I knew it was a conspiracy from the moment John Key put his greasy capitalist money grubbing hands on the pony tail of the comrade-ess sweating blood in the coffee mines of Parnell, carrying food to the elitist swine, oinking and grunting as their snouts swilled at trough. I have been sacked from this column – yes me, the most honest business writer (with a political chaser); the commentator who dares to tell the truth about the fat cats robbing the pay packets of the workers. I am the only scribe who has risked her life to bring the truth to readers on why, in Aotearoa, the gap between the haves and have-nots is widening. As I write this gap has increased by 200 per cent.
But I have been silenced. Shame on those who wield the axe over my words. Censorship is alive and well in this so-called land of freedom of expression and do you know why?
Let me tell you why.
They told me it’s for “financial reasons”: “tightening the belts”, “last one on and all that”. “We love your work but we have to let you go.”
Do they think I’m stupid? (Do you really want me to answer that? - Ed) This is the real story, so listen very carefully because I will only say this once. At Wright Communications this was a mantra.
There’s been a conspiracy to get rid of me since I wrote that story condemning women who want the freedom to slutwalk; to wear anything they damn well like. Well they can’t. I’m a lefty liberal and we say women should look ugly. So everyone who somewhere, somehow is having fun wants me out of here and they have succeeded. They are all tied in it up together – NZ Herald, NZ Government, Murray McCully, Rebecca Kitteridge, Saudi's (yes they are on to me too, I can hear the pips on my phone), John Key, the owners of Rosie’s Café, Rachel Glucina – all these far righters have got together and used a clever diversion of the Conservative Party fiasco meltdown but I’m on to it.
Poor sheep. Poor little lambs, flying all that way and no segregated toilets. (They were all ewes, you twit - Ed) Only one team of vets for the whole plane load. The lambs died (mental note, Sumac Cumin Kofta Keema for dinner tonight – yum) so how is Key to explain that away? He won’t have to now that I won’t be appearing on these pages, the most feared business journalist in New Zealand.
Capitalist scum and their running dog mates. Then there’s the small matter of the TPPA and selling our sovereignty (mental note, must buy some of that cheap Australian wine to go with the Kofta – thanks CER). Do these neo-cons even have a mandate to shove this unwanted, big scary hairy deal on to us? Helen Clark would never have considered something like this.
Maybe I’ll go back to writing a Yummy Mummy blog but do it in GCSB code and it will be all secret squirrel and really be attacking business and be an anti-business column with political chaser. (Maybe not, no vacancy while Hill-Cone still here - Ed)
Failing that, if I mysteriously do not appear on Radio New Zealand’s The Panel (surely you mean The Flannel? - Ed) with Jesse Mulligan (Jesse will just have to tell the listeners yet again that I’m married to Ali Ikram) then order the police to arrest all the VRWC in Dirty Politics for my murder and play Barry McGuire’s “We’re On The Eve of Destruction” at my funeral.
Editor's Note - Dita De Boni is the code-hopper of New Zealand journalism. She has appeared in women’s magazines – with her husband TVNZ reporter Ali Ikram who she loves telling radio listeners she is married to (we can’t imagine why). She hops to television. She hops to anti-business journalism then muddles it with political commentary without checking facts. She hops to lecturing the nation on how.
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