Let Them Eat More Dirt

You must say Yes

 
Cate and Julia* address
the people, “You must say ‘yes’!
   “This country makes pollution†
      far more than any nation;
   we’ll grant you absolution
      by means of more taxation.”

   On their proposed solution,
      upon examination
      I’ll give an affirmation;
I’ll agree with readiness
to a plan to fix their mess: 
   instead of revolution,

   a double dissolution.‡

*  Cate Blanchett, an actress (i.e., a woman who lies by vocation), and Hon. Julia Gillard, a prime minister (and someone who lies by conviction), both support a new tax on carbon dioxide.  Both women seek to persuade the people of Australia that impoverishing themselves, whilst ruining the economy, society and, mayhap, even civilisation itself, would be a Good Thing:  Blanchett does this by participating in an advertisement which lies about the advantages of a carbon-dioxide tax, and the Prime Minister does this, inter alia, by supplying a newspaper article wherein she provides over a dozen lies.  Gillard lies, for example, by insisting, “we [Australia] are the highest carbon polluter per person in the developed world.”
†  i.e., emits carbon dioxide, that beneficent gas, essential to plants and therefore essential to human beings.
‡  a double dissolution is the constitutional mechanism (§ 57 of the Australian Constitution) whereby both houses of federal Parliament, the Senate and the House of Representatives, are dissolved simultaneously, and the Governor-General issues writs for an election wherein every seat in the Parliament is contested.

Let Them Eat Dirt

OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE WARNING:  a vulgar term for the pudenda muliebrum is below.

“If it doesn’t hurt, it won’t work”

A columnist, E. Farrelly,* has said,
“Society will very soon be dead
unless you recognise your filthy ways
have brought about our doom, the end of days.”
Our culture—sooth!—is evil in its hope
to maximise the freedom and the scope
of opportunity for all to dwell
in comfort, not some pious, earthly hell.
The arrogant and smug, disdainful berk†
says, “if it doesn’t hurt, it will not work.”

“The pain,” she says, “of doing as the Greens
commend (but do not practise) means
that we might just survive this awful age
as long as folk can overcome the rage
for medicines and hospitals and such
that use excessive power far too much.
We can’t allow the people to offend
against the future!  We shall make them spend
their filthy lucre, not on luxuries,
but, through taxation, on great subsidies
for solar power and the like; and then
the climate may not be so bad for men.
The government is useless, I concede,
but taxing CO₂ must be agreed,
and any opposition is berserk
for if it doesn’t hurt, it will not work.”

The costs of living are so high for some
who dread the day when ‘carbon’ prices come;
they question whether Farrelly could say
how much the ‘carbon’ tax would make them pay.
“You ought to suffer, it will make you cease
polluting if your power costs increase,”
says Farrelly.  Some cry, “please tell us how,
we’ll pay bills then if we can’t pay them now.”
“Well, pawn your gems!”  The cunt adds with a smirk,
“You plebs prefer to dwell within the murk,
I know, you cling to arms—your gun or dirk—
or even sing some ancient songs in kirk
(against the imprecations of the Turk),
but when it’s time to suffer pain, you shirk.
There’s no defence to pardon such a quirk
for if it doesn’t hurt, it will not work.”

*  Elizabeth Farrelly, of The Sydney Morning Herald, in “Full steam ahead to oblivion”, writes:  “Let’s not pretend. There’s more at stake here than lifestyle.  A carbon tax that did not diminish our living standard would be futile and governments have no business promising, as Swan-Gillard rhythmically do, that petrol or electricity prices won’t rise or that big polluters won’t pay.  The whole point is to impact us, and not in a good way.  If it doesn’t hurt, it won’t work.”
†  rhyming slang, you’ll recall; short for Berkeley Hunt.

“The Leader Has My Full Support”

The Words of Doom

No party leader wants to hear
such words that ever bring great fear,
far worse than “guilty” in a court—
“the leader has my full support.”

No matter how the polls might fall
there’s always hope that, after all,
some issue might reverse the trend,
internal opposition end,
and popularity might soar
unto the heights they’d been before.
For Beasley, Latham, then for Rudd
the words, in turn, that froze their blood
and made their visages distort?
“the leader has my full support.”

