FREE MARTIN BRYANT

"There would be no effective gun control in Australia until there was a massacre in Tasmania." Mr Barry Unsworth, NSW Premier at a special State Premiers' meeting, Hobart, Tasmania, December, 1987






















Port Arthur in Tasmania has been for many years a popular tourist attraction. Carved out of bushland, with the ocean lapping its foreshores, it is a picture of tranquility. With its manicured lawns, the natural beauty of the place belies its demonic past. The ruins of the penitentiary, the aching heart of the old penal colony are the only reminders of the cruelty that once flourished here - that and a few old pictures of convicts providing the locomotive power on the Port Arthur to Eagleneck railway. Although considered 'humane' by the standards of the day, by ours it could not be seen as anything other than a smoothly administered Hell on Earth.

On the sunny Sunday afternoon of April 28, 1996, as if the settlement straddled an unstable fissure, Hell erupted once again at Port Arthur. It was a normal day at Port Arthur's Broad Arrow Cafe. It was crowded and filled with bubbling conversation and a relaxed atmosphere. That was until, at approximately 1.30, a man who had been having his lunch at a table, rose and took the remainder of his meal outside to finish it. A short time later, he returned, drew a Colt AR15 Commando assault rifle and a spare clip from a blue sports bag and began firing. It is impossible to comprehend, let alone portray the effect of the collision of such sudden horror with such peaceful everydayness. One can only provide the details as conveyed by survivors and deduced by forensic investigation.

The first twelve victims were killed with single shots to the head in fifteen seconds. This kill rate as it is prosaically termed by the military was nothing short of amazing. The fact that each was felled at an average range of twelve feet by a gunman firing from the hip and all the time swivelling as a precaution against counter attack was equally amazing.

The weapon of choice, the Colt, was the perfect tool for the job. Firing a small, 5.56 (.22)calibre round at extremely high velocity, it packs enough kinetic energy to blow apart human heads like over-ripe melons. This is exactly what it did in the Broad Arrow Cafe.

After moving into the souvenir shop of the cafe seeking further victims, the murderer's total indoor tally was twenty killed (nineteen head-shot) and twelve wounded - 32 killed or injured with 29 rounds. Several people had been hit with bullet shards and bone fragments from other victims.

The gunman had stopped at round number 29 for good reason. He was using 30 round clips. With one round still in the chamber, he was able to change clips without, again, leaving himself vulnerable to counter-attack.

An eerie silence pervaded the scene of the carnage. The moaning and crying of the wounded was audible but this was nothing in comparison to the concussion-inducing roar of the muzzle blast bouncing of the walls of the contained space.

The gunman waited some minutes before leaving his blood-soaked sanctuary for the uncertainty of the outdoors. The official version has it that he left the cafe immediately after firing the last shot but this has been disputed - like so much else in the official version.

Wendy Scurr, a trained nurse who worked at Port Arthur as a tour guide was one of the first into the cafe after disregarding a bullet whining past her head a short time earlier. She was accompanied by two people she had trained in first aid. In her nursing career Wendy had been confronted by truly horrific scenes, but none like this. She would suffer classical post traumatic shock for many years afterwards. Blood fills her memories - the strong smell of warm blood, blood squelching underfoot, blood-spattered walls and blood dripping from the ceiling. She remembers a human brain resting in a plate of potato chips. She remembers an Asian couple sitting at a table - the woman with a piece of cutlery in her hand, the man with a finger through the handle of coffee cup - looking up from their meal as though surprised. Both had neat bullet holes in their foreheads.

Once out in the car park the man, as casually as a golfer selecting a more suitable iron, switched to a Belgian FN SLR .308 This is a heavier weapon - a driver instead of a five iron, but unlike the marginal readjustment needed switching between clubs, the behaviour between the two weapons because of weight and kick was considerable. It was of no consideration though to this particular marksman who did not appear to miss a beat. More killed and wounded dropped where he found them. Echos of the rifle shots rolled across the open space.

He then got into a Yellow Volvo and drove toward the toll booth at the entrance to the Port Arthur Historic Site. The Volvo belonged to a local man named Martin Bryant. Bryant, 28 at the time, is intellectually disabled. With with an IQ of 66 and the mental age of an eleven year old, he is literally a moron.


