Postscript to Syria Revisited Postscript - with sober and saner reflection

Yet I'll readily admit that World War Three would be a pretty high price to pay even if one accepts that America is right, and that Assad was the one and only culprit.. and though it's no doubt been greeted with a fair bit of ridicule and scepticism, the suggestion of dropping gas masks from Syria's skies, while providing real assistance to innocent Syrians, would hardly lead to such a diabolical outcome, would it? Unfortunately, and perhaps cataclysmically for the region if not our world, lateral thinking has hardly ever been the strong point of the 'leaders' of our global community...and if it were, not only would such a plan have been actively and deadly seriously considered from the word go, but the brilliantly creative and out-of-left- field proposal by the internet campaign outfit Avaaz would have likewise received not only some press but moreover equally meaningful consideration. No, as I've ever said, dreams are ever free (or some would say a dime a dozen). P.S. For the Avaaz plan, yes, you guessed it, 'just Google' the same, and yes, you're right once more, it's both involved (though hardly really complicated), and again I've no time now to go through it, besides which I'm sure they explain themselves far better than I ever could...

Syria Revisited: Postscript

In view of all the commentary flying thick(ly) and furiously in light of the prospect of ever-imminent military action by the United States in response to the recent ghastly chemical onslaught upon Syrian innocents... All those now theorizing that Assad et al did not in fact do the dirty deed, in a letter-day reconstruction of Conspiracy School 101...do perhaps, admittedly, have half the story, so to speak - but only half - for indeed the truth is oftentimes a lot stranger than fiction. But methinks some are now becoming a little too big for their britches, yea, too wise by half (and all the rest). To wit: If no other single piece of evidence were needed/able to be cited, the simple yet all too telling and telltale and abject refusal of Syrian authorities to allow independent United Nations observers/inspectors in to ascertain/verify (or otherwise) the situation in the first instance - in the couple hours after the gruesome incident and dastardly deed - speaks volumes, surely belying all their self-righteous denials, protestations and refutations; to both the nth degree and well beyond. Yes, this surely proves their fingerprints were all over the nasty weapons involved...and yet I happen to believe a side-theory that's now been well-asserted - on both Leighton Smith's Newstalk ZB morning talkback show and BBC News to boot, thus combining conspiracy theorists anonymous and the liberal media establishment incorporated... Which is this: that Bashir's own kid brother, in order to pull one over his highly placed sibling, is indeed thus manoeuvering and manipulating events to gain an advantage, subtle, covert and underhand yet ever so effective, over him in the not-so-distant here-after.... As head of one of the major military subdivisions of Assad's army, he stands to gain from Bashir's being targeted and ultimately 'taken out' by whomever, whether foreign nations like the U.S., fellow Syrians or Al-Qaeda operatives within the land...it really matters not a lot. His desire thus to take over power from his brother can thus be effectively and ingeniously realized with no-one suspecting the real culprit in the chemical attack, and scapegoats (especially foreign and long-despised) be thus conveniently found to cop all the fallout and flak resulting from the horrific episode. Mission Accomplished - and no-one suspects a thing! (Or so he presumes.) Yes indeed, things are not always quite what they appear - though admittedly that remains just a theory, but a pretty good and convincing one in my book anyhow.

Syria Revisited

Yes, the U.N. is once more found conspicuously missing in action when and where it really matters..."So what else is new?" you ask. Which of course is why the good ole U S of A is once again expected to 'pick up the slack' and act as Global Cop/Enforcer (the World's Moral Policeman)...ever and mercilessly pilloried by all and sundry for just such interventionism... And so commendable if altogether predictable words today from United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon that the U.N. may well (and none too) soon have a 'moral obligation' to act...i.e. against the Syrian leader's chemical assault upon his own people - whatever such action may actually happen to entail/necessitate...(naturally another matter entirely, but good luck to that vain hope, as it'll not happen, quite obviously, except in a fool's paradise). Meanwhile American Secretary of State (and one-time Democratic Presidential Nominee John Kerry has indeed addressed, and well, the issue - ever simmering on the back-burner - of 'unintended consequences', (e.g. and most worrisomely, no doubt, a spillover into a regional 'all out', and, through targeting of Israel, potentially a far wider and world-engulfing conflagration). But, however sure he may (at least claim to) be, I fear and suspect that the world's other (alongside America) favourite whipping boy Israel will once more be used/employed as the region's, and world's, fall-guy by the likes of Assad et al. Welcome one and all to International RealPolitik 101 in the 21st Century!

The Sad Story of Syria: A Scary, Shameful and Sorry Episode in the Tome of Human History

At Last!!! I can compose something again. Hurrah! But now need some shuteye, Folks! Accepting (i.e. hoping you do/will) my utter lack of technical expertise re this blogsite, even now...though suspicions of viral attacks from cyberspace are more and more seeming the reason, though naturally enough I'm hardly vainglorious enough to suspect that Yours Truly himself is especially being targeted! The situation, it can scarcely help being admitted, is becoming increasingly complicated and multifaceted/dimensional by the day and hour...to the everlasting shame and embarrassment of a growing multitude of world leaders...but despite this, and the many and various diabolical consequences allegedly resulting from taking the most-cited action/s being bandied about...there are any number of issues I'd like to take with some of the more popular (especially New Zealand's own TV3 Three60) media coverage of the situation, especially in regards to British (and soon American) political decision-making upon the matter... Why not rather - as is equally reasonable, surely - see/cite/frame this (parliamentary/congressional assent-seeking exercise) as a great/signal victory for democracy - unlike Obama's own (hitherto) undemocratic approach...For, unlike Tony Blair, not only did the (i.e. Britain's) Parliament decide, and so it wasn't merely yet another 'done deal', done-and-dusted type of all too familiar scenario...yes, not only did said parliament decide, and against, striking Syria's chemical weapons silos/facilities, but their current Prime Minister, David Cameron, unlike said Labour predecessor, actually - lo and behold, will miracles never cease? - gave them a choice in the matter. Yes indeed, he put the question to his nation's own political representatives, and that before committing himself/his nation's 'troops'. As he has also done, incidentally, vis-a-vis the European Union, again so unlike his ever-so-controversial, yea never-so-contentious, penultimate predecessor. Yes, in contrast to Mike McRoberts' et al's framing of the matter as a (supposed, but indeed technically-speaking it most certainly was) victory for (the once Great) Britain's 'loyal' Opposition, and likewise a political defeat for David Cameron personally...surely eco-terrorism by a state is/goes WAY BEYOND mere party politics... It is in fact a power vested in him (DC) - the so-called 'royal prerogative' - to declare (unilateral, British) war (in this case on Syria; as Margaret Thatcher did upon Argentina in the long ago on behalf of the Malvinas, or rather Falkland Islands) or at least precision missile strikes on its chemical weapons facilities/silos. So at least he has some legitimate 'cred' to his democratic credentials, accepting/acknowledging as he soon thereafter did: "I respect the British public's view [thus expressed by their parliamentary representatives] to not [strike] Syria. I get that, and so we won't be going. So sure, said 'incident' may well be characterized as a signal defeat for the British P.M., but that's a little like ye old glass half full, or half empty scenario - it all depends upon one's attitude/perspective upon such matters, one's preconceptions and presuppositions so to speak... But where oh where are these selfsame voices when it somes to the all too deafening silence coming out of the two organizations whose involvement is not only altogether relevant to the situation but moreover has never been more needed, i.e. the Arab League and the United Nations. Yes, both, as ever, mouthing all the right and proper sentiments one would expect to be expressed in such circumstances, but, in the final analysis, doing diddly squat...and sadly, that will not help one solitary child or adult (male or female), in Syria today...and, as I say, in the final analysis, what else really matters? No, really? P.S. And please don't give me ye ole Rwanda situation...as the old saying goes, two wrongs have never made a single right...and no, we do indeed learn not a whit from history's lesson book, and so are doomed to endlessly repeat its mistakes, nay tragic 'missteps'...but come again now, folks, surely only a rather pathetic apologist for Germany's infamous Nazi Regime could possibly characterize such historical blindness as mere technical faux pas...there used to be such a thing as moral outrage and indignation, but sadly that now seems a rather lost cause P.P.S. And the good ole US of A, and moreover its present hapless Commander-In-Chief, on this matter anyhow, simply cannot win. Yes, whatever it does - or in this case (perhaps) doesn't do, it simply cannot win...either way...no, it's damned if it does indeed do something/anything, and it's damned if it doesn't. P.P>P>S> But if America ever does revert to ye old and much-maligned 'isolationist' stance in world affairs, please, oh please, oh mainstream media, don't give us the usual cant of America dare not do so...for if, for a change, you examine your own never-ending critique of the States - over decades past - whenever it does do so you damn it anyway...hey, but due (and way overdue) self-reflection and self-awareness was never ever one of said media's strong points, was it?Hey, but if you ever and only and always blame ye good ole US of A for each and every and any problem the world suffers, has suffered or ever might suffer, methinks you'll thus be able to hide from giving ye selves a pretty good look in the mirror...and perhaps, just for once, not really liking - very much - what you happen to see. But, hey, welcome to the real world! (To be perfectly kind about the matter... .)

