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There's Something About Midgets

Mdgets

Article by Rob Andrews
independent
There's just something very likeable about Midgets. Now, I know that 'Midgets' isn't politically correct and that they prefer to be called dwarves or 'little people' but please excuse me if I stick to the term 'Midgets'. I don't use the term in a derogatory way as I have a profound and lasting respect for Midgets, (note the use of a capital letter). It's just that I can't credit anyone as a dwarf unless they're wielding an axe somewhere in Middle Earth and 'little people' is just a mouthful, which is ironic as a Midget sporting a mouthful sized 'little person' would probably keel over.

Quite apart from the fact that most Midgets can kick themselves in the head, these people are entertaining doing the most mundane things. I challenge anyone to think of something they can do that a midget couldn't and make you smile at the same time. Ironing clothes a little boring? A Midget can make it awesome. Want more people to watch Question Time? Replace the politicians with Midgets. See what I mean?

So it was with great joy that I read an article in my morning paper last week that briefly covered the Midget Olympics, (actually they used 'dwarf' but we've covered my objections to that word). This outstanding, astounding spectacle includes a range of events such as foot races and a variety of sports. Some obvious events were unfortunately and, at least to my mind, mysteriously left out. I wrote a list and sent them to the organisers but, alas, I have received no reply as yet. The organisers did not, apparently, agree that equestrian on Shetland Ponies was a good idea, nor did they agree to host a tricycle race around a major city. Not even my suggestion that the 100m sprint by renamed to the 100m mosey gained traction. Some people are allergic to money.

It was my ultimate desire to travel to the Midget Olympics in Michigan and attend the opening ceremony dressed as Willie Wonka but the birth of my second born and the look on my wife's face stood in the way of that dream.

  On second thought, I'd rather not dress as Willie Wonka. That man should be imprisoned for a very long time. In fact, the whole story of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory reeks of snozberries, (or penises as one urban myth would have us believe was Dahl's intention, a myth I'm aching to believe). Wonka's crimes are many and include slavery, animal cruelty, violations of health and hygiene regulations, wantonly endangering staff and guests, vandalism and destruction of property. Charlie himself is no saint, using stolen money to purchase the chocolate bar that resulted in his golden ticket win.

Charlie, however, is not entirely to blame for his actions. His mentor, one Grandpa Joe, was himself an arrogant and selfish man. Confined to his bed for years on end while Charlie's dad worked a menial job for bugger all money, our mate Joe suddenly finds the strength to dance in circles when Charlie brings home the much coveted prize. Never mind dad, who has just been laid off or mum who spends all her time laundering and cooking for the geriatric swingers party that has been dominating her lounge room for God knows how long. Never mind also the fact that of all the poverty stricken residents of that hovel, Grandpa Joe is the only one to have already seen the inside of Wonka's factory. Nevertheless, the malingering scumbag is given leave to attend. When he returns, he does so inside Wonka's elevator, smashing through the roof. True to form, good old Joe ignores the damage, leaving Dad to fix it. If anyone ever asks you for one valid reason for euthanasia, you can't give a better answer than 'Grandpa Joe'.


The only redeeming feature of the book was that it turned into a movie, which gave dozens of Midgets a job in film, at least in the first one. In the second version of the film only Deep Roy gets a run. Not that I have anything against Deep Roy, he is a brilliant character actor and I still occasionally try to mount the odd snail hoping it will race me around the block thanks to his work in the Never Ending Story. Work for Midgets in the entertainment industry must be difficult to come by, which is why I was surprised when I tried to hire a few of them for the purpose of a school formal.

One of my charges wanted a brilliant and inventive entrance to his school formal. Naturally, he came to me for inspiration. I suggested that he make a sleigh with wheels, (no snow in Australia), and have it pulled by a team of eight Midgets. It turns out though that Midgets are incredibly expensive to hire and getting them drunk enough to agree to pull a sleigh is 'exploitation'. You'd think they'd be half price.

We can't as a community allow political correctness to overcome common sense. I recently read an example of this happening in the United States, where some states are planning to ban the age old custom of Midget tossing. For the uninitiated, this involves drunken men hurling a Midget towards a designated target. Sometimes the Midget is wearing Velcro, sometimes not. Sometimes there isn't a target, although throwing a Midget in the parking lot while sober is just straight up assault. There is probably a moral grey area somewhere here but if the adult Midget consents to each throw or to a series of throws, my advice would be to stretch and to aim high.


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