Because I'm Lazy Part VI

Another day of doing not much, so here's another retread from 2012.

Dick Fritter's Salute to John Key

It was another masterful display in the House yesterday, as the Prime Minister ran rings around the Opposition yet again.

Dick Fritter: More Diversionary Tactics

I'm all about the love, is me. I don't mean the sort I have to pay for, though at least that way I get to choose what I want and how I want it done, and get to skip that tedious period before the action starts trying to warm her engine, so to speak.

No, the kind of love I'm talking about is the love I bear for this government. They're magnificent. There's not a principle they won't compromise on.

I've worked with a lot of politicians in my time all around the world, and the ones I always found hardest to handle were the ones with moral qualms. Whether it is the soft European liberal who won't use compromising photos to blackmail his political opponents, or the lily-livered African general who refuses to machine-gun the children of his enemies, I've had to deal with my share of people who just won't listen to sound advice.

John Key's government, however, continues to display all the signs of an administration without any strong guiding principles, beyond clinging to power for as long as possible. It has no plan for the economy, and it cynically picks on the most vulnerable members of the society every time it is in need of a ratings boost.

These are my kind of people.

It's a shame that the ever-pervasive cult of political correctness so poisons our society and prevents governments from dealing to their enemies more efficiently. That's why we must always be on the lookout for smart tactics that disarm our opponents. As the recent assaults on beneficiaries show, there is much profit in the diversionary attack.

Because I love these people so much, I want to help them. The last thing we need is for that do-gooder Shearer to get anywhere near the halls of power, so I've set out below a few diversionary tactics to take the minds of the public away from National's poor performance.

Witches

History shows us that nobody likes a witch.

But changing the law to allow the burning of witches would be complicated and would probably lead to international condemnation. Moreover, as appealing as the thought of all that sizzling flesh might be for most right-thinking people, the reality would probably cause shock and revulsion.

That's why National would never actually do it. My plan instead is that when the next crisis hits the government the Justice Minister will go on air and tell a radio talkshow host: "I'm not saying I'm personally in favour of burning witches, but it's one of many suggestions that have been raised, and we should at least have a debate about it."

Richie McCaw

The All Blacks captain is as beloved by all as he is down to earth. National must ruthlessly exploit this public adulation, but in a way that does not come across as cynical. The photo-ops will only get John Key so far, and we must also face the troubling prospect of Richie McCaw not wanting to be a puppet in some larger political game. We need to trade on McCaw's integrity, which will be difficult because McCaw has integrity.

The answer is to clone the rugby legend using the best plastic surgery money can buy. We'll find a nondescript rugby player who has roughly the same build as McCaw, who dreams of the big-time, and who needs the cash, and we'll mould him into our new McCaw superhero. The other McCaw, the real McCaw, will... how do I say it? I don't want to put in writing what we'll do for legal reasons in case our plan doesn't work out, but let's just assume he goes on a very very long holiday.

The new McCaw will play a few rubbish games of rugby before retiring with a knee injury (we'll have to make the injury look convincing, but I have an Irish friend who can help here), and all the while he will be praising the Key government and its sensible plans for the country. If he's not entirely stupid we might even make an MP of him.

Alien invasion

These squabbles over classroom sizes will seem petty once the public realise we're facing an imminent invasion from outer space. If we can make the public believe that pursuing policies that drive people away to Australia in their thousands is a good idea, then we can make them believe anything.

In the meantime, while we're building all the props we'll need for our show and recruiting all the particularly ugly actors we'll require to play the bad space guys, let's see John Key start to look more authoritative. A uniform perhaps? In times of crisis people yearn for strong government, so when they become convinced the Mars men are going to come for them they will turn to their strongman PM.

When the whole things is finally revealed as a hoax we'll make sure Labour take the blame. Four years after taking office National are still blaming Labour for everything that goes wrong, so the public shouldn't have any difficulty with this.

Dick Fritter's Salute to John Key

It was another masterful display in the House yesterday, as the Prime Minister ran rings around the Opposition yet again.

First up was a question about the handling of the economy. John Key batted the question away by describing the handling of his car. Key then walked over to Winston Peters, grabbed his cheeks and said to him “who’s a naughty boy then?”