Yes, I didn't like the last bunch (very much), but this lot I don't trust...AT ALL

And for that matter New Zealand's political leaders, as they come to decide upon sweeping new security surveillance powers, aka 'the GSCB': May they back away from this Orwellian 'vision' (i.e. nightmare), before it is 'forever' too late...

And (the residents of Sichuan Province,) China, for that matter...

Let's Keep the U S of A in our prayers at this time: she needs it more than ever...

If It Feels Good - Just Do It! (Now or Never!): the Dalai Lama #5

"For then they will turn their ears away from the truth and turn unto fables...gathering unto themselves teachers who will tell them what their itching ears want to hear."

Not my favourite journo at the best of times, nevertheless having given (thus far) the only telecast interview with 'His Holiness' the Dalai Lama, broadcaster Susan Wood's tete-a-tete a wee while ago bears scrutiny.

But perhaps first we oughta let Ms Wood's (evidently carefully-chosen) words speak for themselves. In a 'backgrounder' (piece) with NZ National Radio's Noelle McCarthy on Thursday afternoon the 20th of June, in which Ms McCarthy examined the Dalai Lama's recent revisit of God's Own, observing that "his effect on his (celebrity) interviewers has been [well] noted", Susan Wood referred back to that conversation she'd had, and made the following comments and observations.

The Dalai Lama "[brings/exudes] an enormous sense of soul and compassion...and a great [deal] of fun...[is] full of energy and life...he made me laugh...feel great actually." And in light of these momentous realizations and/or states of being thus elicited by "His Holiness", Ms Wood conculuded: "I asked him finally the only question that popped into my head: "Are you looking forward to your [soon coming] birthday?" To which 'His Holiness' amazingly(!)  responded: "It doesn't matter." Whoa! What a revelation from beyond! Of course it doesn't. But so what? An adolescent could 'discern' as much, once s/he has, through natural, inevitable life setbacks and disenchantments, started realizing a few home truths about life, the universe and everything else. Will such scintillating insights never cease? With journalists like Sue, who needs the media?

To sum up the quintessence of the Dalai Lama's impact upon chiefly his Western audiences, let's say this:
He's warm and cuddly, cute and charismatic - moreover in a gentle, unassuming kinda way (hey, like the new Pope!) As in: that's all that really matters to this supremely superficial 'now', image-fixated generation.
Warm cuddlies, someone who makes us (all) 'feel good' - no matter how undeserved or meaningless the description. I.e. the cult of self-esteem writ large, bold and bulging 'so no-one feels left out' or poorly.

Someone offering a 'feel good' religion of kisses and cuddles, of pats and strokes - the cult of pleasure, or more aptly hedonism - the 'if it feels good, let's pursue it, ipso pronto, hook, line and sinker - now or never; the sooner the better...and without a taint or tinge of 'psychotic', 'neurotic' guilt attached. So what's possibly stopping me? Go for it - just do it! It's all about me, myself and I, first, last and always...ever and ever, world without end. Amen. "He makes us feel alright", i.e. about ourselves, our sinful lives and selves. So no need to repent, to confess, to make it right between ourselves and our Maker. 'It's all right Jack - and Jill!"

No, what cannot be disputed is that the effect of The Dalai Lama upon many of his hearers was not altogether diferent from a brand new word I've stumbled across in the last few minutes. 'Kef', being derived
from the 'Ar[amaic?] 'kaif, [meaning] pleasure', is a noun denoting 'a state of dreamy repose: something, as Indian hemp, smoked to produce this'. And who would or could deny that New Zealand today literally basks in both this state of mind as well as such various narcotic substances well known to elicit it?!?!

The Dalai Lama #4: What they supposed I meant - What I actually did mean

The (actual) public scenario presented:
Poor, much-maligned, ostracized world traveller/proselytizer of a despised and oppressed religious minority is sidelined by local civic leaders - for purely sordid political/economic/trade reasons; to not offend our new-found Chinese market (or more correctly, its  political/bureaucratic superiors). Using obfuscation and flimsy excuses to pretend there were actually some genuine reasons such a meeting could not take place. But at least 'admitting' the DL only represented a small and insignificant collection of religious devotees anyhow.

My reaction/letter to the editor response:
Natural 'co-aggrievement' for a fellow-minority religious 'member', snubbed by political leadership - however relatively insignificant those selfsame leaders (and their fellow travellers) are in the overall scheme of things - purely to avoid ruffling the feathers of (perceived) economic/political interests and/or incurring (anticipated) economic pressure/ostracism if he had met up with them.

Unfortunately the impression given - from what the newspaper omitted - was that said Dalai Lama actually somehow deserved to be feted and dined by local officialdom as if such oughta be the fate of all such globe-trotting religious proselytizers simply by being the world-travelling standard-bearers for their particular brand of religious belief. Or even that calling such an esteemed individual as the Dalai Lama the leader of a  minority religion was a gratuitous insult and flew in the face of his actual world renown. Or that by dint of the DL's well-known sublimity of character and disposition he automatically deserved special treatment not befitting the rest of us lesser mortals, plebs and citizenry of Planet Earth. Not one of which was intended.

No, the only 'beef' if such it could be termed I had with Mayor Cull was his use of the Dalai Lama's minority religious status as a justification for publicly sidelining and snubbing him, and moreover, kowtowing to the Chinese authorities (in a general sense) out of fear (of potential trade repercussions) and (unwillingness to lose any hoped for) favour with the same if he'd acted otherwise. When Mayor Cull's fellow New Zealand and Dunedin forefathers were willing to die if need be rather than compromise their moral principles
- and least of all with a regime which not only doesn't respect such values upon their own soil, but indeed infracts them with utter impunity daily, hourly and moment by moment; and with no international sanction.

Not that I gave or would give the proverbial rat's razoo about members of minority 'religions' - my own or anybody's - being snubbed, denigrated, defamed or misrepresented by the mainstream media or political elites; why, it happens all the time. It's called life, reality, the world we live in. Correction: sure, it tends to annoy me, naturally more so when it's my own faith system being devalued, demeaned, and downtrodden
(by the powers that be). And yes, I do indeed 'care' about it, and deeply, just as John Hanlon does about
this world and its natural environs as so sublimely expressed in his classic hit 'I Care' of yesteryear. But let's just say one comes to expect as much, no less, in this day and age...and indeed when the treatment is otherwise one naturally has fairly legitimate grounds to suspect an ulterior motive or several. Because in such scenarios there often are indeed ulterior (if surreptitious) motives actuating the various players concerned.

In summary, insults for - primarily Christian - 'sects' are only to be expected, 'par for the course' these days. No-one, religious leader or otherwise, has any God-given right to expect special treatment such as civic wining and dining by local officialdom (in any context) - and indeed, the 'greater' the leader, the less he or she will take such to heart anyhow. And mistaking one's real status by treating an individual (of evident great note) as just another lowly pleb like the rest of us will not incite that individual, if they're indeed not merely religious but truly spiritual, to react or respond in any petty, self-serving, aggrieved manner.

