Regular visitors to this site – I’m certain there’s a paradox tied up within those five words – will have noticed my apparent lowering in productivity of late…

Indeed, one would be correct in asserting that my sudden increase from one, two, or three, to six weekly articles without fail, has taken a hit.

…That’s all it is though, an apparent reduction, so get off my case. It’s a bit like saying: ‘Apparently when they built the Leaning Tower of Pisa it was at perfect right angles to the horizon but shit, I mean look at it now, I dunno…’

Actually it’s nothing like that at all but still, please, off my case. I’ve been doing what I do occasionally when not writing/editing/working myself into a ball of stress regarding the ‘Pride Series’ – that’s the cute title I’ve allocated my recent two-but-soon-to-be-three novel sequence. (I use the term ‘recent’ because, believe it or don’t, I’ve been in this position before, with other novel sequences I mean, just that they were never as good as I believe my ‘Pride Series’ to be; nor had they been allocated such a cute collective title.)

In fact I’ve been trying to write short stories.

I used to be good at short stories – says me – then I started writing novels and became all full of myself with arrogance and conceit and delusions of how transcendent my own writing ability was…

What I find most comical about the above sentence is how, in one brief line I’ve managed to perfectly depict Brian Griffon of Family Guy.

…In truth that never happened; probably I made people uncomfortable in the early days with claims of having written the greatest novel the world had ever seen in Shapeshifter – my third attempt – which was only really half true because while I still believe it to be a reasonable novel, in reality the world will likely never see Shapeshifter at all.

Now and again, through the email of a writers’ group I once attended, I come upon an entry into an official short story competition and in fairness, the prize money is usually pretty appealing. The problem is that every other entry I’ve put forward has been either a rapidly adjusted excerpt from some other, decidedly longer story, or if I do write it especially, it’s generally thrown together so quickly that I never hold out much hope of doing any good…

The issue here that I seem to forget is while I consider my own abilities brilliant, most other applicants will be equally passionate, more experienced, better educated, more highly skilled thus better writers than I am.

…Therefore I’m never terribly surprised when I don’t.

Given my current abundance of free time though, fried brain notwithstanding, I decided to put a little effort into this one; the theme ‘A Convincing Lie’ I feel could have been better selected but no, I’m going to give it a nudge anyway.

So that’s what I’ve been doing, I’ve already written one, I feel it was pretty good, I’m going for a second, it’s been hellish, I’ve just been through a classic springtime cold, my brain feels numb, but you know me, that’s how I roll.

Shit I’m just glad it’s Friday.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Shaz Torey

Photography by Lemme Lone

Holding the position of Leader of the Opposition for more than six months seems to have done to Andrew Little what it did to Phil Goff all those years ago.

His desire to elevate and distinguish the Labour party from rivals National, is seeing frequent displays of blind and often illogical dissention, then sometimes, in order to promote and embellish his point, outright lying…

For the record, I omitted David Cunliffe from the paragraph one example because it didn’t take six months in power, Cunfille was always a twat.

…As mentioned in past posts, regarding the youth of New Zealand, Andrew Little’s claims that he has ‘spoken to’ or ‘heard from’ and ‘understands the position of’ after ‘having a sit-down with’, can only be, patently untrue.

I make the aforementioned judgement unequivocally because I happen to know that the majority of ‘New Zealand’s younger generation’ as he affectionately calls them – as though they’re his buddies – dislike the man; the likelihood then of Mr Little ‘sitting alongside’, ‘talking out the issues’, and ‘having a heart-to-heart with’ his beloved ‘younger generation’ (implying many rather than few), ranks on a similar level to Colin Craig spending a sunny afternoon chatting about tablecloth crochet with Black Power.

Andrew Little, in the beginning, much as I wanted to dislike the man, was reasonably likeable; now though, similar to Phil Goff shortly after he came to power, he tries so very hard to condemn his rivals that he ends up coming off desperate and, heaven forbid, needy.

