Hard News: Castoffs of Waiheke
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And … we had a Commission of Inquiry into Chiropratic?
i'd like to know the outcome of that. they should have banned that particular bit of quackery years ago.
chiropractic is to back care what tyre black is to automotive repair.
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__And … we had a Commission of Inquiry into Chiropratic?__
i'd like to know the outcome of that.
Quite favourable, you will be alarmed to hear.
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chiropractic is to back care what tyre black is to automotive repair.
Does that mean you get a free chiropractic session whenever you take yourself in for a yearly medical ?
Never tried a chiropractor, but I do rate osteopathy and acupuncture.
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Quite favourable, you will be alarmed to hear.<
outraged... extremely outraged.
but then, if someone is stupid enough to constantly part with money to "repair" a back they could fix themselves with better posture and more exercise, then so be it.
one doesn't want to piss off the medical lobby, after all.
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A chiropracter gave me a lot of help with my neck last year. I will say this for his treatments - they were quick and painless, and didn't require me to add some weird weightlifting drills into my day. All three of those points have not applied to physio treatment I've had for the same problem. It was also quite cheap.
Certainly good posture and exercise are important at all times, but when you have a specific problem, it can be hard to sort it out yourself.
I've only tried the one, and I've tried several physios. They've both helped but I have to say that physios seem to always get on my nerves. Really full of themselves, they act like they instantly know the answer to all your problems, but unfortunately they have never actually fixed any of my problems any more permanently than the humble chiropracter did.
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But these are people petitioning for admission to the establishment, not celebrating street culture.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
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i can see you're typing something there ben, but all i'm reading is "quack, quackquack, quack, quackquackquack"
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We are tired of the whingers who fail to contribute then moan about the state of the nation
"Pot", "kettle", "black", etc.
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But these are people petitioning for admission to the establishment, not celebrating street culture.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
Well, to the street kid culture represented by those of us who comment on PA it is a bad thing. Just so...passé.
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I like buying old books on the island.
Me too. When I was last there I found a dinky little cookery book, circa 1974, with recipes for young people who might have found themselves cooking for the first time. Everything looked like hospital food.
I also like old magazines - and in the world of magazines, "old" kicks in after only about two years. Even magazines with more humble goals than The New Zealander end up being a mirror on the world they were part of, and in ways they probably didn't expect.
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Never tried a chiropractor, but I do rate osteopathy and acupuncture.
I have tried a chiropractor and have a very negative attitude towards them. Too invasive, too much cracking.
No. No. No.
Osteopathy may well seem quack-esque to many but I swear by it. Incidentally they also tend to give good practical advice about posture and exercise, because ultimately you have to be proactive and take care of your body.
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Its a slightly humbling thing for an author or artist to stumble across a signed copy of their work in a second hand bin somewhere. Thats happened to a couple of people I know. We all enjoy gentle illusion that the work is valued by someone and actually kept, not chucked in the clear out pile along with all the other unsuitable Christmas presents. But at least they didn't just bin it or burn it so its not all bad.
One potter friend was completely delighted when he found one of his early coffee cups in a Sally-Army pile ten years later, he instantly bought the thing and carried it home like a rare butterfly.
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i can see you're typing something there ben, but all i'm reading is "quack, quackquack, quack, quackquackquack"
You might need to take off the duck-tinted spectacles.
Well, to the street kid culture represented by those of us who comment on PA it is a bad thing.
No wonder my comments feel out of place. The street kid culture in my area is as bad as it was in 1980. Sniffing glue is still in. Never felt the urge to join in.
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You might need to take off the duck-tinted spectacles.
mmmmm.... duck.....
but in seriousness. tried chiro. didn't work. sit-ups? a bloody treat.
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he instantly bought the thing and carried it home like a rare butterfly.
awesome... i know potters, and they love their work even when they hate it.
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but in seriousness. tried chiro. didn't work.
<quack>Seemed to work OK for me. Guess it depends what your problem is. At least the guy didn't spend most of the appointment ragging on every choice I'd made since birth.</quack>
I have tried a chiropractor and have a very negative attitude towards them. Too invasive, too much cracking.
I've had some pretty short sharp painful treatments from physiotherapists over the years, too. Most of them seemed to involve some form of wrestlers hold and then an almighty crank. Most times it helped, but the earbashing never did.
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One potter friend was completely delighted when he found one of his early coffee cups in a Sally-Army pile ten years later, he instantly bought the thing and carried it home like a rare butterfly.
This is not exactly an example of tossed-away craftsmanship or anything, but in the late 1990s I found a promotional ashtray for my grandfather's early 1960s Invercargill car dealership in a junk shop on K Road. 'Frazer and Smith: Sell Your Car To Us!' it said. I carried it home like a rare butterfly too! I mean, what are the odds?
Robyn, I *love* old magazines. One of the coolest parts of researching my thesis was reading fifteen years' worth of the New Zealand Women's Weekly: 1960-1975. The old advertisements are just superb. I also read a few years of the NZWW from the WWII years. Actually, the wartime rationing recipes - despite the preponderance of, um, savoury jellied things, which basically squick me out - were practical and good, if minimalist.