Quite unlike the infamous Pope Gregory VII centuries ago when given the cold shoulder by then German Emperor Henry IV. Gregory's pride was so offended by his apparent disregard for his supposed superior earthly authority that he required Henry to literally 'bow and scrape, curtsey and kowtow' to him, doing utter abeisance to Gregory in the dead of winter by coming to the pope's alpine residence and awaiting his pleasure for 3 days and nights scantily clothed in pitiful, freezing conditions till Gregory deigned to allow him forgiveness for the egregious sin of offending his pride. A contrast (if indirectly related) exquisitely captured by a couple of artists in ancient Bohemia who depicted said cognitive dissonance between these self-appointed religionists and their 'Master' in a couple of  'pavement sermons' which drew crowds in Prague to note and judge for themselves the difference between these respective 'representatives' of their heavenly Father.  One already cited - in this instance decked up in full papal regalia upon one of his travelling forays into his realm - the other said pope's supposed Master and Lord  'who knew not where to lay his head', who lived and died an overlooked pauper and who breathed a prayer of forgiveness from His cruel cross for those who'd done the dastardly deed and/or urged the ungodly ordeal on. Who Himself entered Jerusalem as its Servant-King 'lowly, and seated on an ass, and even the coat of an ass'.

Belated #3 of dalai lama letter to the editor (as published by ODT)

I suppose one oughta be ever thankful to be printed by our esteemed daily here in the Scottish capital of the Southern Hemisphere, whether - as ever - (fairly) abridged or not...but anyhow, here's what was printed:

I wasn't always a big fan of former mayor Sukhi Turner, but have to say she was "on the money", I mean morally, when it came to meeting the Dalai Lama - unlike the current mayor. Sure, the Dalai Lama may well be "the representative of a minority religious 'faith' ", but as another ex-politician has put it well: "some things matter more than money" - like the reason we recently commemorated our "men in khaki" giving their lives sacrificially overseas, for 'freedom', religious liberty and all that sort of thing.

So why does what the ODT published irk, peeve, brass me off (not to put to fine a point on it)? Aside from my own self-disgust, quite apart from wholly missing my own self-appointed deadline to publish this 3rd blogpost upon said subject, but moreover of (seemingly semi-permanently) misplacing my original scribbled draft of this blogposting - so what I now write is not as I would have wished:

They essentially defanged it of all its oomph. Leaving aside the (more than) odd bit of tweeking here, there and everywhere, replacing nouns like 'morality' for adjectives such as 'morally', which admittedly offends pedants like me who no doubt inwardly pride ourselves upon proper English grammar and sense - and the frequent omission of various (even entire strings of sense-giving) words for space -  I'd have preferred they left in the initial punchy 'but at least she (i.e. Sukhi Turner) has balls, if you'll excuse my French', as it well conveys the strength of my sentiment. But even more meaningful, and well concluding the thrust of my piece, were the following words:

But returning to reality and the 'realpolitik' of today's 'leaders' in society, I suppose bowing and scraping and curtseying and kowtowing will be next on our 'progressive' Mayor's agenda?

But hey, the press (and their sub-editors) always know best and what's right in each and every - literary - situation, don't they? And seeing as my brother said my piece showed I was now 'one of the movers and shakers in Dunedin' in that my letter was published alongside a couple of others contemporaneous with a public and civic leader response to Dunedin Mayor Dave Cull's much-criticized approach to the Dalai lama that led to the mayor's hasty backtracking and apologizing, I probably have reason to be thankful. But don't feel so, principally as the essence of what I felt I meant to say was thus distorted and rearranged to suit the paper's preferences. So tomorrow - I promise - I'll print the essence of what I was wanting to convey, and show how that essentially differs, and substantially, from what other mayoral critics evidently took out of the situation and Mayor Cull's aboutface upon the whole scenario.

Clear as the proverbial mud and grime? Now even I'm confused! But hopefully tomorrow all will be duly cleared up and clarified, made plain and pertinent - and moreover, to the point. Enough - for now.

The Dalai Lama #2: PLEASE don't bother printing my letters to the editor if you're gonna abridge, distort 'em...Understood?

So as to put what I said in context, 'out there' again, so to speak, this is what I said - the unedited version:

Wasn't always a big fan of (former [Dunedin, Aotearoa-New Zealand] mayor) Sukhi Turner...
but at least she has 'balls', if you'll excuse my French. Yes, have to say she's 'on the money',
I mean morality, when it comes to meeting the Dalai Lama - unlike the current mayoral occupant.

Sure, he may well be "the representative of a minority religious 'faith' ", but as another ex-politician
(I was also not altogether keen on) has put it well: "Some things matter more than money."
No, really - like the reason we recently commemorated our 'men in khaki' giving their lives
sacrificially overseas, i.e. for 'freedom'/religious liberty and all that sort of thing.

But returning to reality and the 'realpolitik' of today's 'leaders' in society, I suppose
bowing and scraping and curtseying and kowtowing will be next on our 'progressive' Mayor's agenda?

But what our esteemed daily rag, often dubbed 'The Odious Daily Slime' by its congregation of admirers, printed was as follows...(to be recontinued tomorrow; my beauty sleep is fast being hijacked)

Call no (mere mortal) 'man' 'father', 'teacher', 'rabbi', 'master'

So 'His Holiness', the Dalai Lama, set foot again, at last, upon Dunedin soil. Well good on 'im, I wish him well. From all account's the dude's a real cool sort of a fella, one of a kind in fact. One out of the bag, as they say. I've no doubts about the reality of that - at all. Just, pretty please, don't call him such a pretentious and untrue thing. Coz he, simply, ain't. Not now, not ever - at least upon this celestial orb. One day p'rhaps.

One only fulfilled that description. they held Him up to ridicule, they spat in His face, they scourged, and ultimately crucified Him - on an old rugged cross. Held up to public shame and abuse. Yeah, That One you can call holy. Coz He was; absolutely; in every way. It oozed from His every pore, especially as He squirmed and agonized, despaired and cried out in lonely abandon. But don't pretend that's all a fiction.

Coz it weren't, it ain't. Not now - not ever. Sorry, you miss that, and ya've missed all that really matters.

An Honourable Acquittal, After All - is said and done

Having, at last - long after all the smoke and fury has blown over and away and in every direction - gotten around to getting ahold of, viewing, sizing up and digesting Sir Peter Jackson's and Fran Walsh's public statement, post-release of the much-disputed The Hobbit film papers and official documents - or rather, those subject to release - the truth in the tale is not so very conspiratorial after all; or, let's say, such that Sir Peter et al are themselves dishonourably implicated in the fallout, which in my view they are patently not. But then, you say, he would make it seem like that, wouldn't he... . 

Yes, there does indeed come a point where one must choose who to believe, who makes the more, the most credible-seeming/sounding argument, and though I respect Phil Darkins' perspective - unlike the much more toxic one so often propounded by Helen Kelly - for my (inconsiderable, it must be admitted at the outset, and decidedly limited, nay rather impoverished store of) money it's Jackson and co all the way, and back again... . Yes, I have to admit, indeed I have no qualms in affirming that he/they acquit/s him/them- selves very well, creditably and moreover eminently credibly on the whole sorry saga. Sure, humanly to the nth degree and beyond, but doesn't that bear so much more true to real life than the cardboard cut-out caricaturing and ideological, politically partisan approach of some others, in particular both the Labour Party and Green Party spokespeople in this matter. Whereas I personally have absolutely no problem with the likes of 'the Right Honourable' Winston Peters, while readily acknowledging the genius, or rather genii of not only Sir Peter but all the others intimately involved in the making of the films, nevertheless making the case, and rather convincingly in my view, that it would nonetheless be 'the honourable thing' for Wingnut, Weta, Warner et al to repay the generous ($67 million) subsidy given the filmmakers by the New Zealand Government on behalf of the NZ populace. Seeing as the first film's profits (alone) have now skyrocketed beyond $1.2 billion.

