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Last year, MEGA went searching for local musical talent.
This year, we are searching for something even more dangerous: Eastbourne’s sense of humour

MEGA’s GREAT EASTBOURNE
(& BAYS)
LAUGH-OFF COMPETITION 

We want your funniest local anecdote, true story, tall tale, embarrassing incident, character sketch or gloriously ridiculous memory connected to Eastbourne, Days Bay, Lowry Bay, York Bay, Mahina Bay, Sunshine Bay or the surrounding Bays.

Win $500  -  InteresteD? Have a funny story? 

CLICK HERE - Check Out the Fun Facts & Enter

BISHOP FOR PM? NOT SO FAST....

Chris Bishop has already admitted he may lose Hutt South, while his name keeps appearing whenever National starts sharpening the knives around Christopher Luxon.
Bishop denies plotting, of course. In politics, nobody ever plots. They merely have confidential conversations with colleagues immediately before something mysteriously explodes.

MEGA’s problem is simpler.
Chris Bishop does not have the X factor to be Prime Minister.

He is energetic, articulate and clearly ambitious. He can handle a microphone. But Prime Ministers need something beyond being very good at politics. They need presence, instinct and that indefinable quality that makes voters actually want them running the country.
Bishop feels more like the bloke who could successfully organise the coup than the bloke you necessarily want wearing the crown.
And Hutt South voters face an additional joke: they may reject him as their local MP, only for National’s high list ranking to return him through MMP anyway.
So Bishop could theoretically be told:
“We don’t want you representing Hutt South.”    ...and respond:
“Fair enough. How about the entire country?”
Ambition is useful.
But before measuring the curtains at Premier House, Chris might first check whether the neighbours still want him living in Lower Hutt.



PADDY GOES HOMELESS — FOR ONE NIGHT


It was reported recently that Paddy Gower spent a night sleeping rough in Auckland to discover what homelessness was like.
One night. Sleeping bag. Thermals. Puffer jacket. TV crew. Undercover security nearby.
By breakfast, the field research was complete.

MEGA is always suspicious of this kind of journalism: send a well-paid reporter into someone else’s misery for a few hours, discover that disadvantaged people are human, then go home and write the emotional conclusion.
It is less homelessness than **Homelessness: The Weekend Experience Package**.
New Zealand has benefits, emergency housing, social services, charities and agencies designed to help people in serious difficulty. They are not perfect, but neither is everyone sleeping in a doorway there because the Government forgot them.
Some refuse accommodation. Some cannot cope with its conditions. Some have addictions. Others are so psychiatrically unwell that the real problem may not be housing at all.
Sometimes it is a **care problem**.

We dismantled much of the old institutional system for good reasons, but occasionally seem to have replaced “bad institutional care” with “here’s some cardboard, good luck.”
And businesses wanting access to their own front doors is not proof that democracy has collapsed.
The sensible approach is to stop pretending every rough sleeper fits the same political story.
Paddy eventually packed up his sleeping bag and went home.
That is the crucial difference.
**His homelessness came with a checkout time.**


HUMBUG.......!

THE GREAT KIWI INHERITANCE: GET IT BEFORE THE REST HOME DOES

New Zealand is apparently heading for a $1.1 trillion intergenerational wealth transfer.

Excellent news.

Unless, of course, you inherit it, fall in love at 72, move into a retirement village, develop dementia, give $600,000 to the children early, and discover that MSD still thinks the money is sitting under the mattress.

Suddenly that lovely family inheritance becomes less Downton Abbey and more financial squid game.

Experts say the first thing to do when you inherit a million dollars is nothing.

Very sensible.

Don’t buy a boat.

Don’t shout the family a world cruise.

Don’t give the kids “their share early”.

And definitely don’t celebrate by acquiring a new partner without first checking whether they come with hidden terms and conditions.

Because later-life romance is not just candlelight, companionship and matching mobility scooters.

It can also mean:

“Darling, I love you.”

