The Book of Bloke

by Ben Pobjie

  Perhaps most notable, though, is the manner in which the Wanksta will – indeed, like a mynah – assume the vocalisations of different species to convince others that he is not, in fact, a Wanksta. By mimicking these foreign mating calls and dialects, the Wanksta apparently hopes to persuade the world at large that his skin is not, in fact, white. There are no recorded instances of this working. For reasons unknown, Wankstas will also mimic the hand movements of other cultures – a recent study put forward the tentative theory that Wankstas derive some sort of sexual enjoyment out of people making fun of them.

  Another defining characteristic of the Wanksta is his predilection for hip-hop music. Due to this, like other Fauxkes, he is often mistaken for a Tunester, but a canny Bloke-lover can tell them apart by noting that the Wanksta will never listen to this music unless he knows someone is watching him, and only pretends to know the words.

  Occasionally a Wanksta will come into contact with a genuine black man, at which point he will go into ‘survival mode’, pretending that he has never been a Wanksta, and trying to make himself as physically small as possible before quietly leaving the room.

  Wankstas live mainly in outer suburban and regional areas so as to limit the possibility of meeting a black man.

  The Reticulated Drainpipe, or Lesser Fringed Blither, is an urban Fauxke mostly found in narrow laneways and small, intimate clubs that you haven’t heard of. Drainpipes are one of the newer Bloke breeds, having only split from the main body of the Fauxke family in the last twenty years or so, but in that time they have multiplied to an astonishing extent, so that in some cities there are now more than sixteen per square metre. The rapid population growth can be attributed to the Drainpipe’s method of reproduction, which involves airborne spores and irony. Indeed, in certain areas Drainpipes have been declared a pest, and the council has placed bounties on them of up to $100 for every fringe handed in.

  Reticulated Drainpipes are easily recognised by their spindly limbs, tight black jeans, and floppy crests, as well as their distinctive call, which, while difficult to describe in print, has been characterised by Drainpipe researchers as ‘the sound of someone asking for a punch in the face’. Drainpipe research is a gruelling and thankless field with an astronomically high suicide rate.

  Colloquially, Reticulate Drainpipes are sometimes known as ‘hipsters’: this is believed to be a combination of the Greek ‘Hipp’, meaning ‘man’, and the Latin ‘Steres’, meaning ‘who listens to Cat Power’. Recent studies, however, have shown the term to be a misnomer, as Drainpipes do not, in fact, listen to Cat Power; they just put her CDs on shelves so visitors can see them.

  Drainpipes are curious Blokes and appear to have no fear of non-Drainpipes – they can often be seen approaching ordinary people, standing next to them and pointedly putting on their headphones so the other person knows they’re being ignored. It was thought that these interactions sprang from a genuine desire to socialise with others, but it has since been discovered that they are actually Drainpipe feeding frenzies. The Reticulated Drainpipe’s main food is superiority, and a five-minute conversation with a non-Drainpipe can supply enough energy to last up to five days. In the absence of anyone to feel superior to, a Drainpipe can subsist on scraps of vegan food and John Waters movies on VHS. The Drainpipe diet, in truth, is low in nutrients, which is why Drainpipes tend to be extremely thin and tire easily – Drainpipes are often forced to sit down or have a nap after no more than half an hour of downloading the Nick Drake songs their friend told them about yesterday, so that next time they won’t have to pretend to know who he is. In the case of Tom Waits, it can sometimes take only five minutes.

