Current Affairs-A-Go-Go III: Ash clouds are teh geeeehbuzzz

Fuck we like a whinge don’t we. I’m no exception, in fact 90% of this blog has been filled with pointless ranting and raving that often culminates in a whole lot of fuck all. Like a New Zealand election debate, except I know how to stick to a topic...well...maybe not, but at least my analogies conjure up a chuckle or two from time to time...well I laugh at them, sometimes. But I digress. What the fuck is the big deal with this Chilean ash cloud. Planes can’t fly coz stuffs gets stucks in the engines. End of. No big deal. Fuck off and come back when planes go fly fly. K? K. Are we that fucking impatient that we’d like for Air New Zealand, Qantas and JetStar to risk our lives and those flying shotgun because we want to get to the Gold Coast and ride the Tower of Terror today instead of in a couples’ time? These are the same dropkicks that, if Qantas (I use Qantas, because out of the three, statistics show they are proven sky droppers, I’m sorry but its true) did decide to fly, and the aircraft plummeted into the ocean like Free Willy ¾ of the way through his escape, they’d want answers. No, they’d demand answers. They’d be crying on Sainsbury, with their kids in full sight about how “we just want answers. We want closure.” Don’t deny it, you would. So shut the fuck up, turn around, and go home until it’s safe to take off. If Benji and the lads can keep a smile and go undies shopping without bashing someone in front of McDonalds, you are all capable of finding suitable time wasting activities. If worst comes to worst, replace one disappointment with another and go watch the new Hangover flick.



Speaking of disappointing, the national media’s coverage of the latest earthquake in Christchurch has been nothing short of disgraceful. I mean, no faces covered in blood and skin falling off, no soot covered babies, no kids screaming in terror. Seriously, you guys have let us down. When it comes to creating nationwide fear, TVNZ, TV3, the Herald etc, usually have our number. But this time round, you’ve dropped the ball, big time. I mean...what, no “disaster jackets” for the pseudo-journalists you employ to make us scaredy? It’s almost as if nothing too strenuous has happened at all, and you’re clutching at straws with what you’ve got...oh...wait. Japan was demolished by a gaggle of Tsunamis (is it a gaggle, or a pod, or a swarm? I don’t know, but gaggle works if you ask me), and you expect people to be scared of the 6-point-something that struck Christchurch on Monday morning? That’s like comparing a tackle from Sonny Bill-Williams four years ago, to one in the modern day. Monday’s earthquake was but a geographical shiver in the age of super-disasters we’ve come to expect post-Boxing Day 2004. My heart and thoughts go out to those in Christchurch, you’ve been through hell in the last 9 months, but the media’s vulturous demeanour has been appalling and doesn’t do anyone any favours. Less pseudo-journalists presenting in front of cordoned off areas, and more stories from the Eastern Suburbs. K? K.



What else has been going on? We’ve covered whinge watch, apocalypse watch, oh I know, binge drinking. That’s always an issue that gets people fired up like a shot of tequila to start the night. Maybe a line of coke or a few ekkies? Not that I would know, I wasn’t a Kings bitch. Haha, ahhhh I’m just playing. In all honesty, the issue is not one which the school should have to comment, rather one which should be posed to the kid’s parents, and if you want to be all Armageddon-socialist-death panel, one which should be posed to society as a whole. Let’s be honest here. He drank more than one glass of bubbles at the party. He did. I don’t care what “facts” are put out, but I was his age once, consumed alcohol at his age once (might have been more, I can’t remember), and when I did, I went hard. It’s what kids do. So cut the bullshit, and admit, the kid was on the piss. Now, the issue of drug use has come up. Now I wasn’t there, so I can’t comment on this particular situation, however being a student at a highly regarded boys school in Auckland, I know that drug use definitely happens amongst pupils that attend them, and the products which are consumed are very easily obtainable. But again, this is not a question of the school, rather the parents and wider society. If we are not going to educate and encourage people to make informed decisions for themselves, we will not cut down the demand for people wanting to go out and get trollied, and we therefore won’t make any impact on the supply. It’s the basic fundamentals of economics. And, in all honesty, even if you switched things up and made an honest (an HONEST) attempt to improve young peoples’ decision making ability, chances are it’d fail. Why? Because kids will always be kids.



Oh, and to cap things off, the Mavs won the NBA, NSW equalled Origin 1-1, the All Whites were smoked, Benji carved the Warriors, Crusaders beat the Blues in the wet, and 8000 people showed up to watch chicks frolic around on a netball court. Peace.

Sega Master System > Current Affairs

It’s been a couple of weeks since I last updated Kicking in Heads, not because I’ve been overly busy at work or home, I just can’t be fucked. Sort of like the New Zealand Herald when it comes to writing for people with a reading age above 12, or our friends at the Bee Hive when it comes to actually solving issues. But alas, I’m back, but not in full force, rather I thought I’d give my top 10 Sega Master System games of all time, because I’m a) a nostalgia geek and b) can’t be arsed commenting on the earthquake, State of Oranges and Ma’a Nonu doing his ‘nana and wanting to play for another wugbee team. Enjoy bitches.

10. Mickey Mouse: Land of Illusion



9. Golden Axe Warrior



8. Bubble Bobble



7. Shinobi



6. Sonic The Hedgehog



5. Wonder Boy in Monster Land



4. Wonder Boy 3: The Dragon’s Trap



3. Ninja Gaiden



2. Ghouls and Ghosts



1. Alex Kidd in Miracle World



Honourable Mentions: Asterix, Donald Duck: Lucky Dime Caper, Altered Beast, Mortal Kombat, Alex Kidd in Shinobi World, Sonic The Hedgehog 2, R-Type, Mickey Mouse: Castle of Illusion

Stunts Are a Man's Best Friend: The high price of commercialism in everday life

Rapper extraordinaire Diamond D said it best in the song Stunts, Blunts and Hip Hop when he debunked the claim that a man’s best friend was not a dog, by arguing that “in the subway or riding in a Benz, whether four eyes or contact lens, sipping Moet or Heineken, some like dark, some like light skinned, some have one and some have ten, some still are and some have been, I'll play the rooster you play the hen, stunts are a man's best friend” where the word stunt refers to somebody of the female persuasion. Though not entirely flawless, I do recognise that Diamond’s argument does not cater for anything other than heterosexual relationships, for the most part I think he hits the nail on the head. It is not the material things which prove to be life’s marvels, rather the reciprocal relationships we as human beings form with others, be it of a romantic, sexual, professional or simple friendly nature, that make life what it is today.

