Lauda Finem calls on Colman for cash for Ellis

New Zealander and local businessman Barry Colman not that long ago put up a “reward” of $100,000.00 (NZD) for information leading to Peter Ellis being pardoned, and we at Lauda Finem seek that Mr Colman “reissue” a challenge, but in a fresh way. We will endeavor to explain what we feel needs to be done to get Peter pardoned, and at the same time deal with the background.

New Zealand bought ‘red socks’ in the millions so that a yacht could race to win a silver mug.  It was a big deal at the time.

New Zealand lost the mug some years later, and the public frankly grew tired of putting money into trivialities where it funded massive salaries to a few elite sailors who took “full advantage” of the funding.

At the same time Peter Ellis was in prison having been sent there on charges that could never have been made out, if an iota of common sense had prevailed.  Peter Ellis can now walk the streets without anyone rushing to protect their children, or be attacked by vigilantes, or be subjected to orders relating to where he lives.

Peter was never subject to any violence in prison from inmates or guards and was a model prisoner.  Other than the ludicrous testimony of the children supported by the corrupt activities of the Police and the Crown law Office, there was not a single piece of evidence, such as suspicious, or untoward, DNA, that supported the allegations.

Similar allegations were made against numerous female co-workers but were later dropped when even the experts thought them too impossible to consider truthful. Those same workers obtained an award of a million dollars in the Employment Court, before Justice Goddard, only for that heart felt award to be diminished to $170,000.00 by the corrupt and heartless Court of Appeal.

Peter Ellis was the target of an “anti gay” campaign run by corrupt Police Officers investigating ludicrous child abuse allegations against Peter Ellis; allegations which were initially drawn from innocent children by equally prejudiced parents, and then “certified” by dubious and frankly dishonest psychiatrists on the Crowns “payroll” that “co-operated” with the investigating corrupt coppers and a corrupt crown solicitor by the name of Brent Stanaway.

Colman is an extraordinary New Zealander that all New Zealander’s should be deeply proud of. With the Ellis case, he knew that a tragedy had occurred in that Ellis had been convicted of crimes that did not even occur, and where the children “had been manipulated into thinking” that they had been abused by Ellis, Children that, just as with Peter Ellis, also deserve compensation for having been used. This case was after all, in itself, an incredibly barbaric type of offending against both Ellis and the children.

Ellis openly admitted to being a “cock hound”, most of the time, but had previously liked a “bit of clit” some of the time, and of course, according to mentally deranged and probably suppressed bisexuals, (most of Christchurch) this made him automatically incapable of keeping his hands off very young children.

During the investigation Detective Colin Eade could not help himself but to sexually prey on the mothers of the children that were to make the allegations.

We here at Lauda Finem can just imagine Eade saying to one of the dumb arse mothers “look love you need my injection on Monday, Wednesday, and Sunday, when little Billy’s asleep in the very next room safe and sound from that scumfuck Ellis, his black penis, and his pet lions and giraffes”.

Against the background of hysteria and theatrics however Colman decided to do what he thought was right no matter the personal cost.

And that’s when he offered the $100,000.00 reward, and promised to publish evidence that was never used in the trial.  Prominent New Zealander’s also came out in full cry wanting an inquiry set up, and for the Labour Minister of Justice Phil Goff to entertain and promote a petition for mercy to the Governor General.

We can now confirm that the reason why Phil Goff never “went for neither” was that his close personal friend and fellow corrupt Labour Politician Leanne Dalziel’s relatives were amongst those that made the allegations against Ellis, and Dalziel in no uncertain terms, supported by other high ranking Labour party corrupt pollies, wanted the convictions maintained due to family pressure, and a fear that they too would be charged in the criminal courts and sued for compensation.

But more on that in later posts that will out all of the corruption that maintains the injustice of the fraudulently obtained convictions.   Back to the reason for this article and the hope that we can get the ball rolling for Peter when he has been let down by so many people in power who had always had the ability to make a difference, and that includes the ex-labour party list politician and criminal defense barrister Russell Fairbrother.  What Peter Ellis has always needed was a real politician with guts, someone like Sir Robert Muldoon, the father of CER, who acted decisively and moved to force the pardon for Arthur Allan Thomas.

