INVESTIGATE
THE ANZACS
THE REASON FOR GALLIPOLI
If they’d succeeded,
NEW ZEALAND’S BEST NEWS MAGAZINE
they could have saved millions of lives
AUCKLAND’S 175th
LOOK HOW FAR NZ’S BIGGEST CITY HAS COME
VOYAGE TO NEW ZEALAND
WHAT IT WAS REALLY LIKE ON THE PIONEER SHIPS Apr/May 2015, $8.60
MARK STEYN AMY BROOKE & MORE
Contents Apr/May 2015
14
THE ANZACS
For a century we have lamented Gallipoli as a monumental error, but it might be better viewed as a tragic gamble which, if they’d pulled it off, could have shortened the First World War and saved millions of lives. IAN WISHART reviews newspaper coverage of the time
22 YOUNG AUCKLAND
22
A hundred and seventy-five years after its establishment, we revisit the city as it used to be
28 PIONEER VOYAGES
What was it like coming to New Zealand as a migrant in the 1840s? JOHN MCLEAN describes life on the ships that brought out the pioneers
IN HERS
ABSOLUTE POWER
28
MICHAEL MORRISSEY examines the track record of monarchies against other forms of government
Contents
36 38
06 Editor
Speaks for itself, really
08 Communiques Your say
46
10 Steynpost Mark Steyn
12 Right & Wrong David Garrett
32 Gadgets & Mall The latest toys
34 Tech
40 Bookcase
36 Online
46 Movies
38 Science
48 Consider This
A sweet update Internet of Things New autism research
Michael Morrissey Queen & Country, Chappie Amy Brooke
32
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5
EDITORIAL
By Ian Wishart
The witch-sniffers in TV news
I
cannot believe how much moral outrage has been generated by my erstwhile colleagues in the big TV newsrooms over the issue of tourists involved in car smashes. One cannot turn on a news bulletin or read a paper these days without some holier-than-thou, 22 year old High Priestess of Dumb (masquerading as a reporter) lecturing us on foreign drivers being involved in fatalities on the road. So much angst has been whipped up that equally-dumb motorists are taking it upon themselves to seize the keys of drivers whose traffic manners they don’t like. Newsflash: when you actually look at the crash rate, most of them are caused by people from countries where – like us – they drive on the left hand side of the road and follow the same road rules. Tragedies like the recent one that killed three American Mormons in the Waikato are less common, but more genuine as examples of foreign driver error. From 1971 to 1974, annual road fatalities in New Zealand averaged 727 a year.1
For the equivalent period forty years later (2011 to 2014), annualised average road deaths were 285. But even that incredibly low figure doesn’t tell the whole story. In 1971, New Zealand’s population was only 2.8 million. Today, it is nearly five million. In other words, if our traffic death rate was as bad as 1971 today, our road crash fatalities should be somewhere in the region of 1235 a year, not 285. Why has it gone down? The answer is not speed. Our road toll was higher in the years when we had an 80km/h open road speed limit, than it is under the 100km/h speed limit. A developing culture against drink-driving has certainly helped, but the biggest impact on the road toll actually had nothing to do with enforcement campaigns. Instead, technology has introduced much safer cars, and an ongoing programme to re-engineer what were originally wagon trails into modern roads has had a big impact. There’s still much more to be done. Aussies who are used to sweeping highways still manage to kill themselves on dodgy
Our road toll is one fifth of what it used to be in real terms. Yelling at tourists is misplaced anger. Yell at the road designers instead 6 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
New Zealand corners and narrow lanes. If you’ve ever driven on American roads you’ll recall their lanes are much wider, allowing greater margin to accommodate errors, than the New Zealand equivalents. There’s another reason foreigners seem to be having more accidents here. There are more of them on the roads. In 1970, a total of 155,000 foreigners visited New Zealand. In the year to January 2015, nearly 2.9 million foreigners visited, and that doesn’t include the foreign students on long term-stay. On any given day, around 8,000 foreign tourists will be travelling on a road somewhere in New Zealand, and most of those journeys will be on the open road where the bulk of the fatalities happen. Unlike California’s 1000 km Pacific Coast Highway, New Zealand’s equivalent State Highway 1 through the North Island has few median barriers, and much narrower lanes. Unlike overseas equivalents, most NZ highways are single lane, not dual carriageways. Our road toll is one fifth of what it used to be in real terms. Yelling at tourists is misplaced anger. Yell at the road designers instead. Oh, and if you want a foreign driver to see you before they pull out, drive with your headlights on during the day. Makes a big difference. References: 1. www.transport.govt.nz/research/roadtoll/ annualroadtollhistoricalinformation/
www.epson.co.nz/precisioncore
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Volume 11, Issue 149, ISSN 1175-1290 [Print] Chief Executive Officer Heidi Wishart Group Managing Editor Ian Wishart NZ EDITION Advertising Josephine Martin 09 373-3676 sales@investigatemagazine.com Contributing Writers: Hal Colebatch, Amy Brooke, Chris Forster, Mark Steyn, Chris Philpott, Michael Morrissey, Miranda Devine, Richard Prosser, Claire Morrow, James Morrow, Len Restall, Laura Wilson, and the worldwide resources of MCTribune Group, UPI and Newscom Art Direction Heidi Wishart Design & Layout Bozidar Jokanovic Tel: +64 9 373 3676 Fax: +64 9 373 3667 Investigate Magazine, PO Box 188, Kaukapakapa, Auckland 0843, NEW ZEALAND AUSTRALIAN EDITION Editor Ian Wishart Advertising sales@investigatemagazine.com Tel/Fax: 1-800 123 983 SUBSCRIPTIONS Online: www.investigatemagazine.com By Phone: Australia 1-800 123 983 NZ 09 373 3676 By Post: To the PO Box NZ Edition: $85 AU Edition: A$96 Email: editorial@investigatemagazine.com, ian@investigatemagazine.com, australia@investigatemagazine.com, sales@investigatemagazine.com, helpdesk@investigatemagazine.tv All content in this magazine is copyright, and may not be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher. The opinions of advertisers or contributors are not necessarily those of the magazine, and no liability is accepted. We take no responsibility for unsolicited material sent to us. Please enclose a stamped, SAE envelope. Inquiries in the first instance should be made via email or fax. Investigate magazine Australasia is published by HATM Magazines Ltd
COVER: NEWSCOM/MAXPPP
Your say
THE FACTS The world peak price of oil in July 2013 was US$98 per barrel. At that time the retail price of regular petrol was NZ$2.29 per litre at peak. The current world price of oil is just US$ 44.84 per barrel. The current retail price of Regular has slunk back up to NZ $1.96 per litre in Wellington. The Government’s fuel tax is still 67.7 cents per litre, as it was last year. Do the maths, NZ! Citizens are being ripped off, big time, and just meekly taking it. Why are politicians and the media so afraid of the oil companies who are gouging huge profits in this country? It’s money that is needed in other sectors of our economy. B.A. Newth, Wellington
TOTALITARIA ROLLING OUT “ This is the Uber City — the new ‘progressive’ globalist corporate Auckland. ” The recent apparent ongoing subversion by Auckland Transport of the 2013 virtual no chemical sprays policy of Auckland Council, leaves many people fearing for their well being, and confused at how this could be happening in a democracy. Numerous community action groups in the Auckland area have been finding that their efforts to see hard won Auckland Council policies implemented, are being undermined by the bureaucracies and Boards that exist under Council. Groups as disparate as community gardeners, and yacht squadrons on the sparkling Waitemata, are finding they have one thing in common. They are all being trampled on by the noxious weed of a new global Feudal Corporate Order which is causing the observable death pangs of democracies destruction. (People claim worse may come with the TPP.) This is because certain hidden faceless bureaucrats, and the politicians in Wellington (both left and right) — who plotted over successive Governments for the establishment of the Super City, modelled much of their thinking on the undemocratic aspects of the history of Singapore’s city— state scheme, combined with some UN ultra vision of a futuristic cockroach derived (I kid
8 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
you not) artificial food eating utopia – more like Star Trek’s make believe society, than a realistic loving humanity. A model Honduras is presently taking ‘forward’ in establishing business corporate owned cities, where the people existing in them are no longer citizens protected by Honduran laws, but Godlessly are only to function as work units in the equation of a new regime more attuned to efficient high profit extraction — than life in all its fullness. Are we being herded there degree by degree as well? — Note the remarks below of the Chinese Government appointed governor of Hong Kong, this is widespread. Our politicians positively salivated over the opportunity to make a new local government corporate setup which would run more along the lines of, and be favourable to, big corporate business and just their political parties hierarchies behind–the–scenes, with certain political parties “useful idiots” sometimes heading things up and others working away in the woodwork. Both sides of Parliament pushed the Auckland Uber City through with all of its anti Democratic provisions. Neither small nor medium sized New Zealand businesses, nor even just us New Zealanders, matter at all in this new “Super” set up. We are all ultimately destined to be no more than units to be statistically modelled, mathematically played with, computer digested and regurgitated into high density accommodation containers and effectively and efficiently delivered daily by Auckland Transport to our profit extraction locations. It is after all only logical and efficient, many selected peer reviewed papers written by academia’s priesthood say so. We all know the planet will rotate all the better for it. Who are you to demur? You don’t matter any more, you are only but one of billions of humans, whales, dolphins, 150 year old Kauris, and other things that really matter much more to the cosmos. A human is no longer the measure of our society, a dollar on a computer screen is worth more to some. This is not a Super City, but the UN’s future-frightening Uber City—and your doorstep has been wrangled into it – right here and now.
We are their latest experimental implementation. Isn’t it fun to be a lab rat? A strange and weird fusion of the globalists’ political dream and a corporate profit taking Shangrilah where nothing can stop them. The Tower of Babel undone. But what Auckland Council paper has been written to defend, protect, and then enhance our God given human spirit’s aspirations, hopes and dreams? Instead, this Uber City administration extends right down to smallest’ suburban cafés having to pay apparent racketeering style fees to Auckland Transport to have chairs outside for people to relax on, while sipping their hot drinks. It cancels Santa parades. Why should businesses who pay both taxes and rates have to pay Council so that citizens of the Uber City who pay taxes and
important than protecting the main harbour for future generations. Nothing will be left untouched, for there are none of Western democracy’s historic checks and balances currently. Their town planning throws out all we have learnt in New Zealand, suitable to our region and lifestyles, and replaces it with a UN treaty derived — new false globalist vision for humanity, a new kind of Holy Grail with many smaller chalices of new, wisdom– lacking, absurdity. In their quest for their illusive perfect “holey rail”, they desire a 2,400,000,000 dollar hole in the ground (plus yet to happen but foreseeable overruns) at Britomart Train Station, reaching uptown to Mt. Eden. (Yet a visiting Indian internationally renowned professor recently warned that other cities have found
Boards are always to be deferred to in any and all matters by bodies democratically beneath them – that must always remain our distinctive as the heritage of our people which empowers our measure of freedom. Lets not be complacent about the democracy our ancestors fought hard to achieve, it is equally a gift from God, to be preserved and enhanced for future generations. Work hard to keep it and make it work for all. Make an appointment and go and talk to your local member of Parliament personally about it. Paul Norman, Community worker
rates directly or through their rent, can have chairs that sit on the pavement—that all of their rates together have already paid for? Paying fees way beyond anything needed to cover inspections? The cities public assets are for rent and sale — we can even raise loans and pay for them again as happened to electricity supply in New Zealand. We went from the nation owning electricity production, and distributing it through locally elected non profit boards — to now a multi level wholesaling and retailing profit extracting extravaganza — that doesn’t even have to guarantee to deliver the overpriced electricity to your door. Isn’t being “progressive” really just so much fun, and now Auckland is set up for being sold off as well. Just get the Council so in debt that it can’t avoid selling the ports, the airport, even the very roads and parks off to toll collecting fee charging companies, so that you can pay for all the assets all over again, just as we are doing for electricity, through inflated fees and charges ++plus profit. What a wonderful future! This one tiny café thing alone, highlights the wrong money policies and lack of Democratic respect for the citizens—the Public of Auckland and this nation. Beware, Wellington and Hawkes Bay! “They” want to Uber City you as well! In so many ways the Uber City destroys joyful spontaneous natural culture and replaces it with ersatz political correctness, fireworks at Aotea Square for this or that, but squashes genuinely “folksie” things. And potential shortsighted profit is more
that their tunnel investment would not give the returns being guessed at, and that there is a cheaper better and more effective way.) To squeeze the money out to dig the hole, the new Auckland ten year budget will use a term new to local government, their bureaucrats are calling:— “sweating the assets” – i.e. for ten years abandon core functions and don’t even really properly plan repairs and fixing of current things in the City. A new world leading local government strategy — close your eyes and just let things fall apart. Just so brilliant! Why has no one else spearheaded it before? True democracy provides the mechanisms to balance executive power and Technocracy with the hearts and minds of the people. And it starts by the professionals – with a servant heart attitude, always finding out what the likes of what Local Community Boards and citizens are trying to say, and achieving and facilitating whatever is worthy in it. To recognizing that in the bigger picture, the elected Council, and under that, its officers and affiliates are the democratic ruling body of Auckland, and honestly making the full essence of that work for the long term benefits that it reaps. Fragmentation between AT, other Council enterprises and the ruling Council, destroys public confidence in how the City is running, and their hard won, and for some, scarce money, is being used. “A house divided against itself will fall.” It undergirds all our laws, explicitly stated in each of them or otherwise, that in a democracy, the elected Council and the elected
against the assets of ratepayers are turning supercities into quasi City-states, run along Agenda 21 lines, which is why Auckland is now seeking the power to impose income taxes as well.
