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Some things plague me. Too many cocks on the dance floor. Bottle shops closing at 8pm. Impotence. I could go on…

She doesn’t even know what’s coming! Or what’s not coming…

As much as I would like to write something enlightening, spiritual and/or truly profound, that might hopefully invoke feelings of clarity in the readers of my posts, I can’t help but continue to write about the kind of crap that slightly ill-adjusted child in your elementary school spouted after consuming multiple cans of full-sugar carbonated beverages that may or may not have been doped with amphetamines by his alcoholic reprobate parents.

My dad gave me some white powder and told me it was a special sherbet that I have to sniff!

We spent a rather significant percentage of working hours today discussing how we wanted to disembowel the culprits responsible for the half-concrete, half-dogshit hybrid that forms the surfaces of the Redfern footpaths. After having mused about the possibility of making videos in which we confront those responsible for these scars on our city, we decided being stabbed with HIV-infected needles and beaten to death by mobs of irate unemployed Redfern residents wasn’t really preferable to dying from physical exertion in bed with beautiful women; the only condition we can possibly comprehend ending our lives under.


We do, however, sincerely hope that the years of our denial of an omnipotent spiritual being are shown to be ill-lived when said being creates a localised hailstorm of festering dogshit directly above the guilty parties of the dogshit pandemic.

Thank you for your awesome manifestation of justice in the form of a literal shitstorm, Oh wise Lord.

In other news, I viewed a no-holds-barred marketing confession centred around the mass cruelty inherent in high-density farming. It wasn’t anything new to me, having watched Speciesism a few weeks back and being generally critical of the meat industry anyway; having been vegetarian since birth having maybe played a part in my left-wing view. Far from sitting on a high chair, watching these documentaries affected me as strongly as anyone else. Time and time again I find the meat defenders rallying behind such defenses as “agricultural practices are far more damaging to natural ecosystems than slaughtering livestock”. In reality, no vegetarian or vegan can claim to be following the most benevolent path unless they give up their entire way of life and live as a hermit in a cave, for humanity in the 21st century is a bane for far more reasons than the food industry.

I ain’t got my iPhone, or electricity, but… I got my heart, I got my soul, I got my back, I got my sex (although it’s a lot harder to come by without Tinder…)

The extent to which we have asserted our dominance at the expense of other species and even other cultures of humanity is so widespread and seemingly permanent that we can only hope to feel like we are making a difference. The movements for veganism, for gay rights, for safe working conditions in Bangladesh: all of these are like putting band-aids on the cuts that we are getting for crawling through a thorn bush. We won’t stop getting cut until we get out of the thorn bush and find another path. That’s not to say that I feel that those engaged in philanthropic activities are in any way expending their time in futility, but rather that we need to make changes on such a large scale it would be analogous to willing our blood to be blue.

Here’s another fish! “Can’t you teach me how to catch them?” Nah! Take the fuckin’ fish!

At some point, you have to accept that we are where we are, and without literally being crushed by the weight of the debt we have to repay, just repaying what we can.

You don’t have to turn vegan today. You don’t have to give all your money to charity. Just be aware of the sacrifices made so that you can google the restaurant you want to go to next week, or the layers upon layers of technological infrastructure that have amounted to your flight to Hawaii. Turn the world upside down in your mind, and live like your birth was a miracle rather than an inevitability.

We had to die for you to be here. Fuckin’ ungrateful prick.



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