New Website: therealjoeboon.com

Hi all, I have decided to go with the greater customisation available through an official website, built with wordpress.

The contents of this blog have been imported into my new site, so you will lose nothing by going over there. It means that I can do more than I can here. So please head over to therealjoeboon.com and continue to enjoy lively commentary, political news and information, and film and book reviews.

Cheers!

Sin City, A Dame to Kill For (REVIEW)

I watched the first Sin City on my Ipod video back in 2006, and even on the tiny screen with unacceptably low resolution (by contemporary standards) I was utterly enthralled. The long awaited sequel has been released ten years after the original, and I was apprehensive as to its promise. The attempts by sequels to both relive and better the glories of the initial product have so often failed that its remarkable that the studios remain committed to doing them.

A Dame to Kill For is not better than the original film. In fact I would venture to say that Sin City in 2004 had a much more revolutionary impact. It was among the first live action films to be entirely shot before a green screen, and prepared audiences for further acclaimed Graphic Novel adaptations like 300, and Watchmen. That there were also poorly received flops like The Spirit says little more than the genre is subject to the same commercial risks as more mainstream genres.

Sin City seemed to come out of nowhere. The stylisation of the cinematography (in particular the famous colour-pass technique) resurrected the 'film-noir' sub-genre from long term obscurity, and the quality of the characters -- not to mention the actors behind them -- gave the film a raw power to which no amount of b movie action sequences can match. Playing Marv reinvigorated Micky Rourke's career, which had languished in the 90s with action flops and a underwhelming segway into boxing. The latter left him with a botched facial reconstruction and an empty bank account. With Marv he returned to top of audiences demand, which is evident in A Dame to Kill For as his role was inflated by being a crowd favourite. He is fantastic in this film though, despite not really having his own story.

I'm not going to try and go through the whole cast, as I know that online film reviewers can often commit the sin of capitalising on the lack of an editor -- the best use for such reviews is to induce sleep. But deserving a special mention is Jessica Alba, who seems untouched by the last decade and does a good job as Nancy struggling to accept the suicide of John Hardigan (Bruce Willis) and obsessed with vengence. Powers Boothe is even better this time as Senator Roarke, understandably so as he really only had one scene in the first movie. This time he is the main villain after Eva Green's eponymous dame. They both are convincing 'heavies' and though Eva is as frequently topless as she is fully clothed, I am not going to complain.

Josh Brolin takes on the character of Dwight McCarthy who was played by Clive Owen in Sin City. He does a good, solid job, but I can't deny that I miss the more psychological Owen. The sinister chauffeur and master at inflicting pain Manute is played by Dennis Haysbert, who replaces the late Michael Clark Duncan. Haysbert gives his character a tad more depth as to his motivations and background, but Manute remains a rather mysterious figure.

Almost finally I want to say that Joseph Gordon-Levitt is just as watchable as you might expect. He plays the interminably lucky gambler and 'city-slicker' Johnny. His card skills are brilliant, and his story has a fair bit of emotional power. 

The women of A Dame to Kill For carry the film and give it the emotional depth needed to equal the previous instalment. The one in particular I want to mention is the 20 year old Julia Garner who plays Marcy. She is one of the girls working in Katy's saloon and accompanies Johnny on his gambling spree. Garner seems to have walked out of cinemas golden age. She has a timeless beauty and curly hair that reminds me a little of Shirley Temple. But to trawl deeper than the cosmetic, Garner has an authentic presence, there is not a hint of falseness to her character, and Marcy is fully a part of the sinister world of Sin City, while being a naive and innocent part. Garner's career is still in its early stages but she has been in a few other films already, including a starring role in Jim Mickle's We Are What We Are. Watch out for Julia Garner, she is going to go far. 

Julia Garner

Capricious Minds

George W. Bush has been criticised heavily for taking the United States to an open ended war in Iraq. The joint resolution which was supported and then regretted by the likes of Hillary Clinton and John Kerry (Barrack Obama was saved by not being elected to the senate until 2004) passed in October 2002. It was employed by President Bush to authorise the invasion in March 2003 and subsequent occupation which officially lasted until 2011. 

The case I have often heard from pacifists, feckless liberals, and people possessed with anti-american spite; is that blank checks of the kind from 2002 enable powerful nations to play god in antique lands. In a general way this is a correct and valuable lesson. And the mistakes in prosecution of the war in Iraq are well attested to. But the critics overstep when they argue that getting embroiled in another conflict in Mesopotamia will have the same outcome as before.

Hesitancy to oppose the Islamic State (which is not a perversion of Islam, but rather a nihilistic interpretation of it) presumes that the people of Iraq are not worth defending. Or at least their value as fellow human beings does not outweigh our own suspicions of the American war machine. This luxurious position (since it cannot be said of those nearer the shells and beheadings and rapes) is cautious, and sensible in a self-serving way. But it is morally indefensible.

With the wide angle lens of history we can deduce that Iraq has been a place of instability and often rancid fear for decades. For the last twenty-five the United States of America has played an active part, and were it to mobilise effectively the new threat of ISIS would quickly shrivel. The difficulty is that the domestic (and now we can definitely say global) public have long had an irritable digestive system for wars abroad. Indochina (including the two Vietnam wars 1954-1975) permanently upset the stomach, for which we can thank the likes of Henry Kissenger for adding chronic acid reflux.

If public opinion was to stabilise for long enough to carry out a thorough engagement things might be a hell of a lot more peaceful. But Kissenger incarnates; those without conscience, with a narcissistic desire for credit and praise are with us still and have to be guarded against. How then to proceed? A good start would be to know your enemy, and to learn who cannot be tolerated to continue existing for the irredeemable damage they do to their fellow humans.

A war against ISIS with boots on the ground may be worth fighting by this logic. I am no soldier, and I cannot write with the same strength as one who could carry these principles into the theatre of war. But inasmuch as I can I will stick by the people of Iraq, and not subject them to the evil of capricious minds. There is a humanism at work here, it defies the us and them understanding and embraces the logic that we are all people worth a damn, and we have been involved in each others lives far to long to pull back now.     

No Votes Behind the Left

The resignation of David Cunliffe as leader of the Labour Party yesterday means another full leadership contest will get under way in the coming weeks.

Resigning was apparently not Cunliffe's preferred option for triggering such a fight. He wanted to force the Labour caucus to hold a vote of no-confidence in him -- presumably to drive his enemies out into the open. Instead as has been well reported the caucus has not cooperated and has elected Chris Hipkins (a known Cunliffe critic), and Carmel Sepeloni as senior and junior whip respectively.

This indicates that the majority of caucus is not behind David Cunliffe, and the undisguised anger shown by David Shearer and David Parker is further proof of that. Labour is heading into its darkest and most painful period since the late 1980s. There is no avoiding a massive blood-letting, nor would it be desirable to avoid it. 