New Zealander’s should remember Muldoon as brash, bigoted, but fucking brave.  Peter needs a Muldoon and Lauda Finem hopes this help can come from the likes of Barry Colman, who we believe has the same strengths that New Zealand now needs in spades.  But it appears that John Key finds the following blokes have been more deserving of knighthoods.

The National Government gave a Knighthood to the “Mad Butcher” for his radio spots where he acted like a complete partisan bogan whilst overlooking one of the richest men in New Zealand that had not stolen or defrauded a single dollar unlike another National Party Knight Sir Colin “the clockmeister” Giltrap.   Come on John Key did Colman or the NBR write a story about you or one of your lying wanker mates.

One of our staff went down to our local Marrickville Vietnamese Australian butchers the other day and that’s how we found out about a New Zealand “mad” Butcher being knighted.   The Aussie butcher reckoned he was a “shoe in” for a Knighthood in Australia as he was the exact opposite to New Zealand’s “mad butcher”.

His reasoning was strong.  Firstly he had been a fresh immigrant that had worked his way up from the meat work gangs to own a chain of stores where he sold high end meat at low prices, whereas we are informed that the “mad butcher” sold shit meat for shit prices.

Secondly he had played for Australia, whereas the “Mad Butcher” had only ever worn cosmetic jewelry and ‘tough stickers’, and played for himself.

Thirdly he could speak the queens English flawlessly and never wore any jewelry due to food safety requirements as he still worked on the floor.   When he goes to Church he wears a Diamond encrusted Rolex president.

Fourthly all of his 5 sons and 3 daughters worked on the floor serving “his customers” whilst they went through University to obtain high academic honours.

Our local butcher goes unrecognized by our government and our staffer thought it was unfair to a point, and suggested, on point, that the Aussie butcher could become a New Zealand citizen and move his standing up a notch.  The answer was quite frankly on point; why the fuck would a man that had managed to emigrate from a second world country to a first world country emigrate back to a second world country.

But again, back to Mr Colman, a man of the arts, a man of the people, and a man of his country’s time. Colman fought battles he picked, or that picked him.  His courage for a cause has required the use of a sword, but more often than not has meant the use of a “Spartans shield” in stories that brought unpopular truth and enlightenment to his readership, and which ultimately led to his readership “spreading the word” free of charge.

What constitutes a real “media achiever” is someone whose courage was not aligned to reward, self interest, (such as political motivation), religion, gender, race, or as in Peter’s case, sexual orientation, which the protagonist supports.

Colman is a true man of the people and we implore all New Zealander’s, despite our call for assistance on behalf of Peter Ellis from Mr Colman, to understand this; Colman’s contribution to New Zealand’s standing in Australia across a wide range of commercial, political and social areas, has been immense in that he is not a fraud, a pretender, or a lying wanker.

Now we want to give a little background to one of New Zealand’s outstanding media achiever’s  and no we are not talking about the corrupt cops best mate Paul “I’d do anything for a dollar” Holmes that was at the order of John key knighted just before he kicked his clogs.

Originally from Rotovegas (Rotorua, a smelly little shithole in the middle of New Zealand’s North Island [not to be confused with the “middle of the earth” which is close by according to New Zealand’s corrupt Prime Minister John Key]), Barry Colman moved to Hamilton (a shithole that doesn’t smell of crap, but where there is the highest number of shitheads per capita of all major centres in New Zealand), and founded the Property Press Nationwide.

The weekly Magazine was a massive success stealing a significant amount of lucrative high-end media from the broadsheets and local newspapers owned by Fairfax and APN. Colman’s formula was simple, don’t compete in strategy that’s not working, change it and make it profitable.

He did this by producing the Property Press locally (outsourced), but on a weekly basis meaning that the magazine was ‘chocker’ full of advertising requiring very little editorial content.

Colman could see the writing on the cheque selling out to Kerry Packers ACP for more money that a Waikato bull herd could shit, immediately setting his predatory instincts on yet another fucktarded publisher that was trying to take full advantage of New Zealander’s.

Barry Colman is an enigma in the world of media as he made his money by knowing what was hot, and when it was still hot, selling to fucktard’s that had an investor equity problem that he and the  purchase of his “product” would quickly resolve.

