Sunday, April 22, 2018


Image result for ingrid carlqvist
"Jews Commit White Genocide as a Hiding Mechanism"

Can the deadly threat to our race be put any plainer than that?

This was the banner of a recent post on the American website, National Vanguard, which does a truly amazing job disseminating important information to white nationalists world-wide.

The gripping lead is an introduction to a recently videoed interview with a dynamic Swedish journalist with bloodhound instincts, Ingrid Carlqvist on Red Ice TV.

 In recent weeks Carlqvist has gotten herself into strife with Swedish Chosenites and their useful idiots over a speech she gave promoting her soon to be released book, From Sweden to Absurdistan. Her current ordeal of pitchforks and fiery torches resulted from her committing the ultimate faux pas of connecting the multicultural catastrophe that has overcome Sweden with a Jewish propulsion system. This of course is something one simply does not do in polite society.

Ingrid's natural curiosity preceded the situation in which she finds herself. She simply wanted to find out how Sweden, a land of archetypically tall, blue eyed blondes being the epitome of racial, cultural and religious homogeneity, could, in a relatively short time, become a crime-plagued dystopia.

Her research led her back to October '64 and an editorial written for Dagen Nyheter, Sweden's largest morning newpaper, by one David Schwartz, a Jew who had spent time in German concentration camps during WW2 where he'd contracted tuberculosis.  After initially being treated in Germany after the war's end and then being treated in an Italian sanatorium until it closed in 1950, he'd gone to live in Sweden. Of course, even with the Holohoax discounted, the experience for Jews in Germany had been their worst nightmare. The chickens had come home to roost with a vengeance. It would no doubt have been traumatic. For a Jew, the perceived "tyranny of the majority" could have gotten no worse.

So, it should not surprise that the main thrust of Schwarz's editorial was that the majority, that is, the Swedes, must begin reducing that (potentially lethal) majority by offsetting itself with minorities (apart from the Jews who had been in but not of Sweden for centuries). He was of course calling for what would become known as multiculturalism. A fiendishly cunning move, one might concede. Instead of sticking out like the proverbial dog's testicles, Jews would be able to surround themselves with camouflage in the form of a variety of other ethnic minorities. An added bonus would be that the new minorities would be coming not from other parts of Europe - that would be naturally totally counterproductive - but from parts of the world axiomatically inferior to the west in which resided people so alien their integration would be an impossible mission. Because of this inability to integrate, the resentment of the newcomers would build into society-wrecking hatred. The the Jew could kick back and now say, "well if you think I'm bad for you, what about them!"  And of course it goes without saying that this is the exact same strategy that has been used in every country of the west that the Jew has decided to transform to one more to his liking.

Schwarz's suggestion didn't take immediately. Indeed, as Carlqvist observes, the very next year the Swedish prime minister was proudly lauding the untold benefits of Swedish homogeneity. However, a mere decade after Schwarz's acting as a signpost pointing in the direction Sweden must travel, the Swedish government was marching obediently in that very direction. How could this have happened? How could, in such a short period, such an important policy be turned 180 degrees? These were the questions that had obsessed Carlqvist.

It was while looking for answers to these perplexing mysteries that amid a pertinent discussion during a get-together with a friend, the friend happen to ask, "have you heard what Barbara Lerner Spectre has to say on the subject?"

"Who?" was Carlqvist's baffled reply. She, like most other Swedes, had never heard of Spectre who like many of her tribe preferred to operate in the shadows. She was soon to be enlightened. Spectre is an American Jewess who followed her rabbi husband to Sweden on his landing a job in a Stockholm synagogue in 2000. Being a modern woman, rather than be perceived as simply an appendage to her husband, she decided she also needed something to do. That something was the founding of Paideia, The European Institute for Jewish Studies in Sweden in 2001. This important sounding organisaton was made possible, according to its website by "grants" from the Swedish Government.

Image result for image of Barbara Spectre

Carlqvist tells an intriguing tale about these so-called grants came to be. Jews have, amongst other unique traits, a remarkable ability to smell an opportunity - even when one doesn't exist. In late 1996, Jewish organisations - this is after taking Swiss banks to the cleaners - accused the Riksbank, the Swedish Central Bank, of sitting on a hoard of looted Nazi gold, an amount pulled out of the air in similar fashion to the magical 6 million, which added up to about 180 tonnes. This obviously being a serious accusation, the Swedish Government promised to launch an investigation immediately. In fact several investigations were rigorously conducted. The Jews were then given the bad news: no evidence of any trace of looted Nazi gold had been uncovered.

Showing a distinct lack of what might be considered natural disappointment, the need for a change of tack was instead recognised by the world's most persistent free-loaders. They laid their cards on the table. Either the bank coughed up something - it need not be the aforementioned 180 tonnes, this being after all simply an ambit claim - or the World Jewish Conference would get on the global public address system and let it be known that the entire Swedish nation had been found to be Anti-Semitic. 

The bank of course buckled. Cheque or cash? Who wanted to become a Jewish version of the Antichrist? A cool 40 million Krona, or 4 million US dollars were quickly doled out. Naturally a proviso was added that the bank was in no way actually obliged to be making this payment; no, it was more of good-will gratuity. This was an extremely polite spin put on what it actually was - money extorted via the tried and trusted method of blackmail.

This was the "grants' made available with which Paideia was made possible. The organisation would be dedicated to Jewish studies, as if any additional reminding was needed in "oh vey, how we've suffered". And, oh yes, it had another string to its bow, at least another string it was prepared to let on about; it would be "educating for active minority citizenship". What did this mean once the smokescreen of obfuscation was blown away?

The meaning was made clear in the notorious video produced as a type of "in house" production made for the delectation of Israeli television viewers but, unfortunately for the master race, escaped t into the wider world, giving the game away completely. Frantic efforts were made to have it disappear from the internet but there was no putting this genie back in the bottle.

It's worth checking out if only for the demonstration of breathtakingly arrogant Jewish chutzpa. But please try and remember, a strong-willed suspension of disbelief is called for.

The purring voice of Spectre would be ideally suited to a matronly type addressing a charity-raising tea party. Strange how one is reminded of the song "Devil with a blue dress on".  Spectre laments the fact that Europe is dreadfully lagging in becoming multicultural. No problem. The Jews are going to step up, take its hand and lead it to its destiny. Has to be done. It's the only way of "saving" it. (Similar immortal words: "We had to destroy the village in order to save it.") Spectre notes in a spectacular understatement that these efforts probably won't be fully appreciated by Europeans. Moreover, Jews will even be resented for their efforts. Isn't that just the way? Whatever we do, we can't win! But Jews are above any bad feelings. They'll suffer, just like they always have. But being a truly noble people, they are prepared to make this sacrifice.

With David Schwarz driving in the first wedge and the despicable Spectre conducting a kind of a mopping up operation years later after Sweden has become transformed almost beyond recognition and is standing on the brink of oblivion, it is really not all that difficult to figure out who the people were who were so busily undermining Sweden in the intervening period.

During the same era, similar white-anting was happening elsewhere in the west. The rest of Europe was being transformed in the same way as Sweden. The 1965 Hart-Cellular Act - Cellular, one of the two congressmen who introduced the bill with Edward Kennedy's support, being of Jewish descent - turned long standing US immigration policy on its head. In Australia it was being decided that the so-called White Australia Policy that had prevented Australia from becoming a third world shit-hole was something evil and to be ashamed of.

Also during this period, the US was fanning fears of all South East Asia going communist, easily explained in the "domino theory". According to the theory, one by one the dominoes would all fall to the red scourge. Little did we realise that while we were being entranced by this set of dominoes, another set was falling - to the Jews.

Sunday, April 15, 2018



Image result for ww2 australian propaganda posters

Fact or fiction? Myth or desperate measure? For more than 75 years the "Brisbane Line" has been argued about, ridiculed, pooh poohed, said to be an excellent idea, said to be a stupid idea, said to have never happened, or if actually contemplated, the result of craven panic. Where is the truth in this long bubbling brew of charge and counter charge?

The popular conception of the Brisbane Line (the term in the WW2 context first coined by General MacArthur) that would be remembered bitterly by Labor Party voters for years to come was a hypothetical marking on the map of Australia arcing from Brisbane to Adelaide. Other versions (which are now said by many to never have existed) wavered between a line from Brisbane to Perth (General MacArthur's brain-snap), a line described by the Darling River (also referred to by MacArthur) and a line around an area resembling a south eastern bulge beginning in Brisbane and concluding in Melbourne. Everything within the bulge would be defended to the last bullet, butcher's knife or pitchfork. Everything outside of the bulge would be rendered useless to an envisioned invading Japanese army. This strategy is as old as war itself and is commonly referred to as a "scorched earth" policy.

