Monthly Archives: October 2015

Tim Walker’s Halloween

All Saints’ Day is – sorry, All Hallow Even – sorry, Hallowe’en – sorry, wrong again, this time, Halloween, is upon us.

This, the one night a year where children are not just allowed to canvass neighbourhood streets after dark knocking on strangers’ doors in the hope of obtaining sugary treats, it’s encouraged.

This, the one night a year where the phrase ‘Trick or Treat’ is quoted repetitively and indeed mindlessly, as few are actually prepared should the ‘Treat’ be refused and the ‘Trick’ option be thrown back at them.

This, the one night a year where teeth are rotted while hypocrisy rules, this is Halloween.

Enjoy it.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by S L Uti-Witch

Photography by Sal Lutty Punking



Tim Walker’s Final

To many All Black fans tomorrow’s Rugby World Cup final will be the biggest game on record and according to the TAB at least, it’s gonna be tight.

My opinion: that New Zealand will take it over Australia is a given; by how much is the question…

For a number of players tomorrow morning is to be their final All Black match ever; after that the only place the names Conrad Smith, Ma’a Nonu, Ritchie McCaw, and Dan Carter will be recognisable in the sport of rugby union, is in the memories of us aged supporters.

…With New Zealand paying $1.35 to Australia’s $3.00, obviously, head to head isn’t where the money is to be made; New Zealand have to take it by 13…

I was just 19 years’ old when a youthful Ritche McCaw first took to the field for Canterbury as an inexperienced 23-year-old; as I recall that was around the same era rugby commentators delivered an almost mocking reception to an unwelcome newcomer of that very same Canterbury side, at the time trying to usurp Andrew Mehrtens’ number 10 jersey, by the name Daniel Carter.

…If not 13 though, I would like to see either a draw at 40 or 80 minutes (which one is really up to you although 80 does pay better), no tries scored in the game, and/or a New Zealand drop goal as the final scoring play.

I believe Conrad Smith to be one of the finest players to wear the All Black jersey; he’s right up there with the class and reliability of Leon MacDonald and will be missed terribly. Honestly, although I’m sure many consider him an asset, I never had much time for Ma’a Nonu. His ill discipline – which admittedly has improved with maturity – and overall uncontrolled style of play, I reckon used to cause me as much stress as a spectator as it did the opposition’s defensive line; nevertheless, his absence will leave a hole.

Tomorrow morning’s game will be a spectacle for all those reasons and surely a great many more.

Go the AB’s.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Cham P Inn

Photography by Feer Wall

Tim Walker’s Friday

You know that feeling you get when your mind is packed so full of pointless notions and silly ideas that, perhaps ironically, little content can actually reach the fore?

No..? Well, it’s been happening to me a lot of late; so much so in fact that my typically infallible memory has been lapsing resulting in mental disarray causing my, ordinarily worrisome but never overly troubling, levels of anxiety to reach uncomfortable new heights.

Understandably from a third person perspective, at this point one could easily make some kind of boorish and wholly unfeeling assertion such as, ‘Oh yeah, sure, you have anxiety issues, like, what do you even do that could make you anxious?’

To which I would offer casual response in the vicinity of, ‘Dude, seriously..? Shit I’m sorry, I wasn’t even aware we were competing … In fairness though it probably has more to do with what I don’t do than what I do actually do.’

They, being the ignorant wonders they are would likely get right to the point: ‘Yeah alright then, tell us, what don’t ya do – I mean from where I’m standing you’ve got it pretty good – you’ve got this sweet brainpower so you can like totally churn out your novels in just over a month and like, you don’t have to worry about where you live and that ‘cause like, you’ve already got a house and that and like, you haven’t even got a wife or a girlfriend so you can pretty much do as you please and there’s no one to nag at ya all day and tell you what to do and that, and like, you can pretty much go out on your bike all day like you do and like you’ve got that jiu-jitsu thing you do and I’m pretty sure most WAGs wouldn’t stand for that and -’

Detecting a propensity for run-on sentences I imagine at this point I would jump in and lest the speaker go all day, quickly offer some affirmation, ‘You know, you’re right … The way you tell it there should be no reason for me to feel stress, anxiety, or in fact anything in the least mentally bothersome – just like the way Kurt Cobain or indeed, any multimillionaire rock star should have no reason to feel depressed.’