As if this bravura display by a consummate professional at the top of his game wasn’t enough, Key then gave a devastating response when asked by Labour’s leader David Shearer if he had confidence in his ministers.

“Not only do I have complete confidence in my ministers, I am also confident in my ability to eat a pancake,” was Key’s brilliantly cutting reply.

As government members rolled about the floor laughing, Mr Key then stripped naked and performed an energetic dancing routine. Several of his ministers joined in, and they completed the performance with a series of backflips and twirls. The finish to the routine was marred slightly when Gerry Brownlee tripped and fell on Anne Tolley, leaving the Corrections Minister with multiple fractures and needing urgent surgery, but Labour and the Greens had no response to the brilliant performance.

The Opposition might have fared better had they taken up Trevor Mallard’s suggestion of responding with a haka.

Mr Key then took the microphone from the Speaker, Lockwood Smith, and boldly demanded that they all look at him and tell him what they see.

Key told his audience they had not seen the best of him yet. He promised that if they would give him time he would make them forget the rest.

Despite Opposition objections, the Speaker refused to intervene, leaving Key in complete control of the floor.

He used the opportunity given to him with devastating effect, telling the House that he had more in him, that they could set it free, and that he could catch the moon in his hands.

At the end of his speech Key looked directly towards David Shearer and asked “Don’t you know who I am?”

And so yet again Labour and the Greens have fallen into traps laid by the cunning PM. Their hapless efforts to make the PM answer simple questions and be accountable for the actions of his government are touchingly naive, when anyone who has followed politics as long as I have knows that accountability is much less important than putting on a good show.

That is why the decision to film the next series of New Zealand’s Got Talent in the House during parliamentary proceedings is a good one. The punters want to see their politicians singing and dancing, not giving boring speeches about transport and taxation. I’ve seen a preview of the first episode, and let me warn you now that Paula Bennett’s song paying tribute to Whitney Houston will leave you an emotional wreck.

Dick Fritter's Top 2011 Calls

Former political strategist and now full-time pundit Dick Fritter returns to this blog after a long break. A self-proclaimed politics tragic, he has worked with just about everyone, from Rob Muldoon to Osama bin Laden.

Fritter's biographer, Michael Bassett, has described the master strategist as a "hard drinking, hard living, hard loving man who can sniff out any scandal and manage any crisis."

Fritter will be best known to readers as the brains behind the controversial “Homo/Not Homo” billboards that worked so effectively for National in the 2008 election.

It's been a long few months, and I've been the star of just about every newspaper, talk radio channel and current affairs show.

The end of another political year is an ideal time to reflect on my achievements, before kicking back for the summer to chase some tail and sink some serious piss with my old mates Barry and Bill.

When it comes to politics I've seen it all. So there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that surprised me about November's election. I predicted National’s win and the good old-fashioned rogering that Labour got. I correctly picked that the Labour Party would end up with its trousers around its ankles, and that John Key would go hard all the way to the end of the campaign.

Allow me to remind you how good I really am. Let's go through some of my predictions.

ACT Party

Just after Don Brash took over the party I wrote on my Herald blog:

This is a stunning coup that will have the mainstream parties in a panic. ACT will be at over 10% in the party vote by the end of November. Lock it in!

Now some people have since criticised me for this prediction, pointing out that ACT was almost obliterated in the November election and barely managed 1%.

What a lot of pointless girlie nitpicking. Am I really to blame if a Herald sub-editor can't manage to put a decimal point in the right place? I meant 1.0%, not 10%! I've since asked the Herald to change the post to correct their egregious error.

And I was almost bang on with my prediction, wasn't I?

Winston Peters

I predicted Winston's return, even though nobody believed me at the time.

Someone mocked me the other day, claiming that on Newstalk ZB I told Larry Williams it would be a cold day in Hell before Winston Peters led his party back into Parliament.

Were their ears painted on?

What I actually said was that it would be a cool day in Wellington on the day Winston led his party back into Parliament. And I was right. On the day they all swore the oath it definitely got cooler as the evening drew nearer. It can get chilly in the capital of an evening.

You don't believe me? Well go and listen to the recording of my interview. What do you mean the file's not available? Well that's very convenient for you, isn't it?

