Monthly Archives: June 2015

Tim Walker’s Novel 10

“Almost eight weeks on from the first air attack on Washington DC, astonishingly, but certainly, in no small part, thanks to intervention from the UN, there has been no reported retaliation.

“Still a little over a week out from North Korea’s original D-day, which, as we may recall, was the first day of the New Year, this one sided war, North Korea has waged on the rest of the world, appears to be fizzling out.

“Whether the rest of the world is, since learning of General of the Army, Kodos Wanton’s, unquenchable bloodlust, fearful of how the unpredictable Koreans might react or if, they are simply, biding their time, waiting, for the optimal moment to strike back, other than the occasional provocation from North Korea, in the form of a comparatively feeble missile strike, or other, incendiary, attack, the planet appears, relatively at peace.

“Given the unconventional nature of the world’s, current unrest, where ultimately, one nation is inciting one hundred percent of the violence, the hope of a ceasefire over Christmas, is, if anything, a gamble.

“But the lingering question, at many people’s lips, is why, nobody has been doing anything, to stop, or at least, to stymie this, unprovoked, onslaught? And for the answer, we cross live now to UN Security Council member, Carol Hives, Carol, why has the world been standing idly by while, North Korea, takes, pot-shots at us?”

“As I said, Michael, in the beginning, it was the imminent threat, the potential for world war that kept everybody, shall we say, disarmed, and also Michael, of course, the manifestly blatant fact that, to go to war against a nation such as North Korea has become, would be plainly futile but now, given the magnitude and, well, latitude, of North Korea’s most recent air strikes, over Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, even India, and, most shockingly, Russia, I fear to say it, world war might already be upon us.

“So when exactly are the world’s, powerhouse nations, going to stand up for themselves, going to say ‘enough’s enough’, and start fighting back?”

“Alright, Michael, it would seem that you are a little behind, and certainly, two days ago had you asked me that question, I am sure I would have replied along the lines of, why would anyone bother fighting back when they know the power of their assailant, is quite simply, unassailable?

“Alright, I see.”

“Yes, but as I said Michael, you’ve fallen behind, way down there in the south … A little under an hour ago, the world did, as you put it, start fighting back.

“Oh, alright then, so, Carol, how’s progress?

“As expected, Michael, it’s not good.

“Please, Carol, elaborate.

“This was the reason, Michael, as I keep telling the world’s newscasters, that no nation was willing to fight back, against, the North Korean army.

“And what, was that reason, please, Carol?

“Michael, North Korean armed forces, having coupled with Chinese armed forces, simply and unequivocally, are a totally, however you put it, unbeatable, undefeatable, unassailable, force.

“Alarming stuff, Carol, please, continue.

“Michael, you sound, detached, I am unsure you are, comprehending, quite the gravity, of what I’m reporting to you…”

“Please, Carol, go on..?

“The North Korean military, Michael, are simply, too strong…

“Yes, it’s alarming stuff alright, Carol.

“Michael, listen to me, when I say, the world, is under, attack.

“Alright, thank you, Carol … We’re leaving Carol Hives now … This is Michael Robertson, with Three News, wishing everyone a merry Christmas, and happy holidays, and a very good night.”

Dave Walters never woke up.

 

 

 

 

No way. It’s too much. I’m a gone-burger.

 

Still keeping the pride? K.

 

Tim Walker’s Fertility

Recent tests have revealed that the quality of a man’s sperm deteriorates as he ages.

This means that not only does his chance of fathering children become lower but the children that he might father are at greater risk of suffering birth defects such as Down’s Syndrome or other congenital issue.

This revelation has prompted calls of ‘free sperm freezing for eighteen-year-olds’, with the hope that an older man wishing to procreate could call upon his more youthful sperm to perform the task; of course the freezing of sperm would also be beneficial for sufferers of testicular cancer, or related maladies rendering a male infertile.