Sure those new Jordans look pretty snazzy on the old feet, it’s nice to look good for that first job interview, a penis enlarger might be useful ahead of that first sexual experience with a new lover and we’d all for the opt part rather show up in a brand new Mercedes as opposed to that ’89 Civic sitting in the drive way, but they are all accessories to the fact. Comedian Chris Rock made an interesting observation, by saying that a man would fuck a woman in a cardboard box if he could. Colourful imagery and language aside, he does pose a fascinating paradigm – if it weren’t for mankind’s seemingly God-given necessity to impress, would we put so much weighting on the decision to purchase the material things in the world?



Here’s one. Why do people have iPods? Outside of a few people I know whereby music is not only a hobby and interest but is a career and lifestyle, the vast majority do not 10gb worth of music to load on to their iPod, let alone over 100. Furthermore, should someone have over 100gb worth of tracks and albums, the chances of them listening to every piece of recorded art on a consistent and constant basis is not only highly unlikely – it is damn near scientifically impossible. They are no more easily transportable than most other MP3 players; their aesthetic quality could be argued either way and they are by no means any cheaper from an economic standpoint. So why is it that everywhere you go, people are tapping on their little Apple produced technological propaganda machines...err...I mean iPods? They even have other MP3 player producers utilising their patented white earphones, to portray the image that they are of an equal standing, as if the colour of the earphones has a bearing on how one may perceive another’s MP3 player. You’ve got to wonder.




I hate to keep bringing up quotes from comedians, but they are an easy and entertaining way of illustrating what can be quite academically profound subjects, neck-deep in copious psychological, sociological and philosophical matter. Comedians not only cut to the chase more quickly, but they also have a knack of accompanying said chase with a humorous anecdote. In the case of consumerism, Dave Chappelle brings light to one of the shadier aspects of marketing, celebrity endorsements. In a stand up comedy special, Chappelle claimed “I don't even know why people listen to me. I'll say anything. I've done commercials for Coke and Pepsi. I don't give a fuck what comes out of my mouth. I say what it takes. Whatever it takes, that’s what I'm saying. If you wanna know the truth, can’t even taste the difference. Surprise! All I know is, Pepsi paid me most recently so... it tastes better.” It’s an image thing, we all know it, yet we all fall for it, time and time and time again.

When you attend funerals, and you’re sitting in your pew sobbing away into your handkerchief, what are the common topics people raise when sharing their memories of their loved one who has passed away. Do they talk about how sweet a person’s BMW was? Do they bring up the extensive collection of technological gadgets when discussing their memories? Is it the size of a person’s swimming pool which determines the impact they have had on other peoples’ lives, and society as a whole? No. It’s the type of person you have portrayed yourself to be through the interaction and socialisation with others which establishes your lasting impression. Sure that other stuff can assist you with this process, but it is in no way, shape or form the key determinant.

So why is it, that in 2011, it is the lyrics of a rapper’s song, which was released in the early 90s might I add, that make more sense than the messages conveyed by corporate powerhouses and big business. You know the world is in a tough spot when said lyrics mean very little to anyone other than a diehard underground Hip hop head, yet Apple, Nike and News Limited have far more say in what direction humanity heads in.

Still love my iPod though.

Current Affairs-A-Go-Go II: Fuckwits-A-Go-Go

Hey there dudes. Listen, I like a good internet craze as much as the next person, I really do. When cats were getting Rick Rolled more than cops impersonating rappers performing basic gymnastics manoeuvres, I was there. When ghost riding the whip had nothing to do with supernatural dominatrix, I was there. When 2 girls 1 cup was taking off, I was in the front row with a chocolate fudge ice cream and caramel milkshake. So yeah, I’m pretty open to people doing stupid shit in the name of getting some sort of “street cred” for it on the World Wide Web. But fuck planking. Let me rephrase that. Fuck planking pre-dude falling off his multiple stories and splattering himself on the pavement. What the fuck is the big deal about dudes lying down? Honestly, the last person who created a media storm from simply lying on their stomach was Jenna Jameson, but at least she had half a dozen penises in her face. I just don’t get it. Planking is like the Napoleon Dynamite of new media crazes. Sure it’s different, and people act like its groundbreaking because it’s a complete 180 from the stuff we’ve experienced before, but at the end of the day, it’s still just a bunch of uncreative motherfuckers doing fuck all.



I watched some dude hatchet of his penis and testicles on the BME Pain Olympics and you expect me to be shocked and amazed and struck down in absolute awe by some guy laying down on a speed bump? Well I’m sorry but unless a car driven at 100km/hour, by Monster Garage host Jesse James or former WWE Champion David Batista refuses to brake and hits the speed bump so hard it severs the guy’s body in two, sending both halves flying in opposite directions like a couple of human-boomerangs, I’m not with it. This is the Grand Theft Auto generation bitches, so you’d better show me some blood and guts, or I’m not giving a fuck, end of...so Imagine my surprise when I read yesterday morning that some dude in Australia falls to his death whilst trying to plank on his balcony rail...now THIS is a craze I’d rally behind. I can’t wait for the next instalment. Plank on a Red Barron-esque WWI fighter plane 1000 feat in the air and fall, plank on the edge of the Sky Tower’s bungee deck and fall, plank on the motorway in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a cardboard box so when a drunk Arab driving his Integra sees you in his lane he doesn’t even consider braking. Wow me guys, wow me.

Speaking of wowing me, the media’s reliance on Twitter posts from semi-famous people for current affairs angles and breaking news stories only further adds fuel to my argument that mainstream media has no conscience, has no ability, has no balls and has no class. It is the technological reincarnation of the fallen beast we call Beelzebub. In an age where competition for audience has never been hotter, costs for hardcopy media have never been higher and demands from corporate investors have never been harsher, you’d think our friends at the Herald would at least try and conjure up something half decent to lure back the educated readers (i.e. the few percent who probably have the ability to purchase papers, respond to high priced advertisements and generally reflect the pinnacle of whom every media outlet should aspire to reach). Furthermore, where New Zealand sport has never been so competitive with our Australian counterparts, you’d think this done-to-death-but-never-too-dead-to-be-rehashed angle would be perfect for catapulting fringe sports into the spotlight, drawing in audiences, old and new alike ,thus further exposing your product and thus your investors’ products to a greater market share, wouldn’t you?