Epsom

When it turned out that the sneaky bastards had taped Key and Banks having tea I wrote on my blog:

Two grown men having a ladies’ drink in a fancy cafe? Have they been completely emasculated by the Sisterhood? Has this pair lost their pair? Mark my words, this will turn out to be the most momentous day of the campaign. National can now kiss goodbye to any chance of winning on November 26.

I was obviously referring to the Epsom electoral candidate contest. And was I right or was I right? That Goldsmith girlie-man came second to my old mate Banksie.

From the comments left on my blogpost it looks as if some people think I was predicting National's defeat in the general election. The clowns!

Anyway, I went back to my blogpost and added "in Epsom" after "November 26", but only because I can't be arsed dealing with so many comments by the criminally uninformed and illiterate. The fools just don't understand how a statement can have several shades of meaning.

Labour leadership

Just after the three Labour leadership candidates were announced I wrote on my Stuff blog:

Here's my pick. Cunliffe first, Parker second, Shearer third. You can bank on that prediction. That’s a promise.

A couple of bloggers have been mocking me for making what they say is a spectacularly bad call. Wrong! I got it right, yet again. Cunliffe really was first.

Does not Cunliffe's surname go ahead of Parker's when ranked alphabetically? Does not Parker come second and Shearer third?

See what I mean? Right every time. Suck on that!

I also predicted David Shearer's victory. I wrote two weeks ago:

Electing David Shearer as leader would be the dumbest move in history. Even dumber than giving women the vote, taxing tobacco or banning slavery. No sane group of politicians would ever contemplate putting such a vomit-inducing do-gooder in charge of their party. Just like fairtrade coffee, Shearer is bound to leave a foul taste in the mouth of the public.

I have been saying for years that Labour caucus member are all as mad as badgers. So I was absolutely right--again!

You can always rely on Labour to do the wrong thing. What the party really needed was a leader with a bit of spunk, someone with balls, someone with a bit of lead in the pencil. One of them really just needed to pull his pants down, get in amongst it, go hard and show us his stuff. Instead they elected someone who wants to change the world and make it nice for others. Excuse me while I puke.

He won't get anywhere, because the party remains obsessed with identity politics. I don't make a big song and dance about my status as a privileged white male, so why do all those women, gays and minorities have to kick up such a fuss all of the time? And then there are all the unionists in the party running the place while moaning about low wages, God help us! They should just STFU and get on with cooking my burger.

Anyway, I'm sure you will now agree that all of the above prove that when it comes to political predictions I am Number One. When it comes to politics there’s not a thing I haven’t seen, done, written a book on, rooted, drank under the table, or sold to the gullible voters. Everyone else, like your Farrars and your Hootons, is a wannabe. To be a successful player you need big balls and a big gut.

But in spite of my record I get grief from others. The thing about all this punditry is that, even though I have a better record than anyone else on the circuit, people still think they have a right to have a go at me. It can be demoralising for some people in the game, but I have a thick skin and have learned not to take my detractors seriously.

Some of them are just plain crazy, like the woman who last week told me I was a fat sweaty misogynistic jerk. What a crazy thing to say! I love women, I really do, especially when I don’t have to pay for it. And if I’m such a woman-hater, how can I have been married four times? Go on, ask my ex-wives what I’m like. Actually, don’t talk to the first three, because they’re vicious lying bitches. And don’t bother talking to Tatiana, unless you speak Russian. The cow.

Dick Fritter: It's All In The Pastry

Political strategist Dick Fritter has seen it all. A self-proclaimed politics tragic, he has worked with just about everyone, from Rob Muldoon to Osama bin Laden.

Fritter's biographer, Michael Bassett, has described the master strategist as a "hard drinking, hard living, hard loving man who can sniff out any scandal and manage any crisis."

His most recent project was plotting the re-election of Kim Jong-Il as president of North Korea. In a breathtaking campaign Kim was re-elected in a landslide popular vote, thanks to Fritter's work, as well as a good deal of brutal violence.

But Fritter will be best known to readers as the brains behind the controversial “Homo/Not Homo” billboards that worked so effectively for National in the last election.

Fritter has kindly agreed to share his thoughts with readers in this election year on what the main political parties need to do to increase their share of the vote. His first column examines the Labour Party.