What would a devil's advocate have to say about a plan for a withdrawal to the south east and an abandonment of the rest of the continent in the event of a Japanese invasion? How sensible was it? Before any consideration begins, a context is cried out for. These were truly desperate times. In the brief period after the bombing of Pearl Harbor signalled the beginning of the Pacific war, the Japanese Army had rolled juggenaut-like over Malaya, Singapore and the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). The fall of the supposedly impregnable Singapore to a numerically inferior force had sent shock-waves radiating out to the rest of the world but nowhere as traumatically as to Britain and Australia. It seemed the invasion of Australia would quickly follow just as irresistibly. And why not? The country was virtually defenceless. Its army had left home - to fight alongside a British army in the Middle East. All that remained in Australia as a martial presence was a hastily rounded up, insufficiently trained and armed militia. Australia's only hope of salvation was American aid which was virtually begged for but initially met with silence. The US was committed to a "Europe first" policy, which is not to say it had completely put the Pacific War on hold but it was low priority. Moreover, the Pacific plan most appealing to the US government was a direct thrust across the great expanse of ocean as proposed by Admiral Nimitz. The possible fall of Australia was not a fundamental concern. (Although the dismal fate of seven million whites would be regrettable.)

Given all these factors, it would be difficult to not conclude that a circling of the wagons was the only realistic course of action. Although it appears not to have occurred to Australia's political leaders, its military leaders were not completely unaware of the strategic value of heading the Japanese off in New Guinea, but how was this to be done given the state of Australia's military nakedness. One of the few rays of hope was offered by Australia's prime minister, John Curtain finally tearing the 6th and 7th Divisions out of Churchill's clutches and they were heading home albeit perilously devoid of air-cover. Even as the ships bearing the troops were underway, Churchill tried to divert them to the Burmese fiasco where they would have been surely destroyed - either killed or taken as POW's, not much better.

It seemed, with the factor of thousands of miles of coastline impossible to defend added to the country's other woes, a Japanese invasion could not be prevented. In light of all these considerations, a complete withdrawal to the main population centres of the south east, was, if not a good option, the only option. Its main draw-back of course was that Japanese bombers operating from outside the redoubt could bomb the defenders into surrender. Tasmanians would also have been unhappy about being told they were the Australians with the least to worry about. The counter to this would be that, knowing the Japanese, the island would be taken and its residents held to hostage. Surrender, or these people are going the way of the Tasmanian Tiger.

Unknown throughout all of this was that the Japanese high command had decided against invading Australia, Australians or anyone else of course not being privy to their plans. With their lines of supply already stretched to breaking point, they knew they would be biting off more than they could chew. Although the Japanese didn't exactly despise the idea of terrorising Australians with a fear of invasion, the real strategy was to cut Australia off from America so it could not be used as a springboard for American attacks into the underbelly of Japanese power, which is exactly what happened after negative results of the battles of the Coral Sea and Milne Bay had foiled Japanese plans for erecting a barrier between Australia and the US. Contrary to popular belief, the Americans did not come to Australia to save it. America came purely out of self-interest - to launch a second front. If in the process the north or north west of the continent had been lost to the enemy, then so be it. That could be sorted out later. This should have been easily digested food for thought for a never ending parade of Australian politicians who have placed implicit faith in an American alliance.

Now that Australia could relax a little, it was back to politics-as-usual. Right throughout the perceived threat of invasion the idea of a national government comprising the best from both sides of politics had been a moot point because of the toxic animosity between the Labor Party and the United Australia Party. It was about to become even more toxic. Edward "Eddy" Ward was a Labor Party member of the House of Representatives and was known as a "bomb thrower".

He was about to throw a block-buster. Midway through 1943, he let it be known to a stunned and soon to be outraged public that he had discovered plans drawn up by the previous UAP-CP (United Australia Party- Country Party) government that would see the greater part of the country abandoned to Japanese invaders complemented by a scorched earth policy. Adding fuel to the fire, he went as far as to say that no plans had been made for the evacuation of this area. Inhabitants unable to make it to safety off their own bat would be left to their fate. Ward was alone in making these accusations but no effort was made by his prime minister or other members to restrain him. Menzies, the then leader of the Opposition of course vehemently denied these accusations. The episode culminated in Curtain calling for a royal commission during which no evidence to support Ward's claims were uncovered. But the damage was done. The Labor Party went on to win a record majority in the election held that year.

Paul Burns, author of The Brisbane Line Controversy: Political Opportunism Versus National Security, 1942 - 1945, is excoriating of all involved in this tawdry piece of history. He says it "is a tale of political deceit, manipulation, cowardice and betrayal by politicians on all sides for electoral gain, involving shameless exploitation of public fears of Japanese invasion. It culminated in the callous scapegoating of innocent army officers whose only crime was their desire to defend their country in the most effective way possible." He stops barely short of charging treason.

One is reminded of Adolph Hitler's take on party politics in Mein Kampf: "By the introduction of parliamentarianism, democracy produced an abortion of filth and fire, creative fire, which, however seems to have died out."

"The parliament passes some acts of decree which may have the most devastating consequences, yet nobody bears the responsibility for it. Nobody can be called to account. For surely one cannot say that a Cabinet discharges its responsibility when it retires after having brought about a catastrophe."

The catastrophe in the context of Australia in the forties was that for years both sides of politics had been criminally negligent in allowing the countries defences to atrophy to the point of defencelessness.  

Burns goes on to reveal the rank hypocrisy of Ward and his quietly complicit Labor Party cronies. In 1942, just after it had won power from the UAP-CP coalition the Labor Party had implemented an exact replica of the retreat-to-the-south-east strategy for which they would be denouncing their political opponents.

In a stroke of pure serendipity, historian Sue Rosen, when doing research on Murray River Red Gum forests on behalf of the NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service in January 2012 when she discovered a file that had little to do with Red Gums or indeed any other kind of tree. As she recounts, it instead:

" ... detailed the "Wartime Activities of the Forestry Commission by a subcommittee headed by NSW Forestry Commissioner, EHF Swain. Glancing through the first few pages, I read phrases such as 'Total War' and 'Battle Stations for All' and 'Defence in Depth'. As I read on, it dawned on me that I had found buried treasure. These somewhat tatty, yellowing papers detailed plans for implementing in New South Wales the "scorched earth" policy adopted in 1942 by the Curtain government amid fears of on imminent Japanese invasion." Perhaps in an effort to avoid startling the horses too much, the "Scorched Earth Code" would become somewhat of a euphemism: the "Denial of Resources to the Enemy Policy. The entire package was stored in readiness by the Curtain Labor Government. And quite a package it was. The reproduced documents would fill an entire book produced by Rosen entitled, "Scorched Earth: Australia's secret plan for total war under Japanese invasion in World War 11.

Although Paul Burns splits semantic hairs in avoiding a conclusion that a Brisbane Line in fact existed exactly as "Bomb Thrower" Ward presented it, one would need to be on reality-dissolving drugs in order to claim that the myth had been "busted".  All that had been busted was the reputations of Australian military leaders, primarily Home Forces Commander, Lieutenant-General, Ivan Mackay, a highly decorated officer from WW1, who had conducted a comprehensive study on behalf of the Menzies/Fadden government in regard to Australia's defences vis-a-vis the forces Japan could throw at them and had concluded that it would be impossible for Australia on its own to resist an invasion. Throughout the duration of the war, Mackay would never be given the responsibilities his natural talents and abilities should have ensured him receiving. A black cloud of "defeatism" dogged him.

If history had taken a turn for the worse and Australia had have been invaded, it would be fair to conclude the Japanese would have had to pay dearly for their stay here. Napoleon's dictum that men fight harder to keep their country than men trying to take it from them would have been the Australian's first advantage. Secondly, the populace was well armed - far better than it is today - and both men and women knew how to shoot. Thirdly, the enemy would have been a long way from home in a naturally inhospitable environment far different to any they were used to. Fourthly, apart from a few "aliens" the population was totally homogeneous. The people were all in it together. Whatever their fate, it would be shared. If death were to be that fate, little doubt exists that the Australian people would have died hard. An Asian Australia was their worst possible nightmare. Little could they have imagined that in less than half a century traitorous governments would be well on their way to transforming the country into what they most feared and hated.

It's difficult to resist speculating on how it would have panned out if Australia had been then "multicultural". All those dual nationalities. How long would it have taken for all those so situated to decide that the Australian side of the equation was the one they could do without? Moreover, how long would it have taken for passages to be booked to places which, after one had thought about it, were after all their true homes. Australia though had been a nice place to visit.

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

THE MAN WHO PUT AUSTRALIA ON THE MAP AND THEN GAVE IT A NAME : The Adventures of Mathew Flinders. Part 2

Matthew Flinders (1774-1814), by unknown artist, c1800

After an epic display of seamanship and navigation in tackling the wild southern sea in the sloop Norfolk with Bass and a small crew to prove once and for all that Van Diemen's Land was in fact an Island, Flinders returned to England on the Reliance with a remarkable and daring proposition. He proposed solving the great remaining mystery of the Antipodes - whether Terra Australis was one land mass or several by circumnavigating it.