Opinions differ on who should go. If Cunliffe is re-elected he will swiftly purge the ABCs (Anyone But Cunliffe faction) which would spell the end for Trevor Mallard, Phil Goff, Annette King, and Clayton Cosgrove. The difficulty with those four is they are political survivors, Goff was first elected in 1981 and was a minister in the Lange/Palmer/Moore and Clark cabinets. Cosgrove has the most untenable position being a list MP, and he could be purged rather easily. Mallard, Goff, and King are long sitting electorate MPs who thus enjoy more job security. They've enjoyed it too long. Being an MP isn't a job for life, and Labour desperately needs some new blood. They should be looking at who might be in a position to succeed them in 2017 (if not before) and grooming those candidates.

However, if Cunliffe wins back his crown it is not certain that the ABCs will cooperate in such fashion. Furthermore, I don't believe that purging the party of David Cunliffe's enemies will deliver an eventual Labour Government. There is no mass working class movement joined at the point of production that is big enough to be a serious force in politics. It died before most of my generation was born. The nostalgic remnants which characterize Labour under Cunliffe insisted on carting their baggage on the campaign trail. Dissent was disallowed. 

The dirty politics of the right has temporarily obscured the ruthless behaviour of the left. Offering an unorthodox view can lead to a torrent of abuse, or condescending dismissal of one's point. I personally find the latter worse, which is why my foray as a student into VicLabour (the Victoria University branch of Young Labour) fizzled out after a few wretched meetings. I still get calls and emails from them, but often-times prefer the company of those on the right. A clash of opposites -- the dialectical method -- is what I seek.

I do not support David Cunliffe. I had argued that he could maintain his position in the face of defeat on September 20 if Labour got at least 30% of the party vote. It would be disingenuous to go back on that. But the Labour Party needs more than a leadership contest, it needs more than a debate over it's future. Grant Robertson has announced that he will stand for the leadership. The media reported that he has promised to 'stop the bleeding'. He shouldn't try to plug a mortal wound. If he's going to take the reigns the party as we know it has to die. He has the skills to build it anew, and ensure that it's soul remains intact.

Having said that, there is merit in the statements by David Shearer that the leadership contest should be delayed until the Party has gone through a formal review of the general election. This would allow greater perspective to be gained with the passage of a little time. Blaming Kim Dotcom, or Nicky Hager, or the voters themselves for making the wrong choice is both petty and ridiculous. 

Take a leaf from Tony Blair?

 

Force Majeure, Review NZIFF

Yes, yes, this is two weeks late and the NZIFF was done with last Sunday, but here is one of my final reviews.

I saw In the Courtyard directly before this, but cannot bring myself to punch out a half decent review. It wasn't bad, merely overshadowed by the raw power of Force Majeure.

'Force majeure' is a legal term describing 'an act of God'. It refers to natural disasters and the like and is often a clause in contracts etc. 

A young married couple take their two children to a luxury ski resort in France, where the simple act of the father running away and abandoning his panicking family in the face of an avalanche. I am being savagely terse here, and I hope the reduction of the plot into a sentence doesn't give the impression that there is little in the film. That is plainly wrong. Force Majeure explores what happens when the survival instinct forces the ego to temporarily disappear, and it takes it's time to work through the implications.

For anyone studying film this is a brilliant example of psychoanalytical cinema, and a very accessible one. While I am sure a reading of Jaques Lacan (a French psychoanalyst who wrote extensively on film) would uncover so much more, thankfully Force Majeure proves that it isn't necessary to be so high brow. I say that because I tried reading Lacan at University and couldn't understand a bloody thing. French academics are renowned for being so opaque they can't even read each other.

Film psychoanalysis is generally on the same wavelength as feminist film theory -- my favourite mode of critique. Force Majeure investigates the masculine subconscious which is denied by the husband's ego, so he denies that he fled his family in the face of the avalanche and that denial causes his wife to lose all faith in him. I haven't written spoiler alert yet because I'm really only regurgitating the bits of narrative explained in the films marketing.

The setting is what you would expect of alpine France. Snow buried mountain peaks in the background of most shots, a conspicuously clean hotel which juxtaposes with the emotional chaos playing out within the characters. The avalanche was 'controlled', and though frightening for the characters it was ultimately harmless. Loud, rumbling booms sound frequently, obviously they are part of the system of provoking small avalanches to guard against the possibility of a big one sweeping over the resort. Metaphorical perhaps, symbolizing the vital safety valve required in relationships. Almost as frequent are the opening bars of Winter from Vivaldi's Four Seasons. The combination of these partnered with the stark silence that reigns over much of the rest of the film reminded me of The Shining. And the themes are linked, however the main difference is that the events of The Shining were very particular to the characters in that film. In Force Majeure there is the palpable sense that this could happen (and probably does) to any family.

Election 2014

After last nights result I realise that my pre-election day cartoon was off the mark, but perhaps amusingly naive. Palmerston North has re-elected Labour's Iain Lees-Galloway for the third time. On the party vote things were clear-cut. National's slightly increased total vote is not a land-slide, and Labour's depreciation from 27 to 24.5 percent hardly makes a rout. But the media are trumpeting superlatives and clichés, and TV3s Lisa Owen has kept on with her nasty barrage directed at Labour interviewees while paying no heed of what the are actually saying. She would merit an award for worst media journalism if their weren't so many other claimants. (I watched TV3s coverage because I couldn't stay on TVONE without swearing loudly at Mike Hosking, and my beloved Aunt was present.) 

Lisa Owen

Owen's technique -- though not just hers -- is to ask a question of the interviewee and interrupt them mid-stream with a direct contradiction. The interviewee keeps their guard up because of that and Lisa gets nowhere in terms of informative answers to her ham-handed questions.  Overall, I think the atmosphere she creates is sour, and that is true for much of the NZ political journalists. But unlike Patrick Gower, the Espiner's, Susan Wood, Duncan Garner, and even Paul Henry; Lisa doesn't seem capable of turning it off -- even for a little while.

It was sad to see Hone Harawira expelled from Te Tai Tokerau, and the Internet-MANA experiment fail so completely. But the hard lessons to learn must now be learned. Radical politics do not succeed in moving large sections of the electorate in a time of quiet stability. They have to be restrained; I don't mean hidden, nor repudiated. They simply cannot be permitted to dominate the brand.

On the subject of branding it is crucial to get control over the message and guide its delivery via the media, and the internet. Yes I am referring to 'spin'. Which is propaganda by another name. It is the foul smelling, shadowy environment of blogging, leaking, bending the truth, and acting without mercy. It is immoral, and reprehensible. John Key has managed with profound success to remain (at least in appearance) to be above his parties blunt overuse of vindictive propaganda. He is not in fact quite so angelic in his celebrated occupancy of some higher celestial plane, but he still only knows what he strictly needs to, rather than being at the centre of control.   

The opposition parties (I refuse to call them a left bloc because that is both disingenuous and a cliché) need to get dirty. By this I mean that if the Green Party wants to become the main opposition party then they need to build a stronger propaganda machine. Crucially this has to be kept apart from caucus, and especially the party leadership. It should not be a clone of National's arrangement with Whale Oil, Kiwiblog, various lobbyists, journalists, and bloggers. That system has flaws which are starting to be exploited. But the Greens should start brainstorming. 