It was then that by the unkindest twist of fate that he spotted 36 year old Nanette Mikac running with her two daughters away from the Broad Arrow Cafe to presumed safety. He stopped the car, got out and aimed the rifle at the woman who was holding her youngest daughter, three year old Madelain, in her arms. Ignoring her pleas for mercy, he killed them both with a single bullet. Six year old Alanah - the girl with stars in her sky blue eyes, the girl with a sign hanging on her bedroom door proclaiming 'Future Miss Australia - ran for her life. It would last only several seconds though as he fired again and cut her down.

The shooting, up to this point, had lasted just 17 minutes. Just four minutes before it had started, the only two police in the area had been lured to the remote location of Saltwater River on a bogus tip-off concerning a stash of heroin which turned out to be soap powder. The informant had chosen to remain anonymous and had taken the trouble to call the local police rather than 000, the emergency number that records all calls. It would take at least 30 minutes to return to Port Arthur from Saltwater River. The police being so far away also meant there'd be no-one to raise the draw bridge connecting Port Arthur to the rest of the peninsular it was separated from, thus effectively sealing the area. This is just one of the many factors that have caused many to doubt that the right man received retribution for this horrific crime - the worst in the nation's history. Could Martin Bryant, the man who was charged with its commission and has sat for almost fourteen years in Risdon Prison with no hope of release, be the wrong man? Could a man with an IQ of 66 be capable of such meticulous planning?

The man in the Yellow Volvo sped towards the toll-booth at the entrance to the Port Arthur Histrorical site where he stopped and killed four more people. He got back into the car and continued in his quest of extinguishing human life wherever he found it. Perhaps for a distraction, or to break the monotony, he also killed two cars that day. Adopting a free-standing position like a hunter stalking fast moving big game, he brought them, at range, to a halt with single shots to the engine blocks.

Abandoning the Volvo with a Daewoo combat shotgun in the boot, the killer commandeered a BMW and took one of its occupants hostage. He originally intended to take the female companion hostage but the man, Glen Pears, had offered to take her place. He then blasted the hysterical woman.

The action then moves to the Seascape Cottage guesthouse where the final scenes will be played out. The guesthouse belongs to David Martin and his wife, acquaintances of Martin Bryant. It's rumoured that bad blood exists between Bryant and the Martins. The official version of events has it that the Martins were Bryant's first two victims earlier in the day but this isn't possible. At 10.40 AM, when Andrew Simmons and his wife Lynn were standing outside their house directly opposite the Seascape, they heard several shots coming from the guesthouse. It was around this time that Gary King, an employee at the Shell service station at Forcett, 58 kilometres away, remembers serving coffee to Martin Bryant.

The gunman takes his hostage into the Seascape and barricades himself in. Some time later the BMW is reported burning nearby. The Beamer was evidently torched by a policeman to prevent it being used as a getaway vehicle. This seems extreme though. What was wrong with the tried and trusted method of bullets in tyres? Could it have been rather to obliterate the fact that not one Martin Bryant fingerprint would be found on it?

Back at Port Arthur pandemonium rages like bushfire. Wendy Scurr had set up a triage system with her volunteer helpers. Curiously, but as a graphic illustration of what she has to live with, she blames herself to this day for abandoning a man as beyond help who against the odds continued to live and apparently still does. She describes a surreal scene of people kneeling in pools of blood, desperately trying to staunch the flow of it while at the same time another volunteer picked his way through the bedlam delivering cups of tea. Wendy and her helpers were working under extreme stress, not knowing where the shooter was, and expecting him to return at any moment. At around this time nerves must have almost snapped like rubber bands at the sound of three more rifle-shots. Later examination of the time-line revealed that at this exact time the swathe of death had already come to halt at the Seascape Cottage. So who fired the three shots at Port Arthur? It remains part of the fog of mystery.