‘…Oh yeah, and you’ve got a drum kit in the middle of your lounge,’ they might continue as if they never stopped, ‘I mean how many people can say that?’

‘Yes,’ I might go on, amid this hypothetical intervention, ‘I see your point, but as I was saying, I believe the reason for my chronic recurring anxiety has more to do with what I don’t have, or perhaps what I’ve lost.’

At this stage I imagine this third person might look at me, an expression of bemusement at their brow, as they assess the figure before them: ‘Are you serious?’ they might ask, ‘look at yourself,’ they might say, ‘geez,’ they might stumble as real words evade them, ‘shit,’ they might go forth stumbling across that barren intellectual wasteland that is monosyllabic cuss words, ‘just,’ their face might then contort as again the inability to articulate original thoughts strikes them down, ‘I dunno,’ laying the foundation for an onslaught of hackney, ‘just pull your head in or something…’

I’m just glad it’s Friday.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Ann Zie Tay

Photography by Faw Gat Folniss


Tim Walker’s Wendy

Hornby fast food outlet, Wendy’s, has made a formal application to serve alcoholic beverages with meals.

Unsurprisingly this has outraged a great many public groups; especially those who like to think they know people better than people know themselves.

Riccarton Wigram Community Board chair, Mike Mora, was reported to say: “I haven’t spoken to one person who thinks this is a good idea – in fact everyone is absolutely appalled.” Christchurch’s Salvation Army is also concerned about the possible implications, along with Deputy Mayor Vicki Buck, claiming a fast food restaurant requesting a liquor licence is “a bit weird”.

In their defence though Wendy’s chief executive Danielle Lendich fired back saying the company simply wanted to give guests the opportunity to enjoy a beer with their burger, and it was a way for Wendy’s to “up its game”, which, personally, makes perfect sense.

Look at the New Zealand law surrounding sale of liquor on a public holiday, for example, which maintains the single criterion that in order for an establishment to serve booze on the aforementioned days they must be classified as a ‘restaurant’; thus must serve food.

Obviously Wendy’s does serve food. It is now asking for a licence to serve booze between the hours of 8 a.m. and 11 p.m. – hardly classic binging hours.

It frustrates me that city officials are seemingly of the impression that the public require their constant influence, as though people across New Zealand are not capable of thinking for, or more to the point taking care of, themselves.

Afford Wendy’s Hornby a liquor licence and see what happens – a sudden increase in alcohol-induced workplace injury or pre 9 a.m. traffic incidents; or teenage drunkenness on what will surely be horrifically overpriced bottles of beer?

Not likely.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Boo Sin-Burger

Photography by Wendy Yum

Tim Walker’s Theory XVI

It was while having a, comparatively coordinated, slap on my drums that the other day I was struck with a thought.

This thought, or theory if you will, related, or pertained if you like, to the number of existing drum beats in the world, versus the potential number of drum beats in the world; because logically, it is a finite number.

Sticking with rock music – really the only remaining genre with proper drum beats anyway – a basic drum kit comprises one bass drum, three toms, one snare, and two or three cymbals, including the hi-hat, crash, and the splash cymbals.

That’s seven or eight music-making components within a basic kit; let’s say it’s seven. Now, using a standard, four-beat chord, given that 4 by 7 by 7 is 196, if you were the most boring drummer in the world who only ever beat one of seven drums four times within each chord, there would be a maximum of 196 different beats that you could create.

If however, you were a typical drummer who thrived on making the most creative, mind-blowing beats imaginable, you might wish to introduce into your standard four-beat chord the odd half-beat, drum-roll or, and this is getting pretty technical – particularly for the most boring drummer in the world – a sound overlap or audio-amalgamation, where drums are struck more or less concurrently to produce a blended, or elongated sound.

This kind of irregularity makes my arithmetic suddenly very difficult as timing now becomes a factor; for example, that standard seven component drum kit playing that standard four-beat chord – 4 by 7 by 7 – now becomes 4 by 7 by 7 by as many as 16 (I’m not going to explain that one; you’ll just have to trust me).

Nevertheless that still equals a finite number; a big finite number (and I actually think I should’ve gone 4 by 7 by 7 by 16 then by 16 again, which would have made an even bigger number and anyway, given that I don’t have a calculating device handy hence am doing all this arithmetic in my head as I sit writing this, perhaps you shouldn’t have trusted me after all and instead should have pushed for that explanation) yes, but still a finite number.

