Baby 59

The inhumanity of the 22 yr old "mother", who flushed her newborn baby down  a toilet:

From The telegraph:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/10086884/Baby-59-Chinese-fireman-feared-infant-would-die.html

I get so angry about stories like this.

"Reports in local media suggest the mother – who has been given the alias Xiao Fei – only realised she was carrying a baby three months into her pregnancy. She subsequently attempted to conceal her pregnancy by using loose-fitting clothes and confronted the baby's father. He rejected her appeals for help, she told police.
With insufficient money for an abortion, the mother told police she had been forced to secretly deliver the baby inside a lavatory in at her home. The baby, she claims, accidentally slipped down the lavatory. Police are not convinced by that version of events."

"Forced to secretly deliver". What a pathetic excuse for a woman. I have no time for any female who make excuses for their behavior in  any given situation. Deal with it, don't deal with it but women should bear the consequences of their action to the same degree as men.

If I had a dollar for the number of females who blame their actions on another person or their situation I'd be, well, a pretty rich person.
This type of woman will sit in the shit or do things they should be uncomfortable with, when the truth is they are too weak to  take the right action.

The worst of it is, then society has to frig around and change laws to accommodate this broad swathe of helpless females.

And this weakness turns us into murderers. Taking a baby to full term and then committing such an atrocious act is criminal.

Speaking to foreign media for the first time, Zheng Yuzheng, a firefighter from the Pujiang County Public Security Bureau in China's Zhejiang province, told The Daily Telegraph of his "huge relief" at the 5lb baby's miraculous survival.

He spoke as police claimed they fear the mother of the baby is so distraught that she may attempt to take her own life.

Two words: "who cares".  Women are traditionally defenders of the disenfranchised and the persecuted. This souless creature was unable to stand up for herself and her rights as a woman and had no qualms about  killing her own child.She shouldn't get a jot more of the media attention.

I would hope we don't see follow-up stories about this "poor women" having no support. Her actions should not be excused. She may be pathetic,  but she is probably guilty of attempted murder.

As for culpability? Any defense that it was an accident is rubbish.  When she pressed the flush button she made a conscious decision to kill another person.

Student Loan Disgrace New Zealand Politics

One of my last political posts. If I can stop myself :)  I'm eventually re-incarnating as a happier sweeter blogger. All this fascination with politics is ruining my housewifely piece of mind.
I find myself getting angry and frustrated with the state of my home nation. I'd love to think I wasn't powerless enough to change the political winds that disturb me, by being another voice in the ether.

But it's insanity on my behalf:
I live in a piece of paradise. I'm lucky enough to live in a clement friendly neighborhood. Why bang on about matters in an insular society on the other side of the world?

Because I care. But for (maybe) the last time:

Student Loan Disgrace:

"Buddy, you're a boy
Make a big noise
Playing in the street
Gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on your face
You big disgrace
Kicking your can all over the place"

"We Will Rock you": Queen

National's budgets have always penalised those members of Generation X born in the 1970's.  Student loan policy being a case in point.

National's student loan policy isn't a direct attack on those of my generation. In the 1990's, Student Loans were being enacted in many countries around the world as a direct result of the "user pays" fiscal philosophy that was dominating political discussions worldwide.

The 1990 New Zealand National government went for the student loan scheme, booots and all. Consequently my generation has had to pay a huge price for being the guinea pigs of the student loan scheme.  It's eroded our connection to our homeland. At least 10,000 student loan defaulters no longer remain connected to NZ in any meaningful way.

The majority of these will be from the classes of 1993 and 1994.

In 1992, legislation was passed by the National Government that meant that in every following year, you had to borrow to attend university.

Nationwide, we were sat in school auditoriums and told that we could go to university and we would borrow to do so. I didn't even know what a debt was. As a fairly naive 17 year old, I'd only ever had an eftpos card at that stage.
Bright young thing that I was, I just smiled, nodded and thought, "just get me outta here'.

If you started studying in 1989 or 1990, you got a fees-free tertiary education. I find a certain amount of irony in the knowledge, that Bill English and Steven Joyce are only a decade older than me and my fellows. They got a free education then implemented the punitive scheme without any lead in period. They are now portraying my fellows as being the debt dodging scourge of society.

Background:
If like me, you were one of the first borrowers to draw down in 1993, you attracted a sizeable debt via voracious tertiary institutions. A debt that will still be hounding you, if, like me, you were unable to find permanent full time work in your area of expertise in the 90's.

