Hey kids. This post is not really very funny because it was written about the one day of the year when I actually try to take things seriously (The other day is November 11, obviously).
So today is apparently a public holiday (I do not know the difference between public holidays and normal workdays, for obvious reasons). It is a public holiday because nearly 100 years ago (woah!) a bunch of Australian and New Zealand and Turkish soldiers died heroically in a brutal struggle while trying to kill each other, on the wrong beach (because England fucked up). Anyway, the holiday has obviously evolved into a celebration of the sacrifices of our soldiers and, despite ardent claims that these sort of holidays ‘glorify’ war, it is a day to reflect on the terrible things that people with guns and bombs and shit can do to each other.
SO THAT IS WHAT I AM GOING TO DO TODAY, EVERYONE.
Actually, ANZAC Day was yesterday and that is what I did, I went to the March/service! No, not that 4am service. No amount of heroic soldier sacrifice for my freedoms will motivate me to get up for 4am, BUT I ACTUALLY GOT UP FOR THE 1PM SERVICE. So back on track. I went to the Victorian Shrine of Remembrance (which is really nice) and sang the national anthem and was quiet for AN ENTIRE MINUTE (except my phone went off, but it was on silent so it’s OK) and I clapped at all the old people who shot other people a long time ago and the other various groups. I even actually got all teary when they were reading the various requiems. At the same time, however, I was analysing “Military Tradition” and imagining a time when seeing soldiers proudly march under the flag would have been amazing and society wasn’t so fucked that things (like our flag) actually had meaning. Then I gave the war widows money for a few plastic poppies, went home and watched a miniseries that pretty much glorifies the Pacific War (even though it’s supposed to not), or more precisely, the American Marines in the Pacific War (the Japanese are evil cunts, obviously, and the army/Australians are stupid; only the Marines are fully sick and are the only heroes/the greatest EVAR.) and then I watched Return of The Jedi because wars with lasers and awesome spaceships with an obvious “good team” and “evil team” are a lot easier to digest.
Anyway, I think, despite my cynicism (which applies to everything). ANZAC Day is one of those days where I actually care and try my hardest to accept that sometimes, historic/traditional ways of doing things are still acceptable for a modern society. Australia Day is a crock of shit because Australia is a fucking joke but I still get drunk and wave flags and try to be nice and enjoy a day with my friends because it isn’t the country’s fault that both of its major parties are predominantly xenophobic, conservative, white male and Christian, but I always feel guilty. Christmas is also fucking joke, even if it is really, really, really fun to do “festive” things with people you like (DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHAT BELIEF/RITUAL/WHATEVER WE ARE CELEBRATING AT CHRISTMAS ANYMORE?) Easter no longer makes any sense and has basically no relevance. It is the single most disrespectful day of the year, I think. I feel bad for the nice Christians (like my mum) who have seen basically their most important ritual completely demolished by capitalist greed. I think ANZAC Day (if you are not from A or NZ I am sure your country’s AC has a Veteran’s Day or something) and Remebrance Day are my favourite “holidays”. Not because I like why they exist, or what they are about, but because they have integrity, they know what they are about and it is a message that hasn’t been polluted by capitalism or religion or racism or sexism or politics or anything. It is because people died or made sacrifices or generally had a shit life because they were doing what they honestly thought was the right thing for the future, and they had this shit life because they wanted everyone who’s ever been alive since (and everyone who will ever be born for the rest of forever) to not have to worry about having a shit life. Strange coincidence that my life is amazing (and therefore not shit). It is the appropriate celebration of death that Western Society needs to embrace, not glorified but not shunned into the gross catacombs and morgues of the underground where we hope it will go away. It’s just nice. I’m not going to go around saying those cheesey cliches like “lest we forget”, which mean absolutely nothing to me, but I am going to be thankful and reflective in my own way. I encourage everybody to do the same.
See you tomorrow, where I will be back to trying to be funny and lighthearted. =)
Love Dave!
Plastic Poppy
PS: It would have been nicer if fucking Collingwood didn’t win the footy.
PSPS/NB: I TOTALLY DIDN’T SAY “THE LORD’S PRAYER” AT THE SERVICE. THAT IS RUDE. NOT EVERY SOLDIER WAS CHRISTIAN.
