armless dummies

The Human Aquarium


I am sitting at my usual table in the Coffee shop

at my local Shopping Centre.

From my vantage point I can look through the large feature window

and watch the many varieties of humanity drift by in dribs and drabs, as I sip my coffee and dream. It is like looking at a particularly well-stocked Aquarium, and like any keen naturalist, I take many notes on the inhabitants I observe. Extracts from field-diary follows..


An Incongruous Couple?

An enormous Fat boy walks hand-in-hand with his cute, blond girl-friend. He is probably in his twenties, but his weight somehow

makes him seem like a big, tubby kid. His face is beaming with joy, you can see he almost squirms with delight

at having this beautiful girl by his side.

Given his girth and prevailing Societal standards of “Beauty” I’m guessing he hasn’t had too many girlfriends before this and now he’s overjoyed with his good fortune.

His comparatively diminutive girlfriend seems happy also. Perhaps she feels lucky too. Perhaps beneath all that blubber is a really nice guy; funny, intelligent, sensitive, etc., and now she’s delighted to have found him after meeting so many good-looking bastards.


An African Goddess

She sways and sashays across the Parking Lot,

a slender African Goddess.

In my mind’s eye I can see her walking thus over endless desert sands, graceful and grave, a great clay pot filled with grain or water balanced on her head, spilling not a drop on her journey.

A few years ago, perhaps, she was doing just that, but her family has fled that war-torn desert land and now here she is,

sailing serenely

through an Australian parking lot.

Her hair is dyed a metallic bronze that gleams

brightly in the midday sun.


A drunk and dishevelled man goes by limping on crutches,

his left leg entirely encased in a plaster cast. He wears on his head ornamental reindeer horns. It’s not Christmas.

tai chi hand strawberry circle

Fat People on the tide

Like a drifting swarm of jellyfish, a tide of fat people engulfs the Shopping Centre. Ungainly, unlovely, their pale, dough bellies spilling out everywhere, they stuff enormous wads of take-away food into their gaping maws, and wipe away the crumbs with grotesquely swollen paws.

I am the thinnest person for miles it seems. I slip amongst the Dough People, a skinny skeleton dressed in black, like Death at the Feast.

Two obese Islanders are waddling in front of me; She is tightly wrapped in a sarong, producing an effect like an overstuffed, bulging flour-bag about to burst at the seams. He is wearing shorts and thongs. His flabby thighs flap and slap against each other as he shambles along.

Both are fairly short, maybe about 5’4″-5’3″. Their lack of stature only goes to emphasise their bulk.

A typical example, I suppose, of Third World health and physique gone all to Hell after contact with the sugar/flour/alcohol fueled, sedentary modern Lifestyle..


A Sikh taxi-driver gets out of his “Yellow Cabs” vehicle. His

saffron dyed turban, a flaming, fluorescent orange, is exactly the same colour as his vehicle..


The Little Vietnamese guy with the hat

He’s been hovering in my field of vision and the edge of my consciousness for awhile now, as though to say, “What about me? You haven’t written about me yet”. So I suppose it’s his turn.

The little Vietnamese guy with the hat is one of the Shopping Centre’s permanent fixtures. He is always there and he is always wearing his uniform of Pork Pie Hat, bright blue short-sleeved sports shirt, with white shorts, socks and sandals. In Winter he adds a blue coat to his ensemble.

He is clearly mad and on a pension, but he is always smiling and knows all the security staff and shop assistants and talks to them all.

I have never actually seen him do any shopping. He just hangs around and talks to anyone who will listen. This is his Life. He has nothing else to do, is utterly harmless and without his presence the Centre would somehow be the emptier. He is an integral part of it’s Collective Soul.

Interestingly the one person he doesn’t seem to approach is me.

I sense I make him nervous and he avoids eye contact.

I don’t know why. Perhaps he senses me studying him.

Perhaps he’s afraid I’ll write about him, and by doing so somehow steal a bit of his soul, the way primitive peoples are said to be afraid of having their photo taken..


To be Continued…

cat and old man


The Rev has a touch of the flu, and so, has delayed

 his much  anticipated Nimbin WPPC 2015 review till next week

when he can do justice to the event.


Following Jpig


tai chi hand strawberry circle

The Reverend Hellfire

is President of the Kurilpa Institute of Creativity Inc., an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists

AND the Church of the Universe 

and Australia’s scariest poet.




~ by reverendhellfire on August 9, 2015.

4 Responses to “THE HUMAN AQUARIUM”

  1. Reblogged this on hocuspocus13 and commented:

  2. I find your writing to be rather intriguing; Intriguing enough in fact that I scrolled to the top of the page in search of the follow button. Then tapped it.

    • Eek another follower! Seriously, we aim to amuse, and perhaps inform, with the the latest in Info-tainment.
      Hope you enjoy the ride. Comments and dialogue always welcome.

  3. […] […]

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