There's a file in Truth's Wellington Offices marked "The Story To End All Stories." When exactly Truth proposes to publish it, we have no idea. (Perhaps when New Zealanders decide that having sex is more fun than reading about it). Anyway, freelance reporter W. Keith managed to photograph the contents of the Tsteas file last week so Now it Can be Told:

Red Pope (38-48-58) Backs Birch & Pill

Male stripper and Scientologist, Peter Thomas Smith, whose name was withheld by the Court, slid between the warm sheets of hi-acking murderess Shani La Rue's bed following a night of orgy and brutality. "I'm still a virgin," claimed Miss La Rue to a jury of eight, led by NZ-born Peeping Tom "we-were-shocked-and-amazed" Jones. Miss La Rue went on to tell how, when she was sixteen, her balding migrant banned-by-Aussies father had bound her to a brass bedstead and, clad only in army socks and puce suspenders, ridden round her on a tricycle until she "went mad with desire".

Roger La Rue, the girl's father, later gave evidence. His forty-seven years of debauchery showed on his lined, puffy face. "I am a victim of my own sins and a rugby-less life," he pleased, and asked that his roles in the famed Vice Exposure Deal and the Poison Pill Ploy be taken into consideration. "I did it all because of Truth's campaign for support for the police" (La Rue then showed the Court a small silver swastika he was wearing round his neck). "New Zealanders want to know the until," he said. I have been molested by a nocturnal visitor and had my toilet meetings interrupted. I have even had my face gashed by bottle louts and Would like to see the hoses turned on them and the point dogs let loose. As an average citizen, tax-payer and third party in the Love-Loft scandal, I can say with some authority that the birch is preferable to the lash. Nothing's been the same since illicit love forced up beer prices."

Later, when Smith's flat was visited by a Police Inspector named Fred Anderson (no relation) and Invcrcargill's fetish-mogul sex-change swinging Bishop, the walls of the flat were found to be papered in stolen panties. The Inspector remarked that it called to mind tin Case of Porirua's Mad Axeman and Basher, and that Thug Cancer and Secret Love Potions were making NZ rile for a new Hotel Probe. Appearing that evening on television, Smith said he was now giving music lessons which usually ended in bed, and that he was organising a porno march down Queen Street in support of Auckland's chief Lurker ("He lurks so beautifully") who was standing for parliament.

"And," Smith is reported to have added later to a member of what is believed to have been tin NZBC, "if they don't like it here why don't they go home?"

The Whole World Watches-A Cock Special.

Reviewed by K.L. Bullock.

Don't allow yourself to be put off by the bombast and inaccuracy of the title. Go down to the sub-title "A Record of Wellington Protests against the All Black Tour Thursday, Friday, Saturday, June 11, 12, 13, 1970" which sounds like sober history. Read this, and you'll get a good, factual, only slightly feverish account of what happened on those three days. You'll have difficulty in believing it, but it's well documented with photographs. Several people wrote the accounts, onlookers as well as participants, and there's an inside story. (Alister Taylor describes a night in the cells). It's sensational, but not gutter. It makes the hair stand on end. And the sooner it passes into history the better. I'm an optimist—I think once people know the way the police behave the protesters (and to ordinary crooks too, no doubt) something will be done about it.

The Whole World Watches was a rush job. More careful editing might have tidied up a few things, like occasional repetitions and lapses in coherence. All relevant photographs seem to have been included, though some are so murky they defy interpretation, and others seemingly meaningless in spite of lengthy captions. (But someone said a picture was worth a hundred words, so don't let's begrudge these a mere twenty-five or so.)

But in general the photographs are as horrifying as the text. Some we have seen in bowdlerised form in the dailies, and there are some no newspaper would dare print. Any police apologist would have a hard job explaining them away. And I am full of admiration for the men and women who risked (and in some cases incurred) pain and humiliation to get them. (And preserve them good old Alister again).

What I didn't like about The Whole World Watches was a tendency to sacrifice straight reporting to cult emotionalism. The Rugby Union is racist instead of wooden-headed, and the reporter, not content with having an inspector use his fists, has to make him use his fists "to demonstrate his potency." Someone else fell good even though they could not slop the plane from flying: "It was the strength of being morally right even if you were powerless to prevent events," Cultism rears its head in the adulatory tone of "Shadbolt in Court", (What was the point of running after the plane, anyway just to add another laurel to his martyr's crown?)

And then there was the picture of some of the arrestees, with the caption "Do these people look like criminals?" Well, to me some of them looked remarkably like Manson. And there's something too conventional about a protest movement that can report "He wasn't part of the demonstration, was respectably dressed with shorts, white shirt and tie."

Congratulations, Cock. Expose a few more abuses in this masterly fashion and you'll make protest self-terminating, instead of a way of life.