Labour badly needs to put more crackle and fizz into its machine -- but first should deal with the matter of what it stands for. Is it the party of new-left progressives like David Cunliffe, or of quasi-conservative realists like Kelvin Davis? An arrangement to better represent the divergent factions of the party -- ideally behind a leader who is not of any particular -- could work. If the wider party membership can get on board too then a stable foundation will have been laid. A big problem in the last six years has been that Phil Goff, David Shearer, and David Cunliffe had to keep looking over their shoulders. But to be honest I think it would be more efficient for Cunliffe to remain leader while presiding over the building of a robust spin machine. That way it would be entirely separated from a new leader. 

The challenge for National is outliving John Key, and the ongoing ramifications from the skirt being lifted on their spin machine. The worst propaganda is the stuff that is easily recognised, and they'll be in trouble if they don't adapt their strategy. As of today they can expect 61 seats out of 121 in the next parliament with 48 percent of the party vote. Hardly the absolute majority the Sunday Star-Times was honking on about (absolute majority implies a majority of actual votes cast) -- it is a bare majority of seats that could disappear with the special votes. I do not wish to appear a sore loser, and I say that National have had a stunning victory. I just mean that it is a weakness if the feeling of supremacy overwhelms the hawkish minds in caucus.  



  

A last bleat

There should never be such a thing as a free lunch for a political leader. Shorten the leash New Zealand.

Well my goal for seeing twenty films at the film festival has not quite been matched by reality as the festival finishes on Sunday and so far I have only seen seven. That is what happens when such things clash with an election campaign clashing with the screenings, but I have another couple of reviews to post tomorrow, and will manage a few more this weekend.

The New Zealand general election is a day away, while the Scottish independence referendum is unfolding as I write. On the latter topic I have sympathy for the historical significance for the United Kingdom, but I cannot quite satisfy myself that that is reason enough to vote no. Independence is a leap into the unknown, and although there has been much in the way of scaremongering I do believe the Scots are more than capable of standing apart.

The NZ election is the reason for my hurried scribbling right now because we are in that existential zone of quiet inertia before the fall. Where we are going to land is not certain, although the impact will hurt regardless. 

The newspapers continue to batter round their clichés of how this election has been the dirtiest and messiest in memory (seriously, can no-one recall 1996, 2002, 2005?), genuine concern about the capabilities and practices of spy agencies in NZ get dismissed with vaguely racist and clearly second-hand bather about the 'imposturous' Kim Dotcom. 

Meanwhile the political press appears to have largely given up on the real possibility of a change in government for the sake of conveniently being able to claim that they were right. Whenever I am asked 'who is going to win?' I don't feel buoyed by the invitation to give my soothsayers opinion from observing the entrails of politics, rather I feel a bit disheartened that so many people have missed the point. You decide who wins. By taking part in the hard won franchise and affirming the perhaps laughable principle that the sovereign power of parliament is transferred from the people by means of voting -- you step beyond cynicism and towards a better society.

My conclusion from this campaign is that while we always need better politicians, first we need to be better citizens. Revelations of ministerial collusion in underhand political attacks should enrage everyone. A proposal put forward by GCSB to allow them to tap the undersea internet cable while the government pushes through legislation to clarify their powers should never have been suppressed, and when it was finally admitted the citizenry should have torn at the system and demanded the resignation of the PM. Instead I see swathes of the public tucked up ready to go back to sleep as the balloons fall on Saturday night. 

The Mule, Review NZIFF

Directed by Angus Sampson, and Tony Mahony, The Mule is an Australian film set in 1983. It follows Ray Jenkins(played by Angus Sampson), a simple minded television repairman living with his blue collar parents in Melbourne.

To tersely summarize (and thus avoid spoilers) he is hoodwinked to act as a drugs mule carrying a kilogram of heroin divided into twenty condoms -- which he swallows. Due to his nerves and bizarre behaviour at the airport he is stopped and questioned by customs officials.

The two federal police officers (one played brilliantly by Hugo Weaving) take him away on suspicion of transporting narcotics. He refuses to allow doctors to perform an x-ray of his stomach and the police take him to a hotel. By law they can keep him for twelve days without charge in order to recover the drugs once nature has taken its course. Ray is stubborn though -- and made further obstinate when the offices teat him roughly. His bowels do not move.

The meat of the film is the struggle between Ray and the officers which takes place in the hotel room. They try to induce him to defecate by applying the good cop bad cop routine, until it proves fruitless (or should I say shitless?) Ray refuses to excrete the globs of heroin bubbling away in his guts, and gets increasingly sicker as a result. On his side is a pretty young blond female lawyer -- who is appalled at the tactics employed by the police and fights for Ray despite knowing that he is indeed guilty of drugs trafficking. 

Her role is somewhat superfluous beyond providing a voice of conscience in a chorus of the corrupt. She is also one of two female supporting characters --the other being Ray's mother -- and is the only young female character. Perhaps she represents Australia's bright future, certainly in this light her remarks on the arbitrary/ironic nature of the yachting craze that has gripped the nation (and the male characters) are vindicated in the present time (Australian yachting? Dreaming).

In a film that deals with the criminal bowels of suburban Melbourne in the 1980s, shit is of course used as a motif. It is used viscerally in the hotel scene where Ray has to decide what to do with the messy drug globs once they have started circumventing his will and pop out automatically. That scene is grotesque, frighteningly realistic (at least I think so), and provides the narrative turn where Ray starts to exert himself. 

Certainly The Mule is at its heart a story about standing up for yourself. Ray is simple minded and trusting, but he has an iron will that others see and often try to break -- which they did up until Ray made a simple decision for himself. I can't say that this is my favourite film of the festival so far, but it certainly made me think and it re-established Australia in my mind as masters of black comedy. I could go on and write about the other characters and actors and perhaps I should, but since this is a review and not a piece of film criticism (there is a big difference) I will leave it there. If you get a chance to see The Mule I do recommend it, just be careful what you eat during it.

'Two Days, One Night -- Review NZIFF

'Two Days, One Night' or 'Deux Jours, une nuit' in French, stars Marion Cotillard as Sandra, an employee at a solar panel manufacturing company who is fighting to keep her job. The basic plotline is (spoiler alert) that Sandra had a depressive breakdown sometime previously, now she has returned to work only for her boss to have scheduled a vote by her colleagues to choose between their annual bonuses and Sandra being layed off. 

The Friday vote went in favour of the bonuses and the film starts with Sandra reacting at home. Due to the efforts of a supportive co-worker the executive manager agrees to schedule another vote -- this time by secret ballot -- on Monday, noting that the supervisor (his specific position is never made clear) Jean-Marc may have been intimidating the employees into voting against Sandra. The stage is thus set for the struggle between Sandra, the hearts and minds of her co-workers, and her own fragile mental state. She remains reliant on anti-depressants.

