Just when you thought it was safe to venture past your letterbox after the rampant renegade wombats wave of '97, something has once again ruffled the feathers of the adorably quaint hamlet of Crookwell. Not just ruffled, friends - but lieu of a more refined word - completely hecking exploded them! This time though, it's not our fury burrow-dwelling compatriots running amok. Instead, we find ourselves entwined in an audaciously colorful vortex of scandal, controversy, and the odd outraged cockatoo. Enter our hero - or villain, depending on what side of the fence (and we're being VERY literal here) you're on - Barry 'Blue-Streak' Thompson. A ruggedly daring bloke well known amongst the Crookwell crust, Thompson's soul-tearing, witching hour tirades against the local council, rabid parakeets, and the dwindling supply of vegemite in the local pub, have earned him a spot in the small town’s hall of bleary-eyed fame. Thompson, a retired crocodile wrestler and part-time koala whisperer, thought to add 'political commentator' to his repertoire. He took to the airwaves of Crookwell Community Radio 2GCW last Wednesday, delivering a tirade against the "dingo's breakfast," that, according to him, was the current state of affairs in the town. "The lot of 'em are flamin' galahs," raged Thompson, alluding to the council’s decision to replace the iconic 'Emu Crossing' sign with a more "global-friendly" sign featuring a nondescript pigeon. "Might as well replace our kangaroo pies with pigeon droppings," he scoffed, making a valid point about culinary authenticity, amid the cultural crisis. Ever admonishingly, Thompson did not spare the topic of declining vegemite reserves either, considering this a sure sign of the impending apocalypse. “First, they take away our vermilion emu, now our precious, midnight-black spread of national pride is under threat! I tell ya, mates, we're one step away from trading our thongs for those flashy loafers,” he lamented, painting a frighteningly vivid image of Crookwell's potential future. However, his fiercest invective was reserved magically for the "rampaging rainbow-colored parakeets" terrorizing local farmlands. The birds, led by a strikingly flamboyant leader aptly named ‘Fruitloop’, deserves its own technicolored novella, with tales of stolen toupees, strategic droppings on clean washing, and unauthorized occupation of homely birdcages. In the wake of his vibrant vocal volleys, it seems Thompson may have his finger on the pulse (or perhaps the jugular) of Crookwell's deepest concerns. Or, not. His rants have definitely succeeded in entertaining the locals, shaking the echo of monotony off the town, and perhaps even upsetting a few pigeons. So, let's hear it for our Blue-Streak Barry! Providing a voice to the voiceless (except for Fruitloop and his crew) and making sure the world knows that in Crookwell, you can take the emu out of the crossing, but you'll never replace our vegemite-laden, thong-wearing hearts.