Te Radar: Brutal honesty would be just the thing for our Parliament

I hereby vow never to have intimate relations with anyone again. Ever. Unless they ask me. In which case it's only fair. After all, who am I to disappoint? I certainly won't derive any pleasure from the act should it occur. I must simply do my duty in order to form a stable relationship.

With this kind of logic I'm a sure bet for a position on the Government's front benches. Or an interesting time in the back benches. Or technically, as in Winston's case, on the benches beside the Government's front benches.

Parliament's coalition negotiations were reminiscent of a bad suburban swingers party, as couples tried different, equally unsatisfying combinations.

Peters and Dunne, the Ebony and Off-Grey of the parliamentary field, were wooed by all involved.

The Greens evoked the dour couple forced to amuse themselves.

At least our transtasman cobbers in the New South Wales Parliament managed a healthy dose of political honesty when an Opposition MP objected to the Roading Minister and his policies by punching him on the floor of the House. The Taiwanese Parliament chamber recently saw yet another brawl which ended in blood and stitches.

In a marvellous piece of political doublespeak one MP, still bleeding after being whacked with a mobile phone, stated: "I don't want to name the person, but he was the one who attacked me".

Ironically, they were trying to pass what they term "the Peace Bill" at the time.

Even two British MPs sparred in a radio studio, disappointing millions by failing to engage in their altercation in front of any cameras.

We are not without decent bouts of physical feistiness in our various elected chambers.

One of the earliest recorded was that of the first Mayor of Cromwell, Jackson Barry, who was no doubt overjoyed to be elected mayor in 1866. His fellow councillors were not, as he dominated proceedings in a rather Banksian fashion.

So, while he was absent, they voted unanimously to censure him for his despotism.

At the next meeting, the minutes were read, including the motion of censure.

"Who moved this?" bellowed Mayor Barry.

The culprit raised his hand. Barry strode to the council doors, locked them, returned to the courageous councillor, and felled him with a single punch.

Picking up the cowering committeeman, Barry carried him to the window and threw him out, before turning and asking, "Now, who seconded the motion?"

Silence. "Well", said Mayor Barry, "If there was no seconder it renders said motion invalid, and therefore it must be stricken from the minutes."

He then calmly carried on with the meeting.

We can only hope for this kind of brutal honesty to be displayed in chambers today.

In fact, any kind of honesty would be good.

In other news a duck called Daphne, the star of the West End play Ducktastic, was reported stolen.

Thankfully, Daphne has been found safe and well here in New Zealand. Apparently she is performing very credibly in her new role as Integrity Spokesperson for New Zealand First.