Wearing the Quite Contrary hat, all the news is bad again.
It doesn't get much worse than paralytic botulism in baby food.
Sharemarkets will plunge, sages will mutter mixed-metaphorically about eggs in baskets, and hypochondriacs will start manifesting symptoms.
Looking on the bright side though, breast - being sterile (no dirty pipes involved) and full of natural immunity - is clearly best.
Why are Chinese mothers bottle-feeding anyway? We might be better global citizens if we exported optimal post-natal care information rather than white powder.
Meanwhile, PM John Key ramped up the ripping, boy's-own, GCSB yarn - already action-packed with a cast of Kim Dotcom, Hobbits, spooks, Hollywood moguls, pies, journalists, public servants falling on swords, and Peter Dunne - by claiming al-Qaeda terrorists are lurking in our midst.
Perhaps they're poisoning Fonterra vats as we speak?
Spreading fear is a hoary political strategy, last practised notoriously by former US President George W Bush, using (non-existent) "weapons of mass destruction" to excuse his unlawful military attack on Iraq.
Why push intrusive legislation? Perhaps to comply with the Trans Pacific Trade Agreement currently under negotiation, which appears to require New Zealand to cede sovereignty on data collection as well as on Pharmac's highly successful drug-buying practices.
Apparently, investigative journalists are subversive too. According to the Quite Contrary rulebook, so they jolly well should be.
Donning my "Adventures in the Funky Rei" hat though, Whangarei Art Museum's opening of a Brian Brake photography exhibition was heaps more fun.
A cabal of illustrious museum directors attended, including Te Papa's new chief exec, who happily announced a pioneering programme of sending selected items from the national collection to WAM, for local delectation.
Slim, dapper males in the official party - all resplendent in shiny, chisel-toed winkle-picker shoes - were a study near Brake's image of clearly important, corpulent gentlemen sporting the sartorial conventions of yesteryear.
Whangarei MP Phil Heatley opened the show; late.
His excuse was a touching story about sudden deaths among his family's pet birds.
Part way through, I must have zoned out - possibly into another Brake image, of a man up a rickety ladder working on the ancient stone wall of an Egyptian temple - because when I surfaced, Heatley seemed to be claiming his lateness was due to having had to wrap the birds in plastic, with a staple-gun.
Typical politician, I thought, cover up the evidence inappropriately.
Why not just bury them?
Anyway, what use are staple-guns on corpses?
After investigative clarification, it turned out he meant he had, very properly, wrapped the aviary against wind-chill to save remaining feathered inmates. I was delighted.
When the first (much belated) WAM opened originally in Cafler Park, then-WDC councillor the late Dave Culham made a speech rife with rugby references.
When the new WAM opened at the Town Basin, it did so with a show of rugby photos and a welcome for the Tonga World Cup Rugby team.
I reckoned it would be a great day for the visual arts when a major opening at the WAM was completely devoid of rugby references.
Dead birds are not rugby, so it seems that great day has arrived.
Glad I didn't volunteer to eat any of my hats.