 By letter, he made the proposal - really the outline of a magnificent obsession - to no other than Sir Joseph Banks, to whom Flinders' growing reputation had already reached, and was evidently intrigued. Furthermore, Banks being a man of wealth, fame and remarkable influence, was just the man to facilitate the realization of Flinders' ambition. He was also aware of the strategic and scientific advantages such a voyage could provide.

 To give a better idea of Banks' influence, after he'd gained the go-ahead from the Admiralty for the expedition, he asked, "[i]s my proposal for the alteration in the undertaking for the Investigator approved?" the reply was "any proposal you make will be approved. The whole is left entirely to your decision."

The alteration he was asking for, unsurprising given Banks' obsessive interest in and encyclopedic knowledge of Botany, was to have included in the crew botanist, Robert Brown, gardener, Peter Good and the artist, Ferdinand Bauer to paint what couldn't be transported back to England. Apart from these three, once news of the planned mission spread, Flinders was inundated with requests from men wanting to join his crew, putting him in position to be able to hand-pick the best and the brightest. Captain and crew would all be young men for a young man's mission.

"Investigator" was the perfectly apt new name given to the ship chosen for the journey envisaged to take three years. It had started life in 1795 as a mercantile vessel named the Fram, and had been bought by the Navy in 1798 and renamed the Xenophon after a famous general of ancient Greece. As the Investigator, extensive refitting would be needed to tailor it more for exploring than fighting. By being directly given command of this vessel, Flinders became the youngest ever captain in the history of the British Navy, albeit, one not to have taken command of a ship only on the incapacitation or death of the former captain

It was during this period the "love interest" that formed the back-bone of Ernestine Hill's acclaimed historical novel, My Love Must Wait, moved centre-stage. She was Ann Chapell. The two had known each other since very young. Ann was blind in one eye from a smallpox lancing. She has been described as "loved by all who knew her". She was of considerable intellectual strength with a talent for painting wildflowers. Literature and poetry were passionate interests.

Not knowing exactly how the refitting of his ship would take, Mathew, feeling now a man of means and able to take on the responsibility of marriage knew he had to act fast. Without informing Banks or his naval superiors out of fear obstacles being placed in his planned marital path, he decided to present them with a fait accompli. With only relatives and a few close friends present, a hastily organised marriage was performed. With the precedent of the wives of ship's captains accompanying them on voyages already set, Flinders felt confident no prohibition would be placed on his taking Ann back to Terra Australis with him. Of course it wouldn't be a naval voyage in the accepted sense but he had planned for that. He explained to Ann that he was acquainted with several good women, the wives of officials back in Port Jackson, who would be only to happy to provide accommodation and support while he was away exploring. Ann was fully accepting of this proposal and was looking forward to the adventure.

But alas, the best laid plans .... When Banks discovered what must have seemed a plot, he was less than thrilled. Navy officialdom was similarly affected. The upshot was that it was let known to Flinders that no-one would try to stop Ann sailing off with him but there was no telling what consequences it produce in terms of his career (in which it was no secret he was royally ambitious). This was a cruel blow to the young lovers. However, after what must have been agonised decision making, Flinders, driven by single-minded ambition since boyhood to be a famous explorer, made up his mind. He would leave Ann behind. After all, he would write every opportunity that presented itself, and and the anticipated period of his absence would pass in no time. Little did they know that it would be nine years before their reunion.

The sweet sorrow of parting was prolonged by the Admiralty's dithering in giving Flinders the green light for departure long after the Investigator was ship-shape and ready to go. Three months were to pass with the couple feeling that any day could be among their last together.

At last on July 18, 1801, the loops of the ship's tethers to the capstans were lifted and it was sailed east from Spithead before turning south on what would be Flinders' third visit to Terra Australis. It's not difficult to imagine the euphoria of the crew engendered by cruising into the open sea after months of inactivity and frustration. However, for Flinders, the joy must have been tempered by the sight of the diminishing figure of his new wife waving her last goodbye from the dock.

The made good time and were soon being sling-shot around the Cape of Good Hope and into the fury of the "Roaring Forties".  But at least in heading east in the same direction as the wind their progress was supercharged. In the years to come, ships sailing in the opposite direction, even the great clippers before they were superseded by steamers would battle sometimes for weeks trying to round the Cape, often going backwards, often giving up all together, turning around and going the long way round via Cape Horn. (James Michener in his novel, Hawaii provides a compelling sense of what this would have been like.)

Even more difficult to imagine than the crew's elation at finally beginning the voyage is their joy at sighting land after weeks in pitching seas on a fragile, wooden ship. The land they were sighting on December 6, 1801 was the south west corner of Australia where a towering light-house now stands guard. It is also now, at least as far as Australian is concerned, where the Indian Ocean meets the Southern Ocean. Flinders named it Cape Leeuwin after the Dutch ship Leeuwin (Lioness) which had been known to sail along the nearby coast in 1622, and then all but fade from history. This then was the southernmost point of New Holland, so named by Abel Tasman.

New Holland, Terra Australis or New South Wales? The problem arises in a similar fashion to a group of blind men feeling parts of an elephant and wondering if they belonged to the same creature.
The term Terra Australis, or to give it its full mouthful, Terra Australis Incognita, preceded the other two terms even before it had been established that the land was any more than a legend. When the Dutch touched one side of the elephant, the name, New Holland, was a sure way of claiming a first contact (and possible possession if the original evaluation of it not worth possessing were to ever change).

 Between Tasman's visit in 1644 and Cook's discovery of the other side of the elephant in 1770, New Holland was the name for all between. However, for obvious reasons, this didn't suit the British in whose name the land was being claimed. It seems no time at all was taken in coming up with the name, New South Wales. However, perhaps chary of biting off more than they could chew, they were amenable to continue calling the side west of longitude 135 degrees of the mysterious land, New Holland. Presumably the location of the split was liable to re-calibration if the natural divide of a suspected strait running south-north was eventually discovered.

 From the cape, all along the underside of the hulking continent, they were in completely uncharted waters and this was where the real work of Flinders began - charting those waters, so treacherous that in the years to come they would be littered with the rotting bodies of hundreds of shipwrecks.

The progress was slow because Flinders was absolutely meticulous in his cartography. For example, whereas Cook, a master navigator himself who had greatly inspired Flinders, sailed constantly north from south of Botany Bay and was naturally only able to chart the coast by day, Flinders returned every day to the exact location at which his previous day's mapping was forced to cease by the setting sun. Where landings were possible in the ship's cutter he would land himself, climb to the highest point and measure angles by theodolite.

The daily entries in Flinders' log which would be transcribed into his A Voyage to Terra Australis show that the work of mapping the southern coast of Australia was proceeding as planned with almost the sense of a work-a-day world permeating it. However excitement must have been building on seeing the land falling away into the gulf that Flinders would name Spencer's Gulf after Lord Spencer (ancestor of the late Diana, Princess of Wales). Giving rise to the excitement was a burning question: did a straight divide New Holland from New South Wales, discharging water into the Gulf of Carpentaria from an opening roughly on the same longitude on the south side of the continent - something like Spencer's Gulf? This was a question that intrigued many, including Flinders, Banks, Governor of NSW, Phillip Gidley King and John Hunter who had preceded him. Rudimentary maps of the Gulf of Carpentaria produced by the Dutch showed it to be closed. It had been over one and a half centuries since Tasman visited the Gulf in 1644 and records of that voyage had disappeared. All things considered, the British didn't quite trust the mapping by the Dutch. It was still thought possible that they could have missed something as prominent as an opening to a strait.

But before the gulf could be entered, disaster struck on Sunday, February 21 1802. Off the island Flinders would name Thistle's Island, with the ship's fresh water supply alarmingly low, the ship's master, John Thistle, a midshipman and six crewman were sent to the island in a cutter to search for replenishment.

Just before dusk, the cutter was sighted returning to the ship. It was lost sight of "rather suddenly" (1) and a half hour later had still not arrived back at the ship. A Lieutenant Fowler was sent in a boat in search of the cutter but it was a futile exercise. He arrived back at the ship and reported that at the location of the cutter's last sighting, he met "so strong rippling of tide that he himself narrowly escaped being upset"(2). Strong suspicions were therefore raised that this same phenomenon may have caused the disappearance of the cutter.