In perfect balance of an impressive corporate skill set Coleman had the ability to buy media off the same fucktard’s, when they had used their mediocrity to make a publication fail, to then turn it around producing a much higher quality product at less expense, and of course make money.   These abilities make dear Barry a man that should have been knighted a fucking long time ago.

In an instant after having bought the NBR, Colman made some impressive decisions.  Colman soon realized he had major professional differences with NBR (self designated) stars Jenni “make up a story” McManus [silent second “m” – pronounced “mik –anus] and her drunkard fucktard husband Warren “lying wanktard” Berryman.

McManus took legal advice from Rennie QC  demanding a confidential settlement agreement that gave her nothing; the reason for the confidentiality was that she thought the “nothing” bit might have alerted her “readership” to the fact that she was a complete fraud with no artistic ability with even less integrity .

As for Warren  “I fought the mullahs and won”  Berryman, he stood his shaky ground against Colman demanding, without the help of Rennie QC’s adroit advocacy, that he could keep the dumpster he used to work and sleep in; where according to his wife her husband had done his best work.   As the dumpsters use had been to “store” most of the NBR’s “alleged” circulation, Colman did not have a use for the dumpster and had it delivered free.

After being sacked from NBR McManus and Berryman went on to found the failure “The Independent” in direct “lack of competition” to Colmans redesigned NBR.

As a result of that failure, Berryman’s dumpster at the back of the Independent was constantly full even after Berryman was found permanently asleep in it.

Apparently Berryman’s “preserved” corpse was found weeks later amongst a dumpster full of freshly printed copies of “The Independent” [known in the industry as “The Dud”], with the dumpster strongly smelling of methylated spirits; evidence that the finances were not good at his end.  It is alleged amongst “scuttlebutt” that Berryman’s death certificate said “died of long standing virulent verbal diarrhea”.

Lauda Finem understands that, in New Zealand, if you a diagnosed of such a disease, no autopsy is required, and that his body was cremated by placing it next to a source of heat.

With Berryman gone in a puff, and with McManus’s credit cards maxed, her creditors refused to take “barter card” options on old, or future, copies of the Independent.  McManus in a stroke of genius sold “The Dud” to Fairfax.  But to understand how stupid the board at Fairfax were at that time; that being before they paid way too much for their next fuck up “Trademe”, we at Lauda Finem want to explore and report the events leaving up to that sale.

In 2006 Colman was courted by Fairfax and APN News & Media, publisher of the Herald, both of which were interested in buying the NBR.

Both approaches were rejected, and as we have said it led to Fairfax making its ill-fated investment in the Independent.  How the fuck could Fairfax have bought the Independent over the NBR; oh that’s right they sold it to Colman at a massive loss, [$1m], and then Colman did his magic making the masthead worth $30m and wanted his “days pay”.

Fairfax being the inscrutable organization it is; other than it buys things at overvalue, fucks them, and then gives them away to someone who knows what they are doing, went onto to reject the NBR.  The masthead of the NBR was reported to be worth $30m on its books, but then again the Heralds masthead was valued on its “books” for a billion dollars when Irish bullshit artist Tony OReilly went through the Herald with a can, or a billion cans, of Heinz baked beans as security to obtain loans to then mortgage the Herald to the brink, a brink that the Herald has toppled over to be in fiscal free fall without a parachute.

The independent went on to blame its fall from grace on to it having to honour the historical liquor account of “pisshead” Berryman, whilst its readership fell to the current levels of the Truth and Herald; ie unsustainable.

The truth is that the Independent was closed soon after it ran a story about  renowned New Zealand Justice Campaigner Dermot Nottingham over Nottingham’s claims made in Nottingham’s “Mytton Report” against New Zealand finance company businessmen and Internationally franchised Accountants Price Waterhouse Coopers.

Nottingham did what he does best in his widely read reports having a massive crack backed by facts, facts, facts, and some more facts, and Independent Editor Fiona Rotherham decided to take him on in a “dumb bitch on brilliant bloke” contest and the Fairfax lawyers and management agreed she had not mislead New Zealander’s; she had purposefully set out to attempt to destroy his reputation, and manipulate the investors that had engaged the Justice Campaigner to believing that Nottingham had misled them.

