Moata's Blog Idle

Moata Tamaira is a librarian with a black-belt in sarcasm who's been meaning to get one in procrastination too but always ends up watching TV instead. Her blog is an unholy mash-up of whimsy, cynicism and wry observation.

Ineffable effigies

09:23am 12 Aug 2014

I love when a news story pops up that suddenly forces people to use an otherwise rarely uttered word. I briefly felt that way about "liquefaction" before the novelty well and truly wore off but this week "effigy" is very much the word of the moment.

In case the electioneering, spin-doctoring, speechifying, and general mugging at every available photo op in the lead up to September's election has already become too much for you and you're hiding under a rock until the whole thing blows over this is the guts of it. Person's unknown stick John Key's head (as purloined from a election billboard) on top of straw man type figure. Set fire to it. Video of such gets posted on Facebook. Politicos and commentators (but not the NZ Fire Service as far as I know) point fingers and get in a big flap about it.

The admins of this Facebook page which posted the video but has been also falsely been attributed as the creator of the video are, if their recent posts are anything to go by, quite frankly, OVER IT.

Now, there are three things that we need to take from this story. First, the word "effigy" is awesome. It's got "eff" in it. It's got "fig" in it. It sounds like what you'd say if you were hankering for a bit of a swear but couldn't say so. Or how one should describe the bad language of someone else when interviewed for the television about being threatened by a knife-wielding robber. "I can't really say exactly the words he used, but it was very effigy".

Second, we should all understand the difference between posting a video (or image) on Facebook, and being the person who made that video or image and attribute appropriately whenever possible.

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Cats on my ankles, joy in my heart

09:10am 07 Aug 2014

Yesterday was a bit of a trying one here in the Tamaira-Fox household. The Master had, for reasons largely unknown and unknowable, deigned it necessary to wake no less than five times in the night leaving his parents a tad delicate of disposition and positively shambolic of appearance. But this is how it goes sometimes when you've created a small human who possesses a great many of your own traits and flaws, such as a gift for not sleeping.

So anyway, I was feeling a bit frazzled already yesterday when The Master decided that in addition to not sleeping well at night that he would also eschew a daytime nap. Much crying ensued, some of it from him. Eventually he did surrender to the sweet bliss of sleep and that's when I decided to open the parcel from the Silver Fox's sister that had arrived earlier that day. It was making a tinkling noise that suggested it contained some kind of baby toy.

In it were gifts for the baby, the Silver Fox and myself. Amongst my gifts were these socks...

Miraculous mood-altering socks

Despite having had a pretty rubbish day up to that point I broke out into a massive grin. Who knew that a pair of quite frankly ridiculous looking socks could instantly change my mood for the better?

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Life begins at forty

10:02am 05 Aug 2014

Later this year I will be turning forty. FOOOOR-TEEEE. When I think about the number, yea, I thinketh it in full caps.

I am as surprised as anyone that I have managed to make it this far but put it mostly down to a diet high in potatoes and a strong aversion to most kinds of sports or other daredevil activities (and I never, ever eat seafood at a buffet restaurant.)

Like most people, I struggled, as a callow youth, to imagine myself at this age. It was like trying to see something in infrared. My "imagination spectrum" just was not up to the task. What was forty? Surely not something I need worry about. Let's just have another Vodka Redbull and... ooooh, I love this song!

And so, for a really long time, thinking about forty was a very, very easy thing to avoid doing.

But I've decided that in order to not freak out royally at the end of the year when the great date arrives, that I should probably start thinking about it a bit. Gently acclimatise myself to middle age, as it were. I can be cool with this.

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Political muppetry

12:57pm 31 Jul 2014

Political hoardings. They're popping up all over the country in the lead up to this year's election. And what an unlovely addition to the roadside they are. Isn't it bad enough that politicians exist in the first place? Must we be reminded of this via their grinning visages on corflute hoardings on every street corner? And is it me, or do their cold, dead eyes seem to follow you? And do you quicken your pace just a little bit so as to be past all the more quickly?

Which is why I was rather thrilled to see this example while I was out running an errand yesterday.

Wocka wocka wocka-ing for New ZealandYes, that would be John Key as Fozzie Bear and Christchurch Central MP Nicky Wagner as Miss Piggy, emblazoned with the word "Muppets".

I'm forced to reflect that vandalism is wrong but some vandalism is less wrong than other kinds.

Especially if it makes me laugh out loud.

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A curse upon thee

01:33pm 29 Jul 2014

While I am not myself a driver, I've come to think of the Silver Fox's 4WD as "our" car. It's the vehicle that conveyed us around the South Island on holiday. It's the car in which we brought the baby home from the hospital. It's not fancy or particularly clean, but it works and gets us all where we need to go.

At the weekend someone stole it. The SF returned to where he'd parked it only to find a patch of broken glass. He got the bus home.

If you've ever had your car stolen then you'll know how upsetting this can be, not to mention bloody inconvenient. And of course there's a certain level of antipathy that you feel towards the bottomfeeder who thought it was a great idea to take something that didn't belong to them.

When I told social media about this, naturally people expressed solidarity and some let forth with some choice curses upon the "perp", such as "May their houses be cursed with upset stomachs and police officers" and wishes for various kinds of pox.

This got me to thinking - what kind of curse would I wish upon the miscreant who stole our car? Something non-lethal, surely. The punishment should fit the crime, after all. But being that I'm a bit of a soft lefty lliberal, I had to admit that anyone who goes about nicking cars probably already has a life that's significantly lacking in several ways already. I should probably feel sorry for them. I mean, I don't but I probably should.

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