Best Australian Comedy Writing

by Luke Ryan

  And intelligence isn’t everything. Of course, we value it: it’s what sets us apart. But it is just one of the many brilliant strategies for survival that evolution has developed. Cooperation is just as important. Empathy; care for your fellow creatures. Who knows what kinds of minds are yet to come? New species for this new world, the descendants of today’s algae, cockroaches, pine beetles, mosquitoes and snakes. Remember, there was a time when the dinosaurs would have scoffed at our ancestors: they’d have looked down on our little ratty forebears the way we dismiss the lives of houseflies and chooks. But look around you – look at the faces of your friends and your family, those beautiful smiles, those treasured hands and eyes – and see how far those little rats have come. If we can be sure of one thing it is that evolution will bring fresh miracles, a joyride of new life.

  It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I think it’s time to go. Has everyone had something to drink? Good.

  Push on towards the water, friends. Battery Point might make it through – that old sandstone has seen a lot in its time. You might yet live to see tomorrow. But even if you don’t, this isn’t the end of us. Remember Kevin Gilbert’s immortal words, ‘Creation flows to me, through me, within me … the universe is part of me, as I am part of it.’ We are not just our species – we are a tiny segment of the whole brilliant experiment of life on Earth, our DNA shared almost entirely with every other living creature. We are tangled up with everything that has been and that ever will be. As long as something lives, we live too.

  Go well. Head for Salamanca Place. I’ll stay here in case there are stragglers. Hurtling to death, friends, I am alive.

  Originally appeared in Seizure 2015

  JAMES COLLEY

  The Backburner’s Six Most Burnable News Stories of 2015

  ❛Gillard was unavailable for comment at the time of printing, as any attempt to answer our questions was greeted with uncontrollable laughter and the phrase ‘it’s on’.❜

  The Backburner is Australia’s premier satirical news source. Written by James Colley and a team of thousands (read: five), The Backburner covers all the stories the other papers won’t touch. Mainly because they don’t exist.

  Reclaim Australia accidentally reclaims 1930s Germany

  An attempted bigot convention has gone awry over the weekend as attempts to ‘Reclaim Australia’ have led to hate groups accidentally reclaiming the fascist rhetoric of the rise of the Third Reich.

  The group met with the express purpose of reclaiming an Australia that they believe had once existed because they heard about it in a Slim Dusty song. Unfortunately for organisers, the violent intimidation and overt racism of the event meant that all that was reclaimed was the spirit of fear and hostility of one of the bleakest periods of human history.

  ‘I suppose this was a pretty massive oversight,’ said one organiser. ‘I guess if we wanted to reclaim Australia then we would have to show up and engage heavily with Indigenous culture, being as they are about as Australian as it gets.

  ‘I mean, there were dudes here with swastika tattoos. Swastikas! I’ve got tattoos I regret, but surely as that’s being inked in you must think, Well, this is permanent and maybe one day I’d like to have a conversation with a reasonable human … I’m making a terrible mistake.

  ‘Maybe we just got the name wrong. Maybe ‘Reclaim Australia’ was too vague. What we meant to say was that anyone who is different to us is bad. Did that message convey?’

  However, organisers were reluctant to admit the event was a complete failure, saying that there were some positives to come from the event.

  ‘We did manage to stave off sharia law for another day. Sure, no one was trying to institute sharia law and this whole thing was just dog-whistling racism, but still, we stopped sharia law. We also stopped the Hindu religion becoming mandatory, an invasion of mammoths and a whole range of other things that had no chance of happening.

  ‘We’re basically heroes, if you were to change the definition of “hero” to the opposite of what it is now.’

  Anti-racism advocates also admitted there were some positives to be taken from the event, saying that now that we know how to gather all the bigots in one place, all that we need is the technology to summon a comet to a specific location.

  Man dehydrates after discovering water is halal certified

  A Brisbane man has died of dehydration today after refusing to consume water following the revelation that technically water is halal certified.