  Although they have not been with us for long, the Reticulated Drainpipe has developed a complex religious system, revolving mainly around the ‘father god’, Irony. Irony dictates all Drainpipe behaviour, and the rules about what a Drainpipe may or may not do, say, think, watch, listen to, eat, or have sex with, are exceedingly strict and confusing. However, a key tenet of the faith is that a Drainpipe may circumvent any of these rules by invoking the name of the great god Irony. For example, a Drainpipe might declare, ‘For Irony’s sake, I will attend this Phil Collins concert’, or ‘In the name of Irony do I enter this Hog’s Breath Café.’ Ideally, these activities should be undertaken in the company of fellow Drainpipes, as legend has it that Irony frowns upon those who would make offerings to him without getting in a group and giggling to each other. Irony is a harsh god, but also at times a kind one – he bestows many blessings upon those whose haircuts, or in some cases beards, please him and who shop at stores that don’t take Eftpos. These blessings are often in the form of vintage hats or iTunes vouchers. Other elements of the Drainpipe religion include the commandment that ‘thou shalt only be into things before they are popular’. This can result in quite a balancing act, especially when Drainpipes gather in large groups to be ironic and are forced to keep close count on how many people are into something, lest they accidentally keep being into it when too many other people are too. It’s pretty exhausting being a Drainpipe.

  Drainpipes are mainly sedentary creatures, but when they are forced to travel to find new feeding grounds or for a Centrelink appointment, they will either use public transport or a strange Drainpipe device known as a ‘fixie’. Currently, nobody knows exactly what a fixie is, but they are evidently powerful and revolutionary modes of transportation. Non-Drainpipes are warned not to allow themselves to be drawn into a conversation about fixies, lest they discover that it will never, ever end. As long as a Drainpipe doesn’t need to move, however, he won’t, preferring to spend his time drinking odd liquids and leaning against things, usually while checking his hair in a window.

  Drainpipes do of course enjoy a wide variety of other activities, but they’re fairly obscure – you probably haven’t heard of them.

  One thing you may have heard of, though, is the Monoteen, a youthful Fauxke closely related to the Reticulated Drainpipe and with the potential to become one later in life, though many Monoteens also become Tunesters, and quite a few become psychopaths.

  The Monoteen is a sullen, ill-tempered Fauxke, and it is recommended that members of the public do not attempt to approach one, if only to avoid being bored. At the time of writing, there are no recorded instances of Monoteens attacking people, but there are quite a few of Monoteens grunting at people and walking away in a rude fashion. Monoteens can be identified by their protruding lower lip, hair-covered eyes, and strong smell of angst. They will also frequently be wearing a My Chemical Romance T-shirt, or, in the case of the common subspecies Retromonoteen, Nirvana.

  Central to the Monoteen’s life cycle is his mating ritual, which is unique in nature and consists of the individual Monoteen sitting by himself looking sad and intense and occasionally sighing loudly, waiting for young women to hurl themselves at him. It is not a particularly efficient mating ritual, and Monoteens generally only have sex by accident.

  Monoteens do not start off this way, of course. In the larval stage, the Monoteen will attempt to get a girlfriend in myriad normal ways: by making jokes, buying drinks, punching people, etc. However, when it becomes obvious that the Monoteen has exhausted all reasonable avenues, he enters the mature stage of Monoteenism, in which he will pretend to brood and refuse to talk to his parents until he either gets laid or joins Greenpeace.

  It is thought that the Monoteen originated several hundred years ago, when a community of Blokes migrated to new feeding grounds where girls were really hard to impress. Another theory has it that the Monoteen’s origins date back to around 1920, when parents first started to not understand.

  Monoteens are not social Blokes, and will usually lead a solitary life, or at best associate with small groups of three or four other Monoteens, who will speak to each other as little as possible, and to anyone else even less. Monoteen culture dictates an absolute minimum of verbal communication, as Monoteens believe that avoiding speech allows the mind to be more clear for fruitful med
itation; also, if you don’t talk much, chicks think you’re deep.

  Monoteens occasionally write poetry. If you ever see this happening, call the police.

  A very different kind of Fauxke is the Rock-Edge, an impressive Bloke easily recognisable by his bulging muscles and strange bow-legged gait. Rock-Edges can be found in many different regions and climates, making their nests in gyms, juice bars, fitness equipment stores, and in front of mirrors. The Rock-Edge arose in Australia sometime in the 70s as part of the so-called ‘Global Wanker Diaspora’.

