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.

Make-Your-Own-Meme Kit For Sale – Hardly Used

I am putting my Paul Hamlyn Make-Your-Own-Meme Kit up for sale on Gumtree next week. I purchased it when the social media craze started with the intention of changing the world. As it is now I am not sure I could change my underwear with it.

Oh, the kit is all there, and the memes have hardly been use. Many of them are wrapped in their original prejudices. The right buyer could have hours of fun with it. I had minutes…

It may have been my failure to research my market. Most of my Facebook friends hate Donald Trump so the patriotic memes supporting his campaign never did well. The Clinton ones fared a little better until the would-be Facebook Democrats realised that she couldn’t get elected for dog catcher, and then they all went silent. I would have put out Bernie Sanders memes but here in Perth we used to have a hamburger joint called Bernie’s and everything I wrote just seems to have the odour of fried onions and ketchup.

The feel-good inspirational ones were actually a lot of fun to write – though to be honest most of the ones I posted were taken out of pamphlets that people on street corners hand out. I always take a pamphlet, as I feel sorry for them.  Mind you, when they get enough money together to buy a computer and start to bombard me with the same crap in emails I could cheerfully strangle them.

I have tried to get our cat to be amusing. Or dour. Or anything. I am fairly well convinced that he does not have a mind, so there’s not a lot of theatrical value to be got. Mind you, I am pretty sure he would have voted for Clinton, because he does like the smell of fish.

The memes I wrote that seem to have done the best, if the writs are anything to judge by, are the ones encouraging class warfare, race hatred, and social anarchy. I’ve ensured myself against legal repercussions by putting a smiling emoji in the vilest ones and then writing ” Just sayin’ ” and ” Geddit ” at the end. Plus I have registered this computer as belonging to the Dalai Lama if anyone comes looking.

So the meme kit is up for sale. I will also consider trading it for a well-made picketers’ sign and a box of crayons. No sense dropping the Democrat college market entirely. Something may turn up.


” Not My Lemon Slice “

The election results are in. The current Western Australian government is out, and will be replaced by a party that has not been in power for years.

We have been studying the news recently, however, so we know what to do.

a. Riot. Before they lock up all the Transperth buses we will climb aboard with our seniors cards ( free travel between 9:00AM and 3:00PM ) and seize them from the startled drivers. We will overturn them on the main street and set fire to them. One team of two pensioners per bus. Should have that one done before the daily radio serial comes on at 10:30.

b. Refuse to attend the inauguration of the new Premier. Of course, he doesn’t have a public open-air inauguration as such in the Westminster system but this should not prevent our local film and second year arts students from declaring their righteousness and refusing to attend something they are not invited to.

c. Call for the impeachment of the new Premier.

d. Find some physical aspect of the new Premier that we can belittle. His hair is probably his own and the size of his hands is likely to be average, but there must be something that can be ridiculed. Has anyone seen his feet?

e. Start a sneering campaign against his wife and family. Then berate those who join in it with us. Then do it again. Bait. Switch. Bait. Switch.

f. Dig up dirt on the new Premier’s ministerial appointments. Or make up dirt. Or just wait until they go off the rails themselves and take it from there.

g. Make noises about emigrating to South Australia or the Northern Territory while attending hip lunches and swish parties.

h. Demand a safe space to prevent micro aggressions and cultural appropriation. I am going to demand one at the local hobby shop and pub. If they can pipe model airplane glue into the saloon bar I may never leave.

i. Ring up Oliver Stone, Michael Moore, and John Pilger and see if they are interested in doing a scathing documentary on whoever becomes Premier, if he doesn’t pay up.

j. Complain bitterly to anyone who cannot get out of earshot fast enough that the Premier is a man and therefore is not a woman. Demand compensation, reparations, an apology, a special day, and a fleet of white Toyota’s for the fact-finding co-operative.

k. Flood the social media with a putative campaign for the wife of the deposed Premier to be elected in his place in 3 year’s time.

We’re no fools. We understand elections. We know our chance when we see it. When the situation demands it we can be as revolting as the next state.