Feeling naturally under imminent threat of execution, Wendy and her people had desperately being trying to contact police even as they fought to save lives. No police arrived. Then the sound of a helicopter landing raised hopes and turned the tide of draining courage. The chopper though dropped off only two police officers then quickly returned to Hobart. Wendy says these police were unarmed but as all Australian police sport side arms, she apparently means they were lacking the type of weaponry needed to take on someone armed with assault rifles. The officers did the best they could to help. No police arrived in force until six hours after the slaughter began although ambulances were beginning to arrive. The tardiness of the police presence is inexplicable except for two alternatives: either those in charge were consumed by an inordinate concern for the safety of their brothers in arms, or they were responding to pressure to stay away from the crime scene until the perpetrator/s had gained safety. Neither reflects well on Tasmania Police.


When Walter Mikac arrived and saw the bodies of his wife and two little girls, his reaction was predictable: he was instantly transformed into someone else, someone howling, crying, deranged, beyond reach.

The police surrounded the Seascape Cottage just before nightfall and settled in for a siege that would last until the return of daylight. As there was no way in or out, and Martin Bryant would stagger on fire from the blazing building in the morning, it was obvious that he was inside the guesthouse at this point. It is though incomprehensible why Bryant, who had apparently been smart enough to decoy police away from Port Arthur, wasn't smart enough to flee the area altogether given the incredible length of time it had taken for appropriately equipped police to arrive. But who else was inside beside Bryant and his supposed hostage? There had to be at least one other person because at the very same time that Bryant was calmly talking to police by phone, rifle shots were ringing out from the same location - at least 20 in total as recorded in the negotiator's tapes. As Bryant would have been flat out chewing gum and tying his shoes up at the same time, who was doing the shooting? At least 250 shots were fired from the Seascape that night. No-one was hit.

As foreshadowed, the Seascape went up in flames at around 8.15 in the morning. Who set fire to it. Bryant? Even to someone with an IQ as low as his, it would not have made a great deal of sense to set fire to the building inside which you happen to be residing. The police? If so, this would appear to be just a little bit rash given there was a hostage inside. Martin emerged with the clothes on his back on fire. This is unusual for someone escaping from a burning building. Usually the flames are more evenly distributed. Was Bryant lying face down on a floor, perhaps drugged, when the fire started, only to be awoken by the pain of his back burning? If this was, in contradiction of the lone nut theory, in fact a conspiracy, it would obviously have been much more convenient for Bryant to have died in the fire.

The bulk of the information related here is taken from two main sources: Deadly Deception at Port Arthur, by the late Joe Vialls, a freelance investigative journalist, and Deceit and Terrorism, by Andrew MacGregor, a former Victoria policeman. Although disagreeing on several fundamental points, both books raise profoundly disturbing questions and come to the same conclusions: Port Arthur was the result of a complex conspiracy and that the name, Martin Bryant should rate alongside Lee Harvey Oswald's as a synonym for the American word, patsy. Contrary to the open and shut case conducted by the media, not one shred of DNA, ballistic or fingerprint evidence links Bryant to the crime.

After examining the cases presented by both writers, particularly Vialls, it is impossible to believe that Bryant was the shooter in the Broad Arrow Cafe. It could be said that the real perpetrators outsmarted themselves and made a grievous mistake in employing a killer with such lethal efficiency. Indeed, as Vialls emphasises, the skills demonstrated in the cafe would be possessed by only a handful of Special Forces types world-wide. The shooter, it will be remembered, was firing from the hip and spinning while correcting from the recoil with every shot. Bryant is left-handed. He had had no military training. His firearms experience had been limited to knocking a few cans off a fence with a single shot Webley Osprey, firing from the shoulder, as most do to have any chance of hitting anything.

It will also be remembered that nearly all the victims in the Broad Arrow were shot in the head. This would also be the result of special military training, taking into consideration the possibility of adversaries wearing bullet-proof vests. Coincidentally, the dimensions of the cafe were very similar to the spaces in which such outfits as the US Navy Seals and Delta Force practise diffusing hostage situations.

Bryant never had a trial. Even if he had, the possibility of a fair one would have been beyond him as his photo had been flashed world-wide and was appearing on TV screens virtually before the gun-smoke had cleared. This was an outrageous example of witness identification being corrupted. It is for this very reason that police usually go to extreme lengths to prevent such an occurrence. Although the photo was obtained through dubious means, no-one was ever charged or even reprimanded.