  The Rock-Edge considers his body a temple, which can mislead many observers who initially don’t realise just how literally that should be taken. Rock-Edges love their bodies in a very real and intimate sense, and many Rock-Edges have joined lobby groups to push for federal laws allowing a Bloke to marry himself. The reason for this love, of course, lies in the work that has gone into creating and maintaining that body – Rock-Edges live lives of hard work, painful training and enormous self-sacrifice to reach the point where they have achieved an authentic condom-full-of-walnuts look, at which point they can be formally accepted into Rock-Edge society.

  Little is known about the Rock-Edge’s personal habits, because no researcher has yet been able to persuade one to engage in conversation about anything except working out. Currently, experiments are being performed to see if more information can be gleaned by the use of metaphor – for example, using ‘upping your cardio’ to mean dancing and ‘free weights’ to refer to women – but results so far are inconclusive. All we can really be certain of is that the Rock-Edge masturbates at a phenomenal rate, often in public on a cross-trainer.

  The appearance of the Rock-Edge is down to his close symbiotic relationship with mirrors. It is in mirrors that the Rock-Edge assesses the level of bulge in his body, checks the amount of product in his hair, and practises his walk to make sure it possesses an appropriate degree of weird cartoonish flamboyance coupled with insufferable arrogance. The Rock-Edge depends on everyone knowing he is a Rock-Edge, given that it is his status as such that makes him better than everyone else.

  Rock-Edges do not abuse their bodies with mind-altering drugs, cigarettes, or junk food, and are consequently pretty awful company. It is best to avoid them, although if you find yourself in an environment where a close encounter with a Rock-Edge may occur, there’s a good chance you are well on the way to becoming one yourself.

  The Multiculturalist is a much more amiable kind of Fauxke, always up for a friendly chat and a discussion of how much he learned on his last trip to India. The Multiculturalist is quite a unique breed in that, unlike most Blokes, he is defined essentially by his inability to define himself. The Multiculturalist life cycle is basically a long and, at times, frustrating attempt to figure out which culture is the best. Multiculturalists rarely resolve this question: the closest they come is the rock-solid conviction that it’s not their own.

  In a way, the Multiculturalist suffers from a sort of cultural dysmorphia – he finds himself completely unable to accept the culture into which he is born, but at the same time is cursed by his failure to decide which culture he would prefer. This failure is caused by the Multiculturalist’s peculiar sensitivity to custom and ritual: Multiculturalists possess the ability to detect – possibly through super-sensitive hairs in the nose, or a rare brain anomaly – real value in any cultural practice, even in the tiniest concentrations. For example, it is estimated that a Multiculturalist can identify the benefits of a small hut made from yak manure at up to five hundred times the intensity of an average Bloke. This is an impressive talent, but one which is not always entirely beneficial for the Multiculturalist himself, in that it can cause him to engage in activities which a normal Bloke would shy away from – for example, living in a small hut made from yak manure.

  Multiculturalists are varied in their size, shape and colouration, but can usually be identified by the canny observer by means of markers like knitted ponchos, fertility symbol jewellery, and Asian-language tattoos. They are quite placid and safe to approach, even eating from people’s hands, but it is best to do so only if you’re in the mood to learn something.

  The Multiculturalist values cultural practices mainly on the basis of how different they are to his own. A Multiculturalist will typically prefer Asian and African cultures to European, although he will on occasion celebrate peasant and gypsy cultures, as long as they don’t remind him too much of Christmas at his parents’ place. But his greatest enthusiasm will be reserved for Diwali, Chinese New Year, official visits by the Dalai Lama, and anything where people dress in animal skins and act out folk stories. Multiculturalists will frequently quote Chinese proverbs and Native American sayings, and when in heat will even stretch to Sufi mysticism (note: try to avoid Multiculturalists in heat. It will get messy).

  Multiculturology, or the study of Multiculturalists, is a rich and rewarding field, and many researchers will, with a smile on their lips, tell of their experiences with these gentle, confused creatures, and the beautiful sound of a Multiculturalist flock at sunset, with their gentle cries of ‘Well, the Hmong people have a saying …’ and ‘There’s a verse by Khalil Gibran which illustrates this perfectly’ echoing over the landscape.

