Te Radar: Cannibalism, or why this brouhaha has been eating me

To preserve a man's tongue in his own fat and then wrap it in a calabash made of his tanned and tattooed buttock skin, in order to consume it at a later date, is a fearsome statement. It says: "Don't mess with me. I know how to pickle things".

It escapes my knowledge which Maori chief inflicted this indignity upon his unfortunate adversary, but I am aware of one of our greatest warrior leaders who dabbled in cannibalism for various reasons, most notably propaganda.

During the Taranaki troubles, Titokawaru, after capturing a young colonial soldier, wrote taunting letters to goad the British. Paraphrased, they said: "Dear British chaps, we had Billy over for dinner last night. He was delicious".

Predictably, this somewhat annoyed the British and caused them to act rather recklessly, much as Titokawaru wished.

Of course, comments by one of our foreign flunkies that included mention of cannibalism caused the usual suspects to become apoplectic with rage. As they stammered their indignation you could almost feel the spittle of their righteous anger splattering onto your face.

Unfortunately, it tends to be these reactions that do more harm than our undiplomatic diplomats, as they then allow the small-minded members of society to fill the airwaves with their ignorant bleating.

I am by no means advocating cannibalism - I leave that kind of activity these days to gay Germans.

One of the beauties of the internet is that if you advertise for a man wishing to be killed and eaten, the chances are you will find one.

In the most intriguingly hilarious legal trial of last year, German Armin Meiwes was convicted of manslaughter after killing and eating another man.

Ironically, that wasn't exactly the order of events as they occurred.

Armin met the victim on an internet chat site for those with a penchant for cannibalism. They then engaged in a little correspondence, including the immortal line from the future man-meal: "There's absolutely no way back for me, only forwards, through your teeth."

Said man-snack, Bernd-Jurgen Brandes, then caught public transport to the house of his new dinner companion.

After removing and flambeing that portion that so symbolised Bernd-Jurgen's manhood, they sat down together to enjoy their meal. Sadly, it seemed that Armin couldn't cook.

After a few tentative mouthfuls, both agreed that flambeing wasn't the best way of preparing the dish, and returned the man-morsel to the frypan to finish it off.

Once they had finished it off, Armin then finished off Bernd-Jurgen.

The thing about the trial that perplexed the Germans most was that there was no law against cannibalism, and as Bernd-Jurgen had consented, it wasn't really murder.

If anything can be learned from our German chums or the various groups who have engaged in this week's cannibalistic media orgy, it's that in this nation there's no gratifying our appetites for feeding on ourselves.

There's no law against it, but it does leave one feeling a little queasy.