In the new day the boat was sent again and this time returned as a funerial image  - towing the upturned and badly damaged cutter, so bad it appeared to have been dashed on rocks. Although with the likely fate of the missing men all but certain - none of them could swim well - a forlorn search was continued before the expedition got sadly back under way. Flinders would take it hard, his emotion not quite belied in the "stiff upper lip" style of his official accounting. In his journal he lamented the incident happening when it did, just before dark. Had there been more light left in which to search, he felt the outcome may have been different. He'd served with Thistle for around eight years. They were firm friends. The rest of those lost were well liked by him. The officers and crew would naturally have been shattered by so devastating a loss.

It seems that it was difficult for Flinders to eventually give the order to sail away from the area, but with drinking water now procured at such a terrible cost, he did. There was work to be done and a mission to complete. Names given to geographical points in the proximity of the disaster were chosen to memorialise the departed shipmates. The protrusion of land just to the west of the island named after his good friend, Flinders aptly named Cape Catastrophe.

Modern day tourists motoring along the bottom of Australia would probably be surprised to learn that just about every salient landmark was named by Flinders including Kangaroo Island, the long, piece of land crouching across  a strait from the mainland, that would become the somewhat anarchic home of sealers, whalers and escaped convicts even before Adelaide was settled. From the mainland, it seems to hover like a mirage along the horizon. Archaeologists have concluded that Aborigines abandoned the island over five thousand years ago. The reason why is a mystery. They wouldn't return - at least female representatives of the race - until as concubines of the rough white men of the island. A close point on the mainland to the island where a small town now squats was named Cape Jervis by Flinders. Sealink ferries now shuttle between Cape Jervis and the island.

Kangaroo Island features in the voyage of discovery because of the deliverance it provided to the men of the Investigator. This time it was not the lack of water that was the problem; it was the lack of food. The Kangaroos breeding to abundance in the relatively confined space of the island, even though the country's third largest - naturally enough suggesting a name for the location - transported the seamen from famine to feast. Several days were spent here, hunting, and after being deprived of fresh food for so long, gorging on Kangaroo steaks and boiling down half a hundred weight of heads and tails into soup that would last them days into the continuing journey. The lost shipmates perhaps hovered like ghosts at a banquet.

(1)  Flinders, A Voyage to Terra Australis, Volume 1
(2)  ibid

To be continued

Friday, April 6, 2018


Image result for image of Chinese troops marching

It could have been the Chinese feed I'd had the night before; it had tasted a little off. Or it may have had something to do with my recent messing about with attempts at lucid dreaming, the springboard to astral travelling or out-of-body-experience. Then again, it may have been the hallucinogenics devoured during a misspent youth coming back to bight me on the arse. Whatever, it had me fearful of falling to sleep for the next few nights.

I'd woken up sweating and it had been a cool night. I was gasping for breath. It seemed I'd stopped breathing. I was fearful, not sure where I was in space or time. Long, tense moments passed before realising I'd returned from the worse nightmare I could remember.

I had been in some point in the future, how far into the future was impossible to tell. Going by the political-social setup, I had skipped an impressive number of years. The world had been turned upside down, inside out and shaken all about. Oddly though, the material world was barely changed. Clothes, cars, computers, mobile phones had all trodden water.

Most of us whites were now living in squatter camps outside of country towns after being shunted from the major cities. the People's Liberation Army had invaded several years ago, although we weren't allowed to call it that now. It had been an "intervention" to protect the badly treated Chinese minority in Australia. Ha! That was a laugh on several levels. Firstly, the Chinese "minority" now greatly outnumbered the white minority, and that was largely because of our women failing to be convinced of the necessity of reproducing at replacement level. Secondly, it was the Chows who'd started the trouble, arrogantly lording it over us from their powerful positions in business and finance and their cosy establishment in the best real estate in the country. You could tell they despised us. And it was we who were supposed to be the racists!

By then every ethnic group in the country was at each other's throat. The multicultural house of cards - "the most successful multicultural society the world had seen" - could only be kept standing when there was plenty to go around, with extra of course going to the ethnics. But when resources began to dwindle after the economic crash - well, it was on. It was only then that we discovered how much they all hated us. But admittedly, the most bitter conflict was between  the Chows and us, or at least those of us who refused to join with our cowardly, self-loathing, one-worlder co-racialists who were saying it was poetic justice for we ourselves "stealing" the land from the true owners who had been innocently and harmoniously tripping through  fields of wild flowers and epitomising Rousseau's "noble savage". But guess who had the last laugh there though. These fools had who had thought assuming the position would put them in good stead with the new masters were cruelly disillusioned. The Chow soldiers appeared to despise them most of all and treated them accordingly. At least with those of us who had put up some resistance, they appeared to accord at least a modicum of respect.

The fate of the Aborigines was also irony at its finest. For years the People's Republic of China had been using the bleating of Australian left/liberals about "invasion" and "theft" of the land to meld it almost artistically into the propaganda being beamed at us telling us that our ownership of the land was illegitimate. This was amplified one hundred fold when push finally came to shove and a few of our less cowardly political leaders had the temerity to protest. More galling to the Chinese was some of our heroic military leaders refused the order to stand down. The odds against them though were appalling. With huge fifth column, comprising some from families who had been here for generations, providing intelligence, guidance and spying, the Chow soldiers were always one step ahead of our boys. After being smashed in organised battles, resistance rapidly descended into guerrilla warfare aided by those of us civilians who'd managed to avoid being disarmed by our own government's edict, and a scorched earth exercise which unfortunately in a particularly dry Summer, got out of hand. The resisters - those who hadn't been shot, blown up or burnt to death - were rounded up. Denounced by their own government as traitors, they were summarily executed.

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I'd escaped the dragnet only because of long acquaintance with a Chow originally from what was once called Taiwan who hated the mainlanders for the brutal way they'd occupied his country when he was a young boy and was willing to vouch for me and testify that I had not been part of the resistance.

The occupation of Taiwan had occurred straight after the US had inevitably collapsed just like the old Soviet Union, only infinitely worse, into anarchy, blood-drenched pogroms against the Jews, civil wars and extended catastrophe, under the weight of its own contradictions and refusal to face reality ("there is no such thing as race") Aztlan had been achieved and was bulging with the refuse of South and Central America who still flooded into the American dream that now only survived in their imagination.

 One of the last acts of the combined white militias was to storm the UN in New York and slaughter everyone inside. For decades it had been essentially irrelevant and on the brink of financial starvation once the Americans had refused to continue with its lion's share of the funding. It had been kept on life support only by contributions from obscenely wealthy Jews. There was undoubtedly an agenda behind this but no-one could quite figure out what it was.

With all this unimaginable chaos raging, the Russians essentially just waltzed in to physically remove America's nukes in the same way they'd done with the French and British weapons of mass destruction. Western Europe now only existed in geographical terms. In the French civil war, whites had fought bravely but had little chance of winning. Germany, still stupefied by the drip-feed of guilt about its supposed evil past, had basically decided national suicide was the only decent thing to do. Britain had become Muslim by democratic vote that, once counted, meant Britain was no longer a democracy.

Four European caliphates now existed and all were fighting each other for supremacy. This, and the ongoing fighting between Sunni and Shia over who was the rightful successor to Mohamed had most of Europe looking like Middle Eastern countries destroyed by Israel courtesy of their American proxy at the end of the twentieth century.

The Russian Federation which now also included Hungary and Poland and a few smaller states were the West's last chance. The area covered by these states had become a kind of nature reserve dedicated to the preservation of an endangered species - the White Man

Back here in Australia though, and most amazingly, Aborigines who were just as aware as the rest of us of what had happened during and after the fighting didn't seem to think that any of this applied to them. Some even seemed to think that the Chinese army was really here to aid them in correcting historical wrongs. While the rest of us were aghast, they began protesting in Brisbane. The new arrivals seemed to be at first bemused and then amused, even entertained by the Aborigines who, while chanting, "our land will not be stolen a second time - twice is too much", were going full tribal with billows of smoke, droning didgeridoos and colourful traditional dancing. Encouraged by signals they were completely misreading, the blacks upped the ante and began incorporating what appeared to be  hostility into the exercise, lunging with spears toward the Chinese soldiers before retreating to the back foot. They'd only done this a few times before an order was barked out and a deafening volley of automatic rifle fire crashed through the hot afternoon.

After the smoke and stench of cordite dissipated, almost one hundred Aboriginal bodies could be seen lying still and quiet in widening pools of blood. The terrible scenes were shown and re-shown on  now state-controlled national television. The message was loud and clear: this is how we roll when you piss us off. Some survivors were already on the run but it wouldn't last long. An order had gone out from the military command. Someone translated it for us: "round up these monkeys". All who were recognizably Aboriginal meekly accepted their fate and were then languishing in concentration camps in the desert. Word got back that their guards were treating them like animals in a zoo. The speed with which  "Aborigines" who were barely distinguishable from whites but for years had been proudly celebrating "their" culure, but now decided they were white after all, was close to Warp Speed. A few of us less noble whites tried to drop them into the Chows but only copped bad hidings themselves because they weren't believed. How could these white people possibly be Aborigines? Fake news wasn't to their liking.