And if like me you are a women who stopped earning to re-train or to have kids, you're even more likely to still be carrying the millstone of student debt.

And like me, as one of the class of 1993 or 1994, you found it hard to find employment in New Zealand in the economically bleak 1990's, you may have decided to move overseas to more fertile pastures.

You may not have deliberately decided to dodge your debt. It may be that you're employed but not so that you can pay off the loan in any meaningful fashion.

 You lose contact with the IRD. You breathe a sigh of relief.  And although you feel like a bit of a shit about it, you make the conscious decision to evade your loan so you can stop throwing money at an ever increasing mountain of debt.

You start to see an ever increasing amount of media reports about "debt dodgers". You get angry:
From the NZ Herald:
"Minister of Tertiary Education Skills and Employment Steven Joyce said the crackdown was aimed at the worst offenders.
Those who fell behind on payments but were responsive to the IRD would not be cuffed at the border, which would be a last resort.

"This is for people who are deliberately not paying and don't want to talk about it."

Ahhhh. But you can get cuffed at the border. WHAT?

THIS IS CRAZY!!!!

The government is actually THREATENING TO CUFF IT'S OWN CITIZENS OVER DEBT! NOT FRAUD, DEBT!

THAT'S INSANE!

And this is any student loan borrower. For now it is only serious defaulters. But the government moves quickly and potentially could detain any borrower at the border.

I'm not a student loan defaulter.

But I'm horrified at how hostile and bellicose the New Zealand government is being to it's own citizens. 

Good luck with the debt collection process, National. We're a generation that is pretty good at not being found if we don't want to be. We also know that you don't actually want us to pay off our loans. If you did you'd make a deal worth taking up.
You just want us to dripfeed our minimum payments into a failed scheme to prop it up.

If you really want to find us, our lost generation will just be kicking our can all over the place:

New Zealand Politics: GilmoreGate

Aaron ("Do you know who I am", Gilmore must be living with a permanent case of vertigo.
The lowly Cabin Boy of the National Party caucus has been ordered to walk the plank.
On one hand:, he must feel like he should walk: All the other pirates are waving their cutlasses at him and yelling at him to walk.
The sharks of the media and public opinion are circling in the water below the plank. There's blood lust in the air. if Gilmore doesn't feel a bit giddy and compelled to jump, I'd be very surprised.
 But the cutlasses being waved by the Prime Minister and the National Party president, Peter Goodfellow, are the Fantasia smoke and mirrors variety and are just for show.

Gilmore doesn't have to go even if he's "fired" by the PM. He's safe in his job until the next election. He'll only go when he's sick to death of the media attention or uneasy with his own actions.
He's got the upper hand at the moment if he just keeps his mouth shut and sticks to the letter of the Parliamentary Handbook.
It should be interesting. We know he doesn't want to go. He is very proud of his occupation as exhibited by his initial big-noting about his job to some random. He's not rushing to resign.

And nor should he, on the face of it.
He's probably a pain in the arse by the sound of it. Former co-workers and tenants have said he is hard work and arrogant. A "friend", got pissed off enough with him to start a media firestorm.
But one instance of being a pisshead loudmouth isn't enough to endanger one's employment. Sure, if he turns out to be an arse-covering alkie or has other pernicious skeletons in his closet, he should walk.
But at the moment his actions fall in the broad spectrum of unremarkable behaviour.

I'm surprised more public opprobrium isn't being rained down upon Andrew Riches by right wing media. Loose lips sink ships and but for the highlighting of the incident by Riches, the loosed lipped dinner party companion, the incident might have gone under the radar. Riches has effectively endangered the slim majority that the National Party clings on to.

This doesn't inspire faith in his lawyers ability to keep a cool head under pressure, let alone, client confidence.

I kind of hope he does stick it out. The very nature of this public stoush that sees the PM and the National Party president trying to staunch out this "Wet Behind the Ears MP is what make the public hate politicians. 1) he was never elected by the public as a list MP and 2) he is now being thrown out by the National Party rather than the public at large at election time.

It's all about being re-elected, innit? And both women and Aaron Gilmore have been deemed persona non grata by the National party powers that be eg Peter Goodfellow.
Behind the scenes billionaires that the public are not familar with and have no real acquaintance with the extent of their power rule the roost. They and not the public decide who gets the seat of power in parliament. And they and not the public consistently decide that women are unelectable.

Aaron is only a few years younger than I am. He should be allowed to make a couple of mistakes. I'd give Gilmore the benefit of the doubt. If only to see him ruffle a few feathers of the Old School Illuminati.




