Te Radar: A vanload of direct political inducement

It will come as no surprise to me if in the next few weeks I open my front door to reveal political party lackeys waiting to offer me the philanthropic services of any one of a vanload of Physical Gratificationists (or prostitutes, as they are more commonly known), in return for my vote.

I have no idea if this kind of direct inducement is illegal. It certainly seems more honest than many of the other political enticements on offer.

It is certainly more straightforward and cheaper, as the one-off cost is less than the promised tax and welfare packages.

Naturally some of the various parties' promised incentives come with some rather unpleasant strings. The worst of these is the notion that those wishing to receive their rightful entitlements must fill out forms.

The concept of filling out incessant forms for what is ostensibly your rightful allowance is a bureaucratic and unholy Machiavellian dodge.

Those who make the promises know that their lavishness will not cost nearly as much as predicted because of the public's disdain for filling out forms.

Like many, I struggle with the simplest of the many onerous tasks imposed on us by the state, such as registering my car. Indeed, I can barely remember to check my weekly super scheme, or Lotto, as it is colloquially known.

This does not mean other parties' plans are any better.

What the Free Marketeers fail to realise is that people will grumble about being too highly taxed regardless of what level taxation is set at.

However, we are more perturbed by their options, which include lowering tax and forcing us to fritter away our precious lives making our own decisions about such banal matters as health-care providers and workplace insurance.

They are simply replacing the yoke of taxation by subjugating us to the tyranny of choice.

Still, the one agreeable thing about the election campaign, and in particular the party political broadcasts, is that it has certainly negated the perception that we fail to make convincing political satire in this nation.

These state-funded broadcasts make fine viewing, serving to alert us to some of our smaller parties.

The smallest party, the 99 MP Party (whose manifesto is rather eloquently explained in their nom de guerre), has only two candidates on its party list. I assume they realised that if they had only one name, it wouldn't be a list. It would simply be someone's name.

On a positive note, I was finally rung and asked if I would like to be part of a TV telephone poll. "Absolutely!" I said.

The pollster's minion asked all of the standard questions: who I would vote for, and what I think of certain politically hot topics. Then, rather oddly I thought, they surveyed my knowledge and opinions on automatic garage-door openers.

I was shocked, and replied that I hadn't realised that they were an election promise too.

Such largesse may encourage me to enrol.

* radarswebsite.com/