Lindsay Perigo
Lindsay Perigo

The Politically Incorrect Show - 28/09/1999

Music - Die Fledermaus

Good afternoon, Kaya Oraaa & welcome to the Politically Incorrect Show on the free speech network, Radio Pacific, for Tuesday September 28, proudly sponsored by Tuariki Tobacco Ltd, the show that says bugger the politicians & bureaucrats & all the other bossyboot busybodies who try to run our lives with our money; that stands tall for free enterprise, achievement, profit, & excellence, against the state-worshippers in our midst; that stands above all for the most sacred thing in the universe, the liberty of the human individual.

Music up, music down!

So New Zealand First won hands down in my poll yesterday. The victory was Winston's of course; without him, the party would be nothing. And the fluffheads who voted for him hadn't a clue why, other than preposterous illusions about honesty. This of the man who pretended to have met Ronald Reagan when he hadn't, who insisted that a Cook Strait ferry had scraped the bottom of the harbour when it hadn't, who talked about sickly white liberal guilt when opposing the Waitangi gravy-train before jumping aboard it, who talked about small government and low taxes when he entered Parliament before becoming one of the biggest socialists in the business, who turned fudging into an art form and for whom the purpose of politics is simply to play the game successfully and keep grabbing the headlines, whatever it takes.

And there's no question that Winston is supremely skilled at playing the game. My frustration is that he's wasting himself. Potentially he's so much better than what he's chosen to become: a demagogue pandering to mindless malcontents. His own pragmatism ought to tell him that the ageing drones who support him now will nearly all be dead in five years; but more than that, does he not ever wonder what he has done to his own soul?

Winston is sharp. Far sharper than most of his colleagues in Parliament. Winston understands principles far better than any of his colleagues in Parliament, with two possible exceptions. Note here I am talking about understanding principles, not necessarily advocating or upholding them; what I mean is that he has a capacity to understand abstractions way beyond that of his colleagues and light years beyond that of his senile supporters. Winston has class - and I am not talking about his double-breasted suits or anything so trivial; Winston could dress in faded jeans and a torn T-shirt and still exude pizazz - he simply has it. Next to him, his colleagues are yawning bores (in fact, they're yawning bores whether next to him or not). Above all, and most endearingly, Winston has a sense of life that his anally-retentive colleagues in these Politically Correct times would not begin to understand and that they actively try to persecute. Winston enjoys a cigarette or two (hundred); he appreciates good wine & lively conversation (how he could ever have put up priggish prudes like Delamere in his caucus is beyond me); he can sing Elvis ballads with a sensitivity not too far from the original. The man is glad to be alive. He is wasting himself pitching his wares to a gaggle of ga-ga groupies. It exasperates me to think of the good he could achieve if only he used his attributes in a worthy cause, like rolling back the tide of statism that is engulfing us - as he well understands.

Watching Winston is akin to watching Lawrence Olivier in a porn movie.

Politically Incorrect Show, desperately seeking the best in Winston - 309 3099.

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