Editor responds: You are probably aware, although many voters may not be, that new rules allowing the Council to raise loans
POETRY An offering of affection I heard that you were caught up in the grip of a season’s storm, mulled wine in a chipped cup rich like blood and warm. Deep down in the southern lands wind blowing cold and sleet winter days fall at hand nights a long black sheet. Who knows the way of this place... for alone we search our way through with tears a lattice of lace – sacred, like holy writ made new. In the glow of that small light the darkened howl of a hurricane falls like a stone in flight, the sparrow has a name. A shelter for protection, the watch fire low at the hearth offers there affection, a rod, a pilgrim’s staff. Mark Raffills
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 9
STEYNPOST
By Mark Steyn
Ending with a whimper
T
copy of Charlie Hebdo... This is Mother England in 2015: You can still read samizdat literature, but your name will be entered in a state database.
he other day I wrote about a curious British reaction to the Charlie Hebdo massacre:
The other day Wiltshire Police went to a local newsagent and demanded that, in the interests of “community cohesion”, he hand over the names of every customer who bought a
The Daily Mail’s Amanda Williams reports that this was not a one-off idiosyncracy by some bozo coppers in one county, but came from the very top:
National Anti-Terror Unit Handed List Of Charlie Hebdo Stockists To Local Forces Who Then Went Round Demanding To Know Who Bought Copies The man responsible for this decision is Sir Peter Fahy, Chief Constable of Greater Manchester, who holds the additional responsibility of “national police lead for preventing extremism”. A Chief Commissar for Preventing Extremism is a title that not so long ago one would have had to go to Eastern Europe or a banana republic to find. But it is now held by a British policeman. Nevertheless, Sir Peter would like us to know that he thinks, somewhere way down the chain of command, some of the lads may have gotten a little carried away: Anti-terror units handed local police officers the names of British newsagents who stocked the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo in the wake of the Paris attacks. But the decision by some forces to then visit the outlets and quiz shopkeepers about who bought the publication was ‘overzealous and unnecessary’, Britain’s anti-terror police chief has said. Sir Peter Fahy, chief constable of Greater Manchester Police (GMP) and national police lead for preventing extremism, said he was now urgently clarifying guidance to all UK forces. It comes after police were caught asking British newsagents which sold cop-
10 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
ies of the satirical magazine for details of the customers who bought it. Shopkeepers in Wales, Wiltshire and Cheshire reported that police approached them and demanded personal information on readers of the magazine. In a letter to the Guardian, Sir Peter said that the move to provide details of newsagents to local police was intended to ‘provide community reassurance’. This is the same Sir Peter Fahy who, only two months ago, was warning that Britain could “drift into a police state” in which his officers wound up having to act as “thought police”. But why drift into a police state when you can put your foot on the gas and get there in the fast lane? My tireless compatriot Blazing Cat Fur comments: This is how a Police State operates. The same police state that turned a blind eye to Muslim Rape Gangs. I don’t think that’s an exaggeration. The wretched David Cameron was happy to march in Paris under the #JeSuisCharlie banner, but, if he were an honest man, he’d be parading under #JeSuisTheGuyWhoTakesDownTheNamesOfEveryoneWhoBuysACopyOfCharlie. Like most of the European political class, Mr Cameron recognizes he has a problem on his hands – a problem he and the rest of the Euro-elite have created: They have imported a huge population that, even discounting those who wish to join ISIS or slaughter British soldiers on the streets of Woolwich, has no great enthusiasm for English liberties. With the characteristic arrogance of an insulated ruling class, Cameron thinks the solution to the problem is an enhanced security state mediating relations between his fractious citizenry. And, if that means reigning in English liberties, such as the freedom to read a magazine without being monitored by the state, so be it. Because he cannot address the problem honestly, Cameron has to give his security apparatchiks creepy, evasive titles like “national lead for preventing extremism”. But the danger in giving someone an evasively-named job is that he’ll end up doing it evasively. After all,
what’s easier for the lazy, bullying PC Plods of the new security state? Cracking down on Muslim grooming gangs who’ll laugh at them, steal their helmets, file Islamophobia complaints and tie them up in sensitivity-training for the next six months? Or cracking down on those few remaining British subjects in whom the spark of liberty still flickers by monitoring them for reading unapproved jokes? I often describe myself as a 19th-century British imperialist a century past his sell-by date. What do I mean by that? Well, I fleshed it out a bit in America Alone, personally autographed copies of which are exclusively available from the SteynOnline bookstore and go to support my pushback against litigious dweeb Michael E Mann and the other Big Climate enforcers... Where was I? Oh, yeah, England, land of hope and glory, mother of the free. From page 167 of America Alone: In 2003, Tony Blair spoke to the United States Congress. “As Britain knows,” he said, “all predominant power seems for a time invincible but, in fact, it is transient. The question is: What do you leave behind?” An excellent question. Today, threesevenths of the G7 major economies are nations of British descent. Of the 20 economies with the highest GDP per capita, no fewer than 11 are current or former realms of Her Britannic Majesty. And if you protest that most of those are pinprick colonial tax havens – Bermuda, the Caymans – okay, eliminate all territories with populations lower than 20 million and the Top Four is an Anglosphere sweep: the United States, United Kingdom, Canada and Australia. The key regional players in almost every corner of the globe are British-derived – South Africa, India – and, even among the lesser players, as a general rule you’re better off for having been exposed to British rule than not: try doing business in Indonesia rather than Malaysia, or Haiti rather than St Lucia. And of course the pre-eminent power of the age derives its political character from 18th century British subjects who took English ideas a little further than the mother country was willing to go.
I believe that. I was born in Canada, and just about everything that works in my own deranged Dominion (as Stephen Harper once suggested to his befuddled London hosts) came from the Mother Country. Germany, Italy, France et al gave us better art, music, food, women, but it is the English-speaking world that has seeded and grown liberty on every corner of the earth – property rights, self-government, fair courts, laws of contract, free speech... And through the last century it is the English-speaking world that has defended and fought for those liberties when the rest of the west has turned to dark and crude perversions. So the death of England is not like the death of Sweden or Belgium. It represents the foulest betrayal of a glorious inheritance. I have quoted before my old National Post comrade George Jonas – that things aren’t wrong because they’re illegal, they’re illegal because they’re wrong. If an English policeman no longer knows it’s wrong to ask a newsagent for the names and addresses of those who purchased a particular magazine, no amount of “clarifying” “guidance” from Sir Peter Fahy can help him. And if an English Chief Constable no longer knows it’s wrong to demand the national distributor cough up the names of all the stockists he’s shipped it to, no amount of bland soft-totalitarian blather about “providing community reassurance” can alter the fact that an English public servant is subverting a core liberty – an English liberty. A society can survive losing this or that liberty as they ebb and flow across the centuries, but there are no easy roads back when it loses the spirit of liberty. And that is what Sir Peter Fahy and his ilk are missing. When David Cameron appeared with David Letterman a couple of years back, he knew the date Magna Carta was signed, but didn’t know what it meant.1 In this 800th anniversary year, in the coercive hyper-security state over which he presides, that no longer seems so surprising. References: 1. www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/9571852/David-Camerons-ignoranceover-Magna-Carta-and-Rule-Britanniaexposed.html © 2015 MArk Steyn
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 11
RIGHT & WRONG
By David Garrett
Name suppression in the internet age
A
t the end of January, Mike Sabin, then National MP for Northland resigned, citing “personal issues best dealt with outside parliament.” At the time of writing, we know that Sabin is facing unspecified charges in an unspecified court for unspecified offences. Is he the same “prominent New Zealander” who faced 14 charges in the High Court in January, all details of which are suppressed? Who knows? And if he was, and I knew, I certainly couldn’t give any details here. People will speculate. I have made no inquiries. I don’t know. The media is in fact so uncertain of what it can and can’t publish about the matter that most outlets have not even published the fact that Sabin is “before the Courts” – despite Speaker of the House David Carter saying so in response to parliamentary questions by the Labour party.
A few months ago, there was considerable media speculation about the “prominent New Zealander” who was convicted of an assault of a sexual nature on a woman in Queenstown. There cannot have been more than a handful of people who wanted to know who he was, but could not find out from 30 minutes on the internet – that is if someone down at the local pub couldn’t tell them. It seemed that everyone in New Zealand who wanted to know his name knew it. The rules surrounding name suppression – including the penalties for breaching it – are ludicrously out of date. Those rules were written at a time when the internet was not even science fiction – even 20 years ago no-one could have foreseen “websites” – we had to invent a new name for them – which existed in a computer server somewhere, perhaps thousands of kilometres away and in a different country from the owner of it, and those able to read and comment on it.
In what circumstances should suppression orders be made in the first place? Should perpetrators be allowed to benefit from orders intended to protect their victims? 12 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
We now have the ludicrous situation where a name suppressed in New Zealand can be published on a website domiciled somewhere else, where the orders of a New Zealand Court do not apply – including the laws surrounding contempt of court. And even if they did, how would a New Zealand court bring to book the owner or publisher of a website whose server is in Panama or the Czech Republic? The very idea is absurd. It is not much less absurd to suggest – even if it is theoretically correct – that New Zealanders reading such content on a foreign domiciled website could be prosecuted. How on earth are the authorities going to find out? Only in Green Party fantasy is the government concerned with every e-mail we send, or whether we look at foreign based websites which just might contain information, the publication of which is prohibited in this country. There are of course some very good reasons for name suppression orders being made, the most obvious of course being the protection of young victims of sexual assault. But even in that sensitive area, the blunt instrument of name suppression requires reform. I was recently involved in a case of two adult women who had had their names automatically suppressed because they had been victims of a paedophile when they were children. The case was unusual in that while the offending occurred when they were under age – and unarguably in need of protection – the paedophile was convicted at a trial which took place when the
complainants were adults. They did not seek protection then, and later became outraged when the High Court decreed that the paedophile also had automatic name suppression because of his (then) familial relationship with the victims. The women were forced to go to the District Court in order to get their own names unsuppressed. They wished also to unmask the paedophile who, in their quite understandable view, had hidden behind an order designed to protect the victims, and not a violator of young girls. The women were successful in getting their own names un-suppressed but not that of their attacker; the case continues in the Court of Appeal. But back to the internet. It can only be a matter of time before someone – perhaps a New Zealander resident in Australia or somewhere in the Pacific – sets up a website whose major purpose is to emulate Wikileaks and “name and shame” type websites, and publishes the names of every beneficiary of a suppression order issued by a New Zealand Court. What exactly would or could a New Zealand Court do, other than huff and puff in an appropriately judicial fashion? If said crusader was a New Zealander, I suppose they could be punished in some way, obviously by arrest if they
ever returned here, but perhaps also by – say – cancelling the entitlement to a pension. Aside from the question of whether to take such drastic action would be using a sledgehammer to crack a nut, some law change would be required, and a draconian law change to stop someone publishing the name of convicted paedophiles would not be something any of the parties currently in parliament would warmly embrace. So what can be done? There is little doubt the Courts must confront and respond to technological developments unimaginable when the laws regarding suppression were formulated – but what? In my view the judiciary – and the politicians – have just tried to pretend that things are always as they were, or at the very least, put the whole question in the “too hard” basket. That cannot be allowed to continue; every time someone decides to “publish and be damned” – as Whaleoil’s Cameron Slater did a year or two ago – the public are reminded of the judiciary’s impotence in this regard in the age of the internet. While I am not normally a great fan of Commissions of Enquiry – particularly as they are often set up in New Zealand – it seems to me that there is little choice but to take that road. Any such enquiry
must of necessity be wide ranging in its terms of reference. It must start from first principles: In what circumstances should suppression orders be made in the first place? Should perpetrators – such as the paedophile referred to earlier in this piece – be allowed to benefit from orders intended to protect their victims? What rights should those subject to automatic or statutory suppression orders have to refuse such protection if it is not wanted? Why should adult complainants such as the victims I have referred to need to go to court – with all the expense and uncertainty that entails – in order to “unsuppress” details about them which they may not have wanted in the first place? The enquiry would then have to take evidence from technical experts in the world of the internet – it may be that it is simply impossible to do anything. If that is so, then that reality needs to be recognized by our Courts. As things stand, they are set up for inevitable and ongoing ridicule. Disclosure: The writer was granted permanent name suppression in 2002 after being discharged without conviction for a passport offence committed 27 years earlier.
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 13
REASSESSING GALLIPOLI
Is NZ perspective on ANZACs naïve?
For a century, the legend of New Zealand sacrifice on the fields of a rocky Turkish peninsula in 1915 has been etched into the hearts of New Zealanders everywhere. Gradually, the events of that first Anzac Day have been painted as a tribute to the pointlessness of war. But old newspaper coverage of the event provides a more nuanced perspective, as IAN WISHART reports
14 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
W
hen thousands of New Zealand and Australian troops hit the beaches at Gallipoli on 25 April 1915, many of them didn’t come home. Over the months that followed, according to ‘official figures’, 2,721 New Zealanders were killed among 8,556 who served there – a death rate of nearly one in three. When you take into account that 5,212 were wounded – the casualty rate (dead or injured) rises to nearly 93%. It appears, however, that those figures are not true. In his 2005 book Bloody Gallipoli, researcher Richard Stowers makes the case that some men were wounded several times during the course of the campaign, resulting in double or triple counting of injuries in some cases, while the actual number of Kiwi soldiers who served at Gallipoli was 13,977, which reduces our death rate from 32% to 19%. Stowers says up to 18,000 New Zealanders may actually
have been on the battlefield, which further reduces the significance of the casualty rate. But what was Gallipoli actually about? Modern New Zealanders who’ve received the rose-coloured version of the story at high school can’t get their heads around why New Zealanders and Australians were even fighting Turkey over a war that began in the Balkans and was primarily between Germany’s Kaiser Wilhelm and his cousin King George of Britain. In recognition of the 100th Anniversary of Gallipoli, Investigate is reprinting century-old news coverage of how the Anzac story broke back home. What’s significant, apart from how long news of the tragedy took to emerge, is the clear argument that our fellow New Zealanders laid out 100 years ago, in support of the war. It was, the reports show, a war for the supremacy of empires. Ascendant Germany, a relatively recently emergent nation-state replacing and unifying the
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THE REASON FOR GALLIPOLI, AS THE REPORTS WILL SHOW, IS THAT IF THE TURKS COULD BE DEFEATED THERE, THE ALLIED FORCES WOULD HAVE A SAFE BEACHHEAD FROM WHICH TO MOUNT A PINCER ATTACK FROM BEHIND ON GERMANY AND AUSTRIA, CUTTING SHORT THE DURATION OF WORLD WAR ONE
smaller kingdoms of Prussia, Bavaria and the like, allied itself with its ideological parent, the Austro-Hungarian empire, in a plan to defeat the British empire, of which New Zealand and Australia was part. In 1914, just after war was declared, the Germans and Austrians signed a military pact with the Muslim Ottoman Empire in Turkey (covering most of the Middle East and as far east as Persia (modern Iran)), granting military assistance and with the promise that Turkey would help the Germans take over British colonies – the obvious targets being India and British territories in Africa. Opposing German expansion plans were France, Britain and Russia. The immediate catalyst for war was the assassination of Austria’s heir to the throne in Sarajevo. When Austria threatened war, Russia offered to defend Serbia. Germany asked France to stay neutral but then mobilised 80% of its army to the French border and declared war on France, knowing that Britain would then be dragged in as German forces marched towards the very shores of the English Channel. The Turks, for their part, opened fire on Russian ports. The reason for Gallipoli, as the reports will show, is that if the Turks could be defeated there, the Allied forces would have a safe beachhead from which to mount a pincer attack from behind on Germany and Austria, cutting short the duration of World War One. Had they managed to achieve that, millions more lives could have been saved and the war might have ended in months, not years. Instead, the Anzacs were eventually repelled, although the damage inflicted on Ottoman forces led to the eventual collapse of the last great Muslim empire. Flawed in its execution Gallipoli may
well have been, but the strategic significance of the operation should not be underestimated. Far from being a pointless battle on a far away beach in a pointless war, it was a brave but ultimately failed attempt at a crucial location to bring a swift end to what became a brutal war that killed 16 million people. At first, New Zealanders did not even realise their ‘boys’ were at the Turkish front. Here’s how the news broke in New Zealand papers, notice how news of Kiwi involvement gradually leaks out: Bay of Plenty Times, 26 April 1915, Page 5 “FORCING DARDANELLES, DECISIVE ACTION”
Begun by Allied Ships. Rec. April 25, 3.40 p.m. Athens, April 24: Unofficial reports state that a decisive action has begun in the Dardanelles. Squadrons of warships bombarded the Straits at various points west of Gallipoli and landings were effected at four points – Suvla, Gallipoli, Enos and Bulair. Bay of Plenty Times, 27 April 1915, Page 5 “ATTACK ON DARDANELLES. ENEMY’S HOWITZERS SILENCED BY THE TRIUMPH”
London, April 25: Reuter’s correspondent aboard the Triumph says the battleship entered the Dardanelles and that 7.5 inch guns opened fire on her from the trenches on the western end of the Gallipoli Range at seven thousand yards. After half an hour the Triumph changed her position, and a howitzer battery on the Asiatic shore then dropped sixteen shells in a-quarter of an hour, of which’ three struck the Triumph, inflicting trifling damage and wounding two sailors. The Triumph silenced the howitzers in a few minutes and resumed the bombardment of the trenches.
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Ashburton Guardian, 27 April 1915, Page 5 “LANDING OF BRITISH TROOPS. HOTLY OPPOSED BY THE ENEMY.”
