The good ideas keep coming, don’t they?

This pandemic, through sheer necessity, is really stirring the communal grey matter.

Invention, ingenuity, creativity – it’s ubiquitous. Some of it’s building a platform for future commercial opportunity, others just keeping us amused in times of tedium and isolation. The phantom “Coronavirus Handicap” race call – have you encountered that one? Classic.

I had one “idea” float by me the other day that I thought was worth a little further exploration. It came from my old mate Banksy, which in the context of his neurological make-up, isn’t that surprising.

Banksy has always been an out-of-the-box thinker, rarely restricted by the boundaries of convention, even at times, good taste.

By way of example, I was recently talking to him about funerals. When it’s his turn to go, he says there’ll be no heavy, cumbersome wooden box. He wants his body packed away in his oversized cricket kit. A lot more comfortable, particularly with a couple of batting pads tucked under your head. And of course, so much easier to transport the body in and out of the church. Just your best mate on the front of the kit bag, the little wheels on the back left to do the rest.

Then when all is said and done, swivel it around, and drag the kit bag right back out the door.

One bloke, if need be, could even bounce it down the steps of the church by himself. How good? As Banksy points out, it’s not like there’s going to be any complaint lodged about the rough trip.

But back to the pandemic.

What Banksy is advocating is “the bifurcation of our military services”, although that’s not what he said. That description is just to make the idea sound fancy, perhaps help sell it to the Government.

The way Banksy put it, “Mate – we need two armies”.

In his eyes, it’s this simple. The first army is the “I want to kill” army.  The really heavy-duty one, the “going off to war and fighting to protect the borders of the country” army. Like we’ve got now. Invaluable but very specialised, and regrettably, busy.

His second, very seperate force would be the “it’s my job to help however” army. The role of this regiment would be to pitch in wherever was required –  floods, bushfires, droughts, pandemics. Whatever emergency required direct and specialist intervention.

He reckons we recruit the people who are currently unemployed, and as part of their fortnightly government payment, they get trained up to deal with a whole range of emergencies – learn new and practical skills.

The kids in detention centres – same with them. Instead of shoving them in an environment where they learn how to become more accomplished criminals, out they go, at least some of them – enlist them in the “People’s Army.”

The prison farmers – same. Their rehabilitation involves skilling themselves up to contribute meaningfully to all sorts of emergency situations. And not only will they be benefitting society, they’d most likely be developing a whole new sense of purpose. Even enjoying themselves, by learning what it feels like to be appreciated – even lauded.

“I heard the Premier during the week prattling on about a Care Army,” Banksy said. “Caring is not our job during a pandemic. Our job is to say put. But if we had an army of specialist helpers, properly trained and ready to go?

“It’s not like there won’t be another disaster in Australia. The way we’re going in 2020, we’ll cop another one of some sort in September. We need to be ready.”

So there you have it. Banksy’s “bifurcation of military services”, headlined by the establishment of a full time “People’s Army”.

If you think it’s got some merit, I’m pleased to say Banksy and I have been bouncing it around on and off for years.

If you think it’s absolute rubbish, well let’s face it, Banksy’s always had a wobbly wheel or two on his cricket kit …