Saturday, 8 September 2012

Raised Fist, Foaming Hysteria

Certain things leave an indelible impression. Imprinted once, impossible to unremember. Things happen; things are said and from then on and for forever you don’t just remember how you felt but where you were and what you were doing when you felt it.
Now, New Norfolk Tasmania will forever fire my core and stir in me an evocative emotional response. I will remember where I was walking and how the sky looked and that the man with the rats-tail and the Willie Loman posture was coming quite close to me jesus god why is he coming so close to me?...
Just prior I had said we need to stop in this town this town is extremely inbred and these people have many problems let’s mingle among them and flaunt our robust genetics and revel in the fact that we have roofs furnishing our mouths and let’s also buy some cream to spoon over the top of those strawberries we got…  
I couldn’t see a supermarket I stopped to ask the old ladies “five dollars forty nine for ONE CAULIFLOWER” “oh you’re JOKING Shirl” in Vinnie’s they directed me towards Woolworths and on the way my phone surged into service and started hemorrhaging messages.
The last three were from GavSpaz and unopened made my heart seize up and scrunch down into a fist inside my chest so that I was only able to wheeze words to the effect of I CAN’T OPEN THESE I CANNOT DEAL WITH WHAT WILL BE IN THESE MESSAGES I’M NOT READY
As I was summoning the courage to open them and face whatever realities lay within the phone rang in my hand a blast from the angel Gabriel’s trumpet it was a private number I just assumed it to be my brother and answered it by barking “YES, WELL WHAT WAS THE RESULT??!”
“What” he said, “didn’t you read your messages?”*
I can’t really say what happened from there. I think there was a fist raised in the air, I think it was my fist but it could have belonged to Mussolini on the balcony, or Stanley Kowalski or Lleyton Hewitt or any of the Jersey Shore cast on the dance floor or anyone who has ever raised their fist held it aloft in the air and pumped it in a heightened/unhinged emotional state…

*These were his messages:

1.    Raiders look absolutely shithouse
2.    I hope you haven’t bothered driving somewhere to watch this, they fucking stink
3.    Dane Tilse kicking on the 6th tackle sums up the day
4.    Coming good in the second half though….
5.    And Croker got a critical kick – there is something new!
6.    Ferguson having a blinder. He thinks this is fun!
7.    Great comeback. Huge! Down 22 to 6 halftime but came back and gave em a floggin, scored 36 unanswered points in 2nd half to win 42 to 22

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