“Well,” he said, “its good for all of us. The King’s mob are gonna keep givin’ us lots of free money … ” He’s a toothless old Queenslander rattling around on the margins of existence, ablaze in a marooooons jumper and today he’s all up in arms about Princess Popular’s corruptions and the great benefit the King’s been to old fashioned Aussie ideals. One more reason that us over 55s shouldn’t be able to vote on the plans for the future of the Lucky Country.

“What you are seeking is justice. What we are interested in is something else – State Justice.” – Joseph Goebels.

He points out to me (because I of course disagree about every last corruption that the King and his band of Thieves have bought to our country over the past decade) that without the King we’d have 10 million dead from the super-flu, and we’d be overrun with multi-coloured and multi-cultured refugees thieving all our water and taking the education from our lovely children for free … And, he points out, the foreigners would still be burning coal, but as he says, “cheap coal from third world countries!” Lord, I slap myself again … gotta get me one o’ them marroooon jumpers; they impart great wisdom.

The King, saving Australia from the new world with his authorised corruptions. Then, of course, he points out how despicable Too Busy Gladys is for having herself a private life and dealing with China behind ‘our’ backs. ??? Lord ! … Tie me to the reverse end of a donkey and rub me all over with a Queensland banana!

You know kids, this fella votes. And you know what else kids? This fella says Australia could do with a change – he means by Oshtralia, Queensland – he says, there’s nothing wrong with Dirty Pete Dutton being Premier of Queensland and running Australia’s police departments too. I point out, that while he’s not likely to be Queensland premier, the Dickhead from Dickson is already running Australia’s police departments through his discretionary corruptions and the King’s secret cabinets.

How did this conversation begin? The seventy-five year old marroooon jumper just chewed out a couple of young backpackers for not being able to speak English proper – they’ve been attempting to see if they could get work, slaving away for pittance, up in sunny Bowen – and I’d offered them some free fruit and vegetables from the orchard I’d just abandoned. Poor old fucker, had to turn down his TV just so the wife and he could listen into our conversation. Suspicious we are in our little vans with interstate registration.

The poor young fuckers, on the holiday of a lifetime and border bound in God’s country for nine months with no longer a cent to their name due to Australia’s humanity. “Serves em right,” says the old fella, “they should all be made to learn proper English before they get here! And,” says he, “they should have to deposit a 20 000 Krona bond before they’re allowed in. And, not only that, damned foreigners shouldn’t be able to take a red cent out of Queensland when they leave!”

I disagreed, they’re going to pay their fair taxes and they deserve our hospitality. “You’re a fuckin’ communist,” he says … “You with your Republican stickers, and,” he spits! “democracy, corrupting the kids. You just wait til after the elections … Then, then we’re gonna be able to have your lot all shot!”

We should be so lucky. God save the King, says I.

“The thirst for moral justification for one’s life in the world is one of the deepest needs, one of our most powerful and essential human drives, ignored at our cost and at our peril” – Stephen Koch.