  42-year-old Brisbane local Keith Sheen, a noted opponent of what he believes ‘halal’ to mean, brazenly refused to consume water or any drink containing water to protest halal certification. He also vocally expressed his outrage that two-thirds of the planet he inhabited were composed of what he called ‘the Muslim liquid’.

  His body succumbed to dehydration earlier this morning.

  Mr Sheen had previously complained about products in his local supermarket containing dietary information such as halal certification.

  ‘Why should I have to look at that when it doesn’t apply to me?’ Mr Sheen once wrote to his local newspaper. ‘It’s the same with these peanut allergy warnings. I don’t personally have a peanut allergy so we should get rid of them for everyone. It’s only fair.

  ‘You know what harm it does me to look at halal certification? None at all. But what if the answer was “some”? That would be unacceptable.’

  Sheen insisted that his objection to halal certification was not on the basis of racism or anti-religious bigotry, claiming he was not personally a racist but just ‘said racist things and acted in a racist way all the time’.

  A statement released by his family praised Sheen’s commitment to his principles. ‘Our father was a man of principle, and his death is another sign that sharia law has gone too far, or perhaps not far enough. We are not clear on what sharia law is or how far it should go.’

  A memorial service will be held for Keith Sheen this Wednesday. The wake has been delayed due to complications in finding non-halal certified food to serve.

  Abbott: Australia won’t blindly follow US to equal marriage; it’s not like a war

  The Australian Government has declared it is not compelled by the Supreme Court ruling on equal marriage and will not blindly follow the United States into social reforms as though they were some kind of war in the Middle East.

  While momentum is growing in Australia for equal marriage reforms, the prime minister has warned that we must stop and consider the implications of applying such measures to Australia and not treat such a fundamental decision with the kind of flippancy you would show entering an unending ground war in an already destabilised region.

  ‘This decision could not be more important,’ said Prime Minister Abbott. ‘We cannot rush into such a thing. We are not merely an extra state of America. We would only blindly follow them if it were for a poorly thought-out military campaign.

  ‘We want to do something because we want to do it. This isn’t the case here. Surely, the overwhelming majority of Australians do want us to do this, but that’s probably because they saw America do it.

  ‘We’re our own people. We don’t just do everything that the United States, Ireland, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, Iceland, Canada, Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, France and all the others have done.

  ‘If all those nations jumped off a bridge, and our population really wanted to also jump off a bridge, would we do it? The last thing you should do in a democracy is listen to the will of the people. This isn’t a popularity contest – that’s just how we get in a position to say this isn’t a popularity contest.’

  The Prime Minister has admitted that the fight against equal marriage seems to be a lost cause.

  ‘Sure, we might be on the wrong side of history, but sometimes it’s important to stand for what you believe in. How am I supposed to look my grandchildren in the eye and tell them that I let two people who loved each other get married under my watch?’

  Julia Gillard rushed to hospi
tal after overdosing on schadenfreude

  Former Prime Minister Julia Gillard is under observation at Royal Prince Philip Hospital after overdosing on schadenfreude, the pleasure derived from witnessing someone else’s misfortune.

  Gillard was found in her residence clutching an oversized bag of popcorn and watching the ABC’s 7.30. An ambulance was called to the Gillard residence and she was taken to hospital, where she remains in a stable, non-life-threatening condition. Hospital staff were quick to caution that it was not all good news, however.

  ‘Unfortunately we were unable to wipe the smile off her face,’ said a hospital spokesperson. ‘We tried everything we could, but it won’t budge. This is unusual for a simple case of excessive schadenfreude.

  ‘Whoever is triggering this episode must really, really deserve it.’

  Gillard was unavailable for comment at the time of printing, as any attempt to answer our questions was greeted with uncontrollable laughter and the phrase ‘it’s on’.

  A spokesperson for Gillard thanked the medical staff at the Royal Prince Philip Hospital for their dedicated work and insisted that there is no need for concern.

