by Gregor Stronach

This week, things are a little topsy-turvy. I’m still unpacking from the “Moving House Extravaganza” last week, which is a colossal chore. I’m fucked if I know how I’ve managed to acquire so much crap over the years, but it’s all there. In boxes. In my living room. Bugger.

My neighbours – the curtain-twitching feebles that they are – are still getting used to the fact that a motorcycle-riding, tattooed man has suddenly appeared in their midst. I’m behaving (so far), if only for the fact that the feuding that occurred at my last place of residence is now the stuff of legend, and I’m desperate for a night’s sleep that isn’t interrupted by sirens. Or knives.

But anyway – for your entertainment and edification, here are the five things I’ve learned this week.

1) Book signings can be dull

Yep – I went out to a bookshop in Paddington to sign books this past weekend, and none of you fuckers turned up… OK, a couple of people did, but for the most part I got to sit around in a bookshop, looking like the proverbial spare dick while people from the leafy suburbs spent their probably-inherited money on cookbooks and oversized copies of photographic collections, because it’s rich people’s porn and thus socially acceptable.

As we sat and whiled away the hour we were there (by ‘we’, I mean myself and two other representatives of the Chaser), we did meet the future of satire – a young chap by the name of Remy who, I predict, will either turn the world of comedy on its head, or go quietly nuts and start carving up bus drivers. He had ‘that’ look about him. Mind you, it’s not so bad – we all have that look about us at that age.

But thanks to everyone who turned up – you know who you are – and thanks to the friendly staff at the bookshop, who didn’t seem to mind too much that three blokes were occupying the space right next to the front door of the shop, steadfastly refusing to help them gift wrap stuff, even though we were clearly doing nothing – except randomly defacing books with rude messages to people we didn’t know.

I love my weekends.

2) Canada gets weirder every day

Just when I thought that prison system schemes couldn’t get any stupider than the Nevada state prison teaching inmates to build custom choppers (motorcycles, for those of you playing at home), Canada comes up with a beauty.

Prison inmates can get cheap tattoos – so cheap, it’s nearly worth going to prison. Nearly.

This initiative is coming from a government that is clearly on its last legs – the Canadian Prime Minister (whatever his bloody name is… I forget. But it wasn’t important to begin with…) has been effectively sacked, his minority Liberal government sunk by a no-confidence vote, after they were busted paying US$85 million to their mates – to do nothing.

Geez… that’s nearly as good as a government spending $55 million dollars to bring the public onside with legislation that it can pass without our explicit consent because it owns the parliament from top to bottom.

Which reminds me – Senator Barnaby Joyce, that loveable dope from rural Queensland, once again has emerged as the only political hope for Australia in the coming months.

Drop him a line, tell him you love him, and ask him for something cool – think of him as the Santa Claus of Federal Parliament… if we could just get every Australian worker to drop by and sit on his knee, I’m sure we’d all get what we want for Christmas. But even if Barnaby doesn’t end up knifing John Howard in the neck at the Coalition Christmas party (as opposed to The Green’s Non-Denominational Festival of International Togetherness and Non-Sexual Hugging), our second wish for the Workplace Relations Bill to be scrapped could come about… you never know.

3) Fucking Priests fucking kids

This week, Father Tarcisio Tadeu Spricigo – a 48-year-old priest from sunny Brazil was sentenced to 15 years in jail. His crime (surprise, surprise) was fiddling with the poor of the parish in a fashion most unsavoury. His victims included a five year old boy. While I don’t profess to understand why it is that Catholic priests seem hellbent on fucking the kids in their care, Father Spricigo takes the cake when it comes to base stupidity. Besides being a filthy paedophile, he’s also a world-class fucking idiot.

He kept a diary, in which he wrote about his scores – it came to light when the boofhead accidentally gave the diary to a nun. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall when he realised it was missing… he could have featured in one of those MasterCard advertisements:

Priests Robes - $179

New Bible and Rosaries - $80

Boiled lollies - $4

The look on your face when you’re busted fucking the children – Priceless.

Anyway – if we doubted that the Catholic Church was in as much trouble in the developing world as it is in the US and Australia, look no further than this statistic from Brazil – there are ten priests behind bars for kiddy-fiddling – and another 40 (yes, forty!) listed as ‘missing’ – and wanted for investigation into allegations of sexual misconduct.

I ask the only question worth asking at this point: What Would Jesus Do?

I’m hoping he’d walk them out into the middle of the Sea of Galilee and hold their heads under the waves until the bubbles stop.

4) Van Nguyen is a goner…

…but Australians don’t really care. At least, that’s what a recent poll on the Sydney Morning Herald website is suggesting.

Of course, the question wasn’t so blunt as to force people to think about their feelings on the matter of Van Nguyen vs The Rope.

That sounds a bit like a hokey boxing match promotion – “It’s Van Nguyen vs The Rope, and this time they’re Coming Out Swinging.”

Anyway… The poll in question asked a very well-put question, clearly designed to gauge interest in the matter – Do you think the Prime Minister should go to the cricket on Friday (the day Nguyen faces the drop).

Not surprisingly, of the 25,000 or so folks who took the time and effort (ha!) to respond, 55 percent said the PM should be watching the Prime Minister’s XI play a quick game against the West Indies, the sound of leather on willow bringing back memories of private schooling for Mr Howard, and hopefully drowning out the anguished screams of Van Nguyen’s mum.

5) North Koreans are freakier than bad acid

It’s true. If you don’t believe me, I urge you to watch a documentary called A State of Mind. While it’s not the most original name for a doco, it remains a brilliant piece of work – if you’re into the idea of laughing at a backward culture, populated by braindead politico-zombies who believe that their country is being led by a dead guy from beyond the grave. Spooky.

The doco is about the ‘ordinary lives of a couple of north Koreans’ and features a day-to-day look at a couple of students - let’s call them ‘Kim’ – who are preparing to take part in the Mass Games, an incredible display of rhythmic gymnastics designed to lift the spirit of the nation, and show the poor, huddled and starving citizens that life under a communist dictatorship is working well and that everything is great.

The doco was put together by an English chap whose name escapes me at the moment – I looked it up, it was Daniel Gordon – who somehow managed to not only convince the North Koreans to let him make the film, but also to keep a straight face while filming. Unbelievable.

The example set by North Korea is a beauty – when I learned that every single person in North Korea wears a stick-pin bearing the likeness of either Kim Il Sung or Kim Il Jong, the capitalist in me went ‘cha-ching!’

Imagine the mint you’d make churning out the little badges… although I don’t see the idea of wearing a little Johnny Howard on my lapel taking off anytime soon, it’s an idea worth keeping up my sleeve, should the lawmakers of Australia get any more draconian in their outlook, and we’re reduced to performing in leotards for a bowl of rice a day.

That’s it for this week – I’ll leave you with these kind words: Those of you that insist on stealing my work and republishing it pretending it’s your own, you are being pissweak in the extreme and making me very unhappy. Also, if you do it, it’s highly likely I’ll find out – and you should be prepared for an invoice, the size of which will boggle your mind so badly you may never walk properly again.

Have a great week!

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