Saturday, 26 August 2017

A Spray For Spray-Painters

I've been reading through some posts I have recently made on this blog, and I'm wondering am I turning into a lugubrious malcontent.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I AM a lugubrious malcontent!  And in true lugubrious malcontent style, I'm going to blame my disposition on the fact that this planet is seriously becoming over populated with brain-dead cocksmokers who appear to have made it their life calling to aggravate the living snot out of everybody with a skerrick of common sense.  I don't have much coin to spare, but I am happy to stump up for the proposed settlement on Mars - not for me, it's to send these dickheads to live far, far away; a place with no oxygen which would be suitable karmic retribution because they've been stealing all the oxygen here on Earth.

Take, for example, the morons who vandalised the statues of Governor Macquarie, Captain Cook, and Queen Victoria.  Let me ask you this: Do you seriously have issue with our colonial history and the distressing treatment of our indigenous population, or do you just want an excuse to be destructive flogs?  Whilst world geography/history is not my long suit (although my overall general knowledge kicks all kind of arse), I think it's fair to say most countries who have been subject to European colonisation, or invasion if you'd prefer that word, have an unpleasant story to tell.  Now does vandalising a statue, which is after all an artisan's creation for both remuneration and the enjoyment of the public, the answer?  Let me give you a hint: the answer has two letters, starts with 'N', and ends with 'O'. 

Here's an anecdote for you.  In the main street of my town a new statue has been erected.  It depicts a blue heeler cattle dog.  My fair (or fair inasmuch as having a cloud of coal dust hovering) town takes great pride in being the supposed birthplace of the first ever dog of this breed.  Now, when I take my two fur-babies for their walk, there is a house with three rather large, mean dogs that jump up and stand with their paws on the fence, letting out short, sharp stentorian barks as we pass.  Occasionally, I have a bit of a fright with the sudden racket.  How do I cope with this aggravation?  I snap at the dogs to go fuck themselves, and take a different route home.  I could take this alternate route all the time, but don't always want to climb up the hill.  What I don't do is vandalise our town's new statue to protest my disgruntlement about some dogs.  I was actually bitten by a dog when I was a child, but again, I do not vent my frustration on the statue.

If there is a problem with what these statues of historical figures represent, or trigger, can I make this suggestion: keep the statues, but put up another plaque as well acknowledging the impact upon the indigenous population, and emphasising respect for our indigenous population.  Statues of noted Aborigines would be great, too.  This speaks of reconciliation, gives work to an artist, and would be another tourist attraction.  Win/win all round.

As for changing the date to celebrate Australia Day, well, I'm kind of ambiguous.  Here's the thing: the First Fleet landed 26 January.  You can't change history.  However, if the country ends up picking a different day to celebrate, a day without negative connotations for people, then that's not going to bother me greatly.  But whenever we have Australia Day, why don't we just come together and celebrate what makes us great?  This land is home to an ancient civilisation with a majestic culture.  This land is home to descendants of convicts who believe in a fair go for everyone.  This land became federated as a country through peaceful means, and there aren't many counties who can brag about that.  This land is home to migrants who wanted a new and better life, and who also contribute.  Let's celebrate the fact that we're all different, but all awesome.   Just don't do it on 12 February because that's my birthday, and I want my birthday to myself.

Seriously, you clowns with cans of spray paint should be given an enema with your own weapons of choice.

Okay, vent over. Now all I have to do is deal with all the other shit that's pervading my life and causing abject misery.  It's hard.  I don't know what to do.  Part of the problem is how I perceive the problems that have been dealt to me.  Objectively, they're first world problems.  If the crap was happening to a colleague, I could comfort and counsel my colleague.  But it's happening to me, and I seek counsel elsewhere.   So here is what I will do:

1.  Remind myself I am better than this.  I am a smart person, and the people who are causing me stress at the moment are the type of people who, when not licking windows, lose about 250g of their brain matter whenever they take a crap.

2.  Breathe.

3.  Listen to daggy music.

Okay, rant over.  I'm just off to You Tube 'Penny Arcade'  by Roy Orbison.

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