  ‘We appreciate the outpouring of tributes we’ve received, but there is no need to worry. The only thing around here that’s terminal is the Abbott Government.’

  Bill Shorten caught in Chinese finger trap

  Opposition Leader Bill Shorten has caused a stir by appearing in question time with his hands still stuck in a Chinese finger trap.

  ‘Obviously, this situation isn’t ideal,’ said Mr Shorten, as he addressed Parliament. ‘But what we need to be focusing on is Mr Abbott’s failure to produce a fair budget, not whether or not my fingers are currently trapped in a traditional Chinese puzzle.

  ‘The fact is, the honest working families of this country care about whether education will be affordable for their children, not whether the opposition leader has the use of his index fingers.’

  Prime Minister Tony Abbott immediately pounced on the blunder as an opportunity to attack Labor, claiming this proved Shorten was unfit for government.

  ‘How can we trust a leader to have his finger on the button, if those fingers are constantly being imprisoned within simple puzzles?’

  Abbott has faced accusations of hypocrisy, as it was revealed this statement was made while both his hands were independently stuck in two different pickle jars.

  ‘This is an entirely different situation,’ claimed Abbott. ‘For starters, this is intentional. I love having my hands in pickle jars. It preserves their youthful vigour. Also, it makes them smell of pickles, which is a constant delight. And it stops me from strangling Malcolm every time he opens his goddamned craw.’

  This was the latest in a series of embarrassing incidents for Shorten, who has previously been unable to rise to ask questions due to being entirely covered in honey. However, the Opposition Leader remains adamant that he is fit to lead.

  ‘We shouldn’t be focusing on how many times I’ve locked myself in the office, or that one time I ran out of the chamber because Joe Hockey threw a tennis ball. We need to join together to stop the Abbott Government.

  ‘If we don’t, Australia will be locked into a dismal future, like two fingers locked in a hellish tube that seemed so simple when I was given it. Please … please help me.’

  Young white male decides Australia Day isn’t problematic

  After a long hour of soul-searching, young Australian Timmy McGrath of Willoughby has decided that Australia Day isn’t problematic, and at the time of reporting is ‘smashing tinnies’ with a clear heart.

  For a few minutes Timmy respectfully and solemnly dwelt on the complicated history of today’s date to the First Australians. He thought about how he would feel if his nation was taken from him and even considered the endemic racism still experienced, particularly on days like today, before ultimately deciding that he would really prefer to enjoy today free of any guilt, complication or critical thought.

  ‘I think everybody just needs to calm down,’ he said. ‘I mean, how long are you going to stay mad about all those murders that happened to your people? Or the theft of your land by colonisers?

  ‘Sure, I’m still mad about the Star Wars prequels, but that’s different. That’s really important. And fortunately for me, there isn’t a day where everyone gets a day off work to really properly celebrate the release of The Phantom Menace.’

  Timmy indicated that it wasn’t that he wasn’t sympathetic, but rather that he didn’t get many public holidays and wanted to make the most of them.

  ‘It’s just that I love this country and want to be able to celebrate it for a day without thinking about how that country was violently constructed on top of hundreds of nations that were already existing.

  ‘Besides, that was ages ago. I never took anyone’s land from them,’ he said, still standing on the stolen land. ‘All I’ve really done is thoughtlessly benefit from a privileged life.

  ‘I mean, sure, if you thought about how the continued history of racism towards Indigenous people results in a huge disparity in literacy and mortality rates, you would be horrified at the idea of a nation patting itself on the back on today of all days. Fortunately, what I do is not think about that. Have a good time. Listen to the Hottest 100. Chill out.’

  While he hasn’t contacted any Indigenous leaders with his thoughts on everyone ‘just kicking back and enjoying the day’, Timmy is sure that they’d get behind the idea in a moment.