(Received April 27, 2.10 p.m.) London, April 26: An Admiralty and War Office communique states: The general attack on the Dardanelles by the fleet and the army was resumed yesterday. The disembarkation of the army, which was covered by the fleet, began before sunrise at various points on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and, in spite of serious opposition by the enemy, behind strong entrenchments and entanglements, it was completely successful. Before nightfall a large force was established ashore. The landing continues. Feilding Star, 28 April 1915, Page 2 TROOPS LANDED ON GALLIPOLI.
Colonial Expedition to the Dardanelles Last night’s cable news is interesting – especially so to New Zealanders, as the landing of General Ian Hamilton’s expeditionary force on the shores of the Dardanelles probably indicates the latest movement of our boys. There is news from the North Sea, but mainly about skulking Germans. More terrible reports come from France regarding the gigantic effort – will it be the last? – of the enemy to get to Calais. At Ypres, where the Canadians did great work, the enemy was again slaughtered by the Allies, and fierce fighting continues. The Germans are now using more artillery on the western front than ever before in the war. From the eastern front comes the story of Hill 992 – a story as terrible as that of Hill 60, on the west. The King of Bulgaria is making a significant tour. The casualties of Canadians in Belgium has aroused the folks in Canada, where there has been a great rush in the recruiting of officers to replace those killed or wounded. Auckland Star, 29 April 1915, Page 5 “MAKING GOOD THEIR FOOTING IN GALLIPOLI”
London, April 28: The War Office and Admiralty jointly state that after days of hard fighting the allied troops on the Gallipoli Peninsula are thoroughly making good their footing, with the effective help of the Navy. The French have taken 500 prisoners. An official message from Cairo states that the Allies, under
General Sir Ian Hamilton, have effected a landing on both sides of the Dardanelles under excellent conditions. Many prisoners have been taken. The Allies continue to advance. The Turkish Council of Ministers has asked the Sultan to accept the title of ghazi, or conqueror. An official communique states that French troops especially operated at Kum Kale, at the entrance to the Dardanelles on the Asiatic side. A successful landing was effected under the protection of the Fleet. Despite the enemy’s fire the troops occupied the village and repulsed seven night counter-attacks, which were supported by heavy artillery. The enemy’s losses were heavy. Evening Post, 29 April 1915, Page 8 THE COMBINED ATTACK WHERE THE TROOPS WERE LANDED ON GALLIPOLI PENINSULA
Cape Helles, on the extremity of the peninsula, with the fort of Seddul-Bahr just to the east of it; Kum Kaleh, on the Asiatic cape opposite; Cape Suvla, twenty miles northward of Cape Helles; and the coast of the Gulf of Saros, near Ghennikos, north-west of Gallipoli, the town. There were in all probability other landings of importance. The objects of these debarkations are clear. The troops put ashore at Helles and the opposite cape have for their work the occupation of the forts at the entrance, which have already been thoroughly subdued by the ships and partly occupied. They must be rendered useless to the enemy for the future. Then they must work along the coast as they are able, and carry out the same work at the other forts along the strait, as they are prepared by
the fleet. The army landed at Suvla and at Gaba Tepe, where the Turks report meeting the Australian troops, are intended to do battle with the enemy on the peninsula; while the force landed north of the town of Gallipoli will endeavour to establish a line, probably of a purely defensive nature, across the narrow isthmus. They will face west to bottle up the Turks now on the Peninsula, and east to prevent the arrival of new forces, and as they are thus exposed to attacks on two fronts, they must be a strong body. Reduced to these terms, the operations seem very simple. But it may be possible for the enemy to land considerable reinforcements on the southern side of the peninsula, on parts of the straits beyond the control of the naval guns and this complicates the task of the landed armies.
The news that the New Zealand Contingent has been at work in Turkey, and has greatly distinguished itself, eclipses in local interest all other war news to-day. It settles at once the much-debated question of the locality of our troops – a point on which nobody who was free to talk had any definite information. No doubt many of the men, if asked where they would like to have fought, would have named France but as it is, they are fighting against the Turks in an operation which will take its place in history, not only as one of enormous importance in its relationship to the war as a whole, but as the greatest combined naval and military operation ever undertaken against coast defences. It is unfortunate for eager New Zealanders that there are no details at all to show what part the New Zealanders have taken in the operations. But that they, working no doubt in co-operation with the Australians, have done splendid work is proved by the message of congratulation to the Governor from the Secretary of State, who could hardly have used higher terms of praise. The only clue to the locality in which the colonial troops were working is given in the Turkish report that some Australians were captured at Karba-tepheh. This is probably Gaba Tepe, a cape about halfway between Cape Helles and Cape Suvla. One of today’s cablegrams gives the chief landing-places of the Allies as Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 17
Apart from the immediate interest of the Dardanelles campaign owing to the presence of the New Zealand troops, it is necessary to draw attention to the highly important statement of the Paris Temps regarding the secret meeting of the Committee of Union and Progress at Constantinople. Talaat Bey, Minister of the Interior, presided, and is reported to have said that Constantinople could not be indefinitely defended owing to lack of ammunition, and that only a junction of Austrian and Turkish forces by a fresh (and this time successful) invasion of Serbia could the position be saved. If Constantinople were seriously imperilled, he said, Turkey would negotiate for peace immediately. Sun, 29 April 1915, Page 6 NEW ZEALAND AT THE DARDANELLES
The Points Of Landing. No news received so far has been of such intense interest to New Zealanders as the news that our troops have landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula and have taken their part in the attack. We have time and again published, comprehensive maps of this area of war, but today there will be found on the back page a map (pictured) of the Dardanelles region even more helpful than previous maps. Sun, 29 April 1915, Page 7 PRAISE FOR NEW ZEALANDERS. GOVERNMENT’S WARM CONGRATULATIONS. GALLANTRY AND ACHIEVEMENT AT DARDANELLES.
Press Association – Wellington, April 28: The following cablegram has been received by his Excellency the Governor from the Right Hon. Lewis Harcourt, Secretary of State for the Colonies: “His Majesty’s Government desires me to offer you the warmest congratulations on the splendid gallantry and magnificent achievement of your contingent in the successful progress of the operations in the Dardanelles.” By Cable. Press Association. (Received April 29, 10.25 a.m.) Athens, April 28: The four, principal points of debarkation were Suvla Burnu, Helles Burnu, Kum Kaleh, and in the Gulf of Saros, on the coast below Ghennikos, and in a line with Gallipoli town. The majority of the forces landed at Sedd el Bahr. Much excitement prevails 18 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
in Greece over the Allies’ success at the Dardanelles. Many express disappointment that another splendid opportunity for Greek intervention has been lost. The points at which the allied forces have lauded are illustrated in a map published on the back page of this issue. Cable messages” received overnight were as follow: – The War Office and the Admiralty state that after a day’s hard fighting “the troops landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula, and are thoroughly making good their footing, with the Navy’s effective help. The French have taken 500 prisoners. It is officially announced at Cairo that the Allies, under General Sir Ian Hamilton, effected a landing on both sides of the Dardanelles under excellent conditions, and have taken many prisoners. The Allies continue to advance. Otago Daily Times, 30 April 1915, Page 5 MISCHIEVOUS RUMOURS
(From Our Own Correspondent.) Wellington, April 29: All day long since the receipt of the message in the morning,
rumours were in circulation to the effect that the New Zealanders had suffered severe casualties and that the Government had received advice of the numbers, which, according to the rumours and the conscience of the individuals inventing them, varied from 200 to 1,400. At 11 o’clock to-night the Commandant (Colonel Robin) had received no such information, and if any such news was received officially in New Zealand it would be communicated to him at once. In brief, the rumours were simply invented by unscrupulous persons. It may be that the New Zealanders have suffered, but it is not impossible that they have escaped almost scathless. Brilliant assaults on defended positions culminating in headlong charges have on occasion been carried through successfully – without considerable losses. On the other hand, there may be heavy casualties, which will cause grief to many who are already anxious. To add to this anxiety of parents or other relatives of soldiers at the front by inventing, or even repeating, these rumours is a practice that cannot be too strongly reprobated. The
people of New Zealand may be assured that the Government knows, no more than has been made public, and that as soon as news of casualties comes, whatever the news may be it, will be made public at once. Towards 5 pm. the Hillside Workshops employees marched to the Town Hall where, together with a large crowd they sang patriotic songs and gave cheers for “the Boys at the Front.” Punctually at 5.25 pm, his Worship the Mayor (Mr J. B. Shacklock) mounted a platform on the steps of the Town Hall, and this was the signal for a great outburst of applause. As soon as he could make himself heard Mr Shacklock said: “I know you have all heard the announcement which came through to-day that is, that our troops acquitted themselves well at the Dardanelles. (Cheers). Now the news we are looking for is that of a brilliant victory. – (Cheers.) When our troops left our shores we knew that they would acquit themselves well and justify all we expected from them. – (“Hear, hear” and loud cheering, and cries of “New /Zealand
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forever.” and the call, “Are we downhearted?” which was responded to with cries of “No.”) As soon as this outburst had subsided Mr Shacklock continued: “In warfare at the present time it is too much to expect or to hope that there have been no casualties, but we trust that when we see the casualty list it will be small.” Dominion, 1 May 1915, Page 7 BATTERED TO PIECES
There is still no news of the New Zealanders or the Australians in the Dardanelles beyond the merest hint of the disembarkation of a portion of the Australian troops, and action by artillery on the extreme tongue of the Gallipoli Peninsula. There have been further attacks on the censorship in the Federal House, but the Government stands firm by the British authorities. The “Daily Chronicle’s” correspondent sends a graphic account of the terrific bombardment with which the massed warships opened the ball for the great attack on the Turkish stronghold, and which, presumably, covered the landing operations. The Turkish defences were literally battered to pieces, and the enemy’s mobile artillery driven from pillar to post like rabbits hunting for cover. The attack is described as the most powerful offensive ever launched by warships: it lasted for twelve hours, and was most destructive in its effects. New Zealand Herald, 1 May 1915, Page 8 FALSE RUMOURS DEPRECATED
“I know that everyone in the Dominion is asking whether I can give them any news of the Dominion’s troops on active service,” said His Excellency the Governor when responding to the toast of his health at the civic dinner in the Star Hotel last evening. “I regret to tell you that I have no further news beyond what I have given to the press. The first telegram
came in yesterday morning, a few minutes after eight, and within five minutes I despatched it to the Prime Minister for publication in the Dominion. “I have taken every opportunity of giving to the public and the people of New Zealand what I considered due to them for their great and patriotic efforts in assisting the Empire,” proceeded His Excellency. “That is all the news and the first news possible that I can give.” The Imperial Government had given him instructions that on no account was the departure of the troops from Egypt, or their landing to be divulged. Neither the Government nor the censor was responsible for the fact that these things had not been made public before. He himself had simply carried out the orders of the Imperial Government, and he hoped he had done so to the letter. He would carry out every order that came in the future in the same manner. (Applause.) News could not be given out until the manoeuvres and strategy of the allies’ troops were completed. His Excellency deprecated the spreading’’ of rumours regarding the troops, and said that no one had any right to offer conjectures as to what had taken place. If anything of importance occurred he believed he would be the first person in the Dominion to know the particulars. His Excellency said he did not think any private telegrams had come through from the troops at the Dardanelles. Messages might have come from another place where some of the force might be stationed, merely to say that the men themselves were well, but he did not believe that any telegrams had come from men actually on the Gallipoli Peninsula or in Asia Minor. Statements had been made that casualties had occurred among men of the expeditionary force. He strongly depre-
cated the spreading of most unfortunate rumours. He earnestly trusted that the losses were not severe, but he thought that the sooner scandalmongers got their due the better it would be. No one had any right to conjecture as to what had taken place. Feilding Star, 3 May 1915, Page 2 OUR BOYS UNDER FIRE
The week-old story, details of which are at last coming through (as will be found
THE NEW ZEALANDERS, KNEW THEY WERE UP AGAINST A CUNNING FOE, THEY HAD TO EFFECT A DIFFICULT LANDING AGAINST ENTANGLEMENTS AND AN ENTRENCHED ENEMY, YET THEY WENT AT IT LIKE THE WELL-TRAINED MEN THEY WERE – AND MADE GOOD 20 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
in our columns to-day), show that our boys and the Australians had to bear the brunt of the battles of the landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula, on the European side of the Dardanelles, and, as the congratulations of the King indicated, the details now coming through show that the New Zealanders bore themselves like veterans and achieved the purpose arrived at brilliantly. There was a price paid, of course; but we had prepared to pay when we gave
our sons for any service they were called upon to pay wherever they were sent. The post of honour is no sinecure, and there must not only be quality of the fighter, but quantity of payment. The Canadians were trapped by a new Hunnish trick, and were savagely slaughtered in the trapping. The New Zealanders, knew they were up against a cunning foe, they had to effect a difficult landing against entanglements and an entrenched enemy, yet they went at it like the well-trained men they were
– and made good. We are prepared for the worst as to the price they paid; and when we say that we remember that there is scarcely a family from one end of the Dominion to the other – many homes here in Feilding – that has not offered a relative to the war. How nearly we may be touched by the fighting at Sedd-al Bahr we know not yet, but in anticipation we rejoice with those who may rejoice and mourn with those who must.
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Auckland’s st 1 fifty Memories of the original city In March New Zealand’s biggest city celebrated its 175th Anniversary. The bright lights of the Sky Tower beckoning visitors today are a far cry from the facilities that welcomed the first official migrants. IAN WISHART went searching through the old newspaper archives for memories of the way we were
he story of Auckland is the story of New Zealand in microcosm. Although arguably New Zealand’s prime urban real estate, nestled on the shores of two harbours and providing a gateway north and south, its very desirability made it a place of bloodshed in ancient times, frequently abandoned as each Maori tribe that captured it found they couldn’t hold it. The city became a kind of no-man’s land, the scene of a Maori Mexican stand off. The last great tribes to hold Auckland under their own muscle were Ngati Whatua and Ngati Paoa, but they got cleaned out by a musket-fuelled Ngapuhi raiding army of several thousand men in 1821 as historian Paul Moon has written: 22 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
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“Nowhere was the slaughter more concentrated than in the area alongside the Tamaki River estuary that today houses the suburbs of St Heliers, Glen Innes, Panmure and Mt Wellington, then home of the Ngati Paoa: two attacks in 1821 effectively wiped out or captured almost all Ngati Paoa. The death toll has been estimated at between 1000 and 3000 and the feasting on the dead went on for days.”1
T
hus, when the first Europeans meandered into lush Auckland, they were welcomed with open arms by the few Ngati Whatua and Ngati Paoa who remained: anyone who could act as a barrier against Ngapuhi aggression, especially as the Ngapuhi were close to Pakeha, was a good thing for the region. Paora Tuhaere, who became Ngati Whatua’s paramount chief, recognised the future of his people was intertwined forever with encouraging Pakeha to settle at Auckland, and Ngati Whatua became one of the most accommodating and progressive tribes in developing good relations with the British (which made their ill-treatment over Bastion Point by later governments all the more distasteful). The first official immigrants to Auckland from the British Isles came on ‘the first fleet’: two sailing ships from Scotland named the Jane Gifford and the Duchess of Argyle. On board, the pioneer families of Auckland2 – Scottish emigrants fleeing Glasgow and Paisley for a new promised land. Those vessels finally sailed into the Waitemata Harbour in October 1842, and there to greet them was a man nicknamed ‘the father of Auckland’, Dr John Logan-Campbell. At the fiftieth anniversary of the fleet’s arrival, in 1892, Logan-Campbell was still alive and waxing lyrical about the changes he’d seen in Auckland over a timespan roughly equivalent for modern readers to the time since Beatlemania broke out in the sixties: SPEECH BY JOHN LOGAN-CAMPBELL AT 50th REUNION OF FIRST AUCKLAND MIGRANTS, 1892
We have assembled here to-night to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of the first immigrants who
landed on the shores of the Waitemata in October, 1842, from the good ships the Jane Gifford and Duchess of Argyle. I have been asked to preside as being a pioneer of a still earlier date, and who witnessed the birth of Auckland in 1840.3 It was my lot to be living on the little island of Motu Korea, now known under the less euphonious name of Brown’s Island, for some months previous to the Government arriving and founding the infant capital of New Zealand. I have, therefore, been an eye-witness to its birth, seen it arise from out the fern wilderness, and have lived to see the change which two-and fifty years have brought about. How great those changes have been can only be realised by those who remember the fern-clad waste which then spread far and wide around the spot where we are now assembled, and which has since been converted into the well-paved and gas-lighted streets of this city. How different indeed to the day when the pioneer settlers from the Clyde sailed into Auckland Harbour. Then, her shores boasted neither charming villa nor smiling farm homestead. Beautiful were her shores then, when robed in only Nature’s vesture, and beautiful through all time her shores will ever be. At that long ago date, high water tide rippled on the beach where now stands the Post Office. Some parts of Queen Street still presented patches of luxuriant flax swamps, and Shortland Crescent was the great thoroughfare. It was a thoroughfare winding along a narrow path through high fern and tea-tree away up a then very steep hill, passing the late site of St. Paul’s Church, and leading away down the bay to the Government offices and dwellings of the officials. When the two vessels arrived from the Clyde, Auckland was still in a very primitive state. We had not quite discarded the tents and raupo huts in which we first lived, and we were quite proud of the few scattered weatherboarded houses which began to mark out the lines of the streets. As for the streets, these were literally in a state of nature, and that state of nature in wet weather was ankle deep at least in mud. Pedestrians in those days – and pedestrians we were all obliged to be – had to be very wary how they bent their steps, or they might come to grief.
