Troubles with roubles

First published in Column 8, on the 4^th August, 1993

Newspapers are a great source of education. I had time to read a newspaper more thoroughly last week and discovered informative facts, and fictions, on nearly every page.

That day, the Russians had troubles with roubles. The Central Russian Bank decided to dabble with the money bubble and gobble up pre-1993 roubles. This nobbled people’s savings, causing a scrabble for new money. The banks quibblingly closed for ‘technical reasons.’

Many elderly wound up with barely a nibble; they hobbled to the banks to exchange their old roubles – paid out the previous week in their pensions – for a maximum sum amounting to the equivalent of NZ$64. This reduced them to quivering blobbles.

Why the rabble didn’t reduce the banks – or better still, the government – to rubble, I don’t know.

This time the West didn’t get the blame. A couple of years ago, when a similar thing happened, the cause was a ‘Western financial plot.’ (I thought, at first, that was the part of a cemetery where you bury a paid-up corpse.)

Plainly the Russian government still has a blind spot when it comes to the people – a bit like one or two of our own parliamentarians – but I’ve vowed not to give parliamentarians any more free publicity this month.

Talking of blind spots, I discovered that a blind electric ray can give you a nasty shock if you meet each other in the sea.

I quote: ‘The ray’s ‘electric organs are composed of specialised cells called electrocytes.’ (Not electrolytes – those hang from the ceiling.) ‘These are wafer thin, hexagonal and arranged in stacks of 450 plates.’ (These fish would make good waiters.) ‘There can be several thousand of these columns, each composed of 450 electrocytes.’(Reminds me of Steve Parr’s dishwashing ad.)

In spite of its blindness the ray electro-sights its prey with ease. What I want to know is why when the ray lights up in water it doesn’t electrocute itself.

Talking of blind spots, I noted the continuing saga of the Christchurch Polytechnic nursing course, and its cultural problems. I like what one local nurse said, ‘We’ve bred a bit of a monster. It’s cultural fascism creeping in where you can’t afford to have different views. It’s almost like because of the wrong in the past we have to try and make up for it. Where has our freedom of speech gone?’

Where indeed?

The answer to her last question is that free speech has drowned in the sea of political correctness. Yes, we Caucasians have done a lot wrong, and yes, we have a lot of ground to make up. But the cultural content of this nursing course has the bad breath of indoctrination in its mouth.

Perhaps we need to park the Treaty of Waitangi back in the history books where it belongs. Then, in accordance with our current marketplace-type thinking, we could negotiate a new, contemporary contract.

A contract that doesn’t squabble over different interpretations, and one which, in raising the status of the minority, doesn’t have to put down the majority. Or cause them to doublespeak.

My son has been investigating cultures for school. We have icecream tubs perched around the house containing moulding of bread. Seeing the process of culture at home I hope, if I’m in hospital, that the nurse will treat me as a human being first, and a culture second.

Finally, I learned a new word from my newspaper reading: vexillologist (requires careful spelling – and pronouncing!). A vexillologist is a flag fan.

I’ve been indulging in some vexillology – flag waving – in the above paragraphs.

I guess you shouldn’t get vexed when vexillating.

 

Electric ray Narke capensis

Photo courtesy of Peter Southwood

 

See more about Steve Parr here. Unfortunately I can’t find the particular ad I mentioned.

For ‘political correctness’ read ‘woke,’ a word easier to remember than a phrase, and with so little real meaning that it can take hold of anything and make a problem out of.