Little recently mocked John Key for admitting that New Zealand did in fact have a number of ‘terror suspects under 24 hour surveillance’; Mr Little maintained that our Prime Minister was ‘scaremongering’ and that this ‘must have been false’ because, regarding New Zealand’s terror alert, as far as he was aware ‘nothing has changed’…

Just quietly, because I am aware of how easily people are offended by this topic and how despite it now being a part of world history I realise that to use it in an example or any kind of comparison might be seen by those who are given to affront as disrespectful but here we go anyway, I wonder how much ‘changed’ in the US on September 7^th, 8^th, 9^th, and 10^th..?

…My point, sir, being Leader of the Opposition party is all well and good and yes, you will have to act like a child with poop in your pants once in a while but come on man, surely, it is not your job to disparage everything that your rival says and does – how are you supposed to know even half the facts about National Security when you’re not in power, anyway?

Come on Andrew Little, you can’t be a piss-ant all your life.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Tahrea A Tuck

Photography by N E Thyme

Driving through town during a recent ‘Christchurch rush hour’, the scene I witnessed was more than enough to eliminate the final skerrick of doubt from a theory that I have been promoting now for some time.

Given that this evidence was not gleaned under official circumstances however, or indeed, through the proper channels thus with correct allowance of unforeseen variables also an objectively comparable constant and all those other pointless statistician-related factors such as a formal study having to involve an overpaid horde of impassive lab-coats or it cannot be considered a study at all, the only thing the aforementioned findings will likely be good for is packing out the next few pages with this lot: the twentieth half-arsed Theory to date.

As so often I seem to do, having neglected to allow the additional quarter hour for an en route fuel stop, I was running perilously close to being late for jiu-jitsu class; then with a half tank of high-octane fuel and a right foot that seemed to have increased in heft by a factor of seven, pulling out with reckless proximity to an oncoming vehicle then reaching an aurally pleasing 6750 rpm in an effort to not antagonise the driver in my rear view, I rejoined the eastward-heading queue of traffic.

Mindful of the 80 kph limit through Rolleston and mindful furthermore that I was at risk of breaching 90, I released acceleration and was overjoyed to burst through the first set of lights after two seconds of orange. This joy was short-lived as, braking heavily, the second set of lights placed one hundred metres after the first, which just happen to change in concurrence with the first, was already red.

It’s fine. Typically nervy and anxious as I admittedly am, I’m not the kind of person to believe there is something to be gained from winding oneself up over languid traffic lights, or even over that ironic force that ensures they’re always the wrong colour, particularly when one has good reason to need them to be the right colour.

It’s odd but some evenings when I’ve headed into town I’ve managed to catch all but two of a possible eight lights; these are ordinarily the occasions when I have time to spare. I’ve already missed one light and, glancing at my watch, time is decidedly not on my side.

Back into it, the drive to Templeton is uneventful. The inexorable snake motors sedately through Templeton’s residential area then cruises right through to the Halswell Junction traffic lights, southwest of Hornby. The line of traffic preceding my car is now immense; around eight cars rest between the lights and me. I glance at my watch. The lights turn green. Far ahead of me I watch the first car move off. I watch the second car do the same. I watch the third car move. The fourth car goes then the fifth and the sixth, and only now do I start moving. The Halswell Junction lights return to red and there’s still one car in front of me.

Eventually we make it into Hornby; I catch the first light but of course, miss the next. The queue before me now is longer than I’ve seen at this Carmen Road intersection. I see the light go green then what seems like five seconds later back to red. Five seconds after that I move up. The light turns green again, and again, it’s back to red before I’ve moved.

Finally I’m through and ambling towards the next one. I approach the Springs Road corner at exactly 60 kph and, holding my breath, willing the light to stay green, breeze through. Onto and around the Sockburn roundabout, as I indicate onto Blenheim Road I check my watch again. “I’m doing alright,” I recall thought/mumbling, “if I can catch Curletts Road I should be good.”

When the Curletts Road lights come into view, to my immense chagrin they’re already green. At this point I’m five hundred metres back with a virtually solid line of cars between the intersection and me; historically if the lights are green when I first sight them, I can be damn sure they’ll be red by the time I reach them.

