Downtown amongst the hordes, the saccharine yuletide express sodomises the air as shoppers clamour for that last minute expressive excuse and charade to cloud their next few weeks. After which, they will return to the department stores and boutiques in their hundreds, smeared in their own feces and vomit, dressed up in the downs of chicken strips. Yelling will be a high point and matches instigated on whim. Fresh from their flash of a family endurance, they will attempt in all honour to send back what has been soiled from days spent fleshing out their time under one of many secular religions.
Mindful of the fever and viral infections spreading through the air, many organisations are out on the street beating down the willow, all for the name of charity. The seasoned professionals—seasoned amongst their own excretions and expulsions—holding limp cards and sorry faces watch on as the flavour of the week shifts its tastebuds away from their scourge. Many know not of pain and irony, or even a well trodden homeless person waking up with fewer limbs than the night before.
Surf Life Saving Australia, in conjunction with the NSW Fire Brigade, today held down the middle of Pitt Street Mall in Sydney. Jostling for position, bongo beaters, Free Hugsters and an alcoholic making his empty bottles collect enough change to buy some methylated spirits. Stationed on both ends of the thoroughfare, the Surf Life Savers and the Firemen, jangled and rattled their coin and donation buckets for the kids of the Burns Unit at The Children's Hospital at Westmead.
They collect their monies over the Salvation Army band playing their appropriated tunes. At the northern end of their donation gauntlet a couple of officers from the brigade are chatting and enjoying the time with a few of the straggling shoppers. This all over the searing hot plate of the barbecue offering up sausages and onions cradled in white bread.
Written on Thursday, 23 December 2004