“Wonderful. MSD would now like to see your bank statements.”

The cruelest trick is early generosity. Give the children a large inheritance before you need care and the money may be gone — but for means-testing purposes, it can rise from the grave like a financial zombie.

So the kids have the cash.

The rest home has the invoice.

And your new partner has a calculator, a lawyer and a rapidly disappearing sense of humour.

Which gives us the MEGA rule for New Zealand’s coming inheritance tsunami:

When the money arrives, do nothing.

When romance arrives, read the fine print.

And when the children say, “You won’t need all that money anyway,” change the locks.

Cupid carries arrows.

The children carry calculators.

MSD carries both.


RETIREMENT: THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES. NOW PLEASE PAY FOR YOURSELF.



New Zealand has spent decades telling people: work hard, pay tax, buy a house, save what you can, and one day you’ll retire with a bit of dignity.

Cute story.

Now the experts are discovering the bridge is wobbling, the cables are fraying and apparently the solution is to ask the elderly to walk more carefully.

NZ Super is under pressure. KiwiSaver isn’t enough. Houses cost a fortune. More people will retire with mortgages. And politicians are discussing whether 65 is perhaps a little too young to stop working.

Excellent.

After forty-five years on the job, apparently what you really need is another five.

The system also assumes retirees own their homes outright, which is wonderfully nostalgic. Right up there with sixpence lollies, affordable dentistry and politicians answering questions.

Meanwhile KiwiSaver is being promoted as the great rescue boat.

Problem: if you spent your working life on an ordinary wage, raised children, paid rent or a mortgage and occasionally committed the financial recklessness of buying food, your KiwiSaver may contain slightly less than required to fund twenty years of comfortable retirement.

So what’s the proposed strategy?

Save more.

Work longer.

Expect less.

Possibly die efficiently.

MEGA has a radical alternative:

Leave the oldies alone.

They already paid taxes through recessions, inflation, restructuring, Rogernomics, Muldoon, GST, rates, fuel taxes and enough government “reforms” to qualify for combat pay.

If the retirement system is broken, fix the bloody system.

Don’t send Grandma back to work because Treasury’s spreadsheet looks nervous.



JETSTAR DISCOVERS A NEW UNIT OF WEIGHT: THE WALLET



Jetstar has solved one of aviation’s great problems.

From February, your body can weigh almost anything — but put a perfectly ordinary suitcase in the overhead locker and suddenly gravity becomes a premium service.

A 60kg passenger carrying a cabin case may be charged extra. A 150kg passenger with a tiny handbag may not be. The aircraft, curiously, remains stubbornly interested in the combined weight of both.

So this isn’t really about weight.

It’s about finding another part of the aircraft that hasn’t yet been given a price tag.

Jetstar says the change will make boarding simpler and reduce arguments over baggage. Brilliant economics: eliminate arguments about weighing bags by charging people for the shelf instead.

And naturally the advertised base fare stays wonderfully low because increasingly it buys something resembling air travel in kitset form.

Seat? Included.

Small bag? Included.

Overhead locker? That’s the luxury package.

Perhaps next year:

Window view: $8

Armrest: $6

Reclining three centimetres: $14

Breathing above 10,000 feet: dynamic pricing applies.

There is a legitimate shortage of overhead space. Charge for it if you must.

But don’t dress another round of airline unbundling up as some great victory for passenger convenience.

Jetstar hasn’t made flying simpler. It has simply found somewhere new to put the meter.


MORE HUMBUG.......!

SAVE THE MANUAL — IT MAY BE SAVING US

Just as New Zealand is preparing to hold a funeral for the manual gearbox, researchers have inconveniently suggested that changing gears may actually be good for your brain.

Only about 6% of registered Kiwi cars are now manuals. Automatics have won because they are easier, smoother and require considerably less participation from the driver.

