For Our Australian Readers
Posted by:
jon (---.abel.net.uk)
Date: November 11, 2002 03:06PM
<HTML>JURISFICTION: AUSTRALIAN CHAPTER: MEETING 1,274
OK, g’day all, welcome to the meetin’. Come on, fair go, settle down …would somebody stop the Seven Little Australians eatin’ the Magic Puddin’, please? … thanks, Dave. How’s your Dad, by the way? Yeah? Beauty, mate. Now we got a situation here. Nobody’s seen the Man from Snowy River for over a week now, and we reckon he’s gone walkabout. The horse has been complainin’, an’ readers are goin’ to start noticin’ any day now. Now I reckon somebody knows where he’s at, so I want you all to think very hard here. Any one of youse knows anythin’, you speak up, ‘cos unless somebody dobs him in one of youse is goin’ to have to go an’ look for him, an’ you know what happened last time. We can’t afford any more of our blokes to end up like that. Took us weeks to get the pommie accent out of the Jolly Swagman, an’ what possessed him to jump into Northanger Abbey in the first place, God alone knows. So think hard, fellas, and if you know somethin’, say.
OK, next item. Oh, yeah, we’ve been noticin’ some strange editions appearin’ lately. There’ve been sightin’s of new chapters in some copies of A Town Like Alice, in which the action is switched from Alice Springs to Albert Park Beach, or in one case Surfer’s Paradise. Don’t think I don’t know what’s goin’ on. I realise that Alice in 1946 is a tough station, but meddlin’ with the text just so you can play the pokies or catch a few waves is not on. Strewth, Surfer’s Paradise wasn’t even there in 1946! And another thing. Slippin’ the names of fictitious Melbourne Cup winners into books an’ then nippin’ round the bookies for a sly ante-post is right out. And whoever got into the VFL Yearbook and changed the names of all the Grand Final winners to St. Kilda was just bein’ childish. And on the subject of dereliction of duty, bein’ in On The Beach does not mean stayin’ on the beach the whole bloody time, so let’s have fewer transfer requests, OK? And don’t think I haven’t noticed the Ern Malley collection is growin’ again. That’s five extra poems this year. Cut it out.
Right. Bit of bad news, fellas. The picnic at Hanging Rock has had to be cancelled again, yeah, yeah, I know, I was lookin’ forward to it meself. Somethin’ about not bein’ able to arrange return transport ….
Now, I’ve had a few complaints from our colleagues over the Tasman. Any of youse lot doin’ a relief in a Keri Hulme or a Janet Frame try and remember the word is ‘yis’. We’ve had a few embarrassments lately, and there was even an outbreak of Brisbane accent in a Katharine Mansfield. You may think it doesn’t matter, but these days even Europeans are startin’ to notice. Keep them vowels long and flat, mates.
Finally, I’m lookin’ for volunteers. We need more bodies for The Fatal Shore, and also for Kangaroo. OK, OK, stop whingin’. Strewth. I realise those chains are a bit of a bastard in The Fatal Shore, but anybody does a turn there I’ll see them straight, OK? Three weeks in a Keneally for one in the Hughes, is that a deal? And as for the Lawrence, I realise he’s a pommie pain in the arse but we’re duty bound to make a show; nobody in Nottingham chapter can do an Aussie accent worth spit.
OK, that’s about it, big wraps to Mrs. Woolcot for the spread, best meat pie floaters I’ve had this century. Good on yer, Mrs. W. OK, off you go, and hey, remember; no worries out there.</HTML>