What’s Wrong With Folly, If It Makes Us Jolly?

                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                                                                                                     

          

 

                                                                                                                                                     

I went to the Immigration Museum today. I saw a short movie in a small dark room. It showed snippets of Archival footage of people in different parts of the world in various traumatic situations., showing what events had forced people to come to Australia. Dead Chinese people being pulled from buildings bombed by the japanese, starving African children being cradled by their mothers, women screaming after an earthquake in Greece, Vietnamese families crowded on to boats that were bound to sink. And the bewildered little jewish boy, being rounded up by a Nazi soldier. I thought of Basil Fawlty raising his fist to the sky and screaming, “Thank you God, thank you so bloody much”.

I went outside and started riding home through the City streets. I saw groups of smiling young people, waving various national flags – they’re pilgrims from around the world, here for the Catholic Youth Festival. I felt like raising my fist and screaming, “There’s no God, you bloody idiots, can’t you understand!” But they looked happy – so I shut up.