So again, imagine my reaction when I was directed to an article in this morning’s (May 17 2011) Herald, regarding comments made about Northern Mystics shooter Catherine Latu on popular social networking platform, Facebook....Facebook. Yes, the same website where a guy offered to drink his own urine if his group got 10000 members. Yes, the same website where pages promoting David Bain’s innocence drew as many responses as those promoting his fashion sense. The same social networking platform which has such grass roots political movements as “Ugly Niggaz Need Love Too” and where more people have joined “Chuck Norris Facts” then vote in our general election. Hardly the source for stimulating intellectual debate, Facebook provided the Herald for a fantastic angle heading into the Mystics’ ANZ Championship final this weekend against the undefeated Queensland Firebirds after a poster suggested, and might I add correctly suggested, Catherine Latu was overweight. A fatty. That’s right, where other media outfits would be highlighting the tenacity and amazing resurgence of the Tactics, and the David vs. Goliath battle which is bound to ensue when they attempt to climb the unconquerable mountain that is this weekend’s netball grand final, your favourite leading newspaper, and mine (sarcasm alert, sarcasm alert) decides to go with the “fatty angle”. Look, I’m not saying Latu is not a gifted athlete. She might be an allegiance switching swine, but she’s still pretty handy under the hoop. She is however, visibly plump. Chubby. A biggun. Out of shape. For lack of a better word, a fatty. She is, you can’t deny that. That’s not an opinion, that’s a fact based conclusion drawn by one person (probably many more) whose opinion means diddly squat and should not overshadow the fringe sports grandest stage this coming weekend. So do us all a favour, New Zealand Herald, pick up your fucking balls and conjure up something half decent for once. Fuck, if you wanted to run with the fatty angle, produce a full page article profile Latu, her trials and tribulations, how she has come up, all the hard work she’s done to get where she is, and maybe, then maaaaaybe you can mention her weight as being an obstacle (I’m guessing you’d mention it around playing netball when she was younger, try and get that role model type of thing happening). I could write rings around your sad sack sports journalists, but that’s what happens when you have a brain.

Gee wiz, a thousand words already. I’ll be back later this week for more mindless rants. If anyone wants to suggest topics they’d like to see covered, feel free to send them to kickinginheads@gmail.com. I’m not saying I’ll pay attention to your requests, but hey, you never know. Leave your comments below. This Current Affairs A Go Go is fun stuff.

Current Affairs A Go Go

What is it with Kiwis electing these fucking muppets into Government? Furthermore, what is it with Kiwis’ obscure view of democracy, thinking that voting for your dictator on a three year basis is a measure of fairness and equality shows how incredibly small minded our voting population really is. This isn’t a slight against anyone in particular, but if people dislike John Key so much, or are anti-labour, why do you continue to play their little game of noughts and crosses come election time. You fucking idiots, grow some fucking balls and challenge authority for once. It might not appear relevant to you now, but if you think them taking your money and spending it on things that have very little to no relevance to social improvement without consulting you is democratic, when motherfuckers are struggling to purchase a fresh loaf of bread or new shoes for their kids’ feat, then you are clearly delusional. But hey, at least you’ve got the waka, right? Fuck outta here.



Then you’ve got ol’ Top Gun himself claiming a ride on a helicopter as a public expense...come the fuck on! Dude I understand you didn’t want people to think you were taking it as a bribe, great, fantastic, so pay the fee your fucking self! You’re a millionaire for fucksakes, if you can afford to forgo your wage as Prime Minister, you can afford to pay for a hoon on a chopper. End of! Now this whole BMW palaver made me giggle, considering the price of petrol, wouldn’t smaller, more economical vehicles be a smarter idea? Considering you cunts are all “we’ve got to save save save” at the mo with your cutting of Kiwi Saver and Working for Families, how about saving the Public a bit of loot at the fuel pump and trade the Beamer in for a Sirion or Getz. Seriously, it seems like such a no-brainer, mind you, considering who votes these idiots into parliament in the first place, we shouldn’t be surprised.



Yeah, bit of an agenda-free rant, so let’s go with Kyle Chapman next. You crack me up Chapster, seriously you really do. You claim to have this movement, yet judging by the level of professionalism of your marketing campaign, the Right Wing Resistance is barely a ripple. Bitch I have more friends on Facebook than your little club has members, and half of them are fake! Seriously, if you’re going to be a racist fuckwit, at least make a decent effort of it, instead of showing up on Sainsbury’s wankfest more unprepared than Norman Bates without an attic. Dude your organisation is so pathetic it makes the Tuhoe Rama look like the Weather Underground. Even right wingers were shaking their heads in disbelief last night as you bumbled your way through that interview: your organisation is so pathetic it makes traditional right wing politics seem logical – and that’s saying something! What’s your beef with Asian people anyway? Is it because you’re so fucking ugly not even a Thai ladyboy would suck you off? Talking about communism, as if our “democracy” is any measuring stick for perfection of government...get the fuck out of here. If anything, with the amount of persecution conducted by the so called “Communist” Chinese government (I say so called, because much like our so called democratic government, they not exactly “play by the rulebook” set out by their philosophical ideology) based on ethnic, spiritual and cultural diversity, you’d be all for getting your neighbourhood Beijing-ed out. Destroying New Zealand culture? As if Europeans haven’t done any of that themselves, and wears an ear ring probably made out of conflict mined gold. You sir, are a douchebag, not because you have an opinion, no, it’s because you have an ill-informed, ill-researched, ill-prepared opinion. Fuck, at least Hitler did his research. Cool scarf bro.



