Meanwhile, Winny's throwing tanties like Kim Dotcom throws parties (i.e. non-stop and very loud) about the $3000 that may or may not have been prudently invested by the purse-string people at Whanau Ora so the 180 members of the Rutene family could "reconnect" with each other.
And if that's not enough, sir, we now seem to be well and truly mired in another daft, dead-end deja vu debate about who owns water. Good news for the lawyers, mayhap, sir, and a nice fillip for the Waitangi Tribunal wallahs too, but for pity's sake, sir, some of us boondocks boofheads are starting to think the whole country's a bit like the Rena, except we've been stuck on these rocks for 40 years and won't be moving any time soon.
But you can change everything, sir. At the drop of a hat. With the stroke of a pen. Here's the plan, sir. See what you think.
What you do, next time you're in Parliament, is you stand up and tell all the MPs and all the people listening on the wireless or watching on the telly that you've got an important announcement. Then you say: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I've decided to quit. Sorry, folks, but I'm not going to borrow $350,000,000 a week any more. It's over. We're on the wagon. You can have any turkey you like as long as it's cold."
You might think that's crazy, sir. You might think it's mad. And it probably is. If you did do it, there would be blood in the streets. There'd be marches and riots and more punch-ups than you get at a Sonny Bill weigh-in. Auckland would be like Athens without the Acropolis, James Cameron would have to buy all of Wellington just to keep it afloat and, worst of all, sir, your poll ratings would almost certainly head south quicker than a Norwegian adventurer.
Not exactly what a politician wants.
Ahhhh, but think, sir, think!
Pause for a moment and think of the cathartic effect such a move would have. Imagine how it would instantly focus the minds of all those wittering, twittering, nit-picking, pettifogging, micro-moaners now strutting centre-stage and generally putting us off our pudding.
They do it because they can, sir. Because they're like us. (And we're like them). Hunky dory, she'll be right, no worries. All of us living in a Feather-Feather land of borrowed prosperity. No wonder we sweat the small stuff. No wonder we moan about chimneys and reunions and who owns the water.
You can do that in a fool's paradise, sir. It's a luxury we think we can afford. And we can afford it, sir, as things stand. We can afford to play trivial disputes. Heck, you're giving us 350,000,000 reasons every week to pretend they're the only game in town.
Not that we're hooked, mind. Heavens no, we can give up any time, sir. Say the word and we'll knuckle down, suck it up, pull our fingers out and get stuck in, sir.
So do it. Pull the plug. Cut up the nation's credit card. Tighten our belts. And be quick about it, sir. Do it now. Please. This can't wait. Give us something big to argue about, something that really matters, a thing we'll have to tackle sooner or later, anyway. If you don't, we'll just get more of what we've had this week - small beer squabbles and petty patch protection. And that's more than a man can stand!
Yrs sincerely,
Dipton Dan.