What remained of our multicultural, multiracial government which had decided that discretion was the better part of valour was now falling over itself in its rush to acquiesce to demands, even to the point of putting out press releases to the effect that the PLC had been invited in to help stabilise a country spiralling into anarchy. Besides, it was added, wasn't this a prudent measure given that Indonesia, now fully Islamised, and for whatever reason - probably something resembling a racial inferiority complex - had always hated Australia, and had been acting increasingly hostile toward us, had recently had a plan of attack uncovered? Which was better, an Islamic Australia or one being "aided" by China? It was no secret that China still retained the trappings of communism shorn of its economic nonsense, but which still included a loathing of all forms of religion. It had no real interest in Indonesia itself, viewing it as too much trouble to get involved with. It was content to let it wither on the vine now that most of the Middle East, including Israel, was little more than smouldering, radioactive ruin, and with it the well-spring of Islamic revivalism. But China as sure as hell wouldn't be allowing Indonesia to become a replacement exporter of radical Islam.

 Also on the Chinese list of places to avoid was the long ago failed state of Papua New Guinea where cannibalism was re-ememerging. The Chows spoke of these "black devils" with a shudder. All in all, China was quite content with its hop, step and a jump straight to Australia where legendary amounts of mineral resources lay, Garden-of-Eden-like farmland and wide open spaces for the homeland's excess population were ripe for the picking. A clandestine agreement between the Australian and Chinese governments regarding the exportation of the excess population to Australian had been formalised decades previously but the requisite speed of the population transfer was sorely lacking, the PRC government had decided.

The remainder of South East Asia had been allowed a measure of autonomy as long as it deferred to China on major issues and maintained a flow of tribute to the resurrection of the Middle Kingdom. A suzerainty also existed regarding unified Korea and Japan, the latter though brought kicking and screaming into the reserve. That was until the PRC promoted lavish demonstrations and exhibitions through what was called "Remembering Nanking Week". This was followed by three nuclear weapon tests in quick succession. Japan suddenly became exceedingly meek and submissive.

They didn't mind that we still used the term, Australia. It didn't really matter. The Chinese being famous as long-term thinkers were patient enough for us to die out and take the name with us. We found out though from someone who could speak Mandarin that the Chows were calling out land Xin Nan Zhongguo (New South China)

We had been told our living in the camps while the Chows lived it up with white whores in the cities was only temporary. We had been designated as farm labourers. How many white workers would be needed to pick a peach? That was the obvious question. We didn't have to worry about that we were told. Even as we spoke, massive desalination plants and pumping stations were being built around the country. This new infrastructure would be used to make the deserts bloomed. The country would become a food-bowl. We knew that was bullshit. The Chows still had massive expanses of desert in their own back yard. If they couldn't do anything with that, how were they going to succeed here?

Still, what could you do? Some of us had escaped to the Russian Federation by freighter but now the ports were locked up tighter than a Crusader's wife's chastity belt. Resistance was futile. A mania developed of "what if?" What if we had long ago resolved to stay strong and not fallen for the "strength in diversity" bullshit" when all the time nature screams at you that it is in homogeneity that real strength, pride, and a determination to survive resides. Suicide was becoming a plague. It was beginning to loom personally as a more or less honourable way to exit this hopelessness. I began thinking of ways to do it. By gunshot was now impossible. I thought of jumping but knew that as soon as I launched myself I'd think it was a bad idea. It was while musing on these possibilities that I came across a vagabond plastic bag. I found a quiet spot, out of the way, and put it over my head.

That was when I woke up gasping for breath.

Saturday, March 31, 2018


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Out of the way! Run for shelter! The sky is falling! Our cricketing gods are plummeting so far they've become Lucifers. The cricketing world is being shaken to its core.Cheating? No, not our boys. It can't be! But it is. One must dig deep through cricketing annals to find a precedent of equal iniquity. Speeding back through time, we skirt the infamous Trevor Chappel underarm incident because, after all, it was within the letter of the law, if not the spirit. No, it's likely we have to go all the way back to 1624 when the first death during a cricket match was recorded. This occurred because a win-at-all-cost batsman - who no doubt would fit seamlessly into the modern game - tried to hit the ball a second time to avoid being caught out. Unfortunately, his second swing missed the ball and instead whacked fielder, Jasper Vinall, on the head, killing him. Whether or not a replacement fielder could be found so the match could continue is not known. Apart from the dispatch of the fielder, a crafty debater could argue that this incident was also within the rules but that was only because no-one had thought to pass a rule against such an unlikely eventuality of a batsman attempting a second bight of the cherry. In fact, only the most rudimentary rules did exist. It was only some time later that the one-hit rule was introduced but of course this would have been scant compensation to the hapless Vinall.

Be that as it may, does the recent uproar about the dreaded "ball-tampering" truly warrant being the hurricane it's become or, when put into its proper context, does it look like more of a storm in a bowler's pocket? What's the context? Well put it this way: how concerned would a white South African farmer, door-barricaded, firearms within easy reach, perhaps his wife planning suicide to avoid a worse fate, about a cricket game, no matter what kind of dirty tricks were being employed. An educated guess would be that his mind would be otherwise focused given the recently revealed government plan to appropriate his land without compensation and Julius Malema, head of the powerful Economic Freedom Fighters party wanting to "cut the throat of whiteness".

So what are we doing playing against South Africa anyway? To show our displeasure with the supposed evil of Apartheid, we boycotted SA via trade and sport. We boycotted, at least partially, the 1980 Moscow Olympics - we marched under the Olympic flag instead of our own, evidently hoping no-one would notice we were there - for a lot less than an ongoing ethnic cleansing. In fact the Russian invasion of Afghanistan that we were mildly protesting in 1980, was something we aided the Americans to replicate some years later.

Because of the hegemony of the Left, it's impossible for our elite to see anything at all wrong in today's SA. The narrative on their auto-reader is that with the coming of Saint Mandela and the fairy-tale ending of Apartheid in '94, justice finally prevailed and everything has been just hunky dory ever since. OK, a few Boer farmers may have had their hair mussed but how could it be realistically expected that not a little pay-back would be dished out. Because Apartheid was so evil, white South Africans have been maneuvered into the position in which ethnic Germans found themselves after the Second World War. Notwithstanding that up to three million Germans, predominantly women and children were destroyed in pogroms, massacres and massive and brutal population transfers. Outside of Germany though, not a tear was shed for them. They deserved it didn't they? Hadn't they brought it on themselves? Fucking Nazis!

Compounding the problem is the fact that white racial consciousness has been almost completely extinguished. Immediately after the flash of Australian Government interest in the plight of White SA farmers which disappeared faster than a free baked dinner in a backpackers' hostel, a letter writer with an Anglo Saxon name protested in a Sydney daily against SA farmers being given preferential treatment in our refugee programme. Why should they be allowed to jump the queue? he wanted to know. Short answer: because they are white, you idiot. Besides, a precedent had already been set when Balling Bob Hawke allowed thousands of Chinese students to remain in Australia after the Tianenmen  Square massacre - even though few had anything to fear from the Chinese government. It may also be remembered that a special deal was also worked out for no less than twelve thousand Syrian refugees who were perceived to be faced with greater danger than your average refugee. More danger than you average refugee faces could also be readily perceived in savage Blacks baying for your blood, egged on by a government shown not to be above using terror to drive you out of your country.

This pathetic lack of race consciousness among whites is a relatively new development. It hasn't always been so. Immediately after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, for example, when the US could think of little more than striking back as fast and as deadly as possible, it was determined that the swiftest way of doing this was by the implementation of the plan formulated by General Nimitz. It meant one concerted thrust due west. It also meant, and it is on record, that the Americans felt bad about it perhaps leaving seven million whites in Australia to the mercy of the Japanese. The racial connection meant something. The plan only changed when General MacArthur won his argument for a second prong attack directed north from Australia. Who knows? The precarious position of the seven million may have helped swing the argument.

But back to the present: So where is the intelligentsia in all this regarding the real outrage taking place in South Africa? Where is the modern day version of those university kids, weighed down by loaded-up barrels of social consciousness and outraged to the point of insanity by Apartheid, and who were doing their damnedest to disrupt Wallaby V Springbok rugby games in the '70s, including throwing marbles under the hooves of police horses. Figures on how many broken legs resulted - the equine death sentence - are not available.

As is well known, student activism fired up by social issues is not even a pale shadow of its former self, having contracted into the small space of what directly affects students themselves, but even so, even if they were aware of what was happening to whites in SA, which few would be, it's unlikely they would be unduly concerned. They have been soaked their whole lives in white guilt and been trained by an ideologically driven education system to feel only concern or compassion for the coloured victims of what is relentlessly represented as rapacious imperialism, which as Lenin put it, is the highest (therefore most evil) stage of capitalism, and of course they also have every last vestige of racial pride crushed out of them.

