The bogan is a lucid and inventive reptile. It likes a considerable number of things. When it sees a potential synergy between two or more of these things, it has an instinctive feel for how to bring them together. After many years of it and its friends paying considerable amounts of money for fuzzy glamour photography and fuzzy photographs of it running red lights, the bogan realises that it has all of the necessary attributes to become a brilliant artist; probably the world’s best photographer. All that is missing is a short course on photography.
Four Thursday nights later, this missing link has been overcome, and the bogan is ready to bloom. Well, after it marches out and creates a fresh $3,500 of credit card debt on a digital SLR camera and whatever lenses, tripods, bags, software, and random accessories the guy in the camera shop gets the most commission for. At this point, the bogan spies another potential synergy. It creates a facebook group that it requests all of its friends to join. The facebook group boasts of the bogan’s expert skills in everything ranging from landscape shots to weddings. Its strident anti-intellectualism prohibits it from understanding why anyone would waste time completing a degree in something that is so intuitive and natural to the photographic bogan. “Finally, reasonable prices 4 great photography!”, one of its friends posts on the group’s wall, under instruction from the group’s creator. The bogan struts around with its new equipment.
After its first wedding shoot is complete, the bogan sits down at its computer to display its photoshopping skills. First stop is to delete all shots taken without removing the lens cap. Next, to make the shots sepia, like all good photos are. It then adds in a digital lens flare, a border, and then restores the colour blue to the photo, for max art value. Due to it knowing only how to use the default settings on its high quality camera, and the abovementioned four tricks on Photoshop, the process stops at this point. The bogan exclaims that it is “as good as the pros!”, and then concludes that it IS a pro. The wonky, tasteless, poorly lit photographs are then presented to the newlyweds. It quickly becomes apparent that the extra $400 to get a proper photographer would have been money well spent, and the happy couple informs the bogan of their lack of happiness with its handiwork.
The bogan’s creative ego is under siege at this point, so some form of tenuous scapegoat is scrambled for, and quickly located. Nevertheless, the customer demands a partial refund, which coincides with the camera equipment heading into the rumpus room cupboard for an indefinite period.