Topics of The Times

Otago Daily Times, Issue 26197, 6 July 1946, Page 6

Topics of The Times

by Hydra

In the general decline in the use of the language, to which we have had occasion to refer more than once in this column, nothing has gone down the hill faster or farther than the highly-specialised art of repartee, especially in politics. Time was when it was common enough to hear flashes of quick wit in public speaking, no less than in private conversation, but nowadays, for some reason we can’t name, but it is probably the Government’s fault, one comes across this but rarely. What prompts these reflections, incidentally, is a report of the meeting of the Dunedin City Council this week, when one member called another “ the uncrowned king of sly digs.” ana the best the latter could think of in reply was to hurl back the gage, second-hand. as it were, by calling his accuser a “past-master of sly digs.” Just what is the difference between an uncrowned king and a past-master we don’t care to say, but neither remark, we feel, is overburdened with subtlety, nor do they indicate either the wit or the command of the language that we should be entitled to expect in the elected leaders of the community.

Things were not always thus in Otago, of course. In his book on the early days of Central Otago, Robert Gilkison records how Captain Jackson Barry, the Mayor of Cromwell, who had a difference with another member, knocked him down and then threw him out of the window of the council chamber. But that happened in more vigorous days, when the spirit of our people, like the country, was less civilised. Maybe the gallant captain was inclined to carry things a little too far, but even though there was a lack of subtlety in his methods of handling his council, there was nothing indecisive about them. And, many years later, he is still remembered, which, after all, is the real test. Nevertheless, •we hardly suggest the introduction' of such methods nowadays. We have no doubt that, if the Mayor of Dunedin were to throw one of his councillors out of the window, he also would achieve more than a passing fame, especially as there is a sizeable drop to the footpath 'below the council chamber, but while there would undoubtedly be a vacancy on the council as a result, it is also a fairly safe bet that, under the restrictive laws of to-day, we would be choosing a new Mayor at the same byelection.

Violence, then, is ruled out, so we return to our original suggestion that a little more subtlety in our public speakers would be all to the good. But, first of all, the public must be prepared, we feel, because any sudden change in this direction would be so revolutionary that the shock would be too great; either that or it would never be noticed by people so long accustomed to the sledge hammer as the symbol of subtlety. On a recent public occasion in Dunedin a Minister of the Crown made several references to the weather during his speech. Each time he smirked a little, paused expectantly, and was not disappointed; the audience rose to the bait and laughed. Not that he had said anything funny—there isn’t anything terribly funny to say about the Dunedin weather—but, being an experienced platform man, he knew that, for want of something better, the weather was always good for a laugh. And so long as the public continues to laugh at the old, worn-out weather jokes and all the other chestnuts in the same category, so long will it get them. What we deserve we receive, an Oriental philosopher once said, and we are inclined to think that he had something there.

Harking back to the Boys from Bikini (“Up Guards and Atom”), a correspondent draws attention to an Associated Press report that

“ The goats which survived the blast had been especially trained in nonchalance at Cornell Univer-

sity, where they were taught to ignore sudden noise or motion.” This, he says, is another triumph for the American system of co-education, but he includes the further report that the atom bomb clouds had a peculiar smell, so maybe some of the goats hadn’t quite graduated in nonchalance.

Butter, we dare say, would be as good as anything else for the Government to slide out of office on.