Yellow Peril by Tze Ming Mok

Normal service does not quite resume

Maori Party-Nats-UF-Act-NZF? Speaking of surreal coalitions, what were Graham Henry and Ahmed Zaoui doing watching Graham Brazier declare himself a narcotics user in front of a huge packed churchful of community scions on Saturday? And what was I doing there? Hallucinating?

'Who's Graham Henry?' I asked Mike Treen.

The funeral/memorial service was taking on epic dreamlike proportions, and it wasn't even an allegory for post-election coalition-negotiations.

So. Farewell
then
David Wakim.

"My homeland
isn't a
suitcase"

Darwish said,
but God packed
you well,

as an
elaborate joke
on The Man:

a dozen Epsom
dadsworth, five days
of 'drug dealers'

three golfers
a man of rugby,
cricket,

faith, and
questions,
an Aussie,

a Kiwi, a
real live
Arab

and an
army
of revolutionary

shit-kickers
in one
David; the catch

burst the lot
all over
St Benedicts.



The Funeral Directors' Association just put out a handy book on dealing with death in different cultures. The bloody thing isn't on the internet though, so I have no actual information to impart.

As it happens, a friend of mine who works on a *coughmedicalsoapoperacough* was asked not long ago by the scriptwriters about Mainland Chinese traditions around death and funerals for *splutterplotpurposesahem*. How the hell is she supposed to know? She only plays a Mainland Chinese on TV - she's NZ-born Southeast Asian Chinese, she don't know jack. So she asked me, and I was like 'dude, I'm NZ-born Southeast Asian Chinese too, I don't know jack either.' We both guessed that the answer was something along the lines of: Pretend nothing happened, laugh in painful embarrassment a lot, lock yourself in your office and work extremely hard for a few weeks, not even pausing to blog.