If we can all take a moment to get our heads around the kind of deeply fucked personal entitlement required to actually reach out and repeatedly yank a stranger's hair, perhaps we're getting closer to understanding how soulless monetarists perceive the world per se: as essentially theirs, and populated by the kind of docile stock unit who should by now be conditioned to dumbly accept their betters' assaultive proclivities. Tragically, I believe John Key when he professes surprise at the response to his actions; if there's anything more self-evident than his complete disregard for anyone outside his minute cohort, that thing has yet to slide its throbbing pink arsehole over the windscreen of my personal perception. I should probably be grateful.
Sitting in the wreckage of a once comprehensively equitable country on its slide toward ghetto hell while its citizens vote it one of the happiest places on earth is just... I don't even know what that is any more. I feel as though apathy on a cellular level, as a sort of nitrous-flavoured gut-rotting mental lollipop, has finally been attained and everyone's just closing their eyes and sucking hard now while they shuffle off to the mall to spectate the sweatshopped crap they can't afford. I noticed that the other day when I was forced to visit a fucking Kmart; there were lots of people just sort of waddling and mouth breathing and gawping, but very few buying anything apart from empty carbs. We are a foodhall feedlot now burdened with the kind of political representation we clearly deserve. Felicitations.
I don't know what I'm posting this week so just shut the hell up about that :)