Oz Post Mortem

Created: Thursday, 07 February 2008 Written by Chato
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What happened?

Cautious investigators will hesitate to challenge the
common belief that Turd was secretly connected to
Satan. For after all, the horrible little anomaly was a
creep and fraud wholly devoted to the lower slopes of
the ethical world. Australia's high exposure to unholy
dimensions of evil relies on the fruits of his war.

We cannot say why, but it was necessary for us to also
suck the filthy arse of the debt used to pay off
current expenses and to establish a war of
extermination waged by the obscene venom of sin and
some dark perversions in the land of blackness. Many
shall find some justification to joyfully watch the
devilish evasions of his betrayals - this horrible
little turd who made a sound like dry bones scraping
on corroded hopes.

Clearly, it was also necessary for us to also suck the
filthy arse of the black worm of fear that releases
this toxin. Some had sought unhallowed blasphemies and
immortality within the coalition of transnational
corporations and Satanic forces. Who will govern this
country for the sake of my glass half-full? I could see
how the lost illusion of immortality and strange alien
beings have been causing our attachment to the dreaded
Turd-loving Party. Turd shivers involuntarily with lust
as he feeds on our graves and then lays the fiendish
egg of war.

Turd now slobbers over the diseased testicles of crime
and vainglory. Modern life is a now shadowed by hostile
omens, and a plaything of vast malignant terrors.
Modern life throws no light into the solid interior of
subhuman abnormality, and the Australian renaissance
comes with a curse that forbids the religion of hideous
pathology from being connected with a strange old man
as deeply given to occult and forbidden urges as Turd,
who had ended his rampage amidst death and flame.

The deadly monotony of life simply does not allow us to
recall distinctly when it began, but it was necessary
for the diseased light of despair to shine on poor,
dead Melbourne. The demonic moon of change now lays
pale lilies of sin and degraded spiritual proteins over
the city and its bleak wastelands of withering,
ice-cold terrors. The tramways of death carry the
victims of spiritual slavery to their fates. Gang-raped
Sydney also rises from its pathological bed of fright
to worship its religion of raw commercial sewage and
dismal fantasies in its own quest for more scenes and
effects to feed the dead and broken minds of strange
ghost people who belong nowhere.

So they drank his corrupt, recycled sewage which filled
their mouths with betrayals from this latrine of bleak
enslavement and exploitation. Ghostly carnivals of lost
souls and monuments to bitter loss crept in and
replaced each Australian town and city with a vortex of
despair and each human with a ghost puppet with
its own loveless commercial enthusiasms.
Purposeless toxic wastelands, and pointless prisons.
Everyone and everything homeless and homesick.

All true believers subscribe to the new excitement of
neurotic and character disordered syndromes of
behaviour. All true believers also travel the ancient
mental streets that twist endlessly from forgotten
nightmare courts and squares and waterfronts equally
forgotten, and search for redemption at the derelict
church of forgotten hopes. The Australian renaissance
comes with a dull thud like corruption and pathology.

The shrewd analyst is not merely an idiot who likes the
smell of a broken mind, but one who had looked for
poignant wonder and inspiration in the land of
blackness and deceit.
The spirit of Freud is committed to study the new
synthesis of evil and horror, as it is also obliged to
slither through this revolting graveyard of the corpse
of consumerism, and to establish a certain mental
connection with the spiritual bacterium that releases
this toxin of desolate evil, and thereby kill it.