Sorry I'm Late, I Was Stuck In Love

By Darryl Mason

For some, the effects of university cannabis experimentation lingers on, many years later, layering thinking with gooey slices of interesting weirdness. Observe unelected NSW premier Nathan Rees, with that itchy eye problem :

"Congestion is a concern for all Sydneysiders," he said.

"If you think you are in traffic, you are in traffic...It's like being in love. If you think you are in love, you are in love. If you think you are in traffic, you are in traffic."

What if you don't just think but know, really know, you're in traffic because you're surrounded by cars and trucks and buses and nobody is moving forward and it was exactly the same yesterday and will be the same tomorrow and you've just calculated you've blown about 1000 solid hours, 40 full days and nights, you will never get back sitting in the same heavy traffic every work day for the past three fucking years and you start thinking 'Fuck this shit, if all these cars don't fuck off and let me go faster than 2.6kmh I'm going to lose it, I mean I'm gonna completely lose my shit'.?

What then?

Don't think traffic. Think love.

Put it on a t-shirt, Mr Rees, and walk along the shoulder of a jam-packed motorway. Field test this Spinoza-esque concept of yours. Dare you. But please wear a helmet.

Some NSW premiers didn't have to deal with city traffic at all, not in the way mere workers do. A speeding, sirening ambulance was a much faster way to get from one side of the city to the other, if you were a premier in a hurry.

That's not a state secret or something. Is it?

Yeah, probably just one of those rumours...