Where do I stand on the issue, in my opinion, there is no issue. He’s another fuckhead trying to tell us all what to do and think, I don’t know a) how they let him on TV and b) how they managed to shrink the picture down so it could fit on my widescreen. Seriously TVNZ, is the quest for ratings that bad that you let a guy whose group is hardly a group, more of a small gathering between friends, come on and embarrass himself...oh I get it...it was lambs to the slaughter sort of stuff wasn’t it...”People are starting to doubt Sainsbury as a legitimate threat to Politicians’ agendas come election debate time, let’s rebuild his reputation by feeding him a few easy beats.” Fuck, who’s next? Simon Barnett wanting to smack his kids up again? That guy who was going around knocking on whore customers’ car windows? Does Brian Tamaki need some publicity for his new line of cologne? Seriously, in wrestling they call it jobbing, and that takes place largely off air or in cut-segments, not main events. Up your fucking game TVNZ.


Ummm what else. My review of the ANZAC Test. Unfortunately I can’t remember any of it due to the beers, and have yet to see the replay, but I did have a guy with ginger hair and a rat’s tail sitting in front of me who wouldn’t shut his mouth the whole game. That and we lost Brad, who was sitting on the other side of the grandstand, contrary to where his ticket had suggested sitting.

Chur.

Flick Passes and Bicycle Kicks: Professional sport's struggle with corporate interest

In an era of monotonous tactics and manufactured playing styles, all done in the name of strategy, it is always a breath of fresh air when someone runs against the grain and plays their natural game. It is always a bonus when it pays off and said sportsman succeeds whilst doing so. There should be very little bewilderment as to the reasons why the likes of Sonny Bill Williams, Benji Marshall, Lionel Messi and Dwayne Wade are so damn popular in their respective sporting codes. All four refuse to conform to the “strategic play” offered up in a time where sporting analysis and game plan development seem to be as influential as the players themselves.

The fact is, with so much pressure on coaching staff, players, clubs, club executives, corporate sponsors and television moguls; the need to win matches often blinds the true reasons why people are interested in sport in the first place – entertainment. We watch to be amazed, we play to progress on the journey to success as a team, and we coach to lead others to reach their goals, dreams and aspirations. None of us, when we were five years old, gave a shit about merchandise deals. None of us when we were five years old gave a shit about television ratings. None of us when we were five years old gave a shit about the market value of sports people. It was the game that drew us in – end of.



Now I’m not bagging professionalism in sport – in fact I generally feel quite the opposite. It gives me great joy to see a guy come from nothing, play his heart out and eventually get that opportunity to step into the spotlight and try and pave his way towards a sporting career. It gives me greater success to see people carve out that career. Someone like Joe Galavao, in my mind, has done what so few else have failed to achieve – he’s had to switch rugby league clubs at least four times to ensure his dream is kept alive, he’s been dropped, injured and told he wasn’t needed, yet he still had the balls to stick it out and prove the critics wrong. Today, he’s starting for one of Sydney’s leading NRL clubs and probably has a decent looking bank account to boot. To me, Joe Galavao is a shining representation of what sport can provide for a young kid from the streets of South Auckland who dares to dream.



What I will say, is that professionalism and sport has created a number of external factors which appear to be having a direct impact on the intrinsic qualities which make sport such an entertaining commodity to market in the first place. What does the pressure to win mean for the likes of Dan Carter, heading into the biggest season of international rugby union he, and the All Blacks, have arguably ever faced. Will he chance his arm with five to go when the All Blacks are down by three? Or will they work the ball toward the middle of the pitch so he can have a crack at field goal? When people stream through those gates come World Cup time, you can bet your bottom dollar they aren’t doing it to watch field goal-a-thons, and when they run promotional packages on TV leading up to the Cup, you can bet your bottom’er dollar that they won’t be including much footage of penalty goals. Rugby fans know the story, they’ve seen it the last four Cups in a row, and nobody will be surprised as to what may happen in those final stages as the pressure is amplified.

It’s a double edged sword of sorts, as I’ve somewhat touched on above. Players, clubs, executives, coaches, TV moguls and corporate sponsors are all after the same thing – success. Players want to win, in order to reach their goals and pocket some cash in the process. Clubs want success so that their image will attract the fans through the gates and the expenditure which comes with it. Execs’ want success so that they can market their club as an avenue whereby corporate sponsors will want to spend some of their marketing budget, whilst the sponsors themselves want to align themselves with the most cutting edge popular culture products they can. TV moguls want people to tune in, the more people who do so, the more money they can demand from advertisers based on the heavily flawed Neilson ratings system. All of this can be achieved through spontaneity, creative flair and sporting brilliance – which it should, though often is compromised with the fear that throwing the dice may turn up a one instead of a six.



Sporting codes try and conjure up rules and methods to promote attacking and exciting play, but what this does is often compromise why that sport was so popular and exciting in the first place, case in point – rugby union. It’s going to happen to football too, despite traditionalists holding on for dear life, as soon as technology is utilised, the spiral will begin to spin downwards. It’s happened to rugby league, though thank fuck the game has managed to reinvent itself and absurd amount of times to cater for all the problems that come with rule changes and implementations. Look at the joke that is world cricket. What they really need to do is start at the grass roots and encourage sporting play whereby those with the big bucks have little to no say as to what happens on the field. Clubs and codes alike have to have the balls to stand up to big business and say by all means invest in us, we will deliver, but trust in our sport to do so. You don’t see many footy players questioning the ability of Nike to market their sporting apparel to women in their 50s, yet there is little doubt the MNC athletic wear company has huge influence in the way many clubs and teams operate, based on the dollar factor. Yet if they weren’t exciting and original in the first place, that money would never have been invested.



To put it simply – Imagine of Benji Marshall played like Peter Wallace. Imagine if Sonny Bill Williams played like Brendon Laney. Imagine if Lionel Messi played like Chris Killen. Imagine if Dwayne Wade played like Paul Henare. No one would give, for lack of a better term, a flying fuck, about any of these sports people. It is because they are so damn good the way they are that they are so successful in the first place. You want to know the reason why English football is in the gurgler on the international playing level? Look no further than corporate interest. You want to know why New Zealand cricketers have no timing, no footwork and no ability to read the play? Look no further than corporate interest. You want to know the reason why the New Zealand Herald provides very little analysis in their sporting coverage? Look no further than corporate interest.

Long live the flick pass, the banana kick, the alley oop and the bicycle kick.

