It winds me up to see the world’s mathematicians, statisticians and essentially, this collective alliance of over-sensible, fuddy-duddy, pessimistic dullards, getting together with their pompous senses of reason, facts, figures and numbers, and deriding the lottery.

It may not come as a shock that I am a regular Saturday night participant of Lotto.

Every so often these overeducated boffins seem to sit down with their pen and paper then do their best to abolish any shred of excitement Lotto might bring to the hearts of the hopeful, by making the likelihood of winning anything substantial sound so hopeless, so farcical, so downright implausible and outright impossible that well, you might as well just go off and shoot yourself right now.

That ridicule stops here…

Whenever I see or hear one of these so called statisticians quoting their apparently unimpeachable equations – which I guarantee no one has even cared to check through before broadcasting because who really cares that much? – I briefly flick through the sums being thrown around and yes, of course they add up but, like any good manipulators these people doing the sums have cleverly arranged the facts to best emphasise their points while dismissing any others and ultimately, they give the conclusions they want you to hear.

…In New Zealand anyway, the odds of winning enough to at least cover the cost of your ticket are very good – but that’s not why people play Lotto, hell no, we all want to win the big one, the prize that will immediately elevate us to a far greater status than we could ever have imagined – while the chances of winning that elusive top prize, in a country as sparsely populated as New Zealand, in those weeks where on a Sunday morning it is revealed on paper or TV that somebody has in fact won the first division, in contrast to a nation such as the US and their national draw where you’re one person amid approximately 150 million so what are the chances, in good ol’ NZ you know there’s only around 1 million other lottery contenders you need to defeat in order to take that top prize…

I don’t think though, realistically I mean, anybody actually expects to win Lotto; it’s just something we do for a bit of fun, a little extra joy in the weekend, a small excitement to make up for the fact that although Saturday night was shit and now we really have nothing to look forward to all week, hey, ‘Maybe I won Lotto’.

…That is the optimists approach, unequivocally the gamblers way of perceiving the game: the odds aren’t that bad because it’s a pretty small field. Anyone can waste their time working out the equations, looking at the figures, the facts of probability and so forth, and they can try to tell you that the odds of winning first division are something ridiculous like 1:1 billion but hear this – what were the odds of me, one week over ten years ago, nailing five of the first six numbers on one line, along with the Powerball, to win third division Powerball; then the following week hitting five more numbers on a line to win third division again? …

If the likelihood of winning first division is so slim it’s scarcely worth a mention, second division must possess half that quota of un-likeliness thus third div, half again – still sounds inordinately unlikely to me – then add Powerball to that achievement and again, according to our numbers boffins there is practically zero chance; yet that’s just what I did – in consecutive weeks and yes, once with the Powerball.

…This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

That said, those idiots who on winning a large prize suddenly realise that after all this time they actually have no need for the money after all and would just feel so much better if it instead went to some needy charity to help put food in the mouths of impoverished children, or to perhaps help with research to cure the sick or to invest in raincoats to keep dry the wet or something, are indeed idiots: nothing against impoverished children, illness, or staying dry, it’s just that, well, to these people, what the hell do you think you’ve been doing for the past however many years – where do you think your tens of thousands of dollars of lost lottery entries have gone? The New Zealand Lottery Foundation is primarily a charity, thus anybody who decides to award their hard-earned lottery winnings to charity is, in a word, idiotic.

Crap. The above paragraph was an afterthought; I really wanted to close on the one above it but then went and had a bitch about philanthropy, goodwill and all that heart-warming stuff – what would you say are the odds that I could make a copy of the aforementioned excerpt and stick it down there before

This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

Also, those who avoid a terrible mishap then on the recommendation of their buddies (Dude, that was so lucky – you should buy a Lotto ticket) go off and buy a Lotto ticket are additional idiots; you’ve already used your quote of luck, why would you expect more?

This is the bullshit of statistics and probability; yes probability is likelihood, but life doesn’t always follow likelihood and on the weekend that it doesn’t, I sure as hell want to have bought my Lotto ticket.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Prue Bibble Lutti

Photography by Taika Chance

 

For those who keep badgering me about not being able to locate my book/s online, on behalf of CompletelyNovel, I apologise for making it so very difficult.