  ‘You’ve got to enjoy it while it lasts. I mean, whether it takes five, ten or twenty years, there is no way Australia Day can remain on this date. We may not have many left. Let’s party while we can.’

  LIAM PIEPER

  Catching the Spirit

  ❛She tells me I’m holding a karmic debt from a past life in which I had great power and used it selfishly; I was a great intellectual or a priest, and, also, ‘probably a paedophile’.❜

  I’m in Nimbin, chasing a story, and I don’t like the way the turkey is looking at me.

  The second I arrived at the hostel, set on an abandoned farm at the edge of the rainforest, the turkey started stalking me with the slow malevolence of a traffic cop. All day, every time I look at it, it folds out its plumage like a switchblade and runs a feint at me.

  The turkey is trying to establish dominance. The turkey does not know how badly it has underestimated me. I’m here in Nimbin covering a story for an important and influential magazine that, truly, I have no business writing for. The commission for the Very Important Magazine will pay more than I usually make in a year and establish me as a proper, grown-up writer. Being here on Magazine business means that I am fit to burst with hubris; this puffed-up, pugilistic turkey could be my spirit animal.

  Nimbin is a countercultural enclave in the heart of the northern shires of New South Wales. On the drive in, I passed tiny farms nestled in patches of rainforest, where naked men taking the sun in deckchairs would surprise me, popping up sudden and unlovely as mushrooms after the rain, providing fleeting, peripheral glances of wrinkled gnarly flesh as I sped by. Less than an hour’s drive from Byron Bay, where waves of gentrifying sea-changers are slowly turning the coastline into northern California, things are different out here. As you head further inland, it becomes less The Hills, more The Hills Have Eyes. My destination is a backpackers’ hostel just outside of Nimbin, the lawless epicentre of the Australian hippie movement.

  I wait all of twenty seconds after check-in before announcing to the other residents of my hostel that ‘oh, I’m not on holiday, no, I’m a writer,’ as though the twilight state of boredom and financial stress that distinguishes my career is at all different from being on a long, interminable vacation. I regret my announcement almost instantly, when a wave of hippies approach and ask me to look at their poetry.

  Freelance writers don’t have many professional certainties, but when someone tells me, ‘Oh, I’m a writer too’, I feel the same sinking feeling that doctors at dinner parties
must feel when they hear, ‘Is this lump something to worry about?’

  One of the poets, Sandy, is relentless – turkey-like – in her insistence that I read her dream journal, and that I also meet and write an article on her psychic guru.

  Sandy is one of a handful of permanent residents of the hostel, people who came to visit Nimbin and never got around to leaving. Some are young, surly, jailbird types from country towns, but most are older women with flowing silver hair and the friendly but confused demeanour of those whose inner landscapes have been eroded by acid. They, without exception, have come to Nimbin because it is ‘a place of healing’. The healing process, as far as I can tell, involves smoking cones in front of the Discovery Channel. ‘I came here because I’m a free spirit,’ Sandy tells me, thumb-screwing a mix into her cone and turning up the volume on a repeat of River Monsters.

  Sandy is everywhere I go, waiting at the shower block in the morning, sitting out the front of cafes in town where I go to interview sources, next to the wood heater where I type up my notes at night. She catches me at dawn on my last morning in Nimbin, when I’m up to watch the sunrise.

  I’m standing on the back lawn of the farmhouse waiting for the light. As the gloom retreats, a murky shape in the dark resolves into a Shetland pony that wanders over to me and sniffs my hand. I reach out to stroke its mane, golden-brown in the rising light. The pony whinnies and startles me out of a reverie, and I look up to see Sandy emerging from her room. I duck down behind the pony, burying my face in its mane and hoping that Sandy has missed me. The mane is soft against my cheek, and my heart is full of gratitude for this noble beast of burden that is taking time out from its morning to hide me from the predatory hippie. It is for naught. After a moment’s silent commune with the pony, Sandy sees me and rushes over to tell me the news.