Initially, Bryant steadfastly pleaded not guilty. For a mass murderer, virtually caught red-handed to be pleading not guilty seemed remarkable at the time, but then again, in the anger and confusion most were accepting the accounting at face value. In spite of being kept in solitary confinement for long periods, Bryant continued to plead not guilty for five months. His original barrister then mysteriously resigned to be replaced by John Avery, who, to paraphrase Andrew MacGregor, immediately began working for the Prosecution by badgering Bryant to change his plea to guilty. Bryant still held out. According to Tasmanian reporter, Mike Bingham, it was only after Bryant was visited by his mother and told that unless he pleaded guilty to spare her the pain of a trial, both she and Bryant's sister, Lindy, would commit suicide, that he caved in.

Adding to Bryant's egregious denial of justice was no less than the Prime Minister who urged that no Coronial Inquiry be held, ostensibly to spare those involved the pain it may cause. As a barrister he would have been in no doubt that this was highly prejudicial to the case of someone charged with any crime. This was nothing short of an act of contempt as it is defined. Radio commentators have been gaoled for less. Howard of course wasn't. Australian law dictates that a crime involving the deaths of foreigners, as this one did, necessitates a Coronial Inquiry.

Both Vialls and MacGregor add many strange pieces to the jigsaw puzzle, perhaps the strangest being the procurement by the Tasmanian government shortly before the massacre of a mortuary truck capable of carrying 22 bodies - the only one of its kind in Australia. Why would one be needed in tiny Tasmania, probably the least violent, most uneventful state in the Federation? It was sold several years after the massacre, apparently having served its purpose. Here is the advertisement that appeared on the internet in September 1999:

Vehicle for Sale.
Genuine Enquiries only.
Yellow Chevrolet 350 V8 truck with refrigerated body, holds 22, this vehicle was primarily used as the disaster vehicle in the Port Arthur Massacre. This vehicle is currently for sale and all reasonable offers will be considered. The vehicle has value as not only a refrigerated unit for body removal, it is the only one of its kind in the entire country. The "memorabilia" value of it for anyone making a movie/series or writing a book on Port Arthur is limitless. Not only would the purchaser be getting the disaster vehicle, but the whole Port Arthur Story would be given as well.
This vehicle is currently for sale and all REASONABLE OFFERS will be considered.
Email cwright@trump.net.au

In May 1996, Tim Fisher, the then Deputy Prime Minister said something singularly strange. Addressing a meeting of professional shooters in Alice Springs, he said, "If we don't get it right this time, the next time there is a massacre, and there will be, they'll take all our guns of us." As it transpired, we did get it "right". 400,000 rifles were handed in and destroyed - not stored in case our almost non-existent defence forces needed help in defending the country, but pulped. It required merely the deaths of 35 people and the wounding of another 22.

But who were "they"? This seems to imply a force or power external to Australia. Is this how our government was cowed into obfuscation and cover-up? Was it blackmailed? Would the terms have been along the lines of "either disarm your population or expect mass killings until you do"?

Understandably, most people would reel away from this possibility in absolute horror and disbelief. But they should at least part the fingers across their eyes to look at least briefly with an unflinching gaze. If they were to do this would realise that the Port Arthur atrocity had all the hallmarks of a classic psy-ops in the parlance of those familiar with such exercises: psychological operation designed to attain political goals through terror. They are commonplace but the big ones stand out. The allowance of the bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Roosevelt gang in order to gain entry to World War Two is one. What was the sacrifice of 2,400 American citizens in the grand scheme of things? 911 was another - an obvious inside job, or "false flag" operation as its known in the trade. This effectively justified and facilitated an unprovoked attack against a sovereign nation. Port Arthur may one day be seen as our 911.

The white-hot, burning question remains: who was responsible? We'll probably never know. It's worth though considering certain realities. Disarmament is considered by the UN to be almost a holy crusade. They do not however mean the disarmament of nations - not yet anyway. First things first, and the first thing here is disarmament within nations. As the Stormtroop division for world government, this illustrious organisation is painfully aware that even though you can fool most of the people most of the time, there will always be a hard core of those who will not toe the line. Worse, they may inspire others to emulate them. As the heat from the blow-torch comes nearer, these intransigents who refuse to bow down will become more and more dangerous. Therefore, it is axiomatic that a prerequisite for world government will be universal disarmament of the citizenry.

