Sharkboy, Squidward in a race to the bottom

There is a Ma¯ ori whakataukı¯ (proverb) urging people to die like the shark, not like the octopus. I think it means you should go down with your teeth bared, not in a quivering mess. Kaua e mate wheke, mate ururoa. I know Simon Bridges and Jami-Lee Ross are going down fighting, but it is tough to figure out which, if either, is the creature with bones. What I do know looking on from the sidelines is that both appear to be dying; and nobody should go into the Great Hereafter with the oily taste of their own or Jami-Lee Ross’ ink in their mouth.

Simon, you should have listened to me.

In a previous column I argued that the leader of the Opposition ought to quit politics and learn te reo – the language of his ancestors. I’m guessing it would be an incredibly valuable journey – based on my personal experiences, and the experiences of those around me.

Sadly, it appears time is proving me right: he should have quit. But despite the furious, bitter and humiliating nature of his fight, I don’t think Bridges will unclench his suction cups and jet the hell away to personal fulfilment. In fact, it is the most bizarre thing, but Bridges’ fulfilment, and presumably Ross’, appear to come from the political life they are currently living. Even though, while they fight each other they are not actually fighting for air. They’re just sinking.

To me the fatal blow was the release of the recording of their conversation. Even if it doesn’t directly implicate Bridges in any illegal shenanigans, it was a distasteful – and poisonously humanising – look under the rock. Ahh, the ‘h’ word. I know a lot of people have been saying the call humanised Bridges: as though, for example, bad-mouthing other Nat MPs was just Bridges being like the rest of us.

Sadly, most politicians cannot afford to publicly be humans. The life dedicated to national politics demands they speak about how good they are and how bad their political opponents are. They spend loads of time – and money by the $100k-load – polishing up this lie. Bridges failed at being nonhuman. And the worst part is that like the rest of us his humanity was so mundanely bad. Surely you are politically dead when people come away from hearing the real you and all they can say is ‘eww’ with a small ‘e’.

It might have been better for Bridges if he’d been caught saying something really weird. Instead he looks like the guy jogging in front of you on the footpath who doesn’t know you’re there and loudly passes wind. I mean, what do you say to him? Anything? Do you move past pretending like nothing happened? What I can guarantee is that you’re probably not voting for him in national elections out of sheer embarrassment.

Some politicians can openly live the garbage life through charisma or by spouting powerful-enough bigotry. Bridges isn’t charismatically inclined, and Kiwis are too laidback to be as vigorously bigoted as, say, the Americans. So Bridges has few options except to give 110 per cent kissing babies and fighting for photo opportunities and err, fundraising plenty of cash for campaigning.

If by some miracle he survives as leader through this mess to the next election, then he must pray for victory. Imagine losing so much, but then really losing everything.

Which brings me to the moral of this story, and the lesson we can take away from the tale of fighting animals.

At what point do we let go of the life that we think we want, and do what is really right for us? I know I was being tongue-in-cheek with my column, suggesting Bridges chuck it all in and study te reo. But, also, I wasn’t. We can look at the disasters in other people’s lives and laugh and think about how that could never happen to us.

Half the time we don’t understand that the worst disasters aren’t the ones that happen quickly and noticeably. They are the slow landslides, the glacial misfortunes, the rotten luck that plays out in months and years, not hours and minutes.

The big problem isn’t the tornado, it’s the halfdegree rise in the world’s temperature that you can’t even feel. You were busy solving the crossword when your train quietly switched onto the wrong tracks.

Don’t let it happen. I said it then and I say it now, and I’ll say it again. If you are Ma¯ ori – or even if you ain’t – and if you want to fill that void, then you should look for ways to learn te reo fulltime for at least a year. Don’t put it off for other things, and don’t wait too long.

I think what I’m saying is don’t be a Simon or a Jami-Lee. Especially if you are Simon and JamiLee.

It’s one thing not to die like the octopus but for God’s sake don’t live like one too.

Surely you are politically dead when people come away from hearing the real you and all they can say is ‘eww’ with a small ‘e’.