RED OVER BLACK

Red Over Black: Behind the Aboriginal Land Rights is the title of a book written first published in 1982 but even more pertinent today given  insistent demands for "Recognition" and a treaty being even greater threats to continued Australian unity than ever before.

The book's extraordinary value is lies in the background of the the author, Geoff Macdonald, writing as a lapsed Communist, being formerly a  high-flyer in the now defunct Communist Party of Australia (CPA) and intimately conversant with the methods and machinations of this Stalinist organisation Down Under, the most tried and trusted of which was the always reliable divide and conquer tactic.

Adding to his credentials as an authority on the subject he tackles is his many years experience in Central Australia where he represented the Royal Australian Nurses Federation, naturally having wide contact with the white nurses selflessly forsaking the comforts of city living, and the mostly full-blooded Aborigines to whom they ministrated. His obvious affection for both groups shines through the pages.

Red Over Black shows how in taking up the cudgel for Australian Blacks, the actions of the CPA were similar indeed to the way in which American Jews championed the rights of US Blacks, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) being founded and staffed almost solely by Jews. In both cases, the motivation was in fact not out of love for the supposedly downtrodden but rather the pursuit of a hidden agenda. Its not known how many members of the CPA were Jews but given the historical precedents of Jews swarming to the political philosophy invented by their kinsman, an over-representation could be fairly assumed.

MacDonald joined the CPA in 1948 as a callow but idealistic eighteen year old. As an example of  rapid- fire geopolitical transformation illustrated so well by Orwell, affable Uncle Joe Stalin had only a few years earlier been switched to being the successor of Hitler as the AntiChrist. However, the CPA was still enjoying the the lingering boost to Communism given by the Soviets being our gallant ally (the most atrocious mass rape since the hordes of Ghengis Khan rolled over the Steppes being conveniently ignored if not hidden).

He evidently showed promise because within a relatively short time he was being "educated" at the party's secret training centre in Minto NSW. It was here some time later in 1959 that he first came into contact with two leading Communists of the era, JB Miles and Lance Sharkey, and it was from them that he learned that in order to bring about a red Australian republic, the first major step needed to be a splitting off of an aboriginal republic. Stirring up a crusade for aboriginal land rights was the method by which this was to be eventually achieved.

 Because a revolution was completely out of the question in conservative, relatively well off Australia, the type of "gradualism" honed to perfection by Fabian Socialists was deemed to be perfectly suited to achieving the same result. Patiently settling in for the long haul has shown proven results. As an example of how well "gradualism" can work, one only has to note the eventual creation of the basically socialist EU which was originally presented to the unsuspecting European people as the simple Common Market. Who could argue with such a concept when told that the rising synergistic tide created by free trade within this organisation would lift all boats and and rain gold over all involved? Downside? (loss of national sovereignty perhaps?) Why, none at all.

MacDonald was also to learn of how the party, driven by ideological fanaticism, was at the forefront of tearing apart the White Australia policy. Again, the ultimate aim was to produce discord, disharmony and as much damage as possible to Australian nationalism, nationalism being seen as a despised obstacle to communist internationalism.

Curiously though, the party was opposed to large parts of the great refugee programme offering Australia as a new home to some of the "displaced persons" wandering stunned amongst the ruins of a Europe shattered by the war.  It viewed with particular suspicion, for example, the "Balts" because of their perceived affinity with fascism. If the party had've had its way, it would have sorted the European refugees into those amenable or receptive to their philosophy and those that weren't, the latter not being allowed entry.

It would later have no disagreement with non-European immigrants except perhaps the perceived right wingers fleeing triumphant Vietnamese communists. The party was essentially colour blind, hardly surprising when class struggle was seen as the engine of history - class and not race was what mattered. This goes a long way  toward  explaining  how Australian whites would have been perfectly happy to see perhaps as much as a half of the Australian continent hived off into a red aboriginal republic. As long as people were communist, they could be any colour.

It was at Minto that MacDonald began to make sense of Marxist dialectics. He wondered for instance at the seeming contradiction of the party being vehemently opposed to South African Apartheid, while energetically trying to fashion what would essentially be the same thing in Australia. Dialectics is best explained as a system of thought that can accommodate glaring contradictions like this by focusing on the supreme good and the supreme good was the victory of communism. It is of course no secret that the driving force behind the destruction of Apartheid in South Africa was communism, the terrorist Mandela himself as well as his ANC being thoroughly Marxist indoctrinated. To sum up Marxist dialectics, the Good can be found by asking, is it good for communism? In this, Marxism is almost a twin of Judaism/Zionism, which shouldn't surprise considering the impressive overlap. Marxists ask, is it good for communism? Jews ask, is it good for Jews.

