ARTHUR, the author –
It happened today in this sorry burg.
Mid morning, off in the distance, a disturbing roaring sound like a quite large aircraft in difficulties.
After a while it resolved itself into the sound of motorcycles – all sorts of bloody motorcycles coming from everywhere – all heading eventually along a constricted route caused by belated flood damage repairs to a bridge which under normal circumstances would have taken our toy bearing bikers along a more direct route into our pathetic little town.
Okay. I go out the front and take a gander at proceedings (remember this is Boringsville, nowhere) to observe a solid block of vehicular traffic impinging upon what the authorities jokingly call a ‘mini roundabout’ a few yards down the road.
The military have a term for what I saw this morning.
They’d call it a ‘complete goddamned clusterfuck’.
Others – say, news reporters, might refer to it as a ‘temporary gridlock’.
In any case whatever happened out there this morning was neither caused by motorists, nor motorcyclists – but rather by a college of nincompoops (both public and private sector) who seem unable either to paint a bridge or patch a tiny pothole.
Now, at some stage late morning the bikers must have delivered their goodies to the ‘Salvation Army™’ and dispersed on their merry way.
Further to that point, afterwards –
What speed might a Harley be doing just before shifting into third gear at about 6000 + rpm?
Of course it depends upon the model and the owner’s chosen sprocket ratio.
But definitely a fair deal faster than 60 km per hour in that urban school zone opposite our home.
We’re used to all sorts of drivers hitting the tit past here when school is out but most bikers (except for the occasional twathead) usually confine themselves to the odd throttle blip along there, ‘just for fun’.
Today however, some strange admixture of – what – might have caused these demonstrations of rebelioussness?
Surely this badarse biker scum weren’t feeling hard done by after being conned into delivering charity to needy kids?
What? THEY, THE BIKERS, were the people who established that tradition (repeat, THAT TRADITION)) in the face of the cold-shoulder being displayed by the righteous burghers of our tightwad municipalities these last many decades – so why should they act angry after an event that gave ‘em joy?
Could it be that these people – looking forward to their particular yuletide event had become quite pissed off with the bargeload of threats emanating from those oppressively fascistic raffle winners down in their defended compound in brizzo. (You know newman, the pumpkin, their sort)
Whatever the case the toy run happened today with enough bikers attending the event to make the sky roar and roar again.
It was music to my ears!
So, what did happen this morning?
Did the local piggery ‘observe’ events and ‘note’ the numbers ‘attending’ – then skulk back to their ‘defended compound’?
Or did the clots valiantly go along for the show pretending that they were ‘escorting’ a mob of animals to their pasture?
Were there claw marks on the door jambs as coppers refused to confront the astounding numbers of the motorcycling populace?
Who gives a goddamned fuck either way.
The population of this collapsed state is too bloody stupid to realise their collective human resources - whether they be bikers, midwives or shitcart collectors.
And while the oppressors, whether beattie or newman (or that bitch in between) kept recruiting gendarmerie from other failed states (like south Africa) – we will all continue to be oppressed by that overweening, threatening, twitchy, violent, adipose deposit of mercenary, foreign legion filth of running dogs lately in their employ.
Which leaves the bikers where?
It leaves them departing from a charity benefit blipping their throttles and therefore inevitably annoying the so-called straight arrows in this corrupt, brainwarped, society.
Treat people like shit for long enough - then they’ll turn in the first case to express their contempt to those egregiously giving them the finger.
No more or no less similar, fer chrissakes, than blowing the bugle on Anzac Day is blipping the throttle on yer Harley on toy run day!
Yet without any doubt whatsoever their repeated, collective, feu de joie will have annoyed most of the stolid, braindead, burghers of this pathetic town.
It all goes back to that last article - “COUNSEL FOR CIVIL LIBERTIES” – and how we have all been duped into accepting a divisive and disruptive society from day one by forcing us to play games.
Games are all about ‘divide and conquer’.
The winning is all – sort of blether.
Which has me utterly confounded – considering that some ponce once uttered something like –
“t is not whether you win or lose
But how you play the game.”
Which, these days, has me rolling about on the floor chewing the carpet!
For instance – why the hell would all those bikers today want to play any sort of games with the queensland police farce?
All they ever wanted to do is deliver some joy to needy kids.
It is the police farce wanting to deliver the win or lose element into this occasion.
It is the police farce relying upon brutal, obsolete, social standards that no longer work.
It is them being recruited from overseas – therefore importing bad manners and bad behaviour from that source – putting immense pressure on their fuckwit superiors and therefore, for instance, causing that recent faux pas cover-up of the beating of the African lady in brizzo.
It is them acting like mercenaries under the employ of a mob of twitchy, new age fascists.
It is that mob of twitchy new age fascists that (hopefully) lacked the balls to order in a basketload of shit for those bikers attending the toy run in the electorate of that arch-pig, Dempsey today.
It has all gone beyond a joke.
These (fight for words here) ‘imposters’ somehow con you idiots into voting for them.
Yep. I know.
Brilliant system. Compulsory. No choice either way between one set of dropkicks or the other.
Brilliant system, what?
One pre-chosen/pre-selected arsehole or the other?
So instead of blipping your pathetic throttles – why not turn up at some venue of your choice (in bulk) and make a pledge to refuse to vote for these wankers who are causing you all that grief?
Why not establish the queensland biker’s party – call on all our ‘associates’ and friends.
Then once with a win at that raffle – put newman and his pumpkin in pink nighties themselves!
You have the factual, historical and moral advantage.
Get over it you dorks and cause these fascist dolts enough immense grief that they go – piss off, to live in New Caledonia!