It's not outside the realms of possibility that, right now, while our fallen cricketers are said to be "emotional wrecks", white SA farmers are becoming physical wrecks at the hands of machete wielding "subhumans", as an independent Australian senator recently, Fraser Anning bravely put it at a recent Brisbane rally comprising hundreds who had turned out in support of SA farmers.
 "This is the start of genocide," he warned. If you live outside of Brisbane, however, it's unlikely you've heard about this.


Tuesday, March 27, 2018



"In history, nothing happens by      accident. If it happened, you can bet someone planned it." 
- Frank Delano Roosevelt

You might have been a world class prick Frank, but you sure got that right.

Ever heard of the Kalergi plan? Chances are, you haven't but if you have, congratulations, you're way ahead of the curve.  His plan? Well perhaps  you're old enough to remember a sugary "pop" song once oozing out of radios containing the refrain, and turn out coffee-coloured  people by the score. Therein was encapsulated the plan.

But to expand, Count Richard von Couldenhove Kalergi's plan outlined in his book, Praktischer Idealismus (Practical Idealism) predated both the ravings of Rabi Emmanuel Rabinovich (above) and the  bright idea of a European Union by about thirty years. However, Kalergi's vision of a European Union cut straight to the chase, totally eschewing any pussy footing around. In a nutshell:

Image result for image of Kalergi and his plan

Kalergi's father was an Austrian diplomat (Kalergi, the younger would follow in his father's occupational footsteps), Heinrich von Coulden-Kalergi, and his mother was Mitsu Aoyama, a Japanese aristocrat. This, "never the twain shall meet", meeting in one individual and resulting in the inevitable divided self may have gone some way to explaining his burning hatred of the White race.

In 1922 Kalergi founded his Pan European Movement which aimed at everything the European Union would become and more. Impressed by his ideas was none other than Baron Louis de Rothschild who, evidently a little tight-fisted himself, put Kalergi in touch with fellow tribesman Max Warburg who was a soft touch for money directed at anything that might be good for Jews.

"How much do you need?"
"Just enough to get the Pan European Movement up and running."
"Cheque or cash?"

Making absolutely sure the project would never lack financial fuelling, a certain Mister Baruch add a generous sling. So it can be easily seen that Kalergi's ideas did not lack appeal to the chosen ones. Why?

Although Kalergi was not a Jew himself, he seems to have worshipped the very ground they spat on. Moreover, he fully shared their own view of themselves as being the master race which simply had to show patience in awaiting the coming of the Messiah who would organise everything the Jews had coming to them - in short, the world. The uppity goy (the cattle) would be relegated to their true position in the natural order, that is, serfs or slaves, to serve to serve the natural aristocracy, the Jews. Kalergi had been quick to point out that natural justice precluded the Jews and only the Jews from the horrors of the race-mixing blender. Someone had to be spared from this Frankensteinian dystopia in order to run the show. What was not to like here?

I'm indebted to Mike King, producer of the Tomato Bubble site, for winnowing out this essential quote from the 1925 book, Kalergi, now with plenty of shekels in his pocket, was able to produce:

"Instead of destroying European Judaism, Europe, against her will, refined and educated this people, driving them to their future status as a leading nation through this artificial evolutionary process. It's not surprising that the people that escaped from the Ghetto-Prison, became the spiritual nobility of Europe. Thus the compassionate care given by Europe created a new breed of aristocrats. This happened when European feudal aristocracy crashed because of the emancipation of the Jews." And it could be added, because of its destruction  by revolutionary Jews. In their rush to become the new aristocracy, it's unlikely any consideration was given to the freeing of the serfs or the proletariat. Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss. Only worse

As Kalergi saw it, the future would belong to the New European man and a new aristocracy. Tragically, that future has all but arrived. The fait accompli, at the frantic pace being forced, can be only a few years off. It's fair to say that the trap hasn't completely snapped shut just yet but that's not through lack of trying and the ramping up of the process such as we have seen in the last few years suggests an endgame and a going-for-broke

Kalergi is thankfully dead and supping with the devil but his spirit lives indomitably on. His twisted ideas endure, never having even paused for breath. His overall strategy has taken only marginal tactical detours. For example, whereas he envisaged a United States of Europe being led by a United States of America, itself as well as other parts of the outlying White world not escaping mongrelisation, the EU and the US, as ideologically twinned as they are, are still separate centres of gravity. Admittedly though, the Kalergi vision came perilously close immediately straight after World War Two and the Marshal Plan with its attached strings ensuring Western Europe becoming something resembling a US colony. The growing economic might of the EU was perhaps responsible for staving off this fate.

If Kalergi still lived, it's unlikely he'd be unduly troubled by this wrinkle in the programme as we are still on course toward his ultimate destination which was a Jewish World Government.

Speaking of a world government, Kalergi's madness can be seen still percolating merrily away in the second great lunge at it, the UN, the first being an embarrassing flop because of the budding super power, the US, having the good sense to treat it like the plague that it was and stay well away. It was only later that the home of brave had its collective brain lobotomized.

In its New Report on Replacement Migration (yes, it actually calls it that) of March 17, 2000, UN number-crunchers estimate in the millions how many immigrants will be needed in the developed world to offset declining birth rates, essentially abolishing that same developed world.

Well that's all well and good you might say, but how did these declining birthrates come about? In a work, Feminism. Here we are not talking about bourgeois feminism, the so called first wave the Pankhursts were instrumental in launching to address legitimate grievances but the other kind, where it really curdled in wave 2, whose way was cleared by, you guessed it, Jews/Communism (the two halves being inextricably tangled)

"If women's liberation is unthinkable without communism, then communism is unthinkable without women's liberation."
- Russian revolutionary, Inessa Armand

Quick illustration: while the Third Reich government adamantly refused to expose women to the horrors of combat, hordes of Soviet women fought and died in vicious fighting and were just as amused at the rape of millions of German women as those doing the raping. Now that's liberation!

Marx and his cronies viewed the situation of women as a double oppression, first by the bourgeoisie, the second by men who shackled them into the degraded role as reproducers, indeed, trapped in "privatised reproduction". This had to be rectified, with bonus points being awarded for the resulting destruction of the family, a pillar of capitalist society. Once freed women would dance gaily through the free bordello known as free love, another central tenet of an ideology that would see all power arrogated by the state. As an ironic aside, top Communist dog, Joe Stalin, wasn't really on board with this strand of Marxist thought, preferring to retain the more conservative designation of free-loving women: "sluts".

Soviet style women's liberation is seen by some, mainly Cultural Marxists, as the thread linking first wave feminism with the second. And it was mainly Jews who kept this ball rolling, given an initial kick along by Betty Frieden's 1963 book, The Feminist Mystique. Another huge star was Gloria Steinem, undercover Playboy Bunny, who profited by her experience with a tell-all article in Show Magazine, entitled, "A Bunny's Tale". (Get it?) It was a tale of degradation, exploitation of women and horrible men. Why, none of those poor Bunnies would be seen dead inside the Hefner's mansion.

Then came Naomi Wolf, trading on her beauty with The Beauty Myth. Her later offering was Vagina: a New Biography. Who knew it had an old one?

Of course after the unrelenting brainwashing onslaught of the '60s, what sane woman would want to be some man's bitch, to slave for him over a hot stove, go through the agony of childbirth to deliver his children - simply more factory fodder for the filthy, robbing, capitalist state. No way. More important things than bearing children needed doing, such as masquerading men, forging a career, barging into politics, shrieking about "gender inequality" well after the inequality was being worn on the other foot, and of course, being "empowered".

It's not difficult at all to see the long-term, patiently adhered to strategy here. You create a problem - feminism, leading to declining birthrates, and then propose the solution - mass, third world immigration. Really, if it wasn't so sickening, one would feel inclined to tip his hat. Genius really. Kalergi would no doubt be extremely proud of all who passed on the baton after him to realise exactly what he wanted.

But, really, is declining first world birth rates and the concomitant aging population the double catastrophe it's being presented as, or is it more of a con and myth along the lines of the global warming hoax, something else that individual nations on their own have no hope of rectifying? (Calling World Government.) And if global overpopulation is really the planet-killer it's said to be, couldn't a silver lining wrapped around declining birthrates perhaps be found somewhere in some distant cloud?

Let's think about this for just one moment. With technology roaring ahead at an ever acceleration rate and providing automation, for ever more complicated processes, what will the torrent of largely uneducated and unassimilable immigrants become other than useless mouths to feed. How does that increase the tax base to support a growing aged demographic? Moreover, with immigrants having no connection to their new homes, why should they care about what happens to elderly whites?

