"Gerry Harvey's reported statement that this country needs a dictator is the sort of thing a world-class bozo would say. It's also the sort of thing your average mouth-breathing idiot down the pub would say before he was halfway into his first schooner, but the huge numbers of mouth-breathing idiots who'd agree with Harvey doesn't make his idea right. Just dangerous."
The Great Barrier Reef is almost certainly doomed. But that's OK, because our own doom is only probable, not certain. It will die before we do. It will die because of us. But we are such a resourceful, inventive, endlessly self-seeking species that we might yet survive the catastrophe we have visited upon the planet. Maybe in domes.
Yes, huge city-sized domes with a Soylent Green stall on every corner. That would be cool.
10 Responses to ‘First we kill the reef, then we kill ourselves’
Governments in QLD have the architectural responsibility from changing Brisbane from a big version of Gympie to a modern working city. Sometimes they get it wrong.
3 Responses to ‘West End Growing Pains’
Sometimes, you just gotta go early to catch the news.
“Dude, seriously, let me pack that cone. You got no thumbs.”
Borobi squinted at me through the thick haze of weed smoke.
“Don’t patronise me, JB,” he muttered. “I’m special now, bro. You gotta show some respect.”
But he was already three buckets into the wind and it took him a long time time to say this, what with all the coughing and wheezing getting distracted by his breakfast beer.
He necked the last half of the beer in one long pull, belched enormously, and fell back against the front of the brown couch. Traffic roared past outside our flat at Nobby’s but Rob’ didn’t hear it. He just lay there on the floor contentedly drumming his fat, greasy paws on the matted and filthy blue fur of his grossly distended belly.
9 Responses to ‘That time I smoked cones with a blue koala’
With half a billion dollars. Or not:
Maybe the pile of unpaid bills on the kitchen bench isn't getting any smaller. Maybe you only half-fill the petrol tank to save on burning fuel driving the weight of a full tank around. Maybe, like me, you have on occasion resorted to shamelessly feeding yourself from the free samples at the supermarket on a Saturday morning.
But by god, if Lucky Phil can pull this off, so can we. And unlike the real crooks, who are all listed on the stock exchange, we won't hide our well-gotten gains in some shady offshore account. We'll put it on the keycard, openly, honestly. All 600 million dollars of it.
Because, you know, wow.
8 Responses to ‘He's not the messiah. He's a bricklayer’
Do you want the carob nazis to end civilisation? Well, do you?