Читать книгу War/Peace - Matthew Vandenberg - Страница 14

It’s a Bondi Beach house.

It’s large, luxurious, spacious, and has a communal bedroom. The windows overlook the sea, but only this wide expanse of blue, as shiny and reflective as the whites of eyes. Seagulls dot the wet, salty scenery like salt might a piece of battered fish. Inside the house are 250 video cameras, strategically positioned so that every movement of every person every night and every day will be captured, seized if you will, and this footage streamed live on line so that anyone, anywhere can view it. Big brother has no name: he could be anyone who logs onto the site – even you. Those inside the house live under the reign of the general public. The rules they must follow are prescribed by the public.

‘Know what I love about being here?’ Kurt says. ‘No checkin’ into Centrelink, yeah? I’m sick and tired of having to keep these guys posted on what I do, how I’m living . . .’

‘Dude, you’re in the wrong house,’ I say, smiling. ‘You’re keeping the whole world posted now. Every step you take, every move you make, it’s all gonna be on film.’

‘Oh well.’

‘Know what I love about walking into a Centrelink office?’ I say, standing up. It’s stand-up time for sure. ‘You can check all your dignity at the door. Totally sweet. You could be a successful businessman but this is the joint where you play the fool. You wanna act as hopeless as you can so that you’ll keep getting paid. It’s like – you don’t wanna say too much, just “yeah”, “I guess”, “sure”. You could walk into the fuckin’ office with a hand down your pants and the people will just shrug and be thinking: “that’s why he ain’t got no job. Guess we’ll be needin’ to set aside a whole heap of cash for this guy.” It’s the only’ – I raise my hands and wiggle two fingers on each to make inverted commas of skin – ‘job where you walk into the office with the hope of being fired yet again. The pressure’s totally off. Not that I respond badly to pressure anyway, but it’s nice to have somewhere to go where you can just act like you’re a yob, where it’s good to act like a yob. Coz we all wanna act like a yob every now and then right?’

‘Should you be saying this?’ Chloe asks. ‘Guys from Centrelink are bound to be watching.’

‘So you don’t know who I am, do you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I make over 500 a night most nights. I don’t need Centrelink payments, I’m a nightwalker. Name’s Jackson Curtis, nice to meet you.’

******

References

1 Let Me Entertain You – Robbie Williams