Hello Australia,
I’m an American. I write a column for this magazine. I have been asked by someone named Erik Lavoie to write about Australia for this issue. Who is Erik Lavoie? Maybe it is your Prime Minister. Do you have Prime Ministers? I think you do. This brings up a good point, however. I, like 99.9 percent of the rest of the world (fuck you, New Zealand, I wasn’t talking to you), don’t know dick about your country. I’m sorry—I was educated in American public schools. Here’s what I do know: You are descended from the most base and perverse of the criminal element in England. There are quite often bitchin’ waves. You had too many cane toads at one point and had to start eating them at every meal. You, like us here in America, have criminally mistreated the indigenous people whose land you stole. You had a big fight at Gallipoli during the first of the three world wars and now you help the Turks celebrate “Anzac Day” or something like that. Outside of Fosters beer, Crocodile Dundee is your most famous export. Yahoo Serious is your least famous export. I also know that You Am I is the best rock band alive today and that the Sydney Opera House seems to photograph well. Oh, I almost forgot, the male population in Australia is known for being such a “macho,” insular society that foreigners who visit often question your sexuality.
That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. This lack of information isn’t only my fault. You are to blame as well. You’ve got to be more assertive. Have you invented anything worthwhile? If so, tell us about it. Is there any TV programming over there that isn’t a blatant rip-off of American or English television? Give a shout. Perhaps you could hire a high-priced public-relations firm to bombard America with Australian pop culture. That’s what we do sometimes. Check in with the Arab world and you’ll know what I’m talking about. Maybe you could “talk funny” like New Zealanders. What about starting an international dance craze? Make up a stupid dance and call it the “Australian Wiggle” or some shit. What about food? Why don’t you people start eating koala bears and talk about how good they are and what a delicacy they make. Get the Japanese to go nuts for them (they’ll eat the craziest shit) and then a demand will be created!!! Not wanting to be left behind or thought of as “uncool,” you’ll have rich, stupid Americans paying bricks of gold for them sooner than you can say, “G’day, mate. Throw some shrimp on the barbie. Paul Hogan’s coming and he’s a real douchebag.” I lied. That’s all I know. So why don’t you guys tether your island/continent to a tugboat and bring it closer to the States, or “Big Brother.” Then I’ll sit down with you and we can watch a big American-made movie while eating a slice of pizza and guzzling down an ice-cold Budweiser. Wouldn’t that be nice?
DAVID CROSS