Now Gillard daily reads the news
that, deep within the party, views
are these:  she’s past it, looking wan,
completely ruined, done-for, gone;
the party she “put on its tracks”
is ruined by a stupid tax.
So now she’s bunkered, feeling low,
reflecting things can hardly go
much worse than this, when comes a thought
of how her leader’s end was brought,
and how she’d guaranteed to all
she’d not effect her leader’s fall;
is Senator Arbib the sort
who’d plot behind her back? in short,
was he like her?  She hears, in dread,
the reportage of what he said;
her shoulders hunch, her eyes contort—
“the leader has my full support.”

After the Rapture

I was taken up! I was taken up, and then sent back with a message for all mankind!

Verily, it is written:

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles? Even so, every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them. [Matt., vii. 15-20]

The nasty, malevolent Clive Hamilton, the meretricious Naomi Oreskes, the avaricious Al Gore, the very silly Tim Flannery, the criminally insane James Hansen, the gibbering Bill McKibben, and their like—not forgetting the late Robyn Williams—, are as ferocious wolves in the shepherd-like garb of pastoral prophets, but the fictitious, spurious predictions of dreadful doom and their dire, maleficent maledictions are the foul, corrupt fruit whereby ye shall recognise them.

Rejoice!  Clearly, the world is not ending, the glorious globe is not warming dangerously from man’s inventive ingenuity; the foolish, alleged believers of the ancient earth-goddess Gaia do not have your interests at heart in their mischievous, misanthracist, misbegotten misanthropism, but their dismal days of influence are now numbered.  Rejoice, for the beginning of the end—of the lies from hypocritical hierophants in the fallacious, bogus religion of catastrophic, man-made global warming—is nigh.

Perhaps He Shouted, “Allah, Who’s in There?”

OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE WARNING:  a coarse term for excretion is below.

 

His Need Was Great*

The Yemeni arrested
and wrestled to the floor
had thought he had requested
an open toilet door:

“It was a simple error,
I thought I’d be too late,
I meant to cause no terror
by shouting ‘God is Great!’

“Though I teach mathematics
and am a clever swot,
the airline’s weird schematics
had baffled me a lot.

“Arthritic joints were swelling,
you must commiserate;
confusion set me yelling
so loudly, “God is great!’

“The pressure set me rushing
though I was told to sit;
now I’m the one who’s flushing—
I didn’t need to shit.

“Let all this be a lesson:
we should not be irate;
a man might need compassion
when shouting “God is great!’”

*  Daniel Bates, of The Daily Mail, reports, “The Yemeni man who was wrestled to the floor after pounding on the cockpit door of a plane approaching San Francisco may have mistaken it for the bathroom. Rageit Almurisi cannot speak English very well and could have misunderstood the signs inside the jet, his cousin claimed.”  See also Jihad Watch.

On the Unreliability of Polls

Vox populi habet aliquid divinum.—Bacon*

When a clear majority of the people opposes the Government’s planned “carbon” tax, for the ABC, that means that there is uncertainty:  “Australians unsure of carbon tax”.

(from Insiders)
Transcript of Barrie Cassidy asking a leading question of an obliging panel, 
Sunday, 8 May, 2011: 

Barrie Cassidy:  The latest poll showed that Australians are unsure about the carbon tax, with an uninformed 60% opposed to a carbon tax, with only 30% wisely, sensibly and correctly in favour.  The question was, “Do you support a carbon tax?”  How distortingly biassed!  Of course the ignorant mob answered incorrectly!  What—as, of course, should have been the case—if the pollsters had asked, “Don’t you support the essential but slight taxing (which won’t affect you at all) of the thousand naughtiest companies polluting the atmosphere with a gas which, though constituting much less the one per cent of the atmosphere, is essential to life on the planet, because a score or so pseudo-scientists, backed by loopy environmentalist groups, want to destroy western industrialisation—I mean, wish to save the planet?  Yes or no.”?†  As it is, now, the media will inaccurately report that many Australians oppose this marvellous, necessary carbon tax!  With what result?  The evil polluters will keep on polluting!  Isn’t that plainly wrong? 
George Megalogenis:  Absolutely!  When people were asked whether they supported the war in Iraq, they weren’t asked a proper question, such as, “Isn’t the war in Iraq a bad, nasty, evil idea which all good people rightly oppose?”, they were just asked, “Do you support the war in Iraq?”! 
Brian Toohey:  The question should include compensation, which is so generous it won’t punish running-dog capitalists who laugh maniacally as they spew evil carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, dooming us all to increased floods, droughts, heat and cold!  Yet, people will hardly notice the tax after they’ve been compensated!
 Nikki Savva:  No, I agree that polluters won’t be punished, and I’m the token conservative!