The leading fly in the ointment here is Japan, of the West politically and econonically, but in no other way. It too has an aging "crisis", but interestingly it isn't interested in relying on mass immigration as a solution, firstly being aware, just as any fool would be, that immigrants are not Peter Pans; they age just like natives, and secondly, if it came to trading the death of a nation for national suicide, it would, well known for its sense of honour, stick with the former.

Death to Japan, however, is not likely to arrive in any form. For example, it is not home to over half the world's robots for nothing. With more and more robots doing the work and sustaining the nation's wealth, all that needs to be done is finding a way of more evenly distributing that wealth, as well as learning to live with increased leisure time - and that might be the biggest hurdle of all for the Japanese. Whatever, they are far from being faced with a "Sophie's choice" - terrible either way.

Perhaps we in the West could be also little more clear-sighted if not still hypnotised by the eyes of an evil dead man.


Wednesday, March 21, 2018


Image result for picture of martin bryant

"Mankind can only bear so much reality." These immortal words of TS Elliot related to internal reality, the reality of who we are at our innermost core. They are though also well suited to external reality - the nature of the world in which we live, ideas of crime, law, order, justice, government, the state. In order to remain sane, we join a consensus, a collective consciousness, if you will, that corrals all these disparate but interconnected abstract nouns in a protected space where they will settle, static and comforting.

Sometimes though, volcanic upheavals shock us into realising that what we thought was rock solid could be blown away like so much smoke, upheavals such as war, economic collapse and natural disasters. It is during events like these that our sanity can be sorely tested.

Rarer still are ideas so shocking, so threatening to our conception of the world, that our minds instinctively snap shut against them. They belong to a reality that mankind cannot bear. Whether we keep our minds locked or test our ability to bear the unbearable is of course a personal choice. Coming to this fork in the road, do we scamper along with the timid crowd, or do we take the road less travelled? Both roads offer advantages. The first will offer protection against our worldview falling apart as once solid buildings do in an earthquake. The second may harden us, arm us and equip us with the power that only knowledge can provide, free of illusion.

Now step up with me to the parting of the ways. An almost peculiarly American phenomenon has seen for many years successive governments, or rogue elements thereof, slaughtering, or allowing to be slaughtered, their own citizens for political gain. The best known examples are Pearl Harbor, the Oklahoma bombing and 9/11. The British got into this act early by orchestrating the sinking of the Lusitania in an attempt to lure the US into  World War 1.

At approximately 13.30 on April 28, 1996, Australia's distance from the rest of the world's turmoil proved to offer no protection from an evil so so satanic as to defy comprehension when that same tried and trusted method was visited upon its sunny shores. At that time at the Port Arthur Historic Site (PAHS) in Tasmania, a man, after a snack and drinking a can of Schweppes Solo in the Broad Arrow Cafe, stood up from his table, withdrew a  semi-automatic rifle from a sports bag and with military precision began blasting away at customers and staff.

The shooter displayed the skill only a few people in the world would possess - the skill and the rare psychological callousness to be able to continue shooting while witnessing close-up the horror he was creating. He fired from the hip while swivelling to avoid being tackled and disarmed. With almost super-human coolness, he counted while he shot so he would know when to clip in a new magazine while still having a round in the chamber.  Within just several minutes he is said to have fired 29 rounds, although inexplicably not adding up to the twenty dead, 19 of whom were head-shot, and twelve wounded. This was an inversion of the killed to wounded ratio usually seen in combat and terrorist events - another demonstration of the shooter's uncanny ability. Satisfied that his work was done here, the man left the cafe hunting more victims. Another 15 lives would end that day. Another 11 would be wounded - the same inverted killed to wounded ratio.

The man we are asked to believe was responsible for this atrocity was one Martin Bryant. A resident of Newtown, Hobart, Bryant could only score 66 on the intelligence quotient scale, so low that in an adulthood more resembling a childhood, he would require a guardian. He had had no military training. He could fire a gun but would struggle to knock a tin can off a fence at close range. His child-like nature contained an abhorrence at the harming of any living thing. Bryant fired a gun left-handed. The shooter in the cafe and beyond fired right-handed. Since escaping from a burning building in which, as patsies usually are, he was supposed to have died, and then being strapped down on his back on which he bore first degree burns, Bryant has been the victim of torture, albeit more subtle than initially. He is said to resemble a caged and sick, dumb animal.

Extensive and intricate planning went into the military style operation that day at Port Arthur, something else Bryant would have been utterly incapable of. Would, for example, a mentally handicapped man have the cunning, ability and foresight to arrange for the only two policemen in the area - Constable Paul Hyland stationed at Nubeena and Constable Garry Whittle stationed at neighbouring Dunalley - to be sent on a wild goose chase which took them to Saltwater River, at least 25 minutes travelling time from Port Arthur just before the shooting started. They were sent to investigate an alleged stash of heroin which turned out to be laundry powder. Notified of the carnage happening at Port Arthur they sped back but only to block off escape routes from the crime scene.

At the actual location where unimaginable carnage had just occurred, one lone policeman was the sole representative of law and order and possible protection while the gunman was still at large and feared to be returning to the cafe where PAHS staff were bravely and desperately trying to save the wounded.

Wendy Scurr, a remarkable woman, was the Information Officer at Port Arthur. She selflessly and unhesitatingly took charge of caring for the injured, triage style, inside the cafe. She would later give a graphic account of what she experienced, part of which was, "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw two Asian people still sitting in their chairs at the table with their meals in front of them. One was still holding his knife and the other had the index finger through the handle of the coffee cup she had been drinking from. Both had been shot through the head. .... I trod on something. It seemed to crack under my feet. It was the skull of a young woman. She had the top blown off her head and to my horror her brain was lying in a bowl of chips."

Wendy was one of two people who had seen the gunman and stated categorically it was not Martin Bryant. The other was a Vietnam Vet, John Godfrey, who had seen the gunman twice outside the cafe.
Of the forty odd people who had survived the shooting inside the cafe, only a few identified the gunman as being Bryant but this was only after a photo of Bryant had been shown world-wide. For obvious reasons a law exists prohibiting such a thing occurring but in this instance absolutely no effort was made to enforce it. It would be no great stretch to conclude that the police were colluding with the media.

Moreover, regarding the police, more than an incredible six hours were to pass between the first shots fired and the arrival in force of heavily armed police. Even the Keystone Cops could have responded faster than this. Who was holding them back and why?

As seen, witness identification was, to say the least, problematical. But perhaps it was superfluous given the supposed weight of evidence that was used to damn Bryant. So let's go through it. That didn't take long because there is none. How about the aforementioned articles left behind in the cafe by the gunman: the can of Solo, a plastic Schweppes cup he drank from, a video camera, the sports bag in which the rifles said to be used were carried and still containing various articles including a blood-stained knife, as well as the food tray he used and was seen by one witness to drop to the floor as soon as the shooting started. Surely that would contain fingerprints and DNA evidence that would seal the case for Bryant being the mass murderer.

 One problem: these articles were never examined. Only one reason could be for that and it would be that fingerprints and DNA would be shown to belong to someone other than Bryant. The blood on the knife was said to belong to David Martin allegedly stabbed to death by Bryant. Noeline and David Martin, acquaintances of Bryant, and owners of The Seascape cottage guesthouse, were alleged to have been Bryant's first victims before continuing to the PAHS driven by an insatiable blood-lust. Noeline was shot to death. The knife is another piece that refuses to fit into the puzzle. This is because later back at the Seascape guest house and then under siege, Bryant, said to be identifying himself as "Jamie" while on a phone-call to a police negotiator tells him about having his "favourite" knife with him. If it was his favourite knife, wouldn't this have given him extra pleasure in using it to murder David Martin? Incidentally, in another instance of doubling-up, immediately after the shooting inside the cafe, a witness was to report seeing the gunman putting a sports bag into the boot of a car. Had the first sports bag left inside the cafe reproduced itself?

If anything could be more astonishing and difficult for a human brain to process than the massacre, it was the unbelievably amateurish and cocked up framing of Bryant that still managed to go unnoticed by the Australian public. It's difficult to know where to start. However ...
The weaponry: Two assault rifles were said to be used on the Tasman Peninsula that terrible day, a Colt AR 15 Semi-automatic and a Belgian FN - FAL Semi-automatic SLR although at least one of the wounded needed shotgun pellets extracted from his flesh. Bryant is not known to have owned either of these guns. The Colt that he bought in 1993 through an advertisement in The Mercury was an AR 10. This rifle was brought into a gun-shop owned by one Terry Hill in late March '96 for repair. PROBLEM: It was still in the shop on the day of the shooting.

According to a article of March 3, 2016, Bryant is recorded as saying he didn't blame Terry Hill for selling him an AR 15. This, when all factors are accounted for, sounds very much like Bryant saying what he'd been coached to say after being broken by more than six months of solitary confinement, all during which he could not be persuaded to plead guilty. The loudest alarm bell here is Terry Hill refusing to admit he had sold Bryant any gun and with records to prove it.