Two Days, One Night is full of ironies. First there is the fact that Sandra is quite honestly terrified of losing her job because it would mean having to go on welfare. There is never a hint that the family would be out on the street in abject poverty. The safety net is there and yet not a comfort -- Sandra would literally rather die than be on the dole. A second irony is the way bonuses are spoken about. Repeatedly when asked to support Sandra the co-workers say "I can't lose my bonus!" As if you can lose something before having attained it. The bonuses seem to affect people personally, they have built an expectation that says they shall get that extra money and they've already spent it long before getting it. In a sense this sounds a bit like the criticisms of banking on credit. Spending money you don't have today restricts you tomorrow. 

The moral struggle is evident. One co-worker bursts into tears as soon as Sandra asks for his support and assures her that he will give it. She was kind to him when he first started in the job and is distraught that their boss pressured him to vote no. I don't want to go to far in describing these things for fear of ruining your experience, but I think my point is made.

Ultimately a major theme of this film is the power that people have to overcome the dehumanising effects of capitalism by seeing each other with the redeeming gaze of empathy. Some co-workers try to avoid Sandra when they know she is coming. They are on guard because they know their conscience will get the better of their greed if they allow themselves to see Sandra as she is. For her part Sandra does give up a few times, and is constantly plagued with doubt. Her resolution (spoiler alert again) is in managing to get eight of the sixteen employees to vote in her favour. Then, as she required a majority, she rejects the managers offer to bring her back in return for not renewing the fixed contract of one of the guys that voted for her. She walks out with her head held high, secure in the knowledge that she did all she could to keep the job. 

A fine film, and critically acclaimed it recently received the Sydney Film Prize at the Sydney Film Festival this year. I do find it a little odd that in France/Belgium (they aren't ever specific about where the film is set) an employment dispute is negotiated without the slightest hint of a workers union. It really could have saved Sandra a lot of bother, but then I suppose she would not have come out the other side quite so emotionally galvanized and ready to find a new job. I definitely recommend this film, and for everyone 13+. There are so scares, thrills, or moments of gratuitous violence; but neither is there much in the way of romantic activity. So seeing this with mothers-in-law or sainted aunts will not be an embarrassing experience. 

20,000 Days on Earth, Review NZIFF

This Saturday evening I saw the 97 minute cinematic insight into Nick Cave. I honestly don't know how to specifically define this film, except to say that it is a discussion of life, the universe, and everything. 

A memorable phrase uttered by Cave near the end (in voice-over) goes something like; acting on a bad decision is better than not acting at all. This is not to say that the ethos of the film is hedonistic, but more a recognition of the value of experience refracted through memory. Cave wonders aloud what matters to him now, what seemed to matter before, and what his friends think.

 Some of the friends who join him as passengers in his car (they appear and disappear giving the impression that the conversation is occurring in Nick's head) like Ray Winston, and Kylie Minogue reflect on the good old times, the importance of self-confidence, and the realities of age. Minogue talks briefly of her fears of being forgotten by 'people'. 

Although the film is centred on Nick Cave and he carries plenty of the aloof self-importance of a rock star (yes I know 'rock' is not adequate a term to apply to Cave's style but I am way out of my depth here so please bear with me) he is self-deprecating, and clearly does not take himself entirely seriously. It would be agony to watch this film otherwise.

Rotten Tomatoes has given 20.000 Days on Earth 95%, an extremely high level of acclaim, and a fact I was made aware of imediately prior to the screening. An expectations boost did not disadvantage the film, and although I consider myself musically illiterate the world of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds kept me enthralled throughout. I had to resist the temptation to applaud at the end of one of his songs delivered at a live show -- after my coughing fit I didn't want to annoy my fellow movie-goers any further.

This is certainly a film worth taking note of and seeing if at all possible. Especially if like me you will be seeing Nick Cave perform live at the end of the year and as yet know nothing about the man. Conversely, if you already are a fan and perhaps have some musical knowledge, I have no doubt you will see things in this film that went completely over my head.

NZIFF 'Locke', Review

A terrific start to the festival! Locke is a 2013 British film written and directed by Steven Knight, and starring Tom Hardy as Ivan Locke. Ivan is a workaholic concrete construction supervisor working on a large project in Birmingham. The movie begins with him leaving the building site in his car having received word from the pregnant woman he had a one night stand with the previous year has gone into labour in a London hospital. Ivan has been married for fifteen years and has two sons. He has been a faithful husband all but once -- as his wife eventually makes clear; once is enough.

Locke entirely takes place in Ivan's car as he drives from Birmingham to London, making and receiving phone calls via blutooth. Tom Hardy is the only person seen, with the entire supporting cast only present in voice form. The film is an examination of what it is for a successful, intelligent, and capable life to come utterly undone in a short space of time. Hardy is brilliant at conveying the introspective obsessiveness of Ivan Locke, his desperation to re-exert control over the events in progress, and his bitter emotional struggle with the ghost of his father -- himself an unfaithful husband and absent parent.

There is much I could go into but better to be terse (since I am going to do a lot of these over the next few weeks). What really sticks in my mind and made a huge impression early on is Tim Hardy's voice. No laconic south England accent like he had in Inception, nor a distorted garble like in The Dark Knight Rises (thank goodness). His voice strongly channels Sir Anthony Hopkins, albeit a much younger version; the accent is a rich Welsh. 

Locke is highly critically acclaimed with a rating of 89% on Rotten Tomatoes, any many critics have declared Hardy's performance as a career best. This is a film that displays the curious ability of cinema that is so rarely indulged in -- the ability to be micro. In contrast to live theatre it is the well populated province of film to be big, to cut dramatically from one scene to the next, to do the physically impossible and take audiences anywhere and everywhere. Locke is just a guy in a car driving on a motorway -- and I was captivated for every moment. The slightest expression, the growing hollowness in Hardy's eyes, it is all examined over the two hours of the film. Locke is dark, and intimate, and cold. But the effect is leaves behind is not one of desolate sorrow, but of hope. A new life has been born, Ivan's sons still want him home despite his wife throwing him out, and the all important construction project beginning in the morning (that he has been coordinating from the car despite having been fired) will go ahead according to plan.

Ultimately I think the message is that life goes from managed stability to sheer chaos in a heartbeat, sometimes as an effect of the honest compulsion to do the right thing. Ivan could have left the emotionally rattled, and unstable Bethan to have her child alone in hospital while he went home to his waiting wife and sons. His family and his job would have remained intact. But his own father had abandoned him in a similar fashion only to return as a pathetic waste of a man when Ivan was in his twenties. He feels so compelled to do the right thing and take responsibility for his mistake that he will wreck his entire life. What an impressive morality play in a film so simple.

Without doubt this is a highlight of the festival, and if ever you have the chance to see it I strongly advise you do so.

Not a time for Politics?

I did not intend to write this, I was writing a piece on what I am learning as I interview more people. But I have to put that temporarily aside.