Note that Barrie Cassidy has never before criticised pollsters for their incompetent surveys or their push-polling questions, exemplified by this.

*  Instauratio Magna, Part I, Book vi, 9. 
†  all right, this transcription may not, in spots, be completely accurate.

Miscellaneous Transcriptions, Nº 2 – the Decisive President

(from weaklylips)

Transcript of a conversation in the Oval Office, 
Tuesday, 28 April, 2011:

Senior Adviser 1:  Here, Mr. President, are three options wherewith we can terminate or capture Osama bin Laden, but we do not advocate either Option One or Three. May I assume that you have no need to read them? 
Pres. Obama:  Quite right; I was elected to lead, not to read! I choose Number One.

Senior Adviser 2:  Mr. President, Option One involves seeking the participation of the Pakistanis; but, since we suspect that some very senior figures in the Military and Government have been helping to hide OBL for years, we included that option only to allow the appearance of your making a choice.
Pres. Obama:  All right then, Number Three! 
Senior Adviser 1:  Mr. President, we don’t recommend the third option.  Option Three involves our bombing the compound wherein Obama— 
Senior Adviser 2:   Osama— 
Senior Adviser 1:   sorry, wherein Osama, dwells, and there is no way of knowing for certain afterwards that we have killed Obama, sorry, Mr. President, I mean Osama—gee, I’m always making that slip, for some strange reason—anyway, with all the destruction effected by a successful bombing mission, we’d likely have no firm proof of having killed Obama, um, of having killed bin Laden, I mean. Plus, he could yet escape. Furthermore, we could kill dozens or scores of civilians unnecessarily.
 
Pres. Obama:  Four, then!
 
Senior Adviser 2:  Mr. President, there is no Option Four. Halve it. 
Pres. Obama:  Five!
 
Senior Adviser 1:  No Five. 
Pres. Obama:   One!

Senior Adviser 2:  Add one—
Pres. Obama:  Two? 
Senior Adviser 1:  As you wish, Mr. President. We thank you for your wise and unparalleled leadership. 
Senior Adviser 2:   Oh, one final clarification, Mr. President. Option Two sends an assault team of SEALs to “kill or capture” OBL: do we emphasise kill or capture? 
Pres. Obama:  Um—

[Minutes pass.]

Pres. Obama:  I’m inclined to say, Yes.  Or, rather, No.  Actually, Yes. 
Senior Adviser 1:  Ah, right. Yes, it is.  Thank you, Mr. President.

A Fairy Tale

Jimmy and the Lump of Coal

Once upon a time, a little boy named Jimmy told many lies.  One Christmas, little Jimmy, who had been naughty all year, received in his Christmas stocking only a lump of coal and no other present.  This upset Jimmy so much that then and there he vowed to hate coal forever and to hate anybody who mined or sold or burned coal.

When Jimmy grew up, he discovered that telling lies did not get him into trouble but instead made many people want to shake his hand and give him dinner and hand him lots of money.   Jimmy was very happy to be rich and famous and invited to lovely dinners all the time, but he was still angry that he had once received a filthy lump of coal instead of a nice present.

Jimmy soon learned that other people liked him even more when he told them how coal was bad and would make the world very unpleasant.  Soon, Jimmy had convinced the king and queen and lots of other important people that coal was so bad that it ought to be banned.

“Coal is so bad that it makes the seas flood the land, and the weather get really hot or really cold, and it will kill all of us very soon,” he shouted.

The people clapped and cheered when Jimmy said such things.  “Coal is so bad that it makes puppies and kittens and cuddly polar bears sad, and all food taste horrid.  Burning coal causes hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, heart disease, all sorts of aches and bad breath!  Stop using coal and people won’t get sick!  If you don’t stop using coal, you will all burn to death or be frozen solid in next to no time,” he yelled.
People applauded Jimmy, and shouted that the king should ban coal.  The king said that he’d start by putting a big tax on coal, which would make it too dear for poor people to buy, and by passing a law which said burning coal was wrong.  Nearly everyone believed Jimmy because he was a friend of the king and queen, and everybody who had ever received a lump of coal for being too naughty, or thought that coal was smelly or dirty, agreed that coal was bad.

Not everyone agreed with Jimmy, though.  Some miners, for instance, who dug coal out of the ground for a living, were angry with Jimmy because they would lose their jobs and have no money to buy food and nice things.  Blacksmiths too were unhappy because without coal they could not make tools and horse-shoes out of iron.  Some wise men said that Jimmy was wrong because there was no proof that coal could make the weather change.