Then along comes Japanese research suggesting that operating a clutch, selecting gears, coordinating hands and feet and constantly judging engine speed gives the brain an extra workout — potentially helping maintain cognitive function as we age. (Road & Track)

Excellent.

So after decades of engineering cars specifically so humans have to do less thinking, we discover that thinking may have been useful.

This is particularly good news for the surviving Baby Boomers still driving manuals.

These people are no longer elderly motorists.

They are cognitive athletes.

While younger drivers sit in automatics selecting D and allowing the vehicle to make every decision except where to stop for coffee, the 74-year-old in the 2004 Corolla is simultaneously operating three pedals, selecting third, judging revs, checking mirrors, negotiating a roundabout and remembering where he left his glasses.

That is not driving.

That is a neurological triathlon.

Manual drivers should therefore receive immediate recognition from the health system.

Forget Sudoku.

Forget Wordle.

Forget expensive brain-training apps.

Just put Nana in a six-speed on the Ngauranga Gorge and tell her there’s a hill start at the top.

Of course, the research does not prove that a gearstick prevents Alzheimer’s or dementia. It suggests the additional coordination and mental engagement may be beneficial — which is quite enough evidence for MEGA to declare victory. (Road & Track)

So before we finally consign the manual gearbox to the museum, perhaps show it a little respect.

The automatic driver arrives relaxed.

The manual driver arrives with a functioning left leg, superior hand-eye coordination and the smug expression of someone who can still start a car on a hill without rolling backwards into a Tesla.

SAVE THE MANUAL.

SAVE THE BRAIN.

And never underestimate an elderly person who still knows what the third pedal does.

AUCKLAND UNIVERSITY DISCOVERS WELLINGTON TRAFFIC COULD STOP



Recently, Auckland University researchers modelled what would happen if a magnitude 7.5 earthquake hit Wellington.

Their conclusion was dramatic.

Lower Hutt could lose around 90% of normal trips. Wellington City could lose nearly three-quarters. Roads would fail, landslides would block key routes, commuters would be stranded and the surviving network could collapse into gridlock.

Wellingtonians read this and asked one obvious question:

How will we know?

Because to many locals, the description sounds suspiciously like an ordinary weekday involving rain, one crash on SH2 and someone attempting to merge near Ngauranga.

The researchers warn that even two weeks after the quake, traffic demand may need to be cut by more than half to stop the remaining roads from seizing completely.

Again, Wellington residents may struggle to identify the difference.

Work from home?

Already tried that.

Avoid peak hour?

Which one?

Use alternative routes?

Excellent idea. Wellington has several, provided you own a boat, a helicopter or a particularly determined goat.

Even three months later, the Hutt Valley and Wairarapa could remain partly isolated.

Wairarapa residents may simply shrug and say:

“So Tuesday, then.”

The study is, of course, serious. A major earthquake would be catastrophic, and Wellington’s geography gives it some truly horrible transport vulnerabilities.

But there is something beautifully Wellington about needing Auckland academics to calculate that if the roads get badly damaged, the roads will become even worse.

Possibly the most frightening outcome is not that the region becomes paralysed.

It is that, for the first 20 minutes after the earthquake, nobody notices.

THE GOD SQUAD!

CATHOLIC CHURCH SPLITS OVER WHO HAS THE BEST CATHOLICISM

The Society of St Pius X has consecrated bishops without Vatican approval because it believes Rome is no longer Catholic enough.

The Vatican, which has been Catholic professionally for quite some time, disagrees.

So we now have two groups of Catholics accusing each other of doing Catholicism incorrectly.

The argument involves the Latin Mass, papal authority and whether the Church has modernised too much.

MEGA’s translation:

Vatican: We are the one true Church.

Traditionalists: Yes, but you’re doing it wrong.

Vatican: You cannot appoint bishops without us.

Traditionalists: Apparently we can.

Two thousand years after “love thy neighbour”, Christianity continues its proud tradition of arguing over the paperwork.

