There are no free passes today. You’re still an asshole.

Australia Day, Invasion Day. Apparently there’s a move to blog for it, and here I am squeaking in at 11:30pm after spending the day doing housework and hanging out with friends around the BBQ, listening to Triple J count down the year’s Hottest 100. (I think I’m getting too old for Triple J’s main demographic: I thought this years’ top 10 pretty much sucked.)

That’s Australia Day to me: Hottest 100 Day, and that’s my privilege talking – I can choose to consider or not that today is a day of mourning for Indigenous Australians, that January 26 marks the start of European persecution. So it seems a no-brainer to me that if we want to celebrate what we say we want to celebrate, ie, being proud of being a nation, then move the damn holiday. Plunk it on the anniversary of Federation, and stop rubbing all our faces in apparently being proud of the actions of the first colonisers. Inclusiveness: y’r doin it rong.

I went for a walk this evening, and my blood is still boiling from the asshole behaviour I witnessed. A flag-bedecked – and by flag-bedecked, I mean they’d managed to stick at least six made-in-China flags on the outside of the car –  Ford full of young, white, male assholes sped down the local shopping strip street, occupants screaming out the windows at non-white passers by:  “Go home, you fucking faggots, if you don’t love this country!” Oh, yeah, you classy fucking dropkicks.

I was too far away to yell back that they should go the fuck home themselves and keep their toxic, racist, homophobic bullshit to themselves. I hate that that behaviour went unchallenged in the eyes and ears of the non-white Australians who experienced it. Ugh.

Australia Day, huh. What a great holiday. “Let’s be racist fucksticks: we’re allowed today!” is just what we need here in a country too damn prone to jingoism.

Australia Day makes me ashamed far more often then it makes me proud. And I say that as one of that multitude who sport Southern Cross tattoos.

For a bit of an antidote, Hoyden About Town has a cheering anecdote re: assholes losing the fight.


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