After many years, the king and queen and other important people realised that the seas were not flooding the land at all, and the weather was not really getting worse, and all the other things that Jimmy said would happen had not happened, so they decided that perhaps coal was not so bad after all, and they felt very sorry that many miners and blacksmiths and their families had starved to death when they lost their jobs.

“It’s not our fault, though,” they said. “Jimmy told us that coal was bad and we believed him.  In a way, we are just as much victims as the miners and blacksmiths, because now we feel quite silly.”

Jimmy did not live happily ever after.  He choked to death on some of his own words.  After Jimmy died, the doctors found a lump of coal where his heart should have been.

The End.

A Parliament of Beasts

Who Represents Cock-Robin?*

“Who will talk to men?”
“I must,” announced the Southern Emu-Wren,
“I’ll learn English, then swiftly deal with men.”

“Who’ll fight for each inch?”
“I shall,” yelled the threatened, Black-Throated Finch,
“It will be a cinch to fight for each inch.”

“Who’ll give humans hell?”
“I,” claimed the Christmas Island Pipistrelle,
“I’ll do very well at giving men hell.”

“Who’ll make this legal?”
“Well, I, of course,” drawled the Wedge-Tailed Eagle
“I am so regal, I’ll make this legal.”

“Who will bring a suit?”
“I,” declared the Eastern Barred Bandicoot,
“I shall prosecute any legal suit.”

“Who’ll serve for one term?”
“I,” whispered the Giant Gippsland Earthworm,
“I’ll make humans squirm, and serve for a term.”

“Who will take the poll?”
“Let me, let me!” shouted the Eastern Quoll,
“I shall grab a scroll, and prepare the poll!”

“Who will count the vote?”
“I,” said the Forty-Spotted Pardalote,
“I’ll take careful note, and then count the vote!”

“Who’ll say ‘hyper-bowl’?”
“I,” slurred the Southern Marsupial Mole,
“I’ll take on that rôle, saying ‘hyper-bowl’.”

“Who will ‘bell the cat’?”
“Ah, well,” murmured the Bare-Rumped Heathtail Bat,
“I’m no democrat when it comes to that—”.

*  Peter Hunt writes, “Animal land rights bid”, in the Weekly Times:

University of Western Sydney academic John Hadley, who is at the forefront of a global push to give animals property rights, believes farmers should be forced to negotiate with the legal guardians of Australia’s native animals before clearing their land.
‘Under an animal guardianship system, landholders who want to modify habitat on their land would have to negotiate with a guardian acting on behalf of a designated group of animals,’ Dr Hadley said in his article on a new academic website The Conversation.

UPDATE (27 May, 2013):  in the House of Representatives today, Dr. Bandt, of the Australian Greens, introduced a bill into the House of Representatives to establish an independent Office of Animal Welfare.

Farm Animals Join the Moot

“Who’ll mock the Greens now?”
“I,” lowed the Hereford-Angus-cross cow,
“I’ll orate somehow, and mock the Greens now.”

“Who’ll say “it’s a sham?”
“I shall,” bleated the pure Aussiedown lamb,
“I should gladly damn the Greens’ latest sham.”

Flim-Flannery

Flammery’s Lament

“They’ll run a front-page feature*

     too full of awful lies; 

they’ll state that I’m a creature

     of avaricious guys.

They’ll run a weekend-story

     to spread deceit and fear,

forgetting all my glory—

     an Aussie of the year!

Then comes a little stinger

     on Monday, on page three:

some dreadful paper’s stringer

     will dare to sneer at me.

Why are such people teasing?

     I cannot understand!

I’m clearly born for pleasing—

     a prophet of the land.

“Desert seers were oft abused†
     by those they came to lead.

Similarly, I’ve been accused

     of clumsiness and greed.

I am not the worst of chaps,

     no author of a plot;

scientific dunce, perhaps,

      a genius I am not.”

*  Tim Blair reports that Tim Flannery “might be exaggerating just a little”.  The delusional and, perhaps, paranoid Prof. Flannery said:  “The campaign [against the IPCC] was very much like the sort of media campaign that I’m used to when people try to discredit me.  And the way that works is usually on a Friday they’ll run a front-page story saying what a ratbag I am.  You know, front page, and that’s all right, interesting, someone’s been a bit, you know, corrupt or a bit rotten.
“And then on the Saturday they’ll run a page three story, usually a much longer story, listing everything you’re supposed to have done, and all the reasons why you’re a ratbag. 
“And then on the Monday they’ll put a little stinger in. A little reminder, just to remind people what a rotten person you are.”
†  John, iv. 44; Mark, vi. 4; Matt., xxxv. 57. 