Winston Peters is a master of the dark arts. He’s at it again, blasting foreigners, especially Asians, and promising the elderly all sorts of goodies if they vote for him. It’s shortsighted, negative, economically foolish stuff, and I love it.

Contrast that with what those dour do-gooders in Labour are offering. It's no wonder the red team are struggling.

One of Labour’s biggest problem is that they’ve lost touch with the working man. Chris Trotter has described him as “Waitakere Man”. He drinks Lion Red or DB, likes to watch the motor sport and the Warriors, and just loves it when the ladies get their tits out for the lads.

It's no wonder, when you consider the fact that the modern Labour Party is run by a bunch of wowsers, pantywaists and liberal woofters. This is a big turnoff for those working class males who measure their IQs by the number of beers they can down before spewing on their mates, and whose version of identity politics is debating the merits of Ford v Holden.

Promoting diversity, tolerance and an end to sexist policies is a laudable aim, but failing to recognise the desire of Waitakere Man to root everything that has a pulse is a big political mistake.

This constituency has been lost to Labour, but it can be reclaimed with an appropriately focused campaign, and with minimal effort Labour could easily gain a few percentage points in the polls.

What’s needed is a naked bribe that will appeal to the working man, and will have him rushing to vote Labour at the next election.

My strategy is two-tiered.

Pies

I challenge you to find a genuine working man who doesn’t love a meat pie. So why don’t political parties put more effort into linking their brand with those tasty pastry meatsacks?

Waitakere Man doesn’t want your fancy gourmet foods, and his idea of a dream meal is an all-you-can-eat dinner at Valentines. When he dines there he can avoid the torture of engaging in conversation with the missus, because he’s too busy stuffing his face from start to finish.

But Valentines is not an everyday treat. For that Waitakere Man needs only to go to the local bakery or petrol station. There he will be able to acquire all that his heart desires: a serving of poor meat off-cuts and gravy, wrapped in pastry and left for too long in the pie-warmer.

The poorer the quality of the product, the more likely it is to appeal to Waitakere Man. Especially when the pub has closed and there's a long walk home. Recent economic data has confirmed that the main petrol chains are only retaining profitability as a result of the vast quantity of late night pies being purchased by booze-addled Waitakere Men. These cellophane-wrapped nasties may be three days old and limper than Hugh Hefner without his Viagra, but to a befuddled Waitakere Man every mouthful is ambrosia.

It is notoriously difficult to connect politically with Waitakere Man, because he has not the slightest interest in politics, other than to customarily remark to other Waitakere Men that he's fed up with "those whingeing Maoris". And yet the moment Waitakere Man opens his mouth to insert a pastry grenade he also opens his mind. It is a moment that should be seized. Here's how Labour can leave a lasting impression.

Labour needs to invest in a bold social programme called “A Pie Warmer In Every Home”. Imagine if Waitakere Man could come home from a night of drinking, vomiting and fighting and find a pie-warmer filled with succulent pastry treats? Imagine if that pie warmer was festooned with political party advertising. How could this gift to the people not cause a massive surge in goodwill from the aforesaid Waitakere Men?

National has promised a rollout of broadband to every home, but what use is broadband to Waitakere Man? He can't even read. It’s like the old saying goes: Give a man a pie and feed him for a day. Give a man a pie-warmer and he will give you his party vote. 

Man Points

This is an easy one, and the work's already been done by a major brewery.

Waitakere Man may be a feral creature more likely to fart in your face than discuss the sonnets of Shakespeare, but he's also highly insecure. Any suggestion that he may be exhibiting feminine traits, such as communicating in non-grunts, washing and watching Hugh Grant movies, will likely result in feelings of panic and helplessness.

Labour must ruthlessly exploit these fears by piggybacking off the good work done by Lion Breweries to make mankind a much stupider race. The branding used by Lion is even red! If that isn't a sign then Charlie Sheen isn't the world's greatest actor.

Here's how the ratings work:

• Forgetting your child's birthday and going to the pub instead: 500 man points.
• Making jokes about homosexuals because you're too scared to admit you have been fantasising about your best mate's arse for years:  600 man points
• Voting Labour: 10000 man points
• Voting National: It's no good, you're just a homo and everyone knows it.

That should do the trick for Labour.

Right, now, where did I leave that pack of cigarettes? I'm off to K Road for a clean and polish.