"Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully."
Samuel Johnson's pithily expressed observation has become part of the consciousness of the commons -- perhaps not surprisingly given its ineluctable truth.
Our election is a bit more than a fortnight away, but the pending event is having much the same effect on parliamentarians' minds. The prospect of the trapdoor dropping out from under the feet to induce a spot of compulsory air dancing doesn't seem too popular. Minds focus quick-sharp.
But New Zealand First leader Winston Peters may give the lie to this particular pearl.
In his determination to make good in what in all likelihood is his last realistic tilt at the windmills of power, after a lifetime on the fags he's apparently kicked the gaspers cold turkey.
Why? He wants to be fighting fit for what could well prove to be a triumphant Grand Finale. And the prospect of a hanging has concentrated his mind wonderfully.
For Mr Peters, though, it's a hanging with a difference. In his version, it's Winnie himself who is the hangman. And, in his particular brand of gallows humour, ideally he gets the last laugh with a well hung parliament.
Well hung, but also hanging in the balance, with the various parties as the string puppets, and -- to mix metaphors a little -- with Winston as the gleefully guffawing Machiavellian marionettist.
Of course, what the fickle electorate delivers on September 23 is anyone's guess. And, if recent trends continue, it will sadly be an apathetic electorate, too.
Frank Greenall
Some will consciously decline to participate for valid reasons. Tragically, though, the non-votes of the couldn't-care-less will play a significant role in determining our next government. Regardless, all indications are that the final shakedown will be at Winston's behest.
In a democracy, the electorate -- like the customer -- is always right, and the chips will fall where they may. Happily, though, election day's potent imminence has washed over all parties like a beneficent liquid fertiliser, propagating new policy like wildflowers after desert rain.
National seems to have forgotten that it's already had nine years in office in which it could have implemented all manner of sensible initiatives -- even for such luxury items as clean water and roofs over people's heads. But in the last few months it's suddenly had a rush of blood to its collective head and is gushing new policy like the Pohutu geyser on steroids.
Labour, too, is playing one-armed paperhanger trying to cobble up a manifesto cornucopia bristling with all manner of tempting treats for everyone.
The Greens are hoping to be marching in the victory parade in their best jute suits as well, so naturally they're also hyper-ventilating policy and the odd mea culpa -- although the prospect of dealing with Winston post-election is causing a few to choke on their sprouts.
And Act, the Maori Party, United Future et al are just hoping to not end up doing the political equivalent of aerial hip-hop with a tight hemp collar.
Whatever the result, it's salutary to recall that the last time any political party won with an actual majority -- more than 50 per cent of the vote -- was 66 years ago.
An average is not a median, but it's a reasonable assumption that roughly 49.99 per cent of all Kiwis are, by definition, of less than average intelligence. It's sobering, then, to realise that for the last 21 elections, all our various MPs may have been chosen entirely by constituents of below average intelligence. This could explain quite a lot ...