Call That a Conspiracy? This Is a Conspiracy!

An alternative to CAGW

The problem with the catastrophic anthropogenic global warming (CAGW) hypothesis, to many people disordered by an inconvenient preference for logical reasoning, is that, for CAGW’s proponents, their all-encompassing, misanthracist hypothesis explains everything:  all results prove their hypothesis; all data which contradict their models’ forecasts are conveniently used to confirm the hypothesis.  If the meaningless, mathematical average of global temperature increase, it must be because of anthropogenic carbon dioxide; if the average decrease, it must be because of the dangerous, turbulent effects of anthropogenic carbon dioxide; if the average remain the same, it must be because of the strange, unpredictable nature of anthropogenic carbon dioxide.

The circular reasoning for proponents of the CAGW hypothesis cannot be disproven (they believe) because the hypothesis holds that all changes of climate—for better or worse—are forced by carbon dioxide (and other greenhouse gases) and, paradoxically, that any period of no change is a concomitant part of the modelling.

Two sides, however, can play this game.  The SCI-FI-PAL* theory maintains that the world is not endangered by any increase or decrease of carbon dioxide but by the costly theories of alleged scientists, self-interested purveyors of doom, and their foolish fellow travellers, who falsely prophesy in the vainglorious pursuit of profits and in support of the powerful. 

Any evil of the modern world is the fault of the SCI-FI-PAL collective.  Are educational standards falling in your schools?  It is because educational theories and practices have been perverted by the SCI-FI-PAL thinking in faculties of education.  Are meteorological or economic forecasts too often wrong?  Clearly, SCI-FI-PAL-style reasoning has infected the forecasting staff and their computer programmers.  Have the standards of the supposed journalism of our national broadcasters fallen?  Blame SCI-FI-PAL thinking. Have supposed democracies stupidly appeased wicked dictators or, equally foolishly, tried to subvert their domination without considering the consequences?  The politicians have been afflicted with SCI-FI-PAL wickedness.

Proponents of CAGW calumniate anyone who refuses to profess the new faith as illiterate and unscientific, yokels and deniers.  Again, two can play that game.  If an adherent of the CAGW cult proclaim anything at all, it can be completely refuted by saying, “Sadly, you’re just saying that because of your SCI-FI-PAL beliefs,” and, should a CAGW-cultist call you a denier, remind him or her that every single architect of the Holocaust was a wicked supporter of SCI-FI-PAL. 

The SCI-FI-PAL theory cannot be disproven, for the theory shows that doubters of the theory are contaminated by their sycophancy, and only those who promote the SCI-FI-PAL attempt to disprove it.  QED.

Remember, all conspiracy theories emanate from our universities.  Why?  The universities are controlled by self-interested cabals who are attempting to indoctrinate society into mindlessly licking the arses of those who have (or want to have) power.  Resist!  Resist the proctoleichous SCI-FI-PAL collective!

*  selfish conspirators instigating, for income, perpetual arse-licking.

Revised Scenes from History, Nº 1

Were People in the Great War As Enlightened As Modern Folk

[An officer, in a clean, well-tailored uniform, saunters into a filthy trench, somewhere near Passchendaele, in 1917, shortly before a scheduled attack.]

  

Sergeant:  Officer present! Attention! Sah!

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  At ease, men; standing to attention is bad for the back. Ah, good, those ladders seem well placed and properly supported.  Now are your weapons nice and safe?  Ammunition safely put away?

Sergeant:  Sah, yes, sah!

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  You, Private—

Sergeant:  Hatkins, sah!

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  Ah, Atkins, is your bayonet clean? We don’t want an enemy to catch a nasty infection.

Pvt. Hatkins:  Clean, sir, and sharp, sir!

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  Sharp?  Sharp!

Sergeant:  Well-honed, sah, razor-edged, ὀξύς, acutus—

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  Yes, yes, I know.  Are any other bayonets similarly sharpened, Sergeant?

Sergeant:  Why, all of them are, of course, sah.  We must all be keen, and I always keep a sharp look-out, sah!

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  But we can’t have that—someone may get hurt!   Dull these bayonets immediately!