But why Australia? As Graham L Strachan points out in his book, Globalisation: Demise of the Australian Nation, Australia is probably the most globalised nation on Earth, having effectively surrendered its economic sovereignty. He goes as far as to say that the country has become a kind of guinea pig - a test case. So far, we are passing that test with flying colours. Our 'government' will always do as its told.

It can't happen here no longer applies to Australia. We are no longer the cosy country safely insulated from the nastiness taking place in the rest of the world. If it can happen anywhere, it can happen here. Welcome to globalisation. Welcome to being seamlessly woven into the world-wide web of evil.

In memory of Joe Vialls
and the 35 killed at Port Arthur



http://www.biblebelievers.org.au/palies1.htm
http://www.nogw.com/download/_07_port_arthur_coverup.pdf
http://www.2012.com.au/DAT.html
http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread515668/pg1

WHERE ARE THE GIRLS?

This is the time-honoured enquiry made by young men arriving at a party where the presence of the opposite sex isn't immediately apparent. The same enquiry may also be made in relation to the glaringly apparent absence of the fairer sex in what the media like to term 'the extreme right wing of Australian politics'. What is meant by this is nationalism.

If the right to left political continuum could be colour-coded - blue for boys and pink for girls - the right end would be a deep blue, the centre would be lilac, and on the left would be a fair amount of pink speckling. If validation of this theory were needed one would only need to attend, say, a meeting of International Socialists, and then visit a meeting of anti-immigration enthusiasts and compare the results. At the Nuremberg-like, mother of all get-togethers of over-enthusiastic anti-immigration enthusiasts at a certain beach-side locality several years ago, only a sprinkling of pink petals bobbed in a swirling sea of testosterone. Why is it so? as an eccentric, televised scientist used to ask as the experiment gave the repeatable result yet again.

A quick search of the internet reveals a depressing lack of research into this phenomenon. This perhaps could be ground-breaking investigation. A premise this exploration will assume, much to the chagrin of feminists who constitute many of pink sprinkles on the left (so it doesn't matter) is that there are fundamental differences between the sexes apart from the obvious physical ones. The physical differences being so pronounced, it should not surprise that men and women also inhabit different mental worlds. Biology is destiny (this is fingernails scraping on a blackboard to Feminists).


Why would it be that the Left is attractive to females? For starters, that is where Feminism is situated on the political spectrum. It should be borne in mind that we are discussing here the New Left - not the musty old Left that died with history's failure to conform to the prediction of capitalism's collapse, not to mention the collapse of its home in the Soviet Union. What we are indeed concerned with here is the New Left. Along with Feminism as its star recruit, the New Left is concerned with every shade and hue of 'social justice', with perhaps the sole exception of the injustices still suffered by white, working class men. They evidently ended up in the dust and rubble with the Old Left. High ranking union officials like to pretend that that isn't the case, but to paraphrase the once lovely Mandy Rice Davies, they would, wouldn't they - given their pampered, jet-setting life styles.

Within the Left there is a curious twist. Notwithstanding its thorny, knotty nature, it was resolved with silk-like smoothness. How it was done must remain one of nature's impenetrable secrets. The conundrum was the towering contradiction posed by Feminism's strident defence of 'women's rights' confronted by the Left's general championing of multiculturalism which, by definition, had to include the brutal trampling of women's rights that is the hallmark of our growing Islamic sub-culture. Without discussion, without riotous, blood-spilling committee meetings, this issue seemed to be resolved the way a flock of birds suddenly, without communication, decides to change direction. This pocket of resistance was quietly surrendered to the enemy. Multiculturalism trumped Feminism. Like the pedophile uncle, this matter is never discussed.

