Friday, August 13, 2010

A Little Housekeeping and startled Dick Smith fearful sparrows heading south for winter...


(Above: hey true blue, Dick Smith as a dinkum digger Scout).

Driven mad with fear and loathing at the sight of all the Asians standing in line to enter Australia, and moving in slow motion what's more, as shown in Dick Smith's Population Puzzle, the pond is fleeing south for the weekend.

Of course in this topsy turvy world, to flee south in winter defies Florida logic, and to flee north is to take us even closer to the teeming Asian hordes of Bangladesh, which is what Australia is likely to become, if not this decade, then certainly next, unless the valiant Dick Smith can overcome the odds ...

Sure it'll involve a tear or two, and a humming of tunes about who'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me, except they've changed all the words, and things aren't the same, and great fears about whether we'll have enough room for all of us to store our personal helicopters in our chopper garages, but somehow we'll overcome.

You can download this irrational, emotional, loaded bit of fear mongering - in handy wmv or mp4 form - by going here, and share nostalgia-laden memories of when Australia was suburban, with milkos doing their thing, and cricket in the back yard with dad and mum and John Howard and the nice boys over the road, white, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant, except for those nasty dirty Celtic Irish Catholic types down the road, ruining the neighbourhood, and cheating at cricket.

Stricken and fearful as we are - did we mention Bangladesh and traffic problems and the difficulties of parking helicopters these days? - we're off to Melbourne, which is as close as we dare get to Tasmania, because early in the show there was startling evidence that Tasmania was full to the brim, and devouring the country's resources, services and funding.

Yep, the damn place used to be full of incestuous apple eaters, but now it's full of damn resource hungry furriners. Not that we're into stereotypes in any way.

With a bit of luck, when we land in Melbourne, we'll be able to catch a ride with a nice furriner type taxi driver, so we can bemoan in an egalitarian way how the country's gone to the dogs since all the furriners and boat people moved in, and as a result of them drinking up all the water - don't they know that there's no right to safe potable drinking water - farmers are being forced to burn their orange trees, and as a result none of us drink orange juice any more, hence all the diseases and the pressure on hospitals, and likely there won't be enough to feed us all, or the world in a decade, and how's a politician like Bob Carr going to organise infrastructure for the new mob, let alone organise an Olympics so he can piss a billion dollars of infrastructure money against the wall...

And phew, is there any more fear mongering I can dollop up with chunks of cream made from dinkum digger Aussie cows right now?

Nope, sorry, it's off to Melbourne, and as you all know, Melbourne is so remote and so bereft of intertubes facilities and so useless are their famous carrier pigeons in the compilation of blogs that normal mad cow diseased activities, nee blogging, directly the result of overcrowding by furriners, might resume some time next Monday.

Unless the furriners crowd me out and asphyxiate me with their crushing, overwhelming, stifling, presence before then ...

Oh dear lord, I feel a panic attack coming on.

To be absolutely safe we were hoping to reach Antartica, but it's a relief to know that Melbourne is likely to be as cold or colder.

Yes, yes, there's nothing like a good stereotype to warm the cockles of the heart.

I'm heading home to where they shot On the Beach, and while you might quibble as to whether the quote came from Ava Gardner, or Neil Jillet, (now only in cache form here), On the Beach was a story about the end of the world, and Melbourne sure is the right place to film it. Or to live it ...

(Below: burn baby burn, it's all going up in flames, the end of the world is nigh, we're doomed I tells ya, I tells ya. Flee, flee to Melbourne, I tells ya, so the last few months of your miserable lives can be lived in misery amid family squabbles).


6 comments:

  1. Talk about straws and camel's backs - last night's viewing has pushed me to the edge. The absolute gall of Dick Smith, the rantings of John Elliott and the avaricious intent of the ABC and Tony Jones to glean "content" no matter how offensive. All done in the name of "a conversation about population". What a load of bullsh*t.
    It was a thin disguise in the run-up to an election with the intent to push a lot of buttons.
    Up to last night I just disliked a lot of people, now I just plain hate them.

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  2. Hard to believe the depths that the ABC had sunk to. D. Smith, multi-millionaire, former electronics store owner, current purveyor of grocery lines, former head of CASA (qualification: I can fly a plane) gets an hour long rant on the ABC. Paid for by himself. Since when did the ABC start doing paid endorsements?

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  3. I enjoy practical jokes, Dorothy, and had planned to send a few of my Asian friends down south and drive you madder, but then you sounded so desperate I didn’t want to tip you over the scale into some form of schizoid personality disorder. But have no fear, or to quote the mantra of that great equalitarian, Sir Johannes “Joh” Bjelke-Petersen, “don’t you worry about that”. Remember, if John “we will determine who comes to this country and the circumstances in which they come” Howard’s love child, Tony Abbott – god forbid - wins, he will “push the boats back” and then Tony’s next project to keep those Asian savages out will certainly be the construction of the following along the whole length of Australia’s coast.

    http://www.instablogsimages.com/images/2010/01/10/israel_wall_tower_2_ufnlj_3868_V6mAm_19672.jpg

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  4. Hmmm. So the wonderful iPad just isn't up to a wee bit of remote blogging. Didn't you get the 64GB, 3G model ? (tsk tsk).

    But enjoy your sojourn in my birthtown, Dorothy, and remember, the longer you stay here, more likely you'll be in the right place when the world ends ...

    [Diogenes, obviously you're way too young to remember Mad Magazine's famous takedown of Barry Goldwater.]

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  5. GrueBleen, look up this site and it will give more than a hint of my age.

    http://oldfortyfives.com/TakeMeBackToTheFifties.htm

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  6. Sorry GrueBleen but the iPad ran movies and games for the children - why a small screen is vastly more entertaining than the big ones to hand is a greater mystery, which must stay so and thus - while the adults refrained from artificial digital activities and indulged in conversation.

    Not once was a computer switched on - remember the iPad is a simple toy for the simple and the young. The big machines stay hidden in a cabinet for fear the senses will be over-stimulated. Computer junkies must not be seen and certainly not heard. By the end of the second day I was chewing the wallpaper and the scenery and needless to say the relatives ...

    As for Dick Smith and Screen Australia and the ABC, I was so enraged that I spent the weekend spluttering like an Oscar Wilde rocket. Not so much because of the funding, though that's cause for hysteria and outrageous enough, but at the sheer stupidity of the level of discussion on view, filtered through the picket fence haze of the fifties ...

    Needless to say, the older white males in the vicinity bought the pup wholesale, never mind the contradiction between abusing apartment dwellers and yearning for quarter acre blocks on which to play cricket, never mind the absurdity of putting Sydney up against Bangladesh when one might just as well have contemplated New York, never minding the notion that 480,000 just turn up in a lump in Tasmania ...

    Arrgh, family fight time and another one bites the dust ,..

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