Christmas Contributions Drive
Comrades
It’s been a hell of a year.
Despite the hacks that knocked us off line this year, despite the threats from the Atlas Network against us, despite the rest of the media world collapsing, TDB is still here!
This year we brought you the most watched Podcast of 2024 and we brought you a gold award winning Political Podcast and TDB still hits quarter of a million views each month.
It’s the end of the year, the team here are buggered and before we take a break we ask you for our annual Christmas Contribution.
We last called for donations in August because we know how tough it is out there for everybody, but as we go on our annual summer break, we are passing the hat around.
Unlike most media, TDB does not get any money from NZ on Air.
Last year we have provided incisive political insight and oversight alongside the number one political podcast in NZ alongside a 7 week live debate for the election that most media networks didn’t even attempt!
We have given a better insight and oversight to the political machinations and political cultural trends than anyone else in the NZ blogging spectrum.
Don’t contribute to us because you agree with us, contribute because you see the importance of having an independent voice in NZ media.
We are critical of the Right AND the Left.
If you value having an independent news voice and are in a position to contribute – please do so here.
Brown envelope, or red? Envelop, embrace good thinking, hard-working senders of light. My favourite quote/poet – don’t let it bore you, it’s good.
https://poets.org/poem/september-1-1939
September 1, 1939
W. H. Auden 1907 – 1973
I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night…(Start of WW2)
+++++++++++++++++++++
…All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.
Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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