With its perennial and 'selfless' concern for society's victims, it is perhaps only natural for the Left to be a lure to women who after all are the carers and nurturers of the race. This should not be a controversial statement but in a world sadly turned upside down, it is. How though could they not be carers and nurturers by nature given the role they play in the incubation and care of the race's new arrivals. Unfortunately this natural bent has been exploited many times over for commercial and political gain. The historically low wages and poor conditions of nurses is an obvious example. Using women to inspire men go to war is another. If woman, who is a gentle pacifist by nature, is urging men to go to war, that war must be an entirely just and unavoidable enterprise.

There are of course exceptions to the rule. Our self-styled antipodean Joan of Arc, Pauline Hanson, personified that exception. It could possibly be argued though that it was precisely because of her rarity as a woman on the wrong side of the political tracks that she became such star - a created star at that - created by the media which once they had discovered that the creation was a monster, did their level best to kill it.

While Pauline's trajectory was arcing across the firmament, a parallel career was virtually flat-lining below it. This was the challenge extended to the political establishment by Graham Campbell, a rogue Labor Party politician and former minister who continued to hold the federal seat of Kalgoorlie as an Independent. Campbell was immensely experienced and was loaded with the concomitant political savvy. He was saying most of the same things as Hanson, only much more intelligently, but because of his being ignored by the media and 'starved of oxygen', be died a slow, political death.

Scientific fact: whereas men think predominantly with the brain's left hemisphere - the home of cold hard logic - a woman's thinking is shared evenly between the left and the right hemisphere which is where we are thinking when we are said to be thinking with the heart. To present a hypothesis, which admittedly would be extremely difficult to test, we need a lifeboat packed with passengers who've just escaped a sinking ship. In the water surrounding the boat other survivors are struggling, screaming for help and trying to get into the boat. If those already in the boat were all female, the struggling unfortunates would be helped into the boat. If those in the boat were all male, it would be quickly realised that if any more were allowed to board the boat it would sink and no-one would have any chance of survival. Accordingly, steps would be taken to prevent that eventuality even if it meant smashing heads with oars. The left side of the brain would be whirring with rationalisations about the greater good. The monster of a moral dilemma is neatly resolved. The ladies' boat is headed for the bottom.

In modern times though, it must be admitted, women have toughened up, but largely in the wrong direction through having been led up the garden path by Feminism. Most women, at least to some degree, have been affected by what has been called 'an ideology of pure selfishness'. While initially addressing long standing injustices, it veered off, once the injustices had been for all intents and purposes remedied, into where all causes based on victim-hood end up: in a perpetual war against a largely non-existent enemy. The non-existent enemy in this case was of course men - all men. The energy this struggle sapped from women left little to be used in the fight against real enemies. The all pervading 'awareness' of 'patriarchy' and men in general as the oppressors left little room on the mental screen for projecting the image of a tyrannical, global elite hell-bent on usurping the natural rights of men and women everywhere, and busting nations in an insane pursuit of transforming the world into one, great serfdom.

To be sure, that this could be happening, at first sight, seems so breathtakingly incredible that it is not difficult to see why it is dismissed by so many as paranoid delusion. That this perception could be easily swept aside by means of even the most rudimentary research - needing of course motivation in the first place - goes without saying. But perhaps a more important aid in lifting the curtain on what is coming is a capacity for abstract thinking - the ability to see what isn't. Judging by the huge male preponderance in the fields of philosophy and invention, it may not be too outrageous to claim that men may be just a little more gifted than women in this department. (Before the high-heeled shoes begin being thrown, the much fabled women's intuition is duly noted.)

To be able to see what isn't, one needs to be able to extrapolate from what is, as well as current trends (especially when those trends show no sign of ever stopping or changing course) to see what will be. Agreeing in advance to the obvious poor value of anecdotal evidence, strong motivation urges the inclusion of just one small sliver. When a young, intelligent woman was told that Australia's current immigration policies would eventually lead to Australians becoming a minority in their own country, she was scornful. 'Do you really think that could ever possibly happen? she wanted to know. Because Australia since its settlement has been an essentially white country, she was assuming, notwithstanding rolling breakers of third world immigration, that it would always be so. To someone extrapolating from current trends it was obvious that it wouldn't.












The same woman apologises profusely whenever expressing anything that could even remotely be construed as a 'racist' sentiment. Whenever this happens, one cannot escape the feeling that this reaction is identical to that of a religious person on letting slip a heresy. This leads to another possible reason why women are essentially uninterested in nationalism.