Nottingham’s report went on to found the complete change in the investor’s litigation’s direction where a settlement was on the table for $1 to $2m for the investors, to a subsequent win in the High Court for $9m based solely on the facts and legal argument contained in Nottingham’s Mytton Report.   Colman would never have allowed such “hate” to be written in a column in the NBR.

Now to understand how fucked up the likes of Rotherham, McManus, and other New Zealander media bitches, such as Chris “I give people the trots ” Trotter, are we refer to Trotters story on how he would miss the Independents style as designed by McManus and Berryman;

Goodbye to all that: Jenni McManus (above) co-founder of The Independent with Warren Berryman and Tony Timpson in 1992, remains a firm believer in Berryman’s vision of a publication dedicated to “the free marketplace of ideas”. But, in a world where shareholders value regular dividends over critical journalism, Berryman’s and McManus’s dream could not be sustained.

 

I WAS THIRTY-SIX when the first issue of The Independent hit the news-stands, and fifty-four when the last paper rolled off the presses. A child born in the same year as the feisty business weekly launched by Warren Berryman, Jenni McManus and Tony Timpson will be eligible to vote in the next general election. What expectations will that eighteen year-old citizen carry with her as she enters the polling booth for the first time?

 As a young New Zealand woman, born in 1992, she will expect to be treated as the equal of the young man entering the polling booth alongside her.

It is difficult to overstate the importance of this expectation. In only a handful of countries are such hopes even remotely realistic. Most of the world’s women remain serially subservient to their fathers, brothers, husbands and bosses.

In Guatemala or Somalia the quasi-official Kiwi feminist slogan: “Girls can do anything!” would ring decidedly hollow in young women’s ears. But that is not the case here. New Zealand’s women and girls may have a long way to travel before achieving perfect equality, but already our eighteen year-old voter has come a lot further than her sisters overseas – and she expects to go farther still.

The young man casting his first vote in the adjoining booth is likely to be much less confident of his place in 21st Century New Zealand society.

The jobs that once defined the classic Kiwi male: farmer, shearer, fisherman, soldier, miner, labourer, freezing-worker, tradesman; are nowhere near as numerous as they were in the first 150 years of New Zealand’s history. The occupations that await today’s young school-leavers are not the sort that work up a sweat. Nor are they likely to inculcate the values of rugged independence, mateship and solidarity that once epitomised the “ordinary Kiwi joker”.

Eighteen year-old Kiwi males have spent their entire lives under the neoliberal order of Roger Douglas and Ruth Richardson. Competing with every other participant in the labour market for the good things in life is what they expect. And everywhere they look – in textbooks, computer games, movies and reality TV shows – the message is the same: “winning” is both its own reward and its own justification. No one wants to be a “loser”.

The individual which emerges from this dog-eat-dog environment is a very different beast from the “good Kiwi bloke” of yesteryear. In place of rugged individualism we find a virulent strain of adolescent narcissism. “Mates” have been replaced by carefully assembled audiences of “friends” – some real, some in cyberspace. Solidarity, when it manifests itself at all, is the solidarity of winners against losers: the solidarity of America’s Top Model and Survivor.

Combine the expectations of eighteen year-old Kiwi males and females and the result is unlikely to fill most fifty-four year-old New Zealanders’ hearts with confidence. Self-obsessed, overconfident, ruthless and hungry for all the material trappings of success, these first-time voters are perhaps the least reliable custodians of the traditional New Zealand values of egalitarianism and fair-play that their elders could imagine.

For someone like myself, a left-wing Baby-Boomer who has spent the past eighteen years writing columns dedicated to preserving those old-fashioned values, the kids who have grown up alongside The Independent are the living proof of my utter failure. The market for the social-democratic ideals and institutions that made my own generation the most fortunate in human history has steadily shrunk.

When The Independent first saw the light of day New Zealand politics was being driven by two newly-formed insurgent parties – the Alliance, led by Jim Anderton, and NZ First, led by Winston Peters. Between them, these two attracted more than a quarter of all the votes cast in the 1993 General Election. Looking back, however, it is clear that their electoral success represented the final cri de coeur from an “Old New Zealand” that was, quite literally, passing away.

The leaders of the insurgency, Peters and Anderton, both got their chance to radically alter the nation’s course and return to the status quo ante. Both failed.