But despite that fair enough concern/desire as expressed by Peters, I would still say, after all the smoke has settled down upon this rather sorry saga in New Zealand history: Sir Peter - Fran - Phillippa - Sir Richard (Tayler) et al - you have really shown your quality, make that 'qualities', sirs - and madams; as Samwise Gamgee or Faramir might have themselves put matters. Yes, by exerting and bending every effort within your power to keep the making of The Hobbit films here in God's Own, you have truly shown your calibre; of the highest sort. For whether their actual filming here was really threatened or not, I have no doubt that Sir Peter et al perceived that to be the case, and that if that had indeed transpired, New Zealand's ever-burgeoning film industry would have been given a rather big body blow, from which it might well have taken a considerable number of years, perhaps even decades to recover. And as a sometime, if highly 'minimal', worker in the industry, let me only say that I've learnt the hard way in life that it really doesn't pay to cut off one's nose to spite one's face; however many plaudits the ideological purists and their fellow-travellers might readily dispense in your direction for so doing. Sadly 'the real world' simply doesn't work that way, and never has. No, not even in the likes of Middle Earth - though perhaps, I'll concede, in cloud cuckoo land. Yet even there, so I understand, the various avian species still have to fight for their food and livelihood.

Oh What A Tangled Web Do We Humans, I mean Hobbits (and Dwarfs) Weave

Though steadfastly loyal to Sir Peter Jackson (in particular) 'and co' over the whole Hobbit film saga - over preceding days, weeks, months and even - now - (two) years - what a pity he and fellow film collaborators -  I don't mean conspirators! - didn't simply bypass the media, refusing to speak 'on the record' with one and all, and privately, confidentially, expeditiously liaise, negotiate, conclude discussions with the likes of Jennifer Ward-Lealand, Robyn Malcolm et al - completely out of the public glare - and thus sort to the Hobbit film dispute before it almost rather inevitably escalated into the squalid mess and public spat and namecalling and petty partisanship and political conundrum it eventually did. If only Sir Peter had himself taken the moral high road and eschewed all public bickering and contention, then the whole drama might have been settled in no time flat. But it was not to be, the film and all associated with it once again succumbing to the curse that has seemed to afflict the making of the films from word go, even as far back as the mid-to-late-nineties when Jackson and wife Fran Walsh first contemplated adapting J R R Tolkien's kids fantasy masterpiece.

But unlike ye average conspiracy theorist, Yours Truly has ever maintained that Peter has been unfairly vilified over the whole affair, and when more revelations vis-a-vis the unreleased materials surrounding the emails between Jackson and Warner Studios leaked out later last year I came to the conclusion that there was no conspiracy as such, but rather that Sir Peter simply decided to 'spit the dummy', and essentially say "Blow You" to those he perceived as his antagonists in the saga, and decide, 'no, you (lot) simply can't be trusted, in good faith, to keep your side, your end of the bargain, following the negotiation and securing of an agreement for the boycotters to lift their boycott of the film in NZ. Though I also always felt that NZ's Government then attempted to milk the dispute to its maximum political advantage, changing employment laws as they indeed did, and under parliamentary urgency, to gain public support for their seeming saviour role in securing the films to New Zealand, rather than seeing them go offshore. I have little doubt that Peter Jackson himself felt that was a serious possibility, as he had been told from various sources, and that he at least was not engaging in mere bluster and furtively and stealthily playing for time with a secret agenda to simply secure more governmental funding of the project itself.

But ultimately one's conclusions on the matter may be tainted by a number of factors, including one's partiality to conspiracy theories, one's dislike of multi-millionaires and big business generally, one's tendency to automatically side with trade unions and unionists, one's - perhaps well-founded - suspicions towards a pro-business political party, and its ex-merchant banker leader in particular who has 'shown his quality' (if such it can be termed) in adroitly pulling off deals of all sorts in the political realm even when those deals - however welcome their 'hands-on' approach at times - show a certain degree of inconsistency when laid alongside said leader's and Government's selfsame neglect, nay utterly hands-off attitude vis-a-vis many other important, longstanding 'specmens' of this country's once thriving, burgeoning and successful manufacturing base. Outfits such as Dunedin's Hillside Workshops and Oamaru's woollen mills spring readily to mind, Allan Hubbard's South Canterbury Finance etcetera etcetera etcetera, but I do go one, don't I... 

Hobbiting Afterthoughts: A Wise Simon Morrisism: Yes, Good, Well-developed and Enacted Characterization Is What Really Matters, or: It's (the) Character, Stupid! (As one ex-U.S. President Might Have Put It)

"Character's more important than plot...[in Linda Bower's Rubber-Neckers] they make character so interesting, that you go on the journey with them...[as I said before], it's the characters that really hold you."

In a sense technical awards like the one - undoubtedly for special CGI effects et al - the Hobbit secured at the tail-end of last week's Baftas, alongside the three, similarly technical, others for which it had been nominated - these latter three, still unconfirmed, interestingly enough being very similar to the three for which the first instalment in Andrew Adamson's Narnia series, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - in which Yours Truly starred as a(n obscure, unacknowledged, uncredited - and possibly, ultimately, even unscreened!) faun, won Academy Awards in, I believe, the year following, are, in my view - though clearly and understandably not in the estimate of those intimately involved in the securing of those prestigious enough, and certainly not to be snuffed at awards - almost damning with faint praise the best characteristics of such films which seemingly should be being rewarded; though clearly that is hardly the intention of awarders.

Perhaps a noted film reviewer, as he said the other day, is indeed correct in emphasizing that such awards are way overrated, and, as I would put it, the very best films need no such glitz and glamour to sustain them much less rivet a memorable place in the minds and hearts of their devotees. Much as I somehow doubt that my own favourite film of all time - I think, though such 'scorecard' designations, as with those for one's fave songs, ever can be personally problematic if like me one happens to have a lot of really beloved movies - *David Wolper's Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory - the one starring Gene Wilder, Jack Albertson and Peter Ostrum, Roy Kinnear et al, not Johnny Depp's much overrated debut, foray into a similar realm - won any such awards - at all - in its own day. Certainly in our own politically correct to a fault day and age it simply wouldn't stand a chance, 'a hope in hell'.

(*Interestingly enough I now see, apparently produced by good 'ole Warner Brothers, the film company financing the Hobbit films.)

This time I'll let the above alluded to film critic, New Zealand's National Radio's Simon Morris, have the last word. As he put it so succinctly and well as he signed off on his latest week's film review, with a bit of ad libbing on my part - keeping completely with the sense and meaning of his own words: "[Really good] movies don't last because they [simply] win awards, but because they win a place in peoples' hearts...and on that note [we'd all, and especially filmmakers and crew, be advised] not to take awards too seriously."

But Having Said That - i.e. all the foregoing - it's a !!! good film, in almost every which way, if you'll mind my Elvish

So why do I make such near-uncategorical claims as to the quality of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey? That is, in light of the swarm of seemingly innumerable critics emerging from right, left and centre, out of the metaphorical floorboards as well as from every apparent crack and fissure and orifice of the supposedly reputable arts establishment, openly displaying their disdain, even to the extent of now issuing their thinly-veiled sarcasm and ridicule under the auspices of film academy favour into the very precincts of the Baftas?

Well, there are many, individual, reasons, on top of all those given in my three most recent postings on the topic. As a collection, let's simply call them, to employ my own take upon the cutesy-pie manner of so many in this 'trendy' day and age: my habitual, hebdomadal, non-hibernatory, hybrid of hobbit hubbub - thus effectively utilizing each and every h-b-vowel combo in the English lexicon. Out of which, to borrow another's wonderful blogsite title, one can, I suggest, distil 'the irrefutable truth about hobbits', including here, that of the first instalment in the film trilogy adaptation of The Hobbit. In fact, one of these I believe warrants mention in its own right, the first scene in the movie, or rather the conglomeration of related introductory pieces centering upon Hobbiton and the Shire, the Baggins household and Bilbo's meeting with the dwarf team at Gandalf's especial but unwelcome invite. In fact, time being, as ever, strictly 'of the essence', i.e. unavailable to cover all the other reasons the first of the Hobbit trilogy deserves special commendation, I've selected this 'one' for both its individual significance and for being to a certain extent representative and characteristic of An Unexpected Journey as a whole.