To anyone with experience of raising or teaching girls it would be readily apparent that they are different to boys - in terms of their being better behaved - girls good, boys bad. When girls turn into women they retain their predilection for being good and being perceived as good. It's not for nothing that they have been termed 'God's police'. When, for example, Western society was still strongly influenced by moral values, the demarcation line between 'good' girls and 'bad' girls was as clearly defined as the 38th parallel on the Korean peninsular. Many's the man who married the girl of his dreams simply because it was the only way to fulfill that dream in the carnal sense.

Times sure have changed but maybe not in women's still wanting to be good in whatever way society deems 'good'. With media, the education system, the churches, governments and bureaucracies lecturing us to the point of hypnotism on the evils of nationalism, and even worse, being concerned about your race, is it any wonder women may be tempted to avoid this yawning den of iniquity? To some women, being seen leaving one of these nests of nationalist malcontents would probably be worse than being seen leaving a house of ill repute.

On the other hand, there is evidently a sizable proportion of the male population who don't mind being seen as 'bad boys', in fact even reveling in it. This is perhaps where most of society's rebels have come from. This might be where we should be looking for nationalists - provided they have the additional attributes of a capacity for independent thinking and a store of moral courage.

So now at least we might have some idea of why the girls are missing from the party. However, as Mr Marx (not Groucho) so succinctly put it: 'The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways. The point however, is to change it." How do we get the girls to the party?

Angelic, gentle, pure and sweet is how man has seen woman since even when she was covered in primeval mud. But she also has another side, hidden most of the time but nevertheless only quietly dozing. It is terrible and frightening. But how to awaken it?
What does she care about more than anything else in the world - even the one who thinks he is number one? It is of course her children. It is for these she will fight like a tigress, and if necessary, gladly die.

It must somehow be communicated to the women of this country that the future is extremely uncertain at best, and as perilous as a battlefield at worse. A dark future, perhaps difficult to see now, is nevertheless heading toward us with gathering speed. As individuals more concerned with shopping, celebrity antics and soap operas than with the survival of our race we are lost. Atomised, the way those who think they own us want us, as we are invaded by those who think and act as collectively as bees in a hive, we have no chance. Our children have no chance. As they come to adulthood in a country that should have been theirs but find instead the ruins of a collapsed tower of Babel where they are the objects of scorn of a hundred different tribes they will scream their rage and pain into the wind: 'Why were we betrayed so? Why such a miserable inheritance?'

By a strange twist of synchronicity, as this essay was nearing completion, the perfect ending was stumbled upon. Provided by F. Roger Devlin in "The ‘Reafricanization’ of the West", American Renaissance, June 2008, it cannot be improved upon.


'Many racially conscious whites worry about the absence of women in our ranks, but I believe they have it backwards. We do not need women on our side to succeed politically; we need to succeed politically to have women on our side. As soon as we start winning, the ladies will find our arguments plausible, our faces handsome, and our jokes witty. Direct political action by women is not part of the European tradition; respect for the vital female role in the family is. When we have done our work, they will gladly do theirs: bear our race’s children.'
(http://www.amren.com/ar/2008/06/index.html)

WE'VE ASKED FOR THIS

At the official level, reactions to this offensive Indian newspaper cartoon that equates Victorian police with the Ku Klux Klan have been varied. Our red-headed acting Prime Minister is positively flaming with outrage according to ABC news of 8/1/10: "Any suggestion of that kind is deeply deeply offensive to the police officers involved and I would absolutely condemn the making of a comment like that," Ms Gillard said. The Victorian police were equally unimpressed. Mr Cameron, the Victorian Police Commissioner said, "This is just terrible ... Victoria Police is a very tolerant organisation and Victoria is a very tolerant state. To suggest that Victoria Police is racist is just plain wrong and it's offensive to the good police we have here in Victoria." Hear, hear Ms Gillard and Mr Cameron. It is about time our officials broke the reflex habit of simply hanging their heads even lower in shame than customary whenever Australia was accused of being a racist country. The Victorian Opposition leader, Ted Baillieu, however seemed to be slipping back into the default mode of appeasement with his contribution: " ... the cartoon is unhelpful, but [I] can understand the anger in the Indian community".

