If parliament proposed a nationwide synchronisation of clocks and watches, then at a given date and time, invited everyone who's had an absolute gutsful of the screaming skull, otherwise known as John Minto, to go outside and jump up and down for two minutes, imagine the reaction.
Schools and workplaces would empty, traffic would halt as drivers vacated their vehicles, planes would stay grounded, surgeons would abandon patients on the operating tables, the disabled would haul themselves from their wheelchairs, lovers would commit coitus interuptus, the dying would climb from their beds and quite conceivably, such would be the intensity of feeling, the dead would rise from their graves, all to jump up and down to send the screaming skull a single message. SHUT UP. They would do so with such fervour they could set off earthquakes but nevertheless, in the process display a unity and common purpose last seen during the Second World War.
"I'll tell you in three words about the extreme left," a judge once said to me. "They hate people." Not long afterwards I saw this assertion literally illustrated with a Minto march down Queen Street on behalf of the then 5 per cent incapable of finding employment, thus living off their fellow citizens but demanding a still greater public sacrifice. One of Minto's mob bore a sign reading: "We Hate You All."
I've often recalled the judge's words and a life-time's observation has repeatedly confirmed their truth, never better illustrated than by the ghastly Minto, his face permanently contorted in rage as trailed by his rag-tag ratbag losers, he bawls his vile megaphoned venom at a seemingly endless series of decent people, usually about matters on distant shores. His latest performance, to the understandable distress of the neighbours, was outside the Prime Minister's home, this over American drones targeting Minto's soul brothers in hatred, namely mindless Muslim murderers. But most despicable in his interminable record of rage against all and sundry was Minto's all-day disruption of that happy annual event, the Auckland women's international tennis tournament, as he screamed hatred into his megaphone; his target, an innocent teenage Israeli lass.
What I don't understand is that Minto writes very well and has often been given New Zealand Herald space to express his anti-everyone views, surely more effective than his infantile public harangues. It's time he grew up.