Greg Dixon's weekend

SHOE SIZES AND IQS

Of course, the job title "fashion journalist" is an oxymoron. And, of course, talking bollocks is what they do. But really, fashion hacks should stick to the nonsense they know. Why? Well, here's one Daily Telegraph scribbler's political assessment in a fashion week piece: "Perhaps, having learnt that morning that John Tamihere, the Cabinet minister tipped to become New Zealand's first Maori Prime Minister, has been forced to resign after a far-right group discovered some minor tax mistakes, I am simply seeing the failure of this country, perceived as a melting pot, actually to melt." Excuse me? A minor tax mistake? They must do things differently in London. She also gives us this nauseating drivel: "My boy crush is John Campbell, the iconic national newsreader who I find myself next to at one show and who may be the cheeriest man ever to sit through a parade of hats inspired by a dead German architect."

SIMPLE PLAN RUNS AMOK

A straightforward publicity stunt dreamt up by Sports Minister Trevor Mallard isn't quite going to plan. Mallard thought he'd get some cheap hype for the "Push Play" campaign by challenging a press gallery team to an activity contest, measuring steps taken over a week with gadgets called pedometers. The cunning Mallard roped in super-fit mates Michael Cullen, Phil Goff, Steve Maharey, Chris Carter, Damien O'Connor and Anne Hartley. But the exercise has already descended into claim and counter-claim of rule-bending. Newstalk vet Barry Soper, who runs 35km a week on a treadmill, has been crying foul after being issued with successive faulty pedometers. Yesterday he was on his third. Mallard's sports secretary, Atlantic rower Jude Ellis, has received reports that one gallery hack, a dedicated horsewoman, plans to strap the pedometer on to a four-legged hack this weekend to up her score. And news has filtered back to Mallard's office that gallery participants are so devoted to the task, they have taken to jogging on the spot while swilling the beer at the parliamentary bar. IN

CONTEMPT OF COURT

Perhaps all the rarified air in the Supreme Court offices has gone to the head of chief justice Sian Elias. Not content with whingeing about judicial independence, she's now expecting us to wring our hands over whether our judges will have enough to pay their green fees after they retire at the "very early age" of 68. Apparently we "don't want judges on the bench worrying whether they can make ends meet in retirement". Would these be the judges on $272,000 a year who get their superannuation topped up by 25 (soon 30) per cent by we humble, uncomplaining taxpayers? Speaking for those who aren't on the public tit, earn chump change and will be eased out the door at 65 onto the pittance that is the pension, I suggest it is not Helen Clark who is - according to Elias - displaying a "profound lack of understanding" but the carping chief justice herself. The prosecution rests and suggests getting a decent accountant, your honour.

I'M VOTING FOR STUPID

Well there we all were congratulating ourselves on how bitter and nasty our hilariously over-heated Auckland mayoralty brawl was - and then the fratricidal US presidential election race goes and shows us how it's really done. According to reports, someone in Tennessee has been distributing a flyer - a weapon of mass distribution? - showing Dubya as a sprinter in the Special Olympics. The caption reads: "Voting for Bush is like running in the Special Olympics. Even if you win, you're still retarded."

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