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There was a well-known figure amongst us then – in point of age he was the father of the settlement, and had grown to be somewhat shaky in the knees. The poor old fellow every now and then did come to grief, and we had on these occasions to give him a helping hand to extricate him from the mud holes in which he got bogged. Hence, in course of time he became known amongst us by the appropriate soubriquet of “Old Stick in the Mud.” I can recall an incident, seeing a lady and her daughter who wanted to cross Shortland Crescent, standing critically scrutinising the treacherous-looking mud, where safest to make the venture. The old lady proved the bolder of the two, and made a dash at it – alas! when she got across she was minus a shoe! I cannot commend the young lady’s conduct on seeing the plight of her respected parent, for she stood convulsed with laughter. It was all very well for her, for she was still on her own side of the street with both her shoes on! As illustrating the vicissitudes of this life to which we are subject, I may tell you that worthy lady within a short period previously drove in her own carriage in Liverpool, her husband a merchant prince of that great city. Sudden and overwhelming losses overtook him, making it too painful to live in the scene of his earlier prosperity. Like a brave old man he took heart of grace, and faced a new life in a new land, and arriving amongst us, with an admirable resignation accepted the deprivations of those early days. I doubt not that some of the grandchildren of my old friend, now long passed away, are listening to me tonight. They have every reason to hold his memory in proud remembrance. I alluded to the loss of the shoe, as proving how much we required to mend our ways, and it so happened that it was the landing on our shores of the immigrants from the Clyde that first enabled us to begin. The simultaneous arrival of two ships’ load of settlers of course glutted our limited capacity to employ labour, so we awoke to the first cry of the unemployed. Then, as now, an appeal was made to the Government to find work; the appeal was responded to, and picks and shovels
were served out from the Government store, and a road party was set to work. I daresay you would like to know the value of a day’s labour at that epoch. The motto of the working man of to-day of eight hours work, eight hours play, eight hours sleep, eight shillings a day, was then still far in the future – these were not eight shilling days; no, it was only the modest sum of half-a-crown [A crown was five shillings, or around 50 cents]. Times are indeed changed. It was only lately that I read of a meeting of the unemployed at Christchurch. The spokesman indignantly upbraided the Government for only offering, as he put it, the miserable pittance of six shillings. I see by my journal it was just a week after the arrival of the vessels, on the 17th of October, and I well remember the morning when the road party first commenced operations in Shortland Crescent, just opposite my firm’s premises. What with levelling down the opposite side, which was away twenty feet up in the air, and levelling up the lower side, our premises got buried, so we had to put up a second storey and enter at the old roof level. I am glad to say that it was for a very short time that our improvements were carried on at the two-and-sixpence a day rate. The new-comers soon found profitable employment at their respective handicrafts, and began to flourish. Of course, they had their struggles, their ups and downs in life, but they faced these like hard-headed Scotchmen which they were, and ultimately reaped their reward. As a body they had little cause ever to regret they had left behind them “Caledonia stern and wild,” and pitched their camp in this brighter and happier land, and they and their descendants have reaped a material prosperity which the old world would have failed to bring them. That land – “land of the mountain and the flood” – dear as it is in old associations, has its sombre side: the sun shines but in fitful rays at fitful times, ever struggling to dispel the doom. Here we have a bright and beautiful sky, here we have a genial and inspiriting climate which makes life an ever-existing pleasure. Surely I may congratulate you, the children and children’s children represented here tonight, even to the fourth Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 25
GREAT INDEED ARE THE CHANGES WHICH WE OLD IDENTITIES HAVE WITNESSED DURING THE PASSING AWAY OF THE LAST HALF-CENTURY – CHANGES OF A KIND IT IS NOT LIKELY IT WILL EVER BE YOUR LOT TO LOOK UPON
generation, that your forefathers bade a last and long farewell to their native land, thus changing your destiny to this much brighter country, and that your lot has been cast in pleasanter places. The danger that lies in your path is that you may too easily acquire and indulge in those comforts and luxuries which lead to enervated lives and ultimately to deterioration of character. Be but true to yourselves, and to the ancient traditions of the land of your forefathers, and a happy future is in store for you. How different are these days in which you live compared to those of half a century now hurried in the past, which we are commemorating. Many of us survivors may say that in those old bygone days we enjoyed a peaceful and quiet life that you in vain may seek. The marvellous inventions of the telegraph and telephone, which almost annihilate time and space, have changed all things. We used to receive news from the mother country sometimes nearly a year old; now you have the news of the world given to you only twelve hours old, in the morning papers. Methinks the race of life has become too keen – we are no longer content to say, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” We aim at discounting the future, we want to live to-morrow before to-morrow comes, and who shall say that we are any the happier? Great indeed are the changes which we old identities have witnessed during the passing away of the last half-century – changes of a kind it is not likely it will ever be your lot to look upon. For we have seen a handful of the Saxon race land upon a savage shore, have seen that shore reclaimed from the wilderness, and slowly advance in civilisation until we have transplanted almost every institution from the mother country to the land of our adoption. Indeed, without vain boast we may
ask, “Where, for a young city of the same population as ours, can be seen what we can show in the advanced civilisation of the day?” Witness our Free Library – no mean building truly – our Elam Free School of Art, our Art Galleries, and the wonderful treasures there deposited; our Museum, this Choral Hall, and other kindred societies…The blind, deaf, and dumb cared for, places of worship of every denomination and last and most significant, and coming to what is more intimately associated with ourselves, look at the palatial structure of the Auckland Savings Bank, a monument of our industrial savings, and where lies half a million of money, the earnings of the working classes, a fruitful store against the proverbial rainy day, proving how generous has been to them their new mother country. And here, close at hand, sits the manager of that institution, the son of a Duchess of Argyle colonist, born in Auckland. We have amongst us here tonight age venerable in the lengthened span of over 90 years. Let some young person – half a century old – just look forward to forty more years of life, and tell us what are the strange feelings such a prospect engenders. I thought I had some claim to be considered somewhat of a venerable personage, but I feel dwarfed into a comparatively juvenile insignificance, and pale before the living record of five generations. Truly, we live in a prolific and marvellous country whose kindly climate enables us to chronicle this night the fact that we can in our own day look upon the living representatives of five generations. You will have seen in this day’s Herald the startling announcement that one lady in the ripeness of her years can count her six children, twenty-six grandchildren, forty-four great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren. Why, one feels lost in a labyrinth of
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generations. After such a record who shall say we cannot hold our own in this direction? I think we may challenge the world. I can see an old friend who lauded from the Duchess of Argyle, and who, like myself, is now in the “sere and yellow leaf” of old age, and I can see his greatgrandchild and many fellow great grandchildren, with young and happy faces, the world all before them – to us it is all in the past. And now that the snow of age has gathered on our heads, we may be well content to take our last long rest when the appointed day now soon at hand – shall come. The departed spirits of our old fellow-workers who have already joined the great majority, are beckoning us from the other side of the great river to follow. Truly all that we have gone through since 1840 appears like a strange dream, but a dream which has the fascination of reality, for have we pilgrim fathers not lived through all the vicissitudes incident to the first settlement of a new colony, watched over its birth and foundation, stood by it during all its early struggles and varying fortunes, and taken our part in developing the resources of the land
of our adoption? And we, whom it has pleased God to spare to this year of grace, are proud to compare our city of today with what it was in October, 1842. We have lived to see the great fern wilderness reclaimed, to have seen the infant settlement unrobe itself of its first primitive garments of brushwood and breakwind huts and tents in which we were dwellers, and outliving its bush mask and wild appearance, enter on the path of progress. And we have our reward, that today we see that infant settlement, grown into a city, proudly advancing along the broadway of civilisation, a city yet destined to be one of the fairest in the world, and to whose shores will be attracted denizens from many and far distant lands. Logan-Campbell’s reflections, in hindsight, illustrate just how far Auckland, and indeed the entire New Zealand nation, had come in just five short decades.
References: 1. The Treaty and Its Times, by Paul Moon
and Peter Biggs, 2004, p47 2. The Herald reports in 1892 that an honour-guard of surviving pioneers from the two ships included: Jane Gifford : – Messrs. J. McLellan, David Russell, Joseph Scott, Wm. Scott, Wishart, W. Oliver, Joseph Craig, W. Miller, Robert Scott, Trevarthen, W. Jamieson, Thomas Wylie, Wilson (Thames). Mesdames McLellan, Scott, Hill, Morrison, Griffiths, Hendry, Somervell, J. Carradus, McClusky, J. Culpan, Carmichael, Pulham, Kennedy, A. Gillan (Thames), Jamieson, Pollok, Caradus, Cooper. Duchess of Argyle – Messrs. Jas Wallace, Robert Laurie, W. L. Thorburn, H. Andrews, H. Gollan, Jas. Robertson, Thos. Finlay. W. Andrews, Ed. Clare, J. A. Wood, Jas. Clare, P. McNair, J. Caradus. Mesdames Donald, Jackson, J. Winks, A. Craig, Bell, T. Wylie, Robert Laurie, Scott, Lamb, Jas. Moore, Cameron, A. Pollock, Wishart, P. Robertson, Hannah, J. McEwin, Robert Lang, W. Hume, McBrierty. 3. Fifty Years Ago, New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIX, Issue 9006, 11 October 1892, Page 6, http://paperspast.natlib. govt.nz/cgi-bin/paperspast?a=d&d= NZH18921011.2.44
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 27
LIFE ON BOARD
ARRIVING IN NEW ZEALAND WAS ONE THING. GETTING HERE IN THE 1800s WAS SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT AGAIN. JOHN MCLEAN RE-LIVES THE VOYAGES AND TRIBULATIONS OF THE PIONEERS IN AN EXTRACT FROM HIS FASCINATING NEW BOOK
A
lthough sharks roamed all the oceans they were more likely to be found off the coast of West Africa, which was why it was not really a good idea to go swimming around your ship in the calms of the Doldrums. They would follow a ship and eat any scraps they could find. Those “scraps” included any dead bodies that were buried at sea. Early in 1853 the Hercules was off West Africa en route from Campbeltown in the Scottish Highlands to Australia when one of her passengers, Ann McLeod, died. Eight sharks were swimming with the
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ship as her body was thrown into the sea and they promptly disappeared with her remains. SINKINGS
Despite the prohibition of smoking and naked lights below decks and allowing the galley fires to burn only between 8 a.m. and 7 p.m. the three masted Cospatrick, built of good Indian teak, caught on fire at quarter to one on the morning of 18th November, 1874. She was in the South Atlantic about 200 miles south-west of the Cape of Good Hope. It is believed that the fire started in the boatswain’s locker, where was kept pitch, tar, turpentine and paraffin oil for
the purpose of servicing the rigging and the hull. The three survivors – all crewmen – were landed at Jamestown on the British island of Saint Helena nine days after being rescued. Of the emigrants who drowned, 247 were English, 109 Irish, 42 Scots, 13 Welsh and 10 Channel Islanders. Apart from the paucity of Scots, this more or less reflects the immigration pattern to New Zealand at that time. Not surprisingly, after news of the Cospatrick reached Britain – and it would not
have done so but for the British Spectre picking up the lifeboat – the number of emigrants to New Zealand dropped sharply but then recovered so that the target of 25,000 for the year 1875 was met. The sinking of HMS Orpheus off the bar of the Manukau harbour on 7th February, 1863, with the loss of 189 British sailors, is regarded as New Zealand’s worst ever shipping disaster. However, if we expand the criteria somewhat to include emigrant vessels bound for our shores, then the Cospatrick would be the
worst. By the twenty-first century the 433 passengers lost as a result of that terrible fire in the South Atlantic would probably have had around 30,000 descendants. That is the real loss from the fire. FOOD
Of course, there was quite a difference between what the cabin passengers were served and what was dished out to the emigrants but, since the former were paying their way and the latter weren’t, that was only to be expected. It was the
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Surgeon who was in charge of the diet and he was expected to make it as healthy as the circumstances would allow. The cabin passengers on the Bengal Merchant were not deprived in any way. In the words of the stout Scot, Alexander Marjoribanks, whom Captain Hemery said thought of little else but his stomach, the nineteen cabin passengers on board “fared sumptuously every day…In fact, it may be said we did little else except eat, drink and sleep during the whole voyage. We had four meals per day and at dinner had always five or six dishes of fresh meat, with a carte blanche of claret and other wines besides a dessert of fruits”. On the Lord Auckland the cabin passengers “have hot joints every day and poultry, with soups and puddings and pies, and as much wine as we like at dinner, and port afterwards, in a gentlemanly way, of course, not to overstep the bounds of prudence.” On Sunday, 31st October, 1841, six weeks into the voyage, they had preserved salmon, soup, a roast goose, a saddle of mutton, a couple of fowls with curry and a Westphalia ham, plum pudding and apple tarts, cheese, bottled porter, champagne and sherry with dessert consisting of apples, nuts, almonds and raisins. The Caduceus, bound for Auckland with emigrants, left Gravesend on 1st December, 1864. They were not long into the voyage when the live pigs on board died from lack of care. And, instead of the expected seven tons of potatoes, they could find only 33 hundredweight. The captain was
a skinflint and watched every piece that people put in their mouths. In the words of one of the cabin passengers, Rev. E.S. Brookes, “An old ham bone was brought on twice for breakfast, which was an insult to nineteen [cabin] passengers. There was only a little dried meat on it, and the bone was thoroughly bare.” Then the captain ordered that the bone be split so that it could make do for two days pea soup. When the Prince Edward put in to Simons Bay at the Cape on 17th February, 1859, the ship’s doctor, A. H. Boswell, wrote to his wife back on Prince Edward Island, “I assure you I have been, with the rest, nearly starved….only salt pork and beef…. no potatoes. The preserved meal was putrid and was obliged to be thrown overboard.” WATER
The greatest inconvenience was, in fact, the shortage of fresh water. However, on some of the better ships there was a distilling plant. On the Chrysolite, which made voyages to Lyttelton in 1861 and 1863, there was a large Normandy fresh water distilling apparatus which could produce 500 gallons of fresh water from the sea every 24 hours. The salt water was pumped up through a pipe leading from the bow. It then entered the boiler and passed in the form of steam into the condenser where it became liquid. Then, after flowing through a filter, it was received into the tank below. In the words of a reporter from Wellington’s Independent newspaper, who tasted it in 1863, “it was “pure, limpid and devoid