  

[After a few seconds of stunned immobility, a few of the soldiers begin to strike their bayonets against rocks.]

  

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  Hey, what are you doing? Stop!  That’s dangerous!  Someone could put out an eye!

Pvt. Hatkins:  We have no proper tools with us here, sir.

Occupational Health & Safety Officer:  Sergeant, I leave it to you to ensure that these men dull their bayonets, and safely; but I don’t want to hear that you’ve been shouting at them.  It could harm their hearing, and it lowers their self-esteem.  I, meanwhile, have an appointment to meet Field-Marshall Haig; I must talk to him about this foolhardy practice of firing artillery shells.  Farewell, men.

  

[The officer departs.  The men murmur and mutter.]

  

Sergeant:  All right, shaarp, you lot; you heard the officer, we need to devise a tool to blunt the bayonets.

Pvt. Hatkins:  How, Sarge?

Sergeant:  Men, form a file.

Pres. Obama Sued by Empty Suit

We are shocked to learn, by way of various news services and the neo-neocon blog, some stunning legal news.  By documents lodged in a Washington District Federal Court, yesterday, an empty suit is suing U.S. President Barack Obama for defamation of character and fraudulent appropriation of identity: 

The plaintiff’s attorney, Nigel Barratry, who has entered amicus curiae briefs and a pair of shorts, explained yesterday that he will, conjointly, also lodge a private prosecution, and that the criminal and civil charges include misuse of usufructuary, misprision, plagiarism, peculation, subrogation, and (by alleging further that the defendant was ineligible to be a candidate for president) obtaining a pecuniary advantage by deception, and treason.

Pres. Obama, according to the suit, has given empty suits everywhere a bad name.
The White House has not yet issued an official response.  An inside source, however, said that the briefs had no legs to stand on, and that the President would make an eloquent response as soon as Prof. Bill Ayers could be located to write it.
Meanwhile, Mr. Barratry further revealed that his firm, Amble & Chaser have received scores of communications from numerous other items and apparel—such as windbags, douche-bags, sock-puppets, marionettes and windsocks—, which, feeling similarly deflated and injured, effete and useless,  have expressed a wish to join the empty suit’s suit suitably thereunto.

Gillard the Liar: “No ‘Carbon’ Tax”

A song from Gillard the Liar, “No Carbon Tax” (with words by Julia Gillard and music by Deadman Turner), can be found at mp3.com.au.

UPDATE—This is now available on YouTube:

Deadly Poisonous Creatures: a Brief Tragedy

Encountering Venomous Frogs and Poisonous Octopus*

Chorus:  Behold! Australia, great southern land,
          but bloody danger-filled, you understand.
          Here be an ocean beach, a tourist trap:
          a pleasant place, but ripe for some mishap.

[Two holidaying men are lying on the sand of an Australian beach.  Despite weeks of lazing in the sun, both men are pale.]

Bruce:  My skin itches; a drowsy numbness pains 

          my limbs, as though in thistles I had rolled:

          attacked I was by fierce, venomous frogs.

          The vicious things were crazed and sans remorse!
          Wherefore, I ask, doth this odd, fearsome land
          allow within these foul amphibians?

Kev:  That’s nothing.  I was just nibbling on some

          of this supposedly fine octopus—
          and after countless sennights carefully
          avoiding scary, local fauna, note—

          but ’twas not safe, ’twas poisonous!  Therefore,

          I go, quite peeved, to everlasting rest,

          and shake the taste of indigestible,

          world-wearying flesh.  Mine eyes, look your last.

[Both men expire.] 

Chorus:  Envenomed toads and frogs and cobs and snakes
          and fish and also centipedes oft doom
          such men—and poisonous molluscs withal.
          Beware, who seek antipodean thrill:
          for nearly anything you meet can kill. 
Echo & Reverb:  Can kill, can kill, can kill. 

* from The People’s Therapist:  “A friend of mine recently returned from Australia.  He was amazed to find nearly every living creature that walks, swims or crawls Down Under can turn out to be deadly poisonous.  It was incredible, he said – they had venomous toads and frogs and spiders and fish and snakes and centipedes and jellyfish and even a poisonous octopus.  Just about anything you met could end up killing you.”

Australia also contains numerous creatures (such as sharks, crocodiles, and the occasional infuriated wombat, peeved poteroo or manic bandicoot) which can kill without the aid of toxins.  Despite the multiplicity of lethal beasts, strange to relate, very few Australians are slaughtered by animals.