Tuesday morning
The media loves a bit of scuttlebutt, and if you want a bit of scuttlebut drenched in catnip, well, step right this way.
The issue of Christopher Luxon's leadership, which was put to bed once and for all after Chris Bishop's first go at a spill and which was put to bed once and for all after Chris Bishop's second go at a spill is looking like it's up and out of bed once more and saying I can't sleep Mummy I’m having nightmares about the election.
The radio and tv and social media are full of it. Is it possible that this man who has only been opening his mouth to change feet and then take them out again to shoot more holes in them could be in some kind of trouble?
Who can say, but the jungle drums do seem to be beating, and if you can speak jungle drum, you may be picking up the beat of who the fuck blurts out something like that about MMP without consulting us and who the fuck talks that sort of shit to actual business people when he's not even a real one?
Also, OMG, have you looked at these numbers? Do you realise that at this rate half of us will lose our seats?
Tuesday afternoon
And so the great man himself clears his throat and declares on Ex-Twitter, which just as an aside bloody offends me as a decent human being, what bloody business does any politician have remaining on that cesspit of supremacist thuggery? Sorry where was I? Oh yes great man clearing his throat.
He has had all the talking points typed out for him in a coherent fashion, so it doesn't quite sound like his voice when he says that he's very concerned about the fate of the country and the election. He doesn’t go on to say what he's thinking about the possibility that Nicola or Erica or old mate Chris might be running the numbers on him or what that oily snake Penk might be up too. But the media is taking heady hits of catnip so we're all good for filling in the blanks.
Tuesday evening
Various Nats fly into Wellington as speculation froths.
What might become of poor Old Mate Grabaseat? General consensus among friends and chat companions is: If they’re shit at everything else they do they’ll probably be shit at this too.
We go to a nice anniversary event at The Pumphouse to mark the 50th anniversary of Glide Time's 1976 opening at Circa Theatre. Good old Roger Hall has funny and entertaining reminiscences and reflections on a play that inarguably changed the way we look and laugh at ourselves. Many people have many nice things to say, including our deputy mayor; although at points you find yourself needing to jam your fist into your mouth and bite down a bit. Good as she has been in her job, it's a useful reminder that our politicians are not necessarily our most dazzling lights.
Wednesday morning
Daylight arrives and John Campbell is on the radio saying Oh My Giddy Aunt , which is a polite way of saying: if they’re shit at everything else they do, it sort of follows they’ll be shit at this too
How galling it must be for a CEO to keep having to do an interview for a job he's already got. But how inevitable it also feels when he repeatedly fails to come up to the bare minimum of the job's requirements: perpetually regurgitating half-chewed talking points mangled out of all recognition; serially blurting undertakings like an MMP vote simply because his inner salesman is incapable of suppressing the need to make a friend of a prospect.
The man has given as much of a jolt to the nation as the Hillman Hunter gave to motoring.
9.30 am
In they go to mull the appointment of turnaround expert Chris Luxon to fix the clusterfuck left by turnaround expert Chris Luxon.
We wait now for the white smoke, happy enough to see them taking a break from wrecking our country to concentrate just on wrecking themselves.
9.49 am
Glen McConnell writes: National party has put up banners in hallways around Parliament to block the view of the caucus room corridors,a dn the speaker has put up a big white sheet.
Like when a horse breaks its leg at the races.
11.45am
Luxon enters third hour of explaining what the fuck go out there and smack it and go create the road means
12.20pm
Eventually word comes down that the PM will be giving a press conference in the banquet hall.
Eventually down he comes, flanked by all his putative enemies and the party president and he reads out all the right words in the right order explaining that he won the vote and he's pretending it's all about the country getting to make the right choice and vote for three more years of this shit. And having delivered this with as much gravitas as a Dyson with something blocking the suction, he then turns on his heel pretending he needs to get on with saving the country. He has no time for silly questions, no time for acting or looking like a leader in control. I've seen dogs run away less quickly from their own farts.
4.45pm
The following is a list of all the simmering issues addressed comprehensively by the three hour discussion in today's caucus
Who is the current leader?
This concludes the list of all the simmering issues addressed comprehensively by the three hour discussion in today's caucus.
Best outcome, really, no change.
See you next Tuesday, then, Prime Minister.