THE CHURCH SENDS ITSELF A BILL



The Church of England has discovered that slavery was bad.

Admittedly, the announcement is a little late, but bureaucracy takes time.

To make amends, it has set aside £100 million to address its historic links to slave-derived wealth.

Naturally, this has already produced complaints that £100 million is nowhere near enough.

Excellent.

So we have now reached the point where people who never owned slaves are paying people who were never slaves, calculated by committees who were not there.

This is known as historical accounting.

MEGA looks forward to the next stage, when somebody works out the compound interest on the Roman Empire.

The Vikings should probably lawyer up.

The French may owe England something for 1066.

And God help the descendants of Genghis Khan.

None of this means slavery should be forgotten. It was monstrous.

But history should be studied, remembered and learned from — not turned into a 400-year-old invoice with no surviving customer, no surviving supplier and an increasingly enthusiastic accounts department.

Still, £100 million is a serious apology.

For that sort of money, MEGA would at least expect:

“Sorry” in gold leaf, a choir, and free parking.


Third editorial headline

THIS ISN’T “SPIRITUAL WARFARE”. IT’S MENACING NONSENSE.



Brian Tamaki can wrap it in scripture, angels and talk of the “spirit world”, but when a leader and his followers start talking about hit lists, killing, cutting off heads and striking organisations down, people are entitled to take that language seriously.

Calling it metaphor does not magically make it harmless.

This is not some eccentric church service muttering about sin. It is a highly charged political-religious movement naming police, media, government agencies and opponents while using violent imagery and presenting itself as being at war with “evil”.

That is dangerous territory.

The problem is not faith. The problem is what happens when a charismatic leader convinces followers that institutions, journalists, politicians and whole groups of people are enemies deserving divine destruction.

Eventually someone may decide heaven needs a little help.

Tamaki and Destiny Church are entitled to preach, protest and make fools of themselves like everyone else. But threats, intimidation and rhetoric that normalises violence deserve close scrutiny.

Investigate it. Enforce the law. Remove access to weapons where legally justified. And stop pretending this sort of language is harmless just because someone puts “In Jesus’ name” on the end of it.

Religion is not a permission slip for menace.


GOD’S NUCLEAR OPTION

The head of the Russian Orthodox Church has reportedly described Russia’s nuclear weapons as a sign of God’s “grace and mercy.”

Excellent.

Nothing says mercy quite like a weapon designed to erase a city before lunch.

Patriarch Kirill also called the arsenal a “shield for the Motherland” and linked its creation to the prayers of a saint famous for preaching peace.

So the theological position now appears to be:

Blessed are the peacemakers — especially if they have an intercontinental ballistic missile.

There is also the small historical inconvenience that the Soviet regime persecuted the Church, shut monasteries, killed clergy and blew up cathedrals.

But apparently everyone has moved on.

MEGA’s understanding of Christianity was slightly different.

Turn the other cheek.

Love thy neighbour.

Do not vaporise Minsk.

Still, perhaps the Bible is due for a Russian edition:

Thou shalt not kill — unless strategically necessary.


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LABOUR’S COALITION POLICY: ASK US LATER


Chris Hipkins spent months saying voters deserved to know who Labour would work with before the election.

Now the answer is basically:

Vote first. We’ll tell you later.

Especially awkward when Winston Peters has already said he won’t support a Labour government led by Hipkins — while Labour still hasn’t completely ruled NZ First out.

MEGA’s translation:

Transparency is important. Right up until it becomes inconvenient.


PARLIAMENT EXPLAINS PARLIAMENT. NOBODY SURVIVES.

Chlöe Swarbrick was thrown out of Parliament for telling Speaker Gerry Brownlee he has double standards.

Apparently you’re allowed to think the Speaker has double standards. You’re allowed to tell journalists he has double standards. You can probably whisper “double standards” into a pillow at home.

You just can’t tell the Speaker.

At least, that’s what we think happened.