Thus far either completely overlooked by most critical naysayers, or, if mentioned, done so with an air of positive derision or simply damned with faint praise. Oddly, and yet typically enough I suppose, the selfsame critics who are at one moment so scathing of Peter Jackson's widely acknowledged and indisputable penchant, *nay passion, for blood and gore, in the very next breath dismiss outright this - in my view wholly appropriate - unedited homely scene so wonderfully reminiscent of The Fellowship of the Ring movie's own, previously inimitable, prologue. Evidently seeing it as tedious time-filling padding distracting from the film's major focus and adventure, directly contradicting those very same critics' own, it would appear, almost inordinate lauding of the same in Fellowship. And yet I for one would argue that this very scene, above all others in film #1, including that of the finding of the ring itself, sums up, yea constitutes the very essence of Tolkien's Middle Earth characterization and depiction, and indeed therefore is a glowing tribute, a back-handed compliment as it were to Sir Peter and crew's steadfast adherence to the actual spirit of Tolkien, in this new film as in the first of the Rings' trilogy. Without detracting from the far more familiar or at least **celebrated scene with Smeagol-Gollum, Bilbo Baggins and the fateful one ring of power in the heart of the Misty Mountains.

Yes, what some have - to my mind, incredibly - viewed as a long-drawn-out piece of superfluity, a Jacksonesque bit of cinematic candy-floss, the film's unabbreviated and intimate introductory episode, is not only absolutely essential for establishing character and setting and relationships within the emerging 'fellowship', it is critical in setting the tone for both this and the subsequent films, i.e. a highly involved and complex interplay of comic and serious elements well befitting the tone of Tolkien's own kids' fantasy mini-epic, or at least the initiating thereof. Yes, allegations, nay accusations that this section is tedious, allegedly even stretching to the good part of the film's first hour, contains a grain or two of truth only in that latter description, technically correct as to the percentage or proportion of film #1 taken up with this character establishment. But beyond that it is truth mingled with a fair dollop of error, or to be charitable an honest misconception. For not only is this prologue useful in memorably setting the scene for all that is to come, and especially the complex relationships sustained between Bilbo and the dwarfs, it is so very true to the fantasy tale itself, in fact serving as a beautifully-crafted initiation into hobbit-, dwarf- and wizard-lore; in a perfectly appropriate milieu, bedecked with hobbit- and dwarf-endearing mannerisms, mischief, moodi-ness and merry mirth, arguably equal in impact to and even surpassing in joie de vivre, 'magic' and sheer graceful wonderment, the equivalent introductory scene set in Hobbiton in The Fellowship.

What can one say, how does one adequately describe, do remote justice to this 'setting scene'? The dwarf-atop-dwarf-upon-dwarf-atop-dwarf gate-crashing Bilbo's cherished quietude in his secluded abode - no doubt to be paralleled, even excelled in film #2 as the adventurers arrive at the home of Beorn - is only matched, nay majorly exceeded, by Bilbo Baggins' own brilliantly understated, self-deprecating doubts and fears coalescing into a seething cauldron of inner perplexities and outward questionings as he proceeds to scrutinize the fine print in the carefully-wrought contract brought to him by the dwarf company, finally breathing an audible sigh of relief as the dwarfish blizzard of bamboozling blunderbussing bluster vacates his premises leaving it in an equally centre-of-the-hurricane stillness and tranquility. The dwarfish troop's patent lack of self-awareness, or rather their utter indifference therefor, is again perfectly juxtaposed opposite Bilbo's own dutifully, stubbornly self-obsessed and studiously-honed self-image, worthy of an Oscar in and of itself, even were he unaccountably to suddenly and inexplicably vanish from the face of this film or its two sequels. Yes indeed, it is that good, a wonderful exposition of both the hobbit and dwarfish natures and temperaments, enacted in superlative form and with characteristic power and pathos, giving, in exquisite, finely-toned detail, all the idiosyncrasies so noted and beloved in Tolkien's own carefully-wrought delineation of his assortment of Middle Earthian beings and beasties. Not to mention -whoops, I s'pose I just might - his decades-ahead-of-his-time psychological insights into and perceptions of neighbourly relations and boundaries - both physical and metaphorical - worthy of an entry, however belated, into the encyclopedia of fantasy psychoanalysis.
  
*A good example of this was a film guy's response to a statement/query from Yours Truly a good eight-some years ago now while undertaking University of Otago Emeritus English Professor Colin Gibson's Fantasy Literature: Word and Image: The Lord of the Rings summer school paper in Dunedin, New Zealand. This spokesperson for Wingnut Studios, Weta Workshop or associated film agencies involved in the making of the movie trilogy, said, in response to my assertion that Tolkien's own writing greatly lessened the films' comparative heightening of both the tension and moreover the degree of violence between, for example, Gollum and Frodo and Sam, that indeed he'd personally observed Jackson urging on the level of violence displayed between these respective characters. It is especially seen, in my opinion, in the similar physical antagonism expressed between Faramir and his men with Gollum in their cave from LOTR film #2, I believe, again wholly disconsonant with Tolkien's own treatment of said interpersonal relations.

**This evening (NZtime) the complex computergraphics involved in the reprised Andy Serkis Smeagol-Gollum of An Unexpected Journey, recently cited in Time Magazine for its cutting edge quality, even won the production its very first Oscar, though it had increasingly appeared it had absolutely no chance, or at best a very slim one, of scoring any rungs upon the Oscar ladder, especially with the unprecedented degree of hobbit-bashing and denigration going on at the ceremony itself just days earlier. And evidently this wasn't even for one of the three special-effects awards for which the movie had actually been nominated. And curiously a triumph - against all the odds at this stage, and certainly against the combined opposition, it would appear, of the majority of the film establishment elite - completely and inexplicably overlooked the following day by the two main standard-bearers - both state-run and private - of New Zealand's broadcasting media.

P.S. To the undying gratitude of my blogreadership, this will pretty likely - but I'm making no hard and fast promises, you hear - be the 'lucky last' in my now five-part series on The Hobbit film, just as it winds up its equivalent two-month-long stint at Aotearoa's big city movie theatres, at least here in Dunedin.

Now Don't Be So Hasty (Part 2): Yes, the Hobbit film is not all milk and honey

Despite *Jackson et al's once again coming up with the goods and delivering upon their usual promise of **unequivocal genius, it would be quite remiss to give the film a clean slate, a no-holds-barred endorsement. The creators of The Hobbit movie #1 are, after all is said and done, mere mortals as the rest of us, so let's not ever seek to pretend otherwise. My main gripes, grizzles and grumbles? Many and varied, naturally enough, but principally the adaptation's inauthenticity in realistically portraying, and thus convincingly depicting, the ***relative battle-hardiness of The Hobbit's respective good guys and villains. In this regard I'll cite some of the most glaring and grating and at times jarring inconsistencies and incongruities observed, if only in the interests of that all too underrated and lowly esteemed, seemingly quaint and apparently antiquated notion of fair play and balance. So as not to give even a skerrick of the impression of having viewed the movie with a pair of - one of my now two sets of - rose-tinted 3D glasses, seeing it as an unmitigated world of wonders. (*Let's not, as so many do, almost invariably overlook the other genii intimately involved in the making of these Tolkien film adaptations, especially the likes of Philippa Boyens, Fran Walsh, and Richard Taylor and his Weta Workshop team. **As my (1988) Chambers Concise Dictionary has it, meaning: 'unambiguous; explicit; clear and emphatic.' ***A commonly enough undertaken device of cinematic reinvention, admittedly, in order to maintain the popularly-accepted and welcome notion of the forces of good ever, or at least ultimately, triumphing over the forces of evil. Nonetheless a device by its very nature complicit in duplicity, in upholding fictions we wish to believe in rather than the realities better describing things as we actually tend to experience them - not to be too cynical.about matters. Though personally I actually subscribe to such a notion - of good ultimately, cosmically, 'winning out' over evil - I'm simply pointing out that upon this earthly plane things don't always seem that way, much less tend to play to that sort of script.)