Twisters, Terrorists and Team Sports

What a week for news fellow procrastinators, what a week indeed. We had the United States announce they had finally done the deed on Osama bin Laden, well at least that’s the story they’re feeding us. Which is all good, I’m so far beyond Cable news and government information having any effect over the way I perceive the world, that I am fairly non-chalent about the whole deal. They probably had him dead yonks ago but need this to build American spirit going into another decade of the war on oil. Even if he is dead, the price they would pay of having the whole world learn of his CIA ties would be enough to cause mass-revolt in the land of the thieves, home of the slaves (thanks Brother Ali, you’re tops). Any who, should provide some great material for comics...we all get sick of the racism, women, sex, when I was a kid formula. Which is why I love Bill Hicks. He calls people cunts on stage, it makes me giggle. Hehe.

Then to top that, the North Shore was rampaged by a tornado of Biblical proportions...well maybe not Biblical, I mean, it was hardly Oklahoma City sort of stuff but still caused a bit of chaos nonetheless. Smashed up a Pak-N-Save and the Albany Mega Centre, if anything it shows that God dislikes the impact that large retail franchises are having on local retail and for once in his life decided to do something about it with through the only way he knows how: through a dangerous rotating column of air. I kid, I kid – if anything history has shown God is more likely to use water to vent his wrath through floods, tsunamis, monsoons etcetera. This was clearly the work of some other force, something far more terrorizing, something far more savage, something far more tangible. I’m talking of course, about the Tasmanian Devil.

You may know him by his scientific name – Taz, and in the early 90s, he wreaked havoc all across the land done under where the sky remained yellow whether it rains or shines. Come to Tasmania, come to Tasmania. What we really should be addressing and what the media refuses to investigate with fear of facing corporate backlash from media Magneto, Time Warner, is how and why this animated beast decided to vent his frustration through the suburbs of Glenfield and Albany. We can only speculate – but my money’s on North Shore party goers, particularly the male consortium, all wearing matching collared shirts, usually white in colour. Either that or he caught something after bedding a frisky female Tasmanian devil after a night out in Taka, and the only way he knew how to deal with it involved spinning anti-clockwise at the speed of sound to the point where he couldn’t control his own momentum. But whether it was an act of deity or an act of anime, one thing is for sure, folks on the Shore will never feel the same way about part games involving placing body parts on coloured circles on a white mat again. See what I did there?

To cap it off, a hat trick of surprise in the news this week was topped off with perhaps the greatest public bombshell of all. Prepare yourself folks, because it doesn’t get much bigger than this. We all remember how we felt watching 9/11 unfold, the Japanese Tsunami and Joel Monaghan putting his in the jaw of a Labrador/retriever cross. Yes folks, this is bigger than high profile sportspeople being photographed partaking in drunken acts of bestiality. I opened up this morning’s Herald(Wednesday 4th May for those belated readers), which I’d like to point out we get free at work, if I wanted to pay money for garbage I would have bought Derty Sesh’s record. Sorry dude, no offence, I just think lyrically you lack substance. So yeah, I opened up the paper, only to find that your favourite fuckwit, and mine, has written something positive about Rugby League. That’s right folks; Chris “The I Have No Analytical Ability So Resort to Mindless Ranting” Rattue has given props to the Kiwis ahead of their showdown with the Kangaroos on the Gold Coast this forthcoming Friday evening.

It felt like the ground moved slightly as I gasped in absolute shock when reading Rattue’s sentiments. Now I know how the cast of Tremors must have felt, if only the special effects had been given more attention. Sure his analysis of the players in both teams was done with any real logic, but that should come of no surprise when reading the works of a writer who has the journalistic integrity of a test tube baby raised and reared in a secret room at Fox News headquarters in New York City. Now don’t jump to any conclusions her News Ltd., I love what O’Reilly’s doing with his comb over, YouTube still has some value despite the bullshit copyright laws, and you do own half of my favourite NRL team – but if a scientific study were carried out and the statement “there’s two sides to every story” was indeed proven true, your media outfit would be the statistical anomaly.

Now here were we – ah yes Chris Rattue. Now I’m not sure if it was the Herald’s anti-World Cup campaign, which for the record they stole from my friend Brad who was anti-World Cup without having a fact-based gripe long before any stupid fucking newspaper, but Rattue seems to have come to terms with that incident in the Fowldes Park car park I referred to in an earlier blog entry, and is making an attempt to move on. Good for you Chris, good for you. I true share your excitement for this Friday night’s ANZAC Test, the difference being however, that I am a TRUE FAN, and am willing to PAY MY OWN WAY to get there and see the game FIRST HAND and enjoy the sporting experience as a TRUE FAN would. That is not to say that I applaud your writing ability at all, and your anecdotes fall short of the mark. Sure, mine are a little out there, but at least they garner a chuckle from time to time and are able to get the reader to develop images within their heads. Yours do too, but the images involve you self and a cattle prod.

Rattue’s article shows that he is not fully over his rugby league nightmares however, as he stumbles back in to old habits, bagging a Warriors side who managed to defend well against a Penrith attack running with the win at their backs in the first half, whilst destroying them in the second. Rattue and I must have been watching different games; though I guess the game does look a little different watching Sky’s mediocre (at best) coverage from inside your propaganda-funded mansion instead of being at the game in person and actually experience what it is to see Rugby League live in the flesh. I felt that Penrith ran very well in that first half, with only drop ball and fantastic scrambling defence from the Warriors preventing them from scoring more than once. But that is just my opinion, and hey, what would I know, I’m not paid by a paper to write as much dribble as I can possibly conjure in order to feed the minds of idiots and garner a plethora of complaints from people who actually possess brain cells alike. But I digress.

A crazy week for news dudes, let’s hope the Kiwis get up and we round off an n incredibly shocking week with something a little more predictable: easy girls at WAXYS on the Coast. Chur.

ANZAC fever

I've got ANZAC fever, and I'm not talking about the type you get after sleeping with a dodgy female-ish creature after an all nighter at Kings Cross. No no guys, as an avid Rugby League fan, April-slash-May means one thing - ANZAC Test time. The one time a year New Zealand stands a chance before playing Australia and disappoints rediculously practically every time. The Kiwis in ANZAC Tests are like the fat chick in school, desperate to score though more often than not fall short of the mark. Nevertheless, come May 6th I shall embark over the ditch to the Gold Coast, where I will witness my faithful Kiwis attempt to break a 13 year droubt and bring home the goods, which despite history being against them, they stand more chance at doing than Chris Rattue writing a logical article. And thats saying something.