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Robyn, I *love* old magazines.
Me too. I forgot to mention that I also got three 1971 issues of Time magazine. Two of the cover stories are Apollo 15 and the NASA funding crunch, and a preview of that year's Frazier-Ali fight. Choice.
One of the coolest parts of researching my thesis was reading fifteen years' worth of the New Zealand Women's Weekly
I got an email today from someone who's doing a lot of reading for a media history-related thesis, and he's become very fond of The New Zealander for the reasons I touched on in my post. It's an interesting time.
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Even magazines with more humble goals than The New Zealander end up being a mirror on the world they were part of, and in ways they probably didn't expect.
My wife ended up going through a huge number of the old School Journals at one job. It was really, really interesting - the older ones were far more respectful of Maori and Maori culture than you might expect, right through the 1920s and into the 1930s, and then started becoming less and less so, into a postwar England, England, Uber Alles line of "Maori bad, New Zealand Bad, Worship the Glory of England!"
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Funny about the food. Alistair Taylor and Deborah Coddington went on to run The Gables in Russell which was supposedly one of the better restaurants around in the late 80s. For all his faults, big Al was a bad-ass in the kitchen.
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An off-topic note for fans like myself who are a little behind...
Daily show is back with new shows, sans writers, but seemingly still pretty good. Normal times.
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Think one of my happy moments was an easter spent in the Red House near Wanganui.
Was a little bach in the middle of this garden with a huge bookshelf crammed with old books and magazines. Eating our microwave lamb roast watching movies on the tiny tv and reading old books, great!
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Its a slightly humbling thing for an author or artist to stumble across a signed copy of their work in a second hand bin somewhere.
I always thought it would be depressing to find great piles of your book on a dollar remainder table. Though, as Clive James once put it, there is an upside:
**The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am pleased.
In vast quantities it has been remaindered
Like a van-load of counterfeit that has been seized
And sits in piles in a police warehouse,
My enemy's much-prized effort sits in piles
In the kind of bookshop where remaindering occurs.
Great, square stacks of rejected books and, between them, aisles
One passes down reflecting on life's vanities,
Pausing to remember all those thoughtful reviews
Lavished to no avail upon one's enemy's book --
For behold, here is that book
Among these ranks and banks of duds,
These ponderous and seeminly irreducible cairns
Of complete stiffs.[...]
Soon now a book of mine could be remaindered also,
Though not to the monumental extent
In which the chastisement of remaindering has been meted out
To the book of my enemy,
Since in the case of my own book it will be due
To a miscalculated print run, a marketing error--
Nothing to do with merit.
But just supposing that such an event should hold
Some slight element of sadness, it will be offset
By the memory of this sweet moment.
Chill the champagne and polish the crystal goblets!
The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am glad.**Ouch...
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Clive James may know plenty about making enemies (and gloating), but he knew sod all about book publishing when he wrote this.
Anticipating what any book's print run should be is neither an art nor a science, it's at best an informed guess, and normally, little more than a punt.
With booksellers being less and less inclined to carry backlist, and publishers wanting their money out within a few months to put into their next venture, it's a miracle that every book does not end up on remainder tables. Remainders are normal, not a mark of shame.
I agree that old baches full of old books are a great joy. Provided it's not one of those His and Hers bookcases neatly divided into Westerns/Sci-fi and Thrills and Swoons!
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The remainder table, hah, yes, not unlike the ignominy of the warehouse $1 bin. May be inevitable supply and demand economics but still bound to be hard on the creative ego.
On the other hand we found a marvellous CD featuring Pope John Paul intoning in Latin over trance music in the Warehouse $1 bin, complete with high cheese warning foldout photo-montage of mountaintop benedictions and smiling nuns. Incredible one off find because really what marketing boffin thought the Pope's Greatest Hits was a good idea? Bought for comedy reasons but unexpectedly good accompaniment for candlelit bathing, who knew that the late pontiff's rich basso voice praying actually goes very well with beats behind it? and I never would have known that if not for rummaging in the remainders.
Caveat insertion: of course my appreciation was aided by the fact I dont understand Latin so am not troubled by the meaning. (and, NB sincere apologies to any Catholics lurking)
Daleaway: It seemed like Clive James understood it would be his turn too soon enough...that quote is more about (standard issue) bitchy professional rivalry than publishing norms, surely? And those his and hers bookcases are arguably as old school Kiwi as the endangered tearooms are...completely charming nostalgia with the perspective of distance and the option of choice. who we (some of us) were, and all that.
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Bought for comedy reasons but unexpectedly good accompaniment for candlelit bathing, who knew that the late pontiff's rich basso voice praying actually goes very well with beats behind it? and I never would have known that if not for rummaging in the remainders.
Listening to the Holy Father whilst naked? I'm sure there's a special punishment for that ...
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