Brian Edwards Media

Archive for June, 2017

Oh What a Tangled Web WeWeave…

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Have you seen this?

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One of the most concerning and extraordinary political scandals I’ve encountered in some time. Go to: www.newsroom.co.nz

 

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America’s Cup Heresy

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Generally speaking I’m not into sport. This is primarily because I’ve never been good at any sport and suffered ridicule at school as a result.

Boys attending the Royal Belfast Academical Institution (“Inst”) could choose between playing sport or joining the school cadet force. Doing neither was not an option.

I was a wimpy kid and terrified of any activity that might conceivably cause me even minor pain. This clearly ruled out rugby, leaving me a choice between cricket and the school cadet force.

I opted for the cadet force, perhaps imagining myself as an officer attracting the lustful glances of pretty German girls as I strode down the streets of Heidelberg, my swagger stick under my arm.

There was no swagger stick; the uniform consisted of uncomfortable brown serge and heavy black boots which you were required to polish with nasty, greasy stuff called blanco. The jumped-up little shits who had made it to corporal or sergeant were horrid and shouted at delicate flowers such as me, revenge no doubt for my being teachers’ pet in German, French and English classes and starring in all the school players. Poofter! Wanker! Suck-Up!

Then there was a ten-day camp. The poofters, wankers and suck-ups had their genitals smeared with blanco by the nation’s finest in the overheated nissan hut on night one – a prelude to a real wanking competition by the aforesaid “officers”. There were nine days and nights still to go.

There was a route-march on day two. Full uniform, heavy backpack, rifle: walk, run, drop to the muddy ground. “Keep up Edwards for fucksake!”

I burst into tears. “I want to go home, sir.”

A teacher drove me back to school where I was left to study in an empty classroom. The shame of it!

My mother wrote me a note, asking that I be allowed to quit the school cadet force.

That left the cricket option.

I won’t dwell on this too much. I could neither bat, bowl nor catch a ball. Bowlers used me to see how many times they could get me out. And I had a new nickname which I wore with just a hint of ironic satisfaction – Hat Trick Edwards!

Now where was I? Oh yes, the America’s Cup. It’s probably heresy to say this, but those things aren’t really yachts, are they? I mean, a yacht is a type of boat, isn’t it? A boat with one or more sails. And it has a hull. And about a third of the hull is under water. So these machines really aren’t yachts. They’re low-flying aircraft.

Just saying!

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Second Thoughts on “What Next”

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Tossed and turned during the night. Couldn’t sleep. A bad conscience will do that to you. Had I been too harsh on What Next? What would I say to John Campbell if I bumped into him at RNZ when Michelle and I were on The Panel? Not a violent man, thank heavens. Probably shake my hand and say, “No hard feelings, Brian.” But that would just make it even worse.

Trouble is I’d watched last night’s show and found no compelling reason to change my opinion. And there are still three episodes to go!

So here’s a more temperate analysis of what I see as the programme’s flaws.

*No contrary opinion is expressed anywhere on the show. On the core issues which the show addresses all the studio guests and all the people in the video clips are in fundamental agreement.

*This does not make for riveting viewing. On the contrary, the worthiness which the programme conveys is likely to turn viewers off.

*More importantly, it may invite the suspicion that this is a programme generally reflecting the views of the Liberal Left – people like me!

*New Zealand On Air funded the series to the tune of $1,219,288. That’s not excessive for a five-part series but it ought at least to buy decent pictures and high quality sound, not Stygian gloom and muddy audio. [Irony Warning!!!] Maybe that’s only in Ponsonby/Herne Bay of course.

And finally this: If you cared to look back on the posts on my website or on Facebook, you’d discover that I’ve been a longtime fan of John Campbell and, despite an early post entitled “I do not care for Nigel Latta”, of that gentleman too.

Damn! Another sleepless night coming up.

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Review of an Unnamed TV Programme


What Next?

My name is Brian and I’m a television addict. My addiction began when I was 10 and holidaying with my Aunt Jessie and Uncle Donald at their maisonette in Bromley in Kent.

Donald and Jessie’s TV had a 12-inch screen and delivered a rather muddy black and white picture. A rather bluish black and white to be precise, resulting perhaps from the limited luminance which the set was apparently capable of delivering. Drawing the curtains helped and added somewhat to one’s viewing excitement.

The first TV programme I ever saw was a stage production of Beckett’s Waiting For Godot. I have to say that this is not my favourite play, if indeed ‘play’ is the word. Not to put too fine a point on it, I would rather eat worms than sit through another performance of Mr Beckett’s renowned oeuvre. Call me philistine if you will. I don’t care.

But at the age of 10, I was transfixed, not by being kept waiting for Godot, but by the flickering images on the screen in front of me. “Hooked” would be a more accurate description. A lifelong addiction to the box had begun. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Parasite on the Body Politic

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There are very few people whom I actively despise. Being far from a model citizen myself, let alone a paragon of virtue either in thought or deed, I’m in no position to pass judgement on my fellow man or woman. But there are some public figures whom I do actively despise, without necessarily being able to specify what it is about them that sticks in my craw.

Peter Dunne is one such. I can’t stand the fellow. He reminds me a little of Tim Shadbolt whose unashamed motto was ‘I don’t care where, as long as I’m mayor.’ But Shadbolt was at least capable of self parody. He mocked himself. Dunne doesn’t really care which political party or group wins an election. The very fine balance in political support between the major parties which MMP has produced has made it possible for a minor party, even a party of one, to enjoy a degree of power entirely disproportionate to its numbers. And to introduce and quite possibly to see passed legislation which a majority of Kiwis might not support. Such is the case with Peter Dunne. Read the rest of this entry »

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