Food Miles

That bastard, Stephen Matchett, has been getting some giggles out of wryly taking the piss out of food miles. Let me just say this, there I was in front of ABC2, watching some hippie bloody Californians deliver organic Amish food to the non-starving ultra-trendoids of some shit hole in the god damn USfirkenA, I think it’s called Lost Angels or some shite, anyway there I was, having a delusional hippie moment that the world was worth saving, it must have been caused by the John Butler Triage, that this particular bogan redneck miner, still fatuously in love with a dead pit bull, armed only with a sand dune wrecking 4WD and a boldly big machete, was thinking, oh perchance, maybe there is some sense in a carbon pollution reduction scheme. And I’m not talking about my macro-biotic diet of mung beans and alfalfa on rye to reduce methane emissions out my own exhaust. No, no, no. This is the real deal. Taxing that maniacal carbon to death so that hippy and non hippy farmers alike, within spitting distance of my verandah, can supply vegetables to my carbon friendly refrigerator, cheaper than those capitalist zionist infidel supermarkets. So if that woman, that non Pauline Hanson variety of an anxiety pill, wants me to vote for something other than my donkey, well let her know that this next election better be about our next great big bad enormously new tax, the evil carbon monster. I know, I know, that the anxiety of the day is leaky boats and an understandable overt phobia of stone age cretins who think that morality starts with a good old fashioned stoning, but it’s really about a morality cleansed future and that cleansing will obliterate, not just the opium producing stone age, but make healthy food a reality. And fork Matchett, the prick, with a rye sandwich. As old wise man says often, spooning leads to forking. Let that be a lesson to the sustainable population rent a crowd, As long as the PM Sarah Packs, doesn’t mention climate change we won’t have to deal with any anxiety. The CPRS needs it’s own legs on pure economic grounds to win over bastard pseudo conservatives such as my good self. I was only kidding when I said I would vote for something other than my donkey.