There’s nothing us Kiwis love more than bragging about how humble we are.
“Oh, she’ll be right, heh heh, bit o’ the ol’ Kiwi ingenuity, you know, that number eight wire mentality, heh heh, that’s how we Kiwis roll you know, no big deal…”
For the record, your beloved ‘number eight wire’ hasn’t been in usage for the better part of half a century and my God, have you ever tried working with the shit? It is the thickest, stiffest, most awful fencing component there is, was or ever has been; sensible people long ago dropped it for ten, or in some cases, twelve gauge, much more pliable and indeed practical alternative.
Please, don’t misunderstand me, I am a proud Kiwi but the shit some of us say, the claims we make are just unbelievable. Kiwifruit..? You mean the Chinese gooseberry, and what of all this crap about (cue violins) Australia stealing all our stuff? The band Crowded House is composed of New Zealanders and Australians; ownership is therefore divided. Same can be said for Split Enz, Dragon, and in fact many classic ‘Kiwi’ bands. Hell, a few years back we claimed the band I Am Giant as our own, despite the only Kiwi tie at the time being the drummer, Sheldon Woolright; on top of that, going back a few years was the amazing ‘Kiwi’ band Atlas, which in fact sampled members from all around the world, also the band King Cannons which turned out to be, yes, primarily Australian.
Although it doesn’t particularly interest me I believe the racehorse Phar Lap has a similar story of joint national heritage and for God’s sake, who gives a damn where Pavlova was first made – the cake is utter shit.
If you’ll recall some years ago, world renowned actor Russell Crowe was disowned by New Zealand for his outlandish, reckless and according to us, his downright shameful behaviour; yet now he’s become such a massive hit, despite being adopted by Australia all those years ago and New Zealand being glad to see the back of him, now we’re all pissed off because ‘Australia stole him from us’. Seriously, people..? Are our memories so frightfully stunted that we forget what we’ve said immediately after saying it – do we actually think that our pathetic, whinging, snivelling behaviour will earn us the respect of the rest of the world?
Perhaps the ‘typical Kiwi bloke’s’ biggest claim to fame that never was though, is the humble jandal. See, Australia were clever, they changed the name to resemble a seductive piece of lingerie but us idiot New Zealanders with our compulsive ownership and tantrum-like behaviour when someone tries to tell us otherwise…
Huh. It just occurred to me; as a nation we are very much tantamount to an ill-mannered three-year-old.
…Carried on calling that horrendously impractical piece of flaccid footwear ‘jandals’; we even had the audacity to crap on about how very ‘Kiwi’ those horrible floppy rubber flaps of disaster-waiting-to-happen were. Are we stupid? One of them is called a jandal. Come on, people. Jandal. Rhymes with sandal. Jandal.
Japanese sandal, jandal.
No big deal, we pack a shit when other nations lay claim to our heritage, yet appear to have no problem doing the very same thing in the faces of those other countries.
We’re not just superb in the field of shit-packing though, oh no, we chop down anyone who begins to excel in life because seemingly we cannot tolerate the idea that anybody should develop any significant level of self worth, pride or, heaven forbid, self esteem. It’s as if as a people we are essentially against other people’s happiness. We seem to detest the notion that anybody else might be doing well for themselves, I guess, just in case they are doing better than we are.
It’s no secret that New Zealand’s suicide rate is disproportionately high, leading to my assessment that as a nation, I fear we just might have one big collective mental illness.
Humble as.
Article by Tim Walker
Edited by Ham Bull
Photography by Poppy Show-Par