The bogan doesn’t care if people it doesn’t know die, unless they speak English and die in maxtreme quantities. Or if they don’t, and die in quantities so maxtreme as to depopulate a region of the planet. The time it will care most, though, is when deaths happen ‘close to home’, which is why the bushfires in Victoria last year and the insulation fires of 2010 have led to the bogan being deeply concerned for its own safety. And, oh, yeah, other people’s too.
In the trashmedia Kraken’s frantic flailing for megajustice, someone to blame is found ASAP. Customarily, it’s someone who has been blamed before. Politicians are popular, immigrants are ascendant, and, of course, ‘society’ is never far from the limelight. Thankfully, the bogan is capable of holding others to higher standards than it expects from itself.
Peter Garrett is a case in point. In his past incarnation as the frontman of Midnight Oil, Garrett was the happy recipient of a free pass from most bogans. Even though his politically-charged lyrics may have borne a distinct whiff of Political Correctness Gone Mad, Garrett had to wait until they voted him in before he was derided for it. And even though many bogans vociferously deny the existence of something so patently ridiculous as the “environment”, Garrett was criticised as a sell-out and a hypocrite for making the leap from activist to pragmatist.
But it wasn’t until some point in early 2010, when Garrett inadvertently signed on as Minister Directly Responsible for Workplace Deaths, that he really copped it from the bogan. Despite the fact that insulation was installed in the homes of bogans who capitalised on the offer of cheap insulation, without actually checking to see if the installer knew a pink batt from a pink bit, every death was Garrett’s fault. The bogan’s opinion about this was informed, then reinforced, by daily updates from Tracy Grimshaw, who, without so much as batting her reptilian eyelids, followed up with a story about dodgy tradies.
More recently, Christine Nixon, former Victoria Police Commissioner, has experienced the bogan’s righteous punishment. After realising that The Butterfly Effect was a pretty sick band AND an Ashton Kutcher movie, it looked it up. As it turns out, when Christine Nixon sunk her choppers into her chicken parmigiana at the pub last February, the displacement of parma air triggered a roaring gale 60km northwest of the pub, which fanned the flames to the extent that it eliminated septuagenarian former bogan news source Brian Naylor. The bogan knew that she must pay, and pay so much more than the $18 for the parma. The bogan wants her, as a murderer of hundreds, to never receive payment for anything ever again. It is likely to prevail.