This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
My dearest wife,
I write to you bathed in the glow of the battlefield. Fighting has been intense and unrelenting. The enemy are well-equipped and armed with the latest technology and endless supply lines. But fear not, my darling. They will never win. Not on my watch.
Please remain at your mother's place. I'll let you know when this year's neighbourhood Christmas Lights war has ended and it is safe to return. Right now the carnage has left our entire block ablaze. The house-to-house combat is the ugliest I've seen.
Remember that shy guy who moved into number 29 across the road? Turns out he's a heavily armed professional lighting designer. He flicked the switch at 9pm and flooded his front lawn with a series of LED Rope Lights with automatic eight-function animation, 18-metre strings of flashing icicle LEDs, dozens of connectable clusters of warm white bulbs and a herd of self-inflating reindeers.
But he was just getting started. He choreographed the entire scene with a synchronised display set to Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. I was shell-shocked. Still, you know how cool I am under pressure. I waited until he began grinning triumphantly on his nature strip. That's when I pressed the button and lit up our front yard. The ashen look on his face was priceless.
"You want some of this pal?" I yelled at him. "Meet my Smart 12-metre Outdoor Christmas Tree™ with wi-fi, built-in Bluetooth capability, a miniature microwave warming small Christmas puddings as we speak and an endlessly repeating hologram of Mariah Carey singing All I Want For Christmas is You!"
He stalked red-faced back into his house.
I was just warming up. Two doors down, Mrs Jones had installed a dozen inflatable Santas on her porch that were wheezing as heavily as her two-packets-a-day husband. I put them out of their misery with my dart gun. The old hag surprised with a daring counterattack - a laser light show covering her house in swirling patterns of bright reds and greens.
Bloody mesmerising, I had to admit. Which is why I always carry that sharp blade with an insulated handle. I left her extension cord in pieces and kept going.
I had intel on the young hippy couple who live in that hopelessly dilapidated house four doors down - you know that joint that always wins "Best Neighbourhood Halloween Display" without requiring a single decoration?
My surveillance drones relayed vision of a real Christmas tree being installed in their living room. Neighbours were gushing about the authentic pine odours and praising their "All our lights are solar-powered" and "No plastic in this house" signs. Typical bragging greenies.
What's my main rule of war? Never retreat. Escalate. I went on the dark web and purchased the greatest indoor Christmas tree Australia boasts - a genuine Wollemi Pine, one of the world's oldest and rarest trees. DNA tests show a thylacine cocked its leg on it 35,000 years ago.
Only took a few hours to remove the roof and install that 40-metre-high monster with a building crane and a borrowed Chinook helicopter. Don't worry. How often does it rain over Christmas anyway?
Must admit it was hard sleeping above the screams of neighbours when they discovered I'd hacked their doorbells to play Barry Manilow ballads.
At midnight a militia of "concerned citizens" knocked on the door demanding I turn off my Pattern Led Laser 48XL-73 Nighttime Sky Projector, claiming it had caused power outages on the east coast and punched several new holes in the ozone layer. I was willing to negotiate but they made a strategic retreat after realising our holly wreath includes branches of the strychnine tree.
I must go now, darling. These bandoliers of backup light bulbs criss-crossing my chest need recharging and I'm hearing of an insurgency at the local scout hall where a petition is being raised calling for all Christmas neighbourhood lights to be replaced by candles and other "environmentally-friendly" items.
Can you believe it? These scrooges say our street at night looks like a seedy strip of pizza joints and massage parlours. What the hell happened to their Christmas spirit? Well, baby, we're still the biggest and the brightest, the most lustrous and luminescent.
And we'll stay true to what Plato observed as he lit up his Athens front yard in 403BC: "We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."
Your loving husband at the battlefront,
Garry
HAVE YOUR SAY: Are you a combatant in the Christmas Lights wars in your neighbourhood? Do you prefer a real tree over a fake one? Or do you avoid Christmas decorations completely? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
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IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- After spending more than two decades in jail over the deaths of her four children before being pardoned and freed, Kathleen Folbigg has now been acquitted. The NSW Court of Criminal Appeal quashed her convictions before applause filled the court.
- Peter Dutton has pipped a former prime minister with a predilection for secret titles and a mining magnate with a passion for the Titanic to take out the title of Australia's least trusted politician. The federal Opposition Leader heads pollster Roy Morgan's 2023 distrust list, beating out Scott Morrison for the dubious honour despite Mr Morrison secretly appointing himself to five ministerial positions.
- Australia's jobless rate rose to 3.9 per cent in November, from an upwardly revised 3.8 per cent in October. Roughly 61,000 jobs were added to the economy in the month, Australian Bureau of Statistics figures show, which was well above a 10,600 lift pencilled in by forecasters.