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of the slightest disagreeable flavour. On the Cospatrick there was a Graveley coal fuelled distilling plant that could produce up to 23 gallons of fresh water per hour from the sea. LIVING CONDITIONS
For some the discomfort was worse than what they expected while for others it was better. “There has been no comfort, the bed and bedclothes are all wet and so are all our clothes. We cannot even sit easily for we are liable to be pitched across the cabin without a moment’s notice,” wrote Margaret Peace as the Clara was ploughing her way through the southern ocean beneath Australia – the part of the journey that was most likely to test one’s patience and spirits. In the same ocean Marianne Manchester on the Excelsior wrote, “It is so cold and the sea is awful. Weary I am of this life.” It was often enough to put them off sea voyages for ever more. “I have met with so much kindness and good will and really, taking things as a whole, we have been very happy. Yet that dreaded seasickness and the discomforts which unavoidably attend a sea voyage I think will cure me forever thinking of returning to the old country. Yet I’m sure my heart will yearn over my native land and the friends I have left there,” wrote Elizabeth Sangster on the Oamaru in 1878. And Charlotte Couchman on the Arethusa a year later, “You may depend, if ever I get safe on land again, I shall not venture on the sea to return to England.” Mind you, she had just been through a storm of which she wrote, “We can hardly lie in our beds and are obliged to hang on by the woodwork. The ship rolls fearfully. The tins and pannikins and pails are rolling all over the
place and the sea comes over the deck and down upon us dreadfully.” BIRTHS, DEATHS…
In the mid nineteenth century babies born at sea on British ships were regarded as having been born in the London parish of Stepney and it was incumbent for parents to register the birth in that parish. However, registering the birth upon arrival in New Zealand or in any other British territory such as the Cape of Good Hope was deemed sufficient. There were many births on board as the young Victorian wife seemed to be forever pregnant – large families, a high infant mortality rate and the prevalence of young married couples on the emigrant ships. The older one was, the less likely to face the physical hardships of emigration to a distant and untamed land. In view of the risks to the health of young children on board a cramped and smelly vessel, if the births outnumbered the deaths of infants, then it was doing very well indeed. On 21st October, 1879, twin girls were born on the Arethusa. In the words of Charlotte Couchman, “They are so small – like dolls”. Sadly they lived for only a week before they died and were sewn into a single canvas bag and were buried at sea together – just as they had been in their mother’s womb. Two children born on the Lady Nugent in 1841 died within about a week. One of them was born to Mrs. Bevan who herself died a few days later “and joined her baby in the deep”. It would be no exaggeration to say that from the English Channel to New Zealand the seabed was littered with the bodies of aspiring emigrants and, sad to say, most of
IT WOULD BE NO EXAGGERATION TO SAY THAT FROM THE ENGLISH CHANNEL TO NEW ZEALAND THE SEABED WAS LITTERED WITH THE BODIES OF ASPIRING EMIGRANTS AND, SAD TO SAY, MOST OF THEM WERE YOUNG CHILDREN
them were young children. In the words of James Caygill on the Amoor to Lyttelton in 1864, “Another birth on board but this time the little stranger did not stay long with us: Its minutes on board, sweet child, were few They pass’d away like morning dew. To get some idea of the heartache from losing a child on board and seeing the little bundle, sewn tightly in canvas or sailcloth and weighted with iron or a bag of sand or even a cannon, thrown over the side – possibly for the sharks to eat – we need only look at what Jessie Campbell wrote on the Blenheim after her little girl, Isabel (known as Tibbie), died on 23rd October, 1840, in the middle of the Atlantic. “My dear little lamb lingered in the same state all night. She expired this morning at eight o’clock. She resigned her breath quietly as if she were going to sleep without the slightest struggle. What would I give to be on shore with her dear little body. The idea of committing it to the deep distresses me very much. She has made a happy change from the cares and miseries of this world. “It is hard to say what misfortunes may await us from which she has escaped. The doctors do not seem to understand what her complaint was. Both agreed it had been brought about by teething.” Dead bodies were not kept very long on board and at midday – four hours after she died, “My little darling’s body has just been committed to the deep.” …& MARRIAGES
Accommodation between decks for steerage passengers. /Illustrated London News, 17th August, 1850.
There were no more horrible quarrels than those between husbands and wives. Many of the emigrants in steerage were from the working class that had to work six days a week in the mill towns with no holidays other than a few days off at Christmas and Easter. The four months or so that they spent in close quarters on
an emigrant ship would have been the first time in their married life that they had had such a long time in each other’s company. And it didn’t always work. On the William Bryan to New Plymouth there was a wife beater on board. He was attacked by some of the men passengers and the surgeon, Henry Weeks, went down to investigate the noise. In Weeks’ words, “‘He’s been beating his wife, sir,’ was the universal cry. As soon as he was released and order restored with a caution not to take the law again into their own hands, I found that his wife had brought the thrashing on herself by working him up to a pitch of exasperation with her never ceasing tongue.” The wife was obviously better protected by the vigilantes than by the Surgeon, whose job was to protect the passengers from violence. The William Miles (1863 to Auckland) also had a wife beater on board – “a brute of a fellow” according to the diary of a fellow passenger, Edmund Archer. The other passengers, for the most part good, churchgoing Non-Conformists, decided to take action. Some of the men, dressed in disguise and armed with brooms and mops, advanced on him in his bed, calling out “wife beater, wife beater!” They hit him on the head in a way “that he would take some time to get over”. During the voyage on the Clifford Mr. Ratt (junior) and his wife petitioned the surgeon to have separate beds. The surgeon granted their wish “in consequence of their scandalous conduct”. Whether their conduct had been “scandalous” because of too much loving or too much fighting we are not told but the use of such a word at that particular time suggests the former. Extracted from Voyages of the Pioneers to New Zealand: 1839–85 by John McLean. Copies available from Winter Productions, P.O. Box 22 143, Khandallah, Welington. E-mail: trosspub@gmail.com
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 31
GADGETS
Epson WorkForce WF-100
Parrot Zik Sport
www.epson.co.nz
www.parrot.com
The Epson WorkForce WF-100 is the world’s smallest and lightest mobile printer. Designed for professionals on-the-go, the WorkForce WF-100 includes built-in wireless connectivity, Wi-Fi Direct and an integrated rechargeable battery, for printing from nearly anywhere. The WorkForce WF-100 allows users to easily print from a range of devices, including tablets, smartphones and laptops. The sleek design portable color inkjet printer includes Wi-Fi Direct for printing without a router, and a built-in battery that charges via USB or the included AC adapter. The WF-100 also features an automatic power-off feature to save battery life.
Parrot Zik Sport is the most advanced wireless sport headphones with premium audio features, comfortable and trendy design dedicated to sport, and an application to customize your experience. For Parrot Zik Sport, engineers have collaborated with the French designer Philippe Starck to provide the best of audio and innovation in comfortable and trendy new earphones. Brand new Street Mode allows capturing sounds around and playing them directly to user’s ear. Hence help runners to stay safe when practicing jogging especially in busy streets.
Sony Walkman ZX2
The NW-ZX2 is an exercise in quality. Enjoy High-Resolution Audio to its fullest, optimised through S-Master HX technology. Even compressed audio files are upscaled closer to High-Resolution Audio with DSEE HX for a rich studio sound. And with over 33 hours’ playback, you can keep the music coming anywhere you go. In addition to playing studio-quality High-Resolution Audio, the NW-ZX2 Walkman also improves the sound of all your existing music. DSEE HX restores lost detail to MP3s and other compressed music files, giving you back the full experience of the original recording, whether you listen to Dvorak or electronic music. The high quality 4.0” screen is touchsensitive so you can access functions simply by touching the icon. It’s so intuitive you already know how to use it.
www.sony.com
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LaCie Mirror
LaCie has unveiled the LaCie Mirror portable hard drive wholly encased in scratch resistant Corning Gorilla Glass. This unique device is at once both a functional 1TB hard drive and a striking piece of decor. When the LaCie Mirror hard drive is connected to a computer, the luxurious display stand showcases the exquisite design of the product. Hewn from Makassar ebony wood, a richly colored, exceptionally dense wood, every display stand is unique. There are no two pieces that are alike.
www.lacie.com
MALL
Reebok ZPump Fusion
Dolce&Gabbana Intenso
www.reebok.com
www.dolcegabbana.com
Unlike a traditional running shoe which is often made up of over 40 individual parts, the Reebok ZPump Fusion is made up of just three key parts, meaning no rigid components that restrict movement in the foot. Each of the three parts in the ZPump Fusion works together to deliver improved fit and control. When The Pump actuator on the heel of the ZPump Fusion is pushed, air is channeled through the valve and into the air-filled cage enabling it to fill and clasp around the upper and heel in a way that is unique to each foot. To release the air, runners can simply deflate using the release valve.
Dolce&Gabbana Intenso is pure instinct, the power of an emotion that is freely expressed. It is the force of a determined man, with a heart that is rooted in tradition, yet revels in the modern world. Dolce&Gabbana Intenso is a woody aromatic fragrance, whose profound appeal is defined by a brand new discovery in the olfactory world: the Moepel accord which has been re-created from the flowers and leaves of the Milkwood tree using Headspace technology.
Sony SmartWatch 3 Brooks Islington
The Islington Rucksack features innovative shoulder straps, which can be easily adjusted to stabilize the bag whilst riding. This can be achieved by either crossing both straps diagonally over the chest, or alternatively securing one of the straps laterally around the waist. Made in Italy of water resistant cotton fabric and vegetable tanned leather from Europe.
www.brooksengland.com
Even without your smartphone, SmartWatch 3 is a fun and useful accessory. You can fill it with music to take with you if you’re going for a run. When you’re out, you can track your activity and movements as well as sync with your Lifelog when you come home. Designed to perform and impress, the SmartWatch delivers a groundbreaking combination of technology and style. Downloadable apps let you customise your SmartWatch 3 and how you use it.
www.sonymobile.com
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 33
TECH
By Troy Wolverton
A sweet update
T
raditionally, the best word to describe Google’s Android operating system has been “utilitarian.” The engineers behind the world’s leading mobile platform have long emphasized features over aesthetics. But that may be starting to change. In its latest version, dubbed Lollipop, which has just started to roll out to older phones and tablets, the look and feel of Android and its primary apps get a major overhaul. Google calls the new look in Android 5.0 “Material Design.” It’s marked by brighter colors, a “flatter” but layered look to applications and icons, and greater emphasis on clear and legible text. The new design borrows ideas from the flat look that Apple introduced to its mobile operating system in iOS 7 and the
interface Microsoft designed for its Windows Phone software. Android remains distinct from both, but it now appears to be in the same family. For example, when you turn on Lollipop’s new “battery saver” mode, the notification bar at the top of the screen and the taskbar at bottom turn a bright orange. The look is reminiscent of how the notification bar turns green in iOS when you are on a call or blue when you turn on its personal hotspot feature. Similarly, many of the Googledesigned apps in Lollipop have a unique color in their menu bars that serves to distinguish them from other apps. While Gmail’s accent color is red, the one for the contacts app is blue. The net result is an operating system that feels less like something designed
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by engineers for engineers and more like something that is lively, fun and accessible to non-techies. Google made some other design changes in Lollipop. One is to how Android displays open applications when you want to switch between them. In previous versions, when you pressed the “overview” button to see which applications you had running, Android would display a vertical list of thumbnail images of those programs. With Lollipop, Android displays them like a carousel, with the app windows stacked one on top of another. I prefer the new look, because it allows you to see more of the open apps at once. Google has also revamped the quick settings feature in Android. It’s still available in the notifications area, but it’s now
accessible by swiping down twice from the top of the screen. It also includes some new settings, such as the ability to turn on a smartphone’s hotspot feature or to turn on a device’s flash to use it as a flashlight. To be sure, Google did more in Lollipop than revamp Android’s look. The updated software also includes lots of new features. Among them are a greater amount of options and controls for notifications. Android users can now respond to alerts that display on their lock screen. They can turn on a privacy feature that allows notifications to be displayed on the lock screen, but blocks their content, such as the actual message in a text message. And they can turn on a mode that will only display alerts from particular people and apps. One of the cool new features of Android is that it gives users more options in how to share their devices with others. Android tablets have been able to support multiple user accounts for a while now. With Lollipop, Android smartphones gain the same ability, allowing consumers to access their own contacts and other data on a friend or family member’s phone. Lollipop also allows users to create guest accounts on both smartphones and tablets that can access any apps, but none of the personal data on them. Of note for parents, the new software has a related feature that allows users to “pin” a particular app to the screen so that a child, say, can’t use any other apps or see anything else on the device. That might be helpful if your kid wants to play a game on your phone, but you don’t want them to see your email or reconfigure your home screen. These types of features – support for multiple users and the ability to easily restrict access to younger users – are ones that I’ve long wished Apple would build into iOS. Google has also enhanced the security in Android. In Lollipop, encryption is turned on by default; previously, it was hard to know that you could use it to protect your data, because to turn it on, you had to find it deep within the system’s settings. While Android’s ability for apps to work together fairly seamlessly was a selling point over iOS until
recently, it’s also been a vulnerability, potentially allowing malware to gain access to important functions on the device. In Lollipop, Google limits the access particular programs have to the underlying functions; your apps should still be able to work together, but they should pose a lot less of a threat to the functioning of your phone. As with any new version of Android, the big questions for users are when they will be able to get the new software and the degree to which phone manufacturers will customize it. Although Lollipop has started to become available to certain
Android devices, there are lots that still can’t get it. When I tried several days ago to download it to two Android smartphones I’ve been testing – Samsung’s Galaxy Note Edge and Sharp’s Aquos Crystal – it wasn’t available. Meanwhile, few electronics manufacturers offer an unadulterated Android experience. Unless you have one of Google’s Nexus devices, you may not see many of the cool new interface features in Lollipop. Overall, Lollipop is a sweet new update. With both good looks and cool features, it’s well worth downloading if you can get it.