The below links, providing CompletelyNovel don’t throw up additional challenges, ought to take a reader directly to my portfolio which incidentally, will soon include the third and final instalment of the series.

 

https://completelynovel.com/books/pride-in-the-land

 

https://completelynovel.com/books/pride-in-the-name

 

Following uploading of the conclusion to the saga, Pride in the State, I then intend to swell the above portfolio with a range of new and interesting titles, along with several past manuscripts that, although they failed in the eyes of New Zealand’s three major publishing houses, with a touch of polish I believe will make ripping good reads – including the old favourite, Bitter Burns.

Get into it.

 

 

 

 

 

The above publications and the content therein is registered copyright of Tim Walker, 1983.

Acting, as seen on TV, is generally a poor depiction of reality; add to that the ‘better’ the acting, the less realistic it becomes.

This week’s Theory therefore, pertains to a belief that I am certain many or indeed, most of you out there have never even considered.

To be clear, this belief does not refer to the realism of the stories or premises behind the shows (because I think we all accept the majority of those are not at all lifelike – particularly reality shows), but the acting – the human representation of humans acting naturally.

Who has ever spoken for a prolonged length without at least having to pause for thought for a second or two? Of course they can’t do that on TV, viewers would become bored. On that note, aside from prepared speeches, people just don’t tend to rattle off meaningful content for up to a minute without coughing, stuttering, stumbling over words, or having to go back and amend, or correct a point; additionally, who ever speaks with perfect clarity or without ever having to clear their throat? Unless it’s part of the story, nobody on TV ever has to ask another to repeat themselves, or tend to a rogue bodily function or in fact, deal with any of life’s genuine foibles.

That’s basically my point there but get a load of this next bit, it might just blow your mind: what we as people consider ‘good acting’ on the basis that we believe it to be ‘realistic’, generally, is not realism at all – it’s more like the depiction of what we would like, or what we wish our lives could could be.

Who, on hearing a hilarious comment, stands by impassively before delivering immediate and clever repartee? I’m not referring to those cheesy American sitcoms either; no, the acting there fails to be good or realistic. I refer to any show where ‘normal’ people leading ‘normal’ lives seem to possess a decidedly abnormal level of suaveness, wit, capability and likeability, and whose acting has such an endearing affect on the rest of the world that we simply cannot help but commend them on their ‘fine acting ability’.

Who, while in a high pressure situation, speaks calmly or clearly? ‘Good acting’ in that case would likely be incoherent rambling; most people are also rather difficult to understand when they’re breathless. Not on TV though, because that’s not what the viewer expects, is it? We award Oscars to actors who are most efficient at managing that elusive blend between acting falsely, but without appearing farcical.

Why do Kiwi actors usually sound as though they’re ‘bad actors’? It’s because as viewers we’re so accustomed to hearing a svelte American tongue that to mix in a sloppy Kiwi accent sounds ghastly; of course watch it for long enough to realise that is in fact how we speak, and Kiwi acting begins to sound alright.

To conclude: my theory is that if television accurately depicted the audio of reality, if TV looked and more importantly, sounded like life, it would be utterly horrendous.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Chi Sia

Photography by Rom Com

 

 

 

Nature has for decades been seeking an effective way to stymie global population growth.

Alas even with all the World Wars, the cancers, the AIDs, the diabetes, the hepatitises, the bird flus, and the Ebolas she can’t seem to prevent the world’s population from continuing to burgeon.

So now Nature’s trying a different approach.

Rather than knocking off existing populous Nature has ingenuously discovered a way to stop people from even popping into existence in the first place…

It’s true, this is no new discovery: Nature long ago thought that by introducing to grownups’ favourite pastime the scourge of STDs (or STIs, as current fashion dictates), it could perhaps stymie that swelling population by adding to the act of baby-making a decidedly undesirable quality – here people showed why they rule the planet – outsmarting Nature first with their medicines and vaccinations, then with the advent of condoms.

…In this, Nature has taken a mildly different tack: this new virus, while not strictly venereal, is expected to be equally, if not more off-putting as its ST counterpart and in fact will stop pregnancies before they start.

Cue the Zika Virus: originating in tropical Africa and although not life-threatening per se, does have the ability to cause deformity in unborn babies.

