treaty of Waitangi will not be centre stage at the conference. Annette Sykes was there, and she wasn't the only one going on about it. You cannot discuss constitutional reform without mentioning the ToW. But anyway...
Session 2: The Republican question
A rather one-sided debate featuring Michael Cullen and Dean Knight, chaired by Sir James Bolger. Cullen's speech notes got leaked all over Sunday, and he pretty much abandoned them to admit defeat to the inevitable once QEII carks it. Agreement was reached that NZ would probably prefer the staus quo ceremonial head of state and not one with any executive function. That's what's the PM is for.
If ceremonial is the choice, why a popular election for it? What's wrong with a super-majority of parliament? It's an improvement on the current system, whereby the PM of the day chooses the Governor-General. Alas, it'll never happen under the Back-to-Brit Nats.
Session 3: The Need for a written constitution; strengthening the Bill of Rights and the place of the Treaty of Waitangi
Justice John McGrath chaired this segment. Mai Chen spoke ten to the dozen, fast forwarding through her paper on the pros and cons of a supreme law. Money quote from a guy called Richard Shaw who noted that "the advent of the internet has not demonstrably rejuvenated people's engagement with politics, but that New Zealanders' relative disengagement with formal politics is being reproduced online."
Doctors Andrew and Petra Butler looked at expanding the Bill of Rights, including social, economic and property rights, but I think they're on a hiding to nothing on that one. Mai Chen mentioned the risks of Pandora's Box.
The highlight of the day was Judge Joe Williams, who came out with this gem (paraphrased); a New Zealand exceptionalism based on diversity and tolerance. He spoke from his notes hand-written in an exercise book. His subject was the Treaty of Waitangi, but it looked bigger than that from where I was sitting. I would happily vote this guy head of state.
Mai Chen tied it all together, noting the cleavages between minorities and majorities. I may not be Asian, gay or Maori, but I understood what she meant.
Session 4: Electoral Law, including Maori seats, MMP, fixed term and campaign finance
I had stopped taking notes at this stage. I was hoping for a stroke or aneurysm. Simon Power spoke sensibly, Charles Chauvel needs to use less Powerpoint. MMP isn't going anywhere. Neither are the Maori seats or four year terms. Logic and popular opinion seldom coincide.
I was accidentally invited to attend as a delegate, volunteering as a keen understudy when the intended invitee couldn't make it. I knew the territory well enough. I've been going to Parliament since I was 12. But it is a hostile and estranged place for outsiders these days, mainly due to the post-9/11 security death grip.
The young ones will never know it, but there was once a magical time when anyone could walk up the steps of Parliament and enter through the revolving doors. Like a genuine citizen. The watchmen were always there, but the only time there was a queue for watching the House in action was when the gallery was full.
These days, foreign dignitaries and plebs alike are all squeezed through the security sphincter. No matter that you might have just popped out for ten minutes for a smoke between sessions, a reboot of sorts, it's back through the door that goes ping.
It goes ping because I'm wearing my suit, an honour that is usually bestowed on weddings and funerals only. It's an old school hand tailored suit with braces. The honour I am bestowing on parliament is forcing me to be spread-eagled every goddamned time I return from a cigarette. If I go tomorrow, it'll be in my uniform, not theirs.
Mind you, if you're a beltway leprechaun with the correct badge of power, none of this applies. You can enter through any of the Members' Entrances. The Koru Club of power. These things are noted with belligerence. It is hard to swallow the fiction that the people are supreme in a democracy that treats its visiting citizens like terrorists.
So. Reconstituting the Constitution. David Farrar was there, as always. He's blogged it up very nicely. I'll throw in my notes too.
Session 1: Lessons from abroad
Professor Robert Hazell from London mentioned the Blair years of constitutional reform. Devolving powers to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, giving them the hassle of regulation without the kitty of taxation. It reminds me of the Local Government Act here. The House of Lords defeated Labour votes every 1 in 3, good odds.
The UK's Human Rights Act is inferior to NZ's Bill of Rights Act. Their Freedom of Information Act is second to NZ's Official Information Act. Although the UK's FOIA is restrictive and complex compared to NZ's, it still beats Canada's, Ireland's and Australia's versions hands down.
Dagg bless NZ's Cabinet Manual.
