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On
an urban street flanked by alfresco cafes and restaurants, young
men in elaborately adorned cars repeat a circuit at low speeds,
their sound systems blasting out popular tunes.
As
always on a Friday or Saturday night, pedestrians and diners in
the street comprise a huge crowd of spectators to this familiar
ritual. One such car gradually begins to stand out from the rest,
appearing more lavishly modified and accessorised every lap, eventually
to the point of ridiculousness. Bubbles blow from the exhaust, filling
the street, a puppet dog barks at pedestrians from the window of
the car.
Bog
Lap will be testosterone charged, fuel injected theatre out
of its traditional context and in the public’s face. It will be
unparalleled in its cultural relevance, uniquely Australian, and
hysterically funny
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