Unsurprisingly the main aspect holding back this initiative is of a financial nature – with initial semen banking costing over $100 then with an annual storage fee of over $150 – which the Government would be expected to pay.

If every teenage male was to capitalise on this strategy on their eighteenth birthday – given how eighteen-year-old boys are so renowned for their forward-thinking ability – over a couple of years it could cost the Government in the vicinity of billions of dollars.

Let’s hope they find a way though because as we all should know by now, if there’s one thing this world desperately needs, it’s a higher rate of reproduction…

I can’t speak for her but using frozen sperm wouldn’t be the same, would it?

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Freya Zen Swum-Marr

Photography by I C Pessy

Tim Walker’s Reality II

Compared with the rest of the world’s nations, fair to say New Zealand is rather small; yet we endeavour to broadcast reality with the best of them.

Regarding land mass we’re quite small, regarding population we’re decidedly small and regarding the ability to think for ourselves, seemingly, we’re downright tiny. Much as I’m sure individual New Zealand citizens would dispute this, as a collective we love nothing more than to throw ourselves onboard that ridiculously fickle fashion-bandwagon and ride the success of an American or, better yet, an Australian initiative.

Given that the world appears to have agreed that the 21st century is the era of reality television, it is not unexpected that New Zealand would wish to also partake in this worldwide pervasion of hackney.

When the US filmed its first season of American Idol I recall being amazed at the depth of talent they had on offer; the Idol bus drove state to state, auditioning thousands of hopefuls at each location and the level of talent we saw, utterly breathtaking. Few years down the track we thought it’d be awesome to give NZ Idol a nudge…

Yeah.

It wasn’t quite as good as we’d all been led to believe it’d be, and I think Ben Lummis would agree. That said, as the runner-up, Michael Murphy did enjoy some fleeting success.

The problem is that we try to replicate the reality shows of other countries while seemingly forgetting that, where the US had over 150 million potentially talented people for its debut season of Idol New Zealand scarcely had over four. Australia had a shot too and, along with their 20 million, it has to be said, they did alright.

It just makes me uneasy to see our meagre population competing with the big guns and failing so abjectly. Granted, while I predicted The Bachelor NZ to be one of our biggest televised abortions to date, there were some who claimed to have genuinely enjoyed it; that said, I think we can all agree that NZ doesn’t Got Talent.

Shows about cooking, shows about gardening; shows about dancing, shows about singing; shows about talent, shows about fashion; shows about renovating, shows about building; shows about finding love, shows about swapping wives…

My God, really?

Curious that New Zealand hasn’t yet felt able to embrace the Big Brother franchise or perhaps done a spinoff or something similar; although I do think a reality show called Little Sister might arouse some inappropriate questioning.

I was suitably disgusted a few months back to see the impending arrival of Come Dine With Me NZ flickering across my television screen so, just as I had done for The Bachelor NZ, made a quick pledge of avoidance. Few weeks later though, while chopping down through the channels I inexplicably hesitated. The memories of that night are lurid: I can still see before me a table seating three expectant guests; two chubby females across from one portly male. I hear the first chubby female speak with classic Kiwi inflexion and elongated vowel sounds: “Oh yeah, I had no idea what an eye fillet even was…”

The portly male interjects: “It’s steak.”

The other chubby woman concludes the exchange with a vacuous giggle and a lot more of that wonderful Kiwi inflexion: “Oh, I thought it was fish.”

Suffice to say I swallowed the bile in my mouth and quickly moved on.

Another evening I saw an advertisement for what, I believe but can’t be certain, was that very same show. This time it was a dapper young gentleman remarking about how, “…Oh, I just feel so, oh … So much like a royal!”

“Regal,” I recall thought/mumbling, “You just feel so regal.”

Honestly, we are not adequately equipped to take on big reality; can we please let go and just focus on our strengths – like developing more sensational, fictional Kiwi television shows such as Westside?