The Zika Virus, which bears similarity to dengue fever, is transmitted through mosquitoes and where reported cases of the virus were initially restricted to Africa, this has since spread to Southeast Asia, the Pacific Islands and more recently, shockingly, the UK.

Threats of the Zika Virus and the deformities it can cause to a foetus – abnormally undersized skull along with impaired cognitive function – have naturally reduced the inclination within these affected lands to become pregnant at all.

Therefore, for the moment at least, it would seem Nature is back in control; she honestly thought she had gained the upper hand with that recent Ebola scare in West Africa, but as is so often the case, the infernal goodwill of mankind thwarted her efforts.

Maybe this time, eh Nature..?

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Panda E Mick

Photography by Nate U R Sway

 

Kiwis who rack up sizeable student loans through partying, idiocy and other youthful shenanigans, shouldn’t have to repay that money if their living expenses are too high…

That’s how Aucklander Nga Puna felt, anyway; he thought that because he wasn’t earning much he didn’t have to repay the $40,000 loan he incurred on his way to becoming a teacher.

…They also shouldn’t have to pay it if they have a lot of bills, if they have other things to spend their money on; or if they just can’t be bothered.

Nga Puna claimed the cost of living in Auckland – with five kids and a mortgage no less – is so expensive, and his starting pay as a mathematics teacher so low that simply, he couldn’t afford to keep up loan repayments so basically, he allowed them to lapse.

For some reason Puna’s loan has since risen to $130,000 and he now has an interest in going overseas but inexplicably, the New Zealand Government won’t let him.

He can’t believe the injustice; I can’t believe the stupidity.

This man felt that “because he couldn’t afford it”, he was above repaying his $40,000 student loan – as though he’s the only person in New Zealand who, despite willingly accepting financial assistance from the Government, would rather shirk their repayments in favour of more expendable cash.

This Nga Puna character is probably the same kind of person who likes to save a little extra by not paying for house insurance then when an electrical fault burns his house to the ground, plays the ‘poor me’ card, taking advantage of good-natured (but desperately ignorant) Kiwis by capitalising on one of those ‘Give a Little’ websites.

People like Nga Puna and his defaulted student loan are in fact the reason this nation of ours experiences the financial woes we so frequently do: the people of New Zealand have billions of dollars on credit – including student loans from last century and beyond – and many of us with zero intention of ever repaying that money.

‘It’s only the Government’, we think, ‘they can handle it’, we argue, ‘we deserve it more than they do’ and such; alas the sad truth is that there is no way a national economy can sustain that kind of treatment – IOUs only work when somebody picks up the deficit at the other end and ask around, there’s nobody at the other end.

In that sense we’re a nation of freeloaders; that said enjoy this piece of free insight: if we want to see an end to inflated Auckland house prices along with the aforementioned exorbitant cost of living, we need to stop wanting what we cannot afford and start spending actual money.

Nga Puna is unwittingly perpetuating the financial predicament that he is so shamelessly condemning.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Sasha Fool/I Ronny

Photography by Tan Jobble/Minnie S Bust

Gosh that last Theory, Theory XXVI I think it was, was written amid a terrible lot of anger; today though, Friday, there is simply no excuse for anybody to be harbouring mal-contentment of any nature.

The thing is I frequently write vicious posts (Raw being the one that immediately comes to mind) but ordinarily I decide they are not fit for human consumption and either delete them on the spot or stash them away in some deep dark cache where nobody will ever stumble upon their ugliness…

Today being Friday thus the end of the working week (for most; although as I glance around I realise that number is becoming increasingly few), the time for anxiety has passed, the time for bearing grudges – particularly against massive corporations for their continual lack of regard towards customers along with periodic price increases because apparently the cost of Broadband keeps rising while their ability to deliver it with any sort of competency never does then of course they like to mark up that expense by a few and pass it directly on to their consumers to ensure aggravation remains a freshly sliced wound – has fallen behind us also so we must relinquish for now, to be no doubt picked up again Monday.

…Sometimes though, depending what persona I happen to be channelling I mean, I do delve into that drab little world of enmity where I usually emerge followed by some seething mess of emotion which, while at the time of my writing may indeed have been cathartic now has little purpose other than to possibly try and possess/inhabit me while I rest and while it’s still lively, ultimately I am aware will do no one any good.

