State of the Nation

John Birmingham is an author of renown, and also writes for the Brisbane Times, John's blog Blunt Instrument is always entertaining - this one deserved to be re-posted in its entirety.

State of the Nation
July 06, 2009

I'm not sure how we got off topic, while discussing Nick Earls' latest book at my private blog t'other day, but things turned decidedly parochial when trying to explain regional Australian differences to my American readers.


A certain Bob of Nowhere, chimed in with the pithy observation that generally speaking Queenslanders are tall, strong, fit, likeable, easy going and sun-kissed. New South Welshman, on the other hand, are all "crooks, fast talking schemers or waxed-back active participants in The Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Mardi Gras with tans from sun beds". He thought Victorians to be old moneyed snobs, clinging to aspirations of high culture as a drowning man would cling to flotsam, frequently pallid and a touch Undead looking, while Tasmanians entirely too frequently marry close blood relatives, resulting in high numbers of ginger kids with stark white freckled skin. Bob explained to our American friends that there no actual West Australians, simply transient shift workers flying in and out. South Australians and Northern Territorians meanwhile were all "truck driving psychopaths with a tendency to stab people with screwdrivers" before dumping the bodies down disused mineshafts, or in barrels at the back of old bank safes.

Well, I'll not have it, Bob, I tell you. You're wrong.

You completely forgot to mention that South Australian serial killers are differentiated from their northern neighbours by a penchant for donning black leather mankinis when on the job, and that there are a number of bona fide West Australians, but they're all resident in Bali, where they can be found at most busy intersections vomiting up magic mushroom omelettes while still bartering for the best morning price on a $2 Weagles singlet.

Nor are all Victorians uptight, cadaverous nimrods with mouths like puckered cats' anuses. Some instead are cadaverous and uppity tightwads with tiny little coin purses fashioned from pussycat scrotums out of which they are want to worry a penny or two to rub together around escaped Tasmanians, other mental patients and anyone of even vaguely loose moral turpitude, in the hope of encouraging any of the above to offer the sort of gymnastic sexual shenanigans that fit, tanned, Queenslanders grinning like Cheshire cats are rumoured to enjoy on an almost daily basis with holidaying swimwear models, Olympic dive champions and Playboy Bunnies.

Such rumours being true of course.

You also neglect to mention the high number of escaped convicts and parole violators who make up 103 per cent of the Northern Territory's population, the statistical anomaly being due to the double counting of certain individuals who've added identity theft and welfare fraud to their core skill sets of abducting backpackers and driving at 400kmh between Alice Springs and that bit of the highway where they hit an echidna and their ute explodes.

Fair call on the New South Welshman though.