Swarbrick was asking Christopher Luxon about AI data centres. Luxon was answering something involving ordinary data centres. Swarbrick said he wasn’t answering. Brownlee told her to stop shouting. National shouted at Swarbrick for shouting. NZ First’s Shane Jones then shouted “Get her out!”

MEGA’s political correspondent became confused at approximately this point and has not fully recovered.

Then Swarbrick accused Brownlee of letting Winston Peters get away with things other MPs can’t. Brownlee disagrees with her version of events, while Peters recently told another MP to “go back to your own country” and remained comfortably indoors.

So, after extensive analysis, we believe Parliament’s rules are:

Don’t shout. Unless shouting about someone else shouting.

Don’t insult MPs. Sometimes.

Don’t criticise the Speaker. Definitely.

And if you understand any of this, please report immediately to the Press Gallery.

They desperately need someone.

SEVEN PARTIES, SEVEN CURES, ONE BROKE COUNTRY

Four in ten New Zealanders say they are financially worse off than they were a year ago.

That is not a rounding error.

That is a very large chunk of the country standing at the supermarket checkout, looking at the total and wondering whether they accidentally bought the building.

So the politicians were asked what they were going to do about it.

The answers were magnificent.

National says the cure is discipline, lower inflation, business investment and growth.

Labour says the cure is cheaper doctors, cheaper transport, cheaper power and more government help.

ACT says the problem is too much government.

The Greens say the problem is corporate greed, fossil fuels and inequality.

NZ First wants to break up power companies and supermarkets, buy back a bank and go looking for oil.

Te Pāti Māori says wealth is concentrated in too few hands and should be redistributed.

The Opportunity Party says the whole economic machine has been badly designed for about forty years.

Excellent.

So New Zealand’s economic crisis is apparently caused by too much government, not enough government, too much tax, not enough tax, supermarkets, banks, oil, the absence of oil, landlords, bureaucracy, low productivity, corporate greed and possibly the moon.

No wonder nobody knows what the hell is going on.

The funniest part is that the public does not appear particularly convinced by any of them.

The strongest confidence score still failed to reach 50 out of 100.

Which leaves us with a wonderfully simple national mood:

“We’re going backwards.”

followed immediately by:

“And we don’t believe you can fix it.”

Seven doctors.

Seven diagnoses.

One patient.

And every doctor is already writing a different prescription before anyone has agreed what disease we actually have.

YES, REVIEW MMP — JUST WORK OUT THE POLICY FIRST

Christopher Luxon has floated a referendum on MMP.

Good.

MEGA actually thinks the voting system deserves another look.

First Past the Post? No thanks. It can hand enormous power to a party that most voters did not support.

STV is arguably the cleaner democratic system because voters rank actual candidates in order of preference.

Unfortunately, it has one fatal political weakness:

You have to explain it.

And somewhere around “transferable preference”, half the electorate has wandered off looking for the sausage sizzle.

MMP solved some problems but created another peculiar species:

the List MP.

An electorate MP can at least point to somewhere on a map and say, “Those people elected me.”

A List MP represents… the spreadsheet.

MEGA’s preference would therefore be a modified MMP system: retain proportionality, reduce the power and number of list seats, preserve strong local representation, and seriously question whether a country of our size needs quite so many people sitting in Parliament in the first place.

So yes, have the debate.

Review MMP.

Look seriously at STV and modified proportional systems.

But perhaps National could first decide what National’s position is.

Because constitutional reform traditionally works better when the Prime Minister’s own MPs hear about it before the newspaper does.

BLABBER STARTS NOW

Labour has unveiled its 2026 campaign slogan: “Better starts now.”
Which is ambitious, because after years of political promises, “better” has become one of those words that turns up at election time, waves enthusiastically, then disappears until the next campaign.

So MEGA has prepared some alternatives:
Blabber starts now.
Blame starts now.
Borrowing starts now.
Backtracking starts now.
Blaming National starts now.
Buying votes starts now.
Bullshit starts now.