Friday is perhaps the best day of the week to take advantage of that infernal daylight saving thing (does southern New Zealand really need daylight until 11pm every night of the week?), and experience the joy of a nice cool scotch in the sun (which admittedly was a lot more joyous when cigarettes were part of the game, but is still joyful nonetheless).

Shit I’m just glad it’s Friday.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Tylcho Pruff-Eiders

Photography by Ali D Sami

 

 

Might just be me but I reckon the world and its businesses therein are out to screw me.

This week’s Theory therefore pertains to the progressively money-hungry, unscrupulous and indeed, rapacious nature of some groups and the businesses behind which they stand…

I use the term ‘progressively’ because I honestly don’t think it used to be this way and yes, I do believe this phenomenon is becoming worse.

…I understand that in order to survive in this modern world, businesses need to be financially astute and to take advantages wherever they can but dishonest behaviour..?

I understand furthermore that as many will not wish to, they will find it difficult to accept the notion of unscrupulous professionals but here’s the thing: particularly in New Zealand, this has become a cutthroat era in which to be a business owner; if an opportunity to make/save a little cash presents itself, I doubt there is a professional out there who would be willing to overlook it…

In fact to see masterfully documented examples of such practise one needs only go back XXI weeks and take a look at Theory V; alternatively, additionally, a fine example can be found amid the horror of Unscrupulous.

…The problem with unscrupulous business practise is that many people are so unwilling to believe they are being played that simply, they accept what’s happening as normal procedure; they pay the extra, and go away without any idea they’ve been another victim of a duplicitous scheme.

To see another example of untoward business practise, look no further. As mentioned in a previous post Spark sent me a bill on the last day of last year; for the record the bill contained a full month’s charges. After a mild brouhaha, also to my forcibly paying over $300, I was credited over $200. Today, the 18^th of January, I received another bill from Spark; this bill also contained a full month’s worth of charges but of course given my credit they saw no need to mention ‘date of last bill payment’, ‘date of next bill payment’; ‘total amount payable’, or in fact any information at all – it was only my propensity to feverishly cling to unfavourable instances that enabled my brain to quietly let on something was not right.

There shall be no prizes awarded for guessing what I did next, and regrettably, it was while speaking to Filipino Mary that I became more incensed with that infernal company than I ever have been.

The conversation began calmly enough; I inquired into whether Spark made a habit of sending out ‘monthly’ bills every 18 days, or if I was a special case..? Filipino Mary appeared at first taken aback by the nature of my grievance, also the ease with which I recounted details of a previous bill, until realising/being reminded of the disagreement we’d had regarding that very account; I then took this opportunity to give the company (always the company, never the operator) some light abuse about reneging on assurances that the past bill was to be cleared and not just credited to my account, as in fact it had been.

Filipino Mary apologised for the ‘misunderstanding’ and with regard to the recent bill, assured me that this was indeed normal procedure. Faced with the subsequent question of how receiving a monthly bill 18 days after the last monthly bill could ever be considered ‘procedure’, I detected a slight but hurried backtracking, as she now tried to tell me that my last bill had been sent on the 17^th of December, as all Spark bills apparently were and was therefore covering 28 days worth of charges.

I rebutted, saying that I was looking straight at the last bill – which sadly had been irretrievably deleted – and the date of reception was clearly the 30^th.

Filipino Jane took a moment to reassess then came back, telling me that, “Oh, oh, so sorry, I have, made mistake … No, no, your bill for new financial year…”

I advised her at this point that the ‘new financial year’ didn’t commence for a few more months yet.

“No, no, financial year, no, new year.”

“Yes, twenty-sixteen, new year, but I already pay last year,” for some reason adopting this Filipino’s intermittent speech patterns, “so why pay again this year, after only eighteen days?”

“Not eighteen days,” she said, ostensibly forgetting that I purported to be looking at my last bill, “twenty-eight days.”

“No no, thirty-first to eighteenth, pretty sure that’s only eighteen.”

Filipino Mary took some more ‘reassessment’ time which seemed only to be used to concoct more lies. “New year,” she said confidently, “new account.”

“What are you talking about?” I said disbelievingly; I had smelled bullshit some ago and its stench was really beginning to piss me off.

“New year,” she repeated as if it was me who was having difficulty understanding English, “new account.”

