When Kony 2012 was the topic of the week in March, one of The Punch Team said something cynical about the campaign at a party. Yeah, nice sentiment. Unlikely to spur an arrest in the African wilderness in the next week, though.
Silence descended across the conversation. “Oh yeah. Well… I bought the action pack.” (Jerk.)
That Puncher wasn’t alone in their cyncism. Plenty of commentators carped that the campaign to bring African warlord Joseph Kony to justice within the year wouldn’t achieve results. But if there was one thing that drew out the critics of the campaign (other than the campaign’s chief running around San Francisco naked) - it was the ginormous merchandise-a-thon that accompanied it.
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A good mate of mine is a humble bloke who goes about doing good works without fanfare.
He once worked in the Aboriginal studies department of a top Australian university. While he’s someone who rarely has a bad word to say about anyone, he had some choice ones about his (all white) former colleagues when we recently had a chat about the hypocrisy of eco-yuppies.
He reckons the people he worked with were some of the most pompous, self-satisfied bunch of wankers he’d ever come across. It was as if working in an area that was perceived to be ideologically correct gave them a free pass to behave however they wanted.
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