The ecstasy of outrage

The girls/ladies/comrades/sisters at my work are all extremely intelligent, hard-working, gorgeous and broad-minded. Every day I learn something from them and admire their research goals, social consciences and their senses of humour.

However, there's one thing they enjoy doing that is so predictable and provides me with no end of free amusement. They love to read articles in The Australian or opinions and quotes attributed to fellow bozos John Howard/Peter Costello/Tony Abbott/Joe Hockey/Alexander Downer - hell, even Nicole Cornes - and puff themselves up with righteous indignation..




You know, that MillyMoo ought to take a good, hard look at herself...
Yes, she should pull her socks up and remember her manners....


Every morning, as we all arrive, get our coffees and ease ourselves into our working day, my esteemed colleagues start up their ecstasy of outrage conversations. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, but it tends to go something like this:

Dulcie: Oooh, did you see what that Peter Hendy bloke from the Chamber of Commerce wrote about the latest WorkChoices debacle? He's the spitting image of Peter Reith----

Joyce: ----as if one wasn't ugly and awful enough------

Esme: That's nothing. What about that stupid Pecker head Corrigan and his arse-end article on why the 'Bastard Boys' got it all wrong? All it proves is that they were right - he is a total pecker head! Greg Combet got a good run though.... He's not a bad piece of intellectual erotica is he? I'd gladly take off his glasses and -----

Eunice: Steady on Esme, it's only 9.15am and you haven't even finished your skinny capp yet!
Mmm, well I'm still reeling at the sheer cheek of Johnny Boy Howard telling Alan Jones that he's a forward thinker---

Mavis: ----maybe forward from 1954 to 1955, heh heh heh-----

Dulcie, entering the office: Nicole Cornes has kept her blonde head down for a bit, hasn't she?

Joyce: Most likely being indoctrinated by Rudd's little roustabouts. You know, learning how to spell 'parliament', picking out Kevin Rudd from a line-up and memorising their policy on uranium and that.

Esme: I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than the frontal lobotomy that Nicole needs to function properly-----

Eunice: Don't you worry, I've already nominated you for taking tickets at the next union fundraiser, so keep a hold of those brain cells, you hear?

Mavis: What about me? I'll even shave my legs for the event if I'm allowed to get up on stage and maintain the rage...."

I sit there and have a good chuckle at their friendly and familiar rants. All I need to do to get their ire going is to continue to yell out stuff like "Andrew Bolt", or "Jeanette Howard's in the Bulletin as Mother of the Year" or "The cute guy from the Chaser is dating Angela Bishop". If only I could harness their good humoured verbal vitriol as a green energy source.

Bless them - their average age is thirty six!