“No,” I said simply, “don’t give me that shit … A new year does not give your company the right to overcharge its clients.”

“Not overcharge, new year.”

“Thank you Mary, I am quite aware that this is a new fucking year, but I do not need some fucking shithouse telecommunications company (still directed at the company, never at the operator) who incidentally, cannot seem to even provide me with ten fucking gigabytes of Internet data without choking the fucking shit out of it…”

“OK, sorry sir, please let me put you to someone who can help you…”

“Thank you Mary,” I said with contrived coolness, swallowing hard and trying to prevent my shaking arm from hurling the phone across the room.

Instead of the hold music that I was expecting however, the phone went straight to the ringing stage, generally indicating an operator will be soon to pick it up; alas the phone continued ringing for the next twenty minutes before I begrudgingly took the hint.

Also occurring a few days ago, on my supposedly ‘No hidden fees’ and ‘100% royalties’ publishing site, while trying to upload a second title to my two-title plan I was stymied on the last stage by the claim that I ‘Don’t have enough credit’ to cover the $4.49 cost of something that I couldn’t quite understand but which was evidently a vital piece of something; then on going back through their ‘Pricing’ section I saw something that indicated not only does the sale price of my book now undergo myriad deductions, one of those deductions is commission.

Joke’s on them though – I haven’t even sold any copies.

Finally my old friend Valued Opinions, who incidentally, I have taken over the years for more than $500 in Subcards, is again refusing to pay me for my invaluable insight; after the last fracas with their rewards system – also documented in an earlier Theory wherein I perhaps wrongly accused NZ Post of the kind of underhandedness which is undoubtedly still founded in other areas – I made a point of keeping track of what and how much they were paying.

They currently owe me $60, and I’ve had nothing in months; thus I iterate – they’re out to screw us.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Reg Rit Able

Photography by Dee Sheat-Foll

 

I always expected professional boxing would go the same way as professional wrestling, but professional cricket leading the way for professional tennis..?

I don’t think anyone saw that one coming.

Take last year’s boxing title fight between Wladimir Klitschko and Tyson Fury for example: seemingly fans were weary of fixed matches that are over in the first round; instead they fixed a match to run the full twelve rounds…

Then there’s the IPL cricket which, as we all should know, panders primarily to the high rolling gamblers; whoever can afford the fee no doubt wins the outcome.

…Fury won that bout to take the world title from Klitschko; odd, given that Fury’s not even a world class boxer. Admittedly though his unabashed arrogance, oblivious idiocy and shameless stupidity are much more of a media spectacle than Klitschko and his sullen demeanour ever could be, so one can almost understand why he made it to the top.

Motorsport too is becoming less controlled by chance and more by the desires of team bosses; professional cycling has been crooked now for some time.

Now it’s been revealed that the top tennis matches are rigged as well. Honestly I don’t think it makes a difference; sure the ‘human’ factor is largely removed but ultimately, somebody still wins and somebody still loses.

You want legitimate competition, stick with grass roots.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Vicks T Mitch

Photography by Mia Dia Fodder

 

 

You know those weeks where frustrating little occurrences continually pop up around the world then seem to culminate about a point wherein agitation coupled with the subsequent aggravation join forces in an attempt to supplant your being?

Um … Not really.

Well what about in the news of late – the number of so called controversies that New Zealand is experiencing at the moment – does the mere mention of ‘enraged protesters’, ‘outraged parent’, or ‘social upset’, not piss you off because you just know the reason behind it is going to be asinine?

Ah … No, not really.

Just me then – alright, go a little wider, what about all the corruption and injustice in sport that’s coming to light at the moment – what about cricket?

Oh, yeah, cricket’s not bad.

It is bad though, that’s the thing … Shit it seems just about every tenth player is involved in corruption of some sort, then once they’ve served their ban and rejoined their team of course the stigma that hovers over them makes them lifetime pariahs across the sport.

Oh yeah, totally, pariahs.

Then there’s the ongoing issue with drugs in sport, with athletes from various codes continually being revealed as drugs-cheats…

What, drugs like meth?

…I don’t actually think methamphetamine is considered a performance enhancing substance – I suppose unless your sport has some requirement of manic sleeplessness.

Yeah, those meth-heads are dicks eh, drugs kills brain cells.