So let's begin with the main character, Bilbo Baggins, brilliantly and determinedly, despite innumerable obstacles, cast by Sir Peter himself, and consummately executed by Martin Freeman. An eminently successful characterization, even unexpectedly acknowledged as such  - if ever so sparingly, seeking to damn with faint praise - by one of the film's most trenchant New Zealand critics, he of National Radio's Matinee Idol infamy, nay notoriety, Simon Morris. Notwithstanding this sterling, well-nigh impeccable performance by Freeman, the filmmakers - in order presumably to tie together one very important ****'loose end', i.e. Thorin's deeply suspicious attitude towards and distrust of Bilbo, with their necessary, and literary-accurate, eventual reconciliation - take extreme licence to bend the parameters of credulity both to and well beyond the bounds of credibility in one major instance. This is the depiction in the film's final battle scene, and indeed penultimate scene overall, of the hobbit bravely sallying forth at the very last moment to rescue Thorin, when Azog the Goblin Chieftain and his gang of wolves drive the dwarf crew literally to the edge of a precipice. Not only is such bravery, however noble and well-intentioned, foolhardy in the extreme, the outcome of such - instant death and destruction by Azog & co - is so self-evident that Tolkien doubtless never even envisaged such a prospect much less included it in his story. Perhaps J R R knew something?(****Though actually in the book this relationship is fraught, deteriorating - in the extreme - once again, much later on in the story, and their 'friendship' can only be described as an on-again, off-again affair, a professional collegiality and camaraderie rather than one based upon any sense of 'fair dinkum' mateship.)

Alongside this portrayal, in the selfsame scene - a scene taking believability to new levels - we witness trees, flimsy enough in and of themselves, and scarcely sturdy enough to hold such heavy-set *****dwarfs much less a bunch of 'em in each tree, bending well beyond breaking point, to the nth degree and all the rest. And yet these admirable specimens of flora manage to somehow maintain their weighty and unwieldy cargo of passengers - otherwise long-since jettisoned 'over the edge' and into a literal abyss of despair, death and destruction - even when they are mercilessly assailed in no uncertain fashion, time and time again, by a veritable juggernaut of large, powerful and skilful beasts of malevolence on a mission of annihilation at any cost. Now really folks. Otherwise, as I said, an excellent, essentially flawless, even unsurpassable Hobbit-depiction by Freeman, capturing the nuances of Bilbo's character and moreover his extremely complex relationships with his fellow adventurers. Yes, he's definitely the star of this new show, no question about it. (*****Ever Tolkien's preferred spelling for our (English) 'dwarves', though sometimes also 'dwarfs'.)

Which isn't to suggest the performances by others such as Thorin aren't masterful also, but it's all a matter of degree. Although I would also contend, once again, that the rendering of the film's chief villains, be they Azog, the Goblin-King under the Mountain, or the three trolls - Bert, William and Tom - are equally unsurpassed. However the story's Arch-Enemy, Smaug the Dragon himself, makes his (highly premature but understandable) entrance into the film in such a way as to seriously strain credibility; though I would likewise argue - solely with the benefit, however, of a second and third viewing - that this is ultimately so well-executed, seen in the odd tidbits and snippets of Smaug and his various body parts, especially in the film's closing moments, that this concern is considerably allayed. Such a situation undoubtedly oftentimes comes about, I readily accept, with such fast, action-paced thrillers, and so perhaps cannot be helped. Yet 'seeing is believing', as they say, and for those without the time and cash to see the film again, let alone thrice, such initial, even if frequently inaccurate impressions truly do 'die hard'.

For this very reason - despite my later relief - my issue with his portrayal still bears mention. It is this: Smaug's eye-catching unveiling amidst the seemingly limitless horde of jewels at the film's end, and the immense fire-breathed energy and unrivalled presence of his power-packed physique at its start, were almost undone and belied, I would contend, by the 'precursor' bunch of silly-looking dragon streamers at the outset of his age-old assault upon the dwarf kingdom of Erebor. I appreciate these do have their modern-day resonances in especially Chinese and Japanese dragon festivals and the like, but frankly fellas, they just seemed a little amateurish. Essentially representing El Nasty as a bit of a lightweight, feather-duster equivalent 'bad guy'. Not such a good much less apt look for 'Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities'. No, One to be lampooned only at one's peril.

A central and equally contentious element of, if not Tolkien's fantasy literature itself, then certainly its Peter Jacksonesque interpretation, the battle scenes were otherwise both too many and too long and Lord of the Rings film trilogy blood 'n guts and gore extremish, though ably effected and varying enough from one to the next for all that. And so - try as I may, and I certainly have - it is hard to fault film reviewer Morris' contention that Bilbo's (captivating and well-depicted) character definitely lended itself to much more filling out, which additional characterization was precluded simply due to the exorbitant proportion of the film devoted exclusively to battle scenes. (Which was also of course a commonplace criticism of the Rings' films.) And so something had to give, and unfortunately, what 'gave' here was more of Bilbo, the main character who clearly deserved even much more of the attention he did get. Though it could equally be argued that we were given such a superb sampling of his sublime and ever-so-subtle character to be held spellbound, however short and seemingly stinted that cinematic synopsis may well have been.Thus whetting our appetites for what's yet to come.

Nevertheless, for devoted fans like myself, I suspect we'd have remained engrossed if the film had gone on for some while longer, as despite all the fighting, the film maintained a good, steady pace and captivating, suspenseful tension throughout. As for Morris et al's criticism that in (apparently) prolonging the film beyond its reasonable limit Jackson and crew essentially threw into the film each and every nook and cranny of the book, this actually shows a rather superficial understanding of Tolkien's classic, as Jackson and co arguably failed to do just that very thing. Sure, the film might well have highlighted the book's many much less protracted battles, but it meanwhile signally failed to focus sufficiently upon the oodles of space the book gives to the elaboration of Bilbo and company's characters. So those making such criticisms essentially contradict themselves, decrying the film's length (allegedly due to needless padding out with rampant fighting) while pleading for more character development notwithstanding. So maybe it's not the film's alleged lengthiness, only their tedium with its subject-matter they in fact find so objectionable. Methinks what such really want is both a cake and the eating thereof. And as I've ever found, that's somewhat tricky.

And so while I completely concur with Morris' contention that additional, useful, character-developing  footage of Bilbo's character wouldn't have gone amiss, that's only because that was an important part of the relevant portion of the book which the filmmakers seemed to skimp upon. And as we all know, scrimping and saving is best left to the financiers and monetarists: not. But certainly not to those wishing to faithfully reproduce the classic literary works of such an idiosyncratic genius as Tolkien.

Now Don't Be So Hasty: 3rd Time Still 'Lucky': Premature Reports of The Hobbit film's demise are just that - premature (and grossly exaggerated)

So what keeps drawing me - back and back, and back - ever 'there and back again', to quote J R R Tolkien's well-known phrase, fully utilized by his film adaptors, for Bilbo's adventure to the Lonely Mountain? Some throwback to childish phantasmagoria? An - as yet undiagnosed - case of "OCD", obsessive compulsive disorder, admittedly (if rather subjectively) so attested by a loving sister herself apparently afflicted with selfsame clinically-diagnosed condition? A 'pure and simple' liking, yea love for the (first instalment of the) film adaptation and its medley, its motley array of arguably brilliantly-characterized cast? Plenty of 'time on my hands' and a rather laissez-faire (by which folk tend to mean, laissez-aller) attitude to life, as some other siblings and another close 'relative' would no doubt attest, one calling me once 'a man of leisure'? Some misguided, and doubtless inordinate, desire or determination to defend Sir Peter Jackson & co, and to vindicate their reputations and efforts in their latest masterwork from the usual and all-too-typical jump-upon-the-bandwagon critics and detractors and innumerable other 'antis' presently relishing, and revelling in (and none too unsmugly at that) The Hobbit's failure to confirm even its seemingly meagre nominated share of three 'minor' awards at the recent Oscar's?

Perhaps all of the above - 'with knobs on', as some wags would surely add, 'along with all the rest', as others might say, inferring any number and combination of especially subconscious, subterranean impulses and motivations which invariably goad or prod one in a simultaneous multitude of often mutually-conflicting directions. But, damn it, I can't help myself: it's a damn good film, and even exquisite capturing/ rendering/re-enactment of the essential spirit of Tolkien's now 75-year-old kid's fantasy extraordinaire. Irrespective of the few, and I'll readily concede conspicuous, flaws that a keen reader and devoted admirer of The Hobbit cannot help but see, especially, or so I've found, with each and every subsequent viewing of its cinematic counterpart. Yep, The Hobbit departs, and at times majorly, from the substantial content, 'the guts' of J R R's literary work. But to the gratitude of all those diehard Tolkien fans who likewise relish and appreciate his works' Jacksonesque interpretation, the first film at least manages to adopt, to convey, to encapsulate the very mode, the manner, the style of that selfsame literary gem. And that's all that ultimately really matters. Or as the rotund woman is known to have remarked: "That's all she wrote."

