I Plan To Protest Outside A Vegan Restaurant

Not that I have anything against eating vegetables – I like potatoes and green beans and corn on the cob. I even like okra in gumbo. But I’m curious to see if I can get a crowd of people worked up for no good reason. It’s not an election year so this is the next best choice.

The people who really do eat only vegetables are not the target – they’ll probably be inside lifting the lids on the pots and seeing what’s cooking. And the people who eat meat are also not the main issue – I do love a good elk roast or moose stew. The ones I want are the knee-jerk followers who can be hoodwinked into anything with the correct pitch.

Part of me wants to make it funny and complain about how rutabagas are sentient beings with feelings and aspirations and really should be eligible for Parliament. And part of me wants to think up a disasterous-sounding health scare that involves some obscure chemical that you find in the leaves of any normal plant. Either approach should work if enough emotion and sleazy reasoning is applied. I plan to use the word ” toxic ” a lot.

There’ll have to be banners, of course, and I need to sit and think of a simple slogan with a good rhythm that can be chanted by people in woolen beanies and parkas. The sound of the howl is actually quite important – too simple and the protestors lose interest and too complex and it gets confused with the counter-melody. And you have to avoid getting close to commercial jingles because a lot of the advertising agencies have real lawyers.

I am also going to have to be careful about the use of the term ” root vegetables “. These days you cannot skirt too close to the semantic edge for fear of a backlash. Likewise I am going to have to carefully remove any reference to food that has any sort of ethnic or sexual connection. Zucchinis and black eyed peas are on the banned list for different reasons. Even collard greens are under the protection of federal agencies.

Still, with careful preparation and some cash in the right pocket, I think I can get my 15 minutes of fame in front of the restaurant. Don’t want to take much longer as I get hungry out on the footpath and they do a rather nice cauliflower curry that goes quickly.


It’s Like Funny In The Bank

If you can tell a joke that no-one expects, you can sell it for more money than they’d normally pay.

I know – I do this daily. Not here – you get this stuff for the price of the electricity to open your computer – but over on the column I write for the Perth camera store. They pay me to stay away from the place and write good things about stock and events they sell. If I ever stop writing they’ll just pay me to stay away…

Every daily post contains a product or service that is being touted – and I do so on a fair and honest basis – but every post equally contains one unexpected yock. Mostly I make fun of myself, as being the safest target. Of course, if I suspiciously look and sound like someone else and it puts the readers in mind of another figure in the photo trade…well that must just be a trick of the light. So far no rocks through the editorial window – from either inside or outside.

Some trades would be notoriously difficult to write humorous pieces for. I should not attempt the funeral trade, nor any crisis service or legal business.  I did poke fun at dentistry while I was a dentist, but have left it alone since retiring. This way I cannot be accused of dated humour.

Likewise, some topics bear little laughter from outside the fold – religions and political movements are a good example. People involved deeply in any of those fields are not inclined to laugh at themselves nor at anyone else. Laughter invites relaxation and friendliness and few religious or political figures want to be tainted with that sort of accusation.

As for writing jokes for other people to present…well, bring it on. But be warned that if I am going to get other people to laugh with you, I will also be providing them with an opportunity to laugh at you. Are you stalwart enough to join with them on both occasions?

The Poison Keyboard Letter

Well I am thrilled to bits. I think I may have gotten my first ever real troll here on ” Here All Week “…but I cannot be absolutely certain. I made the mistake of throwing their comment out with the spam, and I can’t get the computer to return to it.

I discovered the comment in with the rest of the spam things that seem to originate from auto-bots or people promoting cosmetic sales. These are tiresome but no more trouble than a highlight and a click to throw out. Every so often one sneaks through to the regular letters section and on a couple of occasions I have been fooled into thinking they are real. But, as I say, it is the work of a moment to throw them away. And at least they do not interrupt dinner time…like some subcontinental spam phone callers.

The post that winked into existence was pretty incoherent but seemed to accuse me of redneck racism and called me a nazi. And threatened that I had better stop writing any more because they knew people in the Democratic party. And it used the word antifa, which seems to be the flavour of the month. I kid you not.

I am sad that I made the mistake of not isolating it when I trashed the other spam, because it might have been worth following up. But then you never can tell where this sort of computer link will lead and what other electronic pests it might attract…

Still, I can only hope that whoever it was – real person or computer chip – will continue to monitor this channel. I have a lot more laughing to do at rioters and looters, and I can always use more readers, enraged and otherwise.

PS: Ooh, I just had a thought. It wasn’t all that well spelled or punctuated. Could it have come from Federal Parliament? Perhaps it is hard to type with a dark garment covering your eyes…

“…Thought Your Post Was Awesome…”

dscf8424” You may want to see what they have written… ”

Equally, I may want to catch them with a salmon gaff and then beat them black and blue…

All these social possibilities – what to do – what to do…The invitation to see what my new best friend looks like or is doing can be irresistible. I click over as soon as I get the email. If it is a good meaty, interesting blog with plenty of writing and pictures that change regularly, I keep it on the private list for my browser and heark back to it regularly. I have a man in France who takes wonderful pictures and a man in America who makes model airplanes, and I never miss their posts. There are also people who write well about social issues and their arts, and I try to keep up.

There are also people who I dispose of immediately and flush and flush until they go down. These are the promoters of how to promote yourself, and the boosters of boosterism. The kindest construction I can put upon their posts is that they are robotic programs of some sort.