Seven rounds in, and the NRL has already shown that when it comes to football in the Southern Hemisphere, Rugby League is head and shoulders above the competition. Whether its been the emergance of up and coming superstars such as Ben Barba, the ressurection of the Brisbane Broncos on the back of Darren Lockyer and Justin Hodges, the forever delayed flight that is the Hayne-plane or the hillarious public fuck up that Todd Carney keeps revealing himself to be, 2011 has had it all. We even had those cute little fellas that play for the Kiwis and poke their tongues knock someone out, and be knocked out, respectivly. Yep, 2011 has had it all, and on May 6th, shit gets personal.

I love my NRL, I love my Origin, but for me, its International Rugby League that garners my attention the most. I was there when we beat Australia in 2003, when we won the World Cup in 08, when we won the Four Nations last year, and countless other classics, including the match where David Kidwell smashed that dickwhotalkedabsoluteshitabouthavinganyshotatsecuringanNFLcontract Willie Mason. Despite what the critics say about the elgibility policy and it being looser than Millie Holmes after a night in with the boys, it very rarely fails to deliver. Unlike Millie, who is probably prone to consuming the product before it reaches its designated destination. But thats another point completely. Oh look, another pun about her P habit. I guess I can't stop. Oh, there goes another one.

With that, Kicking In Heads returns to your monitors and wanky smartphones and even wankier iPhones with its Squad hand picked by yours truely, to meet the Kangaroos at Ribena-I beg your pardon-Skilled Park. If you disagree with the selections, feel free to post who you would pick in the comments section, but lets be honest, my opinion means fuck all anyway. Let's get on with it shall we.

1. Lance Hohaia

As custodian, Lance has had fairly good success with the Warriors and the Kiwis, particularly in the World Cup Final where he single handedly swung the match in New Zealand's favour. Sure he was tackled early by a guy who would eventually go on to stick his dick in a dog's mouth, and he probably wouldn't have got to the ball anyway, Lance Hohaia that is, but it was still a pivotal moment nonetheless. Don't let his recent form fool you, he'll do the job come May 6th. Besides, who else would you put here, the 300 thousand dollar Vulcan, Inu? Hahahahahahahahahahahaha, you crack me up more than a Shaun Metcalfe punt to the sternum.

2. Matt Duffie

Don't let his attendance of Auckland's St. Kents College confuse you, he's also good well skilled at holding onto non-human balls, and over the last couple of years, Duffie has been one of the more well-rounded Toyota Cup players to make the step up into the Premiership. He's scored a bunch of tries since debuting in last year's World Club Challenge, is solid on defence and seems to be able to read the play fairly well. It makes a difference having a winger who can read in general, which always helps too.

3. Lewis Brown

Its either this cunt or Matai, and over the last couple of years Lewie has been tearing the fringes up like Sailor Moon fiending for a point. We are skinny as shit in the three quater department, yet seem to have an abundance of second rowers, and as the Kiwis will be up against a monster centre pairing which will feature any combination of Hodges, Inglis and Idris, having someone who can hit hard on defence, and take it to the opposition on attack will be crucial. That, and he can bust through a hole harder than *insert NRL player accused of sexual misconduct here*.

4. Shaun Kenny-Dowell

Kenny-Dowell was the New Zealand Rugby League player of the year last season, and played a crucial role in securing the Four Nations title for the lads midway through November 2010. Sure his initials make him sound like a newly discovered sexually transmitted disease, and his styles is equally if not more infectious, but Shaun has been clean as a whistle with the Steeden, and has the amazing ability to run an angle, something New Zealand three quaters have struggled to do since Nigel Vagana fancied himself as a five-eighth, without a kicking or passing game, you know, James Maloney sorta stuff.

5. Jason Nightengale

The first Australian in my line up, and not a resentment about picking him, is Jason Nightengale, who has been the form winger of the comp for the past one and a bit seasons, applying his trade at the Dragons. I figure he's due another big one for the lads in black, and with Bennett leaving for the Knights next season, I suggest we pick him quick, as we never know what he'll be like under an average coach next season. Use him when he's on form, then throw him on the scrap heap when...I mean if...he turns to shit next season. He's a gun.

6. Benji Marshall (c)

You know, I was sorta bummed Benji wouldnt have a photo taken with us at the conclusion of last year's Four Nations match, but then after seeing him carry on like he was the Tama fucking Iti of the rugby league world outside a Sydney McDonalds at the beginning of the year, I'm glad. Nevertheless, if was racism or him not liking the truth about Darren Lockyer being leagues ahead of him, we'll never know, and the fact is, dude's been in rich form for the Kiwis these last few years. Sure there was a dodgy try in the World Cup that he scored, and the forward passathon that was Fieny's effort last year, but who gives a fuck about fairness, we won bitch! That and he looks cute doing the haka, which is always nice.

7. Keiran Foran

Foran's been in good nick for the Sea Eagles this season, and will pick up his third test jersey for the 2011 ANZAC test. Funny little fact about Foran, as much like Benji Marshall, he represented Australia at schoolboy level. His brother, Liam, who disappeared off the face of the earth quicker than the smoking gun on the Grassy Noll, has recently signed on to join his brother at Manly, and also plays in the halves. We may one day get to see the brothers combine in the halves for New Zealand, but lets hope they don't pull a Henry and Robbie Paul and get all faggy with the hairdos and Pommy accents.

8. Sam Rapira

Its not his fault his coach has him playing a one-off-the-ruck style of play which limits his effectiveness. Rapira is an awesome talent, who hits the line at pace and takes a lot to shut down. As with Kiwis teams in the past, our forwards are the key, and the more they can drag their underwhelming Australian counterparts, yes their forwards are incredibly vulnerable I said it, into an arm wrestle, the greater the chance we have at winning. That and he smashes more cunts than Ridgey.

9. Nathan Fien

Aussie number two, not good enough for the Warriors, the man who is to be replaced by a guy equally as old, half as talented, and almost named exactly the same, Nathan Fien would start as hooker if I had my way. The guy can play a shitload of minutes and star in a shitload of roles, be it scooting out of dummy half, taking two steps to play pivot, kicking from behind the ruck, or just generally rarking shit up with the opposition. He's a rare breed, and we should thank God, aka Wayne Bennett, for snapping him up before the Super League could get their egg-n-bacon covered mits on him.

