KEY POINTS:
Work can take you to the most exotic places, like the faux opulent interior of a Gold Coast hotel, which is where - as Prince Charles might say - one finds oneself this week.
Or it can take you to the Tienanmenminimalist facade of the Peoples' Office for Export and Trade in Beijing, provided, of course, you're a member of our ruling elite, or inner sanctum, or a particularly competent trade negotiator, or an especially heroic Prime Ministerial food taster, or a famous Political Editor, or a kaumatua with experience in the exorcising of Oriental demons, or just happen to live within a 5km radius of the Beehive.
Because it seems just about anyone who fits into those categories (except the poor old Lord Mayor of Auckland) is presently in Beijing, feverishly hammering out the details of this historic, ground-breaking and maybe quite important, Free Trade thingee.
Now, although it's hard to tell in Australia, where they're more concerned about where Kevin Rudd isn't going, i.e. Japan, than where Helen Clark is, one must assume our Dargaville-sized delegation has actually left for the Chinese capital and is going about its preliminary business - the Editors filing breathless reports, the kaumatua scouring corridors for evil spirits that may derail the talks, the taster suspiciously nibbling the PM's Gingernuts and that, therefore, when all such work is done, the Free Trade thingee will be handed over like a retail version of the Olympic Torch.
Given this is so, it's important for those of us trapped in Outer Roa (or the Gold Coast) to understand what's going on, especially since just about everything in the world these days, with the possible exception of babies and ideas, is made in China. Or by robots. Or by robots in China, many of whom are people.
Accordingly, here's A Beginners Guide to Free Trade which should enable you to join in on discussions.
* It all started with British Prime Minister, Pitt the Younger, in 1784. Having spent his childhood in the coal mines, Pitt emerged grimy but determined to make a difference. So he repealed the Corn Laws and that's how we got Free Trade.
* New Zealand has got a Free Trade Agreement with Australia which is why they're allowed to ban our apples. While Free Trade agreements do not permit you to put ridiculously high tariffs on imports, they do let you invent dubious scientific reasons to keep anything you don't like out. So its basically business as usual, particularly in Election Years.
* Contrary to what every overtaxed, underpaid New Zealander may hope, an FTA with China does not mean we'll all be getting a brand new, 52 inch HDTV for nothing. Although we may think such a gift would be the best possible way the Chinese could demonstrate genuine remorse after their spot of bother in Tibet, it won't happen. Having a Free Trade Agreement just means we can't keep their stuff out (except for dubious scientific reasons) and they can't keep ours out either (except for dubious scientific reasons or any product that a really important country like France gets merde-y about when they're negotiating a deal of their own). So there'll be no give-aways at The $2 Shop but our delegation has had a very nice trip.
* On certain occasions, when the moon is in the 7th house, Winston Peters is allowed to be against the Free Trade Agreement. He's allowed to be against it when he's speaking as the Leader of New Zealand First. He's not allowed to be against it when he speaking as Foreign Minister. Then he has to say, "It's none of my business. Phil Goff's looking after it."
The way we can tell which role he's playing is really quite simple. When Winston is speaking as Leader of New Zealand First a little door opens in his forehead and a cuckoo comes out but, when he's speaking as Foreign Minister, it's replaced by a dove.
* And that's about it, except for the sad fact that Auckland's new lord mayor missed out on the junket. Happily, the extinguished poet laureate Mr Jam Hipkins has composed a laudably consoling tribute. Sayonara, as they used to say in Beijing when the Japanese were in charge. The pome:-
All rise for his Warship,
Most eminent chap.
Chained to his office
In best ermine wrap
He's a step back in time
A return to tradition
In a nation where titles
Are viewed with suspicion.
For we've got rid of Knighthoods
No Sirs stride the land
There's no Privy Council,
That's also been banned.
We eschew olde worlde prayers
And we turn scornful faces
On any pompous displays
Of false airs and graces.
Except up in Aucklan
Queen City most fair
Which won't have some common old
Mayor in the Chair.
Instead, a noble exception
Come, peasants! Applaud!
And get down on your knees
As you welcome "My Lord!"