MacDonald was also intrigued to find out how much leftist tentacles had reached out to infiltrate churches, especially the World Council of Churches (WCC). He discloses how "Mick" Miller, another prominent Australian Marxist of the time was financed by the WCC while he was claiming to represent Aborigines through the North Queensland Land Council. In MacDonald's reincarnation as an anti-Communist he states that "Mister Miller represents only himself and a small number of radical activists." Radical activists, it goes without saying are invariably city-bred fair-skins, and this was while genuine spokesmen for Aborigines were all but ignored. On a separate occasion,  not long after holding its Central Committee meeting in communist East Germany, the WCC awarded 56,000 dollars to Autralian "Aboriginal organisations". This arrangement was almost identical to the marriage between Marxism and Christianity for which large swathes of South America became famous.

In a similar vein in a later part of the book, he writes, "... full blood Aborigines in the Northern Territory constantly complained of the whites and part-Aborigines who were continually meddling in their lives and acting as imposters because of a wrong authority given them by the Federal Government." These "imposters" even physically assaulted them when they tried to attend church. "Go back to the old ways," they were ordered.

In a major U turn from two thousand years of Christian teaching, churchmen were also discouraging Aborigines from attending church and were as well adivising that the old ways were best for them, regardless of the old ways - in strict compliance with the Malthusian assertion that population is limited by food supply - guaranteeing that even after many thousands of years the Aboriginal population probably never exceeded 300,000.  McDonald quotes historian, Geoffrey Blainey in elaborating on the dire result of ecological pressure: " the conclusion seems inescapable: over a long span of time millions of newborn Aboriginals must have been deliberately killed by their mother or father. Infanticide was almost certainly the strongest check on the increase of  the population of Aboriginals". Similarly, the old and the lame would simply be abandoned.

 Hunters and gatherers are particularly vulnerable to the deadly effects of droughts which in Australia are more normal than abnormal. And even though evil whites are invariable found guilty of introducing diseases to the "noble savage" in his halcyon idyll, the reality was that the land was long ravaged by disease. The effects were compounded by the superstitious beliefs of Aborigines causing sickness to be viewed as a the result of a curse directed by an enemy. The squaring-up added to the pile of bodies left by the disease. This was the life radical, mixed-race communists and leftists with a hot-line to heaven were urging Aborigines to return to.

Mainly due to lack of interest after the implosion of the Soviet Union, the CPA folded its tent in 1991. Naturally though, that didn't mean the end of Marxism in Australia - just a shape-shift into Cultural Marxism, basically what was left of the main body after jettisoning the ecomomic mumbo jumbo which had sunk the Soviets. It was quieter, much more subtle and far more palatable to a greatly increased range of people who would have felt faint in the face of the old ham-fisted communism. This was the crowd who now ran with the baton of social justice, especially "justice" for Aborigines, appearing not to notice how much had already been achieved for them - by foul means or fair.

The Australian people had essentially been hoodwinked in the lead-up to the 1967 referendum, purportedly to amend article 127 of the constitution which ahd failed to include Aborigines in the political process via a vote. That they hadn't been given a vote before this because of the near impossibility of providing ballot boxes to nomads was lost in the hyteria over white racism being the alleged real reason for the franchise not being extended to them.

That white Australia had a bountiful store of good will toward their black counterparts was demonstrated by 90.77% voting in favour of the Aboriginal right to vote. The quiet rider in the referendum though was the second question regarding an amendment of article 51: "The Parliament shall, subject to this constitution, have power to make laws for the peace, order and good government of the Commonwealth with respect to: [section 26] The people of any race, other than the aboriginal people in any state for whom it is necessary to make special laws." [emphasis added]

Oddly, no attempt was made to clarify what this actually meant, so it is not surprising that voters saw this as yet another slight to Aborigines which needed rectifying. How could they have known that this provision had been aimed negatively at races considered problematic at the time of Federation - people of uncertain status at the fringes of Australian society such as Chinese and Kanaka non-citizens with an eye to a potential need to decree where such people could live and at what jobs they could work? The exclusion of Aborigines from this was in fact protection against their being affected by this law. The opposite perception though naturally led to this having having to be ditched along with the prohibition of the aboriginal vote.

How could they also have known that the amendment of 51 that they voted for, after including Aborigines in the purview of "special laws" would convert the original negative potential effects to potential positive effects for Aborigines for whom laws could be passed but which could not be passed for the general population. Ergo, the land rights that communists, half white radicals and fellow travellers had agitated for so determinedly began springing to fruition like mushrooms after a rainstorm.

The magic of once having achieved victim status is that the ending of grievances perpetually recedes like a mirage on the horizon. At the time Red Over Black was first published, land being claimed by Aborigines extended over 738,032 square kilometres of Australia's total land mass. "This vests 9.6 per cent of land in 1.2 per cent of the population, and the national total could rise even further ..." Macdonald writes. And it has.

But it's still not enough. In referring to  "the now redundant eyesore that is the Aboriginal Tent Embassy in Canberra ...", a Mister David Davies had this to say in a recent letter he wrote to Sydney's Sunday Telegraph, "... We have the Native Title Act. We have had a national parliamentary apology. We have an annual Sorry Day and NAIDOC Week. We both recognise and rejoice with indigenous citizens achieving their best. But can we not also be mature and willing enough to admit that the good of our first peoples is not now predominantly dictated by past sins, present racism or outstanding land claims, but by culturally self-inflicted wounds? ..."

