3.46am Motivation Aspiration
Then suddenly, I found it. Well, not really, suddenly, I read it this morning, rolled my eyes at her rolling her eyes, did some other stuff, crawled into bed at about 3am, laid awake and then realised I might actually have something worth writing about.
For those not up to speed, the author of this piece is none other than Marieke Hardy. Marieke Hardy's claim to fame in life is being the granddaughter of Frank Hardy, the commie author who slandered a bunch of other non-commie people of note, and generally sneering and pissing all over anything that the mainstream like, through her roles on public broadcast services such as the ABC or Triple J, provided to you by the Australian Federal Government, which is in turn brought to you by that very same mainstream who generally make up the 20% of the population who consider themselves to be swinging voters with no political allegiance one way or another. Funny how things work. Marieke Hardy's other accomplishment was getting semi-naked for Black & White magazine, but that is neither here nor there.
Marieke Hardy also had a blog at some point, that served no other purpose than to define female sexual liberation as being socially acceptable on the basis of how useless your university degree is and whether or not you had one, or creative expletives that even make my eyebrows raise up with "Whoa".. To borrow some of her own vernacular, I'd consider her to be nothing more than a total walking cuntdribble of a human being. (Which, lack of gyno knowledge aside, I guess makes me a pap smear by default..)
The article in question sneers and frowns at the 2.1 million people who were obviously wrong enough to dare tune in to watch Hey Hey It's Saturday, as if by doing so, you were supporting the spreading of AIDS, liberating every other un-democratic nation left, building weapons of mass destruction AND may or may not have said something that could be half-construed as an anti-Israel sentiment all at once. You see, kids. If it wasn't on the ABC, it wasn't worth a pinch of shit, and is obviously commercial garbage designed only to make profit. Not just profit, but evil profit. This isn't the time to point out that the ABC board has been stacked with Liberal appointees for the last decade, as it was obviously somewhere else that the cultural enlightenment comes from.
Hey Hey It's Saturday, and it's target audience, succinctly summarises the hopes and dreams of the Aspirationals that one John Howard once spoke of. Whilst I doubt JWH would say it in such a way that I have - generally, if the highlight of your week is sitting down in front of the TV with your family to watch Daryl Somers shit on to John Farnham about his new album for the millionth time, you're obviously too busy doing other remotely important/successful stuff to have the time for anything else. Work, kids, friends, bills, mortgages, car servicing. This blog is fast becoming an AXA ad.
To paraphrase Churchill, if you're not a communist at 17, you've got no heart, if you're not a capitalist by 21, you've got no brain. Unfortunately the brainless of the Brunswick st bourgeois also lack foresight in this area also. Eventually, the dream does become more than that studio apartment or renovated warehouse off Smith/Brunswick st, and the concept of a two bedroom house in the outer suburbs with 2.2 kids becomes more than just that place you're told to fuck off to by CBD nightclub wenches come closing time, but instead, an exciting reality.
You're a fool if you ever want to save enough to buy a house outright, or want to work hard enough to pay the repayments. Why would you want to do that when you have an entitlement to a Government that will give you a state funded one (probably complete with pink batts), and of course, a first home buyers grant toward a loan that you probably can't afford just yet, that only serves as paying off the inflated market value of the property that having such a loan in the first place serves to create. Why aspire to have what is yours, when the Govt have housing commission so close to Chapel and Brunswick streets?
Why have children of your own, when theres a perfectly good Government system set up to encourage low-income earners to breed for the country, at a one off fee that barely gets you a decent dual-tuner on the plasma screen these days? If only the Bogans and the Bundy-full are breeding, then the Government can point to both workplace productivity and it's great welfare system. If you're educated well enough not to make an alliteration on your first born's name, deliberate or otherwise for "uniqueness" (and I do beg any potential parent reading this not to consider that for a name either), then, well, this current Government doesn't like you and your aspirations (also probably not a good idea for a baby name).
Despite it serving as a platform for Red Faces contestants to come out and claim the impossibility of them being racist, for they too are an ethnic minority and therefore completely unable to discriminate on grounds of race, against the grandstanding claims of someone from a country whose own track record on civil rights is arguably worse than ours, the show is relatively controversy free. Reminiscent of the scene in The Castle where the Kerrigan family watch The Best of Red Faces, it can shock some to discover that laughs can be had at relatively unfunny material, it can even be unoriginal, or unable to provoke thought or debate, perhaps even for the simple notion that laughing at something inoffensive removes the chance of being looked down upon for laughing at something with more potential to segregate such as The Chaser or Summer Heights High.
Eventually, most of us move away from the Brunswick st latte hangout, and look toward the first born, the first home, or the first car. Eventually we as human beings grow tired of being handed things and desire to earn them ourselves. By contrast, the small minority do hang around at the back of the latte store, the beret gets more outrageous, the t-shirt with the social conscience slogans become more profound, and the nose gets higher and higher to be looked down from, the next time someone dares to create something, rather than be handed it.
:snorteyerollsnootylaugh
