As much as I love living in this country, there’s no getting away from it: our political landscape is just one big petty no-holds-barred squabble for the attention of the stupid uneducated voter.

Consider the new proposal put forward toward today by the increasingly desperate and pathetic Leader of the Opposition, Kim Beazley: Australia should require visitors to complete an ‘Aussie Values’ Statement before they can get into The Wide Brown Land.

This from the head of the political party for which I have voted for most of my adult life.

I cringe in embarrassment.

Some of the ‘Aussie Values’ that Mr Beazley and his cronies have somehow settled on with no consultation at all with Aussies such as myself are: “Respect for different religions and cultures, for the equal treatment of women, and for hard work and respect for Australia’s institutions, including its democracy, laws, courts, parliaments, armed forces and police“.

OK, let’s see. ‘Respect for hard work‘?* You’d have to throw out half the people who are already here. ‘Respect for the parliament’? I lost that years ago.

Way to go Mr Beazley. Maybe just to completely clarify our status to the rest of the world each of us should hang a sign around our necks saying ‘Yokel’.

And ‘respect for different religions and cultures’ should have appended ‘as long as they’re not the indigenous aboriginal population’, surely?

What this is all about, of course, is keeping the flickering flame that is the Fear of Terrorism alive in the Australian psyche. Because everyone has learned that the way to get elected these days is to Cut Interest Rates and Keep Our Country Safe From Terrorism!

So, all you terrorists, you just better watch out, because next time you try getting into our Fair Country, you might have to get past a form like this:

Aussie Values Thumbnail

UPDATE: After a full day of this on the news, I am even more embarrassed. I feel I have to say that I unreservedly apologize to people of other cultures who find this idea offensive. Even though I’ve made fun of it, I don’t find it funny at all and I am deeply ashamed to be a part of a society who has these kinds of small-minded thoughts.
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* Although I suppose technically you could respect it without actually doing it.

You may have heard of the unusual psychological disorder Jerusalem Syndrome, in which visitors to the Holy City somehow get swallowed up by the delusion that they are Jesus Christ, and dress and behave like him.

The untimely death of Steve Irwin* this week prompted me to wonder if there might be other kinds of syndromes attached to appropriate locations. Let’s start with:

Brisbane Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in khaki shirt and skimpy shorts, attempts to climb into estuaries and wrestle crocodiles, and says “Crikey!” a lot.

Chicago Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in double-breasted suit and fedora, eats spaghetti at most meals, threatens people with a machine gun and cheats on taxes a lot.

Stockholm Syndrome. Oh wait, there’s already one of those.

Wellington Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in loose floppy clothes, grows a bushy beard and is overweight and unkempt. Carries around a viewfinder and mutters phrases such as “More orcs!” and “Come to me, my precious”. Can often be found in cinemas.

Deadwood Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in shabby Wild West attire and/or stained and unwashed long-johns, drinks copious quantities of rye whisky, and liberally peppers conversations with words such as “fuck”, “cocksucker” and “pussy”.

Nottingham Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in Lincoln green, wears a cocky hat with a feather, mugs tourists but gives the money to buskers and attempts to inveigle passers-by to “Joine my Merrye Bande”.

Westminster Syndrome. Sufferer dresses in twinset and pearls, casts eyes downward under a floppy fringe and protests often “I am not bulimic”. Is very thin.

I’m sure there are many more. Over to you.
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*As tragic as this was, at least the guy got to die quickly and doing something he loved. Oh that any of us should be so lucky. I feel I am obliged to point out that he was dealing with dangerous animals and so he must always have been aware of the risk. He who lives by the swordfish… (yeah, yeah, I know it was a stingray, but I could wait forever for someone to be killed by a swordfish).

Glitch is one year old today! So what do you give The Spawn Who Has Everything? That’s right: a limb!

Devil Cat

Around the inner-city burrough in which I live, the favoured method for getting motorists to reduce their speed is The Speed Hump. The Speed Hump is a plague upon humanity. It is up there with the Biblical Plagues: A Plague of Locusts, A Plague of Boils, and a Plague of Speed Humps. See how easily that rolls off the tongue? I really hate The Speed Hump. For many reasons, but among them:

1: Speed Humps do not seem to impede in the least all the 4WD owners, who are the worst offenders. Speed humps? Ha! That’s as close as they get to actually using four wheel drive! They love the speed hump. It justifies in their brain the reason they spend twice as much on petrol as the rest of us.

2: Speed Humps really screw up the suspension on tiny gas-saving cars like mine, which have small wheelbases and don’t have dead-kangaroo-height clearance. Every time I go over one my poor little Smart just bottoms out. Ker-thunk!

3: Speed Humps cause people to accelerate loudly once they’ve cleared the bump, effectively wrecking the concept anyway: “WooHoo, now I’m OFF the Speed Hump I’m going to really fang* it!!!”

But do not let it be said that the Reverend makes light of road safety! Yes, Speed Kills! and here at The Cow we endorse responsible driving so I am proposing a new concept in traffic pacifying.

Goats.

Yes, goats. I propose that we release herds of goats throughout urban traffic routes. You doubt my methods? Then read this†!

I rest my case.

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*An Australian term which I’m sure my US readers can figure out.

†Thanks Pil! (I love my readers)

CowBones

OK, heads-up guys. Only about a week & a half to International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

For those of you who don’t know what that means, we provide for you as a public service, this training video.

Start practising.

Waiting

The Art of (Cat) War #3 – Temporizing Ground:

It is advisable not to stir forth, but to retreat.

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