Team Climate Change was happy with its overall performance and looks forward to spewing more fossil fuels into the atmosphere at Monza in April. Less happy was Team Arctic Melt, who felt new rules penalised their Hot Club of Paris style. Team Driverless Uber caused a sensation, ploughing into the crowd, killing five punters in a manner reminiscent of truck terror attacks, before hurtling ignominiously into Albert Park Lake. Team Ecological Degradation took line honours with a race described as “studied indifference”. The winner this March (again!), Team Empty Vessels, lived up to its sponsor’s elitist motto: ‘Brainless and Thirsty’.
Friday, 23 March 2018
And the Big Prize goes to high visibility officials telling people where to get off; bouncers with lanyards ‘exit all areas’; installers of tall fences blocking access to people’s parks; movers of barricades isolating whole suburbs; flag waving chequered careerists; exhaust pipe merchants and pit stop pit bulls; great pricks who fill blue atmosphere world over with tumult and fumes; eye-glazed brain-numb petrol heads paying the ultimate privilege for entertainment signifying nothing; March madmen spool drooling over wheeling dealing speed toys; drones drugged with droning droning of ground bound drones; gung-hos in din bins; fiery colliders who walk away anti-heroes.
Thursday, 22 March 2018
That unearthly dark blue, fade-out stars, its dependent crescent moon. That black, a side street cold despite another warm promise. That dark brown, phased in by unseen fires below Dandenongs. That clotting of grey cloud pink cloud, then zigzag flocks. That grey turning pale blue, placid as its Yarra reflections. That primrose tinge, extending to a line merging light particles. That blue, affirming anew the calendar: Morning, Thursday, March, Lent. That gold, all might all majesty, shadowing our familiar flesh. That red, tiny flames at the very edge of imagination. That green forgotten all night, pattern patterns of ancient resolution.