Yesterday, a shady “gangland serial killer” (their words, not mine) was murdered in a maximum-security prison near Melbourne.
The murder is big news around here. There seems to be an almost hysterical interest here in “underworld” (drugs, prostitution, organized crime, general assholery) activity. They make TV movies about it. Only problem is, because they’ve got such a small pool of actors to work with, they apparently have to poach actors from the primetime soaps. It’s got to be a little surreal to watch a guy – who, five days a week, can be seen sensitively mooning over some girl with perfect hair – knife someone in the back in a gritty crime drama.
Anyway, as Snoop would say, back to the lecture at hand. Newscasters camped out at the dead man’s father’s house, desperate for a sound bite. While a somber voiceover explained that the family was in mourning, news footage showed family members and friends entering the house bearing SEVERAL CASES OF BEER (Victoria Bitter, from the looks of it). Naturally.
The newscaster reporting the story then announced that the prison was taking extra measures with its maximum-security inmates, including giving them individual exercise sessions with their own personal guards. Although these measures seemed a bit extreme, the reporter remarked (with an admirably straight face), “there have been no murders today, so that’s something.”
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