The little dog that ran away…

…pretty well sums up my day…three times I’ve been out in the rain chasing the little ratbag…I didn’t used to worry too much but she has been out on the road a couple of times now…

…she ran away at breakfast time, just in time for a fire call across to Whakapapa Village; got back to confiscate the tunnel and fill in the wooden horse…the next time, I was a little slow with the door bringing in firewood and was almost late – but definitely wet – for my FENZ annual health check; for the trifecta, she bolted past me as I was loading the RARO laptops for a SARTrack training session at the school, putting in an appearance at the gate and being confined – noisy little yap dog – in the back of the truck til I finished fire training – fun with extinguishers – tonight…

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Our movie treat – and it truly was a treat – tonight was Darkest Hour, the lesser known story of Britain’s darkest hour in May 1940 when all appeared lost, the German juggernaut unstoppable and poised to cross the Channel. When surrender, at best, negotiated terms, was entirely on the cards as Britain stood alone…when  the unpopular and anguished Churchill defined the fate of the nation…

I was singularly unimpressed by last year’s Dunkirk; the semi-comedy Finest Hour was more Dunkirk than Dunkirk…Darkest Hour captures that time, with France and the rest of Europe fallen, a disastrous and expensive campaign in Norway that achieved naught when Britain had to chose between standing and falling…

The pivotal underground scene probably never happened, some artistic license around the great man’s occasional habit of delving into the people. I don’t remember it from any of the histories or bios that I have read and we’ll probably never know what brought Churchill to the point of open defiance and the legendary speech that concludes:

…we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.

The full text is on the Churchill Society site, or listen to it:

It’s worth a listen as Churchill describes the collapse of campaign in France. This is indeed mobilising language and sending it into battle, a rare art…

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Little dogs aside, it’s been a good day, a community day…I should have been writing letters and continuing the campaign but after so long, I’m just over it. Someone came up to me in the Village today and said that he used to be in the banking industry and knew a bit about it. He’d read something I had written a couple of days ago (detail hereand just wanted to make sure that he’d understood it. “Here it comes” I thought, “finally the reverse smoking gun from someone who knows that points out an obvious hole in my campaign with ANZ”.

But no, he agreed with me, for personal and commercial lending, disclosure of additional lending to guarantors is expected and required. This is what is so frustrating…giving up and walking away is just not me, even less so when everything I know says that we;re in the right…but how do you poke the bully in the eye hard enough to divert it from its course?

Five years ago, this all started with an ANZ branch manager; now it’s been escalated all the way to the board of ANZ New Zealand Ltd who still intend proceeding on their juggernaut path; who had the gall to suggest that poor ANZ might not be able to recoup all the money it loaned so recklessly; who really don’t seem to get the concept of taking responsibility for their actions, or as leaders, the actions of their subordinates…

They may be trite but the words of Ben Parker still ring so true…

With great power comes great responsibility…

Actually…Voltaire said it first: With great power comes great responsibility.

Others prefer a more-recent attribution, citing Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben in Spiderman.

Winston Churchill said: The price of greatness is responsibility.

But the sentiment rings true…maybe Antonia Watson, David Hisco and their bud son the board need to reflect on that and do the right thing

On not winning…

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Always hating hanging around like a third wheel at open homes, so we  disappear on Sunday mornings…coffees and carrot cake at The Station Cafe today, then off to Taupo for a touch of Stress Induced Shopping Therapy (here on in referred to as SITS)…

Now that I’ve seen it, it’s a little ironic that this chapter of the Marvelverse is about not winning – not really a spoiler as I must be about the last person on the planet not to have seen Infinity War – being brought up on John Wayne and Thunderbirds, it’s always a little hard to accept that the good guys don’t always win…even in real life…

It’s actually quite tough, knowing that this battle is one that I’m probably not going to win. It’s not about being right. I’m pretty confident that I am right – just upgrading to my fourth lawyer and expecting his feedback tomorrow – that’s not arrogance or pollyannaism or bias…it’s the result of years of research, investigation and analysis work and having to present the results of that work to a fairly unforgiving audience…

It would be unpalatable to find the reverse smoking gun that proves me wrong but at least then I could suck it up and move on…but I can’t (find it, that is, not not move on…well, actually I can’t move on because I’m in the right but let’s not get wrapped around that)…the thing is that being right doesn’t always equal winning….

And it’s not really about winning or losing…that’s too black and white…I never wanted to know everything about counter-insurgency but on a dim dark Waiouru day (most Waiouru days and dim and dark) Gandalf aka Chris Parsons set me off on an unexpected journey into the world of COIN…and I still find daily parallels with that journey…

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…that there is no real victory in COIN..not in the sense of VE or VJ days…successful COIN is about a return to normalcy…not the normalcy that some might seek to inflict (certainly not ANZ ‘normal’ last week where it expected me to sympathise with any loss it may incur…) but normalcy for me…little things like being able to come home  and not have to worry about whether I will have a home or not next month; to not have to spend hours and hours researching legal and banking documents; to be able to dedicate time to relationships and hobbies and stuff; even little things like perhaps getting a roomie; not having to worry about the dogs if this goes wobbly(er)…normal’s all most people want…

In fact, the dogs are my biggest worry…Louie will probably rehome easier enough to people with no cats, good fences and who need a walking carpet…Kala Littledog still has a lot of issues to work through…

Not winning will be a new experience, certainly on this scale…with less that a fortnight til the hammer drops (literally), I’m still fighting…no real choice now to ride it on in and see what happens…

It’s just so damn frustrating that ANZ simply won’t man up – can I say that if the key point of decision is a woman? – admit its error and move on into fixing it up. But then, bullies rarely acknowledge their mistakes and just try to bulldoze their way on through and hope they will get away with it…

…and that’s all you are, ANZ, a bully that screwed up and that lacks the moral fibre to front up…