Professor Heinz Klug from Wisconsin looked at South Africa's constitutional reboot after Apartheid. Interesting mistake regarding SA joining the WTO too early, a third world population facing first world intellectual property charges when it comes to AIDS treatment. Weird facts likes the White minority veto on state spending up until 1999. The use of cartoons to explain the working draft of the constitution to the illiterate masses. The lessons of Constructive Ambiguity, which sounds a hell of a lot like the Treaty of Waitangi.
Speaking of which, Tim Selwyn should eat his blog for saying the Treaty of Waitangi will not be centre stage at the conference. Annette Sykes was there, and she wasn't the only one going on about it. You cannot discuss constitutional reform without mentioning the ToW. But anyway...
Session 2: The Republican question
A rather one-sided debate featuring Michael Cullen and Dean Knight, chaired by Sir James Bolger. Cullen's speech notes got leaked all over Sunday, and he pretty much abandoned them to admit defeat to the inevitable once QEII carks it. Agreement was reached that NZ would probably prefer the staus quo ceremonial head of state and not one with any executive function. That's what's the PM is for.
If ceremonial is the choice, why a popular election for it? What's wrong with a super-majority of parliament? It's an improvement on the current system, whereby the PM of the day chooses the Governor-General. Alas, it'll never happen under the Back-to-Brit Nats.
Session 3: The Need for a written constitution; strengthening the Bill of Rights and the place of the Treaty of Waitangi
Justice John McGrath chaired this segment. Mai Chen spoke ten to the dozen, fast forwarding through her paper on the pros and cons of a supreme law. Money quote from a guy called Richard Shaw who noted that "the advent of the internet has not demonstrably rejuvenated people's engagement with politics, but that New Zealanders' relative disengagement with formal politics is being reproduced online."
Doctors Andrew and Petra Butler looked at expanding the Bill of Rights, including social, economic and property rights, but I think they're on a hiding to nothing on that one. Mai Chen mentioned the risks of Pandora's Box.
The highlight of the day was Judge Joe Williams, who came out with this gem (paraphrased); a New Zealand exceptionalism based on diversity and tolerance. He spoke from his notes hand-written in an exercise book. His subject was the Treaty of Waitangi, but it looked bigger than that from where I was sitting. I would happily vote this guy head of state.
Mai Chen tied it all together, noting the cleavages between minorities and majorities. I may not be Asian, gay or Maori, but I understood what she meant.
Session 4: Electoral Law, including Maori seats, MMP, fixed term and campaign finance
I had stopped taking notes at this stage. I was hoping for a stroke or aneurysm. Simon Power spoke sensibly, Charles Chauvel needs to use less Powerpoint. MMP isn't going anywhere. Neither are the Maori seats or four year terms. Logic and popular opinion seldom coincide.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Hub and hubris
Brian Fallow takes a critical look at John Key's blue sky thinking that NZ should be a financial hub back office. Frankly, I can't see it either. In the Nineties, call centres were supposed to be NZ's future for working class jobs. They're all shutting down and setting up in SE Asia these days. Any hub would be as short-lived. It's not a goer.
A backlog of private members bills were voted on in parliament last night. National voted against the NZ Head of State Bill being sent to select committee, choosing to stick with the unambitious status quo. The Nats don't want to miss their turn to choose their own pet Governor General next year, eh. Good on the Greens, Labour and United Future voting in favour of sending it to select committee.
National did support the first reading of Paul Quinn's stripping of voting rights of short-term prisoners bill though. The Electoral (Disqualification of Convicted Prisoners) Amendment Bill is a repellent little bill that displays little improvement in public good and a whole can of petty, nasty disenfranchisement. A hex on the Nats, Act and United Future for supporting this grubby vote-stripping thing.
A backlog of private members bills were voted on in parliament last night. National voted against the NZ Head of State Bill being sent to select committee, choosing to stick with the unambitious status quo. The Nats don't want to miss their turn to choose their own pet Governor General next year, eh. Good on the Greens, Labour and United Future voting in favour of sending it to select committee.
National did support the first reading of Paul Quinn's stripping of voting rights of short-term prisoners bill though. The Electoral (Disqualification of Convicted Prisoners) Amendment Bill is a repellent little bill that displays little improvement in public good and a whole can of petty, nasty disenfranchisement. A hex on the Nats, Act and United Future for supporting this grubby vote-stripping thing.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Prince and the Porpoise
I saw this guy today, name of Bill Windsor. According to the law of the land, this young bloke has been ordained by god as the second in line to be New Zealand's Head of State. Not just any god either, but the Church of England god. His Nana is our current Head of State.