We are now well and truly into the zone of diminishing returns. In fact white Australia is perilously close to crossing into the black from the red in the ledger of good will toward Aborigines. Expecting people to continue giving when they've given their all and are still being excoriated for past sins to not become resentful is the dream of someone asleep at the wheel while driving through reality. Further insatiable demands can only be counter-productive for Aborigines. The deep well of good will displayed by white Australia in 1967 is rapidly drying up  Reaction awaits in the wings. It's called human nature.

The current demand is for "recognition" and a treaty. Whatever "recognition" means, we have a clear idea of the meaning of the word treaty. The Concise Oxford Dictionary has this to say: "Treaty: formally concluded and ratified agreement between states." [emphasis added] Needless to say, an aboriginal "state" has never existed. The words, absurd, ridiculous, nonsensical are simply not up to the job in describing a treaty between whites and Aborigines.

The British settled the land that would become Australia on the legal basis of Terra nullius (nobody's land). This is now of course bitterly contested, the argument being that it was somebody's land, willfully ignoring the original intended sense of there being no-one, no organisation, no state with whom to deal - only a relatively small number of wandering hunters and gatherers. However for argument's sake let it be conceded that Terra nullius doesn't hold up. That leaves only conquest as the legal basis for British settlement. A treaty in the sense of one drawn up between warring parties with a view to end the conflict (such as the 1845 Waitangi treaty between New Zealand Maories and the British) is not something appealed to in the case of conquest, allowing that isolated skirmishes over isolated grievances constituted an actual war. Conquest in fact abrogates entirely the need for a treaty. Calling for a treaty more than two hundred years after the non-war is several orders of magnitude even more ridiculous.

But contiuing the game of hypotheticals, let' say we've crossed over to the world of anti-reality and a treaty is drawn up and signed. Would this mean that by implication aboriginal Australia, albeit scattered, disorganised and the opposite of monolitic, has become a state and thereby realised the dream of the communists? Probably not. That would have to be the next step. And given that once a group or subculture has attained victim status, relinguishing this status would be tantamount to killing the golden goose, (for example who would dare suggest that, now that homosexuals have been granted the right to marry, no more demands for "rights" will somehow be conjured up?) there will of course be a next step.

"Assume a virtue, if you have it not." So said Shakespeare through the mouth of Hamlet. A reasonable interpretation of this might be that the assumption will eventually become the reality. By appealing to a supranational body such as World Government in waiting, the UN, such as has been done long ago by the likes of the fair-skinned communist radical, Gary Foley, quite a bit of assuming was being done - so much so that one could be forgiven for thinking Foley already represented a separate sovereign state.

Fortunately though, with the UN still being much more than the paper tiger than the tyrannical giant its founders envisioned it to be, Foley was pretty much relieving himself into the wind. But what if, even if only  on paper, some kind of large autonomous aboriginal body was one day formed, and representatives of that body - which they have begun calling a republic - actually appealed for help to a foreign body with a little more fire-power than the UN? That foreign body could hypothetically be a national government - one like China's for example which, again purely hypothetically, has taken umbrage at the way it perceives the huge number of Chinese in Australia being mistreated. Listen once again to McDonald: "As we have shown, the call for a treaty was an invention of white radicals. It has been equally so with regard to predictions of violence and international support with military aid, or what they sometimes call 'physical' support from other countries. The tranlation of 'physical' is military aid from outside the country."

As already noted, push-back will eventuall arrive. But why hasn't it come sooner - much, much sooner? Here's an outsider's take on our paralysing, national neurosis: "Today's Australian schoolchildren are taught that whatever its present virtues, their nation was founded on genocide and theft. The fact that those original colonial forces were also white and European makes the act unsurpassably worse than it would be were the story the equally familiar one of dark-skinned peoples taking land from other dark-skinned peoples." (Coincidentally, an accumulating body of evidence points to this actually having happened in Australia long ago.)

Moreover, "But for Australians the historic treatment of the Aborigines ... is a subject that has in recent decades moved from the margins of public debate to the core - to the country's deepest founding sin. Strangely, this narrative of guilt seems actually desired and welcomed by Australian society."*

The writer, Douglas Murray, is completely on the money. Unless we break out of this trance and stop wallowing in guilt like the nation of masochists we've become, the destruction of the Australian nation, originally planned by communists and carried on by cultural Marxists, will inexorably find its  Götterdämmerung. In this version though, there will be no renewal - not for anyone, not for comunists, not for bleeding hearts, not for dreamers, and not for Aborigines.