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Prez Don Singh

Photography by N E Moa

Tim Walker’s Hypocritical

Pascal’s confectionary company are said to be discontinuing sales of their famed Liquorice Allsorts due to an apparent ‘dwindling demand’ for the product.

On hearing this, as seems to be the Kiwi way, now almost every person in the nation is in uproar claiming something along the lines of, “Oh but you can’t stop making Liquorice Allsorts, gosh, they were our favourite lolly in the whole wide…”

I’m unsure if this is a recognised issue across the world or if it’s strictly a New Zealand problem, how nobody seems to cares about a particular product’s existence while it’s readily available then the instant there’s talk of it being taken away, everybody is suddenly an advocate.

Reminiscent of the Georgie Pie fiasco a few years back: I recall this franchise opening shops around Christchurch when I was a youngster; all I ever heard from anyone about the quality of the place was that it was ‘rough’, ‘dirty’, ‘squalid’, ‘cheap’ and ‘disgusting’ (I assumed at least one of those adjectives must have been describing the food). Therefore I grew up harbouring the belief that this Georgie Pie franchise was something of an outcast that nobody really wanted anyway…

You can imagine my confusion then when, on announcing that Georgie pie was to be closing its shops throughout New Zealand, almost every person I observed speaking on the topic was outraged – they loved Georgie Pie, they had always loved it and my assertion that anyone I’d spoken to in the past about it didn’t much care for Georgie Pie so I guessed it wasn’t all bad, was met with vociferous cynicism.

Now they’re taking away your Liquorice Allsorts because you’re not buying enough and I suppose you’re going to try and tell me that it must be everyone else who’s not buying enough, ‘cause you always bought heaps o’ them…

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by George E Paye

Photography by U Bullocks

Tim Walker’s Protesting II

All that talk of Kauri seems to have uprooted some further protester discord.

I can totally see why protesters would be so vehemently against the removal of ancient Kauri stumps from Kaitaia’s wetlands – those stumps have been there for a long time.

That was the reason. They’ve been there for a long time.

See, as a protester you must be against anything related to change; you must relinquish the desire for progress in any form, especially if it results in somebody’s financial gain.

Seriously though, this ancient Kauri is beautiful wood. It has the potential to be fashioned into exquisite tabletops, bench-tops, cabinets, or other furniture. Why anyone would rather this amazing timber be left to lie at the bottom of a swamp for another couple of thousand years when it could be put to good use above land, admired and treasured, is beyond me.

Protesters, ecologists, conservationists, greenies or whatever the hell you lot like to be called, it’s time you woke up and started looking to the future. Not everything can always be the same as it ever was. Think logic. Think practicality.

Think sense.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Cody Greening

Photography by Tim Burr

Tim Walker’s Protesting

Those bloody protesters again; most recently a bunch of the idiots scaled the walls of New Zealand’s Parliament House in protest of…

No. That’s what they want me to do. Well I refuse to lower myself to their game of public spectacle, citizen outcry and such. In my opinion they climbed the Beehive, thereby causing a massive security breach for no other reason than because they are a bunch of impetuous dickheads with nothing better to do than bring down the hopes and dreams of greater New Zealand.

Few months ago – and I very nearly wrote a piece on this at the time – some dude in Auckland wanted to clear some land on his property and decided the gargantuan Kauri (which is actually pronounced ‘Cody’) standing in the corner was taking up too much space. Understandably then he took measures to cut down this tree.

Well, next thing all hell’s broken loose. Despite following all the appropriate legal channels, gaining consent to have the tree felled safely and so forth, next thing there’s one of these bloody tree-huggers, literally hugging his tree.

I know, it’s a difficult thing for all us law-abiding citizens to comprehend but apparently if you’re a protester it doesn’t matter; if you’re a protester, seemingly, you’re above the law.

That’s right, according to the protester handbook, if you have good cause you can bust onto anybody’s property and do whatever the hell you wish. In the case of the Kauri protester he climbed it then kept vigil until he got his way; in this recent case the idiot protesters defied national security by infiltrating Parliament grounds and essentially, made a mockery of our Government by using the walls of Parliament House as a climbing frame – all to ‘peacefully’ protest something that I still refuse to mention.