Now don't get me wrong. I have nothing against Prince William personally. We not only share a first name, but are both embedded in wildly dysfunctional families, including one dead parent. So I can feel for the guy. Hell, we'd both be at home sitting around the peace pipe as well, or is that just Harry?
Nevertheless, I was compelled this morning to attend his opening of the new Supreme Court building and protest for the Republican Movement. This is not to be confused with the NZ Republican Party, half of which were also present - all three of them - across the road from where our larger and more diffuse protest was based.
It was all a bit touch and go for a while. Early morning fog around Wellington and its airport had refused to fog off, and Prince William's plane dawdled above the city waiting for a gap in the mist. The delay tempted a gaggle of Brit journalists off from their perch on the steps of the court and over to check on this whole Republican Movement business.
Although Lewis Holden couldn't be there in person, the Republican Movement secretary Mike Smith handled it all very professionally. Strangely enough, no NZ MSM took the opportunity to show any curiosity in the cause except a few cameras, art for the words. Nope, I lie. There was one media attendee who made their support known. Nice.
His Highness finally turns up in a flashing motorcade of Holdens. Formalities are performed and in he goes. And that's it for another day of peaceful protest.
And now, here's Moko the friendly dolphin. Not so much a porpoise, more like an aquatic Skippy the bush kangaroo:
Now don't get me wrong. I have nothing against Prince William personally. We not only share a first name, but are both embedded in wildly dysfunctional families, including one dead parent. So I can feel for the guy. Hell, we'd both be at home sitting around the peace pipe as well, or is that just Harry?
Nevertheless, I was compelled this morning to attend his opening of the new Supreme Court building and protest for the Republican Movement. This is not to be confused with the NZ Republican Party, half of which were also present - all three of them - across the road from where our larger and more diffuse protest was based.
It was all a bit touch and go for a while. Early morning fog around Wellington and its airport had refused to fog off, and Prince William's plane dawdled above the city waiting for a gap in the mist. The delay tempted a gaggle of Brit journalists off from their perch on the steps of the court and over to check on this whole Republican Movement business.
Although Lewis Holden couldn't be there in person, the Republican Movement secretary Mike Smith handled it all very professionally. Strangely enough, no NZ MSM took the opportunity to show any curiosity in the cause except a few cameras, art for the words. Nope, I lie. There was one media attendee who made their support known. Nice.
His Highness finally turns up in a flashing motorcade of Holdens. Formalities are performed and in he goes. And that's it for another day of peaceful protest.
And now, here's Moko the friendly dolphin. Not so much a porpoise, more like an aquatic Skippy the bush kangaroo:
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Game on
Pardon me while I burn some herb to the goddess Fortuna for picking Keith Locke's New Zealand Head of State Bill from the ballot. The hard yard is now on to get the politicians to vote it to select committee.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Public Bar Republican
Backbenchers is talking Republicanism with Peter Dunne, Charles Chauvel and John Hayes tomorrow night. I have been invited on the show to give the citizen's perspective on a Kiwi Head of State. The show goes out live after 9pm on TVNZ7. I'll be in the bar from 7:30pm if you're curious about what it's all about, armed with a copy of the new Hitchikers Guide to the NZ Republic. Don't be shy.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Governor's Counsel
The latest newsletter from the NZ Republican Movement is out, criticising the return of the title Queen's Counsel as a retrograde step. As a Republican and a supporter of the title of QC, how do I reconcile these seemingly contradictory stances? Easy. Not enough mana.
I was fortunate enough to bear witness to the ascension of Mike Bungay to Queen's Counsel in 1986, celebrating at La Normandie restaurant in Cuba Mall with Dad, Rhonda and Bungay QC. It was all my sixteenth birthday wasn't, right down to a howling drunken rendition of Blue Moon in the taxi home with the old man (La Normandie isn't there any more. The Matterhorn exists in the same spot).
The way I understood it, Queen's Counsel was a venerable title indeed. Apropos to nothing, I took Queen's Counsel to mean that the learned member was fit enough to represent the monarch in court, if ever the need arose. The old man, an imperialist right down to his Churchillian roots, sought recognition as QC to his dying breath. Hard earned, the title proved elusive to Trev due to politics. But there was no doubt, if the Queen ever got into mischief with the courts, the old man could have got her off the hook.