10. Roy Asotasi

The former Captain who has been in terrible form the past couple of seasons seems destined to redeem himself, and I'd have him in my starting front row, if anything to provide a bit of stability. Most league fans would know that our younger bulls can have the tendency to start getting a bit silly, I think Roy would do the business, especially in those early clashes with the likes of Gallen, Bird and the like. Pity he plays for Souths.

11. Alex Glenn

The Cook Island international seems destined for higher, and lets be honest, less shit, honors as the former Brisbane Under 20s captain hits his strides in the big time this season. He's been in more fucking positions than Jenna Jameson, though the second row seems to be his sort of gig. I like my second rowers mobile and capable of an offload, so lets go with Glenn to start.

12. Adam Blair

You might know him as the guy who pokes his tongue out when leading the haka, but what you might not know is that Adam Blair was born in Whangerei, and thus is one of the few Kiwis who actually has Maori heritage. Hmm. Go figure. Anyways, used to be a prop, now plays in the second row, has dropped a bit of weight, and seems to be going good on the fringes. Let's have him here, with the option of moving closer to the ruck if shit gets a bit messy. I'd love to see him flatten thatcunt Snowden if he gets the nod.

13. Jeremy Smith

Don't let his Christchurch heritage fool you, he's anything but shaky when it comes to footy, and in the Four Nations final last year he proved to the world what a tough cunt he truely is, forcing that girlfriend-glassing dropkick Greg Bird, who also plays for New South Wales by the way, to drop his nuts faster than a squirrel with KY on his hands. Which knowing Greg Bird, probably happens a little too literally from time to time. Anyway, Smith's a very good defender, has squiggles drawn on his arms, and can play a shitload of minutes, which we need as most of our forwards get gassed quicker than your car by these fuckwit attendents at service stations these days. Seriously, what is up with these idiots. Smithy for 13 though

Interchange

Isaac Luke Goes well when given the chance off the bench, has fantastic ability to scoot and contrary to what his size may suggest, is a fantastic defender. Great talent to put on if a half goes down and Fieny has to switch, or to switch things up behind the ruck.

Frank Pritchard Has had a rollercoaster career with the Kiwis, the highlight of which being the kinghit he put on AFL Superstar Harmichael Kunt. Sure he's an Aussie (no. 3), but we like him anyway, and after shedding the winter blanket over the off season, he'll be the one fill the spot Sika Manu previously had when it came to running wide. Can also play a bit of front row too.

Bronson Harrison If it werent for Alex Glenn's stellar season so far, Bronny would be a certain starter. Nevertheless, he'd be in my team. He gives the Aussies shit, tackles hard, and is just a good cunt to have on should a stink erupt. The Raiders are going shithouse, but Harrison will do wonders with a quality pack and halves combo on May 6th.

Frank-Paul Nuuausala One of Mangere East's finest will be the frontrower who I'd have on the bench. He can punch through the line with relative ease, can run an angle, and can smash dudes on D. That and he's half Samoan, 1/4 Soloman Island and 1/4 Chinese, which makes him a perfect candidate for the already multinational national side that is the Kiwis. Which is funny, coz we always bitch about Tonie Carroll.

The other three I'd have in the squad would be: Simon Mannering, Fui Fui Moi Moi and Junior Sau, with Kevin Proctor and Josh Hoffman being the young guns gaining Kiwis camp experience and just getting rowdy with the boys on the piss afterwards.

That's the team that will hopefully drag Australia to a low enough level to allow the Kiwis to snatch their third straight victory on Queensland soil. I'm not overly confident, but given the amount of smashness we have in the pack, I think we'll atleast see plenty of fireworks. Get amongst it. Could be worse, could be watching South African Super 15 interconference matches, or the Melbourne Rebels...seriously Denan, you couldn't even make that footy side? I heard the 'Nix are looking for some speed on the flanks...

Excuse me Mr. Cleaver, but I'll have to cut you off...

Lol, lol, lol. My puns make me chuckle. Almost as much as Dylan Cleaver’s column regarding the Halberg Awards mere hours after the winners were announced. In Cleaver’s column, which can be viewed at the New Zealand Herald website, he declares war on the Halberg Awards Committee, for having the audacity to overlook our cherished little All Blacks in favour of the big bad All Whites, as the national football side rape and pillaged their way through the ceremony like a rugby league side during happy hour on Mad Monday.

How dare the Committee give credit to a sporting side which stood up to top 20 nations such as Paraguay and the defending world champions Italy and grinded out draws (and in the case of Italy, struck first). How dare the committee congratulate Ricky Herbert and his pack of ceremony molesters for gutsing it out in front of billions of legitimate viewers worldwide (not the kind IRB and the Rugby World Cup Committee invent to justify their expenditure to Government officials and their attractiveness advertisers and Corporate partners). I tell ya, if our saviour, Richard “Jesus Part II: This Time its Personal” McCaw, hadn’t been given recognition over that Chief award violator Ryan Nelson, there would have been riots in the streets. By crikey, I’m just as angry as you Mr. Cleaver, the only difference being my sarcasm.

Let’s cut to the chase: who gives a flying fuck about the Halberg Awards. You said it yourself, the Committee is overly bureaucratic and the voting process is flawed – we’ve known this for years – so why would you buy into the hype surrounding the ceremony if you already disagree with the entire thing to begin with? You only have to look back at history at the times Rugby League has been overlooked because of the nature of those who make up the committee, or the considerable bias given to track and field and rowing – two niche markets which outside of Olympics year couldn’t draw a crowd if their performance enhancing drug tests depended on it.

Furthermore, if you’d taken the time to look at the nature of awards ceremonies in general, you would see that they are subject to bias, lack of logic and misinformed opinions. Anything which utilises non-black and white criteria is going to be grey in the shade department, and awards ceremonies are greyer than a Winston Peters’ sex party...haha, I’m such a funster. As a “legitimate” journalist writing for a “top” media outfit, why would you bother with something so trivial and subject to falsities?