No. That cute little alliterative description ‘Peaceful Protest’ has to be the biggest oxymoron of the 21st century.

Remember silly Pete Bethune? Remember the way a few years back he threw himself onboard and tried to manhandle the crew of the vessel that he and his affiliated boat were protesting, in order to prevent them from doing whatever they were doing? Fair call, it was regarding whaling and yes, I too am against whaling in the South Pacific but for Pete’s sake, you can’t just go doing illegal shit simply because you feel strongly on a particular matter.

For the record, Mr Bethune was incarcerated for five months and personally, he deserved longer.

While I am not necessarily against the values protesters uphold, I am invariably against the ways in which they go about expressing those beliefs.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Trey Hye Geer

Photography by John Law

 

 

 

Tim Walker’s Naive

A new brand of readily available, comparatively inexpensive heroin is quickly spreading throughout the United States of America.

It’s a worrying phenomenon, moreover when one considers how easily it could bridge the gap to become a part of New Zealand youth culture.

The affordability of this new variety of drug is such that the inevitable addiction it presents is more financially sustainable, therefore is an easier habit to maintain than its classic heroin counterpart, meaning furthermore that this cheaper drug is proving much more devastating to young lives across America.

In a news report out of Miami, dealers can be seen out on the streets openly distributing this drug to passersby, indicating that its prevalence is so diffuse and its exchange so widespread, that this is a trend US police are simply unable to control.

I’m reminded of a recent seizure of drugs involving a New Zealand man who allegedly tried to smuggle 1.7kgs of methamphetamine into Bali – this 52-year-old beneficiary claims he was unaware of the contents as he was innocently transporting the bag for a woman he’d met on an Internet dating site…

Different drug, different country, sure, but the theme’s the same. It demonstrates how people are always looking for methods in which to transport their drug abroad. Much as we in New Zealand might like to believe otherwise, international drug trafficking is rife all around the world – including in the Southern Hemisphere.

…Personally, the guy’s full of it. It’s my belief that, like most of these idiots who claim to have no knowledge of the drugs up their rectum, he was looking to make some easy coin on the side then spend the rest of his life languishing in paradise.

If however, I am wrong and his story about transporting across an international border a bag full of drugs for some woman he had yet to meet in person is in fact true, well, imagine my surprise.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by P Shmocca

Photography by Draca Taika

Tim Walker’s Manslaughter

How comforting it is to know that the price of murder in New Zealand is really only a manslaughter charge.

When two minors entered the Railside Dairy in Henderson, West Auckland earlier this month, no one disputes that they did so with the intention of robbing the premises. When dairy owner and father of two, Arun Kumar refused to cooperate with these child-thugs and even threatened them with a weapon of his own, I think neither does anyone dispute that it was the kids’ lack of frontal lobe development that led one of them to impale his knife in the neck of Arun Kumar. Certainly no one disputes that this is what led to his slow and painful death, anyway.

What is in dispute however, is whether this knife-wielding-maniac of a child actually intended to kill Mr Kumar. The defence is claiming that when confronted with a weapon the boy panicked, leapt in the air and thrust his knife into one of least accessible regions on a man to unintentionally bury a blade. The defence maintains that this delinquent (no, the lawyer doesn’t refer to his own client as a delinquent, just me) had no premeditated desire to injure Mr Kumar and despite ultimately being responsible for the man’s death, should not be on trial for murder.

The fact that pairs of minors are entering dairies in West Auckland intending to carry out armed robbery is bad enough, and although personally the whole thing smacks of gang initiation, that doesn’t makes the situation any less reprehensible.

