This is not a prediction

Husband-and-wife comedians and commentators Michele A’Court and Jeremy Elwood share their views.

Iam writing this in that gentle lull between polling day and the final result. It won’t have felt calm and floaty to the parties involved, I’m sure – quick shout out to everyone who has had to dial Winston’s number since September 23.

But I’ve quite enjoyed this caretaker-government-limbo after the frantic polling and predictions in the weeks before. There’s something oddly comforting about not knowing who we have elected as prime minister as the sun continues to rise each day.

It is likely that by the time you read this, the whole bloody thing will have been sorted. This leaves me entirely free to write – not a prediction – but a description of how I would have loved it to play out.

Since election night, my fingers have been loosely crossed for a brief National/NZ First coalition. (Not the National/Green Teal scenario which seemed as likely to me as a National/ Labour coalition, given their lack of compatible policies and world views. Though purple is a lovely colour.)

Blue/black, the colour of squid ink. Indiscernible flash of yellow at the edge provided by Act, not enough to affect the hue. Winston gifted Foreign Affairs – a dignified portfolio for a man in the autumn of his political life, plus it gets him out of town. Not for the first time, we can ponder the irony of having a Foreign Minister who doesn’t actually like foreigners.

Snap election inside 18 months. Partly because the push for change will get stronger, not weaker; partly because Winston will be Winston, and Joyce, Bennett and Collins will continue to be themselves, too. Picture it. The Greens get to regroup and refresh, and we all get to vote again before we’ve had time to forget how MMP works. A progressive government romps in with support from revivified minor parties such as Māori and Mana.

Meanwhile, Jacinda should get pregnant immediately. (Though only if that’s what she wants.) With twins. (Serving suggestion only.) They’ll almost be walking by the time the snap election is called and all those tedious “you can’t take parental leave when you’re the rime minister” whiners can shut their faces and go stand in a corner with all the “how can a woman have a career and a family” whingers. And while standing in the corner, they will all be forced to read endless research evidence on the benefits to everyone of genuine co-parenting.

After which, all Members of Parliament will be welcome to have as many children as they like up to or even exceeding the number of kids Bill English had during his parliamentary career, leading to general agreement that it is totally fine for women of child-bearing age to be in charge of things like countries.

Hopefully – but not certainly – by the time you read this, you will know what our government looks like. There have been hundreds of column inches written about possible outcomes, so I won’t add to them here, because not one word will have made any difference and I don’t know any more about the negotiations than you do.

What I do know, though, because it began well before the votes had been fully counted, is that almost every party will claim a victory of sorts, regardless of the reality of their situation. So here is my non-prediction of how everyone will be feeling this morning, three weeks removed from the confetti or condolences.

National came out as the biggest single party, with the highest party vote. That’s a win whichever way you look at it, but for Bill English there is the added satisfaction of avoiding making unwelcome history – has there ever been a party leader, anywhere, who has lost separate elections 15 years apart? There must have been a few ghosts laid to rest that night, regardless of his job status today.

For Labour, this was an election that Jacinda Ardern was never going to lose. Not really. In only eight weeks she took them from the brink of parliamentary extinction to powerful opposition force. If she had actually won it would have been a miracle, but unexpected silver is still something to cherish. She now has three years (probably: see Michele’s piece) to get ready to fight again, something a bunch of guys called David could only have dreamt of.

The Greens won’t let the truth that they did far worse than they were expected to, pre-Metiria, get in the way of a good story. They’ll keep banging on about how they represent youth, diversity and a desire for change, and the fact that they’re probably right won’t make them any less annoying to listen to.

Gareth Morgan said throughout his campaign that TOP didn’t want to be in Parliament, so mission accomplished there.

Even David Seymour will likely be relishing his new role as ACT’s lone cowboy or outlaw, depending on which hat he feels like pulling out of his dress-up box on any given day.

The Māori Party took their defeat on the chin, so they can at least claim a victory for dignity.

And then there’s Winston. Like Jake La Motta in Raging Bull, or the chorus of that Chumbawamba song (I get knocked down / But

I get up again) he, as he has done so many times before, has risen up to stand all conquering over our election landscape. If this turns out to be his last campaign, he’s gone out on top.

Look upon his works, ye mighty, and despair.