Right, but there are irritating issues closer to home as well – what about those mermaid tails and the mothers, presumably with not enough hardship to occupy their minds, who are kicking up a big stink at the council’s decision to ban them at public pools?

Those mermaid tails are hot.

They’d be hot if you wore them out of the water on a sunny day at the beach or something but not … You’re not talking about heat are you?

Nah man, they’re hot.

I imagine they’d be dangerous too, for inexperienced swimmers who need to stand up quickly or who find themselves in the deep and can’t tread water.

Nah, they’d be alright.

Yeah – how do you reckon you’d go swimming with your legs tied together?

But they’re not tied together, they’re just wearing those sexy fish-tails.

Yes, because nothing is sexier than a slimy, scaly, stinking fish’s tail.

Well they shouldn’t ban them anyway – I think they’re hot.

Fair enough then, we’ll just have the mother of the first girl who drowns after trying to put her feet down in chin-deep water, slipping then being unable to regain her footing and gulping a few mouthfuls until she can gulp no more call you, shall we?

If you want – I just heard one of them say it was BC going crazy or something, and I agree.

Close, what one of those mothers actually said was that it was a case of “PC going wrong” followed by another, additionally inspired opinion, “it’s PC gone mad”.

Yeah, that was it, BC gone mad.

I find it upsetting that these mothers seemingly have so little knowledge of water safety or indeed how quickly, how very easily somebody can lose control in the water, inhale some of the surrounding liquid and simply, become dead.

Must take more than that though – doesn’t it?

Dude, one breath while submerged is all it takes for a person to be rendered unconscious and if that person is not removed from the water within seconds, they will start to involuntarily breathe which, face down in a swimming pool, is not going to end well for them.

I still think they look hot.

Yes, and think how hot the position of a public swimming pool would become if a girl drowned on premises – ‘Why was somebody not watching?’ an angry parent might ask as though one struggling body amid a writhing mass of soggy teenagers is a clearly distinguishable feature.

You can’t see the tails under the water though.

Another good point – I just find it difficult to believe we have people in New Zealand complaining about something so trivial as this prohibition of mermaid tails, when the nation does actually have genuine concerns.

Yeah, like John Key pulling on that girl’s ponytail in that café that time.

Right, like that, or, as I mentioned in Implied III, one could say this is evidence of the ease with which life in New Zealand is lived – where the only thing to complain about is triviality.

It’s not that easy in New Zealand though.

My point was that in other nations, for example Indonesia where they’ve just undergone a terror attack along with numerous fatalities, I’m sure citizens aren’t terribly concerned with petty shit like the banning of their teenager’s favourite swimming accessory from municipal pools.

Man, those tails are hot though.

Yes or, back on the topic of New Zealand’s genuine issues, such as the recent number of apparently random and unprovoked killings across the North, such as the way obesity and its resulting health issues has become a Goddamn epidemic, and how New Zealand’s medical profession are only just now working out why half of the nation’s kids are so bloody fat…

Why?

Why? Seriously..? Try taking a pinch of ignorant parent, add a whole lot of sugar, mix in MSG along with some food colouring then find ways to justify feeding it to your child at every opportunity and see how it turns out.

Will it turn out bad?

Doctor, doctor, why is my child hyperactive? Doctor, doctor, why does my child refuse to go to sleep? Doctor, doctor, what is ADHD and what drugs can you give me to cure it? Doctor, doctor, why has my child stopped eating vegetables? Doctor, doctor, why does my child only want to eat heavily sweetened, highly processed foods? Doctor, doctor, why is my child so easily upset and crying all the time? Doctor, doctor, why is my child always getting sick? Doctor, doctor, why does my child have so much mucus? Doctor, doctor, can I have some antibiotics for my child’s ear infection? Doctor, doctor, what inhaler would you recommend for my child’s cough? Doctor, doctor, why does my child have no interest in school anymore? Doctor, doctor, why does my child struggle to get up in the morning? Doctor, doctor, can I have some more antibiotics for my child’s latest ear infection? Doctor, doctor, my child’s cough has gone but now can I get a different inhaler for this asthma thing? Doctor, doctor, why did the last course of antibiotics have no effect on my child’s bronchitis? Doctor, doctor, please, I can’t understand it, other than a sprinkling on their cereal they have no sugar, so, why is my child so fat?

