Case 1: The Lego files
Anna lives in this crazy sharehouse in Darlinghurst. One morning she and her housemates awoke to find the entire front yard full of lego figurines. Little lego dudes battling each other, climbing on plants in the garden, even transformers were hidden to drop from the ceiling when the garage door was opened. Hours later, silently as they arrived, the toys disappeared. The next day there was a procession of lego men coming up the path. Anna and her housemates took one as ransom and left a note. A kind of toy cold war has ensued as they attempt to ascertain the identity of the lego guerilla. The offender works fast and stealthily, planning attacks to coincide with times when no one is home. This suggests inside knowledge…. I will report back as more clues emerge.
Case 2: The guerilla knitters
There are bike racks outside Redfern Park, near my work, and Anna pointed out to me that overnight some of them started sporting knitted covers. Rack cosies? At any rate, these ground-breaking accessories are almost perfectly fitted. Some are stripey, some are chunky knits full of dropped stitches, and others are more fastidious. What kills me is that someone has had to sit there and handsew the seam to keep them on the racks. Who does this? What inspired them to warm the racks bike-lovers hold so dear?
In the spirit of random acts of randomness, here’s another. The Matchbox Project.