For a brief moment in the 1980s, America experienced something of an Australian craze.Whether it was the rise of Mel Gibson, or even the highly catchy pop songs from the likes of Men At Work, for a few months it felt like just about everyone was talking about firing up the barbie and chugging a few tinnies of Fosters.
Nothing says Halloween quite like a good horror story… and nothing says horror stories to the staff of The Weekly Constitutional quite like the exploits of Cletus T. Broshus; our favorite pot addled monster hunter.
There was a time, before the Order and the rule of the Lord Marshal... A time of chaos and disorder and violence and wrath... A time when life was lived by the rule of the sword and the ferocity of the man that wielded it. Of loose tribes and warring clans... It was a time of strife and difference... A time of death.
And it is a time that is coming again.
My four year old daughter has a rather eclectic taste in music. I'd say she gets it from me, and perhaps in its inception it may have very well been my direct thumbprint on that ear of hers. But I'm pretty sure it's YouTube now that's guiding her selections now (I guess I can take credit for having cultivated the odd search history that would generate the selections), and it's certainly odd.
It must be another election cycle, as we are again talking about immigration; something politicians love to bring up and kick around ever couple of years or so (and never do a goddamned thing about).