Ah, I’m not a doctor.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Dick Thar-Cure/Si Defect

Photography by Pro Scription/Mort T Rubble

 

Given the nature of my Internet usage – the writing/sending of eclectic/miscellaneous articles for/to an interesting variety of domestic/international clientele – I scarcely have need for a large allocation of the data which makes the aforementioned web-like contraption proceed with any level of rapidity.

In other, much simpler words: I only get ten gig.

The problem I have found with only paying for ten gigabytes however, although generally I don’t even use that much, is that with each month’s new quota the provider of said data seems to believe that I will use more and have therefore entitled my wonderfully cost effective, streamlined ten gigabyte plan, ‘Throttle on Cap’.

On account of this audacious and plainly irreverent title, presumably brought about by their erroneous supposition that I will flout my limit with the gusto of a common porn addict, even with a full ten gigabytes of shiny new Internet-fuel, when online my computer seems to spend a great deal more time in painstaking consideration than it would have a few years back, when I was paying for forty gigabytes; of which only around a quarter were ever used.

This week’s Theory therefore, I guess, pertains to the crooked world of Internet providers and the providing that they so questionably claim to do…

Thank you, yes, I am aware that I was only recently full of praise for my Internet provider and its willingness to provide me with a free modem, but that was before the bastards tried to charge me over $200 for the thing.

…Yeah, turns out the modem I received in the post that Saturday was a ‘top of the line’ model (shit I didn’t want a top of the line modem, I just needed something so I could open my email account), and true to form of those faceless companies the lines of communication never extend very far, in that a promise one employee makes to a customer over the phone seldom reaches the point where another employee can actually implement that goodwill. The result of the above debacle, on viewing my online bill – via my new top-of-the-line modem – and seeing how much they expected me to pay for that month’s service, of course I promptly contacted the Philippines…

In a comically ironic twist, in Philippines I spoke to a Kiwi dude named Christopher who, on hearing my grievance, put me through to a New Zealand office where I spoke to a Filipino lady named Rosabel.

…Filipino Rosabel was lovely; in delightfully broken English she apologised for my upset and explained that I had been charged for a new top-of-the-line modem. I accepted her loveliness then in perfect English explained that I had indeed realised what had happened but how I had been promised that a new modem would be delivered free of charge although half expecting that this very miscommunication would take place I had even retained documentation of this agreement to ensure they didn’t renege on the deal; how the fact that this new modem was ‘top-of-the-line’ meant nothing to me and that I would send it back if they wished but there was no way that I was paying for the bloody thing. I added also that I was at risk of becoming incensed by their continual incompetence.

Filipino Rosabel had accepted this and presently agreed to waive the cost of the modem, along with $14 postage; the catch being that I was now contracted to Spark for twelve more months.

“Shit, really?” I remarked with a smirk, “I was pretty sure you guys already had roped me in for twenty-four months by giving me that modem in the first place but, yeah, alright then, twelve months it is … Oh and, Rosabel, I want that bill wiped, alright, not just credited to my account, wiped, understand?”

“You want bill wiped – what date today?” she said to herself. “Today thirty-first – what date bill pay?” she said to me.

“Bill pay on the fifth.”

“OK, should be long enough … How you pay bill?”

“I pay direct debit, that’s why I’m worried – you guys just take what you like and I have to deal with it, and I’d prefer the money be in my account rather than yours…” I trailed off in exasperation.

“OK, I wipe bill, you get keep modem, but you have stay Spark twelve more months, OK?”

“That’s fine, thank you Rosabel, you see to it that the cost of that modem is removed from my account and yeah, like I said, I’ll happily stay with Spark for as long as you like.”

Last week I checked Telebank (‘cause that’s I roll, decade or two behind) to find a massive deficit in my account; I checked my Spark account (online, ‘cause I’m a walking contradiction) to find over a $200 credit.

Based on that I know I ought to take my indignation and use it to change telecommunications providers but here’s the thing, I am certain that in its own special way the next one’s going to be just as shit-headed as the last and, I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle a different variety of incompetence right now.

As my theory maintains, they’re all crooked anyway.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Phil Peanoah Nenzed

Photography by N Z N Fulpeen