Monthly Archives: October 2015

Tim Walker’s Terror

Terrorist groups are taking over the world.

Or so it might seem; to look around New Zealand at the moment the threat of terror is an undeniable and indeed, an ominous presence – from unidentified bags in public places to threatening phone calls in Government offices as well as online threats, in whatever form it seems, terrorism has reached the far south.

It all began soon after the turn of the 21st century, 9-11 2001, with hitherto unknown-to-the-rest-of-the-world terrorists initiating destruction of some of the USA’s most recognisable structures; thus began the War on Terror.

Following the US attack came a number of less substantial, more targeted attacks throughout northern Africa, along with the horrific 2005 attack on London’s underground train system, among others. More recently Australia has found itself the target of numerous terror sieges including the 2014 Sydney attacks, along with Australian Police’s uncovering and thwarting of a number of further terror plots.

This most recent scare at Otago University was merely an example of how easily the threat of terror can be introduced into the lives of unassuming Kiwis – an online threat which only a few years ago might have been dismissed as farcical is now means for concern.

Taliban, Al-Qaeda, Al-Shabaab, Boko Haram, ISIS, BIFF, are just some of the world’s known terror groups – all fighting for a cause, all who believe they’re serving their god; yet none with any real sense of humanity.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Noah Low-Jack

Photography by Terry Hist

Tim Walker’s Theory XIII

I don’t agree with the age-old belief that genetics are the reason obese parents generally have obese children.

My theory is that it is the lessons passed down, the perceptions inherited and moreover, the habits instilled that truly influence the way a growing child deals with life.

Really there are only two habits an obese parent needs to halt in order to break this cycle: eating habits and exercise habits.

Generally a larger-than-life person will possess horrendous examples of both the aforementioned life skills. Regarding eating habits, I disagree with the belief that it is necessary to rigorously regulate the kinds of food going in; dieting is shit. Eat everything, just eat it in moderation and above all, don’t eat more than you need. That is the key. Coupled with good exercise habits – around half an hour of activity a day – breaking that hereditary cycle of fatness shouldn’t be too difficult.

The problem I believe is that children see their obese parents feeding themselves chocolates, biscuits, cakes and the like, and of course, that’s the image they perceive to be acceptable; hence the cycle continues.

There is no dispute that some are born with better constitutions, faster metabolisms thus superior abilities to burn fat before it adheres to their muscles than others; those with sluggish metabolisms simply require less food than their frantic counterparts. Why is there any confusion with that; for God’s sake, why would anyone eat unless they were hungry?

Oh that’s right; larger people typically eat for pleasure while smaller people eat for sustenance.

That is genetics, yes; tell me then, how is it that a relatively slim mother and father who have seemingly adhered to a life of good eating/exercise habits, can propagate a morbidly obese daughter?

Individually adopted eating habits, that’s how. This girl eats like you would not believe. I have watched her and she must put away as many calories in one meal as I would ingest over an entire day and given my various physical endeavours, I tend to require a rather high calorie count. This girl does nothing particularly energetic. This is why, and only why, she is currently twice the size that she would otherwise be.

Genetics do play a part in our progeny’s body shape, but I believe it is far from a defining factor; it has to do with the habits, that’s all.

This week’s theory therefore can be concluded in one snappy line: good eating and exercise habits will always supersede genetics.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by B Queath-Body

Photography by E Ting/X Scyze Hubbice

 

 

 

Tim Walker’s Bermuda

For as long as I can recall the fable of the Bermuda Triangle and its supposed ability to vanish objects, has been among the world’s best.

Contributing to this intrigue, recently a cargo ship with 33 passengers did just that.

There was a hurricane involved so this disappearance wasn’t entirely the Triangle’s doing, nevertheless when El Faro sailed into Joaquin, just off Crooked Island in the Bahamas, she failed to sail out again.

Flotsam from the 240 metre cargo ship has been found scattered across more than 300 square kilometres, but no sign of the vessel herself.

Prompts the questions: did Joaquin blow El Faro so far off course that her crew lost contact with land and if so, where are they now?

Did Joaquin capsize and scuttle El Faro, where the ocean-going behemoth along with her crew and cargo is now resting on the ocean floor?

Or, like the myriad other vessels and aircraft which have over time been lost amid this mythical setting, are El Faro and her 33-man crew now simply, gone?

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Wynn D Day

Photography by Gunn Burger

Tim Walker’s Stats

So who’s gonna win the cup do ya reckon?

The Webb Ellis Trophy, you mean..?

Yeah, the World Cup – who’s gonna win?

Well not England, anyway.

Oh yeah, they lost.

Twice – to Wales and to Australia.

Yeah, and apparently they’re the only team to be hosting it and then to be out of it before even the quarters…

Yes, similar to how Jonah Lomu is the only player to have ever scored fifteen tries in a Rugby World Cup.

Oh yeah, and he scored the most points too…

Really, I had a feeling that was Jonny Wilkinson..?

Oh yeah, yeah but Lomu went the furtherest.

Ah … Yes, alright, Jonah Lomu does hold the record for the most metres covered in a Rugby World Cup –

Yeah, told ya, he went the furtherest.

Dude, either he went the furthest or he went the farthest, he did not go the furtherest, alright?

Oh … He went pretty far though, like, over a kilometre – it’s pretty far.

Very far, hence farthest … Hey, I might be asking the wrong person here but don’t you find it idiotic the way these Rugby World Cup tournament organisers/promoters/media commentators seem to find stats on practically anything?

What, you mean like who won?