THEY SAID IT: "Christmas is not tinsel and lights. The secret lies in an inner glow. It's lighting a fire inside the heart." - Wilferd Peterson
YOU SAID IT: As our cities grow upwards, attention is turning to golf courses and whether they can be repurposed to better serve the communities in whose midst they sit.
Concerned senior citizen Mark writes: "Golf, and the 19th hole, so called in reference to the watering hole which serves up endless cold beers. This again reinforces the antisocial nature of this mind-numbing elitist activity. Not for the working class, only the wealthy need apply for membership here, thank you very much. Hopefully AI will be able to create for the self-entitled, arrogant and fake personalities that can't help but boast of their ever 'so costly' club, a more human pathway for fulfillment of one's true needs in this short life. Put simply; I applaud your recognition of the hidden nuisance these ridiculous symbols of egotism and endless materialism have had, which remain an insidious reminder of capitalism gone off the rails."
"This story was quite the read," writes Tyler. "It was clearly written by someone looking through a warped lense. Studies have shown that golf courses in urban environments in larger cities like Melbourne or Sydney for example create far more oxygen than the trees in such an area. In essence they are a healthy parkland, used for a specific purpose which happens to be one of the world's most popular and inclusive games where kids and the elderly can play together. Name another sport as inclusive as golf. And it was not long ago we were spraying more harmful chemicals in our neighborhoods. They go through a rigorous testing before being able to be marketed. And as far as water, it's a very common trend now that courses use effluent water to irrigate. So before jumping on the golf courses are not good for anything wagon, look at it from the side of the older lady who's exercise and social activity is playing with her gals on a Wednesday."
Mike writes: "How does it make any sense to close golf courses when surrounding parks sit empty and unused? There is another agenda here."
"Oh boy. Bet you've opened a can of worms here, John," writes Joan. "My golf course is a public space. Dogs and walkers use it regularly, but the signs do warn that you are entering public land at your own risk. A mere 14 years ago most of the 18 holes was surrounded by open fields. Now it's completely surrounded by housing estates, giving a highly desired outlook for residents lucky enough to get one. The clubhouse provides an entertainment venue for dining and weddings, even funerals. A golf club is so much more than a green paddock of torture where men and women try to get that little ball into a small hole with instruments ill adapted to the purpose (said someone else). And don't get me started on the employment of many in big clubs, to the volunteer work done at country sandgreen clubs. Some of the latter even have members 'adopt' a fairway and green to maintain in their own time with their own mowers!! And keep a lookout for echidnas while doing it! As I said, a can of worms, John. Keep it up. Love The Echidna."
Erik writes: "Had you mentioned underutilised school sports grounds, especially those at private schools, I might have been more convinced. And there are a lot of other facilities that use water, fertilisers and pesticides, including places like Centennial Park. The issue with this is the poor planning that governments have allowed to happen without thought for the consequences. Having said that, there are golf courses which make big efforts to become part of the local community. Marrickville is one and should be an exemplar for others. Two final points: Green Square is a 40-minute walk from Moore Park so it is hardly local and any development of Moore Park will not serve those at Green Square. Second: dragging Trump into this is a very clear example of poor debating technique - irrelevant to your main point albeit salacious."
"Spot on yet again," writes long-time Echidna enthusiast Trevor. "I commend to your attention the podcast episode A Good Walk Spoiled from Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History of June 15, 2017. It will well repay the 35-minute listening time."
Alan from Burrill Lake writes: "Oh, Echidna! Brave man. Walking on very thin ice there, or should I say hallowed turf. Glad you said it, not me! Though I couldn't agree more! But with the increase of superannuated retirees thrown into the mix I'm afraid you, and Minns, are facing a very steep uphill battle. You will need your 7 iron at least to clear it. Good luck with that and keep your head down! Fore!"
"All golf courses should be converted into low-cost housing estates," writes Kersi.
Jennifer writes: "Let them have their golf but put the courses way at the outer edge of cities, or in the countryside, keeping city land for the majority of people to enjoy in public parks and housing. Those without cars need nature spaces and exercise that are accessible, close to transport and other infrastructure, whilst the golfers do not. They create their own infrastructure exclusive to them. Ever seen a golfer with his/her golf cart on the bus or train? The golfers drive to their golf courses anyway, so they can go a bit further out for their elite sports, where they won't be bothered by the rest of the rabble."
Garry Linnell is one of Australia’s most experienced journalists. He has won several awards for his writing, including a Walkley for best feature writing. He writes a weekly column for ACM and the Echidna.
Garry Linnell is one of Australia’s most experienced journalists. He has won several awards for his writing, including a Walkley for best feature writing. He writes a weekly column for ACM and the Echidna.
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