It was once written of the great outlaw journalist, Dr Hunter S. Thompson, that he inspired "the same kind of admiration one would feel for a streaker at Queen Victoria's funeral".
Doctor Thompson would not be inspired by the funeral pyre for our precious freedoms currently burning bright in the state of Victoria.
![When governments start banning moons there is a bigger right at issue.](/web/20160926221644im_/http://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/content/dam/images/g/i/q/0/e/z/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.grp1oi.png/1474896162900.jpg)
The punishers and straighteners of the most southern of all the southern barbarian lands have this week placed upon their poor, benighted citizens the heavy hand of law, where once they felt only the cool kiss of freedom's gently puckered lips.
I speak of the unspeakable anti-mooning laws. Those pale, sunken-chested Vics now face the prospect of a stretch held inside at Her Majesty's pleasure for indulging themselves in the simple pleasure we barrel-chested fecund Queensland folk take for granted; our inalienable right to drop pants and give Her Maj a piece of our minds.
I speak of mooning, of lowering strides, of the great unblinking brown eye. That is what has made us the greatest state in this great big brown wide land of ours – our willingness to bare cheeks and open wide the crack of doom at any and all who would challenge our right to do so.
This unconscionable un-Australian assault on that most basic freedom cannot stand and I believe it will sort out the real patriots from the unctuous podsnappers. Yes I'm looking at you George Christensen, and I'm wondering whether we're going to get to see the truth written on your arse or whether all your talk of defending traditional Aussie values is just so much mutton-shunting.
I do not claim to have bared my back end at those who have offended me. Lo, I cry it from the highest towers, just before unbuckling and turning the unblinking eye of Sauron upon my enemies.
I call on the Premier to assure Queenslanders that we will never suffer the indignities of our weaker, more simple minded southern cousins, who responded to this attack not with battle ranks drawn up, pants dropped down and butt cheeks clenched in angry defiance, but with a couple of snarky tweets.
Join me, Madam Premier, on the banks of the mighty Tweed, and together we will show these southern johnnies what real freedom looks like.
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