Don't think of it as a crisis: more of an opportunity to try the paleo fuel diet.
Airlines have been especially caught off guard, exposing their reliance on the combustion engine. Talk about an addictive crack pipe. In future, expect changes to air-ticket fine-print.
Want preferential seating? Passengers are advised to BYO fuel. Want an upgrade to business? The smart passenger should carry-on seven litres of jet-fuel (in transparent, individual 100ml containers, of course).
As long as it's not your flight cancelled, the typical reaction is to face-palm: please don't let other countries hear about this.
If a digger on a farm can cripple air travel, does New Zealand come across as a rustic shambles? When they say digger, I hope they mean a vehicle with monster-truck tyres, and not a dude with a shovel.
Apparently the pipeline leaked two tanker-loads of jet fuel into the soil, so dairy farmers could point the finger at someone else for a change.
The only way it could seem more shambolic is if a dairy cow had bitten into the pipeline, started drinking, and then really taken its poop game to the next level.
Who knows, this could mark the beginning of a whole new brand of milk and butter: low in fat, but high in octane.
As a crisis, it's mercifully on-brand. Yes, the world hears a news story that's embarrassing to us, but at least it mentions a farm.
The world will picture somewhere green, and more importantly, clean, with the cleanness that only comes after a therapeutic bath in aviation fuel - organic of course - soaking in all its healing antioxidants.
On the tech side, it tells the world New Zealand is highly advanced. The very first line of the story tells the world we have a mechanical digger. And an airport. Also, we have - okay, we had - a fuel pipe to said airport.
So far, so good. It's almost like we're bragging. It's like we're posting Instagrams of our exotic vehicles.
Plus, it tells the world our environment is so pristine, we don't tolerate industrial abominations such as sign-posts with signs, with an ugly picture of a pipeline lurking below.
The final of The Block seems to have been a warning against hard work. Who cares about capital gains tax when a do-up doesn't increase the house's value? It's unclear whether the disappointment of the winners was the result of the housing crisis, or not quite enough housing crisis.
In civic news, I voted. I totally recommend it. You feel important - like a piece of hay pulling its weight in the haystack. It's like giving blood without the biscuit - or buying Powerball without the personal jackpot.
Also, it's multi-choice, and there's no essay section where you have to explain your working-out.
In full disclosure, I voted for the good guys, and not the baddies. In fact, I voted tactically, so both my electorate vote and party vote will count.
Of course, all this depends on the vote being counted. Which doesn't seem assured. Early votes, by the boxful, are getting taken home overnight - for non-ironic safe-keeping - to the houses of volunteers.
Good grief. You don't need Russian hackers to spot a vulnerability in this system. Let's hope it doesn't get cold this week, and the volunteers need kindling.
Voter turn-out seems healthy. Maybe the only way more voters would turn out is if Auckland Airport was made into a polling booth. Talk about a captive audience.
