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August 10, 2009 | by  | in Opinion |
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Auckland is burning so Die! Die! Die!

sando

New Zealand, much like its obese and sweaty sister nation Australia, is somewhat hard to get to. However, Australia somehow does manage to get much “performative action”. Indeed, bands from all over the globe drop down for a litle frisky fun time with Oz. As while she is a little broad in the beam and generally unappealing, she’s a really generous lover who will go to the erotic extremes of audience pleasurability that is simply unheard of in the northern hemisphere. Contrastingly, we are the lisping and slightly hairy sister with the thyroid problem who awkwardly fondles herself behind the couch while Oz has herself a time. Occasionally performers will notice us and give us a pity fuck in the fleshy mound that is Wellington, though more often it is just the oral satisfaction given by Auckland. That’s why I went up to Auckland—to watch the Cirque Du Solei molest the oral orifice found north of the Bombay Hills. My defacto partner or “Def-po” and the Def-Po in-laws came up too, and spent unbearable hours sitting next to me as I wrangled my molestatible metaphorics… and played Pokémon Platinum. It was a long train journey.

So, the Cirque Du Solei performance that I traveled toward is called Dralion. It’s about a half-dragon half-lion and the four-way battle between the elemental nations of Earth to control its powerful bhudda nature. Or something, look, it was big flashy and had a ballet done on light bulbs, it could have been about a laboradoodle that farted the cure for cancer and I’d still have been willing to watch it a second or third time. The circus has been on tour for eleven years, so it was fairly obvious that we were low on their list of places to visit. No matter says I, as I greatly enjoyed the performances, and even if they were just phoning it in (which was doubtful, Kiwi audiences are quite hard to generate feedback—the life blood of performance—from), eleven years of the same schtick makes for a tight show. Just ask Anthony Keidis of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers ‘Hayo; listen what I sayo’. Indeed Tony, indeed. So, while I was wrapped in the Cirque’s French Canadian embrace the female Def-Po in law was weeping her way through the performance. I think she was scared by the the female lead vocalist who kept screeching down from the rafters like some sort of sentient cobweb, ready to tangle you in the threads of long murdered spiders and then mind meld with you or some such.

Now I did other things in the City of Sails too: Like one day I went and watched tourists make commerative pennies of the Sky tower for $2 a pop. Now, I don’t know about you, but for two dollars I’d expect like twenty pennies, right? Man, the Sky Tower is an unfathomable eyesore, isn’t it? Well, not so much from a distance, when it looks like a giant strap-on with glistening neon veins, just standing ready to peg the sky. (Because the sky is a dude in Maori mythology?) It’s the inside that pisses me off, as it’s barren concrete and the windows to look outside of the damn thing are dingy and dirty. What’s the point of being high up in the tourist trappingist place in New Zealand when all you can see is some greasy smear that’s been there so long that it’s accumulated its own layer of greasy detritus? Thankfully the Sky Tower’s revolving restauraunt was well maintained and had beautiful views. My partner only threw up thrice from rotational motion sickness, which worked out to be once a course, but I wouldn’t blame the food. That was top notch fine dining. The chips were just excellent.

To me, going to Auckland wasn’t just about people watching—do not get me wrong, sister—first and foremost it was about watching those wonderous freaks manipulate their bodies in the circus, but then it was about finding ways to piss around with animals. So, Kelly Tarlton’s Antarctic Encounter and Undersea World, the Auckland Zoo, and butterfly house-cum-petting zoo-cum-lizard hutch Butterfly Creek were all must sees. Did you know that Kelly Tarlton’s does stingray encounters? Essentially you wade out and jam chunks of fish into the gaping maws of couch-sized female stingrays. Tarlton’s doesn’t keep males as the aquarium is sexist. Oh and male stingrays have razor sharp vampiric fangs, but it’s mainly the sexism. At Auckland Zoo, I managed to convince a parrot to land on my finger by finding one of the food cups the keepers had lazily left lying around and letting it keep eating like a champion. The apathetic animal handling of New Zealand’s greatest zoo worked well for me there, yes it did. Now Butterfly Creek claims that it is “Australasia’s Premiere Butterfly House”, but you know, the butterfly area was adequate at best. The best bit was the live aligator fondling. You see, there were these tiny alligators that they are growing for some sort of bizarre petting ritual, but wow, fondling those alien intellects made me forget I was subjugating an intelligent undomesticated species to an unnatural life outside its original environment, and instead let me experience a oneway bonding experience with El Legarto. It was really special. Oh also, Butterfly Creek’s tame goose attacked the female Def-po in-law and gave her a huge bleeding welt. That’ll teach her for thinking that geese would like food pellets. Who did she think she was? Animal Ghandi?

I guess what I am trying to say is this: Look, just fuck you Tony Keidus. Mr Bungle was a far superior band to your Chilli Peppers and you effectively ended them like Queen Latifa effectively ends cupcakes. I don’t know why I find her so attractive. Wait, fat, dark-skinned women… Rosita Vae… West Auckland… Auckland. Auckland is a city that was birthed by successive booms in land speculation resulting in a town the size of London for no legitimate reason. This aparantly makes it the best place in New Zealand, so I must strongly suggest moving there for keeps. Obviously, if I could I would, but umm… I kind of thought it was a bit shit?

THE POSITIVE INFOBOX

5 things that were neat in Auckland

  1. Spookers – it’s a house haunted by awesome.
  2. The Classic – it’s the home of comedy in New Zealand
  3. Waitakere – the city all of New Zealand should aspire to be like
  4. Cheap buses, 50c for a trip. Seriously, Tranzmetro is gouging us people.
  5. A healthy pan asian subculture that gave me some of the best Korean, Chinese and Japanese food that I have had in this country. Also, cute fashionable asian students were everywhere. God I love bangs on a young man.
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About the Author ()

Nic Sando is a god amongst men, fifteen fathoms high he be, with strange and wyrd powers at his disposal. Only a fool won't harken his ears to the east when he hears The Sando man stumping his way. http://thesando.com

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