Neither politician was able to match the sheer brute strength of the status quo; and in a surprisingly short space of time the two major parties, National and Labour, had reclaimed – if not in body, then most certainly in spirit – their prodigal sons.

Not that the major parties had any more luck than the Alliance or NZ First in gaining control of the nation’s steering mechanisms. New Zealand continued to follow the neoliberal course set by Douglas and Richardson and no party or politician seemed to possess either the strength, or the will, to change it.

Half of The Independent’s life was spent under a Labour Government led by Helen Clark and Michael Cullen – both of whom in their youth boasted radical political leanings. Once in power, however, Clark and Cullen were able to make only the most marginal of social and economic changes.

The tiller was not for turning.

But if people could not, or would not, change the policies of the neoliberal state then, in a grotesque vindication of Newton’s third law of motion, the neoliberal state’s policies would start changing the people.

If history was indeed over, as Francis Fukuyama’s best-selling book (published in the same year as The Independent’s launch) insisted, then what was the point of attempting to master – either conceptually or politically – the swirling clouds of instant information blowing out of that other great artefact of the early-90s – the Internet.

The free and open marketplace of ideas that Warren Berryman had dreamed of – and which The Independent at its best came so close to creating – was attracting fewer and fewer browsers. The new consumers, in the new century, were increasingly drawn to outlets stocked with products – ideological as well as material – they already knew they wanted. The world-wide-web made it easy.

Neoliberalism and its technological homologues, the PC, the cellphone, the Internet, have radically changed what it means to be a citizen – and what’s required of a newspaper.

Democracy was once a game that all the people played, and it was newspapers that taught them the rules. Today, “politics” has become a spectator sport, which the media allows them to watch.

 The Independent is closing its doors because, after eighteen years, it has simply run out of people to teach.

Source: http://bowalleyroad.blogspot.co.nz/2010/07/independent-1992-2010.html

What the fuck are you talking about Trotter you sycophant fuck.  The Independent failed because it had two lying fuckwits at the helm and hired fuckwits like Rotherham, and tried to fuck good men for the reward from very very bad men.

Then “the Dud” was sold to Fairfax who kept up the status quo until the cabal took on Dermot Nottingham, a man who took them and their lawyers on, and in a short space of about a month, had them on the ropes pleading for mercy.  The pay out for defamation, and the ensuing public apology, destroyed any credibility the “shite sheet” had, and the bean counters told its owners, “she canna make it captain – shes fucked”.

In contrast Colman went onto sell NBR to its CEO Todd Scott, remaining in independent hands and still produces good solid stories across a wide range of commercial and human interest sectors.

During Colman’s reign he also took on the coppers desire to keep the identity Constable Keith “take a gun into the shower” Abbott secret.  Abbott who loved guns and loved to use them wherever an “opportunity” arose gunned down Waitara Maori Steven Wallace when Wallace was walking down the middle of the main road having broken a few windows with a golf club.

NBR and Dermot Nottingham were co respondents when dysfunctional Greg O’Connor’s Police Association attempted to apply to the High Court for injunctive relief permanently suppressing the name of Abbott.  Both men were successful in defending the application and Nottingham went onto write his report “one law for all” that named Abbott and called for Abbott to be charged with murder.

The reports evidence was used to have Abbott indicted to face alternate charges of murder and manslaughter.  O’Connor had argued that New Zealander’s did not want to know Abbott’s identity, but was proven wrong when his, and his mate Paul Holmes, attempted to have a crack at Nottingham live on television in a clearly two on one attack.  It is our view that Nottingham’s live performance was impeccable and this was the reason the report was read by over 700,000 kiwis and an unknown number of persons in many countries as it has been translated into many other languages.

With what has occurred in recent times in New Zealand, where it would seem that “common sense” is simply not available in any area of how the Police Service and Justice Systems work, the time is ripe for a “pink sock” campaign, and that Mr Colman would be the figure to front such a campaign to raise money to have a real crack at getting Peter Hugh McGregor Ellis his richly deserved pardon and a massive dollop of compensation.

We feel that Mr Colman could put up the initial cash and media savvy to get the campaign going on the understanding that his money comes back out of the proceeds should such surplus proceeds be available, and if not available, should Peter be successful, Mr Colman should be paid from the Governments coffers as part and parcel of the compensation due to Peter.

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