 Aaron Gilmore.

Go you good thing, Don't screw it up. Generation X are counting on you.

78 jobs in Northland Paula.

Welfare reforms have been passed into law.

http://www.beehive.govt.nz/release/welfare-reforms-pass-law

Awesome news for god fearing, beneficiary bashing Right Wingers.
But the the very real effect of these changes will be to discriminate against woman and alienate voters.

From the press release:

“They will also ensure work expectations and social obligations are balanced with the right incentives and support.”

And:

The investment approach will target interventions and support to those most at risk of long-term welfare dependence.
“By investing in people sooner, we can actually start to break that cycle of dependence.”

Meanwhile, a Northland Mom resorts to stealing fdood for her and her children:

http://www.northernadvocate.co.nz/news/mum-steals-or-kids-starve/1797242/

"We know of one woman on the DPB who has had to resort to stealing to feed her children. It's not stealing luxuries, it's food for her and her children because the DPB doesn't provide enough to do so after she's paid her rent and other incidentals," Mrs Peters said.
"She's under a budgeter and after paying the bills [rent, power etc] she has about $100 a week for food, medical and school expenses and clothes, etc, that's not a lot when you've got five kids. It's not that she's spending her benefit on cigarettes or alcohol or any luxuries. And she's the second one we've seen in a week who's had to steal to make ends meet."

These Northland bludgers could always get a job. Unfortunately there are only 78 jobs in Northland for those looking to move off the dole:

Unfortunately political parties don't ever learn from the failed mistakes of their past. And while Ryall, English et al are still in play, New Zealand gets to revisit the same old political ploys.
Bash beneficiaries and divert attention from the real show stopping truth:
THERE ARE NO JOBS FOR THE BLUDGERS, PAULA.
 Sorry to shout but the truth about welfare is it doesn't work with wholly stick and no carrot: The carrot of available jobs that is.

there are only 78 Jobs in Northland, Paula,
1383 in Auckland, Paula (city of 2 million people),
297 in Waikato, Paula,
256 in Bay of plenty, Paula,
16 in Gisborne, Paula,
129 in Hawkes Bay, Paula,
71 in Taranaki, Paula,
138 in wanganui, Manawatu, Paula,
548 in Wellington, Paula (our capital city), 
71 jobs in Nelson, Paula,
46 in Marlborough, Paula,
17 on the West Coast, Paula,
884 in Canterbury Paula, (Bingo. (Because of the earthquake) 
156 in Otago, Paula,
43 in southland, Paula.

Where are the jobs, Paula.

148 Bikers in a Movie Theatre.

Only two seats left:

The School Run. The American Way

A typical Wednesday goes like this:

Game addicts start hunting for their IPads at around 5am. Adults yell: " Go back to sleep". This tactic is unsuccessful. The day has begun.
The IPads have been hidden from the games addicts; they are forced into a state of cold turkey.
To cope with the withdrawal , they start an impromptu game of:" Ghosty, Ghosty Chicken Roasty"!
This involves the three boys yelling at the top of their lungs while the most brutal of them chases the others around the house.
We adults suffer this miserably for another half an hour before rising. The usual lack of sleep on top of the uber-responsibility from the previous day gives us a rather leaden sense of humour.

Coffee helps.

So does sticking out my foot to trip up a random rocketing Ghosty.

"Mum!" shouts Chicken Roasty.
"That should have gone on America's Funniest home videos".

The wee Ghosty glares at me and yells out " Penis Brain" to his brother.

I make pancakes and am promptly forgiven for all my misdemeanors.

Something tugs on my leg. Something else yells out "Tuddle"!

The twins are awake.

I "tuddle" one, give him a kiss and change his sister's diaper.

The twins are dressed, fed and off to preschool at 7.30am. We arrive there and are greeted by this creature:

 A flock of turkeys is resident next to the preschool. After dropping the twins I scramble  up the hill to get closer:

I am fascinated by this bizarre looking creature but I give it up and leave to drop the oldest boys to their school. It's now 8.30am.

Then me and Number Three stop at Starbucks for breakfast:

Duly fortified by apple juice and spinach croissants, we arrive at his preschool. I make a mental note to myself to get his hair cut. Parent Fail. He looks like Cousin It.

Also his top is far too big for him and he is lacking socks. I make a sheepish grin and a typical Kiwi self effacing comment to his teacher about, "his Dad dressing him".
She looks at me strangely; I pat my head to see if I have left the rollers in like I did last week. No rollers. She just didn't know how to respond to my typical Kiwi aphorism.