Here we have an example of two lads who, if allowed to continue on their current paths, will never amount to much of anything, least of all productive members of society. Yet seemingly a judge has taken into consideration their obvious youth, their apparent innocence, and the fact that they killed Arun Kumar without intent – given Kumar had a weapon it seems these boys can even claim self-defence, although I would have said being there to rob the joint meant they effectively forewent that right but then I’m not a high-priced lawyer, am I?

The killer was given manslaughter. The accomplice’s charge I don’t believe has yet been decided. Either way this loving father and husband, Arun Kumar, is no longer able to support or to just be there for his family.

The most frustrating thing about this case, I felt, was that once these little shitheads are released back onto the streets of West Auckland, the first place they’re likely to go is into the embrace of the nearest gang, where a life of further crime and probable murder will undoubtedly ensue.

Gotta love that NZ judicial system.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Joss Tace

Photography by Trav S Tay

Tim Walker’s Novel 9

“In breaking news, North Korea has further condemned itself, by horrifically, bombing its neighbour to the east, and supposed ally, Japan.

“Today, the fourth day of November, twenty thirteen will forever be, marked as a black day for the people of Japan, as, reports have it, as many as thirty missile strikes, in the space of four minutes, have decimated their, once bountiful, land.

“According to sources Japan was unwilling, to go along with this recent, North Korean quest, for global colonisation and so, seemingly, this is the North Korean military’s way, of strong-arming, or bullying them into doing so.

“Of course, with, reportedly, major devastation spanning from top to bottom, fatalities are expected to be in the millions, perhaps even tens of millions.

“First the US capital, now the whole of Japan, the question that must be hanging from everyone’s lips, is, who next?

“This has been Jules Peach, with Three News, reporting live out of Pyongyang, North Korea, where the tension is becoming very claustrophobic, goodnight.”

He had stayed in town with his parents for support, and while the initial feeling was that they were supporting him, after seeing the way this most recent update had affected them, he decided the other was around was probably more accurate. He supposed it was his lack of worldly exposure in later life that was allowing him to languish under a cloud of blissful naivety; he perhaps wasn’t as aware as his father and mother were of the potential for modern day calamity. Apocalyptical demise notwithstanding, it was good to have the old Walters team back together, under one roof. The ad break finished and everyone again turned focus to the television: “We are here live now with UN correspondent, Carol Hives, Carol, thank you for indulging us once again.”

“Quite alright, Michael, how are things in the south?”

“Honestly, Carol, they are unchanged, and, well, other than a blanket of dread, which has cast itself over our nation, we are going about our lives, as before, and, I guess, waiting.”

“Waiting is all anyone can do, at a time like this.”

“Tell me though, Carol, what does the UN Security Council intend to do, about this, rogue, nation?”

“Make no mistake, while we certainly don’t condone the actions of belligerent, or, as they have been called, pugnacious, leaders, here at the UN our weapons are words … We advise, and our advice, to North Korea, is to stop what you are doing this instant, and think of the consequences of another world war.”

“…Which is what they are looking to start, Carol..?”

“Which is what they will start if they continue on their path, Michael.”

“And how likely do you think it is, that they will heed your advice?”

“Quite honestly, Michael, I don’t like our chances at all, I think there is more to North Korea’s ambitions than settling simply, a childish vendetta against the US … I actually think we are dealing with the mind, of, a psychopath.”

“OK … Would you care to elaborate on that, Carol?”

“Michael, it was initially asserted that the North Korean military, had been corrupted by, an overwhelming sense of, megalomania, that they were enamoured with the concept of power, but on reflection, I’m beginning not to think that North Korea wants land, and I don’t think they particularly want power, or even domination or any of those things -”

“Carol, Carol, sorry to interrupt, Carol, but when you say ‘North Korea don’t want these things’ and ‘we are dealing with the mind of a psychopath’, to whom exactly, do you refer?”

“In fairness, Michael, here at the UN we, typically, like to avoid naming names, but if you insist on forcing my hand … I refer to recently incarcerated, recently liberated, General of the North Korean Army, Kodos Wanton.”

“And you attest to his being a psychopath..?”