What: Android 5.0 Lollipop operating system update Likes: New, more colorful look and feel; new support for multiple users on smartphones and guest users on both smartphones and tablets; ability to lock device on one particular application; default encryption of user data. Dislikes: Ability to download update varies by device and manufacturer; likewise, support for particular features will likely vary from device to device. Price: Free Web: www.android.com
Apr/May 2015 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM 35
ONLINE
By Steve Johnson
Internet of Things
W
ith smart gadgets already flooding the market and thousands more expected in coming years, the Internet of Things is emerging amid a regulatory wilderness. The breakneck pace of this technology has far outpaced the legal system’s ability to keep up with it, many experts contend. Because of legal loopholes, consumers often lack any right to control how long their data is kept, who it is shared with and what is collected about them, including such personal information as their finances, mental health, political leanings and sexual orientation. And while ideas differ on what should be done about that, there is widespread agreement that it will be crucial to make sure the intimate details these devices gather on everyone won’t be strewed willy-nilly across the Web. “I grew up reading Huxley and Orwell, and I believe we all need to be sensitive to the possibility this could go very wrong,” said Bryan Goff, a lawyer who has studied the legal issues surrounding the Internet of Things. While believing its innovations will provide innumerable benefits, he added, “this is a situation where change is going to happen – there is no stopping it. Now it’s a question of doing what we can to steer that change to the best outcome possible.” Some people are wary of government mandating new rules for smart devices. That includes Roger Atkinson, president of the nonprofit Information Technology and Innovation Foundation, which is partly financed by businesses, including Google and Cisco Systems. Because he believes gadget makers “have a lot of incentive to have a trusted
relationship with the consumer,” he favors letting the industry regulate itself, adding that “it’s way, way too early” to be passing new laws for the Internet of Things. “Let’s let it roll out a tad and keep track if anyone is abusing it.” Indeed, many people already using such devices are perfectly happy with them, such as 81-year-old Bill Dworsky and his wife, Dorothy, 79. Their San Francisco home is outfitted with sensors made by Lively, which notify their son when they open their pill boxes or refrigerator door, for example, to indicate whether they are taking their medications and eating regularly. “I think it’s great we have this,” said Dorothy Dworsky, noting that she and her husband are getting forgetful. Her son, Phil Dworsky, director of strategic alliances at Mountain View software firm Synopsys, added that he feels confident Lively won’t misuse the information it gathers on his parents. That’s because Lively voluntarily offers a privacy policy that promises to get users’ consent before sharing their data with anyone and only after the information has been stripped of personally identifiable details, which he said is “important and reasonable to me.” But consumer advocates contend companies can’t always be trusted to act in the public’s interest. Besides favoring limits on how much data the gadgets sweep up and retain, they want users of the devices to control what’s collected about them, who else can see it and when it should be deleted. These critics are particularly skeptical of corporate privacy policies, which instead of restricting the use of consumer data are often
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“written by lawyers to be as permissive as possible,” said Ryan Calo, a University of Washington assistant law professor and expert on emerging technologies. The primary regulatory body monitoring smart gadgets is the Federal Trade Commission. Jessica Rich, who heads the FTC’s consumer protection bureau, said policing new data-gathering technologies “is my No. 1 priority.” Nonetheless, the FTC concluded in a January report that passing new laws to specifically govern the Internet of Things “would be premature,” since the technology is still evolving. And the agency’s clout is limited. Because of its relative lack of punch, smart-device makers “don’t even think about” the FTC, said Justin Brookman of the Center for Democracy and Technology. Moreover, although the agency has asked federal lawmakers to bolster its power to police data-related violations, that prospect remains uncertain in Congress. As a result, some experts say, regulating the Internet of Things could fall to such states as California. In 2002, California became the first state to require companies and others hit by data breaches to notify residents if their personal information might have been disclosed. Last year it enacted a law restricting rented electronic devices from gathering personal consumer data after an FTC investigation discovered some rental computers were secretly spying on the computers’ users. Besides surreptitiously harvesting the users’ credit card information, Social Security numbers, medical records and private emails to doctors, the computers’ webcams took pictures
inside the users’ homes, including images of them “engaged in intimate contact.” Another California law that took effect in 2014 restricts disclosure of information about customer electrical or natural gas usage from smart utilities. Moreover, California is one of a handful of states that require car owners to be told if their vehicle contains an “event data recorder,” which maintains a detailed dossier on their driving behavior. But consumer advocates contend these and other California laws – like those at the federal level – only partially address privacy worries surrounding the Internet of Things. Critics also have cited numerous weaknesses in California’s pioneering “shine the light” law enacted in 2003, which requires companies with 20 or more employees to inform consumers how their personal data is sold for direct marketing purposes or else let them opt out of having it shared. Studies by the University of California, Berkeley, the American Civil Liberties
IN 2002, CALIFORNIA BECAME THE FIRST STATE TO REQUIRE COMPANIES HIT BY DATA BREACHES TO NOTIFY RESIDENTS IF THEIR PERSONAL INFORMATION MIGHT HAVE BEEN DISCLOSED
Union and others have found that companies covered by the law often don’t properly notify consumers of their rights and ignore inquiries about their data gathering. Moreover, its provisions are confusingly vague. While requiring companies to disclose when they share personal information with “third parties,” for example, it defines those parties so narrowly that many firms have been passing the data along to business partners and others without notifying consumers, the studies concluded.
As a result, privacy advocates say it will be critical to amend these laws or enact new ones to ensure that the Internet of Things won’t cause more headaches than help. Neil Richards, a law professor at Washington University in St. Louis, believes lawmakers eventually will do more to protect the personal data captured by the growing array of smart gadgets. But he cautioned that “the scope of that protection and how long it takes to get there is absolutely up for grabs.”
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SCIENCE
By Edward Ortiz
Baby horse behavior triggers new autism research
O
n a thoroughbred ranch in California, a 3-week-old foal gallops close to its mother. Their bond seems natural, but it didn’t start out that way. When the foal was born, it completely ignored its mother and refused to nurse. University of California veterinary specialist John Madigan intervened moments after the birth with a novel treatment he calls “the squeeze.” It’s attracting attention from researchers studying autism in children, who see a possible parallel between Madigan’s work with horses and a similar technique – called kangaroo care – that’s often used on pre-term infants. “The phenomenon that Madigan has observed in foals is interesting and dramatic,” said David Stevenson, professor of pediatrics at Stanford University. Over the past five years, a dozen foals at Victory Rose Thoroughbreds have been born with neonatal maladjustment syndrome, or NMS, in which they are emotionally detached from their mothers. In each case, horse farm owner Ellen Jackson called Madigan, a veterinary professor and specialist in equine and comparative neurology. First identified in the 1950s, neonatal maladjustment syndrome affects roughly 5 per cent of newborn horses. “When these horses are born, they will walk to a corner and just stand there,” said Jackson, who has owned her farm for 25 years. To counteract the condition, Madigan ties a soft rope harness around the foal’s body and gently squeezes it to increase pressure. The squeeze causes the foal to
drop over and go to sleep. After several minutes, the pressure is released and the foal awakens. Madigan said that in all cases where he has intervened with a foal with NMS, the foal has shed its detached behavior and run to its mother to interact and feed. “We’ve had a dramatic improvement in 12 foals,” he said. The squeeze technique is part of body of research that Madigan and others are pursuing to see if there’s a connection between high levels of neurosteroids in the blood and the later development of autism. Madigan said the foals born with NMS he has studied had high levels of neurosteroids in their blood, whereas foals that readily interacted with their mothers had normal neurosteroid levels. Neurosteroids are brain steroids that can cross the blood-brain barrier and dampen the central nervous system. Further study into their effect at certain birth stages may offer a clue as to why some infants later develop detached behavior or symptoms associated with Autism Spectral Disorder, or ASD, said Madigan. “The behavioral abnormalities in these foals seem to resemble some of the symptoms in children with autism,” Madigan said. Madigan said he believes that neurosteroids are a crucial factor in a horse making a successful transition from birth to consciousness. He was the lead researcher on a 2011 study in which healthy foals given neurosteroids began displaying a lack of affinity for their mothers and a decreased response to stimuli. High neurosteroid levels in the womb
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protect the mother by keeping babies asleep and lessening physical activity – like galloping – that could hurt her. The research may offer a valuable clue to what may lead to the development of autism in human infants – particularly pre-term infants and caesarean birth babies, and those that spend a very short time in the birth canal. Madigan said he believes that if a foal passes too rapidly through the birth canal or is delivered via caesarean section, it loses the pressure on its body that signals the body to drop neurosteroid levels. He sees a potential parallel in human infants. Three studies conducted in the past two
years suggest that pre-term babies are at higher risk for developing autism. One Finnish study, published in the Journal of Pediatrics in 2012, found that babies weighing less than 3 pounds were three times as likely to develop ASD compared to normal-weight babies. As in horses, neurosteroids are also emerging as a potential culprit in human autism. A 2013 study by Polish scientists found that autistic children tested at ages 3 and 9 had significantly higher salivary concentrations of a group of steroid hormones than control children. The success of Madigan’s squeeze technique has prompted him and other
PIONEERED IN BOGOTA, COLOMBIA, IN THE LATE 1970S, KANGAROO CARE HAS BECOME A WIDELY USED TREATMENT FOR PRE-TERM BABIES IN NEONATAL UNITS IN THE UNITED STATES
researchers to begin studying whether kangaroo care, a common treatment to improve the health of premature infants, could also help prevent disorders on the autism spectrum. Pioneered in Bogota, Colombia, in the late 1970s, kangaroo care has become a widely used treatment for pre-term babies in neonatal units in the United States. A parent or caregiver places a mostly naked baby on their chest, skin to skin, and holds them
there, sometimes for hours. The baby is secured to the caregiver with a stretchy cloth band. Stanford University’s Stevenson has joined Madigan in applying to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation for a $100,000 grant to fund combined veterinary and human research on kangaroo care and neurosteroids. The question is whether infants who receive kangaroo care will experience a drop in steroid levels.
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BOOKCASE
By Michael Morrissey
A Bright Apple Beckons
THE CRITIC’S PART: Art Writings 1971-2012
By Wystan Curnow (curated by Christina Barton and Robert Leonard with Thomasin Sleigh) Victoria University Press, $80.00
Every few months Wystan Curnow and I meet for a two hour coffee session in Chancery Lane. Curnow’s conversational style is what I call existential. He seems to re-evaluate his opinions at the very moment of utterance while sipping the alert-making coffee. Nothing is merely regurgitated or fished up from the stagnant pool of past opinion. This analytic freshness, this immediacy, this measured existentialism, radiates strongly from this intellectually honest collection of essays covering some 40 years. Curnow writes
exquisitely good prose and regardless of the subject matter, or the possibility that one might disagree with some of his views, it is easy to be persuaded by the elegance, precision and adventure of the style. Why did we have to wait so long for this collection? If my memory is correct, Wystan told me some years that when he had approached a well known university publisher, he was told that publication of his numerous critical essays and critiques was not possible. Really? (And, I get told more or less the same thing!). Let us offer congratulations to Victoria University Press for having the courage to do the “impossible”. We – the artists, art critics, art patrons, art watchers – are the richer for this overdue event. The book is handsome and bulkily authoritative but suffers from having no colour in the illustrations except a wan black and white. Was colour an “impossibility”? Plus page numbers are printed sideways on the sides of pages, an impractically daft idea at best. Curnow has selected three major artists to centralise his canon. (I choose this unfavourable term for purposes of ideological provocation). The golden trio are the deceased Len Lye and Colin McCahon, and the very much alive Billy Apple. Billy has a relatively narrow artistic focus but an intensity of gaze that brings him close to the edge of greatness – a word neither he nor Wystan would be comfortable with – a “greatness” of a postmodern kind where nothing political or ideological is at stake. Billy’s work is intelligent, witty and sublimely cool with the exception of his “removal “ directives issued in
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the mid to late 70s to gallery owners to alter aspects of their own gallery space. Like many of my generation, I did the whole nine yards at the RKS gallery when it was virtually the only show in town. (John Leech and Barry Lett hovered in the wings.) As a writer, I found the company of artists ie mainly painters plus a few sculptors – in some cases, their drinking company – curiously more vital than the company of writers I ought perhaps to have cultivated more. Admittedly, my knowledge is very Auckland-oriented but then at the times that Curnow surveys, most of the action as (say) regards conceptual art was more prominent here than in other cities. I recall Bill Sutton, that well known Christchurch painter, saying to me in 1979 when I was Writer-in-Residence at the University of Canterbury that Christchurch was “somewhere” but Auckland was “nowhere”. In other words, the larger city aped an international style but Christchurch had its more individual voice – the prominent “The Group” was probably the working proof of Bill’s remark. The Group was founded in 1927 by some disillusioned young artists from Ilam but wound up including Olivia Spencer-Bower, Leo Benseman, Doris Lusk, Bill Sutton, Quentin Macfarlane, Trevor Moffit and (significantly) Colin McCahon and “regionalist co-conspirators” Rita Angus and Toss Woollaston. Bill Sutton’s perspective might have more accurate in the 1930s than in more recent times when Auckland came to dominate the country’s art scene with its over 60 galleries and new ones opening seemingly every week. How do they all make their way is surely a question to be
pondered albeit with admiring wonder. From a Curnovian point of view, this Auckland dominance especially in his areas of interest – pop art, conceptual art, post-object art – became more significant in the 1970s, and has arguably maintained that hegemony ever since. Looking at Auckland’s art dominance, it pays to remember it’s not a fair fight – New Zealand along with Argentina, are the only two countries in the world where the main city holds a third of the population of the entire country. If New York had the same disproportionate fraction of the whole of the USA, I population would be 80 million instead of a mere 20. Let’s get to McCahon, by agreed repute, our leading modernist artist giant. I met McCahon a few times and was struck by his concave cheeks, haunted features, quiet integrity and brooding intelligence. I saw my first exhibition of McCahon’s work at Don Wood’s Ikon gallery around 1960 – probably the Northland panels. I didn’t like them but at that stage I hadn’t seen much contemporary art – this may have been my first exposure. I was just 18 and ignorant of art. Perhaps I could have seen a lot more of McCahon in person because he used to regularly attend parties just two doors away from our Mt Roskill South state house at Kerry “Kase” Jackson’s residence, together with Peter Tomory, a former director of the Auckland Art Gallery. By all accounts, a lot of serious drinking went on. Jackson and McCahon paid the price: death. One rumor has it McCahon did not die of normal dementia but the alcohol-caused dementia known as Korsakoff’s Syndrome. Tomory lived to be 86: maybe he drank less. I was too young to be invited to the Jackson-McCahon-Tomory parties, being only 12 at the time. When Jackson, who had been a respected local painter deploying cubist techniques took up painting on black velvet in Charles McPhee style “to pay the grocery bills”, McCahon dropped their friendship like a cold potato. It was righteously mean but it indicated McCahon’s rigorous artistic integrity. Some years later, I ran into McCahon giving a lecture to a small class at Elam. The sunken cheeks and haunted eyes were impossible to forget. This was a man recovering, not quite perhaps, from a dedicated alcoholism which in the end
rendered him helpless – and dead. At this lecture, he said something which expressed the resolute depth and historical perspective of his seriousness in seeking to achieve an individual “voice”. In sepulchral tones what he remarked was, “The big challenge for twentieth century art was what to do after Cezanne.” Obviously cubism was one answer – it fulfilled the proto-Cubism discernible in Cezanne’s work. And many other movements have smuggled their way into the spectrum of artistic history by bouncing off those cubes – or colouring them in.(joke). Long before his death in 1987, McCahon was spoken of as the New Zealand artist. Posthumously, he has become veritably Saint Colin, a man whose importance is taken as a given. Curnow devotes four essays to McCahon and the central two –“ I Will Need Words: Colin McCahon’s Word and Number Paintings” and “Colin McCahon: The Shining Cuckoo” are outstanding examples of his intellectual penetration of visual symbols and his beguilingly lucid style. These are intelligent dissections of the symbolism of the numbers and I was pleased to learn that words in McCahon’s work can be traced back through to “his interest in Italian primitives, the Sienese quattrocenro painter and Fra Angelico in particular”. Wystan at his most learned. In the second essay, Curnow effectively draws on the analyses of French philosopher and literary theorist Jean-Francoise Lyotard. Curnow notes that McCahon’s influence also looms large in Australia, in particular, in the work of Imants Tillers. But for all this widespread critical informed praise, my mind seems to resist the claims made for McCahon. Curnow’s impressively informed essays, dripping with references, while flawlessly argued, do not, in my view, locate sufficient artistic objective correlative in McCahon’s work to sustain their ingenious and always pertinent assertions. Briefly emulated by McCahon, Barnett Newman’s cold geometric abstractions lack visual stimulus: art as an exercise in chilly geometric reductionism. Give me the ferocious molecular energy of Jackson Pollock any day: there I’ve said it. I have mouthed a heresy with only the lonely eccentric voice of Garth Cartwright to back me up. Cartwright liked
