Bottom of the Week

Decline and Fall

History should never be forgotten. In the light of this profound sentiment three new National Parks have been secured for our country. Posterity stands to gain much by the preservation of an integral part of our heritage. Citizens are free to wander within the Parks but are warned to beware of noxious flora. The fascinating carcases for which these areas are renowned are to be be left intact in the interests of science and society. The new Parks, to be known collectively as the Metropolitan Preserve, are situated in the areas previously known as Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch cities.

The decline and fall of the cities began in the twilight of the seventies when the nation's petroleum reserves started to evaporate. "Carless Days" ran the cryptic headlines. In the true spirit of Kiwi solidarity Monday was the choice of all. Thus the four day week began. Regrettably the sacrifice proved to be insufficient. More stringent measures were needed.

A total ban on Sunday driving was announced; New Zealand now could indeed be considered closed on the Sabbath. Mass hysteria broke out in the Church at this sacriligious and profane act of impiety. God would suffer no sanctions. In an effort to vindicate their faith the clergy embarked on a series of 'religious conversions'. Small bands of Priests, Ministers and Vicars rustled vehicles with which they proceeded to 'drive their flocks' to the pews.

An equally cherished institution, the Sunday afternoon drive became threatened with extinction. Always conscious of their responsibility however, TV 1 launched a programme of simulated Sunday drives in the afternoon slot. Families could enjoy a good outing without the anguish and frustration inherent in a relaxing drive. Scandalously, TV2 plagiarized; he idea but showed the drives at 50kph faster than their rivals, thereby adding a whole new dimension to the previously staid and sedate affair.

'Restricted Consumption' said the newspapers: "We are scrapping the bottom of the barrel," "five gallons a week". The proclamation precipitated outbursts of incredible and unusual phenomena, later known as irrational behaviour. Respectable citizens were to be seen furtively lurking in curious places and at dubious hours of the night, sections of hosepipe in hand. As in all times of crisis our latent British temperament asserted itself. People queued for hours outside parking buildings clutching spurious watering cans in an effort to get their fair share. Hospitals were beseiged by a new sickness surprisingly linked to petrol consumption. Cars prowled for miles to find open garages; it was their "democratic right' they said. Fashion changed overnight. The mini was in.

As the end came in sight people made a concerted effort to see all before it was too late. The average bloke was driven to a frenzy, with wife and kids he hit the road. Cars crisscrossed the nation. New towns were discovered. The hoards converged on the West Coast. It might never be seen again. At all night showings of American Graffitti whole audiences burst into tears.

But they need not have despaired. Out of the confusion appeared Canine. The only law of Canesian theory: the survival of the fittest. The people ran for their lives.....

Richard Riddiford and Lewis Holden