*The Strange Death of Europe, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2017

HOW THE WORLD ENDS

 

Anyone missing this priceless gem is being grievously deprived. Heartfelt thanks to On Target, 24/11/17 http://www.alor.org/
 

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK:

     This is How Our World Ends...By Peter West and Arnis Luks

This is the way the world ends...This is the way the world ends...

This is the way the world ends...Not with a bang but a whimper.

T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men,” (1925)

     " CURRENT SUMMARY

Let’s just think this through a bit, accepting that there was probably a lot of vote diddling, but the No side was too slow to jump on this when it occurred. So, the vast majority of Australians are supporting the undermining of an institution as old as humanity itself. The vast majority of Australians openly accept cultural Marxism. Don’t tell me otherwise, for the arguments opposing this were out there, even though the No side did not get a fair hearing.

        WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Wallace Klink, writing in On Target, 10 November, 2017 summed it all up concisely, and his words are wellworth repeating again:"

“The more blatant recent militant effort to establish homosexuality, transgenderism, etc. as the new norm for society, of which the larger part is to be bullied by legal and administrative harassment should they prefer to distance themselves from this anomaly, has a sinister pedigree and far-reaching implications. It derives from communist revolutionary ideology promoted by organizations such as the ultra radical Marxist Frankfurt School which has, while the somnolent masses were sleeping, for decades been insinuating into the educational system its corrosive ideas and influence, so as to shape the thinking of a whole generation of young people without

them even suspecting what was being done to condition their minds.

 The Western Nations, were considered to be incapable of making a Revolution for themselves, so it was decided to do it for them by subversive social transformation, i.e., Cultural Marxism. The Frankfurt School was dedicated to the utter destruction of ‘exploitative bourgeois capitalist society’. This involved establishment of a rigidly egalitarian or equalitarian social order—something which obviously could be attempted only by force,administered via the State. The Frankfurt ideologues and strategists envisaged a world of imposed ‘equality’ as a general foundational principle. Men and women were to become ‘equal’ and to this end the family would have to be destroyed as the greatest obstacle to their policy. Marriage itself, with its implied values of ‘fidelity’ had therefore to be eliminated and children were to be raised by the State which would indoctrinate them without ‘corrupting bourgeois’ parental opposition or influence. Such was (is) the ‘Brave New World’ envisaged by the Frankfurt School, erected upon the new Religion of Equality. 

Never mind that such a world would be founded on envy and create social and economic stasis, which universal equality by its intrinsic nature inevitably would produce—even if it were possible—which, of course, being an abstract Utopian conception it is not. Communism professes to be scientific materialism—founded on pure reason, unimpeded by ‘irrational bourgeois sentimentality’.

This cold-blooded dogma permitted their fanatical leaders and indoctrinated followers to liquidate something in the order of one-hundred millions of innocent non-conformists and recalcitrants over the past century. When the new generation of radical legalists and bureaucrats come for your children, do not be surprised and do not

 expect any accommodation or mercy. The process is already well under way.” -

(Wallace Klinck)

Yes, the people are easily deceived, but so what, that is a constant. It will always be the thinking and active minority that moves things forward or restores ‘order’from chaos.

     Citizens Initiative Referenda and Recall (CIR)

This is dumocracy. All of those old salt Freedom Movement types basing their life essence on ‘We, the People’, (e.g. CIR), need to think again, because we really are dealing with sheeple here. The problem now is‘we the people’, and dysgenics:

https://www.amazon.com/

Dysgenics-Deterioration-Populations-Evolution-Intelligence/dp/0275949176 

We would not have anticipated that they would achieve all of their ‘cultural war’ changes 50 years ago, so what will they achieve now, given that their ultimate goal is to wipe traditionalists out, and the momentum now is almost unstoppable. After all, in the more advanced US, it has already come to blood.

 The major parties will be fired up for rounds of new anti-discrimination and politically correct legislation, and it may get in. Anyone who even agreed with anti-regime

thought will be marched off to re-education camps, although Australian society today, as one

On Target article put it, already is one. Ok, cross out ‘democracy’,it may become ashes.

What about the churches and other religions, at least Christianity? The churches, long ago permeated by cultural Marxism could have REALLY fought this and battled feminism in the 1960s, but they did not, merely accommodating it, as they are again ‘supping with the

devil’ over the plebiscite outcome. Many Protestant churches openly supported the Yes campaign. Christians make up 52 percent of the Australian population, and the greater majority of the Australian population are over 18. Hence a sizable percent of Christians must have voted

Yes, with the Social Justice Warrior set. God-fearing Bible-believing Christians need to worship with family and friends in home churches, just as the early Christians did. Let the corrupt institutions atrophy. The Yes vote would be even higher if not forAustralia’s multicult mix, proved by multicult NSW having the highest No vote for any state, of 42 percent. While the progressives on the Yes side proclaim this as a victory for human rights, their human rights are

culturally relative. Declining white populations and rising Muslim ones will reverse their world, as is already happening in Europe, especially Sweden:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jun/21/gay-lgbt-muslim-countries-middle-east

This is what it must have felt like to be at the end of the Roman Empire. But, can we really say that we do not deserve this fate?