So when Helen Clark's Fifth Labour Government ripped its moorings and replaced Queen's Counsel with the new title of Senior Counsel, no wonder the lawyers were upset. It was just the same with the Dames and Knights, reduced to the lame emptiness of Principal and Distinguished Companions in similarly bland fashion.
The titles lacked context and dignity and, in the case of Senior Counsel, sounded more like they were fit only to be hired by old retired wealthy people, hardly an auspicious moniker, regardless of how much truth it belayed.
If only the taxonomy gave similar stature in some form. Hence the title Governor's Counsel. The solution to the QC quagmire also illuminates the answer to the Head of State debate for NZ. We don't seek a president, we seek a Governor, a Kawana.
I was fortunate enough to bear witness to the ascension of Mike Bungay to Queen's Counsel in 1986, celebrating at La Normandie restaurant in Cuba Mall with Dad, Rhonda and Bungay QC. It was all my sixteenth birthday wasn't, right down to a howling drunken rendition of Blue Moon in the taxi home with the old man (La Normandie isn't there any more. The Matterhorn exists in the same spot).
The way I understood it, Queen's Counsel was a venerable title indeed. Apropos to nothing, I took Queen's Counsel to mean that the learned member was fit enough to represent the monarch in court, if ever the need arose. The old man, an imperialist right down to his Churchillian roots, sought recognition as QC to his dying breath. Hard earned, the title proved elusive to Trev due to politics. But there was no doubt, if the Queen ever got into mischief with the courts, the old man could have got her off the hook.
So when Helen Clark's Fifth Labour Government ripped its moorings and replaced Queen's Counsel with the new title of Senior Counsel, no wonder the lawyers were upset. It was just the same with the Dames and Knights, reduced to the lame emptiness of Principal and Distinguished Companions in similarly bland fashion.
The titles lacked context and dignity and, in the case of Senior Counsel, sounded more like they were fit only to be hired by old retired wealthy people, hardly an auspicious moniker, regardless of how much truth it belayed.
If only the taxonomy gave similar stature in some form. Hence the title Governor's Counsel. The solution to the QC quagmire also illuminates the answer to the Head of State debate for NZ. We don't seek a president, we seek a Governor, a Kawana.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Happy Three-weeks-til-Solstice holiday!
Today's national day off recognises that Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, is only 21 days away. In less than a month, the days will start getting longer. Hooray for Three-weeks-til-Solstice holiday! I must admit, Matariki might roll off the tongue better...
Oh, and Happy Unbirthday Freddie Mercury:
Oh, and Happy Unbirthday Freddie Mercury:
Thursday, July 31, 2008
First Among Equals
The ten candidates for the position of President of New Zealand have been announced. Chosen by you, the people:
The great kiwi archetype runs through all nominees. Am looking forward to the next round of voting. I nominated Jeremy Wells, so it will be interesting to read the candidate profiles before the next vote.
- James Belich
- Jim Bolger
- Sir Douglas Graham
- Sir Robert Jones
- Sir Kenneth Keith
- Don McKinnon
- Claudia Orange
- Vincent O'Sullivan
- Dame Kiri Te Kanawa
- Sir Wilson Whineray
The great kiwi archetype runs through all nominees. Am looking forward to the next round of voting. I nominated Jeremy Wells, so it will be interesting to read the candidate profiles before the next vote.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Panda, the Bananas, and We the People
The Panda has returned to take another swipe at Labour's House of Bamboo, this time on the risks of ad-hoc banana republicanism. A nibble at the Privy Council thing here, a munch on the bending of conventions there, a caustic piss over MMP in the corner. All of a sudden, the MSM and the Republican Movement are taking this meander as support for becoming a republic. Strange, that.
As Mike Moore points out in this bFM interview, he believes his thoughts have been misconstrued. All he meant to point out was the importance of process on any constitutional change. The implied thrust of his opinion piece was a dig at the Clark administration, not a rallying call to ditch the Queen tomorrow. In the media scrum however, any news is good news, especially on a topic as esoteric as republicanism.
The Ozzies are forming a cross-party consensus on becoming a republic, sez Mike. Inevitably, this will spur the limited imaginations of the New Zealand populace into raising the issue here. The Panda fears that a hatchet job of republicanism will leave the country worse off than the current way of things. A process should be put in place to deal with the matter when the public get around to it, lest some populist twit buggers up the thing completely.