Tony Fomison’s work more than McCahon’s and so do I – it has more satirical bite, mythic resonance and spiritual clout. It doesn’t help my case that I used to get drunk with Fomison (rather than with the burnt out McCahon) and ache with laughter at Tony’s endless wit. My friend, Harry the Dead Poet, aka Harry Cording, a burgeoning painter, not without talent, also has sardonic views on McCahon’s works and has created parodies of them. The tip of a well nigh invisible iceberg of McCahon dissenters? In other words, I am a veritable philistine who can’t seem to see McCahon’s work as worthy of the adulation it has received. Aligned against me (and Cartwright) are a small army of dedicated McCahon devotees – important critics, curators, historians and scholars like Gordon Brown, Hamish Keith, Ron Brownson, Luit Bieringa, Laurence Simmons, Peter Simpson, Francis Pound and of course Wystan Curnow. Against such impressive odds, my views may seem willfully perverse, even desperate. So be it. It gets worse – I predict that in .the long haul, Rita Angus’s fierce lyricism, hallucinogenically clear colour, blazing energy and skill at the geometry of the canvas – verging on a refined ur-cubism – will overtake McCahon, our dominant maestro of claustrophobic gloom and brood. Angus will become our leading painter, our hope for international recognition. In part thanks to a large perspective at – you’ve guessed – Auckland Art Gallery, Angus has already displaced the late Toss Wollaston – significantly a big influence on McCahon – as number two in the local pecking order. That only leaves McCahon for her to surpass. And I am sure she will do it. McCahon experts – plenty of those as we have just noted – and very learned too – tend to regard my preferring Angus over McCahon with a certain condescending amusement. But watch this space. My guess is Angus’s work should appeal more to women, so I guess I’m expressing my long suppressed feminine side. 2 Billy Apple, rightly considered our leading conceptual artist, as well as in earlier times, a pop artist, has earned himself well deserved world recognition. The
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massive recent retrospective, formally entitled Billy Apple: The Artist Has To Live Like Everybody Else (the title was coauthored by Billy and Wystan in 1985) and curated by Adam Art Gallery director Christina Barton, has consolidated that position. Innumerable starving artists in garrets (Van Gogh springs to mind) would endorse the sentiment, but I have a hunch Billy’s doing alright. Those flashy sports cars he owns but does not drive can’t be all that cheap. And he was definitely living when I last saw him – which wasn’t long ago. A short 1992 documentary entitled “There’s no business like art business” is the title of a filmed interview which reiterates a familiar truth – the ideas come from Billy; other people do the physical work involved. Over a coffee at the Auckland City Art Gallery, curator Barton explained some of the intricacies of how the organization of the retrospective Apple exhibition works: “Billy Apple had a team to assist him – graphic designer (Robert Thornton); sign-writer (Terry Maitland); copywriter (Wystan Curnow); framer (John Leech Ltd); printer (omnigraphics) etc etc” This is not a complete list. Members of the Apple team may be paid or recruited by barter. It must be stressed that all the concepts and underlying ideas form in Billy’s mind. If my experience with working with Billy is any yardstick, these ideas come to him rapidly and arrive fully formed. Billy knows what the initiating idea demands and what should be done to bring about its full materialization. Arguably, this team cohesion is a far more significant aspect to the Apple canon than the fact he has turned himself into brand which could be viewed as a species of business–oriented ontological prestidigitation rather than the important metamorphosis of identity it has been widely claimed to be. But why not reinvent or redefine yourself – or in Billy’s case, rebrand yourself? No one else will it for you. I was once at a dinner party when a man described Billy’s mind as being like a steel trap. That’s a very accurate description for a man whose ideas may initially appear simple but which turn out to have an unusual depth of thought behind them once the full implication of the original idea become clear. I have
had personal experience of this having invited Billy over lunch to give me a concept for my 66th birthday party. It cost me $12. 90 for the lunch. For some reason, I had in mind a large pulsing apple made of red-painted PVC with tons of -helium inside it tethered by stakes to the ground standing in an open field. At a signal – Billy or rather one of his assistants – would sever the ropes, and his helium-expanded brand name -would soar into the ionosphere … “How many trees do you have?” Billy asked as soon as we had arrived at the sprawling two-acre rented property. “More than 66?” “Yes – probably,” I replied. In fact, there were hundreds. Before long, as per Billy’s directive, I was attaching golden section rectangles of orange PVC plastic to selected trees with special rustproof nails, the said rectangles requested to be installed at eye level with numbers written on them – one number for each of my advancing years. I did as directed. I have to say it was a lot of fun, never more so than when I disobeyed Billy’s instructions and nailed one of his PVC rectangles to a rotting tree stump, not at eye level as instructed, but a mere 18 inches from ground level, only to discover it was a wasp’s nest. Like angry Messerschmitts, the wasps came out with one target in mind – me. This was clearly the unanticipated penalty of not following Billy’s directives. The installation reached a new phase of excitement when some 54 of the numbers were stolen, probably by children. Billy suggested I write an account of each of the remaining 12 numbers treating each one as a year in my life…Voila! An enhanced flow-on effect from Billy’s original suggestion. Steel trap? Definitely. The story of the installation was written up by myself in detail in literary magazine Brief 42 edited by Bill Direen. In his first essay on Billy Apple – one of four – Curnow reminds us that in the mid 70s when Billy’s work was first being exhibited in New Zealand, a lot of the press and public reaction was hostile. Ten years earlier, Apple had already become friends with the influential David Hockney at the Royal College of Art and later collaborated with the super famous Andy Warhol (and ate his mother’s extremely tasty scones!). There should have been no strict neces-
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sity to establish street cred in his home country when he had worked in New York with the world’s most famous pop artist. If there remain any querulous objections to Apple’s work today, they have become virtually invisible and inaudible. The public has bitten Billy’s pop-ironic bullet and is still breathing vigorously while being ever increasingly interested in matters more readily identified as political, thereby leaving art, whether controversial or not, to make its own way in the spectrum of city life. In “Billy Apple in New Zealand”, Curnow takes the opportunity to give a good telling off to the Herald critic T.J McNamara for getting it wrong when Billy made one of his (dreaded?) subtractions from a gallery space. Other provincial newspaper critics also got broadsided for failing to understand Apple’s work or stance. Fair enough. Apple’s challenging work has evolved through several stages and the recent enormous perspective in the Auckland Art Gallery set the seal on his importance in our art pantheon. The startlingly refurbished Auckland City Gallery, more and more a ‘happening” (pun?) place for our art, is a suitable venue for this major event. Apple could not have had a more eloquent champion than Curnow who has worked tirelessly to promote his work. Curnow’s vigorous largesse has extended to helping persuade Billy to return to New Zealand and being a “creative collaborator” with Apple. Curnow is not the only vigorous supporter Apple has – there is also the formidably intelligent Christina Barton. She has been working with Apple for 15 years and knows his work well.. She wrote the wall-mounted statements in the Apple opening and also wrote the text to what she calls an “illustrated chronology” of Apple’s career, formally entitled BILLY: A life In Parts. Both Curnow and Apple are well into their seventies yet show no sign of slowing down – if anything the tempo of their connection and individual activities give every sign of quickening. Despite some earlier encounters with cancer, Curnow glows with health. Let it be noted that as well as being a fine critic, Curnow is also a fine poet – his Cancer Daybook (which I helped him publish) is a masterpiece of tight control and lean irony, which used a documentary style to report on a fraught
time. His latest book Modern Colours is an absolute masterpiece – one of the ten best books of poetry produced in this country and rather more well-designed than the book of essays under review. This fourth very fine book of poetry remains largely unsung on our shores. Apple’s rebranding status could be seen as a species of commercial manipulation. But it has s .been the subject of much admiration. Do the red apples reddened by other apples reddening – to adapt a line from Wallace Stevens – taste any sweeter for having Billy’s name scrawled across their blushing skins? Would a rebranded Michelangelo be a better painter? The sixteenth century Italian artistic giant claimed he had no assistants or “glossy ciphers acting for his new persona” – to quote from the delicious wording of one of the off-the-wall – actually on the wall – write-ups of Apple’s retrospective by curator Christina Barton. And if it’s on the wall of the gallery, even though it’s a lineup of neatly printed words, it must be a work of art – just as McCahon’s painted and framed words are part of a work of art. While it is suspected that Michelangelo, rather being the magnificent hard working lone wolf that he made himself out to be – twenty hours a day, not washing, living on black bread – actually had (gasp) helpers. Though he most have painted most if not all of the panels in the Sistine, it is now argued that he must have had assistants eg painters, plasterers, etc to help execute this enormous work. So despite all the re-brandings and the red and golden apples, whole and half eaten apples, despite the tortured fruit bitten open to our munch, I am of the opinion, that Billy’s removals remain the wittiest and most challenging things in his wide repertoire – though he can do a mean number in neon. Certainly, as Curnow observes in an installation video, the removals excited the most ridicule at the time (mid to late 70s). The jeers made Curnow angry and nonplussed Apple. Hence Curnow made the offer to be his local go-between person to broker a more amiable response from amateur art boffins, largely journalists who seemed baffled by Apple’s conceptually ingenious art. A dry wit is always at work in every Apple creation or removal, a wit not appreciated by some art critics. In a recent critique in
the NZ Listener (March 14, 2015) Edward Hanfling, lecturer at the Waikato Institute of Technology, aggressively concluded of Apple’s show, “From an utterly subjective standpoint, then, I would say that what is lacking is juiciness, fleshiness and flavor.” But not, I would contend, intellectual wit. Apple’s removals must have caused consternation and even dread in gallery owners. It would have been a challenge for them to meet Billy’s directives and an ensuing challenge for the public to notice and take in the nature of the removal. Christo, the American-Bulgarian artist, would famously “remove” whole landscapes by wrapping them up, then give them back to the public’s refreshed gaze by unwrapping them. In like manner, it is tempting to shout at Billy: Remove One Tree Hill! Get rid of the Art Gallery! Don’t muck around with corners and annexes! Apple may have the last “laugh”. Going free at the retrospective was a poster claiming thus: BILLY APPLE ART FREE FOR THE TAKING I took one. 2 I’ve left what may be the finest vintage wine to last: Len Lye. Raised in New Zealand (Christchurch again!), Lye became a huge hit in New York shortly before Billy Apple painted it red. Lye was an experimental film maker who made a wonderful film called A Colour Box for the British Post Office (italics are required here to stress the avant garde implausibility of the event.) It was made back in 1935 to the sounds of jazz and bongo drums. Curnow footnotes from Roger Horrocks’s biography that one member of the audience reacted thus: “violent tints suggest tartan, bandana, boardinghouse wallpaper, fruit salad, chromatic spaghetti …leading to a dentist’s chair”. Condemnation rather than praise? But at least a full-blooded reaction. Curnow reminds us that A Colour Box won a special award at the 1935 Brussels Film festival –“special because it belonged to no known category”. Lye’s innovation was to draw straight onto the film.
‘Direct’ film! It sounds quite radical even now, especially since we’ve entered the age of CGI and naked film is becoming a technological relic. The actual process of the scratching requires surgical skill. Free Radicals, more abstract still, and also only four minutes long, has music from the Bagmiri tribe of Chad(!). However, Curnow only deals with nine of Lye’s 37 films. Missed out is the astonishingly hallucinogenic Rainbow Dance, a revel in the purely psychedelic, made in 1938, the same year that LSD was synthesized by the Swiss scientist Albert Hoffman. though its effects were not visited upon him until an accidental exposure in 1943. Lye was also a poet, painter and exciting creator of kinetic sculpture – the first and the best, it is said. Once you have seen Trilogy (A Flip and Two Twisters) at the Govett-Brewster in New Plymouth, it will be permanently branded into your consciousness forever – it is exciting, original, mobile (aka kinetic), and dangerous. This is literally cutting edge art as it moves from sound to silence to aural explosion. Get to close to the huge vertically, if not vortically suspended blades and they are likely to sever an arm or other body part. Of course you don’t lose any body parts because you’re up in the gallery, clutching the seat, watching in awe. There is a grandeur, a finality, a confident authority to his works that makes them unique. One feels they will stretch far into the future, across the centuries to come. Lye is what a Renaissance artist would be, if one of them were alive today. He is an ambitious electrical Nicola Tesler turned ambitious kinetic artist. Lye had Tesler’s inventiveness, capacity to think on a big scale and his maddening self assurance not to mention his genius, though it has a more reassuring timbre. McCahon was seemingly humourless, Apple is dryly ironic but Lye was full of bubbles – human champagne with the cork blown out. This unique artist oozed originality as an oyster oozes pearls, though with a lot less effort. Ladies and gentlemen, tread gently: there is a genius in the room and his name is Len Lye. As Nietzsche notably said, “Genius has light feet.” (I may be misremembering the quote). That’s the heart and soul of Lye’s work: light feet – which doesn’t mean lightheadedness. Lye’s astonishingly brilliant and literally coruscating work
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(another sign of genius – the capacity to astonish with airy brilliance) might have made a dazzling descent from the empyrean. There is something unearthly about it. However, Lye’s work is never alien, it is always sweetly of this planet, and the product of his dazzling mind. The unabashed likeability is part of its potential for enduring charm – and make no mistake: Lye’s work will endure in a way that McCahon’s – and even Apple’s – will not. Unlike say, Wagner, Lye’s work doesn’t try to annex your psyche or your soul. His 37 films full of light and grace, are never threatening. The sculpture is in a different league. It is frightening. In his first essay on Lye, Curnow quotes and cites the American poet Charles Olson extensively with a view to placing Lye in a wider artistic context. Olson is much esteemed by the expatriate New Zealand poet Alan Loney. Olson’s protégé, Robert Creeley, taught a course in contemporary American poetry at the University of Auckland in the 1980s. both men taught at the now legendary Carolina-based Black Mountain College which ran for only 24 years but had an impressive lineup of brilliant poets, artists, architect, dancers etc within its liberal arts program. Though the famous college shut its doors nearly sixty years ago, the memory of its outstanding artistpoet etc teachers and intellectual life is well remembered and its its influence continues to this day. Alongside John Cage (composer); Buckminster Fuller (architect and inventor); Edward Dahlberg (writer); Robert Duncan (poet); Merce Cunningham (dancer). Olson’s most ambitious project, The Maximus Poems, is yet another example of why contemporary poets should stop trying to write epics (or attempts at epics) by splicing together numerous short poems usually composed by some not overly interesting persona eg Maximus mouthing off about the universe. In Olson’s case, wet decks, the nature of obedience, world’s businesses, ancient texts, the gentle steep ones – and so on: pretentious, unoriginal appallingly bad poetry – and that was a sample from just one Maximus poem. Then there’s the irritatingly ragged shape of the stanzas. Need I go on? Olson’s Projectivist verse theories are not without interest but in the end poetics is a lame duck that should
always take second place to the actual poem. Can we have a real poem please, Mr Olson? Wystan’s father, Allen Curnow, the greatest poet New Zealand ever produced, or is ever likely to produce, was sceptical about literary theory which includes poetics. In the UK, and quite likely the United States professor-poets rabbit on about poetics. Poets should concern themselves with short lyric bursts which almost invariably succeed in a way that epics do not. Who wants to read Pound’s dismal Cantos now? Give me that Poundian gem, “petals on a wet black bow” any day None of these mild strictures (Olson/ Creeley etc), of course applies to Len Lye or his work. If Apple’s work is clever, ingenious and thought through with tightly controlled and rigorous intellectual thoroughness, Lye’s sculptural work is on a grand scale, looks physically risky (and in some cases probably is!). It is also final, complete, self sustaining, authoritative, and, for what it’s worth (a lot!), children would be impressed, if not frightened: I was. I am. It is interesting to reflect that just like Apple, Lye used others to assist in the creation of his work – the difference being that Lye’s assistants were electricians, scientists, engineers and so forth – all needed to work out the mechanics of his large physical art works like (say) his Water Whirler – whereas Apple’s assistants are more likely to be graphic designers, signwriters, copywriters, framers, and painters and possibly, art gallery assistants, fellow artists or friends. Curnow devotes four essays a piece to Colin McCahon and Billy Apple but only two to Len Lye. As Lye is the more major of the three artists, he should have merited a more extended treatment. Lye’s work will last for centuries. The more minor performance artist Bruce Barber is also allocated two essays, and though the one that records a performance piece in the crater of Mt Eden (now forbidden to human footprint) has the stylistic novelty of being rendered in a skilful stream of consciousness style reminiscent of Celine, it thankfully has a vastly different motive. The other artists chaptered by Curnow such as Stephen Bambury, Peter Roche, Linda Buis, Tom Kreiesler and so on, though of interest, seem like lesser cousins cut from a similar cloth: they
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belong to the Curnow brand so to speak. It could be said one gets a bigger picture of New Zealand art from The Big Picture by Hamish Keith, though Hamish’s prose style doesn’t quite match the elegance of Curnow’s. Nevertheless, Keith’s book offers a compensatory larger sociological perspective. Interestingly, Keith isn’t mentioned in Curnow’s book of essays and Curnow isn’t mentioned in Keith’s book. Francis Pound’s extremely learned The Invention of New Zealand: Art & National Identity 1930-1970 is a much better designed book than Curnow’s (which isn’t Wystan’s fault, needless to say). It provides a highly sophisticated overall view of New Zealand art. Pound rescues himself from McCahon fetishism by including many other noted New Zealand figures not mentioned in Curnow’s assay of essays. Curnow’s relatively narrow focus on pop, conceptual and post-object arts gives a restricted though intensely focused view of New Zealand’s art with scant mention of artists before (say) 1960 – except of course McCahon. This intensity of focus is simultaneously a narrowing of range, and a strength. It means he is acutely aware of art work within the parameters and the time frame that he is comfortable to work in, but less aware (one must suspect) about the artists not in his selected genres. But what a keen gaze he brings to those he does scrutinise! What is omitted (among other art genres) is expressionism and its avatars – virtually no Clairmont (a mention only). Other notable omissions – de rigueur in terms of his genre-specific frame up, include artists like Pat Hanly, Jacqui Fahey (also omitted from Keith’s survey of New Zealand art), Shane Cotton, Louise Henderson, Dean Buchanan, Dick Frizzel, Michael Smither or Mary Macintyre (and that’s just the usual suspects) plus only brief references to Don Binney, Trevor Moffit, Tony Fomison, and Bob Ellis. No mention of the Ikon gallery founded by Don Wood which exhibited several shows by McCahon. In short, the painterly painters miss out as do those with aggressive imagery or a touch (or more) of the surreal. Which isn’t to say every page of Curnow’s book of essays isn’t worth its weight in platinum: they are – and they contain some of our most well written art criticism. Thank you, Wystan.
