Love letter of despair to my fiance

Honey, peel off your panties and grab the cognac. We’ll roll back the sunroof, bust out of this paved prison and tear up the Hume in a streak of molten, righteous fury. Forget veering off into the city that never wakes, there’s no respite for us there. Hokey-pokey crackpot lawmakers with revolving heads are spewing enough venom to kill all the grass within a six mile radius of the special house. The air is polluted with populist hyperbole so thick that local cats are birthing two-headed kittens. No, push on we must. We’re refugees now and it’s Bandt country or bust. Crank up the Beck, we’re driving til we can scrape the tread off the Yokohamas with a cold butter knife.

It’s just not safe for us here anymore, sweetheart. The pond scum of the media have built themselves a moral vacuum that can suck the skin off a wild pig in full flight. People’s brains are spraying through their ears and the streets are awash with mega-litres of toxic zombie arse-clown. Climate change has got nothing. It’s the threat of concentrated stupid that seeks to destroy us now.

I’m not sure how to break this to you baby, so I’ll just put it to you straight. People hate you. You were born in a third world country, which makes you worth 35% of a nigger in the old scale, allowing for inflation. It doesn’t matter how smart you are, how capable or how damned beautiful you are. You’re a parasite, a blight upon our way of life and a threat to national security. We have fridge magnets warning us of people like you. Hell, we have purpose-built detention centres and you’re so damned obstinate you won’t even avail yourself of their services. You’re an ingrate, and the community has had enough of you not costing the tax payer a cent after we’ve gone to such length and cost to incarcerate you.

The good news is that they hate me with an order of magnitude that dwarfs anything they may feel for you. I’m a class traitor, which is the most heinous intellectual position imaginable among those who struggle to imagine a bowl of porridge. Not only do I love you, I don’t even have the decency to be contrite about it. I couldn’t give a tinker’s curse (which is worth 82.5% of a cobbler’s curse in the old scale) if some woman wants to marry another woman. I want to marry you, and you’re only worth about a third of a nigger. Never mind that you’re of fairer skin than me, I’m white and you’re apparently not. Regarding you as an equal is an insult to every One Nation/LNP voting crab-walker with enough grey matter remaining to negotiate a decent lick of their bus window.

So put your hands or lips to this thing that has come between us, Mrs C. I’ll concentrate on pressing the pedal flat and possibly avoiding school children. Possibly. My sole concern is our survival now, and taking what few pleasures we can from the ever diminishing suite of rights the nutters haven’t yet legislated against. We’ll break into Bandt territory and claim asylum. They can’t turn us away under local rules regarding human decency. The downside is that we’ll have to live in Melbourne, but that’s another problem for another time.

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About Gibbot

Normal working Joe. Occasional musician and writer. Avid reader and political tragic. Humanist. View all posts by Gibbot

9 responses to “Love letter of despair to my fiance

  • Brad Gaylard

    Dude, that is seriously good writing.

  • Gibbot

    Praise from two greatly admired word-smiths. I’m humbled. Thank you.

  • Idlaviv

    Nicely done.

    Got room in your trunk?

  • Austin G. Mackell

    you are channelling The Doctor. Excellent, Excellent writing.

    • Gibbot

      From someone who does the shit for real, Austin, that’s about the kindest thing anyone has said about my nonsense. I get angry – I rant in front of my laptop. You get angry – you buy a ticket and report from the thick of it. You take the ride, as the Dr prescribed. Much respect & thanks. People like you make me want to lift my game.

      Idlaviv – I prefer to keep the boot reserved for enemies. It’s modified to be airtight, so I don’t get any surprises when I drop them off at the Watagans.

  • Nishel

    Holy cow, amazing writing… What else have u got??

  • Stephanie

    Hey Heath; I picked up a copy of the March ‘The King’s Tribune’ off a coffee table somewhere on Smith St, and read your article ‘The Shame of Being Us’.
    Oh gosh, dude. It moved me so much, all the way to tears. It’s as though you were writing what every fiber and pore of my being has been screaming for the past few months since the election, but cannot put down in words as eloquently as you have.

    I fucking hate our government, state and federal, labor and liberal. I feel so utterly betrayed by Julia Gillard, who dares to be a ‘woman’ but has the balls to say marriage should still only be between a man and woman. I hate all those damn spineless politicians who are supposed to be servants of the public, shaping our country to be a better place and are instead barking at each other in parliament like schoolyard bullies at Northcote High.

    I feel as though we’re going down a road with is very clearly a dead-end with some huge gaping media chasm where Joe Hockey awaits eagery to eat our children. Okay so that’s a bit much. But still, you get what I’m saying.

    Wow, I’ve ranted on. Sorry about that. I suppose what I mean in the end is – fuck mate, you are so right, and I wish there was something I could do to fix this fucking country and all the fat middle-aged rich conservatives who sit on the corpses of the working class, funding the major parties and ruining any progress forward into a better, wiser, greener future. I really don’t have a head for politics and I am a sensitive little vegimite, so if I stepped onto the political scene and tried to make a different I’d probably be raped, skinned and eaten alive, and not in that order. For now, all I can do is vote for the Sex Party (durr…) and wait with baited breath for that Breath-Of-Fresh-Air politician my mind firmly believes is out there, to come in and rescue the parliament dogs from themselves. (I have to believe this politician exists, somewhere, just waiting to kick ass and take names. Poor Rudd – i really thought it was gonna be him).

    *breathes*. Okay. I really am done now. In conclusion, thank you so much for writing that article – now I know I’m not the only one.

    • Gibbot

      Wow. Thanks Stephanie. I’m kind of amazed that anyone would bother to read my inane scrawlings. When someone connects it feels worthwhile.
      This blog is nothing more than a punching bag – something I can pound out my frustration upon. I’m no scholar and no writer. I leave the serious stuff to my betters. For that you should check out Drag0nista’s Aerie, Grog’s Gamut and Dave from Albury. When I work out how to update my blogroll I’ll provide links.

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