That’s the point; that’s the theory. In this world of rock music there in fact is, or are, a finite number of potential drum beats. While I am certain that that number has yet to be reached – it is pretty big after all – I am just as certain that drum beat plagiarism does already exist in the world of rock music.

Curious then that I can claim to have developed, or created – on my standard seven component drum kit no less – as many as five original drum beats.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Fie Knight

Photography by Audie O Beet

Tim Walker’s Steam

After 15 years of restoration the Ab 608 Passchendaele steam locomotive along with its vintage train is set for its maiden South Island tour and as always, it will be leaving behind its plumes of acrid hypocrisy.

Steam trains have always struck me as a peculiar sight in modern New Zealand, especially when one considers the effort that’s been put into cleaning up the nation’s – the world’s – skies.

The name is somewhat deceptive: regarding steam trains it’s not actually the steam that’s the issue; it’s the inordinate quantity of coal burned in order to create that steam; given their primary discharge they probably ought to be called smoke trains, but they’re not are they, they’re called steam trains because everybody loves steam…

The Ab 608 Passchendaele will travel to Invercargill where it will then make its way back up the nation, stopping off at Dunedin, Oamaru, and Christchurch during this almost three week celebratory voyage.

…Approximately one tonne of coal is burned for every hour a steam train is in operation which, thinking of it, makes steam trains a ridiculously impractical means of transportation.

Taking into account efforts of governing bodies, the regulations that have put in place surrounding clean burning fires and such, to reduce Christchurch air pollution; then to have this Ab 608 Passchendaele monstrosity make its way over the land, belching out its millions of dirty log-burners worth of pollution in just a few hours’ of travel, suddenly, all those efforts are effectively negated.

Most people make a point to not mix trash with organic with recycling and yes, nowadays the majority are indeed mindful of their potential ‘carbon footprint’; some do their bit for the nation by driving a hybrid while some have gone totally electric – others choose to ride the rail.

Sure, these New Zealand built steam trains are pieces of historical wonder and granted, they are amazing contraptions that probably do deserve recognition, even celebration but realistically, this is the modern era.

Unnecessary polluting is currently the world’s greatest taboo.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Steim Loco Motif

Photography by Polly U Tonte


Tim Walker’s Semi

Big game on Sunday; biggest game yet, I reckon.

It’ll be an early start for fanatical Kiwi supporters but to witness New Zealand take on South Africa in the 2015 Rugby World Cup semi-final, for most, will be too great, too amazing; too sensational an opportunity to pass up.

South Africa have always been a challenging side; their size, their strength and intense physicality has for years ensured a fierce rivalry with New Zealand and the matches that ensue, invariably spectacular.

As usual I’ve lodged my spread of $1 bets and will be awaiting the game’s lucrative anomalies with anticipation.

It’s gonna be a good one – All Blacks by 12.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Kahn B Bodded

Photography by Levit Shaw-Tei



Tim Walker’s Labour

Labour day Monday.

Yes, Labour weekend tomorrow.

Yeah, word is my father was born on Labour day.

Really..? Some might consider that ironic.

What? Oh yeah, his mum being in labour on Labour day.

Well yes, that too, although I was actually referring to our Labour day baby’s penchant for hard labour.

Oh, yeah, that, but hard labour’s what farmers do.

True enough, but not all farmers are born on Labour day.

Not all farmers are my dad either.

Another good point.

But this year his birthday’s tomorrow, not Labour day.

Yeah, that’ll happen, it’s that whole ‘leap year phenomenon’ thing.

Really, is that what they call it?

That’s what I’m calling it, just now.

Well, Dad’s turning 60 this year.

That is correct.

It’s pretty old.

According to my calculations it’s right on the edge, but still technically middle aged.

Still pretty old though.

Middle aged.

It’s pretty old.

Alright, yes, quite old – almost as old as you’ll be when you’re 60.

What? Nah, oh … What?

I said, you’ll be there one day.

Oh nah, yeah but I’ll never be old old.

Of course not.

Yeah man, 60’s old.

Alright, just be sure to wish him a happy birthday from me.

What? From me or from you..?

I don’t suppose it really matters.

Oh, we’ll do it together then.

Alright then.

Happy birthday, old man.

