I'm a condemned man. Five minutes ago, I suddenly went down with a terrible affliction: a deadly virus that I picked up by browsing through an article in one of Australia's top-class daily newspapers.
I'm a victim of bullshit rage, known among specialists as BOS: the bullshit overload syndrome. Warning: Before reading any further, I advise you to put on a hygienic mask, protective goggles (I almost wrote "googles") and maybe rubber gloves (unless they prevent you from using your computer, which would be a pity).
Fortunately, I was able to identify the source of my infection. Believe it or not, I got it from a god, who is one of Australia’s best-known people-management thinkers. Just imagine it: thinking about managing people (as distinct from money, monkeys, computer memory, time, etc). Jeez, those must be exciting thoughts! I would imagine it's as good as sex, if not more invigorating, and dangerously daring. But identifying the guy (sorry, the god) who poisoned me with this virus is unlikely to be of much help, because I have the sensation that I'm already suffocating from the deadly fumes of Aussie bullshit. So, as a last resort, I intend to pray night and day to Adorable Mary, Saint of the Southern Cross. I'm sure she won't let me down… unless, of course, she's also a victim of BOS, as a consequence of all the recent bullshit surrounding her in the Aussie media.