7.12am
Awake, and thinking about subscriptions.
I have been a lifelong admirer of the Royal Great New Zealand Herald even before I learned that it was set up by an Auckland corporate buccaneer to endorse, support, and cheer for the Waikato invasion. For many years I paid to have a copy put in my letterbox each morning.
I would dearly love to go on being such a subscriber.
I would be able to go on marvelling to the sparkling corporate and political insight of Steven Joyce, thrill to the words of the corporate boardroom copied down and typed up so lovingly and fastidiously by Fran OâSullivan, and of course I can never get too much of that loveable scamp Mike Hosking.
I love that way he can take a vague half-chewed bit of thought and turn it into a litany of solipsism, faux ennui and arriviste angst.
Five minutes after, you can't recall a blind bit of it. But you do know he was fully putting the boot into the woke brigade and thatâs all you want, to feel the dayâs on the right track.
But I feel I must deny myself these wonderful solitary pleasures. I must. Because if I were to go on handing over this money, it would mean I would be lending support to the tendentious Trotskyism of Simon Wilson.
Comrade Wilson would have us all on bicycles and whistling the Internationale given half a chance and no thank you very much to that.
Our grandfathers didnât go to the Somme to be pointlessly senselessly needlessly slaughtered just so some lefty journo could write disrespectful, disgraceful diatribes upbraiding the concerned business citizens of the God Save The Queen Street Committee.
So the Herald will have to go on without me, Iâm afraid.
7.13am
But good news! I have a very special treat for us all this morning. Usually this newsletter turns for guidance to Uncle Dave, whose advice column offers solutions to lifeâs problems great and small using some combination of CRC, duct tape and hard liquor.
But Uncle Dave is lying on his sick bed and loudly moaning.
So the newsletter turns its lonely eyes to Mr Fixit, the Rt Hon Whatever Steven Joyce. The newsletter wonders: what would Mr Fixit do?
Wonder no more! It turns out that all you have to do is flick him an email and ask.
He says he doesnât start writing his Herald column until ten minutes before they need it, and tbh, apart from the veggie garden heâs not all that busy these days, just waiting for Sunday to roll around and a new episode of Country Calendar.
So ask away!
7.45am
Dear Mr Fixit Rt Hon Whatever Steven Novopay Joyce,
I found some moths in my rice bin. What do I do now?
Suzanne Luminous-Spheres
Hi Suzanne
Take the bin outside and open the lid. Let the moth out. If it comes back to you, itâs yours forever. If it doesn't then it was never meant to be.
Steve
8.10am
Dear Mr Fixit Rt Hon Whatever Steven Novopay Joyce,
I have eight economics papers to hand in by Friday. How can I get them done in time?
Incel in an ACT T-Shirt
Hey T-Shirt! Just quit! Start a radio station! Youâll learn way more about making money, and you might even get to turn broadcasting into a sausage machine and ruin journalism!
Steve
8.19am
Dear Mr Fixit Rt Hon Whatever Steven Novopay Joyce,
I just bought a Dyson and itâs supposed to change my life but I still feel like life has no meaning when I read the Herald. What am I doing wrong?
Marcel Spruced
Gidday Marcel
When I was still a bit green I got a job as a farm hand. The first morning the boss said: you see that macrocarpa at the bottom of the paddock, go down there and cut it down. Here's the new chainsaw, it's a beauty. You'll have it down in no time.
Well, I went down there and I got stuck in and sawed and sawed and sawed and sawed but come lunch time Iâd hardly made any headway. The boss turns up and says whatâs the story, whatâs taking so long?
I told him, I don't think this saw is all that good. I think they might have sold you a dud.
He says, give us a look and I hand it over. He grabs the cord and pulls it.
Bloody hell, I say to him, whyâs it making all that noise all of a sudden?
Well once he got sawing I realised two things:
- There's more to life than hard work
- Whenever someone gives you a flash bit of machinery, if you don't want to look like an idiot, check to see if there's a cord that has to be pulled. Also take a quick shoofty to make sure it doesnât have Novopay written on it anywhere.