The most frustrating is the profile that is no profile. If you are a person who lives on the other side of the planet you need not pour your soul out to me on the first page, but at least put up a picture of the geranium plant on your balcony. If you have attracted my attention, DO something with it. I promise I will not ask you for money.





Going Forward From Being Right To Being Righteous

sitting-duckRelax, folks. This one isn’t about politics. Not unless you want to write a hidden agenda yourself. If you need to do that, copy and paste the text into a Word program and increase the spacing to double – then type whatever you want in the gaps between the lines. Send me a copy – I like a bit of reading before bedtime.

No, it is not about politics. Or religion. It is about sex. And now that you’re awake…

I noted on my Facebook account recently that a Perth hotel made a foolish decision to promote themselves for New Years Eve beer sales by pretending to hold a ” Frat Party ” – complete with tasteless signs displayed from the balcony of the Edwardian-era building.

They were promptly bagged by the local media, and then by everyone who reads the local media, and then by everyone who reads the re-posts of the people who saw it first…The whole episode has blossomed into a shitstorm of bad publicity and outrage. And we here at the Backstabbers Guild Of Australia can only applaud all parties involved – everyone has gotten what they really want for Christmas with this one. To wit:

a. The people who become righteously outraged at insults to women are righteously outraged at this obvious insult. No need to footle about. This one is out there steaming on the footpath.

b. The people who want to write something on Facebook can get a good one in with ” What She Said ” and other such sentiments.

c. The jobsworths in the city council have a lever against the publican. Archimedes himself couldn’t make a better one, and he only had to move the Earth. Publicans have more money than the Earth…Let’s see what happens when we heave…

d. The other publicans in the area can sell beer or mimosa cocktails to protesters who flock around the first pub and get thirsty.

e. The righteous are right. They now have a licence to stand on the street corner and pray. Or at least on the electronic street corner. Cyber-Pharisees, if you will.  I have been searching the dictionary to see if there is a ” wrongteous ” but so far no luck. There may be something in another language…

f. The spokesman for the venue has apologised. To no avail, of course, because something this good/bad/good/bad cannot be allowed to languish until the last drop of social justice has been wrung out of it. Heads must, with any luck, roll – and they must roll, with any luck, publicly. And the righteous will, with any luck, be there to kick them along the street. As far as they can be kicked.

g. And finally. Finally. The pub has the loudest publicity of any beer joint in Perth two days out from one of the two biggest beer-selling nights of the year. A month away from the other one. They could not have purchased media coverage like this for a million dollars. And it is all being trumpeted by the righteous. For free. Gordon Gecko sinks into the shade.

Note: Next year they should do a Salvation Army Party on New Years Eve. Complete with burlesque. As long as the bonnets and bosoms hold up and the tambourines and tits can stand the strain they will be making big money.

As Macbeth said ” Is this a crock I see before me? “.



The New Propaganda And The Old Audience


Or is it the other way round?

I have books of propaganda in my library that are absolutely scurrilous. Murderous tomes that I have difficulty approaching, but which I keep for the insight that they give into the minds of their authors, and by extension, to the minds of their readers. I must admit I have not been able to read more than a single chapter of one of them, but will steel myself to do more when I can. Not in cold or depressing weather, however…

Several of the books are picture books – compilations of Asiatic propaganda put out by communist nations to indoctrinate their people. They are crass, lurid, and, in many cases, crude. But they do have a visual appeal derived from a simplistic attitude of right/wrong and Asian racism overlain with Marxist and Maoist messages. Chairman Mao looks happy.

Now that my Australian friends on Facebook have taken to pushing their “share” button so freely in the run-up to the American elections I have also started a series of daily postings of images taken from these picture books with anti-Clinton captions. This will irk some of the most passionate of Facebookers, but probably delight at least one Trump supporter.

The important thing to realise is that I am not an American citizen and my opinion on the suitability of either of the candidates in their election is invalid. I have no right to say one way or the other. Neither do the vast majority of my Facebook friends here in Australia. The sad thing is I know it and they don’t…or at least don’t care.

So I will gleefully post what are no more than cheap insincere jokes plastered onto stolen artwork. Those who wish to be outraged will have a daily opportunity – as will those who wish to be delighted. None of us here in the antipodes will make the slightest difference to the outcome.

To be fair, I would also post scurrilous memes about the Canadian, British, French, and Peruvian elections if anyone cared. So far my supplies of these have never been touched.

Gaw…lee, Sergeant…


For those of us who remember Gomer Pyle USMC on the television, and remember it with affection, the quote will be familiar. For those of us who also remember English marmalade from McRobertsons in the 1950’s the quote should be adjusted to Golly. But apparently we can’t say it or contemplate the image or the concept of the Golly without being accused of the bitterest crimes.

It would appear that, like McRobertson’s in the UK, Australia is to be compelled to give up the Gollywog. Beechworth has a sweets manufacturer who up until now has been able to have a Golly in their advertisements along with what looks like a wallaby and a koala. It is to be no more – an anonymous Social Corrector has seen it and demanded that the Golly be removed.

This is a wonderful thing for the Social Corrector. It has given them insect authority to control what they cannot make and compel others to obey them, from behind a sheet.

This is cowardice of the lowest order. If you are going to complain, complain openly and be seen for what you are. You may still be able to bully and enslave others if you are arrogant enough, but at least they will know who is doing the harm…and possibly examine your life and ideas…

I will not be casting the innocent Golly out into the night. The heading image will appear on my Facebook page for a month. If I find a Golly in a shop, I will invite him home to tea, and serve marmalade and hot crumpets. It is the only decent thing to do. Anything less would be racist.