World

While Google Earth cannot be used to crack a nut or put together an Ikea flatpack, it is a fantastic tool to remind you exactly where in the world you are. I'd been plugging in a few places in the world I'd spent a bit of time. A paddock in Scotland where exhausted myself trying to touch a sheep. A street in Paris where I smugly let an American tourist try to ask me for directions in French. A museum on a hill in Linz where I watched snow falling on Hitler's favorite city - a breathtaking sight, but still not enough to put the 'Ryan' back in Aryan.

My little friend Martha snuck in to the office and surprised me by tickling my neck like a spider... again. 'Look, here's us.' I showed her Maningrida from above. 'And this,' I tapped the keyboard, 'is where I lived in Melbourne.' The computer zoomed out and whizzed across Australia, finally focusing on a little suburban house. Martha looked at me suspiciously, then a big cheeky grin spread across her face, "Bullshit."

I'm told you set a poor example to laugh out loud when a kid swears in front of you. I guess scratching her belly and feeding her liver-treats was only exacerbating that poor example. What? She's not my kid. If she were my kid, she'd be addressing all adults as 'Jack' and flipping the bird at parking officers, the elderly and anyone on a mobile phone. It's good to teach kids to be assertive. That way you never have to hit your child. You can wait for the general public to do it for you.

Besides, I knew what she was talking about. I wake up every morning and look out the window and think, bullshit. When did we get to Disneyland? How the hell did I end up here? Wasn't I living a cushy life in a big cosmopolitan city before I went to bed? I swear, the last thing I remember I was sitting at a bar in St. Kilda and getting a phone call. The voice at the other end was upfront. "Do you want to go to the Northern Territory?"
'Yeah, sure, I guess. Just let me finish this pint.' Twenty-three seconds later I was on a plane or something. All I know is I could hear stewardesses voices and rushing wind. Perhaps I'd fallen asleep under the hand-drier in the women's toilet. That'd explain the poor service, the slimy peanuts and that graffiti on my arse.

I'm in the middle of nowhere and it really helps to be reminded of that every now and then. It helps put all the gossip, the motivations and global politics in perspective. When you fly out of Maningrida you look back down at that collection of sheds in the bush and wonder why everything seemed to mean so much there. It's not just little towns - I get the same feeling flying out of Melbourne. Places are all the same. The only things that change are the architecture, the taste of the water and the quality of the coffee. The quality of the Coffey always remains the same. BAM! ZING! PAH-CHING! Excuse me for a second while I do a short but intricately rehearsed victory dance. Two great name gags in one entry - I may have accidentally knocked the top off. 'Clean up to aisle five!'

Here's the pitch: a new reality TV show called 'Population Swap'. Take two countries of massively disproportionate populations and have them swap countries for a week. We send the Japanese to South Africa, the Chinese to Tuvalu, and the English to Wales. It'd be a hit. We'd laugh, we'd cry, we'd all learn a lesson - it'd be like a high-school run entirely by clowns with AIDS. All we need is a celebrity host with a massive rack. Hey, if Apple ever brought out breast implants would they call them iRaqs? Just a thought for you boys at Apple. I know you could always use an extra penny. Feel free to steal my shit - I'm stealing yours.

So there you go - the world's problems solved once again. I'm getting good at this. I should really open up like a worlds consultancy firm or something. I'd be all like, 'So what's your problem?' And the world would be like,
"Yeah, nothing. I was just chilling and shit."
'Then why are you wasting my time, bitch? You think you're the only world in the universe?' And the world would be all like, "Nah-yeah, I don't have a problem. But I got this friend who's a world and he just can't seem to get his shit together." I'd like walk him to the window and point out at the night sky - business hours are late 'cause I've got tanning to do during the day. 'See that world there?' I'd ask the world.
"Yeah?"
'That's where I come from, Jack!' The world would look at me suspiciously, then a big cheeky grin spread across its face, "Bullshit."