The death of the Indian student in Melbourne that has reignited the issue of Indian nationals being ill treated in Australia is of course tragic. But then again so were the deaths of the Australians in the 2008 terror attacks in Mumbai, for which incidentally, we didn't blame all of India for something that was beyond their control, which conversely is what is happening now. Bad things happen.

The world class knee jerk reaction taking place in India is to automatically put the blame for the students death, as well as the assaults that occurred last year, onto us notoriously racism-maddened white devils. This is understandable given that people overseas, when thinking of Australians, invariably think of real Australians.

It is yet though to be established who killed the student, the killer's race or the motive. If the earlier crimes committed against Indians in Australia are any indication, there is a better than fifty per cent chance that the killer wasn't a white Australian. Last year's trouble was caused by Indians allegedly encroaching on the 'territory' of Lebanese Muslims who in turn dealt swift retribution.

Historically, there does not appear to be any love lost between Hindus and Muslims. Of those with any knowledge of the 'Partition' of 1947, who could forget those border-crossing trains arriving at Pakistani and Indian stations with packed carriages gushing blood?

But such was the blind faith - that could only be described as religious - of the engineers of Australian multiculturalism who believed they could perform the miracle of bringing to Australia people who would sooner tear each others throats out as soon as look at each other, yet embracing each other like party-goers on Ecstasy as soon as they landed. Perhaps it had something to do with what they were really putting in those aerosol cans being used to spray the passengers of the jets as they dropped down through the Australian clouds.

More than twenty five years ago Professor Geoffrey Blainey predicted such developments as those now involving the Australian Indian community having serious diplomatic ramifications.
He actually went further. To paraphrase, he foresaw an event such as a powerful nation sending forces into Australia in response to perceived brutality being committed against its nationals or racial kin in Australia. This is not such a far-fetched scenario; it has historical precedents, one of the most notable being Hitler's invasion of Czechoslovakia in response to the alleged ill treatment of Sudetenland's ethnic Germans. Whether the ill treatment is a pretext or not matters little to the country that has been invaded.

Of course in India there is very little understanding of racism. It's very rare - about as rare as a Chicken Tandoori. 'The [Indian] ... doth protest too much, me thinks.' Taking the high moral ground, it might be hoped, raises him above the rankest hypocrisy. India, for centuries, has been riven by religious, class, caste and racial conflict. Its class system is colour-coded with the lighter skinned rising to the top while those at the other end of the spectrum such as the coal-black Tamils sink to the bottom.

We were given the briefest of insights into this mentality when an Australian non-white cricketer was constantly called a monkey by Indian cricket crowds and even by at least one Indian cricketer. (This may have been what drove him to drink.)

India's 160 million 'harijans', as they were called by Ghandi - better known to us as 'untouchables' are so despised they barely make it into the category of human being. In the caste system they do not even make it on to the first rung of the ladder. When they die, they are not worth the cost of a cremation and even if the wherewithal could be raised it would be frowned upon because cremating someone lacking a soul would be considered a form of sacrilege. At the ancient, holy city of Varanasi on the Ganges where the constantly performed cremations earn the departed a release from the wheel of birth, death and rebirth, the bodies of untouchables are simply flung into the river for the vultures that are quick to spot a free feed.

This attack on us by India is a most egregious case of the pot calling the kettle black. It is however a type of poetic justice after years of sack-cloth wearing and self-flagellation over our terrible, racist past and the constant implied begging for forgiveness from our coloured, northern brothers. Can we really begrudge a few free kicks such as might be aimed at a man who flings himself to the ground as soon as the fight begins?


A damaged church, seen in the village of Raikia, India, after it was allegedly stormed by Hindu fundamentalists, on August 31, 2008. Indian authorities insisted they had halted deadly clashes between Hindus and Christians in the east of the country that have exposed it to stinging criticism. At least 10 people have died and thousands have fled their homes as a result of the violence in the coastal state of Orissa, with the Catholic church accusing police of failing to protect defenceless priests and nuns.