Tuesday, 19 February 2019

The Otaki Kite Festival 2019: a photographic essay

On Sunday we went to the annual Otaki Kite Festival.It promised fun for the whole family. We drove south, with songs by Mary Poppins and Kate Bush floating through our heads. The first kite we saw looked like a giant sperm.


Though, in fairness, from beneath it retained a much more PG rating.


Kite representations of animals filled the air. Many floated together in symbiotic harmony, though this carefree panda seemed blissfully unaware it was being hunted by some demonic hentai spirit.


Other kites brought to mind annoying childish ear worms, whilst posing marine taxonomic questions such as 'is it a fish or a mammal?'.

Whale shark do do do do do do, whale shark do do do do do do


Of course, it wouldn't be a kite festival without blatant political statements and protest. The country paid $26 million so this guy could fly his stylish kite. Money well spent? Who's to say.


There were no Red Peak kites. Nor Lazer Kiwi ones, sadly.

Other kites were demonstrated more of a human anatomy and physiology theme. This man flew a representation of the morning after a hot curry.


Others took on a nautical theme. Are the often any pirate kites at the Otaki Kite Festival? Yes, there aaarrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!!



As we headed  up the beach, what could only be described as a massive tribute to the comic actor Leslie Nielsen (1926-2010) took to the skies. Nice Beaver!


It launched right as we were about to leave. For the sake of this blig, it was the Just in Beaver.

Finally, we got back in the car in order to drive back north. Leaving the festival, I couldn't help but feel a little deflated.


Friday, 18 January 2019

Guest Post: an anonymous patriot writes 'I performed my civic duty, and all I got was banned from Wild Bean Cafe'

A patriotic lover of families writes anonymously:

'I love my country. I love my family too. And I want to see my children grow up in a country that I would be proud of. And that my proud ancestry would be proud of.

A country of progressive values. A country of freedom of opportunity. A country of equality: equality in the workplace, equality in love, equality in access to medical care and education. A country where the mother of a young child can also be Prime Minister, and where she would be admired throughout the land. All these are virtues I can't stand to see our country signal on a daily basis. And that's why I support the Thinking Man's Think Tank, Family First New Zealand. An intellectual behemtoh not afraid to campaign to launch our once proud land back into the 1950s, if that's what it takes to shake such foppish ideas from the brains of millennial snowflakes.

Needless to say, when I heard  a rumour that certain cafeterias, restaurants and public places around our fallen nation were offering free access to the world wide wireless web at their establishments, I was shocked. The Internet! The den of all evils: of gambling, of swearing, of satire, of Rick Astley, of pocket monsters, and worst of all, of nudity and fornication! This would not do. Thankfully, Brave Bob McCroskie and the Boys at FFNZ were onto Tim Berners-Lee's case (more like Tim Burn-in-Hell if you ask me), with a cunning plan to expose ourselves to these dangers. Or expose these dangers ourselves. Sadly I can't remember which was around he put that sentence.

First though, research! I'd heard a rumor that Family First had put out a press release stating that 60% of people had stumbled across naughty images whilst innocently browsing the information superhighway. I had to find this research! I entered the term 'family first p*rn' into my googlemachine, and imagine my shock at the results! (Editor's note: please do not search for this press release in public. Results may cause embarrassment, especially if you actually find the aforementioned report) If this was how easily led astray one could be simply by searching for a reputable and honest piece of evidence from a respectable charity (yes I said it, a charity), imagine if you came onto your computer or portable smart telephone with more nefarious deeds in mind? I had to combat this. My country needed me.

Not photoshopped

Family First were after volunteers to enter cafes, restaurants, and public spaces throughout the land, and attempt to enter such illicit websites. Not by accident, mind, but in full knowledge of what we were doing. My favourite local joint, the Wild Bean Cafe, offered free wireless access! This was my chance to perform my civic duty, as a morally upstanding citizen, but in the knowledge I that I could enjoy those tasty Southern Style Chicken Bites! I entered the local establishment, smart telephone in hand, and sat myself at one of the low tables with plastic chairs, and tapped on the three small curved bars signifying the remote interweb connection in the bottom right hand corner of my screen. I was in!

Not knowing any other way, I went searching for Family First's press release once again. I clicked on a linked page, plugged in my headphones, and, not knowing what to do, pressed on a triangle on screen. A wave of excitement of doing something so forbidden, and all for the greater good of my Nation, ran up and down my body, before settling around the nether regions. What a thrill! I looked around, as a metaphorical... no, a literal orgy of flesh hit the screen. No one was paying any attention.

Surely this was a mistake? Surely, upon detecting such illicit activity, the page would automatically shut and my phone screen freeze? That was the sensible assumption to make, but I had to make sure. I had come too far not to. I watched on, sinking lower into my seat, as the onscreen moans transmitted into my ear. My resolve to see this assignment through stiffened. I shoved another chicken bite into my mouth. The video reached it's climax, and I marveled at how much egg would be on the face of the internet provider when they were fully exposed. But surely this was a mistake? Surely authorities would cotton on soon and my connectivity would diminish? As an upstanding citizen, I decided to crack on. I clicked on another video.

I wriggled. I'd slid down in my seat, and prided myself on being more erect in stature. At that point, my headphone jack slid out of it's socket, and a load moan was emitted from my phone. A passing mother shielded her son's eyes from the frenzy of naked bodies on my screen. 'Good job,' I commended her. 'You just can't get young people away from it anywhere these days, can you.'

The authorities were called, and I was expelled unceremoniously from the Wild Bean. I found my mission had been efficiently rubbed out, unceremoniously tossed, and my pleas for leniency fell upon deaf ears. No longer am I allowed to visit the Wild Bean for my titillation. I have a date in court next week. Still, Bob assures me my sense of moral superiority should help me get off.'