Time is an illusion

What are your memories of 2024?

Don't you cry tonight
I still love you, baby
And don't you cry tonight
Don't you cry tonight
There's a heaven above you, baby
And don't you cry tonight

Song: Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin

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“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so”, said possibly the greatest philosopher ever to walk this earth, Douglas Adams.

We have entered the time of year when the time of day, the time zone in which we reside, becomes less apparent. Is it lunchtime? Is it bedtime? Who can say? Time is flowing at our place without the standard landmarks you expect.

Last night, some of the family binge-watched the new series of Squid Game. They were still going when I went to bed at about half-past one. This morning, they’re back watching the Boxing Day Premier League fixtures. One is fast asleep, and the others are soon to be. They have become nocturnal.

I’ve been reflecting on the past year and catching up on correspondence. In doing this, it struck me that, despite being a politically dreadful year, I’ve encountered many individuals who are positive, determined, and unyielding. Kindred spirits—who will ultimately succeed, that I am certain of.

I don’t know how long it will take, but if there was ever a government that should not get re-elected, it is this one. However, I believe we will ultimately win because, as frustrating as people can be, they aren’t stupid—well, not forever.

I live in something of a lefty bubble, although I’ve encountered at least one ZB listener during this year’s festivities. How about you?

Were there people around the dinner table or the BBQ you encountered who had a bit of buyer’s remorse with the reality of this government being worse than even those of us who were concerned suspected? Or did they want them to go harder?

There seems to be a real push from neoliberal groups—ACT, the Taxpayers’ Union, and NZME—to not take a breather after what has gone on but to make much more substantial cuts, to slash funding and borrowing.

This would result in a deeper economic depression and a widening of the gap between the haves and the have-nots, more extreme wealth, and more extreme poverty.

Matthew Hooton advocates in the Herald, saying:

“There is now really only one option, and that is to radically cut the size of the state, abolish or at least halve company tax, and not to stuff around with David Seymour’s bureaucratic Ministry for Regulation but just get on and deregulate our investment and business rules.”

His vision for Aotearoa is of neoliberalism bordering on anarchy, with the removal of safety nets and safeguards for people and the planet.

Funny, isn’t it that these people always talk about “The State” like it is this evil bureaucratic monolith, rather than saying we need to radically cut funding to healthcare, education, and welfare, which is what they really mean?

Or the following from Taxpayers’ Union (TPU) Policy and Public Affairs Manager James Ross. Don’t you love it when lobbyists give themselves grand titles as if they actually mean something or were earned? Perhaps from now on, I should refer to myself as the CEO, Chief Economist, and Grand Poobah of Nick’s Kōrero Inc.

Anyway, this is what Mr Ross had to say:

“The Government needs to take its spending problem seriously to balance the books. Sir Bill English made the hard choices to get back to surplus after the Global Financial Crisis and this Government needs to do the same. Continuing to fiddle whilst the books burn is not a fiscal strategy - Willis missing her targets has the country on course for disaster.”

This is a weird thing to say considering that Bill English ran numerous deficits, and it was only in National’s last year, long after the GFC, once Steven “It’s A Hole” Joyce had taken over, that they returned to any significant surplus.

This is where myths like National being good custodians of the economy come from. Forget the fact that the Clark/Cullen government ran surpluses every year and that Grant Robertson had done until Covid came along.

Mind you, why would anyone in their right mind believe anything the TPU says? No wonder they have used a fake name pretending to be a union even though they represent the interests of a small number of very wealthy people and use bullshit titles like Policy and Public Affairs Manager to lend credibility where none is due.

Let me give you an example.

Some politicians dress their families in silk pyjamas and parade them before the nation, while others remain very quiet. Until election night, I had no idea that Chris Hipkins had a partner; she had stayed out of the limelight. That's all very nice, and you might be wondering why I’m telling you this, but take a look at this:

I find that incredibly repugnant. The fact that this person, who has chosen to stay out of the limelight—something I fully respect, just as I did with Bronagh Key and Peter Davis—has been smeared by these revolting little gutter dwellers accusing her of getting flights and a car at the taxpayers' expense is complete nonsense.

How dare they? More to the point, why do media outlets give them airtime as if they were in any way credible?

A tweeted apology, nearly two months after the unfounded accusation was made, is simply insufficient. However, as we have observed with name suppression in this country, if you are a powerful neoliberal, the rules do not apply to you—even after a year, even after being found guilty.

Image: The Tiny Penis Taxpayers’ Union.

Goodness, that turned into a rant. Suffice it to say I’m not a fan of the TPU. What I actually wanted to discuss today were your memories of the year.

I’m about to start a review of 2024, and I’m keen to understand what stood out to you. What will you remember? Which event, person, or action comes to mind now that there is a brief moment of breathing space from the day-to-day?

I’ll begin the review tomorrow, but in the meantime, I would love to hear your thoughts.

As for today’s intended theme, the “don’t you cry" sentiment refers to the many kind-hearted Kiwis I’ve interacted with and met this year, who truly care about this place and our people. I know it’s been a difficult year, but don’t feel too down; there are thousands of people who share your feelings.

Next time you’re at a protest or something, perhaps take a moment to say hello to those around you. There are good people there, and you are not alone. Who knows, you might even make a friend, just like I did when the hikoi came through Auckland, and I met Mary, who sent me a note last night that got me thinking about all this.

I'm sorry if my post was a bit waffly, but I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. I’m going to leave newsletters open to everyone until the new year; the truth is, readership plummets as people are busy enjoying themselves, and it seems rather churlish to impose a paywall.

Have a great day lovely people, and I’ll see you in the comments. 🙂

I used to play this one in bands thirty years ago, but it never sounded like this. This is way better. Don’t You Cry, by Walk off the Earth.