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August 11, 2008 | by  | in Opinion |
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John Keys’ Obituary

Sometimes when the night time sky isn’t besieged by cloud and the moon is in its seventh phase with Jupiter aligning with Mars, the gentle sweep of a shooting star across the rim of the horizon heralds the rising of a peculiar looking constellation.

Astronomers would have you believe that this event is in fact an astrological falsity sourced from the minds of the derelicts and hapless no-hopers that insist upon Pluto’s status as a planet, Mars being the bringer of war and Jason Gunn’s status as anything other than an unconvincing android sent from the future just to piss us off. It is in their interests to spread this filth like marmite across the great unwashed woolly blanket of the heavens, befouling the beautiful tapestry of stars canoodling in the sky shaped like the moustache that adorned his benevolent face. For you see, friends, it isn’t a falsity at all – it is the constellation “Johniskeysious,” the celestial body’s way of telling us that beloved philanthropist, self-styled miracle worker and fan of children’s laughter – John Keys – is in heaven.

John Archimedes Keys was brutally taken from us late in July by a cabal of heartless internet bandits in an attempt to quash his message of love, peace and loving peace. Details surrounding the famed New Zealand inventorcum- politician’s untimely demise have been sparse, with many particulars coming from the Smouldering Pit of Rumour situated somewhere near the Decadent Hole of Half-Truths and the Old Government Buildings.

Some believe that Keys was the victim of his own fame, collapsing in on himself like a neutron star and exploding in a phantasmagoria of neon hearts and dreams across the mindscape of the New Zealand zeitgeist. Others are more sceptical, believing the man responsible for saying, “The keys to the door of my heart are hidden inside the gumboot in the garage next to the Falcon— ahhh, gotcha! Like I would ever own a Falcon, BUMCHUMALUMED!” offended the fragile sensibilities of a single, violent cohort who took it upon himself to assassinate the gentle giant of New Zealand politics.

And he was gentle – incredibly gentle. John Keys, like his predecessors Don Brashed and Jenno Zipley, was a fun-loving sparkler and a never-ending font of joy. His West End gala parties were enjoyed by all, with proceeds from the compulsory $20 entry fee going to charity – or oftentimes, as the case was, a group of kids from South Auckland who looked “like poorness.” Anyone who had the rare privilege of attending would find himself or herself stranded without words to describe the decorative genius of the late Keys, impressed by the way he would throw a couple of strings of Christmas lights over his 500ft money tower adorned with a giant dollar sign and initiate the “getting of down”.

Party member and friend Bill England would recall the way he would marvel at the display in a way befitting a five-year-old child’s reaction to a cow giving birth. John Keys would, without fail, reply by gently draping his long, muscular arm (robot hands and all) over his shoulder and sweetly whispering into his ear, “The rain falls hard on a humdrum town. This town has dragged you down. Oh, no, and everybody’s got to live their life. And God knows I’ve got to live mine – God knows I’ve got to live mine. William, William it was really nothing.” Such was his gentle way with words.

While the wind and rain may whip unforgivably at your door as winter draws to its inevitable close, the winter of our discontent rages on, lashing at the windows of our hearts and minds. Once upon a time, the moustachioed face of John Keys would peer in through that window and watch as the children played, day and night, without need for a break. In wash of New Zealand politics, the question must be asked: who will stare at the kids through the window now? Hopefully, for John Keys’ sake, someone with a heart the size of Mt. Eden prison. Ka kite ano, John Keys. We will always love you.

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Kia ora, biography box, kia ora.

Comments (7)

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  1. Jackson Wood says:

    Oh how I cried when he died.

  2. Michael Oliver says:

    The tears are still falling, like shooting stars across Johniskeysious…

  3. Jackson Wood says:

    For those of you who don’t get this in joke… visit this facebook page.

    http://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Keys-In-Memoriam/22596993099?ref=mf

  4. Michael Oliver says:

    TAKEN from us! Our right to mourn was TAKEN! This is tantamount to Facebook unbuttoning its fly at John Keys’ elaborate twelve-foot-tall tombstone and pissing, just pissing all over it.

  5. Jackson Wood says:

    Facebook took down the page again, so we’ve relocated to this address http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/group.php?gid=27853371649

    Long live John Keys!

  6. The "It's not worth it, eh" guy from that ad says:

    John Keys was my hero, and I love him so much, why did he have to die……….

  7. Dr. Peter Manglethwaite says:

    John Keys was a man of morals and supreme intellect. I remember watching him on the podium delivering his acceptance speech upon winning the New Zealander of the decade award. I remember his voice, crystal clear, saying “… and I didn’t realise my fly was undone and my wanger was hanging out till Judy Bailey told me I had dropped a sausage on my trousers. What an embarrassing thing to happen at the school gala. So it is to her I would like to dedicate this award.”

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