The traffic seems to be still picking up speed leading to my deduction that the lights have just turned. I stare intently at those Curletts Road traffic lights, as if doing so will hold them in place, and release acceleration; at 45 kph falling in behind the middle line of cars. At this point I’m driving with peripherals, still staring at the green traffic light, expecting it will change at any instant, willing the car in front of me to go faster, expecting the lights to change but pleading they don’t, knowing if we stop here it’ll be another five minutes before we’re moving again, only a hundred metres off now, beginning to feel the elation building inside me, thinking I’m going to make it, thinking that now even if it goes orange I’ll make it through until finally, I am through, and on a green light too.

I check my watch; I reckon I can still make it. I glance in the rear view; over five seconds after passing Curletts Road the lights have finally changed. I can now see my turn-off in the distance; I can see Annex Road. I’m not at all surprised to see the Hanson Lane lights have tripped us up; the Hanson Lane lights have a habit of doing that. I’m not perturbed. They’ll change quickly enough.

Sure enough they’re soon green, I can see cars moving but, on account of the massive queue ahead of me, I’m not. The lights go red. I feel frustration building inside me; now I’m pissed off. If people only moved the instant they could, I’d be through by now.

When I do get through and veer right, in the direction of the green traffic arrow of Annex Road, again, my attempts at a speedy passage are thwarted; there has been a queue of five or six cars waiting to turn down Annex Road but once they have been awarded their arrow, they’ve each taken a half to an entire second to react, meaning that by the time I arrive, the final car has only just begun plodding around the corner…

This week’s theory therefore, relates directly to traffic congestion. If every car moved as soon as they were able then made an effort to travel at the limit – no, not ten Ks over, at the limit – there would be no, or at least hugely reduced, traffic congestion. Think of it: ten cars at a red light, light goes green, first driver takes at least half a second to get moving, the car behind him takes another extended half second, the car behind him another until the eleventh car is waiting stationary for well over five seconds after the light has gone green. The problem as I see it, many people lack the necessary skills of focus and anticipation while driving – I see it at roundabouts all the time where, realistically, if a driver is looking ahead and their approach is properly timed, within reason, there should be no need to ever even stop – it bothers me that these people cannot seem to remain adequately tuned in to their surroundings where, instead of waiting for the car ahead of them to move then delaying their own movements by an additional half second, they could be moving with the preceding vehicle. It’s not dangerous, it’s practical; I’m not about promoting hectic driving habits, simply efficient ones.

…For the record by the time I pulled into the Axis carpark, I was terribly late – only three minutes, yes, but then in my opinion, any late is ‘terribly’ late.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Anne Tisha Pate

Photography by Terry Bleu-Lute

Regarding Prime Minister John Key’s remarks – “…if Labour want to support rapists and murderers…” – leader of the Opposition, Andrew Little is now claiming, “…I’ve spoken to New Zealand’s younger generation and they’ve had enough – they won’t stand for these kinds of remarks…”…

            I always thought that in order for a politician to say that something happened, in the spirit of duelling surely, it needs to have actually happened.

…I mean, I’m not calling Andrew Little a dirty rotten liar per se, but there is no way New Zealand’s younger generation said a thing like that; I am sufficiently familiar with our younger generation to know that while they might well have ‘had enough’ of politics in general in this country, there is absolutely zero chance they were quite so aghast as those idiot politicians are trying to make the public believe they were by our Prime Minister’s adlib candour.

Shit I doubt New Zealand’s younger generation would even take the time to speak to a piss-ant like Mr Little, let alone join in the derision of his number one adversary.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Skell A Ross

Photography by Keer Full Jonky

This time last week I was excited at having published my first ever electronic book, only to find that loaded up as the book was, nobody could actually access it.

I rectified that problem over the coming days but the issues just seemed to keep coming, culminating in a bank error (not in my favour) where, on ringing my beloved Telebank I was told I had significantly less funds than expected with a sizeable, and very important, payment due to come out. Obviously then, reduced to a quivering ball of anxiety, I promptly transferred to my transaction account a sum which I really couldn’t afford to move and only did so because circumstances had become so very dire – or so I thought – until a day later, after panicking myself stupid and losing perhaps a good decade from my life-expectancy plan (but still with no grey hairs, thank you very much), consulting with Telebank to find that while that first account was indeed in deficit, I now had a surplus in my transaction account.