I muse on how different the American culture is as I walk to the car. It's unusual to refer to anything not done properly. Americans do everything to within at least 80% of perfection.

And the other 20% just isn't referred to. Sometimes it's the basis for the goofy American sense of humor. But you never feel shamefaced. It's just taken as a given that perfection isn't possible but if you're doing it the "American Way" then that's what counts.
And the American Way is mostly do stuff well.
Including the basics of parenting where Moms and Dads quite often swap roles.

I'm learning. I couldn't quite stop myself from making that comment that time but next time I'll ruffle my son's hair, smile at the teacher and turn and high five the next Dad who walks through the door.
The American Way.

How to Drink like a gentleman.

While the fannies and the ninnies decry the drinking culture in New Zealand, and other similarly liberal shores, those with maturity repine with the following enlightened attitude:

How to drink like a Gentleman:

The things to do and the things not to. As learned in more than 30 years of reasearch.

A good passage:

"But what is reliable stuff? What is the thing to drink, specifically? I go back to my Rule No. 1. The better thing to drink, whenever there is a choice, is the milder thing. Wine is better than a highball, a highball is better than a cocktail, and a cocktail is better than hard liquor taken straight. To be sure, there are times when the system craves something with a swift and powerful kick. A man just saved from drowning or acquitted of murder is not likely to be content with a glass of beer; he wants a pint of whisky, and he wants it at a gulp. But such inflammatory emergencies are surely not common in normal life."

And my favourite:

 "The typical situation is far less harrowing. The day is done, and the time has come to feed the body and relax the mind. Pleasant companions have gathered, and the aim of every one is to expand and be happy. Each has suffered since morning from the burden of chores and the assault of bores, and each is eager to let go his running rigging, drop his mainsail, and drift along quietly on the evening swell. Does he need a shot of 50-per-cent alcohol to achieve this benignant process? Does he need cocktails full of gin, rum, rye, applejack, and what not, with liqueurs, fruit juices, and bitters to disguise their naked shame? The answer is usually no, and in a perfect world it would be no all the time—but as things stand, alas, it is sometimes a kind of yes."

Oh how true:

"There are two tests: the company assembled and the dinner in prospect. If the company is made up wholly or in large part of yahoos to whom the only meaning of drinking is getting tight, and if the dinner ahead (as is likely in such a case) promises to be badly cooked and badly served, with nothing decent on the table to wash it down, then go for a cocktail by all means, and then for another, and then for as many more as you can get hold of. For what you need in such a situation is not something to emancipate you from care gently and beautifully, but something to knock you out at one crack. In other words, what you need is not an apéritif but an anæsthetic. Chloroform would be better, or the kick of a mule; but in their absence you must put up with a cocktail."

Me: Alas I was once such a yahoo. And for some is indeed an attitude of vigilance one must apply in order not to be charming rather than boorish. My rule of thumb to try to be aware of the point you become "glittery". When you feel the wine sparkling from your eye and you think you must be with the finest company in the nation. Even when you're drinking alone. :)  

Then there is the peril that one becomes so tight you exude the contents of your stomach over the hosts property. This is not uncommon amongst teenagers. This is sometimes necessary to remind us we need to be watching "how much we drink", not "how drunk we feel":

If you stick to a drink an hour you will be fine. If you drink faster than this you may get in trouble. Think of the accidental drinking death stories you hear of. There is nothing less cool than choking on your own vomit while trying to get to a slightly more intoxicated state. This is what happened to Amy Winehouse. This is what happens when you fall for the "Drinking Glamour". A glamor is a tempting illusion. You drink too much and at lesser degrees of this, you wake up with a bad case of the dry horrors and feeling like a prick.

 Another couple of helpful rules for upcoming generations:
Never become drunker than the drunkest person in the room.

Never drink and go on social media. You regret it in the morning. Every time a coconut.

It is easier to not have a drink than to stop in full swing. 

And to finish with the following from How to Drink Like a Gentleman:

"But to drink hard liquor before wine is as barbarous as going to church in a bathing suit or with boxing gloves on. It simply insults the whole evening. It is gustatory suicide. All this ought to be taught to the young by the moral leaders of the nation; but, as I have said, they neglect their duty."

 So perhaps we need to take our young sports people and sports ladies by the hand; forget their past indiscretions and teach them how to not drink like tits. Without any prissy commentary from TV3 hacks.