When pressure was brought to bear on Hill in the form of an intimidating letter from attorney, John Avery (hold that name) on behalf of Tasmania Police in which a form of protection would be offered to Hill if he did what he was told. (protection racket?)  On the other hand, if Hill refused to play along, dire consequences were predicted. Hill, being evidently an honourable man stuck to his guns, so to speak. He was forced out of business soon after.

The two assault rifles were found damaged outside the Seascape  Cottage after police had evidently set it on fire and before Bryant emerged in a ball of flame, and after Bryant was supposed to have held off police all night with the rifle-fire of a trained sniper. What was he firing bullets with, his much loved knife? It doesn't get much more curioser than curious when eventually the damaged AR was found to have been surrendered to police in a prior buy-back and then resold by the police to a third party. 

The siege: This lasted from the afternoon of the 28th till the morning of the 29th. Bryant, or "Jamie"  demonstrated impressive battle skills throughout. Not only could he be on the telephone calmly speaking to a police negotiator at the same time as shots were being fired from within the building he could cleverly emulate a sub-atomic particle doing its famous quantum leap and being in two places at the same time. While, for example, he could be on the ground floor speaking on the phone and sometimes cooking up snacks, he could at the same time be on the roof of Seascape taking pot-shots at helicopters evacuating the wounded to hospitals in Hobart.

Also, how's this for someone with no combat experience or military training - extracts from the transcript of telephone conversation between "Jamie" and the police negotiator:
Jamie: ... What I've actually found out man is that one of you boys is right outside North East. I'd say with an infra-red scope ... just ask him to move on.
McCarthy: (police negotiator)  Alright, we'll do that. Now.
Jamie: Good, good, good, good. Um now the name of this scope is a laser scope. Laser devices now it's the same sort of red dot I've noticed ...

In another part of the transcript, when negotiations are going on about a helicopter to transport the gunman and his hostages away from the scene,MacCarthy says something like, now I know you don't want to give us your real name but how about just giving us you passport number (presumably so subsequent air-flight out of the country can be arranged) Jamie helpfully does just that. Really, how many people can remember their passport number? The actual passport, almost a precursor of the passport belonging to one of the 9/11 hijackers that fluttered to earth in pristine condition, is lying conveniently nearby in the yellow Volvo just waiting to be found. The car is left unattended all night with a window open resulting in all fingerprints inside and out being destroyed by the night's condensation. Who else beside Bryant was in it will never be known.

A man dressed in black was said to be seen darting between buildings of the Seascape complex. Had Martin changed out of the light coloured clothing he been seen in earlier in the day? Apparently though, not much clothing at all was left on Bryant as he escaped the blazing Seascape yelling, "Don't shoot. Don't shoot. I'm the hostage." If this was a ploy, it was a good one for a man with the mind of an eleven year old.

The trial that never happened. As already seen, Martin was kept in solitary for more than six months, longer than sanity can usually survive. After having two defence attorneys appointed to him - they didn't last, possibly because the opprobrium attracted by defending the most hated man in the country meant the heat in the kitchen was too much to bear - a third attorney was appointed him. You should still have this name tucked away in your head, it was none other than John Avery, the attorney who'd been working for the police trying to pressure Terry Hill into admitting he sold a Colt AR 15 to Bryant. He apparently switched sides so adroitly that the words, conflict of interest, never drifted through anyone's mind. Avery is a filthy, avaricious, lying thief who was convicted in '09 for misappropriation and 129 counts of stealing. His highly amusing and creative defence was that he'd become addicted to high value works of art. He was sentenced to six years but was out in just over three.

You wouldn't want this joker by your side even to contest a parking infringement. You'd end up in gaol. He actually took credit for the unrelenting way in which he convinced Bryant to plead guilty, therefore, in his mind, sparing the grief-stricken from further pain. That could possibly be seen as not taking instructions from a client until finally getting instructions you liked. He bragged about the creative way in which he turned Bryant around. Keith Allan Noble claims in Mass Murder that what ultimately got Bryant across the line was the promise of a TV set in his lonely cell, something like, you'll be spending the rest of your life in a cell anyway and if you don't plead guilty you'll be doing it without a TV set.

Nothing was too low in regard to working on Bryant to avoid a trial that would have been disastrous for the real perpetrators. Even his mother, Carleen, was drafted into service. To what she afterwards claimed to be her everlasting shame, she allowed herself to be coerced into telling Martin that if he didn't plead guilty he would never see her or his sister ever again. And this after elsewhere saying, "he wouldn't have had the brains to do it". Slimy Avery bragged that getting into his client's head wasn't easy but he managed it anyway. One of his tactics, he was proud to say, was having him drawing pictures of how the killings were carried out. The poor bastard probably thought he was drawing pictures of the real gunman committing the killings.

Most outrageous of all in terms of preventing a trial was the illegal confiscation of Bryant's wealth which was substantial as a result of a sympathetic friend leaving her estate to him. It was claimed that the reason for this was to put the money toward compensating the survivors of the tragedy as well as families of those killed. However, Keith Noble claims in Mass Murder that no-one saw a cent of this money. The real reason for the confiscation of Bryant's money appears to be so that he would be prevented from obtaining a decent defence. Finding someone to represent him appointed via paltry government legal aid was problematical as few lawyers relished the idea of becoming the country's second most hated person. Indeed, this seems to be the reason his first two court appointed lawyers didn't stick around long, at least one of them known to be the recipient of hate mail.

However, if Bryant hadn't had his money stolen from him by the State, he would have been able to pay the kind of fee that a top legal team would tend to see as adequate compensation for whatever opprobrium the job attracted,

No coronial inquest ever took place, notwithstanding that by law it was absolutely essential. This was largely the result of prime minister of the time, John Howard's recommendation that this would be simply salt in the wounds of all who had lost love ones to the killer, and besides, everybody already knew who the killer was so any inquest or trial would be not only painful but superfluous. In this, Howard skated dangerously close to trashing the much revered Westminster system, a central tenet of which is a fire-wall erected between the executive and the judiciary. Or did know more than he would ever let on? Something so terrible that no risk could be taken with the escape of its knowledge through the rattling of legal cages.

Moreover, the potential pain to survivors may have been a worthwhile trade-off for getting to the truth instead of being ploughed under with bullshit and knowing that, instead of getting off scott-free, the actual killers were being hunted and their facilitators were getting their just deserts (if only their being lined up against a wall was possible). Australia would never have been the same again but so what if the happiness of the fool was replaced by a healthy fear and loathing of what our State is capable of.

So what are we to make of all this? Firstly, that the continuing torment in confinement of an innocent man is by far the worst travesty of justice in Australia's history. Secondly, that we the people should be highly wary of a State that is capable of murdering us, or at least allowing us to be murdered and then covering it up, should the stakes be high enough. That there was a cover up, there is no doubt. But what were the stakes? At the outset, we saw that what happened at Port Arthur was not the first event of its kind. A political end is always the motive. And the motive here was to largely disarm the Australian population. Why? So it is incapable of fighting back. Against what? Anyone who has read A Government of Wolves, by John Whitehead can be in no doubt that the US is spiralling into totalitarian police state. The surveillance, police state is coming about largely because of exponentially developing technology mated with the murkier side of human nature. Why is the US becoming a police state? Because it can.

But it could never happen here in laid back Australia. Could it? Perhaps we might be too distracted by football and reality TV to notice. Generally, we are usually just a few years behind America. In fact simply watching America is like peering at Australia's future in crystal ball. Whitehead notes the unmistakable militarisation of American police caused by the infusion of military tactics and a torrent of hand-me-downs of military equipment. SWAT raids, for example, that were once rare are now as unexceptional as  postal deliveries. The next time a televised report of a drug bust in Sydney or Melbourne appears, take note of the way the police are dressed. A bit like a SWAT team?

In exactly the same way that Port Arthur was orchestrated by forces of the New World Order both here and abroad, suspicion is warranted in regard to the ramping up of the number of mass shootings now taking place in the US. An ongoing attack is being ruthlessly waged against the second amendment. But that amendment was inserted for the best of all possible reasons. Without it, no hope at all exists in the coming war against the monstrous technological machine of NWO totalitarianism. "Out of my cold dead hands," indeed. The answer to the perennial question asked by Plato amongst others of "who will guard the guardians?" is, the "guarded".

Martin Bryant has spent 22 years in Risdon Prison. Unless he's helped he will die there. If he is helped, a chance exists that he will be exonerated and allowed to spend the rest of his life as a free man. At 51, he is still a relatively young man. If he stays in gaol, at 51 he may be a very old man.

Sources: Mass Murder, Keith Allan Noble
               The Port Arthur Massacre: was Martin Bryant framed?


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