I drove past that rabble of social thuggery laying siege to the abode of 'that strange, twitching little man' who was recently released back into the community. Passing through a mob of self-righteous people who feel so obliged to protect the community from the growing spread of zombie predators that lurch out of the shadows ... is a disquieting experience.
And its all because the judge 'didn't get it right' .
Still, why should i care. I can drive past and go home and watch telly. Which i did...but first
A funny thing happened on the way to the electronic forum.
Curiously, 20 k down the road i picked up a young girl hitch-hiking ( a rare thing these days on the eastern sea board) . A sweet person. She told me she was out on the road going on 'an adventure' . I felt obliged to caution her about ...well, you know....being out on the road alone...and the risks of unpackaged adventure. I stopped myself voicing that psychological obtrusion, as I realised I had just witnessed it in action just up the road. The media sucking up the dirt and dispersing it as a fine dust all over the lounge rooms of ...the eastern sea board.
So I took her home.
Back up into the valley.
Where i introduced the family and after a little wine she she went to sleep in the old caravan. She got up early and spent the day walking in the hills.
I saw her briefly later that day, as she caught a lift in the little 4x4 of my fanatical (well... highly zealous, shall we say) Muslim neighbour from Moon Mountain. (that's what we locals call it, anyway)
She had met him and his newly arrived Iranian wife whilst bathing in the high creek above the cascade, up on Moon Mountain.
Anyway, they were going to drop her at the train station so she could return to Brisbane. Apparently, her adventure had'happened'. So...anyrate, she felt she could now return and try and console her flat mate. Their friend, a girl, was murdered five weeks ago in West End.
Curious world. Its beyond my ken.
But, I must go up to the high creek again... soon.
