Articles from Things Bogans Like
We have been harsh on the bogan, in the sincere belief that we were also being fair. We told you that the bogan is an empty vessel, a gaping maw just begging to have celebrity-of-the-month gossip regurgitated into it. We dared to suggest that the bogan stands for nothing, falls for everything, and possesses no enduring convictions beyond the urge to demonstrate its own loathsomeness.
The neck has spent years out on the bogan frontier. It was only after sweet tribal sleeves, some mad calf tatts, and some sick chest and back pieces of dragons that the bogan would start nominating its neck as prime real estate for the newest visual representation of its soul. Similarly, it has been willing to have any number of its orifices (orifii?) violated in preference to turning up somewhere with a plum-coloured hickey bruise on its neck.
The bogan is perpetually curious. As the world rockets from dial-up porn to broadband porn to live-streaming HD NBN porn, from Carlisle to Gaga to Skrillex, from real politicians to ‘female’ politicians, it can all get a bit much, and the bogan periodically needs to take stock and assess the state of the universe.
So it Asks Questions.
It is just plain wrong to categorise the bogan as a straightforward, simple creature. There is nothing simple about naming a child “Mhadeziyn”, attempting to perch atop a revolving system of four different interest-free finance facilities, and clutching seventeen different mutually exclusive conspiracy theories about foreigners, allergies, and corporate fat cats.