Chris Hipkins says the election is a choice between three more years of hardship or a better future.
Which sounds excellent.

Now all we need is someone to explain when “now” actually starts.

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GREAT NEW ZEALAND INVENTIONS: BECAUSE NORMAL WAS NEVER ENOUGH

New Zealanders have always looked at perfectly adequate technology and thought: “Yes, but can we make it more dangerous?”

In the 1950s, Sir William Hamilton developed a practical water-jet propulsion system so boats could charge through shallow, fast-flowing South Island rivers where propellers were useless. He did not invent the water-jet principle itself, but his engineering made the modern jet boat a worldwide success.

Then came A. J. Hackett and Henry van Asch, who helped turn bungy jumping from a spectacularly bad idea into a business. In 1988 the Kawarau Bridge near Queenstown became the world’s first year-round commercial public bungy site.

Apparently throwing tourists off bridges was still not enough.

In 1994, Andrew Akers and Dwane van der Sluis invented the Zorb: a giant transparent ball allowing paying customers to voluntarily tumble downhill like washing inside a front-loader.

And then Glenn Martin spent decades developing the Martin Jetpack, a Christchurch-linked personal flying machine powered not by jets but by two enormous ducted fans. It became one of the most ambitious attempts to turn the childhood phrase “I want a jetpack” into aviation engineering.

So there you have New Zealand innovation:

Boat too shallow? Add a jet.
Bridge too high? Jump off it.
Hill available? Roll down it inside a ball.
Ground becoming tedious? Strap on two bloody great fans and leave.

NASA invents spacecraft.

Switzerland invents precision watches.

New Zealand invents better ways for tourists to frighten themselves.


HUTT CITY COUNCIL CARES


Hutt City Council would like ratepayers to know it cares deeply.
So deeply, in fact, that after you buy a house, pay rates, maintain the property and somehow survive RiverLink, council may now charge you $3 an hour to park outside your own bloody home.
Seven days a week.
Because nothing says “community wellbeing” quite like making Grandma’s visitors feed a parking meter.
The official explanation is that Riverbank Car Park will eventually close, so residential streets need to become paid overflow parking for everyone else.
Residents, naturally, wondered why they should pay for that.
Council’s answer appears to be: because the decision was made in 2025.
Ah.
So not consultation.
More of a historical re-enactment.
One homeowner calculated two cars could cost nearly $9000 a year to park outside the house she already owns and pays rates on.
Council insists this is not about revenue.
Which is reassuring, because when somebody takes thousands of dollars from you but says it isn’t about money, you instantly feel better.
There are apparently free streets nearby.
Excellent. Ratepayers can now enjoy the exciting new civic service called:
“Park Somewhere Else.”
Meanwhile visitors, tradespeople, nurses, grandchildren and anyone foolish enough to come round for a cup of tea can also contribute to Hutt City’s innovative new vision for neighbourhood life.
And if residents still aren’t happy?
Don’t worry.
Council says it will monitor the situation.
Which is local-government language for:
“We’ll watch you get angry from a safe distance.”
HCC CARES.
It just cares slightly more if you’ve got a credit card.

WHO IS KILLING WELLINGTON — AND DOES ANYONE CARE?

