Mangled Thoughts

Melbourne drivers are shockers at the best of times, the speed tax collection cameras don’t have any bearing upon stopping homicidal and suicidal tendencies of drivers. Pedestrians, to muse, like jumping out against lights and drivers motoring on. Bicycalists believe, when a driver is, for example, turning left, they ,from far behind,can none-the-less undertake. One berkcyclist tried that stunt aganst me why only this week.I nearly sent him into hospital but, somehow, he managed to get through: bad luck, I missed out on a hundred pointer score. Ralph Schumacher reckons, Melbourne drivers are the worst, but he hasn’t seen them during the advent season, which, annually, seems to bring out at their maniacal best.

Drivers everywhere but Melbourne work on the standard traffic signals. Well, yes, Melbournians do, in reverse order. While waiting for the traffic to clear to make a right hand turn Tuesday evening, the lights turned amber, the traffic kept flowing, and kept flowing after they had turned red. This explains why, no doubt, there have been a very large number of crashes at intersections, this season or, rather more than the regular large numbers throughout the year.

The antiquarian drivers can’t quite give up the old habit of stopping at amber, proceeding on green. Given magistrates in Melbourne have found in favour of drivers who drive dangerously, it is clear, antiquarians are always in the wrong. Overseas readers reading this with a sceptical eye-lid raised have, obviously, never motored around Melbourne during the advent season. Schumacher, I believe, hasn’t either at advent ventured the wild south, but, it is reasonable to assume, it wouldn’t surprise him one bit.

Grand Prix drivers are not particulalry fond of another road rule favoured by many Melbourne drivers. Indeed, when a racing driver has decided it is tickety-boo to do it, what usually happens is, the offended driver climbs out of his mangled wreck, saunters over to the other guy, who is pondering why the offended failed to obey the novel racing rule still seated in his steaming heap of crumpled junk, exchanges pleasantries and then biffs the bastard on the nose. Yes, the driver who, impatient, or simply would like to go faster, changes into a lane when a driver is already beside, say, the rear passenger driver’s side door. This week, one felt like the racer who does the biffing, as a zooted girly in a green plastic bubble took a fancy to the lane I was in. Having hooted the horn, she stopped, which of course entailed a car behind her slamming on his brakes and so on, and also cars behind me . She looked at me with a dumbed down blank stare which reminded me of nothing more than a dribbling village idiot. I didn’t get out and biff her on the nose, I shook my fist, mouthing polite correction to the adult. She must be possessed of all the maturity of a juvenile delinquent , she got upset and from what could be observed, she threw a tantrum: See, this is one grotesque upshot of commie govt., Brackistaniland (1).

This advent season has seen Melbourne drivers lift their game in the maniacs’ stakes, they hit upon a new joy. Forget the regular head-on collision, the tail-ender, the side-swipe, they’re for wimps. Who-ever invented this one, it has been all the rage for the past fortnight , crashing into buildings. An L plater, yesterday evening, for example, on a short straight section, in a slow street curling through a shopping centre, humped the curb into the plate glass of an office building. Whatever was engaged, it wasn’t her brain, nor the steering wheel, nor the brake pedal. I boggle at the L plated one, what she will be capable of when she is fully licenced. The driving technique described is called: the Building Demolition Job.

Even tiny tots can master this one, they’re off to a flying start, literally. This week, one 3 year old, climbed into the driver seat of the family hearse, in the garage, and, unlocked the brakes and shoved it into neutral. The 4wd rolled through the back wall of the garage and took flight for a long drop. The little bugger walked away unscathed.

Can’t wait for the day when the little bugger will have learnt to start engine, engage gears and, well, move, but this is a good clue: A lady driving along a street showed fine style in taking a curve. She ventured to put a new straight side street into a neighbourhood by driving into a garage. Her effort was textbook Building Demolition Job driving, having collapsed not only the garage door, but some crucial roof supports. A mark off, however, the residents cars were not in the garage at the time.

She was in breach of O.H.&S., the rule being: You must not actually be inside the building, even if seated inside the demolition machine, when you demolish the building. O.H.&S., however, does not apply to the driving definition of the Building Demolition Job, which is to wreak as much devestation as possible including to your own vehicle, and, the driver must be, it is definitely part of the code, must be in trhe car, in the driver’s seat, this is not negotiable. Failure to be in the driver’s seat will put a judge off finding in favour of said driver and thus ordering the victims to pay compensation and all costs to the Building Demolition Job driver.

The technique has caught on, I’ve lost count of how many buildings have been converted into developers’ greenfiled sites, from light house garages to muti-storied office buildings. As I say, it is all the rage. Why, only this morning, another driver successfully executed the B.D.J. against an office block. This is besides, the meeting of an antiquarian with a post modern deconstructionist in an intersection, and a rather large number of crashes blocking, for about the umpteenth time in a fortnight, major arteries. This is Melbourne drivers at their maniacal best, executing major arteries blocking crashes simultaneously, forcing all other drivers to converge onto other roads which entails a trip time of , 2-3 hours instead of the regular 20minutes to 3/4 of an hour. The reason is plain, it is about inflicting excruciating pain on the majority of drivers. Say, 6 or so drivers, they pull off the Simultaneous Reduction of Highways into ruddy little urban avenues, and you are in the picture. Throw in a truck, even better. The sheer pleasure Melbourne drivers derive when they manage this stunt, at least once a week, is naked to see.

I’m heading off early this afternoon for a week and a few days long break . One will not feel safe until one is well clear of the bastards, motoring along open country roads which the blisters don’t use because, they don’t have a clue about those routes, thank god. For, yes, come the summer vacation season, having been on top of each other all year long, come, they all drive off together, and, live on top of each other - not where I’m going, thank god, and, yes, crash together on main highways, the only routes, thank god, those headless chooks are familar with.

Yes maniac season commences in advent and continues on and on and on all through the summer. Which is why, New Year’s Eve is always tolled in by some smashing maniacal techniques of post moderne deconstructionist driving. Schumacher said, Melbourne driver’s are frightening, but he’s only seen them at their best and in the off-season. He should venture down-under to Melbourne during Advent.

Deck the halls with bent bumper bars, tra la la la la.

Good King Wenscles last looked out, on a Melbourne Street,
Which is why he’s dead.

Ding Dong Merrily on High, that’s the D.B.J. a ringing.

Riding in the drag, in a four wheeled bubble car, no hands on the wheel..hey.

Silent night, holy night, round yond corner comes a maniac…

O come, o come, Emanuelle, in your big 4WD,
To block the roads and smash my panels…

I’m dreaming of a maniac free Christams, like the ones I never knew…

Noel, noel, sang the great ambulence men….
Born in Melbourne this morn is one more little bugger behind a steering wheel…

`Hark!’ The Herald Angels did sing,` Quick, Get out of Melbourne if you wish to live…’

….

(1) Next year, one might just document the Brackistaniland infantilisising of Melbournians with a long list of examples. Not today, of course … I am paying heed to the Herald Angels this afternoon.