Are you an expert on everything, or just whatever anyone else happens to be talking about at the moment?
| — | kw on picky beggers |
| — | kw, fat hatred strikes back |
I had a phone call from a well-mannered, articulate Ports driver on Wednesday night who said he’d always enjoyed my radio show but was concerned I was starting to believe the propaganda from the Ports management.
I nearly choked on my chips.
The union puts out a black-and-white video, all beautifully shot and lit, featuring the families of Ports workers speaking over cloying, sentimental background music and he tells me the Ports of Auckland is producing propaganda?!
Dear me.
The three-minute clip, where wives and children talk about the dispute being about family, not about money, and how all they want is for things to stay the same, would belong right up there with the best in terms of emotive filming. The message throughout the video is that no guaranteed hours means no guaranteed income and yet anyone who listens to the news will know that the workers have been offered a guarantee of 160 hours a month.
Now, there may be conditions to that, but it does put paid to the union’s simplistic message.
I sympathise with the workers - all along they were the ones who were going to get hurt. Not Gary Parsloe. Not the Ports management.
And maybe they’re the ones who are right and all of us working all hours on contracts are wrong. Maybe we should have all taken the stand that the union is taking now when we were moved off staff and on to flexible contracts.
But we didn’t and those flexible contracts seem to be the way most companies do business. The union’s pleas for things to stay the same seemed somewhat redundant in the modern world - and now the workers are redundant too.
| — | KW on warfies and unions |
To a certain extent I understand where Bennett is coming from. I too came from a small town and I too had high aims and ambitions. I longed to be the lover of a man who had his own jet, and would buy me islands and would make me ache with a burning desire.
But it was not to be. I wasn’t pretty or slim or calculating enough to be a rich man’s tart, and I wasn’t clever enough to manufacture the existence I dreamed of.
So I gave it up and settled for what I could get, and I’m happy.
Bennett, the sad prick, couldn’t settle and so he lied and cheated and deceived. Theft because you’re a sad, dumpy, middle-aged guy who can only bang hot girls by buying them is the worst possible excuse for theft.
Put him away.
| — | satan |
| — | nice, kw |
| — | kw |