Wellington is dying by a thousand cuts.
Actually, according to the latest count, about 8700 of them.
The Government says it is trimming an overgrown public service. Fair enough. Nobody is going to chain themselves to a photocopier to save the Deputy Assistant Adviser to the Senior Strategic Coordination Unit.
But Wellington has one small problem:
Government was the economy.
Remove thousands of salaries and suddenly the cafés are empty, the shops are quiet, the offices are vacant, house prices wobble and everyone looks shocked.
Who could possibly have foreseen that removing thousands of well-paid customers from a small city might affect the businesses selling them coffee, lunch, legal advice, apartments and $14 sandwiches?
Then there is Wellington itself.
For years the city has made ordinary commerce increasingly difficult with high rates, parking misery, roadworks, empty retail strips and the general civic philosophy that if a business is still functioning, perhaps another consultation is required.
So who is killing Wellington?
The Government?   The Council?   The bureaucracy?   The consultants?   The landlords?
Probably all of them, taking turns with the pillow.
And who cares?
The Government can point at “efficiency”.
The Council can commission a strategy.
Consultants can write a report.
And the last remaining café can close at 2pm because there is nobody left to buy lunch.
The truly magnificent part will come if departments later discover that the work still needs doing and rehire the people they sacked as consultants at twice the price.
Then Wellington will finally have achieved the perfect circular economy:
Fire the worker. Kill the café. Hire the worker back. Call it savings.
But there is one encouraging thought.
Wellington may finally have reached the gutter.
And once you are lying in the gutter, there is only one direction left to look.
Up.
With the right people, the right decisions and a little less enthusiasm for managing decline, Wellington could still drag itself back.
The good news is simple:
We may already be as low as we can get.



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NZDF MAY NEED A TESTOSTERONE POLICY




The Pentagon has apparently decided that American soldiers over 30 should have their testosterone checked, because nothing says modern warfare quite like turning the army into a very heavily armed men’s health clinic.
Meanwhile, New Zealand is heading into an election talking seriously about rebuilding the Defence Force, buying drones, replacing ageing ships and eventually lifting defence spending above 2% of GDP. (The Beehive)
MEGA thinks we may be overcomplicating it.
Forget another capability review.
Test the troops.
Low testosterone? Issue a Hilux, a Swanndri and send them to Waiouru for a weekend splitting firewood.
High testosterone? Straight into the infantry.
Extremely high testosterone? Candidate for Parliament.
Our politicians are promising a tougher, more combat-capable Defence Force. Fine.
But before spending billions on frigates and drones, perhaps establish whether the average Kiwi soldier can still open a jar without calling Logistics.
America calls it the warrior ethos.
New Zealand would probably call it:
“She’ll be right, Sergeant.”


NEW ZEALAND’S GREAT SHOE CRISIS




Apparently shoe retailers are vanishing because Kiwis no longer want to spend serious money on serious shoes.
Which raises an important question:
Were New Zealanders ever really fascinated by shoes?
We are a country that considers jandals formal enough for Christmas lunch.
Sneakers now go everywhere. Crocs have somehow survived public ridicule and become acceptable. Half the population appears perfectly happy wearing footwear designed primarily for taking the rubbish out.
Retailers say quality shoes last longer, fit better and justify the price.
Probably true.
But try telling someone facing a $300 grocery bill that they should also invest $450 in Italian leather because the stitching is excellent.
New Zealanders do appreciate quality.
We just appreciate having money left afterwards slightly more.
So perhaps the specialist shoe shop is not dying because Kiwis stopped loving shoes.
Perhaps we simply never loved them enough to build a religion around them.
Give us comfortable, cheap and vaguely waterproof.
And if they survive a trip to Pak’nSave, they’re practically haute couture.




CRUSHER COLLINS IS BACK — DAYS BAY MAY NEED A BRANCH


Parliament has passed new laws bringing back car crushing for illegal street racing, burnouts, fleeing police, intimidating convoys and other antisocial road behaviour. This time, courts will generally be expected to order offending vehicles forfeited or destroyed unless an exception applies.
The law arrives just as Lower Hutt continues to deal with the same old nonsense. Police have repeatedly targeted gatherings around Petone, Seaview and Eastern Hutt Road, while recent local reports of cars doing donuts and similar behaviour in Days Bay and Eastbourne suggest the entertainment is spreading nicely.
So MEGA proposes cutting out the transport costs.
Put the crusher at Williams Park, Days Bay.
The Eastbourne Men’s Shed could run it.
Government supplies one industrial crusher. The volunteers supply tea, biscuits and decades of accumulated mechanical disappointment.
Car caught doing donuts in Days Bay?
Tow it 800 metres.
By Saturday morning, three retired engineers are discussing whether the spoiler could become shelving and whether the wheels would look nice under a workbench.
The original “Crusher Collins” law famously crushed only three cars.
Eastbourne could probably manage that before morning tea.
And nothing says effective deterrence quite like attempting a burnout outside the Pavilion while six men from the Men’s Shed stand nearby with tape measures waiting to see whether your Subaru will fit in the press.


