17.
A
Brief Detour into the Life & Times of Melbourne’s Rudiger Otwey Before He Went
Rogue
*explosive synth music and
helicopter shot of Melbourne from the bay*
Have a look, would you?
Good
old bonny Melbourne. Home of commerce, industry, the arts, and the finest
dining the world can offer. Cultural capital of Australia. Wide avenues and
shopping as far as you can imagine.
Another
Holdingstock construction over there – making Melbourne one grand skyscraper at
a time. Builders hard at it. A city on the move! Plenty of work for everyone.
No gig economy here. Regular employment and smiling faces.
Isn’t
that right lads?
Love
the thumbs up! How’s the attitude of our driven citizens?
Off
go a couple of fine dames in search of the latest fashion. So many choices,
right ladies? Anything you want. For the right price, too. Be sure to check out
the Paris End on Collins. Burberry, croissants, and only the finest imported
coffee!
How about some
lunch? Our friend Maxwell Olinda will be more than happy to look after you! His
three Michelin star restaurant, Paddox, is renowned for its organic
ingredients, ethical on-site slaughterhouse, and his world-renowned white
risotto with braised invasion rabbit.
The
bustle of the city too much for you?
Beaches are a
hop, skip, and jump away. The beautiful Port Phillip Bay with views of the Westgate
Bridge: a structural marvel. And, you mustn’t miss the St Kilda Esplanade: the
sparkling crown of Melbourne. Clean streets and markets of rare trinkets.
Friendly, well-heeled locals.
Maybe, get out
in the burbs. Terrace housing and Californian bungalows, penthouses and
jaw-dropping town houses, Victorian manses and refitted commission flats – any
of these could be your future home! Trees and parks. Dog friendly. Cafes on
every corner. Friendly milkbars. Retail for every desire. Boutique car
dealerships. Private schooling.
Give
us a wave, kids!
In
Melbourne, education is paramount. All about instilling pride, worldly safe practice,
and proper Medias integration. We want our future citizens to be active, aware,
contributing, and capable Public Space users.
We gather
strength together!
Don’t
they look so professional in their little blazers with their computers and backpacks?
Go learn, kids! Melbourne is calling. The future is waiting.
Ah,
there goes a member of the Ministry. Proud fellow, isn’t he? Doing his civic
duty. Helping write the laws that protect us! Looks like he works in Pub &
Bar Regulation, responsible for the imminent – and eminently sensible –
Stackhat Statute which will shield the heads of Melbournians everywhere from
their own silly pratfalls after a skinful.
(We
welcome good times here!)
Go on good
man. Do us all proud! Keep devising ways of insulating us against our silliest
mistakes!
Without
our Ministry – well, who can tell what Melbourne would be like?!
But,
how do we maintain it? We turn to the Biffs for that. A rough and tumble old
fashioned name for our honest and effective enforcers of the law and Ministry.
Here comes one now. Looks like he’s on a mission!
Say,
‘hello,’ Rudiger!
‘Hello.’
Rudiger
is one of our very finest Biffs. A supreme keeper of the peace, bar none. A
former champion centre half forward for the Dees. Carrying your Administration
Tool, there, we can see.
‘My
cricket bat? Yes.’
Well done! What
have you been up to today, Rudiger?
‘Had
to speak with some financiers in the CBD who misplaced their Ministry taxes.’
Did
they listen?
‘Sure.
They usually do. Only takes my cricket bat and the bit of sense I talk into
them. The rhetoric of a greater good always sees payment in the end.’
Our
sweet Biffs are far from wild, ill-disciplined brutes. Rudiger is a finely
spoken specimen. Aren’t you, Rudiger?
‘I
try. Better to wield my body language with eloquence than raw power. It has
proven much more effective. If they can see their fault, there is less need for
me to physically intercede.’
Of
course, you rarely encounter such misinformed and uneducated malcontents who
warrant anything other than a stern talk?
‘You
could surmise so, yes.’
And
where are you heading now?
‘North.’
Ah,
the near-fabled north. A bastion of free thought, alternative mindsets, music,
and lefties. Home of vegans and reverb. The next area in Melbourne the Ministry
has tapped for Public Works. There has been much joy up there about the
prospect of prosperity.
‘I
would not say there has been much “joy.” Rather, expressions of a widespread Delinquency:
a rebellion of a kind. They’ve been experimenting with soundwaves to ward me
and the other Biffs off. It’s doing strange things to their physiology. I
expect the north will need more than just a few speeches and policy initiatives
to come on board. The rough side of my cricket bat for insta –’
Go
get em, sport! Watch him go. Greatest and most spirited of our brave Biffs.
Carries himself like a high flying, hard thinking man. Exquisite. A sight like
so many others here.
Grand
Melbourne is waiting for you. Safe and free. Growing, with happy citizens willing
to welcome one and all with open arms.
This video was brought to you
by the Ministry of Melbourne Public Broadcast & Medias Office. It was spoken
by Robert Asher.
*crackling video footage,
handheld over the shoulder, a sparsely furnished warehouse apartment*
A man doubled over on the floor.
Long hair. Torn jeans. Flannel shirt. Soot stains and charred fabric.
Another
man standing over him with a cricket bat. Broad and tall. Sinew tight and
explosive. Wearing the grey uniform of the Ministry Biffs. Breathing, but not
hard. Matter of fact.
‘Tell
me again,’ said the man wielding the cricket bat.
‘Why,
Rudiger? I’ve already –’
‘For
the camera this time,’ said Rudiger. ‘All confessions need to be verified on video
and added to the Medias Archive. You know this. Everyone needs access to the
verifiable functioning of the law. Ministry orders.’
The
man on his knees looks up. Face bruised and beaten bloody. Missing teeth.
‘I
burned down that Ministry building in Fitzroy.’
‘Why?’
‘Cos,
I thought the paperwork for the Fitzroy and Brunswick Public Works was in
there. The plans to rebuild and refit Sydney Road. Kick us all out. Move us to
the Wastes.’
‘You
admit to Public Property arson?’
‘Yes.
Yes, I did it,’ said the man. He looks up at Rudiger, hands trying to come
together in a prayerful gesture. ‘Can you just take me away now, Rudiger?
Please? I’ve done what you asked.’
Soft
flesh sound of cricket bat falling into palm. Over and agin.
‘Did
you ever hear about the kangaroo and the trapdoor spider in her pouch?’ asked
Rudiger. ‘How that roo came to nurse and treat the arachnid like its child? It
grew and grew in the warmth of that pouch. Becoming fat and hairy. Immense as
it suckled on her milk. Safe from the dangers of the outside world. Until, one
day it bit into the kangaroo and fatally poisoned her. As she died, she asked
the spider why did he do it? And he said, he meant nothing by it. Partly, it
was his nature. Partly, it was because her pouch could never be the fake
trapdoor he felt compelled to build and hide within. Partly, because he never
cared for her and didn’t understand why she had ever taken him on. He owed her
nothing. She died and he left. Then, as the spider scuttled away, an enormous
boomer came and kicked him to death.’
The
man on the floor stares. Unmoving.
‘You
see, the problem is, you all never get it,’ said Rudiger. ‘You are all as entitled
and vicious as the spider unaware that the wider world could care less. As naïve
as the roo mother. And, in the end, nothing more than a story. A figment that can
be shaped to suit another’s will in their telling.’ He flexes the cricket bat. ‘In
this version, friend, on this tape, you are just another example of why you
should not ever burn Public Property … and I am the boomer.’
The
bat swings –
*the video crackles and goes
to white*
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