One can have some sympathy for this concern. Witness the outpouring of emotion from Sir Ed's passing, with suggestions of public holidays, mountains and flavours of ice cream being named in his honour. Thing is, all it takes is a simple majority in Parliament or a nod from some quango, and wha-hey, it is. No disrespect intended to Sir Ed. I met the man only once, serving him at the James Cook Hotel a while back. Sir Ed is too big for words (which is more than one could say about the tetchy Dame Kiri). But if one needed an example of the epitome of what a New Zealander could be, then you could do worse than point to Sir Ed.
DPF's post on the lack of royalty attending His Most Beloved member of the commonwealth, Knight of the Garter Sir Ed's funeral has stirred the pot somewhat. I whole-heartedly agree with DPF on this, and it's not just because we are fellow members of the Republican Movement. Listen to talkback, get some feedback.
It seems most Kiwis had a similar idea of what Sir Ed's funeral would look like in their heads, well before the inevitable came to be. He deserved the best, full honours of a state funeral, the works. This is the man on the $5 note for god sakes. It's a fair expectation for the titular head of state on the other side of the scrip should follow the script. If you want to go with convention, a head of state always goes to a state funeral.
But conventions count for naught these days. All power, no responsibility; the role of the eunuch brought to modern times. Which describes exactly the role of Governor-General these days. In the Court of the Crimson Queen, everything is red, right down to the Government House staffers.
Convention has not prevented the Foreign Minister sitting outside cabinet, in essence reporting to Helen Clark only and not the government caucus. It has not prevented the Green party getting ministerial funding without even being part of government. Convention has not stopped the election rules being rigged.
In spite of efforts to constrain the powers of government with MMP, it is obvious that unbridled power is still in effect. The Supreme Court push was the right thing done the wrong way. Lucky for us, Dame Sian has shown sufficient judicial activism to demonstrate a greater check on government than the Privy Council. The jury's still out on whether the Supreme Court will pick up the Bill of Rights ball and do something interesting.
For some, it might be the Anti-Ear Flicking Law that brought things to a head. Others might have seen a line in the sand crossed by the manner and form of how the Electoral Finance Act was enacted (They had so much potential and Labour squandered it. A bit like the economy, really). For me, it was a combination of the New Jew Smoking Laws and the Tuhoi Terrorist surveillance.
I succinctly remember watching that Monday night's news showing the dawn raid on the Abel Smith St house and feeling nervous. They were arresting people willy-nilly. I am involved in a number of causes that might be of interest to the powers that be; Republican Movement, NORML, incendiary blogging, to name a few. Although I'm armed with nothing more than 26 letters and about a dozen punctuation marks, it doesn't mean the powers that be understand that. There was a knock at my door. On TV, cops were busting windows. "That'll be the cops," I thought. I was genuinely spooked when I went to the door. Collecting for Plunket, thank Dagg. No! Go away!
It shouldn't get to this, but it has. Reading the level of state surveillance Tame Iti's Flightless Circus was put under, I have been nagged by the thought of writing to Helen Clark. In her capacity as Minister responsible for the SIS, GCSB and other matters pertaining to civil surveillance, I wanted to ask for some reassurance that my life and habits weren't being monitored like Tame Iti's was. But would the reply be worth a damn?
Throw your mind back to Mike Moore's original Guerrilla Noun Attack in the Herald, when Moore compared Clark with the Muldoon who read SIS dossiers on his opponents. Save Happy Valley was infiltrated by SOE informants. The Tuhoe terrorists had an informant in their midst. I wouldn't be surprised if even NORML has a government spy in the membership somewhere. Maybe I've been reading Gravity's Rainbow too long, but I call it justifiable paranoia. What's stopping the state surveillance octopus sticking its tentacles where they don't belong?
The proposed Organised Crime Agency is something else we never agreed to sign on to, let alone the Neo-ANZUS biometric database from the Land of the Free and Home of the Paranoid. In no time at all, New Zealand will darken under the same security blanket foisted on the UK and US citizenship. If the loss of privacy and personal details is a small price to pay to protect the UK from Islamic Daleks, that's their choice. But since Islamic Daleks do not fucking exist, I strongly resent the unjustifiable intrusions into what is none of the New Zealand government's (or some foreign government's) business.
This is all getting too intense. Time for Spike Milligan as a Pakistani Dalek:
Ah, that's better.