After some gut-wrenching telephone-sleuthing I was able to ascertain that I had in fact always had sufficient funds, and it was simply the bank’s transaction timeline that had gone awry; I guess in a world where money has become intangible to the point of it being displayed as numbers on a computer screen rather than coloured slips of paper in a wallet, this kind of mishap is only to be expected.

What a relief then to last night be able to leave the week’s stresses, anxieties, worries and woes on the jiu-jitsu mat, in the form of half a gallon of perspiration.

I’m just glad it’s Friday.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Bon Kerrer

Photography by Nat En Fiver

Given its origins one might consider it ironic that the term ‘Avast’ is frequently spotted popping up in the corner of one’s eye like a brightly coloured buoy lost at sea.

Avast – an old nautical term meaning ‘stop’ or ‘cease’ – is also the name of the cost-free virus protection software I elected to use, once my beloved Microsoft Security Essentials had become obsolete a few years back.

What better idea could there be, I recall thought/mumbling, than to replace my supposedly outdated software with that of a word which is even more archaic than ‘halt’ or ‘cease’.

As I downloaded the software all those years ago, I remember running through my head the advice I’d been given regarding potential Security Software providers: “Avast’s good – if you don’t mind putting up with a million pop-ups a day…”

While the most I’ve counted in one day is twelve, a recent one I saw did make me chuckle.

Where ordinarily Avast’s pop-ups are simply advising ‘Security Definitions Have Been Updated’ or similar, and other than an encumbered cursor-click really require no effort on my part, of late they’ve become interesting…

I see I’ve referred to the downfall of Microsoft Security Essentials and subsequent rising of Avast! Free Antivirus (the exclamation point’s part of the name, not a typo) as being ‘all those years ago’ although seemingly, according to Avast I mean, it was actually 602 days ago, or at least that’s what the new pop-up offering me a ‘security upgrade’ maintains; mind you it has been maintaining that now for two weeks so, you know.

…This new and ‘interesting’ pop-up claims, given the ‘loyalty’ that I’ve shown Avast (602 days without paying a single cent) I am now entitled to their ‘enhanced protection’ but not only that, if I ‘Claim my Loyalty Reward now’, I’ll ‘SAVE 72%’.

In fairness I don’t know what level of protection I currently have but it seems adequate. Now though Avast are offering me superior protection with a saving of 72%; but 72% on what, I ask.

Oh, I see: it’s 72% less than the original fee Avast would have charged me, had I accepted their deal.

A better deal though, would surely be just to continuing not paying them.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Russ Tan Peace

Photography by Jonah Lomu

Who even knows what number we’re up to anymore? I’m not certain but I think that’s meant to say nineteen.

Anyway, task at hand and all that, of late I have been witness to much talk of the Evolution/Creationism debate.

While the Creationism side maintain that the Evolution side must be wrong because their beloved Theory of Evolution is riddled with holes (which it actually is mainly because all the people who could have given evidence about that era, from that era, long ago perished meaning scientists can only extrapolate, or infer facts), and these gaps in time left by the Theory of Evolution, according to Creationists, indicate that Creationism is the only reasonable explanation for the Origin of Life.

The Evolution side stop short of laughing in the face of the Creationism side before putting forward their myriad examples of the existence of life on Planet Earth 600 million years ago, compounded by clear evidence of an evolutionary process; they accept that the Theory on which they’ve based a lifetime of beliefs, while logical it may be, on account of the above reason regarding multimillion-year-old living souls (also the fact that the Dewey Decimal system, thus accurate records, was not introduced until several centuries later), is not perfect and does in fact present areas of doubt.

Evolution has scientists, thus tangible evidence. Creationism has the Bible which, according to Creationists is pretty much an accurate account of what went on; of course Creationists now encounter a similar issue as the Evolutionists – a dearth of living souls to testify to these aforementioned ‘facts’.

Creationists believe that because the Theory of Evolution is questionable, by default, every living soul on Earth ought to turn their belief systems onto that other major theory: the Theory of Creation.

Evolutionists believe that because the Theory of Creationism is fantasy, logically, sensible people ought to do some scientific research on the matter and see where that leads them.

With both sides having pleaded their case I feel I may now step in with my objective viewpoint. If I could begin by offering an analogy: when two foods are put before someone with the instruction to eat, after tasting one of the foods and finding it undesirable, one wouldn’t immediately assume the other to be desirable, would one?