No, I would consider that quite a reasonably statistic, no I mean more pointless and obscure stats such as … Well that one you said about England being the first host team to be eliminated before the quarter finals – do you not find that asinine?

Ah, I dunno.

Well it’s like, I’m hearing a lot of these stats and just thinking, ‘Yeah but so what?’ I mean, you’d have to agree that many of these figures and game stats they put across are trivial..?

Ah, I dunno.

It’s as if the commentators feel they need more to talk about, more comparisons to make and such, so they’ve come up with these pointless little factoids like, ‘If New Zealand win this Rugby World Cup they’ll be the first nation to win it in consecutive years’, which in my opinion is an utterly pointless stat but of course they couldn’t say ‘…the first team to win it twice’, because that was Australia in ’91 then again in ’99, but if Australia had won it in ’91 and ’95, thus back to back, that silly fact-finding team would have had to dig up something else like, perhaps, ‘If New Zealand win this Rugby World Cup they’ll be the first team to have won it twice while playing both times with the current most capped player in international rugby’, or something equally long-winded and daft.

Ah, yeah, prob’ly.

Yeah, I might go and talk to someone else.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Bic T Bach

Photography by Stupe Ed Stass

 

Tim Walker’s Hunting

New Zealand enjoys a rich culture of hunting game – pigs, deer, ourselves…

Even with all the publicity regarding firearm safety, each year, a number of hunters are still being shot by members of their own parties; then with every occurrence of the aforementioned mishap we hear pleas from bereaved family and friends about how easily avoidable such an incident would have been and how proper target identification is paramount in the sport of hunting or worse, how every hunter who enters the bush already knows this very fact.

…Whatever a hunter calls it – adrenalin rush, stag fever, itchy finger – realistically, it’s this overwhelming compulsion to discharge a weapon upon an apparent target that kills people.

As the patch of contrasting texture/colour/movement takes its place within the rifleman’s sights all other thoughts are expunged. The excitement of anticipation has caused the brain to become drunk on adrenalin, and as the trigger is squeezed myriad endorphins contribute to this ecstasy.

It’s here, now, that the trouble begins. The gunman can tell by the sound that the bullet has entered flesh. He knows his target has gone down but the one thing, now the adrenalin has subsided, he’s now querying – exactly what did he just shoot?

That’s the fact of it. No matter how much gun safety a hunter learns; no matter how sensible he usually is with a gun, when it comes to that briefest of moments, the heartbeat between life and death, any amount of training amounts to nothing.

Hunting is a dangerous sport. A group or, taking into account possible poachers or other trespassers, groups of excitable huntsmen stealthily making their way through largely unknown territory, often with nobody truly knowing how many people fill the surrounding area; sometimes not even knowing the location of your own party…

Hunting is a dangerous sport. Hunters are aware of this. When they embark on a hunt they do so knowing the risk. They do it anyway. They do it for the love of it; fair to say hunting is to sport what forestry is to employment.

…It’s deadly.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Dee R Death

Photography by Manny Hunter

 

Tim Walker’s Dateless III

Having attempted to draw the young woman off track with a brilliant non sequitur, and failing, the question remained: Why had I gone through life without a least one prolonged interlude with the fairer sex?

“Alright, in the beginning, after school but before now I mean, from the ages of, say, eighteen to twenty-four, for whatever reason, and as much as they appeared to love being my friend, simply, they didn’t want a bar of me in the intimate or, romantic sense.”

“What – why not?”

“Gosh, well, you’d have to ask them, Jenny.”

“Nah, seriously, you’re a good looking guy, there’s no reason I can see why anyone wouldn’t want to go out with you.”

“I appreciate that but like I said, you can’t base everything on outward appearances.”

“Yeah but that’s exactly what you do do for a first date..?”

“Yes, that’s a good point,” I conceded “I guess then, I dunno, must be that everyone around where I live already know me thus knows of my shit, and those I meet by chance, for whatever reason, don’t seem willing to give me a chance.”

“So, what,” she said with a smirk “are you an absolute shithead – is that why no one likes you?”

“I don’t think so,” I said reciprocating the half-grin, “I think it’s more that people are put off by what I am.”

“So what are you – a fucking weirdo?” the smirk grew to a full size grin.

“Perhaps – as I mentioned before, I am the result of some pretty severe brain trauma.”

“Oh-h,” a look of relief came over her face, “that’s right … Is that all though – like, I thought it was gonna something big like a lopsided nut-sack or something.”

“Shit … Is that classed as big?”

“I dunno, how big are they?”

“Oh, you’re brilliant,” I said, releasing an overdue burst of laughter, “although in fairness, the injury was reasonably big.”

“Like, how big?”

“Like, nine days in a coma big, fourteen in ICU big, few months in hospital big…”

“So pretty big then?”

“Yeah, as I mentioned, it messed up my nervous system pretty bad.”

“But apart from that you’re alright..?”

“Apart from spasmodic limbs that never act quite the same for two days running, shit man, I’m fucking fantastic.”

“So why don’t girls like you?”

“You’re one of them, you tell me.”

“I dunno, I mean, you are pretty intense, like, you’re direct, you know, you’re…”

“I don’t fuck around and I say what I mean?”

“Yeah, that … I guess that could be intimidating.”

“Are you intimidated by me?”

“No, but I haven’t known you that long – I’m still withholding judgement.”

“Good point – you know, we’re into some pretty deep shit for two people who only recently met each other.”

“True dat.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What – why not?”

“Because it’s daft.”

“What, you mean like still using the word ‘daft’?”

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Chance Mei Ting

Photography by Daft Punk