The Diaries of a Sozzled Scribbler #11
Transcribed by DMETRI KAKMI
15 June 2020
Further to my highly influential interviews with world leaders (which have become the talk of the planet), this month I peek into the mind of Jacinta Ardern, Prime Minister of New Zealand and all round goody two shoes. We met at the base of the White Island volcano where she lives in a luxury cave, overseen by four burly Maori bodyguards.
S.S: Jazlyn, did you you just throw a baby in the volcano?
J.A: It’s Jacinta. And no, I did not throw a baby in the volcano.
S.S: That’s a shame. We might need to toss in a couple of toddlers to appease Ruamoko. Or just for fun.
J.A: I think we’re okay.
S.S: Are you a witch from Mordor? Is that why earthquakes follow you around?
J.A: I am not a witch and I do not cause earthquakes.
S.S: What about the devastating earthquake that happened a few weeks ago while you sat smiling in a radio studio?
J.A: A geological fault line runs almost through the entire length of New Zealand. Earthquakes happen all the time.
S.S: Ruamoko is punishing you.
J.A: I don’t think so.
S.S: It’s a well known fact that New Zealand belonged to hobbits before white people arrived from England. How many hobbits did the imperialist colonialists kill during the genocide?
J.A: There is not such thing as a hobbit. Aotearoa was occupied by the proud Maori peoples, and they are still here.
S.S: What about Hobbiton? It’s deserted, forlorn, after the mass slaughter of its entire population of teeny weeny little men with big hairy feet. You can’t hide behind your white privilege, madam.
J.A: Hobbiton was a movie set created by Peter Jackson for his film. It’s now a tourist attraction. No one lives there.
S.S: I think we can add cultural appropriation to accusations of genocide. Your track record is not looking good. You might be the Aung San Suu Kyi of the southern hemisphere.
J.A: I’m a decent human being who cares about other people, no matter who they are and where they come from.
S.S: Oh, please, stop. I’m going to vomit. Quick bring a bucket. Everyone knows you’re tough as nails. You were trained by Xena, warrior princess.
J.A: Another fiction.
S.S: Tell that to Lucy Lawless. She lives down the road. Are you a lesbian?
J.A: What? No. Lucy Lawless is an actress who played Xena. She is not a lesbian. And neither am I.
S.S: A closeted homophobe as well as a genocidal maniac who appropriates cultures. Oh, dear, your halo is beginning to slip Janelle. I’m sure the world will be shocked when they find out who you really are under that nice mask.
J.A: Listen, I’m better than the arseholes that run Australia any day.
S.S: Need I remind you that New Zealand is an Australian state. We let you think you’re an independent country for our amusement.
J.A: In that case you can take the refugees that are coming to New Zealand from your concentration camps.
S.S: Don’t get angry, Jonquil. You may need anger management classes. Now, back to my hard-hitting questions. You are this country’s 40th prime minister and the first woman to occupy the position—
J.A: Who does your research? Helen Clark was prime minister in 1999. And before her there was Jenny—
S.S: Yes, but Helen Clark was rather mannish. I think she may have been one of those transgender person things, whatever they’re called. So we can safely ignore them. Jenny Shipley had very short hair, you will recall, and you know what they say about women with short hair. Xena types, if you know what I mean. You’re at least somewhat attractive, except for your teeth, which could do with a bit of work, by the way. Do something with your hair too, while you’re at it. It’s a bit limp and lifeless…
J.A: Are you a beautician or a journalist? I’m busy, you know.
S.S: Doing what exactly? Vacuuming the house, cooking for your children, annihilating Bilbo Baggins…?
J.A: Has anyone ever told you you are sexist?
S.S: Sexy? Me? Yes, I hear it all the time. Why just the other day a big movie producer said to me—
J.A: Sexist. As in sexist pig.
S.S: I heard you the first time, dear girl. I was indeed blessed with looks far beyond those of mere mortals. But I should tell you flattery does not work on me. I remain always dedicated to a higher truth!
J.A: What, truth for sexist pigs?
S.S: Now, now, Jamila, you can’t eat pig when you’re a Muslim.
J. A: It’s Jacinta!!!!
S.S: Oh, dear, she used multiple exclamation marks. It’s tres tres vulgaire.
J.A: And I’m not Muslim.
S.S: Why, what’s wrong with Muslims?
J.A: Nothing’s wrong with Muslims. I’m just saying I’m not one.
S.S: Then why did you cover your head and hug a Muslim woman in a mosque?
J.A: Because a dickhead from Australia shot ‘em up, that’s why, you mad man.
S.S: Oh, dear, she’s having a hissy fit. I hate to tell you this, Jodrele, but the newspaper headlines aren’t looking good for you. ‘NZ PM Blows Top and Causes Yet Another Massive Earthquake.’
J.A: [Stomps off.] Bodyguards, throw this idiot in the volcano.
S.S: [Running from guards.] Help, I’m innocent. I was just doing my job. Thank you for your time, Jaylah. See, I’m being nice to your boss. Leave me alone.
‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ he screamed as he plummeted into the volcano. But at least he used only one exclamation mark.
Until next we meet. Cheerio!
The Sozzled Scribbler was born in the shadow of the Erechtheion in Athens, Greece, to an Egyptian street walker (his father) and a Greek bear wrestler (his mother). He has lived in Istanbul, Rome, London, New Orleans and is currently stateless. He partakes of four bottles of Bombay gin and nine packets of Gauloises cigarettes a day.
Dmetri Kakmi, is a writer and editor. His first book Mother Land was shortlisted for the New South Wales Premier’s Literary Awards in Australia, and his new book The Door will be released in September 2020.