NATIONAL EMERGENCY: THE TARAKIHI IS DISAPPEARING

New Zealand faces a crisis of almost unimaginable proportions.
Tarakihi stocks are at historic lows. One east coast stock is estimated at only 7.7% of its original biomass.
This is no longer a fisheries issue.
This is a fish-and-chip emergency.
If the tarakihi goes, what happens next?
Hoki?
Gurnard?
Then what?
TOFU IN BATTER?
No.
Absolutely not.
There are lines a civilised country does not cross.
Scientists say catches and management need to change or the fishery could deteriorate further.
MEGA therefore urges immediate action.
Protect the tarakihi.
Rebuild the stocks.
Do whatever responsible fisheries management requires.
Because nobody wants to explain to future generations that we once had proper fish and chips...
...and replaced it with a beige cube of soy wearing breadcrumbs.


FINALLY, PUBLIC TRANSPORT WITH A PURPOSE



East by West Ferries is putting whisky tastings aboard its electric ferry Ika Rere.
At last, Wellington public transport has produced an idea everyone can support.
The ferry is quiet, the harbour is scenic, and instead of spending the trip staring at your phone while wondering why you left home, passengers can sample whisky with an expert and arrive considerably more philosophical than when they boarded.

It is also smart business: use the ferry for more than commuting, turn the harbour into the venue, and give people an actual reason to get on board.

MEGA approves.
Quiet boat. Good whisky. Wellington Harbour.
For once, the transport plan sounds better after two drinks.




THANK YOU, MA’A NONU



Ma’a Nonu has already given New Zealand rugby more than most players ever could.

For years he brought power, skill, toughness and an unmistakable presence to the All Blacks midfield. Now, at 44, he is still playing, still competing and still showing how deeply rugby remains part of who he is.
But his solo haka response to the All Blacks was something more.
Standing alone and answering the haka of the team he represented with such distinction was a remarkable moment — respectful, emotional and incredibly powerful. Nonu said he wanted to honour the All Blacks and the Sharks, and that sense of respect came through completely.
There was no cheap theatre in it.
It felt like one great warrior acknowledging another chapter of the game that helped define his life.

For everything Ma’a Nonu has given rugby, he deserves enormous thanks.
And for that haka alone, he deserves one more standing ovation.

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• HORMUZ ACQUIRED. SAILORS SOLD SEPARATELY.
• AMERICA: NOW WITH EXTRA WATER.
• TRUMP FINDS A COUNTRY WITH NO WALLS.
• TRUMP’S MAP: COLOUR IT IN, CALL IT YOURS.
• HORMUZ: BECAUSE GREENLAND WAS APPARENTLY TOO EASY.
• TRUMP DECLARES WATER AMERICAN. FISH SEEK LAWYERS.
• TRUMP SEES STRAIT. TRUMP WANTS STRAIT. TRUMP HAS STRAIT.
• NEW TERRITORY. SAME OLD METHOD.
• GEOGRAPHY, REVISED BY EXECUTIVE ORDER.

It's Dish of the Month Again.

If you have never tried one of our recipes then what are you waiting for?
another superb creation from the kitchen

Crispy Sambal Coconut Rice with Sticky Tamarind Pork, Charred Pineapple & Peanut Crunch

A slightly unhinged Indonesian-inspired rice dish with sweet heat, acid, smoke and proper texture — somewhere between nasi goreng, satay and a very bad-tempered holiday in Bali.

CLICK TO SEE RECIPE

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