As I write today the Minister of Social Development Paula Bennett is flying to Ashburton following a shooting which occurred this morning at the Work and Income offices. Two people are confirmed to have been shot dead. Another is in a critical condition. Armed Police have locked down the town and sealed off the WINZ premises, I understand too that the WINZ and ACC branches in Christchurch and Timaru have been closed.

A manhunt for the alleged killer, 48 year old John Henry Tully, is unfolding right now (1:02pm).

This does not feel like New Zealand. Right wing bloggers backed by shady money-men shovelling filth over a democracy and stacking candidate selections to filter out moderates -- welcome to the antipodean Tea Party. A shooting and manhunt in progress -- welcome to the constant back and forth of the USA. Fear.

Glancing at the Whale Oil post on the Ashburton shooting, and in particular the comments, already the bloated trolls are criticising (that's actually a much kinder word for what they are doing) a tweet from Sue Bradford connecting this event to the policies of the National-led government.

Shocking news coming in of Work & Income shooting: awful, but a risk when office becomes front for brutal policies http://t.co/kjjLCa8NLp
— Sue Bradford (@suebr) August 31, 2014

I'm just waiting for someone to say something to the effect of; "This is not a time for politics". Unfortunately this is often said right when the speaker attempts to do some free political points scoring. We are staring an election in the teeth, and are about to try to decide on the course for this country as 'the people', not individuals. This is a time to care, it is a time to grieve for the WINZ staffers who got up this morning and went to work to try and make New Zealand better. Will we let them down by switching off? Or do we still give a damn?

A crushing defeat, three weeks out.

So Crusher Collins has had her ministerial career squished just days before the polls first open. The media has gone a bit mad over the last 24 hours, no doubt some bearing bruises and half healed scars -- trophies which make the schadenfreude a little more sweet.

Her ministerial warrant has been surrendered, and now Judith Collins is simply the MP for Papakura. She was placed at number 6 on the National Party list until this weekend, and a glance at the website (here) shows she has been erased from the list. To be clear she is still on the ballot in Papakura (at least right now), but should she fail to be elected there will be no safety net of the party vote to bring her back into Parliament. Her career would then be well and truly over.

In the papers today it was revealed that the blogger known as Cactus Kate (Cathy Odgers) had searched through her emails after she learned that Fairfax is investigating the hacked material used in Nicky Hager's Dirty Politics. Several of the emails in Odgers possession seemed to implicate Judith Collins in a smear campaign against the Serious Fraud Office and its (then) CEO Adam Feeley in May 2011.

Although those particular emails had not been available to Fairfax, it would appear (I could certainly be wrong on this point) that Odgers panicked and let a staffer at the Beehive know. In any case one particular email from Cameron Slater -- the boorish toady known as Whale Oil -- made its way to Wayne Eagleson (John Key's Chief of Staff) who showed it to the Prime Minister on Friday night. You can view (or not as it is rather poor quality) that email here. 

That email then was the basis of the conversation on Saturday morning between Key and Collins in which she offered to resign from cabinet and he accepted her resignation. TVNZ's Political Editor Corin Dann has said repeatedly over the last few days that National's election campaign has gone off the rails, and that Collins exit has compounded that. He may well be right. But you wouldn't be reading this if you didn't want my view so here it is: The stage looks set for a comeback.

In finally dealing with Collins on a Saturday morning, Key is giving the story a good chance to be dead and buried by mid-week. The dedicated politics shows like Q and A, and TV3's The Nation, would have given the story a thorough airing regardless of when it broke, so getting that out of the way asap is a good move. Furthermore, an SIS hearing into the matter has been announced for September 11 (a fraction ominous), I quote Stuff;

"Fairfax understands those ordered to appear on September 11 include blogger Cameron Slater, Key, and members of his office including chief of staff Wayne Eagleson, Official Information Act guru Sara Boyle and former staffer Jason Ede, now based at National Party head quarters."

Laying the affair at the feet of an official, nay, a 'proper inquiry', to use Key's words, comfortably seals it away from himself, and his current ministry. This deprives David Cunliffe of a handy weapon for the Stuff/Press Leaders debate on Tuesday. In that debate it should be more clear whether 'dirty politics' will continue to upset the Prime Minister's flow, and define this election in the crucial weeks ahead.

The spewing forth of information on the various money men and far-right wring schemers trying to destabilise moderate politicians and replace them with hollow-headed (and hearted) hacks like Mark Mitchell, will take a long time. It is true when people say that the left -- indeed all sides and parties have their share of 'dirty politics', and it is reprehensible wherever it lies. We have found it again in the corridors of power, like a good gardeners we the people need to pull it out by the root.
On a lighter note, I haven't yet seen the suffix 'gate', in reference to any of this. A little surprising perhaps all things considered. I guess it simply doesn't fit grammatically (since when has poor grammar ever stopped the media!)

Live by the hydraulic press...

Could this be the turning point? NZ Politics

For the past six years (seven if you count from 2007 when National under Key first overtook Labour in the polls) John Key has managed to rule during difficult times with astonishingly robust support.

He has done so by keeping his finger on the pulse of the nation and his hands off the corrosive controls of government as much as possible. The ongoing matter of whether he was briefed by the head of the SIS (of which he is the responsible minister) or whether his staff was, and whether he means his office when he refers to himself.

This brings to mind the observable pattern in political leadership, that time in office changes and alters everything, often imperceptibly. The result is that eventually the qualities that brought a leader to the summit of power now brings them down to the deep valley. Margaret Thatcher is a good example of this, so is Helen Clark, and so is Tony Blair -- although cool-headedness has yet to spread amongst would be biographers, and he is much more immediately polarising than other political leaders.

This pattern is not observable for shorter term leaders (I'd say less than five years), because one needs wider scope for analysis. But John Key has been Prime Minister of New Zealand since November 2008, and I think either he falls at this election, or we'll see a clear difference in his leadership over the next term. There is a word that sums up what I am suggesting, that word (which I believe to be justified) is terminal.  

The Happy projection may have already gone.

Robin Williams Emmy Tribute: Racist? Of Course Not!

Racist? Check again, I see humour.

The Robin Williams video that aired at the Emmy's after Billy Cristal delivered a tribute to the late-comedian has drawn some fire from knee-jerk dimwits on social media. The offending clip was a snippet from Williams appearance on James Lipton's Inside the Actors Studio in which he was free-associating using a pink scarf from a woman in the front row. 

The clip showed two of the jokes Williams made with the scarf (only a tiny part of the hysterically funny show, which you can find in full here), and only one of those jokes have raised the permanently skyward brows of a few twitter trolls. 

The first joke (the apparently innocuous one) involved him putting the scarf over his head and impersonating an Indian; "I came to Bombay last year..." Perhaps he was actually doing Mother Theresa, whatever, the audience laughed and the tweeters ignored it. 

Then he pulled part of the scarf over his mouth and nose, giving the clear impression of a burka, saying; "I would like to welcome you to Iran... Help me!"