 There is thus no Australian society any more, nothing common binding us, just a corporate state armed with guns promoting resource consumption. No history, no tradition. Nothing. You will see Australia Day go next,then ANZAC DAY, then the flag, with merely token opposition from the dregs of traditional Australia. We are not alone in this dispossession, for we are seeing it too in the US with the drive to remove historical statues. It is all on the time track. This also happens to be our greatest area for ‘works’ by which we (I) will be remembered.

       ‘YES’IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE OUTCOME

Traditional Australians are keenly aware of the perilous situation we are in. We are outnumbered, we are outgunned, and we are out positioned. Our elites are disloyal to even the thought of who we are. Their twisted view of some financial/centrally controlled utopian

technocracy of the future offers no hope to our children,even less to our grandchildren.

             The Regeneration ‘works’ begins with ‘I’

I

must start the regeneration from the ground up beginning with myself by stabilising my financial position so that my home base is secure.

I 

must turn off the TV (the dominant form of brainwashing) and go through a period of intense study and re-learning and de-programming that will put me in good stead to provide information to those closest to me who I can trust, using all the intellectual tools available -

Citizen Ninja, Social Dynamics, Social Credit Training.

I

must have an adequate library of quality books,pamphlets, audio tapes and DVDs so that those around me can be resourced to learn the truth.

I

must speak openly, from a position of knowledge, of our rich cultural history, laws, traditions and values.

I

must speak openly against cultural Marxism and their outworking against our institutions.

I

must insist my representatives, at all levels of government, re-present my wishes to the best of their ability.

I

must speak only the truth and move forward, every step carefully chosen and deliberately taken.

(Prof J.B.Peterson tells of the 100 lies a day that each of us speaks—not being honest with yourself)

I

must fearlessly engage in meaningful conversations on important issues at every opportunity. (Prof J.B.Peterson teaches how to speak to and against cultural marxists

with their utopian ideals)

I

  must stand firm against the evil powers of this day, (similar to the early Christians, who were     put to death for their refusal to yield to the power of Caesar), overeveryday lives and thoughts.

I

   must trust God to fill in all those gaps that I will leaveundone."

***

HEAR HEAR! (JM)

THE WITCH HUNT

      A barely noticed willy-willy began spinning in the sleepy Australian town of Moangallo during a late flaring of March heat. It was a Sunday morning. Within days, it was a whirlwind slamming every part of the country.  It had begun innocently enough. Professor Kenneth O’Reilly, an eminent academic from a solid sandstone University, foremost authority on Australian history and prolific author had been invited to the town by the local Fellowship of Samaritans Club to give a talk on aspects of the region’s history. He graciously acquiesced and in his usual manner of quiet charm cast a spell over the packed audience eager for a sample of his erudition. It was extraordinary, thought one and all, how this man, extremely unprepossessing, could carry so much knowledge in his head. It was as though original copies of every one of his books were contained there.

      Making their happiness complete was that the academic writer looked exactly as the audience expected in one of his ilk. They could excuse him for not wearing his habitual, beaten up tweed jacket with the leather elbow patches – it was much too hot. But in every other respect he filled the bill. He wore a tie that had been fashionable twenty five years ago and a grey long-sleeve shirt trying to escape from his baggy brown corduroy trousers. Long ago, he had taken a shine to the comfortable Hush Puppy brand of suede shoes. They had long since disappeared from the market along with the rest of the Australian foot-ware industry so he'd taken to wearing the closest facsimile which was presently imported from China and would live approximately a quarter of the life of the real thing. He was not only badly in need of a haircut but appeared to not even be bothered to comb his mop of grey hair. It was possible he didn’t even own a comb and considered his raking fingers as a viable substitute. Intermittently through the talk he would use them to smooth long unruly strands back to approximately their rightful place, only for them to begin sneaking away again.  

     On completion of his one and a half hour talk, the usually staid and conservative townspeople collected in the hall broke into the sort of applause usually reserved for god-like overseas celebrities visiting the big coastal cities. The question and answer session, originally allotted ten minutes, blew out to twenty five. Every question was answered thoughtfully and comprehensively. Finally the MC and president of the club jogged up the steps to the stage to bring the event to a close. He took the mike to give an official expression of gratitude and presented the guest with a crimson cellophane and pink ribbon wrapped gift, the shape of which strongly suggested a large book. It was in fact a specially produced, limited edition copy of a photographic history of the local area. The crowd broke once again into enthusiastic applause. An impossible number of them were already plotting their own interviews with the visiting historian over tea, fresh scones and biscuits, the fragrance of which was already reaching out from the tables set up at one  side of the of the room.

     The entire audience off almost seventy had enjoyed the presentation. However, a single individual had liked what he’d heard for an entirely different reason. This was Andy Miller, intrepid reporter for the Moangallo Mail. Like the overwhelming majority of members of his profession, Miller was an unquestioning member of the New Left. Like many of his kind, though he wasn't really aware of this being his ideological star. He simply saw himself as being on the only side of history a man could decently stand. Besides, all his friends and acquaintance thought the same way. Social ostracism was a condition he'd rather avoid.

