Love in the Age of Txt Mss

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Kerry Cue CARTOONFaster. Faster. Quick. Quick. Click. Do it. We live in a high-speed click-on click-off culture where little time is dedicated to thinking things through and a great deal of time is spent making snap decisions and,  as I suspect when flicking through the free to air TV channels mumbling ‘Not that one. Not that one. Nup. Maybe. Nah’, we also dedicate a lot of time to trivial indecision. It seems that we are often faced today with too much choice yet, paradoxically, too little of what we actually want.

Needless to say, romance, love and commitment are duly processed by the culture into a series of quick click decisions. There is speed dating, sex texting (or sexting), instant text dumping (Iz ova gdby) and one-click defriending on Facebook. It is a wonder that anyone can actually fit a wedding into such a quick turn-around dating schedule. Then again, a wedding does offer an option not available with most other outings namely a 5,000 pic photo opportunity. It’s a pity when couples divorce that they can’t simply photoshop the dub partner out of the wedding pics and insert the new one.

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Unleash Your Libido

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Kerry Cue CARTOONI’ve always wanted to go into therapy, not to be analysed but to lie on a couch and talk without being interrupted. I grew up in a household where the dinner table was a constant cacophony of noise, elbowing, arguing, speed eating and random displacement.  Finishing a sentence with a verb and without shouting ‘Just shut up for a minute’ was an achievement akin to grand eloquence.

How did such a freewheeling childhood impact on our psyches? Who knows? I’ve just come to the conclusion that keeping sane in my family is best achieved by assuming they’re all mad.

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My Address to the Nation

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Kerry Cue CARTOON

We are in the lead up to Australia Day. We know this glorious day is imminent by the sudden appearance in supermarkets of Aussie-flag themed thongs, mini-Eskys and stubby holders. This means it is, once again, time for my Annual Address to the Nation.

Turn off any mobile phones, digital devices and Bluetooth thingys and pay attention. This year I have one question to ask. What’s wrong with you Australia? We are currently engaged in a world event called the end of capitalism. You are involved in this post-apocalypse scenario and you, at this very minute, should be pushing a supermarket trolley down some spookily empty urban street in fingerless gloves while preparing to hole up in a dank, decaying concrete car park to roast an anorexic rat in a beaten up hubcap for lunch. Western Civilisation as we know it is, obviously due to the fingerless gloves/supermarket trolley situation, in decline.

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THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD IN 100 STUFF UPS

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 6000BC: Beer invented. Knuckle walking returns. Evolution set back centuries.

3000BC: Babylon sacked. 1st spin. Not sacked. Downsized.

2600BC: Great Pyramid built at Giza. Cheap group tours begin.

 2200BC: Stonehenge. 1st large scale DIY garden feature.

2000BC: Horse domesticated. 1st bet. 1st horse nobbled. (See 6000BC above)

1334BC: Tutankhamen made Pharaoh. Royal inbreeding program starts.

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Hissy Fit Nation

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That’s it. Right. I’m over it. I’m not putting up with this idiocy anymore. If I have to deal with this nonsense one more time – just ONE more time – I think I might take an axe and smash … no, not an axe. I’ll pepper spray them… look, you can only take so much of this ridiculous, mind-numbing incompetence before you snap. Snap! Just like that!

Damn! That feels good. What’s my problem? Nothing really. Everything, maybe. I was just practising being a Drama Queen. Have you noticed that we Aussies have turned into a nation of hissy-fit throwing Drama Queens? Even if you’re not a main contender, the other 22 million Aussies are up for it. There is always someone on the tellie, in a crowd, in a shop, in a restaurant or in a queue somewhere, who is annoyed, outraged, spitting the dummy, stamping their feet and/or generally getting really pissed off with the service, the government, the universe and everything.

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Anarchists R Us

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Happy little campers around the world have set up tent cities or, as in Australia, mini-Global Villages in solidarity with the Occupy Wall Street anarchists. Entertaining YouTube clips show a passing parade of blood-smeared zombies, dread-locked jugglers, wide-eyed babies in pushers, sign-totting anarchist nana’s, unshaven rough-necked unionists with megaphones, thin, wispy-bearded, hand-knit-jumper-wearing vegans, red coated trombonists, Che Guevara flags and hand-made protest posters everywhere.

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Hens Behaving Badly

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Weddings. I’ve been to a few: traditional, hippy, Greek (Vows were pledged in Greek then translated. The feminists gasped when they heard the word ‘obey’), Italian (400 guests seated at trestle tables in the local town hall with little boys in suits running and skidding on the polished floor boards), on a farm (with mooing cows. It was more an ‘I moo’ than an ‘I do’.), in a restaurant (my own wedding), at a registry office (The bride was 8 months pregnant and wore black), in a church with Millie the Golden Retriever as a bridesmaid, a B-team wedding (Married the week before, the couple dressed up again for a party with the B-team guests. We got the B-team speeches too!) and more.

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Generation Whinge

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‘I’m driving in my car … I turn on the radio … Dada-da-da … something, um … You’re a liar … Da-da. Ooooo! FIRE!’ All right. I’m no Bruce Springstein. I was driving in my car, radio on, and turned off to the world when I heard voices. Natasha Stott Despoja was being interviewed on the ABC. She said she loved hearing people like demographer Bernard Salt explain distinctions between the generations. And I quote. I have to write ‘And I quote’ because I nearly ran off the road when I heard her following statement, so I podcast the interview to check the facts.

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Holy App

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You have probably heard about the new blessed iPhone/Smart Phone App called ‘Confession: A Roman Catholic App’. Developed by three young US tech-heads with the blessing of the local church, the App provides a step-by-step guide to confession for Catholics. The age-specific, sin check list includes questions like ‘Did I tattle tale or sulk?’, ‘Am I chaste?’ (That’s a little olde worlde. Young readers will have to Google ‘chaste’. It’s not chased or chaffed.), ‘Have I been guilty of masturbation?’ and  ‘Have I been guilty of a homosexual activity?’ So it’s a user-friendly Sin App for the time-pressed sinner.

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Psycho Oz

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Australians all let us freak out

For we are spooked you see;

We’ve a scary land, we don’t understand;

Our home is so creepy. Our land’s red heart is sort of weird

There’s freaking nothing there!

We cling to the coast, a British outpost;

Freak out Australia, yeah!

How is it that yet another national disaster has hit us and we are, yet again, shocked, stunned (like a mullet, I guess), and wandering around in dazed disbelief? What is it about our short-term/long-term memory loss that we have forgotten, willfully or accidentally, that it has all happened before? Is this, perhaps, some form of widespread Aussie Alzheimer’s?

Moreover, what is it about our market-driven, managerial-cliché muttering mentality and our spin-swallowing, nanny-state, needy attitudes today that we think we are in control? Have we learned nothing from inhabiting this wide brown and savage land for 200-plus years or, in some cases, 40,000-plus years? We Aussies are cot cases. Honestly.

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