The secret diary of . . . Jamie Whyte
As a philosopher, I'm keenly aware of the fallacy that incest between consenting adults is a problem.
There's an orthodoxy of thought - established by liberals, who won't rest until they tuck in the sheets of the nation - which has led to many men and women lose their freedom for engaging in an activity which might colloquially and literally be known as "how's your father".
So long as it's between consenting adults, incest can be a beautiful thing, like a rainbow. Are there laws against rainbows? Isn't it enough to keep them out of reach of children?
The great economist and philosopher FA Hayek argues, "Any kind of discrimination seems to be incompatible with the idea of freedom under the law."
We abhor discrimination against gays, women, ethnic minorities, religious groups, and the mentally ill. How do we maintain any semblance of intellectual honesty if we discriminate against couples in a relationship which is normal in every way except for the fact they're closely related to each other?
Why should the state interfere if a sister wishes to marry her brother, and raise their children to respect them as parents as well as aunt and uncle?
What plays in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom. As a philosopher, and also as newly elected leader of the Act Party, I'm proud to guard that bedroom door. That's where you'll find me in election year. When you think of Act, I want you to think of me outside a bedroom in which consenting adults commit acts of incest.
Lively meeting with Act's new campaign manager, Richard Prebble. We met at his home, which he shares with quite a few other people in a kind of open-plan compound.
He said, "You remind me of myself when I was young." I said, "Coming from one of the great masters of New Zealand political life, that's a great compliment. Thank you."
He said, "I didn't have any hair, either, when I was born. Bald, just like you! Completely bald! Ha, ha!" I said, "Please don't slap my head."
He suddenly looked worried, and shouted, "Nurse!" A woman arrived. She smiled, and said, "It's OK, Mr Prebble. Just a little accident. We'll have you cleaned up in no time. Is this your son?"
He said, "I don't know who he is. I've never seen him before." He was taken away. An elderly couple approached me, and said, "Is it time for bingo?"
Flat tax will create a level playing field in which the wealthy can enjoy the freedom to play like All Blacks while the rest of the population fetch their water.
Then and only then can New Zealand take pride in itself.
Lively meeting with Prebble. He was lying down, sedated, while I told him that Labour's new chief of staff was political dinosaur Matt McCarten.
He said, "Don't underestimate him. He's a wily opponent." I said, "Really?" He said, "Mark my words. With him pulling the strings, the Alliance might work a deal with Labour. Together, Helen Clark and Jim Anderton are a dangerous prospect. But don't worry. I've been thinking . . ."
He closed his eyes. I shook him, and said, "What were you thinking?' A nurse adjusted his oxygen mask. She said to me, "Don't wake him. See how happy he looks." An elderly man approached.
I said, "I don't know when the bingo is!" He said, "I'm Don Brash. Does the Act Party need a spokesman who is prepared to ‘speak out', as they say, in favour of decriminalising the personal use of ‘dope'?"
Act's conference is this weekend. I've got to be on top of my game. It's crucial that I stay on-message, and focus on Act's core principles. The party that National needs. The party that keeps National honest. The party that represents the good people of Epsom. The party that stands for incest between consenting adults, who may or may not live in Epsom, but probably do, in their droves, for generations.
Steve Braunias is a Metro staff writer.
Sunday Star Times