     Mainly because of Miller’s singular lack of interest in local history, he had begrudged being assigned to cover the event. He was about to call it a day when question time was called. But he was hungry and being held in his place by the smell of the nearby fresh scones. Reflecting on wisdom he'd acquired early in his drinking career, we was pondering the question of whether to get at least a little something solid in his stomach before heading to the Grand Hotel, his preferred watering hole. While having this debate with himself a middle aged woman across the aisle from him rose to ask the first question. Looking suitably bookish in thick-framed glasses, she referred to her favourite book by the author with whom she was thrilled to be standing in the same room. It was entitled The Great Gold Rush and dealt with the veritable transformation of the country by the explosion of gold mania in the 1850s.

     "What I found of particular interest was the way you dealt with the anti-Chinese riots on the gold fields, particularly the nasty business at Lambing Flat. We hear so much about how terribly racist the white miners were to the Chinese but I think you managed provide  a slightly different perspective to these troubles by explaining how incensed the white miners were at the practice of the Chinese of picking over the fields left behind after the miners heard of bigger strikes elsewhere. I for one can understand their anger. They would have felt that others were exploiting the work they themselves had done. Of course what we now call racism was at play but in those times it would have been considered perfectly natural to feel antipathy toward the Other, if you will, to people who were so radically different in every way."

     Reporter Miller had by now completely forgotten the scones as his inbuilt radar, tuned to detect the slightest threat to "social justice", lit up.

     "My question is,’ the woman continued, ‘if as what many experts tell us about human nature being unchangeable, do you think that we might expect a renewal of the kind of strife on the goldfields that you wrote about happening in the present given such a large influx of Asians. In other words, do you think that we might be seeing a similar clash of cultures?"

     Milller’s senses were sharpened to an almost a fight-or-flight degree and his pen was poised as tightly as a knife in expectation of an imminent kill. The hush that had settled over the audience indicated he wasn’t the only one riveted on what the answer to this question would be. The tension increased in the moments of thoughtful silence the Professor let pass before answering. Choosing his words carefully, he said, ‘as history has shown, different people, different tribes, if you will, sharing the same living space can often lead to problems. Therefore, immigration into any country should be handled delicately and sensitively with this in mind. It shouldn’t be rushed. It is my humble opinion that the mood and attitude of the host population in regard to immigration should always be kept in mind". And then he added almost in an after-thought, "especially if the source of immigration diverges from what we’ve come to accept as traditional."

     Miller was elated. From an unpromising situation he had his story. RESPECTED PROFESSOR ISSUES RACIST WARNING was the headline that ran on the next day’s Mail. With monumental advances in communication allowing every newspaper in the country to know almost instantly what every other newspaper was reporting and because of the word ‘racist’ in the Mail’s headline indicating a ‘hot button’ issue, not twenty four hours had elapsed before the story was echoing from every available instrument of media throughout the country and even on wire services feeding the scandal to other countries where the belief  reigned that racism was an offence only marginally less evil than the sexual abuse of children.

   

  The phone on Professor O’Reilly’s desk in his office at the University began ringing even as the sun was rousing itself for its day’s journey and wouldn't stop until well after it had flashed a brilliant farewell. In a suburb not used to such nonsense, the professor’s wife peered nervously from a window at the pack of newshounds at her front door and the vehicles in the street splashed with TV station logos and mounted with satellite dishes. She heard a helicopter in the sky and who could blame her for suspecting it was also wearing TV livery? She flinched with every new volley of pounding on her door. A sensitive, introverted woman, she was beginning to feel ill. This was an omen of an impending migraine headache transforming every-day noise and light into instruments of torture.

     She had spoken to her husband several times by phone and each had tried, futilely, to make some sense of what was happening to them. He tried to comfort her when in need of comfort himself. He’d long stopped answering his phone. The first calls he’d taken had been from newspaper journalists either righteously demanding clarification of what he’d been reported as saying or magnanimously wanting to allow him to give "his side of the story." Having his phone running hot next were requests from TV journalists for interviews. Being only too aware of the savagery that could be unleashed by these journalists at interviewees of whose views weren’t approved, he wisely declined the "invitations" that were sometimes almost pleading. Worst of all, and the reason for which he’d stopped answering the phone, was the abuse he then began receiving. He would’ve been crushed to know that a portion of these was from his own students.   

     Shaken, he left his office to give his first lecture of the day. Once behind the lectern, all seemed normal again and what he’d been experiencing no more than a bad dream. Still, he couldn’t at times prevent his mind being plagued by wondering if his students were aware of the turn of events and how they were responding. He found himself scanning the youthful faces.

