What's the Fuss Over Whales

There must be something genetically modified about Kiwis to respond strongly to anything that’s got the vaguest connection with whales.
That paper tiger, The International Whaling Commission seems to be first port of call for any recently finished Prime Ministerial pretender, (McLay, Palmer for example) and probably it is first emergency appointment for any Governor General unable to pick up another judgeship to follow the one’s given up to be GG. Japan buys off Whaling Commission members so we can be outraged about a source of meat that doesn’t seem much different from most others that we either currently kill in our freezing works or our forefathers quite happily hunted from right where I live, opposite the Whale Museum in Mangonui.
Rational thought about whales is not possible in NZ. Dept of Conservation waste fortunes saving suicidal whales who die next day in sandy graves and now our local doctor is closing down his medical practice in order to open a brothel to be called Whalers. It’s not entirely clear why this name was chosen. Perhaps they’ll have a whale of a time, or is it because they expect the customers to be fishermen following in the history of the local whaling fleet. Either way it has already been nicknamed Sperm-whalers for some unfathomable reason.
When judges are not dreaming of an automatic promotion to the Order of NZ followed closely by a Governor General-ship they most likely fondly see themselves at a Whaling Commission hui where they can express fully their support for Land rights for all gay and lesbian whales.
Judges can do this sort of thing in the full knowledge that to question their unparalleled wisdom is just not acceptable behaviour. Fancy any decent society that purports to support freedom of speech actually allowing that to extend to Fathers expressing their discontent at judges of the Family Court, even when their frustration is obvious to anyone lacking the depth of understanding or the fancy wigs of a judge.
Whatever next! The public might be allowed to think that non judges could get access to the honours system, or perish the thought, a governor general could be appointed who not only was not a judge, but someone that the public had actually heard of before, perhaps someone who had done something as undignified as being a captain of the All Blacks or of industry.
Settle down! That’s a bit rich! Encouraging the public to think for themselves when the government and their supreme appointees, the judges and members of such august bodies as the Advertising Standards Authority are there to do the thinking for us.
Look how it all comes together! Another whale pops up to tell us that we can’t watch Toyotas being sought by husbands and wives who should have learnt better behaviour from the Supreme masterful head judge of the Family Court.
Nasty pictures of lungs and feet are now to grace the packages of that almost banned substance, tobacco. Why feet? Is there more to this than we are told? No doubt the Family Court judges are planning nasty photos of ugly families to be put on all wedding invitations to prevent further damage to the judge’s weekend peace by putting would be fathers off in the first place. Members of the Advertising Standards Authority will be replaced by pictures of nasty things that happen when you become whale like or dream of driving a Toyota, which no doubt will be painted the colour of a traffic accident.
Pictures of whales will be made mandatory on butter to remind us all of the dangers of getting too big from overeating dairy foods. Those that ignore these warnings will be scientifically hunted by Japanese angry over the Toyota ads.
Where will it all end? If seventeen angry viewers can stop the whole country having a laugh at a car advert, then what’s wrong with seventeen island nations ganging up on the whales at the next Whaling Commission meeting.
Nasty pictures of know-it-all judges protesting outside the houses of known fathers are on the way.
WAYNE BROWN