Moore is correct in saying that a constitution is a limit on government, not a treatise of wish-fulfillment. It is not wish-fulfilment to want to keep the right to silence, the presumption of innocence until proven guilty. Yet it hasn't prevented the Criminal Proceeds Bill from wending its way through select committee, promising to not only penalise people on balance of probabilities, but make the police a fully-autonomous profit-making revenue stream. It hasn't stopped a retiring QC from describing the right to silence as outdated and should be abolished:
"I did not subscribe to the divine right of silence. Those rules were promulgated years ago in Great Britain when the public were uneducated, most of them illiterate."
These days, of course, we have no uneducated, illiterate people. Everyone is a legal expert.
So, a written constitution is the rights and responsibilities of the structure of government. The closest New Zealand has to such a thing is the Treaty of Waitangi and the Constitution Act 1986. The former was drawn up in a matter of days, a half-arsed ambiguously worded document. The latter outlines the very bare essentials of government. Elections every three years, etc. The Bill of Rights Act 1990 has so far been demonstrated as nothing more than a doormat for the government of the day to wipe its feet on.
I am a Republican because I believe that this country can do better than that. I believe that the citizens of this place shouldn't have to continually battle the state to maintain basic freedoms, freedoms that only require a simple majority in parliament to remove.
I believe in the ultimate supremacy of the people, not the allegedly greater glory of the Prime Minister. I believe in a clear enunciation of how executive government works, seeing as how MMP has smudged the margins of the Westminster system beyond recognition. Coalition-keeping has shifted the power from the caucus to the cabbalists. I believe that the role of Prime Minister needs greater checks and balances beyond the scope of the party caucus.
I believe that the state should only interfere in our personal lives if they have a list of bloody good reasons, not just paranoia, hunches, and latest research findings in the Women's Weekly. If someone ends up before the courts, justice should be swift, fair and open.
And I believe in a head of state that goes to the funeral of New Zealand's favourite son.
As Mike Moore points out in this bFM interview, he believes his thoughts have been misconstrued. All he meant to point out was the importance of process on any constitutional change. The implied thrust of his opinion piece was a dig at the Clark administration, not a rallying call to ditch the Queen tomorrow. In the media scrum however, any news is good news, especially on a topic as esoteric as republicanism.
The Ozzies are forming a cross-party consensus on becoming a republic, sez Mike. Inevitably, this will spur the limited imaginations of the New Zealand populace into raising the issue here. The Panda fears that a hatchet job of republicanism will leave the country worse off than the current way of things. A process should be put in place to deal with the matter when the public get around to it, lest some populist twit buggers up the thing completely.
One can have some sympathy for this concern. Witness the outpouring of emotion from Sir Ed's passing, with suggestions of public holidays, mountains and flavours of ice cream being named in his honour. Thing is, all it takes is a simple majority in Parliament or a nod from some quango, and wha-hey, it is. No disrespect intended to Sir Ed. I met the man only once, serving him at the James Cook Hotel a while back. Sir Ed is too big for words (which is more than one could say about the tetchy Dame Kiri). But if one needed an example of the epitome of what a New Zealander could be, then you could do worse than point to Sir Ed.
DPF's post on the lack of royalty attending His Most Beloved member of the commonwealth, Knight of the Garter Sir Ed's funeral has stirred the pot somewhat. I whole-heartedly agree with DPF on this, and it's not just because we are fellow members of the Republican Movement. Listen to talkback, get some feedback.
It seems most Kiwis had a similar idea of what Sir Ed's funeral would look like in their heads, well before the inevitable came to be. He deserved the best, full honours of a state funeral, the works. This is the man on the $5 note for god sakes. It's a fair expectation for the titular head of state on the other side of the scrip should follow the script. If you want to go with convention, a head of state always goes to a state funeral.
But conventions count for naught these days. All power, no responsibility; the role of the eunuch brought to modern times. Which describes exactly the role of Governor-General these days. In the Court of the Crimson Queen, everything is red, right down to the Government House staffers.
Convention has not prevented the Foreign Minister sitting outside cabinet, in essence reporting to Helen Clark only and not the government caucus. It has not prevented the Green party getting ministerial funding without even being part of government. Convention has not stopped the election rules being rigged.
In spite of efforts to constrain the powers of government with MMP, it is obvious that unbridled power is still in effect. The Supreme Court push was the right thing done the wrong way. Lucky for us, Dame Sian has shown sufficient judicial activism to demonstrate a greater check on government than the Privy Council. The jury's still out on whether the Supreme Court will pick up the Bill of Rights ball and do something interesting.