     Not wanting to return to his office, he instead headed for what was the usual comfort of the staffroom where several of his colleagues were relaxing, drinking coffee and, he was alarmed to see (feeling foolish because of it) reading newspapers. He was greeted with nods and smiles. But were the greetings, perhaps just infinitesimally, cooler than usual? He had to get a hold of himself. He was getting paranoid, allowing himself to be rattled by a storm in the tiniest of teacups. After all, he knew how news cycles worked. This would all blow over in a day or so or as soon as the vultures smelt a new death.

     But it didn’t blow over. Weeks passed without relent from the fearful attention. His colleagues were beginning to be cooler and more distant in their interactions with him. It wasn’t paranoia. He was beginning to feel like a monk in a monastery whose secret atheism had been uncovered. Different drilling angles were being used by the media promising even greater insight into the possible dimensions of the issue. Was this one individual case of racism in academia or was it more widespread than had ever been suspected? Was O’Reilly a lone cockroach (of course it wasn’t put in so many words) or had he actually popped out of a seething nest? Stay tuned.

     Fellow academics had taken it upon themselves to sift through the professor’s life’s work in search of further evidence of his racism. Once revered books were being minutely examined with the same kind of certainty attending Darwin’s missing link that something would eventually turn up if the search was diligent enough. What would be done with the books once the incriminating evidence was found was never mentioned, nor was the subject of bonfires ever broached. However, in the fevered imagination of some of the inquisitors, the flames were already being kindled.

     Exactly one month after his ‘infamous’ talk at the Samaritans club, O’Reilly surrended his academic  position, effectively hounded from the university he’d come to love. He was on the brink of a nervous breakdown and his fragile wife had been hospitalized because of continual migraine headaches. Media packs grouping at her front door finding it to be unrewarding had eventually melted away but reporters cruising past in cars now and again were sometime able to see a pale, wan face appearing around a curtain.

     Sadly the media harassing his wife had been replaced by an even more unnerving threat. Avenging social justice vandals and thugs had taken to terrorist tactics at his home address. It began with a terrific boooooom in the middle of the night. Armed with a cricket bat, O’Reilly, on going outside to investigate, found his letterbox buckled, still smoking and the top blown off. It was the result heavy duty fireworks exploding in a confined space. Appropriately enough, they had been obtained in Chinatown, the only area in the city fireworks were sold legally. The police were informed but the incident being viewed by the police almost amusedly as simply an example of youthful hi jinx, the complaint was stillborn.

     To O’Reilly, his wife’s being in hospital was a disguised blessing. She at least was spared the pain of knowing what was happening at  home. The letter box had only just been replaced when black paint graffiti appeared one the adjoining white fence: RASIST PIG. Remedial English had been introduced not a moment too soon, the professor thought wryly but sadly . Two days later a swastika, the symbol marketed as the ultimate mark of the devil, appeared on the weatherboard wall next to the front door.

     The day after a rock wrapped in an obscene message smashed through a bedroom window and took the legf off a bedside table O’Reilly put his house on the market. As soon as his wife was well enough to travel, he was planning to leave the land of his birth - for good.

 

FINALLY! SOMEONE LEADING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION

Here's the antithesis to the filthy rich Gerry Harvey who made his fortune in Australian retail but couldn't give a rat's arse about Australia as long as he makes even more money:  the filthy rich Dick Smith who also made his fortune in Australian retail but obviously cares deeply about Australia. Moreover, he's prepared to put his money where his mouth is. Hence the Dick Smith Fair Go campaign he's running. The plan is to run advertisements like the one featured in most if not all of the major Australian dailies to raise awareness of the dangers of the overpopulation our political and financial overlords have planned for us. It of course won't be cheap so he's asking for help, pledging to to match contributions dollar for dollar with his own money. No doubt he could afford 100% of the bill, but there's a certain wisdom in allowing others some skin in the game rather than providing a completely free ride, or in other words, an opportunity for nationalists like himself to take a break from their keyboards and put their money where their mouths are.



210,000 per annum  is a figure that gets bandied around as if it is a mere bagatelle. This is the current annual  number of  immigrants into Australia decreed by the Federal Government's Permanent Migration Program. Curiously though, though the number predicted for the year 2017 is over one quarter of a million. Totals recorded in the two previous years both nudged that number. The Australian Department of Immigration and Border Protection should be a reliable source. Take a squiz:  https://www.border.gov.au/ReportsandPublications/Documents/statistics/regional-nom-2004-05-2017-18.pdf.

 But of course, there are lies, damned lies and then there are statistics. The discrepancy can no doubt be explained away by those adept at explaining away everything from the pathology of homosexuality to the reality of race to doubts about man-made global warming. But even using the original rubbery figure, its obvious that per capita we have the most overwhelming immigration program

in the world, perhaps in the history of the world.

