Why is no one investigating Brian Tamaki’s hygiene items? Did no one else notice Chris Hipkins’ funereal suit ruse? James Elliott asks the week’s tough questions.
It takes the average spider about an hour to spin a replacement web. This explains why the exercycle you dewebbed late on the afternoon of the first of January, having dewebbed yourself from the bacchanalian effects of New Year’s Eve, is now back to looking like a creepy prop from a Wes Craven movie.
New Year’s resolutions are the Todd Muller National Party leadership of resolutions – fleeting. The only New Year’s resolution I’ve ever been able to make stick was the resolution I made at the start of the millennium not to make any more New Year’s resolutions.
That said I nearly broke my streak this year thanks to Brian Tamaki. In case you missed this news item, and I sincerely hope you did, on January 17 Brian Tamaki was remanded in custody for yet another alleged breach of the Covid-19 Public Health Response Act 2020 – in other words he was locked up for not being locked down.
Omicron is here, together with its various misspelled and mispronounced variants, of which Omnicron is probably the most apt given that we’re all likely to get it.
Protests by his supporters ensued including a barricade of Mt Eden prison when Brian was apparently denied access to what were described in various news reports as “hygiene items”. What hygiene items? I had to know. I resolved to find out, a New Year’s resolution of sorts. In a unique challenge to Google’s search engine algorithm no doubt resulting in a footnote to whatever profile notes Google keeps about me I typed in “Brian Tamaki + hygiene items”. And I did it so that you don’t have to.
Unfortunately my search results were a sad indictment of the state of investigative journalism in this country. No one had followed up to find out exactly which allegedly withheld “hygiene items” had led to an unprecedented level of civil disorder at the gates of New Zealand’s most populous corrections facility.
Moreover, in the absence of verification as to the causative element of this Brian-inspired brouhaha, ill-informed and wild speculation is bound to ensue. My ill-informed and wild speculation is that the “hygiene items” comprised a Sephora ‘War Paint For Men’ eyebrow filler pencil, Christophe Robin Cleansing Volumising Paste with Rassoul Clay and Rose Extracts for especially oily hair, and “Apostle” monogrammed Paseo 3-ply long roll toilet paper.
Brian’s since been released from custody and is now under home curfew so we may never know the truth about the pencil, paste and paper. Perhaps the more pertinent question is – what is the difference between Brian’s home curfew and the home curfew the rest of us are back to living under red light, phase one, period two, chapter three, juncture A, step whatever of the Covid Protection Framework? It almost makes you feel nostalgic for alert levels. In any event Omicron is here, together with its various misspelled and mispronounced variants, of which Omnicron is probably the most apt given that we’re all likely to get it.
What is the difference between Brian’s home curfew and the home curfew the rest of us are back to living under red light, phase one, period two, chapter three, juncture A, step whatever of the Covid Protection Framework?
It fell to Chris Hipkins to make the mid-holiday announcement of the Omicron arrival at the most Kiwi of bach and beach-based press conferences. Hipkins was late to the scheduled start because he apparently dashed home to get a suitably funereal suit. I say apparently because I don’t buy that cover story. I reckon it was a double-bluff, making the media wait to think he had gone home to get a suitably funereal suit to cover for the fact he didn’t go home because he always wears a suitably funereal suit, albeit without a tie when he’s on holiday and/or sleeping. Like how John Campbell always wears a jacket and long pants – for all we know he doesn’t have knees. It’s high time someone investigated that.
Suitgate aside, the summer holidays were largely politician-free which makes yesterday’s political polling results all the more curious. What were we supposed to base our preferences on? Chris Luxon’s choice of sunhat? I’m thinking Stetson. A black Stetson. I know that’s probably more on-brand for NZ First but I reckon he could pull it off. Jacinda Ardern didn’t have time to think too much about which poll-boosting sunhat to wear, she was busy with family discipline matters, making a certain someone go and sit on the naughty step. Fiancé Clarke Gayford was rumbled for giving incorrect Covid testing guidance to a pharmacist on behalf of a friend aka nudge wink “a musician mate”. Another naughty misstep like that and he could be both the host and subject of an upcoming episode of ‘Moving Houses’.
As it transpired, the polls showed National up to 32 percent, Labour steadyish at 40 percent, with the high achiever being Chris Luxon, up 13 points to 17 percent as preferred PM. It might be “the Stetson Effect” but is more likely to be National and Luxon clawing blue support back from ACT and David Seymour, aka “the DeActivation Effect”. As Luxon said, “it’ll be game on for 2023” – and it will be, especially if he’s wearing that Stetson.
Have a peaceful weekend.