Nice one.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Leah Bar Deigh

Photography by Bert Day Buoy

Tim Walker’s Cathedral

While the Christchurch rebuild over the years has been steadily progressing, there is one building that remains the centre of dilapidated controversy.

When I heard it had been “…over five years since Christchurch’s devastating quake and the Cathedral is still an eyesore”, my first thought was, ‘Gosh, what a terribly depressing thought…’

My next thought was, ‘Of course if by “devastating quake” they’re referring to the one in February 2011, it’s actually closer to “under five years”, so, you know’.

The reality is though that this is one structure that, although intrinsic to the Christchurch environs, has had little to no rebuild work done to it.

The problem as I currently see it, the problem as I have always seen it, is zealots. These people who hold the Christchurch Cathedral in utmost reverence and only want to see the, comparatively youthful in relation to other historical world churches, structure returned to its former glory, are in fact the same groups of people who have been for (under) five years stymieing the Christchurch Cathedral’s rebuild process.

The other reality is that the aforementioned cathedral, under five years ago, fell beyond the cost of an economically viable reparation job. Since then Christchurch have tried a $5 million disposable cardboard cut-out replacement but still, no significant money has been spent on the Cathedral itself. Christchurch lobbyists have undergone meetings, committees, and referendums related to the Cathedral’s fate – bureaucracy which by now have surely totalled in the vicinity of the millions of dollars – but with no actual progress made.

Christchurch’s religious sector is firm: they want to see the structure rebuilt.

Christchurch’s logical sector is exasperated: they want to start again and use (what’s left of) the insurance pay-out to build a new, a better cathedral.

Christchurch’s religious sector think: it’ll be fine, let the insurance pay-out takes us as far as it’ll go then after that, the good Lord will provide – by which we mean the taxpayer.

Christchurch’s logical sector: as humble atheistic Christchurch homeowners we are not willing to undergo yet another rates increase to pay for the repair of a building that is clearly a write-off and furthermore that we don’t even damn well use, let alone celebrate. (Or something to that effect; I’m really generalising.)

Ultimately the devotees of Christchurch’s cathedral remind me of the Green party: they spend all their energy supporting impractical ideas then the instant sense is put before them, they condemn the notion.

Good luck with your church guys; I refuse to help those who refuse to help themselves.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Kath E Droll

Photography by E Lodgie Cal



Tim Walker’s Theory XV

Less general, more topical; this week’s theory pertains to the ongoing question of whether former New Zealand cricket great, Chris Cairns, is guilty of the charges looming before him.

Is Chris Cairns a match fixer and, by implication, a perjurer?

To perceive Cairns’ situation from afar, his case does appear decidedly weak; the court battle in question seems to have been in progress now for half an eternity. The question therefore: why would the Prosecution show such resolve in convicting a man unless they were certain that he was guilty? Further damning to Cairns’ case is that practically every witness called to the stand is quick to implicate Cairns in this match fixing scandal.

Then there’s bloody old Lou Vincent. He is a confirmed match fixer. He’s also a piss-ant, and he’s queer-looking. He is vehement in his testimony of Cairns’ guilt – but so what, some might say, Vincent’s a dirty cheating liar, and he’s queer-looking.

Every time the media has shown Chris Cairns making his way to court, dapper in his pristine blue suit, his curly locks svelte as he struts across the pavement, his tall physique oozing aplomb from every orifice, he never appears to be under any pressure at all; so I put it to you, how could someone who has influenced the hands of so many then outright lied about it, while on trial no less, look so damned suave?

Just thinking of it though, that’s likely the facade he’s going for – the too cool to be crooked image.

I doubt I’m the first to make the association, but this prolonged court case is in fact remarkably akin to the Lance Armstrong scandal a few years back. For so many years Armstrong was resolved in his denial of cheating; yet for years they pressed him. Finally, although the doping authority could never actually prove it, they managed to hang the charge on him. (Word is he later confessed, I wouldn’t know, I was too disillusioned to notice.)

Similar to that Armstrong case, Cairns seems to know that for as long as he maintains his innocence, technically, hearsay and conjecture notwithstanding, the authorities cannot prove otherwise.

My Theory therefore, is that Chris Cairns is just like Lance Armstrong: he’s guilty, he’s just a very convincing liar.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Dart E Ritton-Lyre

Photography by Mash Fissure