Nevertheless for the sake of that ever-elusive quality of balance and fair play which the modern media pays much lip-service to yet really cares stuff all about, it would be a little remiss to overlook let alone leave unmentioned what strike me as the film's most glaring omissions, incongruities and inconsistencies, and so these will be cited and expounded in my final instalment. My essential premise, my justification for so doing being my admission as follows: yes, in many parts, respects and ways, as is somewhat inevitable with any film adaptation of especially a renowned and much loved literary work, The Hobbit diverges, and then some, from Tolkien's book. And of course this is patently self-evident, the two genres essentially differing so markedly from one another, not least in the ways that time is perceived and experienced, as well as the ways in which a narrator's or (especially) central character's unspoken commentary are re-presented visually. And, again quite understandably, I concede, with *each subsequent viewing, increasingly obscuring one's progressively fainter recall of one's own imaginative 'mock-up' of the original text, a tendency remarked upon at a recent public forum coinciding with the Dunedin, New Zealand premiering of The Hobbit by noted C S Lewis scholar, and founding Tolkien Club member (of one of its Australian chapters) Professor Paul Tankard of the University of Otago in Dunedin. Resulting in the molding, merging and morphing of one's original imaginative understanding into an increasingly 'definitive' idea one assimilates and imbibes and appropriates from the visual film material. To the obvious detriment of that initial, if necessarily inchoate, personal perception one forms and develops further with every new reading.

*Having already seen the film three times, at its Dunedin premiere on the 12th of December in its much-touted High Frame Rate 3D version, a week later as a personal birthday treat in simple 'ole 2D - yet, if anything, enjoyed even more, and lastly in mid-January in 'plain' 3D at the time a whole lot of criticism was being directed anew at the Government's costly financing of the venture. Incidentally the day I (initially) made this new posting coincided with a would-be 4th viewing, again in 2D, if I'd managed to get my act together sufficiently to 'cheer it' off the screen as it rapidly and rather prematurely winds down, at least here in the increasingly sunny south of God's Own. Incidentally, but intriguingly, espying an old newspaper clipping recently I noticed something rather interesting - for film buffs generally but especially for Wingnut Studios/Weta Workshop fans. In either 2000 or 2002, 'each and every kiwi' saw 4 films apiece that year, netting or grossing the New Zealand box office and/or the relevant filmmakers around **$100 million NZ, which even if just translated directly into 2012/2013 dollars would represent a sizeable one-tenth of the Hobbit's internationally-cited nettings/grossings of one billion dollars, last I heard anyhow. So you can see that if each and every New Zealander also saw The Hobbit an average of my own hoped-for 4 times, Jackson, Walsh, Boyens, Taylor et al'd be onto a (financial) winner beyond all description. And through their exceptional talents I'd suggest Aotearoa, in particular our tourism industry, would not be far behind. (**But in today's dollars who knows what the comparable figure might be... .)

A Glimpse of Goodness in a Chasm of Ghastliness (#3)

It seems a jinx associated with 'the best laid plans of mice [or muppets] and men' is indeed afflicting me at present, as - who wouldn't have guessed it? - my first (now apparently permanently misplaced/lost somewhere in the cybersphere) posting upon this topic - focusing almost exclusively upon the very reason I began this topic, i.e. the gruesome, grisly events, and national/international reaction, around the gang-raped/(ultimately) murdered (apparently physiology rather than medical) student (as first wrongly reported) - has now in one important sense 'been superseded by subsequent events', as is so often the case. But c'est la vie, as they say, and small bikkies in light of those horrendous events and their even more momentous aftermath, an aftermath now playing out upon the Indian and world stage as the five males involved in said incident are given their initial court hearing. Anyhow, the following represents what, to the best of my ability, was my response to the incredible news reportage on Friday the 4th evening (New Zealand time) that no-one, i.e. no-one in the legal profession, in all of India was apparently prepared to represent said accused. Which would or could hardly surprise anyone remotely acquainted with this horrific case, a case which has evidently, and for obvious, perfectly understandable reasons, galvanized the whole Indian nation as it were, and has certainly propelled it onto the TV screens and front newspaper pages of our world. So let's begin by saying that the aforementioned (see posting #2) epidemic of (especially egregious, gratuitous and intense) violence once again engulfing Planet Earth, showing new footholds being 'gained' and sinister new twists and turns being taken all across our globe - in this new year and even and especially since the Sandy Mount school massacre in the U.S. - has been overshadowed by the ghastly gang-rape and death of this Indian student. And for once, both in the tenor of its approach and the actual contents thereof, the international media, alongside and following its Indian counterpart, has 'stepped up to the mark' and shown its quality; has certainly given it every bit of exposure it necessarily warrants. But firstly vis-a-vis India's legal fraternity (as of last Friday, anyhow.)

ALL POWER, CREDIT AND PRAISE to the Indian legal fraternity who, in an (?internationally)unprecedented action - in light of the appalling nature of the crime - are[were] steadfastly refusing to even countenance  legal aid/assistance to the fiends involved, for fiends they surely were. For the brutal cold-blooded gang-rape and prolonged assault - and ultimate killing, nay murder - of an Indian student returning home, presumably, on a bus trip: a woman no doubt otherwise destined for greatness. That is, until this awful tragedy saw her life prematurely cut short. Yet, and for that very reason, in view of the impending vote by the Indian Parliament upon legislation still to be fully drawn up, in a vote that will no doubt now be not only overwhelming, but maybe even unanimous, her - as yet unpublicized - name will doubtless, as already suggested, be 'inscribed' upon it. And thus her name, and hence legacy, indeed because of this very tragedy, is indeed still 'destined for greatness', and will live on in Indians' and womens' lives internationally, as the figurehead/lightning-rod for galvanizing long-delayed action upon womens' treatment in India.

And to those who take deep-seated umbrage at such a suggestion - i.e. of the collective 'waiver' by Indian lawyers of the long-established right of everyone to 'due process', clearly a deeply cherished and integral part of the legal process of Commonwealth jurisdictions such as India founded upon the British justice system and especially its emphasis upon basic, inalienable common rights and privileges - well, in this one instance spare your pompous pontificating for another more appropriate occasion. As with the eruption of do-gooders and other apologists who emerged like proverbial ants/cockroaches following America's capture and/or trial and/or summary execution of such human vermin as Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein, though their collective voices were strangely resoundingly silent during the respective reigns of terror and/or genocide of said 'gentlemen' either in their own homelands or throughout the world, between (and even before) 1990 through 2011 - learn to appreciate better the place of balance in matters of world justice. I would respectfully suggest that 'your average punter' both here (in the West), there (in India) and indeed everywhere (throughout this celestial orb) has/have a much better intuitive/instinctual grasp and understanding of 'natural justice' than any of your ilk ever will. And indeed for all those who ever reflectively defer to Maori here in God's Own Country, well, have you never heard of the long-established custom, still evidently practised in this 'enlightened' day and age, of 'utu' - commonly understood and *translated as 'revenge' or 'vengeance', but roughly approximating to such ancient notions, whether Western or otherwise, of natural justice.?  (*'Revenge or satisfaction' in the 1979 Heinemann New Zealand Dictionary.)
Or would you here implicitly and even unconsciously default to the real, usually unspoken - for obvious reasons - view of so many liberal elitists on this sort of issue, that 'the poor natives' are really somewhat benighted on such matters?; thus displaying the very sort of patronizing, paternalistic dribble that such politicos have invariably attributed to their old-fashioned, out of touch, fuddy-duddy Mother England-boot licking ideological opponents over many generations. But of course the arguments are ever infinitely malleable whenever they happen to serve one's own ideological agenda, eh. Moral relativism personified.