No, one wouldn’t; that would be short-sighted of one. Disproving one side of an argument doesn’t make the other side right, it just makes that side wrong.

Even so, nobody has conclusively disproved either side of this argument and likely, no one ever will.

If it is to come down to the facts and reality of the situation, obviously, given tales of mystical beings, talking serpents, Immaculate Conception and even reanimation, what reasonable person could accept the Theory of Creationism into their lives?

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Mary N Joseph

Photography by N Simon-Else

Turns out, true to form, I messed up; I didn’t click something, or clicked something wrongly or something…

For one of the questions regarding book marketing, given that I am one person rather than a group of people or company, confusion meant that I foolishly elected for ‘Private’ where I should have gone ‘Public’.

…Anyway, it’s since been remedied. The site is CompletelyNovel, the title is Pride in the Land, the author is Tim Walker and as I have recently discovered, to my immense chagrin, Amazon have nothing to do with it.

Have a go. Dare ya.

Written by me,

This particular piece was not edited at all,

And nor could I manage to upload any photos.

Just like that, it’s done.

Having lost hope in the nation’s major Publishing Houses – originally a reputable triplicate, now an amalgamated duo largely unwilling to chance new authors – I have gone more or less, (more less) solo.

Through the CompletelyNovel website, who apparently do their trading through the Amazon website, following painstaking editing of two manuscripts, which on account of the foolhardy nature of self-editing I almost guarantee will still contain errors, my most recent novel – the one that came after the one I had been posting on my site but has since been so massively adapted that those early ‘chapters’ will be rendered more or less meaningless (mostly more) – is now for sale at a rock-bottom price of, I think (but am not entirely sure), 5 pounds 99 pence which is odd, because I don’t even think it’s a British website…

I decided to upload Pride in the Land (the second one) prior to Pride in the Name (the first one) for the reason that I believe, despite Pride in the Land entering into the story more or less where Pride in the Name leaves off (mostly more but a little less), at a time where half the world is already under North Korean control (cease your fretting, I’m not spoiling it, you learn that in the blurb for Christ’s sake, I think…), as I was saying, I believe Pride in the Land (the second one) is better suited to pose the beginning of the saga, leaving Pride in the Name (the first one) to be released later, I’m thinking after the sequel, Pride in the State is released, as a prequel.

…They did offer the alternative of USD but try as I might I couldn’t seem to activate that function; truth be told, I had extreme difficulty activating many of the functions, including uploading the manuscript, uploading a cover design and ultimately, managing basic navigation of their Goddamned site.

Regardless, my debut novel is now for sale. As mentioned try looking for it, I think (but don’t really know given that I’ve not looked for it myself, also the fact that I have only ever bought novels second-hand and in paper form thus know little to nothing about online book sales), at Amazon or failing that CompletelyNovel but no, I’m pretty sure you’d go directly through Amazon.

It’s called Pride in the Land, it’s by Tim Walker, and the cover should be an awesome picture of a beautiful orange sunrise.

Get into it. Buy copies for everyone you know, even buy a few spares for after.

So shameless.

Promotion by Tim Walker

Edited by Full Hardy

Photography by Orin G Son-Rise

If a child-sex-offender and a man-slaughterer have in the past been jailed for their respective offences, does that make them currently venerable people?

Furthermore, if a man and by implication a party of people was then emphatic in their support of the liberation of the above, does that make them venerable people?

What about if another man made negative assertions using this aforementioned supporting party’s intentions as fuel for his derision, would that make him any less of a venerable person?

If that venerable man’s tirade of derision was purported to result in the affront of some members of that supporting party, should that man then be forced into a retraction of his statement?

Should that venerable man be sympathetic to the fact that those members of the supporting party misconstrued his assertions, ultimately misunderstanding his words?

Should that venerable man be forced to apologise to members of the support party, effectively saying he was wrong in his meaning?

Should that venerable man be forced to embrace the actions of New Zealand’s offenders – past or present – based on nothing more than political popularity?

Should words unspoken hold as much strength as those actually heard?

Should ‘implied’ mean the same as ‘said’?

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Lai Boor Wynn-Jyrs

Photography by Polly Ticks