Death may not be a particularly cheery subject to reflect on, but on occasion it pulls us up short and requires us to examine ourselves, our societies, and asks us to learn.
It does make you feel old - and a little out of the loop. Having trouble recalling when you were last invited to a foam party?
Last week, the Government announced a new 960-bed prison will open in Wiri, South Auckland, in 2015. It will be a prison with a difference: the flagship for the new public-private-partnership mode of building, funding and running state institutions.
I have two early memories of what I wanted to be. At about 4, I was desperate to become a carpenter.
I have been thinking about immigrants of late. And I'm partly prompted to put pen to paper about them by the snide, patronising and sometimes outright racist attitudes that are thoughtlessly propagated about them.
The word "science" come from the Latin root scientia, which means knowledge.
I shared a long ride with a Canterbury earthquake survivor at the weekend. It was an eye-opener.
What was it exactly that possessed John Key in 2008 to say he would resign as Prime Minister before sanctioning a rise in the age of pension eligibility in this country?
The great inequality debate was given impetus internationally last week by revelations of astounding bonuses still being awarded to top bankers in the United Kingdom; and pointed relevance in this country by the row over the salary rise of Christchurch chief executive Tony Marryatt, and the noisy ousting, particularly in Auckland, of the protesters of the Occupy movement.
Consider these two unexpected propositions: a leading contender for the Republican nomination for President of the United States of America is ambushed by a competing conservative candidate for putting profits before people; and one of the richest men in America, a quintessential capitalist, is demanding that the nation's top earners pay higher taxes.
May God bless and keep you always May your wishes all come true May you always do for others And let others do for you May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung May you...
It wasn't so much the bare, urine-burnt patches of grass at the bottom of the wide garden steps that offended. No, that could be put down to sheer sloth on my own part, shooing the dog down in that direction late in the evening instead of taking him for a regulated constitutional stroll - to do his dirty work elsewhere, or kill some wild weeds on a roadside verge.
Traditionally, at this time of year, we look backwards and forwards - and sometimes sideways - to reflect on the world around us, and our part in it.
The other day I committed a subversive act. No, I did not plot to put barrel-loads of gunpowder beneath the Beehive; I did not threaten to deface the electorate office of a local MP; I did not even hack the Governor-General's personal email account in order to send out fraudulent and off-colour email Christmas greetings.
One conviction for driving a vehicle with a "sustained loss of traction" can perhaps be put down to the rash indiscretions of youth; two to an openly rebellious attitude to the law; but a third, for which this week a Milton teenager was told he stands to have his car crushed, can only be put down to a combination of contempt for authority and wanton stupidity.
Hindsight has the potential to make fools out of the supremely confident while turning silent naysayers into sages.
There is no doubt, as Prime Minister John Key is fond of pointing out, the mixed-ownership model that he and his party are proposing for their partial sale of state assets can work extremely well.
The hostel was an old 1950s prefab building. I'm picturing it as a jaded yellow but that may be simply the sepia fade of memory. It was, after all, 38 years ago.
Events of the past week have turned the dictionary on its head: the innocent question "fancy a cuppa?" will be positively resonating with unintended nuance at morning smoko around the country.
I am a member of a privileged lot, too young for rock'n'roll, too old for punk, a subset of the fabled and fabulously self-absorbed babyboomer generation.
