Deja vote

Its been quite a while since I posted last. I’ve let down our loyal reader…mum? Are you still reading our blog? Anyway, here’s a bonus post to make up for it, and to ruin what was left of our posting schedule. The post is as follows;

I came to the UK recently and thought cleverly to myself: “I’ve escaped the boring as shit failure that is the impending Australian state and federal elections! Woohoo!” I will un-caps that sentence for your comfort. But I’m a little pissed, because as soon as I arrived here in “the mother cuntry” I found that they were having their own bloody election. It gets worse though, because it’s identical to Australia’s. Dun dun duuuun! Now, it will become, if it isn’t already, painfully obvious that my political views are simple, and childishly ignorant. So at best I hope this tantrum rant will have a little value as some sort of gauge of the average voter’s simple gut reaction.

Here in merry England they have a conservative government that failed to deliver anything worthwhile in their miserable term in office. This government is warning against voting for the, I think vaguely left, but mainly vague in expression, opposition party which has been so changeable that it might as well be run by a poker machine. This should already sound extremely familiar to anyone back home. The government’s done nothing except what we didn’t want them to do and the opposition might as well be a hive of backstabbing bees all wanting to be Queen and not caring what grade of honey they make in the meantime. But the similarities don’t end here.

Back home dear old Tone has been dilly-dallying with submarine tenderising or evaluating, whatever. The government here is doing the same, only with nuclear missiles, so a bit more serious than the “spaceships of the ocean” we’re so tired of worrying about. The opposition here are a rebranded rag tag group of green eyed dickheads and nobody, rightly, trusts them to replace the bombs. The government however, like back home, failed to deliver on their promises made last election, so no-one trusts them either.

Back home our successive governments weren’t happy with our platter of immigration control options, so instead, opted for variations of the toilet bowl and pig-trough methods of managing the poor humans who are unfortunate enough to be forced to come to Aus. Of course, here in the UK they have a similar situation; the conservatives are too weak to tell their racist constituents to hang themselves or stay off their side, so they umm and arr and wait for Germany to excuse whatever they do. The opposition do the same thing and the independents brandish pitch forks and say ugg! So there’s no hope of the country controlling its immigration barring some lucky reintroduction of the plague.

And the fucking posters everywhere are irritating as fuck. At least they don’t have Clive Palmer’s face on them.

-W

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When did Australia start its terminal decline into a boring dystopia?

Australia was once considered “the lucky country”. We sold dirt to every continent and received all the fancy household goods and nick knacks we could possibly desire. Those other nations never bothered us because we were too stupid to be a threat, and we kept dealing the lovely cheap dirt out like a donkey following a carrot. What happened to those fruitful years of plenty? What happened to the seemingly endless economic prosperity that fuelled our first world society? Well, like most failed civilisations, Australians and the Australians who ran Australia were too particularly stupid. You probably have all the crazy ideas and common sense to see why we are screwed as a nation but I want to alert you only to the tipping point toward our decline.

The point at which this country made a turn for the worse was simply when Pizza-Hut restaurants started closing their doors. You probably remember them, because they were so fantastic. You went to a fast food pizza restaurant and got to actually sit down. You were treated to meals and treats galore. There were self-serve buffets with mini marshmallows and bacon-bits. It was the place were any old ruffian who had crawled in from the dirt mines of prosperity could eat like a king in a utopian palace of happiness and safety. I think it was no accident that they often had a colour scheme very faintly, vaguely reminiscent of an ancient Roman villa. We in Australia were at the peak of our civilisation. But sometime near the transition between my early childhood and wanting to leave earth for good the restaurants vanished. I realise now that it is the lack of these restaurants that make life no longer worth living.

Like the well fed fat-cats in ancient Rome I am now sitting in a blissful ignorance as the empire collapses around me. I feverishly consume the computers and cars and smart-phones that are testament to our wealth and yet are produced by other nations now growing because their people aren’t simply lucky for a living. The heyday is over, Australia is on the way out and these are the last days of our hedonistic existence. The dystopia is here already and we daren’t look it in the eye. This is why synth-pop bands exist here now that celebrates the opulence of the late 80s and early 90s. For all its social shortcomings it was a time when the country had more money than it could poke a stick at and all problems could just melt away in a sea of our expensively expensive plastic money.

So what does this dystopia look like? Not the cool radioactive wasteland of Mad Max, but much like the Australia of old, only without Pizza Hut restaurants. Sad really isn’t it. There is more detail of course. We actually have telescreenesque TVs which record our conversations and tell us what to think with increasingly shit news. Digital profiles and metadata mean that big brother is always watching you, only big brother wants to sell you toothpaste and lodge insurance claims against you for something you did online. Again, this is a lot sadder and less exciting than in the books. Where’s Room 101, and why doesn’t everyone have helicopters? Well that’s because reality is shit. Hedonism doesn’t mean people enjoy good things. It just means they enjoy a lot of whatever is around at the time. Which in light of dwindling cash means shitty stuff, nothing exciting.

Even shiny new submarines aren’t enough to make us lift a finger and give a shit about what happens to this place. So long as I can extract my super before Australia is occupied by people who don’t want to waste money and have another party. That’s the mentality now. The government will wheel and deal over where to build submarines because the country might need them but their heart wont be in it, because no one else’s is. Why build submarines, what are we defending anymore? Go hard or go home is a lost phrase because the country has lost its youthful vigour and gone limp. Better go home.

If there were anything here to instil a sense of prosperity and competence it would be abundant Pizza Hut restaurants, but they’re gone now. Case closed.

-W