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MOVIES
By Roger Moore
Missing in action
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here’s nothing that jolly, jaunty or joyous in writer-director Boorman’s long-gestating sequel to that semi-autobiographical 1987 film. Queen is set in the early 1950s, just as Elizabeth was taking the throne, with Boorman’s hero just old enough to be conscripted into the Korean War-era British Army. And while Boorman’s picture has the hallmarks of many a post-war “service comedy,” about training, feuding with superior officers and dating hijinx, the elder statesman of British cinema has conjured up a more melancholy and measured sequel weighted with adulthood and freighted with some of Boorman’s own doubts and regrets. William “Bill” Rohan, played by Callum Turner of The Borgias, is still living in the enchanted mid-Thames River house “The Spinx,” where he and his mother and siblings decamped after a German bomb destroyed their house nine years before. The avid movie buff is a shy 18-year-old, unsure around girls, hoping the Army missed sending him a notice. They haven’t, and his years-long aquatic idyll is over. In boot camp, Bill meets and
befriends Percy (Caleb Landry Jones), a conscript who is even more of a malcontent. Boorman serves up some standard issue service comedy gags – inept marching, a twitchy, martinet sergeant (David Thewlis), a long-suffering major (Richard E. Grant) and a role model named Redmond. Redmond is a “skiver,” a professional slouch, malingerer, “goldbrick” in U.S. Army slang. He has mastered the art of getting out of Army work and hard duties. He’s dodged being shipped to Korea, and he is the one who can help the new lads fend off discipline, duty and combat. Bill falls for “the unattainable” girl, who lets him call her “Ophelia” (Tamsin Egerton), a posh, socially connected college student. She is, as she always is in such “comedies,” the one he confesses his deepest feelings to – his hatred of Sgt. Bradley, who is forever dragging Percy and Bill and Redmond in front of the major for minor “insolent” infractions, his disenchantment with Army life. “Is there nothing good you can take from it?” she wonders. That’s when he talks about the camaraderie that is some-
thing like love shared by men who train to go to war together. Boorman brings back one surviving member of the 1987 film’s cast, David Hayman. Sinead Cusack replaces Sarah Miles as Bill’s mom, Vanessa Kirby takes over for Sammi Davis as Bill’s war bride sister, Dawn, who married a Canadian, had children but never lost her wild streak. And the esteemed John Standing has the unenviable task of taking over for the late Ian Bannen, whose gruff, grumpy sparkle as Grandfather George is sorely missed. Queen and Country stands on its own, for what it’s worth. But the filmmaker’s mixed emotions about the Britain that was lost in the war and buried in the less focused, less disciplined 1950s robs Queen and Country of the lightness and the life that energized the sentimental original film. Bill’s “discovery” of how movies are made and resolve to get into the profession are dead moments that could have been giddy. The scenery is still stunning, but there’s little of the brio of a filmmaker who went on to make Deliverance, Excalibur and the glorious Hope and Glory in it.
QUEEN AND COUNTRY Cast: Callum Turner, Caleb Landry Jones, David Thewlis, Richard E. Grant Directed by: John Boorman Running time: 115 mins Rating: unrated, with nudity, sexual situations, profanity GGG
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rongheaded in conception, eyerolling in execution, Chappie is a childish blend of the cute robot goofiness of Short Circuit and the bloody-minded mayhem of RoboCop. It never finds its sweet spot and never, for one moment, works. Neill Blomkamp, the director of District 9, has utterly exhausted his supply of South African sci-fi ideas with this disaster, an excruciating two hours of your life you will fear, quite rightly, you will never get back. A couple of years in the future, robots have taken over a chunk of Johannesburg’s police force, and judging by Hugh Jackman’s head, mullet haircuts have staged a comeback. Jackman, third-billed here, plays a weapons designer whose gigantic, heavily-beweaponed war robot is nothing the local police want anything to do with. They’re happy with the skinny, self-contained Scout robots that Deon (Dev Patel) designed, which has Jackman’s Vincent Moore bitter and resentful. And Deon’s not done. He is on the verge of a sentient robot, one who can think and feel. If only the boss (Sigourney Weaver) would give him permission. Blomkamp’s muse, his fellow South African Sharlto Copley, is the voice of Chappie. And a South African white rapper named Ninja plays ... Ninja, a low-rent gangbanger who is plainly decades older than everybody he hangs with and those his gang is at war with. He dreams up a scheme to kidnap the chief robot designer so he can turn off the robots for a heist. That’s how Deon and his sentient prototype, which Ninja the gangster’s girlfriend (Yo-Landi Visser) promptly names “Chappie” the moment Deon boots him up, fall into their hands. Cloyingly, Chappie behaves like a shy puppy the moment he comes to life. Amusingly, he picks up some of the profane, violent and guttural Afrikaner slang and accent from Ninja and Yolandi, whom he calls “Daddy” and Mommy.” Yolandi, armed to the teeth and covered in tattoos, develops an instant mommy bond with the gadget that resembles the armed and armored machine that has been a menace to her and her kind. That’s head-slappingly hilarious. The head-slapping continues when the gangsters – get this – LET their scientist/kidnap-victim go, because he promises to return and
CHAPPIE Cast: Sharlto Copley, Dev Patel, Hugh Jackman Directed by: Neill Blomkamp Running time: 120 mins Rating: R for violence, language and brief nudity G
“teach” Chappie language and morality and art every day after work. Kidnappings of the future are a 9-to-5 commitment, I guess. Ninja tries to overcome the robot’s reluctance to take up violence and crime by showing Chappie that the “real world” is dog-eat-dog. Deon tries to get the mincing machine to master landscape painting. “The Education of Little Chappie” drags on and on, with passing suggestions of how morality is taught and what
constitutes “sentient.” Patel is a broad hysteric here, and Jackman a simple burly menace, a military man used to strongarming wimpy engineers to get what he wants. And Copley? He’s just insipid as the voice of Chappie. The most valuable player here has to be Blomkamp’s agent, who got him assigned to the next Alien movie before this abomination (co-written with his wife) got out and suggested that he’s run out of ideas on just his third outing as director. That’s thinking about the future.
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CONSIDER THIS
By Amy Brooke
Not “progress” – but ignorance – and worse
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hat to throw out – what to keep? Looking around my impossibly cluttered study, I was aware I must stop procrastinating and start to actually fill those rubbish bags, to claim back some of my own life. With research and records piled high, it is almost impossible to locate a worthwhile article, an important reference. A long-standing challenge has been too long postponed. I was interrupted by an extraordinary coincidence. One doesn’t expect to pick up the phone to feel the sudden joy of hearing a voice from long, long ago – from my very first year at Otago University – of another girl who arrived that same year at Dominican Hall and whose progress through acquiring her degree more or less paralleled mine. She was fun and witty, although I knew her past did not lack tragedy, coming from South
Africa, having lost her parents, it was said. She moved with another group of intersecting friends, some worried about her. She was rumoured to be well off – and they were concerned about a male follower or two – not from among the decent and fun nearly-boys, still, in the crowd we all knew. A voice and a lesson from the past, with decades fled since I last saw her, after graduating with a degree in languages; the fun of Anthropology opening new doors – but enduring Stage I Education. The latter was occasionally interesting, but the lectures basically so insubstantial, on the whole, that I took it no further. At 22 years old, I left to teach language classes at Queens High School in Dunedin, where, feeling guilty that perhaps I hadn’t done the subject justice, I enrolled for a Postgraduate Diploma in Education. It was even worse. After the genuine intellectual content of the languages and
After the genuine intellectual content of the languages and history of other peoples, the questionable theorising and tedium of this subject was such that I regularly felt like sleeping through lectures 48 INVESTIGATEMAGAZINE.COM Apr/May 2015
history of other peoples, the questionable theorising and tedium of this subject was such that I regularly felt like sleeping through lectures. Nor did the poor spelling of the lecturer, a pleasant man, inspire confidence. I gave up, with relief. Among staff room members at Queens High were a handful of single older women, highly experienced teachers, some rumoured to have lost fiancés in World War II. One gentle, generous French teacher had been, it was said, a Resistance worker in France. I remember their kindness, patience and cheerfulness. I also remember other younger teachers with strongly politicised, leftwing views. With a mixed bag of classes, some from top streams for Latin and English, but including the lowest-streamed girls for Third Form English, I was puzzled and concerned that that the latter seemed to have been taught almost nothing at all during those eight years from being five-year olds to “progressing” through to secondary school. They had been cheated, I felt, some so hopeful, nice little girls, even the tough ones, wanting badly to make something worthwhile of their lives... to be air-hostesses, they said…or doctors’ receptionists… Their keenness to be taught basic English pronunciation, once they understood its importance – and felt someone was on their side – contrasted with the attitude of my left-wing colleagues. When I asked why nothing had been done to teach these children properly throughout primary school – not even taught to speak
clearly – their reply was along the lines of it being “inauthentic” to distance them from their home background, where their working-class roots lay. On the contrary, sheer teacher incompetence seemed much more likely… ignorance – plus a failure in educational theorising. There was little in the way of working-class background where a father was absent, a mother alcoholic. And when I argued that the aim of leaders of the working class at the beginning of the 20th century was to make education a pathway to better chances for their children, and that we should be treating all five-year olds equally, teaching them thoroughly and well from the very beginning to even up the disparities in background, and the accessibility (or lack) of books in the home, I was in hot water. This was the same time that University of Canterbury educationists were crowing that, thanks to their efforts at promoting “authenticity”, Nuzild English mispronunciations had begun to replace basic English. The result? The garbled, distorted speech today heard everywhere. Downgrading teaching written English as well – its grammar and syntax – ensured very many English teachers are now not up to the job. Sharing common experiences over the years, I found Jenny (I’ll call her) had been a well-qualified primary teacher, specialising in literature and reviewing, and now equally disturbed at the deterioration in what is being offered to children. She is shocked at the decline in quality of books she is given to review by a currently fashionable New Zealand publisher of children’s stories, sourcing them from overseas to translate into English. When she protests at how awful they are, she is told, “But they have won awards!” Naturally. With the subverting of so much of our culture – in literature, poetry, art, music, and architecture – the worst of what is offered to children, such as the top-selling and crude The Wonky Donkey, will be enthusiastically promoted by teachers, librarians, and reviewers – they themselves now part of the problem. And when this happens, across almost the whole field of children’s writing, with cartoonized, over-sentimental, crude or politicized books for “kids” – never children – the obvious result is the third-rate crowding out the first-rate – and that far
fewer children now get access to really worthwhile reading. I pointed out to Jenny that for the sake of the children, we have to fight back against this. She thought it is too late. She has retired. But who is there to step into her shoes? Previous to junking the Dominion Post’s “Your Weekend”, I came across eight writers’ responses to being asked to briefly define love. The result, from the usual establishment poets whose unimportant, basically rubbishy collections are now avoided by the general public – with very good reason – was pretty typical. I laughed out loud at one...that “Love is like fried rice…” Well, why not? If anything goes, nonsense does, too – at least it lacked the affectation of the majority. However, it’s not so long ago that great poetry meant a great deal to each generation. One of the best explanations for what we have lost is from Lloyd Evans’s recent Spectator review, Trick or Treat. “This sort of thing has been going on since the 1950s, when good sense was overthrown by Ionesco’s mirthless zaniness and Beckett’s punishing obscurity. Theatre copied this upside down aesthetic from modern art and the connoisseurs
of the deep 20th century who claimed to find merit in conceptual hokum – even though the naked eye could see nothing but worthless and insolent scrap. Vacuity is taken for complexity, irrationality for sublimity, and talentlessness for mastery.” In his must-read Intellectuals, Paul Johnson identifies those responsible for the attack on everything most worthwhile in our intellectual heritage. The sheer ignorance of so many promoting this as progress has been encouraged by those with a very determined agenda. Moreover, as we now know, they are well dug in within the Ministry of Education… Too late? Not if individuals remember how much they count… © Amy Brooke www.amybrooke.co.nz You can help by sharing on Facebook! www.facebook.com /100daystodemocracy?ref=br_tf www.100days.co.nz www.summersounds..co.nz
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