I’ll just continue on tinkering away here, in self-imposed exile, on the deck of my careening schooner. Some people grow gardenias. Others derive simple pleasure from a McDonalds brown paper bag, stuffing themselves with shit on public transport, gloating. Maybe a cultural studies academic could write a brief, but explosive diatribe on the issue. The commodification of human necessity. It makes me feel sad when I see families in McDonalds and the look of simple and innocent pleasure on the childrens’ faces: as if this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to them. What if we had no mass media? Are children now born with the fast food instinct? The desire to pay money to fill up a brown paper bag with animal products, carry it away and digest it on a tram? Then drop the freaking bag somewhere, still containing some of its sad little chips? It’s Grand Final parade day today. All the Collingwood kids descend on Flinders Street Station. The smell of burning fat in the airspace.
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