And so to/for all those meddling Western apologists and so-called do-gooders now (if tentatively, for obvious, understandable reasons) crawling out of the woodwork and over one another in their mad scramble to make excuses for/defend the brutal fiends/thugs involved - in response, say, to the inevitable rush, nay probably stampede now, to judgment, of/by Indian lawmakers et al to bring in the death penalty
for said perpetrators, even possibly lowering its ambit perhaps to cater for/to the 12-year-old who apparently/evidently took a leading role in the 'incident' - I, and doubtless (hundreds of) millions (of especially Indians) have but one thing to say (to you): you know nothing, and have no idea whatsoever. And, believe you me, I'm being kind and generous - in the extreme. What right have you to pontificate upon the rights and wrongs of (a) victim/s of such horrific events/happenings? No, really? Unless and until one of your own loved ones undergoes/experiences just such a ghastly sort of thing, you have no right whatsoever to criticize, much less condemn the supposed/alleged 'inhumanity' of those - quite naturally and understandably - crying out for (seemingly heartless) revenge/vengeance.

Nay, for a long-forgotten principle of Western society, simply termed natural justice. Or 'a fair go' in New Zealand's own proverbial vernacular - a 'concept', however, having both 'positive' and 'negative' implications, as the well-publicized trial of Norway's very own, one and only, mass murderer, Anton Breijik Breivik,, showed so well. No, Norwegians generally didn't deem him merely insane, deluded, a mere madman, as so many erroneously and I would suggest scurrilously today likewise denote Adolf Hitler and his henchmen. No, they knew perfectly well what they were doing, and yes, they were downright evil - indeed evil personified in Hitler's (and others') case/s. However unwelcome such an ascription may well be to your hypervigilant sensibilities.
 
To paraphrase an old and well-known native (American) Indian saying: Don't - you dare - criticize your brother (or sister) until you've walked a mile in his (or her) mocassins. Or to cite a wholly different, supposedly Western, but actually Semitic, tradition: You're walking upon holy, sacred ground. For human beings are indeed sacred (beings), having been made in God's own image, however admittedly defaced that image appears at times Yep, the Good Book declares: whosoever sheds (his fellow human's) blood, by him shall his blood be shed, for in God's own image He made him [i.e. man and woman]. And whether we still live under a theocracy or not - and we patently do not - most people instinctively understand and implicitly agree with such a sentiment; however unnerving and unsettling it may well be to modern ears - including, believe it or otherwise, my own. It just somehow has the ring of truth about it, far above and way beyond our petty human reason(ing)s, however carefully reasoned, intricately developed and speciously articulated.
And if you have a problem with that, I have just one thing to say: take it up with 'the Man Upstairs'.
I hear He's open for business come the fast approaching Judgment Day; and I've heard He not only makes no mistakes - His judgment is flawless - but He tends to have the last word.: upon all of us, myself included!

A Glimpse of Goodness in a Chasm of Ghastliness (#2)

Barely has a new year - and 'post-Apocalyptic era' at that - opened upon humanity than we are once more confronted with how great an oxymoron that word - 'humanity', supposedly representing qualities of empathy, compassion, kindness, understanding and 'fellow feeling' - is. For surely a very real, eminently reasonable and patently indisputable case could well be made that the constantly extolled and repeated - to ad nauseum and far beyond - politically correct to a fault, diatribe force-fed modern 'man' through all manner of mass media, i.e. that homo sapiens is gradually, if ever so imperceptibly, progressing, evolving into ever better and greater things, 'from the goo via the zoo to you' as one wag has put it, is rendered pure mockery every single day - and night - one happens to turn on the TV or radio news. For quite the contrary to this fictitious view of humankind rising ever higher upon the moral scale of worth, we see him, and her, diving ever deeper and more and more inexorably into new, previously unfathomed depths and sewers of depravity, viciousness and sheer evil.

And here I am strictly confining myself to the realm of senseless, heartless, ruthless, merciless violence, brought into clear focus internationally once more by the United States of America - even prior to 2013 or Christmas-time 2012 - in the Sandy Mount, Connecticut primary school massacre. To the point where this morning BBC News disclosed the very real possibility that 'special body armour', i.e. bullet-proof vests, presently being manufactured in Bogota, Columbia, may well soon be made available to American school children. But not alone in the U.S., nor only amidst the dark, daily horrors of Bashar al-Assad's blood-thirsty Syrian regime, nor just among the sporadic but continual suicide bombings and other acts of barbarism witnessed everyday throughout the eastern Middle East is such violence all too evident. Whether against groups of aid workers or courageous fellow citizens including 'minors' or helter-skelter against any and all civilians who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time - in addition to the never-ending insurgencies against anyone and everyone suspected of having any links whatsoever to their mortal enemies or religious rivals - in such nations as Pakistan and Iraq we constantly are shown the ugly outbursts of a more than inhuman rage and wrath and seemingly unceasing brutality and callousness and diabolical cruelty. No, even now here in 'God's Own' itself we see - yeah, I accept, on a much lesser scale, but nevertheless - equally barbaric instances of humanity at its worst and most vicious.

Almost simultaneously, though with widely different outcomes, we heard, at the peak of New Year's 'festivities' nationwide, of two 60-some-year-olds, one a community gardener giving back, in a solo fashion, to her fellow Nelsonites at the top of New Zealand's South Island, the other an 'ex-pat' on holiday leave from Australia visiting the North Island's Waihi, merely attempting to blend into the celebratory mode of things, as he naturally assumed, there. Both met, admittedly, much more than their 'match' physically, though infinitely lesser beings on all scales of moral and spiritual worth. Sadly for kith and kin, the 62-year-old woman in Nelson may survive - by the veritable scruff of her neck, apparently - but will doubtless suffer ongoing trauma from her vicious attacker's cowardly assault. However the 64-year-old visitor from Aussie quickly departed this mortal life shortly after the random but all too successful act of ultimate unkindness of his own callous knife-wielding assailant; though his wife managed to fly over to offer some small mercies for his final few hours. As his family noted, Murray Wilkinson was "a selfless, helpless and humble man" -someone who doubtless wouldn't have hurt a fly.

Reminding me once more of someone only too aptly named Lois Dear - who for that reason alone, but also on many other levels, could've actually been my own dear Mum (whose middle name is Louise): a lady who was viciously slain in cold blood in bright middaylight a half dozen years ago. Returning to her classroom out of work hours - as no doubt was her wont - that particular weekend, she was accosted and overcome and brutally mutilated and murdered, senselessly and purposelessly having her earthly existence savagely terminated by a nasty piece of goods - to give him his full due. But oh, yes, I forgot, he was 'high on drugs'. No, he'd lowered himself by that means to the level of a brute, and even supposedly vicious 'beasts' will only act in that manner for dear life's sake, purely in self-defence, never in acts of gratuitous, meaningless brutality.

And yet in light of those tragic facts I should have trouble looking myself in the mirror, let alone snatching nightly shut-eye, for upon hearing of that 'case' I then, and staunchly, resolved to - finally - get off my chuff and actually 'do something about it'. Though long opposed to the very notion of capital punishment, I'm honest enough to increasingly accept and admit that its proponents - in a large number of instances, leaving aside the unavoidable and obviously deeply concerning one of innocent people thus being killed, which 'matter' is in many ways an incontrovertible argument against it, were there no others - are less and less impugnable as the years 'progress'. (But that for another day.) The salient point I'm getting to is that I then determined to take an action every single kiwi has open to us - though the efficacy of such is certainly open to debate: the initiating of a citizen's initiated referendum, upon receipt of the required number of signatures on which the government-of-the-day is legally bound to hold a referendum. (As just alluded to, whether many politicians frankly listen to such is another matter altogether.) But obviously, and despite standing as a candidate for Parliament in the 2008 general election, I've simply never gotten around to following through upon that resolution, much to my self-confessed shame. And despite no doubt having a ready backer in that well known kiwi patriot Norm Withers of Christchurch - whose own dear mum likewise once suffered a brutal if non-fatal attack by a thug.

Ah, the best intentions of mice and men, as they say, though like NZ's own Bret McKenzie of recent Muppet song fame, one ever wishes to see oneself as a man not a muppet. Though as they likewise say, 'the proof of the pudding is in the eating', or as that other great NZ patriot John Tamihere might have put it, we need a whole lot "more do-ey and [a whole lot] less hui". And as America's beloved J.F.K. memorably declared, among many memorable utterances: "the only thing needed for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing." Nuff said - already.