  Multiculturalists mainly inhabit urban areas, as in rural regions people think they’re stupid, and in the suburbs they meet a lot of immigrants, which causes them disappointment. They will, however, travel to remote areas for ethnic music festivals. When in their natural habitat, they enjoy eating authentic cuisine and watching films with subtitles, as well as taking hallucinogenic drugs because they’re pretty sure they heard that’s what the Navajo do. The Multiculturalist is, after all, an adventurous Bloke whose philosophy is that he will try anything once, as long as it is spiritual and comes from somewhere else. A good part of their time is also taken up expressing solidarity with Aborigines. Some really dedicated Multiculturalists even spend a bit of time actually helping Aborigines, but this is rare – solidarity is usually enough.

  As referred to above, there is nothing to fear if you meet a Multiculturalist in the street – they are gentle and friendly. However, you may find it difficult to extricate yourself from the conversation. If you’re in a hurry, you can escape a Multiculturalist by asking them whether Western society would be better if our economy was based on cows, like the Watusi. You can then quietly slip down a side street while they’re busy thinking.

  As you can see, Fauxkes are a diverse and fascinating group of Blokes, worthy of study, and, to a certain extent, respect. There are those who treat Fauxkes with contempt, but they actually fulfil a crucial role in Bloke society, both as a measuring stick for other Blokes to gauge their own Blokehood, and as the main means of support for the untalented musician industry. Contrary to the name, Fauxkes are, in fact, true Blokes, and, if you meet one, it’s best to smile and extend your hand in friendship. He won’t take it – in fact, he won’t want to talk to you at all because you got your clothes from Target – but it’s a nice gesture nonetheless. Above all, every Bloke should remember: there is a little bit of Fauxke in all of us.

  BLOKEFACTS!

  Did you know … the first Bloke to fly solo around the world was Murray ‘Muzza’ Cuthbertson, in 1934. The first Bloke to do it in a plane was Macca Jensen, three years later.

  The Tunester

  One of the most widespread varieties of Bloke, the Tunester can be found almost anywhere in Australia, having an ability to thrive despite variations in habitat, climatic conditions, and local noise pollution ordinances. This versatility and resilience has led some to suggest the Tunester should be technically classified as a virus, but this is taxonomically unorthodox, and ignores the rich contribution Tunesters have made to Blokedom and society in general.

  The Tunester is defined more by behaviour than appearance; strains of Tunester vary greatly in plumage and markings, but all Tunesters can be identified by the extent to which their life revolves around music. This does make identification a sometim
es tricky business, as many other Bloke species enjoy music, and it is generally necessary to spend a significant amount of time studying the habits and activities of a suspected Tunester before absolute confirmation is possible. The process is complicated further by the fact that a Fauxke will often pretend to be a Tunester, and a skilled Fauxke can be quite convincing. In the end, though, a canny observer should be able to spot a Tunester by his obsessive devotion to a musical life, which may include the actual following of bands on tour, the accumulation of massive collections of recorded music, an almost complete inability to engage in conversation on any other topic, and a pathological need to tell you that vinyl sounds better. If you ever hear a Bloke say that he wishes more mainstream pop was in 7/8 time, you probably have a Tunester. Watch carefully.

  Another good way of identifying a Tunester derives from the fact that they are the only people known to actually read street press magazines, though it is unknown whether this is cultural or a genetic defect.

  The Tunester seems to have originated in the inner city, and this is still considered the spiritual home of Tunesters. Many Tunesters still speak of the city as the ‘promised land’, and express their belief that someday they will pass out of their current bondage and return there, as soon as they quit Kmart and get a job at an independent record shop. Having originated in urban areas, the Tunesters rapidly multiplied and were forced to seek new homes due to capacity limits in local pubs. Today, Tunesters can be found in the suburbs of every major city, and in almost every country town, where they spend most of their time complaining about the lack of a live music scene.