I think I know why – because there is public interest, because people like contests, and it will sell papers, draw viewers and stir up talk back controversy. Which makes me wonder, Mr. Cleaver, why you can’t see how anyone could think the All Whites deserved the honours, because their performance ticks all the above boxes as well as the invisible one which is, believe it or not, many New Zealanders couldn’t give a Tim Southee mile high club escapade about rugby. Its law of averages sort of stuff, and you and many others should just get over yourselves and support your code in the ways you can – purchase the merchandise, go to the games, purchase Sky memberships to drive ratings up and visit the websites. Money is the only thing which matters when determining which sport is chief (In which case your faithful rugby would also fall short as the posted a loss).

It seems, Mr. Cleaver, that you’ve let your All Blacks scarf and your All Blacks key ring get in the way of quality journalism and genuine debate. We shouldn’t be talking about the legitimacy of a fucking Awards ceremony, as a paid journalist, I expect more from you, and your buddies. How about writing a column or two about the undemocratic process that is Government funding for local sport, or about the effect that hypothesised television audience figures have on professional sport, or the effect that sporting merchandise made in the third world has on the growing divide between the haves and have nots.

But most of all, how about you use the influence and resources you have at your disposal to partake in some quality journalism, and for lack of a better phrase, grow some fucking balls.

(Look, no Beaver Cleaver references!!!)

Talentless Hack - The Chris Rattue Story

I know it’s wrong to make threats against people, violent threats, involving automatic arms, tonnes and tonnes of ammunition, biological weaponry, high quantities of explosives and laser dildos – but Chris Rattue, this time I think I’ll make an exception.

You sir, are a muppet. And by muppet I’m not referring to the highly entertaining children’s show which made millions of dollars based on its unique characters, off the wall humour, brilliant dialogue and top-notch marketing. No. Because juxtaposing your talentless carcass with a phenomenon as luminous as the Muppets, would be an overstatement of South Serial Rapist back catalogue proportions. You sir, are a different sort of muppet. A muppet of the fuckwit variety.

Your vendetta against Sonny Bill Williams, disguising the lack of analysis in your already sub-standard journalism, is nothing short of pathetic. It really is the stuff high school tiffs are made of, and I’m honestly surprised that Zack, Slater, Kelly, the Screech and the rest of the cast from Saved by the Bell haven’t shown up in your opinion “columns” yet. Seriously, were you molested in the Fowldes Park car park? Touched inappropriately to the point you quivered as a 40-something tradesman inserted a 12-inch dildo deep into your nether regions? Because you’re anti-league sentiments are beginning to make us all wonder Gracie.

It’s ok to have an informed opinion or an educated bias. I know I do. Most people who know me, know I can’t stand Rugby Union as a sport, which correlates to my despise of it as a promotion tool and a television product. I have friends who play the game, I am a fan of some of the marquee athletes who play the sport, I’m fond of the GCs at the grassroots level, and blokes like Richard Turner aren’t half bad either. But the sport, as a whole, lacks the intensity, creativity, flair and ruthlessness that other sports produce in droves. In my opinion, Rugby Union is what it is – antiquated and boring, and its attempts at transforming itself into a hybrid Union/League combo make it look watered down and second-rate. I know Europeans can’t get enough of the sport, but that passion only exists where there have been decade-long prejudices against other codes heavily enforced by high levels of government, social hierarchies and corporate business. That is my opinion – I watch many different codes – NFL, rugby league, mixed martial arts, boxing, professional wrestling, the odd NBA and AFL game, football, and none are as piss boring as Rugby Union. I have an educated bias, you may not agree with my sentiments, but you can’t disagree with my logic.

However you, my unintelligent, illogical, nonsensical little friend, you are nothing short of a disgrace. Your analytical ability makes Fox News look like the Huffington Post, and your grudge against Sonny Bill Williams resembles the plot of a failed television series pilot, starring Jonathon Taylor Thomas and Shannon Doherty. No one is saying you have to like the guy, hell my opinion of the guy is mixed at times, but if you are going to write an article and make certain judgement calls – back your fucking shit up. Article upon article upon article questioning Williams’ ability on the rugby field and criticising his decision to box, none of which have any justification, have exposed you for what you are, a talentless, little man. From what I saw of Sonny Bill Williams on the field in 2010, on the whole I would say he was head and shoulders above 95% of the midfield backs currently playing in this country, third only behind Conrad Smith and Ma’a Nonu, two blokes who have cemented themselves as the best centre duo in the world thanks to near-five years experience playing together. Sure he had a poor performance in a test – everyone does, do you remember Christian Cullen being dropped for dropping the ball over the tryline a decision which forwent the countless times he had dotted over the line and won the All Blacks matches in the past? One poor performance doesn’t define a career, Mr. Rattue, if it did, Captain headache would have been playing in Europe long ago.

And as for the boxing, it is on pay per view, so as a so called “boxing fan” you don’t have to watch it. However as a so called “boxing fan” you would know that heavyweights are piss boring to watch and have been for close to a decade and this is a statement which pay per view figures backs up. The fact that they are charging $30.00 to purchase the event is nothing short of a rip off – but nothing is stopping you popping in a Buffy dvd instead. Quit crying like a little, for lack of a better word, bitch and grow the fuck up.

I could point out case upon case of your lack of journalistic ability and analytical prowess, but we could be here all day. You called Sonny Bill Williams’ issue with his leg a stress fracture, which it isn’t. You called the officials who run the NRL “sad suits”, despite the game breaking attendance and ratings records last season. This one’s for the readers – Chris Rattue actually said the NRL was better without the salary cap, as a one-eyed Brisbane Broncos fan with a vested interest, I’d agree. But despite its flaws and issues surround its policing, I must admit the levelling of the competition has led to a greater interest – fans were sick of seeing Brisbane and Manly crush every team in their path. If you want to look at what happens when the talent isn’t spread more evenly, look no further than New Zealand Rugby. Mr. Rattue, you contradict yourself so often it’s not even remotely funny, sort of like a Will Ferrell film which doesn’t star Vince Vaughn. You criticise the NRL for not adopting the survival of the fittest attitude with regards to player retention, yet criticise the NZRL for allowing Williams a clause in his contract to box professionally in exchange for his image and ability on the pitch leading up to the World Cup.

You need to get that 12 inch dildo out of your ass: just because the paper you write for encourages dumbed down, uninformed columns utilising content rehashed from press releases and hearsay, doesn’t mean that you do. That is all for now, hope you enjoy the fight this weekend, I know you’ll be secretly rooting for Sonny. And cheering for him too.