For some, it might be the Anti-Ear Flicking Law that brought things to a head. Others might have seen a line in the sand crossed by the manner and form of how the Electoral Finance Act was enacted (They had so much potential and Labour squandered it. A bit like the economy, really). For me, it was a combination of the New Jew Smoking Laws and the Tuhoi Terrorist surveillance.
I succinctly remember watching that Monday night's news showing the dawn raid on the Abel Smith St house and feeling nervous. They were arresting people willy-nilly. I am involved in a number of causes that might be of interest to the powers that be; Republican Movement, NORML, incendiary blogging, to name a few. Although I'm armed with nothing more than 26 letters and about a dozen punctuation marks, it doesn't mean the powers that be understand that. There was a knock at my door. On TV, cops were busting windows. "That'll be the cops," I thought. I was genuinely spooked when I went to the door. Collecting for Plunket, thank Dagg. No! Go away!
It shouldn't get to this, but it has. Reading the level of state surveillance Tame Iti's Flightless Circus was put under, I have been nagged by the thought of writing to Helen Clark. In her capacity as Minister responsible for the SIS, GCSB and other matters pertaining to civil surveillance, I wanted to ask for some reassurance that my life and habits weren't being monitored like Tame Iti's was. But would the reply be worth a damn?
Throw your mind back to Mike Moore's original Guerrilla Noun Attack in the Herald, when Moore compared Clark with the Muldoon who read SIS dossiers on his opponents. Save Happy Valley was infiltrated by SOE informants. The Tuhoe terrorists had an informant in their midst. I wouldn't be surprised if even NORML has a government spy in the membership somewhere. Maybe I've been reading Gravity's Rainbow too long, but I call it justifiable paranoia. What's stopping the state surveillance octopus sticking its tentacles where they don't belong?
The proposed Organised Crime Agency is something else we never agreed to sign on to, let alone the Neo-ANZUS biometric database from the Land of the Free and Home of the Paranoid. In no time at all, New Zealand will darken under the same security blanket foisted on the UK and US citizenship. If the loss of privacy and personal details is a small price to pay to protect the UK from Islamic Daleks, that's their choice. But since Islamic Daleks do not fucking exist, I strongly resent the unjustifiable intrusions into what is none of the New Zealand government's (or some foreign government's) business.
This is all getting too intense. Time for Spike Milligan as a Pakistani Dalek:
Ah, that's better.
Moore is correct in saying that a constitution is a limit on government, not a treatise of wish-fulfillment. It is not wish-fulfilment to want to keep the right to silence, the presumption of innocence until proven guilty. Yet it hasn't prevented the Criminal Proceeds Bill from wending its way through select committee, promising to not only penalise people on balance of probabilities, but make the police a fully-autonomous profit-making revenue stream. It hasn't stopped a retiring QC from describing the right to silence as outdated and should be abolished:
"I did not subscribe to the divine right of silence. Those rules were promulgated years ago in Great Britain when the public were uneducated, most of them illiterate."
These days, of course, we have no uneducated, illiterate people. Everyone is a legal expert.
So, a written constitution is the rights and responsibilities of the structure of government. The closest New Zealand has to such a thing is the Treaty of Waitangi and the Constitution Act 1986. The former was drawn up in a matter of days, a half-arsed ambiguously worded document. The latter outlines the very bare essentials of government. Elections every three years, etc. The Bill of Rights Act 1990 has so far been demonstrated as nothing more than a doormat for the government of the day to wipe its feet on.
I am a Republican because I believe that this country can do better than that. I believe that the citizens of this place shouldn't have to continually battle the state to maintain basic freedoms, freedoms that only require a simple majority in parliament to remove.
I believe in the ultimate supremacy of the people, not the allegedly greater glory of the Prime Minister. I believe in a clear enunciation of how executive government works, seeing as how MMP has smudged the margins of the Westminster system beyond recognition. Coalition-keeping has shifted the power from the caucus to the cabbalists. I believe that the role of Prime Minister needs greater checks and balances beyond the scope of the party caucus.
I believe that the state should only interfere in our personal lives if they have a list of bloody good reasons, not just paranoia, hunches, and latest research findings in the Women's Weekly. If someone ends up before the courts, justice should be swift, fair and open.
And I believe in a head of state that goes to the funeral of New Zealand's favourite son.
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