Miley Cyrus and the Commuter Tide

Miley Cyrus is touring Australia this month generating immense amounts of excitement among the sort of people who are relatively easy to excite.  As you might have guessed I am not included in their number.  Not that I have anything particular against Miley Cyrus.  It's just that if I want to see a semi naked, drug addled twenty one year old dry humping a dwarf there are websites I can go to which won't charge me a hundred dollars for a ticket, and that's even accounting for the fact that my bank account will be cleaned out the by Belorussian cyber criminals who run these sites.

But in honour of Miley's presence on our shores I have produced a blog entry entitled "Miley Cyrus and the Commuter Tide".  Which, I have to admit, sounds rather like the title of a children's detective story.  How would that go I wonder?

"Late one night while twerking on a fire hydrant outside a homeless shelter Miley Cyrus witnesses a robbery.  Hurling herself from the fire hydrant she grapples with one of thieves, wrapping her arms and legs around him and wrestling him to the ground until the police arrive.  Later, after having posted bail on the aggravated sexual assault charges she decides to take up the case..."

OK, it has to be admitted that I'm possibly the most horrifying children's author since Chopper Reid.  Still the above teaser leaves several questions tantalisingly unanswered.  What were the robbers after?  Did Miley have to enjoy the cavity search at the police station quite so much?  And what is the menace of the Commuter Tide?

Well, children's author or no I can at least answer the last of these questions.  The commuter tide is a grim social phenomenon that can be witnessed around 6pm weekdays at most suburban railway stations.  A slow moving but grimly determined mob of commuters flow up the stairs of the railway station on the last leg of their daily migration back to their homes.  Pity the hapless individual standing at the top of those stairs hoping desperately to catch the train that has just pulled in.  He has no chance the poor fool for the tide will not be stopped.  Should our would-be traveller risk the stairs his fate is sealed.

There is no urgency in the commuter tide's attack, no quicksilver flash of tooth or claw, just a relentless, unstoppable engulfing.  For the victim it must be like being drowned in porridge.  Two, three perhaps as many as half a dozen steps down towards the platform can be achieved but the end is never in doubt.  The train will leave without the hopeful passenger of whom no trace can now be discerned.  The commuter tide flows onward, not even caring to rejoice in its victory, a slow upward moving mass purposeful, unstoppable.

Hmm, I think Miley is going to need reinforcements.