media; humour

The red revolution

I’M not one of them, but I understand their struggle. And really, I feel like I should be given honourary  status amongst their people.

My wife is a red-head and so are my four children. I don’t want to perpetuate any myths here by saying they’re all mad – but, THEY’RE ALL MAD!! It’s like living among some ancient Scottish mountain tribe and you never know when the next bloody battle is about to start.

It should come as no surprise really, for red-headedness actually originated in Scandinavia, home of the Viking. In case you hadn’t heard, the Vikings were sometimes given over to their own fits of madness.  Sometimes, before raids, they’d eat magic mushrooms, then drink the magic-mushroom-laced urine that came from it. The strange brew would send them into a hallucinogenic killing frenzy. Amongst these early trippers were the red-heads. Not sure what this practice did to their DNA, but it can’t have been good. (Note: I read all about this stuff in a fairly trashy magazine. It sounds true, but may not be.)

The truth be known, my facial hair turns ginger when it grow long enough. So maybe I’m not as sane as I’d believed. I’d always thought my wife and kids were the mad ones – but maybe it’s just me, looking at their sane little world through my mad eyes. Maybe it’s the battle between my ginger side (kept forever at bay by a razor) and my blonde/grey side. The eternal conflict.

It’s true that red-headed people feel different and are different. There was talk some time ago – my wife and children all knew it was bollocks – that red-heads’ days were numbered. They were being bred out of existence. This ridiculous theory was oblivious posited by someone who’d never been to Leongatha. Come to this little enclave of red-headedness, boffin. You’ll be given a rude shook. Far from being bred out of existence, the red-heads are actually gaining ground.

The resistance is a happy circumstance to me.  I say they’re all mad and make silly references to drug-affected Vikings, but really I’d be quite happy for the whole world to turn red, with me known as the father – or at least a stud – of the revolution.  Have no illusions, they do mean to take over. And when they outnumber the rest of us, there will be bloodshed. You can only call a people ranga, bonzo, agent orange, annie, ang mo, copper head, copper knob, el gingero, fred the red, Garfield, redzee, redwood, trusty rusty, bushfire or Li’l Red for so long, before something gives.

Watch out non red-headed people, for you may someday pay with your life. I know what I’ll been doing when the revolution starts in earnest. I’ll be growing a beard and hoping like hell it’s still ginger and not grey.  Failing that, I’ll be calling on the protection of my wife and kids – and hoping they still love me.

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