“I attest to nothing, the man is insane, there can be no other reason to conscript, practically one’s entire male population … Michael, Kodos Wanton is killing, purely for the love, of killing.”

“And on that bombshell, Carol, we must leave you, thank you for your input.”

“Thank you Michael, goodnight.”

Kahn turned to his father, who appeared to have aged ten years during that three minute broadcast. He looked at his mother, who smiled her disingenuous response.

“What did ya make of all that?” his father rasped.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” replied Kahn meekly, “I knew there was more to it than a simple land battle – and that Wanton…”

“You’re right about that,” his father concluded.

“Who wants dessert then, eh?” his mother cheered in the hope of lifting the mood.

“Nah, I’m right, thanks sweets,” said his father, reclining in his chair.

“I’m good too, thanks,” said Kahn.

“Might catch a few winks before the late news tonight,” said his father, reclining further.

“Do you reckon they’ll have more news on the Korean story?” asked Kahn.

“I bloody hope not,” said his father as he closed his eyes.

 

 

 

Right. Its confirmed. They getting suspicious. They know somethings going down. They keep bringing in more so its not like I’m winning a battle or anything, but they know someones out there. They know someones knocking them off, one by one. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to catch me soon, and I have no idea what’ll happen then, but the way its looking, anything is better than being here.

 

Still keeping the pride, K.

 

 

Tim Walker’s Whanganui

It’s currently inescapable – the name Whanganui is everywhere.

It’s all you hear at the beginning of the evening news on TV – Whanganui floods, Whanganui devastation, Whanganui this, Whanganui that, Whhhanganui…

Going back a few years it used it be just Wanganui. It was simple. Wanga, like the ‘Two rights don’t make a Wong’ Wanga. Now it’s Whanga, as if someone is against the advent of that infernal ‘h’ and is trying to blow it out of the line-up – Whhhanganui.

Interestingly though it seems to be only the news presenters who insist on this breezy pronunciation; all the locals I’ve heard interviewed appear quite content to maintain the archaic Wong-inspired Wanganui. It was ridiculous the other night hearing the reporter referring to ‘…these devastating floods in Whhhanganui, now a word from a Whhhanganui farmer … Oh yeah, she’s wet alright, reckon it’s the worst floods Wonganui’s seen since 2004…’

Since 2004..? Here’s me thinking it’s some kind of hundred year phenomenon and now you tell me this variety of biblical deluge takes place in Whhhanganui every ten or eleven years?

They made such a big deal about adding the ‘h’, I guess to make it more like Whangarei, but then Whangarei’s more an ‘f’ sound, like Fonga, and here you have people just trying to blow away the damn ‘h’ in Whhhanganui…

For some reason it reminds me of the last time I was in Wanaka, confabulating with all the Wanaka locals about how we’d been out to the Omarama pub the night before and about how joyous it was to be to the Omarama pub…

Being a respectful, if not ignorant Cantabrian, of course I made a concerted effort to properly pronounce Ow-murr-ah-muh. I think the Wanaka locals thought I was mad. They talked about Omarama as if they were a bunch of redneck Aussies – O-mare-a-ma. After cringing at this butchering of the name for the third time I put it to them: “Just hang on a minute guys, how do you say your town’s name again?”

“Wanaka,” they all responded, which, as expected was more like, Won-ih-ka.

“Right, yet you pronounce Omarama O-mare-a-ma..?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Well surely the ‘mar’ in Omarama shares the same vowel sound as the ‘Wan’ in Wanaka, no?”

Tell you what, if those Wanaka locals thought I was mad before, they thought I was a raving lunatic now.

For the record, I make a point now of only ever referring to Wanaka as ‘Wanna-ka’; yet the original point remains: Wanganui versus Whanganui. Wonganui versus Whhhangnui. You know I never liked the ‘h’ in the first place and if properly speaking Kiwis want to blow it away, that’s fine by me.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Won E Car

Photography by Wan E Car