The bogan, as we have well learned by now, has an astonishingly broad vocabulary with which to insult other bogans. All of these words tend to coalesce around a euphemism for homosexual, of course, but the myriad ways that the bogan can suggest homosexuality (the fact that homosexuality is an insult is implicit) boggle the mind. When insulting non-bogans, however, the insults tend to be limited variations on sipping/quaffing milk with their coffee or sipping/quaffing white wine from the grape ‘chardonnay’. Or calling them hippies. Bogans hate hippies.
As the political class have increasingly courted the bogan over successive generations, and the corporate world has become more sophisticated in persuading the bogan to act against its own interests, we live in a world today of growing income inequality. Meanwhile bogans remain the prime beneficiaries of the explosion in welfare payments that do little to even out income inequality.
Thus, the ‘occupy’ movement sprung up. Originating in New York as an inchoate response to corporate influence on the political process, it was co-opted (as these things always are) by many and varied disgruntled protest groups who feel the need to piggyback their drive for pushing the socialist alternative on everyone else. In Melbourne’s city square, the largest of these movements resulted in a small tent city of disparate protest movements all loosely confederated around a hatred of ‘the man’. Members of these groups tend to have dreadlocks. Unless the locker of said dreads be black, nothing spells ‘hippie’ to the bogan more than dreadlocks and/or fisherman’s pants. Ipso facto, these protests were the purview of hippies and everything they stand for is uniformly incorrect.
Meanwhile, the monumental political failure that is Robert Doyle sniffed the wind. Melbourne’s Lord Mayor, having failed at every other political office he even considered standing for, realised that these people were hippies and a bogan windfall could be won by having his stormtroopers crack some heads.
The bogan, need it be repeated, is comfortably ensconced in its cocoon of normalcy. The bogan has its quarter-acre, its IKEA furniture, its large car and its porn collection, all designed to allow it to exist in such a way that it never interacts with those it finds unlike itself. Thus, it is offended by the existence of those unwashed and dissimilar who insist on appearing in public places where they cannot be easily ignored. Seeing Melbourne Police arrive in riot gear and comprehensively pound the living crap out of these people who were breaking no law is thus deeply satisfying to the bogan, which can then turn back to the news and listen to the report on how many police were injured in the operation. It will not hear that they were injured by their own capsicum spray. And it likes it that way.