Steve
8.45am
Dear Mr Fixit Rt Hon Whatever Steven Novopay Joyce,
I'm a Transport minister in a country with badly neglected infrastructure and a fucked housing market and we've just found out that a huge motorway project we inherited was completely dreaming about the cost, and they tried to do public private partnerships in a way that would never work, and it was more or less doomed to fail from the start. What kind of government does that?
Michael
Gidday Michael
I would say it would have to be a socialistic government that can't tell the difference between its arse and a 12 billion dollar hole in the ground.
That's the problem you get when you have governments with no business experience and who don't understand that the best thing you can do is ask: how do we put our mates from the private sector in here, they're the geniuses.
Steve
Thanks Steven, trouble is, we inherited it from a government that leg-humped the private sector almost to death and the thing is about four times what it was supposed to cost. Is there anything we can do to fix it?
Michael
Gidday Michael
It might be a good idea to drive down to the construction site, take a walk around and quietly ask anyone with a big bit of machinery if they've checked to see if it has a cord you have to pull.
Steve
9.15am
Just thinking that if I still worked for Stuff, this would have to go next.
10.14am
A sharp eyed denizen of Lambton Quay shares this photo with me of a cosy window display at Peter Alexander
We discuss it without reaching a sure conclusion: is this a carefully constructed and artful denunciation beneath the heel, or just a grab from a bookshelf that puts poor blameless Keith Quinn in reprehensible company?
11.34am
Yes, yes, yes, you wrote back as one last night, readers: cats are not to be trifled with.
Renee Lang - hi Renee! - reports
I have to tell you that one vet, two vet nurses and me were no match for Leonard, my singular black and white cat, when it came to administering his worm tablet. Leonard now has a warning on his file in case some unsuspecting vet who hasnât yet met him attempts to medicate him without full PEP gear.
And Scott Dunavan - hi Scott! - asked:
You mean, like this?
Yes, for sure like that. Holy hell.
Cats, man. You love them, but they are not to be trusted, not really, not ever.
12.14pm
Still thinking of the right name for this segment. Working title is Todayâs Dopiest Bridge Question, and today the beacon of reason in the farrago is MTAF reader Terry Baucher - hi Terry!
Ever heard of e-bikes Ken? We're now importing over 67,000 a year. That's almost as many as new cars. The future is here
â Terry Baucher (@Trabaq) 7:33 PM â Apr 19, 2021
Honestly. Iâve been over that bridge on foot and it was easy. An ordinary bike would be a piece of piss. And I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT WAIT to glide up there from Devonport on my e-bike and roll into Ponsonby and Victoria Park and onward to points in every goddam direction and enjoy it vastly more than I ever will in a car.
And Ken, we are legion, us e-bike nutters, and growing as fast as the suppliers can keep up.
12.35pm
One more from the green file because thatâs where the future is and fuck I canât wait to get there. Hereâs something theyâve been growing and building in Taipeh: a vertical forest.
1.20pm
Time to see the specialist, which means drink a vast amount of liquid once more, and then let the machine measure whatâs what.
Let me tell you whatâs what: ITâS ALL FABULOUS.
The surgeon smiles, shows me the readout, says, and these are his literal words: off the charts.
This is a good thing, he says: your flow is six times what it was before the procedure.
He says: the results show you werenât bleeding much while you were in hospital, it looks normal and good.
He says: Iâd like you to start walking, maybe running, gently could be in two weeksâ time.
He says: the pathology is all good, it shows no cancer whatsoever. Youâre all clear.
I donât really need to add anything do I? I could not feel any better than I do right now.
Today Iâm thankful and Iâm also thinking about all the people who are still waiting. I hope a good day is coming for you very soon.
2.10pm
At the front door when we get back is a huge box of limes from reader Lynette - hi and thanks so much Lynette!
This is the same front door where reader Lyndsay - hi and thanks so much Lyndsay! - left a wonderful care package on Friday of chicken soup, hibiscus flower, magazines and whatnot. Honestly, it has been so thoughtful, what so many of you have done and said. Thank you, all.
Best of all, thanks to Ruth - hi Ruth! - who always the knack for catching the mood with perfect pitch.
4.20pm
Have we done this one already? Donât care. A complete asshole, but the dudeâs a genius.
