Recruited by ASIO and the Signals Directorate George worked tirelessly as our front man during the Cold War.
Dear reader ,we return once again to our saga our heroes travelling upwards at last. But coming up for air? as Orwell would postulate or about to go down again.? Where the highs are lows and the lows are more marginal than Craig Kelly’s sense of civic responsibiity there maybe nowhere else to go. But their faith in themselves remains undiminished. We should all share their optimism. So take a pill, or another sachet of Bex powder, pour a new years whiskey and play your favourite George Formby 78’s because in this episode our heroes may yet unlock the key, or wipe the slate and flush the system to do whatever it takes to step into a new dawn, on the night of their new morning and pluck Honor Blackman from the jaws of victory,
Read on if you dare.
Ces and Quent continued in their fateful philosophising of their role as mere specks in the great confluence of what scientists refer to as history…
Before AUKUS there was the protection and security offered by the Maginot Line. George entertains the troops. (rumoured cause of the Maginot failure).
‘Didn’t Derrida, or Fukuyama or that other silly yank bastard or some other post modernist proclaim the ‘death of history’? Wasn’t it some froggy intellectual like Barthes who banged on about post- modernism and had us all navel gazing at why we should be guilty for inheriting two thousand years of collective wisdom so we wouldn’t die of small pox and believe that Obama was an alien or the Clintons reptilian other world- beings? Isn’t that the substance of what history is these days’?
‘Yup mate that was before instagram. Now history is digital. More histrionic than history itself. History these days is reality television. A twitter post from Donald or Clive Palmer and whatever Facebook morphed into. The Meta verse’? Ces enquired, ‘yeah something like that. The Brave New Virtual World where you don’t even have to look outside, its all in the ether. You can spend an entire lifetime contemplating your navel then go up your own arse and emerge from between your false teeth and epiglottis and ask yourself what you’re having for breakfast? The whole realm of nature, ecology, natural history and everything that’s beautiful and can’t be converted into bits or meta- data is irrelevant, and all that’s left is shopping and self absorption. It’s a paradise for the self obsessed and infinitely more rewarding than stupid stuff like literature, music, poetry and painting. The skill is not in execution, but being so consistently self-absorbed you can fuck yourself on a daily basis and be replenished as you do it. It’s nirvana of the neophyte. The miasma of the modern era. And you cant get more moderner than that’!
An Australian genius
The famous French Philosopher, ‘Danton Porquois-Pus’, Famed for boring people so tediously he turned to stone.
Quent shuddered at Ces’s distortions, malapropisms and grammatical inexactitude, but recognised the truth within. ‘You’re right Ces, here we are in deep space for all it matters a blue light to the front of us, Sophie and Terry at the controls and Benny-Boy in the rear. I don’t know what Foucault or any of those froggy post modernists would interpret this, but to my logic we’re more fucked than a refugee boat in the Arafura Sea looking for refuge, a decent meal and a fair hearing. Didn’t they say in space no-one can hear you scream? We’ve been yelling our heads off for years and no one’s listening. Not even Sophe, as she’s used to not being heard’. Quent paused for added emphasis, ‘as a sheila?’. They had both arrived at an end point in Australian society, the role of women. Either of them knew to that conundrum there was no easy answer, as all of them in their own way had been touched by the hand of an all loving GOD.
Only known image of Fukuyama.
Just then the blue light stopped flashing and became much brighter, and within seconds they both realised that their theory about being in a vast subterranean chamber proved correct. For there in front of them to the blue light pulsed with a super-novan intensity, and they could see that it was indeed the lighting apparatus of a dark box-like structure. And as the light grew progressively stronger they could see amongst the black the lettering ‘ Public Order Response Vehicle’ , the type used by Victoria Police. And the vehicle though painted deep black had stopped dead still. They noticed it had been equipped wth train wheels, (bogies) which glinted dully and what they next noticed made them grip the sides of their conveyance for sheer life, because their conveyance was poised upon a spaghetti thin tendril of steel and rail. Their specific track a paper thin thread suspended impossibly thousands of feet above what looked like a gigantic circuit board. A metropolis of underground buildings, warehouses and industrial infrastructure, all dormant, lifeless, model- like and yet, eerily real.
Two Genius’s. In Australia there is no collective noun to describe more than one genius. A failure of our educashion system perhaps?
Why had they stopped, why had everything gone dead still and yet eerily quiet? Find out in our next suspenseful episode. “ A railway in the dark” or “ the Tay bridge’ by Macgonnagal disaster epic re-visited could be a bigger disaster” ….