Yes that was the 'offending' bit. The NZ Herald's article on it showed the following tweets:

The person putting together the Robin Williams segment for the Emmys decided to use his racist material.
— Hannah Story (@hannahmstory) August 26, 2014

they could've shown so many funny robin williams moments during that tribute did they have to use something so racist
— (@nialIhs) August 26, 2014

I'm still so shocked that the #Emmys would include such a racist bit in Robin Williams tribute. Out of all his great work, really?
— Ava (@haltiamava) August 26, 2014

And my personal favourite:

After that, people who'd never heard of Robin Williams would think he's Billy Crystal's racist friend who was on a lot of talk shows?
— Eric Harvey (@marathonpacks) August 26, 2014

How is it racist to make a joke (which is not being serious by definition) out of the dress and state of women in Iran? Particularly (though I don't think it is relevant to the main point) when that joke is pre 9-11. Ricky Gervais once said that there is nothing you can't joke about, no topic is ever taboo, it depends what the joke is. 

Looking at the machinery behind the humour, the ability to use irony correctly in order to make something funny requires an understanding of the thing itself. And the joy of laughing is all the better when you feel there is some reason you shouldn't laugh. For example I had no end of fun making my friend laugh in class, and vice versa, because we knew we weren't allowed to laugh. 

Thus the best humour is controversial. In the hurry to distance ourselves from Islamophobia, some of us are falling prey to over-sensitivity, and humourlessness. Dare to give in to laughing at things you feel unsure about and the result is a loosening up, the ability to take life less seriously, and the extra delight that comes with being a little bit naughty.

That is what Robin Williams did so well, and @marathonpacks that is what people who have never heard of him are more likely to find.  

Analysis too Expensive?

Today Andrea Vance wrote an opinion piece on Stuff.co.nz headlined: 

         The slick and the dead calm

She compared the campaigns led by John Key, and David Cunliffe. Where the former is 'polished and slick' (her words), the latter is rather more disorganised and (her words again) 'inexplicably flat'.

But the words themselves are open to wide interpretation, especially since one tends to (I certainly do) second guess the words used in relation to politicians, and resist the temptation to take them at face value.

Not very long ago David Cunliffe was being harshly criticised for being 'fake', or otherwise attempting to be someone he is not.Given that the preening world of Politics rewards the construction of façades and 'brands', this very criticism seemed more than a little disingenuous. If Cunliffe was being too fake then in a world full of fakes, then I submit the fault lies with us as onlookers not yet willing to suspend disbelief.

Verisimilitude (a word that often makes me giggle), meaning the appearance of being real relies very much on the beholder to be willing to play along. Likewise the campaign of John Key being 'slick' depends on the beholder. Someone else could easily find it 'artificial', too much of a practised routine of the PM moving swiftly past, having a quick selfie and a handshake, then moving on. John Key could be on autopilot:

"Key is merciless in keeping the exchanges swift - a grin for the camera phone, and an exchange of pleasantries and he's on to the next voter."

 That sentence reads however you want it to, perhaps that's a testament to journalistic impartiality. Or just political writing meant to give the impression of a salient point being made while delivering a judgement that's as movable as the tide.

Contrast this with Vance on Cunliffe:

"The day started with a selfie - and there were plenty - but to be blunt, [Tamati] Coffey was the bigger drawcard. 

A stop-off at a local primary school excited pupils, especially when told a Labour government would give them each a tablet. But with only a handful of eligible voters in the room, reporters wondered how effective the visit was. 

A scheduled town centre walkabout was delayed by 35 minutes as Cunliffe, Coffey and activists stopped for a curry. "An army marches on its stomach," Cunliffe said later. On the stroll he talked with eight people, two of whom were in town from overseas."

The first sentence and the final sentences in the two paragraph's are unquestionably negative. Cunliffe is less popular than his colleagues, Labour talking to youngsters far from voting age is a waste of time, Cunliffe spending time with people of whom a few are tourists (thus not voters). The impression here is not movable, and it is that David Cunliffe is wasting his time and resources, and lacks the honed skill of John Key.

But since when is spending time with the young people you are trying to help constitute a waste of time just because they can't yet vote? Might not the fact that David Cunliffe is taking time with people regardless of whether they're voters or not be evidence of humility, rather than stupidity?

Parliament exists to serve the people, not just the voters. And I don't think I'm worth more as a voter than I am as a New Zealander.

Andrea Vance finished with the following:

"Cunliffe versus Key is a popularity contest not being fought on a level playing field. The Labour leader has been in the job barely a year, and has struggled against character assassinations from both inside and outside his party. But yesterday his campaign should have been buoyed by Coffey's star power. Instead, it was inexplicably flat."

I would have been really interested in reading an opinion piece on why it may be that the Cunliffe's outing in Rotorua felt so off-key (yes the minor pun was intentional), instead hitting the inexplicable dead end. Perhaps a bit of critical analysis is asking too much of our dear journalists.

This Years NZ International Film Festival

The NZIFF comes to Palmerston North on September 4, and runs until September 21 (for the dates of other places see here, Auckland, Wellington, Dunedin have been and gone).

Yes the Palmy period coincides with the election, but I have decided to see at least 20 of the films on offer, and to post reviews immediately after. This is rather ambitious (and I confess I am slightly apprehensive, not least for the fact that 20 films within three weeks will cost around $230 in total) but it is a challenge well worth taking on.

And you, dear readers, will benefit. I have decided against starting a fresh blog just for this because film reviews are already a part of My Word is my Boon, and my blogging so far has been somewhat sporadic. It will do the blog good to get some regularity going! I am sure too that my political scribbling only appeals to a few, variety is therefore to be desired! I'm not giving up the political blogging though, and as election day draws ever closer you can expect to see some more.

It is my hope that these reviews will also be of interest to my international readers; where politics is divided by borders and oceans, film is boundless.

Was Politics Always This Dirty?

I refer of course to the recent book by Nicky Hager that has wrong-footed John Key and further obscured the release of various policies from Labour to National over the past two weeks. The question I ask is inspired by the shrugging cynicism about not only the matters raised in the book, but the entire fabric of politics. Some people I have recently crossed swords with have assured me that this is nothing new, that politics has always been this way, and that I am naive to consider that there is anything to be gained by close inspection. I resent the implication, and I resent the patronising dismissal of my point of view. 

While I can accept (although grudgingly) a counterargument based on reason, it is quite beyond my tolerance to accept a blatant dismissal based simply on aged authority. The interlocutors I refer to are speaking from what they believe to be experience (which I lack and am grateful to receive if it is actually genuine), but they mistake their weight in years for intellectual currency -- they lazily expect to buy acceptance with it. While wisdom is the by-product of experience, weary presumption coupled with crows feet and wrinkles stands as pretender in its stead. It is bullshit, and it is a terrible thing to bullshit the young. 

