World Youth Day @ Randwick, Sydney
Analysis

I spent just over two weeks in Sydney, working at Randwick Racecourse, setting up for Benny?s Visit at World Youth Day. Living in the Cross, seeing the finer specimens of New South?s population, the Catholic whitewash spread across all things living, it really got me motivated for the event and its aftermath. I had the honour and prestige of being on standby during the Final Mass, Sunday 20^th July 2008. Let me reflect.  

- Overzealous
After attempting to enter from Gate (x) and getting told by police to ?move along? with ?no arguments?, despite work passes and previous history at the track, my clique moved through Gate (y) with no interference. Of course, within the 5-6 strong crew, I was carrying a small, 30x10cm black bag and was the first through the gate. Was I strip searched and made naked, in the hunt for terrorist weapons? No. But the city of Sydney has gone the extra mile to get rid of 98% of garbage bins within its walls to avoid the chance of bomb planting.

Common Sense: 1
Sydney: 0

- Weaksauce
400,000 camping/attending pilgrims braved the cold and frost to attend the final Mass. I felt safe knowing a good portion of the local cops were sat in chairs, wrapped in thermal blankets for most of the morning too. All hands on deck.

- Right to be Assholes
Arrogance Rudeness Smugness Cockheads were in the air, that?s for damn sure. Forget the snubbing or glaring, what made my day were the inspiring words of a woman, with family in tow, who decided to give me these uplifting words:

Bitch:    ?Excuse me, where?s Section F??
D:         ?I?m sorry, I don?t know.?
Bitch:    ?Well then you?re just useless aren?t you?!?
D:         ?Sorry??
Bitch:    ?What do you have a jacket on for if you don?t know where anything is? You?re just useless then.?
D:         *looking down at his hi-vis duds* ?I?m sorry but I?m not a volunteer here, I?m here to work on ______, ask someone with an orange jacket, they?ll be able to help you.?
Bitch:    Forget it, just forget it.

One of the nicer indicidents. Incidently, I went and got a fucking answer from someone and hunted this bitch down to give her the information she wanted, to which I got an ?I don?t give a damn, I don?t care? response. For fuck?s sake.

A Hi-Vis Jacket Translates to 'Accountable'

?- Questionable Garbage
No, not the Catholic rhetoric. I?m talking about the actual trash left behind by pilgrims. Ten points to anyone who can guess the common objects found amongst the litter, reminding you all the track was spotless in the lead up to the event. Give up? Try connie wrappers and deal bags. Yeah, who knew.

Connie Wrappers and Deal Bags:
Essential in Your Official World Youth Day Survival Packs

Also, who made up the crack squad of savvy personnel, instilled by the City of Randwick/Council of Penrith, to clean up and clear out the trash? Afghani students, working for $10 p/h, black money. Well done.

?- Inspired
Besides the game of noughts and crosses using duct tape, seeing Benny zing by in his Popemobile was definitely a touching moment for me. Pilgrims crying, keeling over, reaching for the stars, reciting bible verses. It moved me, but not nearly as much as the fist-pumping, hi-fiving commanding soundtrack of ?Kenny Loggins ? Danger Zone? did when it pumped through the headphones of my iPoor. Spontanious tears all round.

All in all, my time in Sydney was memorable, if not enjoyable. The Cross could be burnt to the ground, inhabitants and all, and no one would miss a beat. $3 schooners, drunk riff-raff, pub meals, commission flat hotels. Was a pleasure.

The Catholics are on a winner, with the idea of moving the point of pilgrimage every few years. By variating the location, reaching the biggest target audience, achieving maximum hype, you?re most certainly going to pull the largest crowds and cash targets. And of course, the plebs and glorified carnies, right in the shit of things, were definitely taken care of.

Burn it all.