Tassie, Tas, the Apple Isle, home of Looney Tune’s Taz Devil, and the most elegant description of the lot (sarcasm spilt heavily): if the Australian mainland roughly speaking looks like a bum from behind, then Tasmania is the resulting little poo. Charming, I know.
Yes, we have a population a tenth of the size of Singapore while inhabiting an island that is actually ten times the size of Singapore, the Basslink Cable that connects the state with the national energy grid has been shot since December last year, we log records for having the lowest national income, highest national unemployment rate, and various other depressing economic statistics, and yes ,historically Tasmania was the personal dumping ground of the British empire in the 1800s, being the penal colony where people were banished to for stealing silk handkerchiefs and loaves of bread.
But we’re not all inbred convict descendants with two heads, lacking literacy and numeracy skills. Some of the people who make up our population are pretty funky.
My two best Japanese teachers at high school and college are of Hungarian origin; one of them worked for ASIO.
My most ‘Australian’ friend is a lawyer, could verbally be a ringer for Barney Stinson, and is of Cambodian extraction.
My husband is a British descended South African and does a killer baby tiger impression.
One of my best friends is of Jewish heritage, is part of a Lion Dance troupe and speaks more mandarin than I do.
Then we get people like Masaaki Koyama who are skilful individuals in their field with unlikely (but very cool) hobbies.
I don’t mean to sound nationalistic or patriotic. Variety exists everywhere, along with beer, another Kardashian beauty product, and someone calling for Ramsay Bolton’s death (oh wait, that actually happened – spoiler alert!)
Oh, and did I mention the next queen consort of Denmark is Tasmanian by birth? Yes, we will continue to claim that one, like, forever.