So I won't swallow that kind of manure (that isn't the only reason why I won't) and will probably continue to alienate and engage people in equal measure with my argumentativeness. But the point of this exercise is to look at the degree of grubbiness in politics -- whether that has changed. Here the naysayers convict themselves of a chronic bitterness. To look at politics and conclude that there is no need to investigate the connection between bloggers and Government ministers because we've always known it was dirty is the ultimate expression of tired cynicism. It is a pervasive feeling, and valid to an extent. But it is not an argument. 

To be honest it is downright arrogance to presume such omniscience. A call to provide evidence makes sense here, but it's hampered by the fact that negativity tends to stick in the mind better than its counterpart. Muldoon was a bully who drove some officials to tears, he accused a Labour MP of homosexuality and the MP subsequently resigned (Colin Moyle, his departure after one of the most disgraceful events in Parliaments' history led to the irony of Muldoon's future successor David Lange winning the by-election in Mangare). Those events stick overwhelmingly in the mind to the point where Sir Robert Muldoon's achievements languish in obscurity. A false picture of Politics emerges.

But that is not to say that examination of the theory and practise of Muldoon/Key/Collins should be abandoned. Uncovering of the methods they use to throw mud helps ensure those methods will have to change. Will the mud stop flying? No, of course not. But the process enables us to partially reclaim politics from the mire -- if only for a time. The attempt to make things fairer and more positive is worth it for its own sake. This is particularly valid where it concerns such appalling public shits as Cameron Slater. (Please pardon my language, Slater has a knack for bringing out the worst in people).

We decide first as individuals, then as a greater community what we value in this world. Politics is trapped in an existential struggle to reach the unobtainable ideals we set to guide it, just as we are to some extent in our own lives. 'Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness' is a fine phrase, and a lesson that the journey is of more importance than the destination. Politics often falls so miserably short that a cynical state of mind is not an unreasonable side effect. But so long as the yearning to be better than ones nature survives intact the journey will continue, and occasionally there will be instances where politics really is all it promises to be. As John-Paul Sartre observed: 

'Life has no meaning a priori [from the earlier]. Life itself is nothing until it is lived, it is we who give it meaning, and value is nothing more than the meaning we give it.' 

In the same way Politics has no more meaning and value than what we give it. That's why Hager's book matters. To glance behind Oz's curtain and see the geezer tugging at leavers and seeing which ones he's using. Instead of drawing bitterness from that, how much better it would be if we draw strength, and a resolve to improve politics a bit. It's only an extension of ourselves -- as good, bad, and ugly as we are.

It is a smear, against promiscuous smearers.

Cunliffe's Mixed Messages on Mana, hurts Kelvin Davis (CARTOON)

Months ago I compared Labour list MP and candidate for the Te Tai Tokerau to a flea. I meant that he was annoyingly nipping at Labour's chances at the election by going all out to take Hone Harawira's seat. Mr Davis believes the Maori of the North are being taken advantage of -- being cynically used. This is frankly true. I argued that this was simply the way of politics; an argument which in isolation I stand by, but can no longer accept in this case. An opposition does not have to be the polar opposite of the government, but in an election they do need to provide a positive alternative. To a degree Labour is a genuine alternative government on policy, but I don't think they show it in their behaviour.

Officially Labour is in favour of amending the rules of MMP to remove the coat-tailing ability. This is a stand of principle. But it is muddied by the shiftiness with which the Party is dealing with Internet-Mana. Labour will need them if in the position to put together a government, but at the same time wants to keep them as distant as possible. In this fit of wanting-it-both-ways, David Cunliffe is trying to chart a middle course by strongly declaring that Internet-Mana would not be part of his government, while Party Secretary Tim Barnett smooths ruffled feathers their in Te Tai Tokerau. Kelvin Davis is part of the ABC (Anyone But Cunliffe) faction of Labour, and keeping him weak is in Cunliffe's interests. It is politics, not principle. The current government is shameless with electorate deals for it's support parties. Labour is trying to do the same thing -- while attempting to look like they aren't. Perhaps their slogan vote positive, actually means vote blind...

Mr Uninformed (Cartoon)

Blind Spot

Late by ten minutes driving an icy car, the outcome is and was as predictable as bad drama -- minus an ominous score.

A white van against an overcast morning not seen through a frosted window, and then it was right in front and the accelerated motion which should have carried me efficiently through the roundabout was jarringly halted. Truly I did not see it. Truly that fact is of no consequence.

The Police Officers travelling at a fortuitous distance behind on the same road, took charge within half a minute. I could retreat into my newly aching head and politely fume at myself. The Officers busied themselves with the mandatory task of collecting statements -- the flashing lights of their striped vehicle providing momentary interest to the bored passing motorists.

My car is in a bad way. "Undrivable", said the Senior Constable (I have no idea if he really is ranked Senior, but he was the senior of the two constables present). A buckled bonnet, headlight smashed all to hell, and a badly bent bumper -- that became evident once the ex-car was dragged onto the truck. A horrid scraping of asphalt, plastic, and metal was the death cry of such a dependable steed. The white van appeared to be suffering more of a flesh-wound, a dented sliding door which did not prevent it from behaving normally as a road vehicle, it shook off the sting and eventually went on its way.

"Failure to give way at an intersection." That's the ticket I can expect to receive in the mail next week. Failure. Such a dismal word, and so hard to inflect with a positive tone. In all truth I think my reactions were fortunately slow, for he was travelling faster than I, and in a flat-fronted van it would have been far worse if he had hit me. However the mark against me would still stand, I still failed to give way.

My car is gone, at least for now. My mobility therefore substantially reduced. But I crashed in a well kept and considerate neighbourhood, with policemen at the scene to help me from my car and kindly take responsibility for what I dare not (that is talk to the other chap). Insurance will hopefully step-up, my brother spirited me from the scene when the police inquiries were done, and I now sit by a warm fire and await a wholesome dinner. In all the chaos of the world, where desperate people do desperate things, and are never secure in so much as their next meal; when civilised planes are shot from an uncivilised sky -- how unfairly fortunate today am I.   

Summary of the last week in NZ politics...

A Critique of Pacifism, and a Defence of Argument

As a result of a recent row I was in about the conflict in Iraq and possibilities of dealing with the crisis, my anger and stridency got the better of me, and as a result I had much cause to ruminate. I was struck by the tone of pre-WWII pacifism I was hearing. I don't seek to rehash that particular shouting match in this piece – clearly I was angry and alarmed by what I was hearing (and did not desist when it was plain the person in question did not wish to argue) – what I want to do instead is examine the character of the position as best I can. I believe that on the one hand it is based on irrational anti-Americentrism, and on the other (although these factors frequently overlap) an antipodean solipsism. 

As I said the pacifism seemed to hark back to the inter-war period, when the motivation to prevent catastrophic modern war so clouded the minds of great statesmen that they did not act against the belligerent fascists of Germany and Italy – or even make pragmatic steps to galvanise their offensive capabilities until the fascists had an enormous military advantage. Appeasement, the theory has been so routinely discredited ever since, and its stalwarts (Neville Chaimberlain, Sidney Baldwin, Joe Kennedy) ridiculed and repudiated. But it was at a certain time a persuasive political doctrine, as was pacifism when articulated by writers like A.A. Milne in his book Peace with Honour. He drove the point that Britain doesn't fight wars to protect its culture, or its institutions, or its citizenry. It fights wars to protect its reputation as a belligerent nation, a first class power. Well pleaded, and persuasive as a general explanation of the wars around the turn of the century which culminated in WWI (and still worth reading). But it failed to take into account that the ground of history is ever shifting, that the passing of even a handful of years can see the arrival of a whole new set of circumstances which change the nature of a conflict and thus the case for joining it.

That is what Milne realised with the lead up to WWII and his subsequent book War with Honour sought to modify the obstinate pacifism of his earlier work. WWII was a struggle fought reluctantly, bitterly, and even with a touch of cynicism – it had to be fought, but it wasn't dressed up in honourable trappings. Dulche et decorum est pro patria mori, that hucksterish refrain to seduce the willing participation of a generation a century ago was disposed of, and 'blood, toil, tears and sweat' was the mantra by 1940. There was also a humanitarian dimension to the conflict, although it failed to persuade the appeasers. What did finally spur them to action was the direct threat Germany posed to France and Britain. A self-interested motivation does not rank high on charts of moral decision making, and yet is the principal pillar beneath the doctrines of isolationism, and pacifism (do not do to others what you would not want done to yourself is a sound rule, but is predicated on self-preservation by definition).

On Iraq

On the specific case of the Isis insurgency of Iraq - energized by more than a billion dollars US of oil revenue seized from the border zone of Iraq and Syria - even former Prime Minister Helen Clark (who decided not to support the Bush-Administration's invasion of Iraq in 2003) has stated that drawing a connection between the 2003 war and Isis is a 'long bow to draw'. More likely is that the group has been formed during the Syrian civil war (which infamously has been left out of western interference) and there is evidence they are financially backed by Wahabi Saudi Arabia. In the last few months at least 500,000 civilians have been forced from their homes and towns, they can't flee as refugees because Syria is a bloody war zone (with half a million dead so far), and other countries in the region (namely Jordan) are already struggling to cope with so many refugees who fled Syria. Currently Isis is being held up by the Kurds in the north and the Iraqi army in the south. Conflict at the moment surrounds the Baiji oil refinery, some 14o miles north of Baghdad. If Isis takes this the largest oil refinery in Iraq they will have the country’s economy in a submission hold. The situation is desperate, and a call to arms from a Shia cleric is already being answered by thousands of eager young men. Is a greater sectarian conflict – unchecked and unchallenged by the Nations that can do something – more desirable that a possible use of American military strength? Say it is not your problem if you like, but the international community is staring down the barrel at a looming catastrophe – shutting your eyes will not make the problem disappear.

The Saudi's are partly to blame for the sectarian conflict in the Middle East. I say partly first as a way to avoid hubris, and second to give room for the other influences, like the presence of oil in the region (nonetheless a widely misunderstood influence). Saudi Arabia is majority Sunni (the largest Islamic denomination at about 89% of the global Muslim population), at 85-90% of the kingdoms 28 million residents. For many years they have used their considerable oil wealth to finance the operations of terrorists (they financed Al-Qaeda and 9/11), Hamas in Gaza (classified as a terrorist organisation by the USA and Israel, but are a far more complicated case), and along with the United Arab Emirates contributed billions of dollars to the rebuilding of southern Lebanon - which as not as innocuous an action as it may seem. It was to counter the efforts of Iran backed Hezbollah (Shia) which was investing millions for the same purpose; the effort is more sectarian than humanitarian. 

Why then are the Saudi's supported so strongly by the USA? This is indeed a strange contortion in US foreign policy, but to be terse it continues because of the immense influence Saudi Arabia has over the Muslim world. The most holy site in Islam is situated within the city of Mecca, to which every Muslim is expected (commanded according to the Quran) to  make a pilgrimage to at least once in their lives. This gives the kingdom huge power over the people that visit, and that fact is something the USA knows all too well. 

On New Zealand

I don't to say that the New Zealand pacifist is one because they are self-interested, on the contrary the conviction seems held from a desire to do no harm to others. Since violence causes direct harm, and war produces the most violence, war must be opposed. As I have mentioned the circumstances of WWII showed the limitations of the pacifist case. There are times when one must engage in violence for the purpose of halting a worse violence. This is sometimes argued to be a paradox, but only if one grants the pacifists their premise: do no harm.  If you do not accept the rule as an absolute you are not therefore lacking in moral feeling, instead you are conceding that the universe is not just, and there are no absolutes. Some people will do the best they can, others the worst they can. A moral action is when someone acts outside of their self interest for the benefit of others. Killing is often-times immoral because it violates the second part of that rule – it is not to a person’s benefit to kill them. But a glance at that sentence reveals yet more exceptions and dilemmas. I refer to the concept of euthanasia and assisted suicide – issues that deserve discussion and debate, not hasty denials on the grounds that ‘killing is morally wrong’ therefore the matter must be shut in the bottom draw and forgotten. We do no justice to our intelligence when we close the door to debate. 

Today in New Zealand it should perhaps not be surprising that the remoteness of the country, its general tranquillity, and the suspicion of global 'powers' at the centre of a foreign policy that has for the last thirty years charted a lonely (though grudgingly respected) course in international politics, produces such pacifists. What I take issue with is the absolutist nature of their stance, coupled with the underlying moral relativistism which so often accompanies anti-americanism. That the values we hold at the core of our society are somehow incompatible with people in distant lands. That idea masquerades as a kind of cultural self-deprecation, but is a rejection of the universality of the human condition. 

Why this is particularly irksome is the people holding this conviction – who refuse to engage in argument – are the elite. They are wealthy baby boomers in the safe haven of a rich island nation with an excessive 'moat' (courtesy of the Pacific Ocean which Darwin once referred to as being very poorly named). The complaint ‘but it isn’t our problem,’ is a solipsistic one. Like it or not there is a tremendous amount of suffering and desperation beyond our shores, and it deserves open minded attention. In his writings George Orwell criticised those who have never seen the appalling sights of murdered corpses en-mass, for whom murder is just a word. This gives me plenty of cause to be uncomfortable myself, as I haven't ventured into an intrinsically dangerous zones, instead I've staggered in the shadows of old wars (Vietnam, Gallipoli). However I don't hide from the fact that I live in a very rare antipodean bubble of privilege. To the elite I say that their contention that people in distant lands should be left very much to themselves constitute an abnegation of their morality, as well as a pious dismissal of real human suffering. They have abandoned reason in favour of a contrived acceptability; would sooner swap trivial exchanges than test their theories, and will let the world burn while they fiddle.

I believe it is better to at the minimum argue over solutions than to tiredly dismiss them at a glance. Is a humanitarian crisis really not worth trying to resolve? I cannot accept that, and I won’t apologise for getting angry. 

Why is Isis posting pictures of the massacre of Iraqi soldiers? For sheer bloody terror.