When will this end? Well evidently it's not going to end - not if the the beneficiaries of the program so blatantly exemplified by the likes of Gerry Harvey have their say, not to mention a financial system predicated upon infinite growth when not even the universe can pull off that particular trick. Big Bang becomes Big Crunch. More people! That's the cry of Gerry and his ilk. Why? A bigger domestic market nucklehead! And of course more people (particularly from where we get them) means the extremely desperate forcing down the wages of the merely moderately desperate. It's a win-win. But what happens in this race to the bottom when wages end up where they're intended be, which is on a par with cooly wages in the darkest depths of Asian poverty? How will anybody be able to afford to buy anything from your packed and gleaming stores?

You worry too much nucklehead. Who cares? By then we barons of capitalism will be dead. The survivors will be able to muddle on somehow - perhaps a bill legalising cannibalism will help. After all, everything else we once found abhorrent is becoming legalised.

On the other hand, Dick Smith's succinctness cannot be improved upon: "OVERPOPULATION WILL DESTROY AUSTRALIA". His only fault is the tense he uses. It's already destroying Australia. Australia of course is a very big country, roughly the same size as mainland USA. We are in fact the only country in the world with its own continent. What is often overlooked though is that we huddle on the fringes of one of the largest deserts in the world. Deserts are uninhabitable. True, the Israelis have made a desert bloom with desalinated water but it is a very small desert, about the size of a Matzo wafer compared with really big deserts. If anyone were to make a really big desert bloom, it would be the the overcrowded Chinese who have huge tracts of these annoyingly useless lands. It has a desperate need for habitable land, deep coffers full of gold, hordes of brainy scientists, countless millions of willing hands and a totalitarian system with which to persuade the owners of not so willing hands. But still the cracked, baking plains lie as useless as ever.

As a mocking irony, Australia contains an extensive and complex inland river system which are really the traces of rivers because no water flows in them, or only rarely after being subjected to flooding rain. Water once ran constantly in them but no-one is quite sure how many millions of years ago that was. For more than a century an idea has been kicked around that would see the millions of tonnes of rainwater falling on the eastern side of the Great Barrier Range and then flowing out to sea redirected via tunnels through the mountains and into the ancient river system. Even with tunnelling machinery improving all the time, the gargantuan nature of such an undertaking however continues to paralyse decision makers. Who would be willing to  take such a chance (especially amongst the political pygmies our "democracy" repeatedly throws up)?  Better in this case not to try at all than to try and fail. Wanted: Visionaries.

The reason Australia is such an ancient land is that it largely escaped the ravaging ice ages which scraped the surfaces off most other lands. Much of the continent is as it would have been not long after the earth cooled. It is very old and  like other very old things, very delicate, the most delicate ecology on the face of the earth. Soil erosion is a massive problem and largely an unintended consequence or the mania of early settlers for land clearing. Much earlier, Aborigines had caused permanent damage by way of setting fire to large tracts of forest to flush out game. As well as contributing to erosion, the elimination of much of the original flora caused the little talked about but devastatingly serious problem of salination - salt from our great underground salt pans leaching into the soil. Whereas rainfall was once drawn up by the roots of thirsty plants and trees, it now continues penetrating the soil to where it it hits the salt, forms a solution that permeates upwards poisoning the land and rendering it useless for food growing.

This is the country that is seen by tycoons with avariciousness that can only be explained in terms of mental sickness as a potential home for upwards of fifty million people. This is the country that looks on a map when viewed by Asians knowing little of our geography to be huge, wide open and empty. Why isn't it being? filled?  How selfish these Australians are. Do they really have a right to be so selfish? Do they have a right to keep that land to themselves?

But selfishness would hardly explain why those living in those great open spaces are killing themselves at a far greater rate than city-dwellers. The reasons are complex but surely to be working yourself to death and still going broke and losing the farm to the bank after its being in the family for generations couldn't have too many people singing "it's a wonderful life". Get big or get out of the way is what our farmers have been told for years. And so the ones who haven't killed themselves get out of the way and largely foreign owned, giant "agribusinesses" fill the void. The ex-farmers, and the ex-workers in the support industries once kept afloat by traditional farming trek to the cities to form a stream additional to the ones coming from overseas.

Taking Sydney as an example where forty percent of immigrants settle, that means, with a national total of a conservative quarter million per year, not counting births (births to immigrants outstripping others) or refugees from the bush, the city's population expanding by almost two thousand souls every week. And people wonder why the traffic seems to be getting worse. It is getting worse. The vehicular nightmares of Manila and Bangkok are not far distant.

More and more are coming from China. Makes sense when it's remembered we are on our way to becoming a Chinese colony. If some secret deal hasn't been hammered out between the the Australian government and the government of the People's Republic of China whereby we siphon off a decent proportion of their surplus population in return for "considerations", I'll swim Bass Strait back-stroke.

Meanwhile, the distance between politicians and actors also diminishes. Almost weekly, honey-voiced politicians appear before the cameras with cronies nodding vigorously to every note of optimism expressed by the actor/politician in announcing yet another spectacular infrastructure building initiative. What's never mentioned is the Sisyphean  nature of every new money-hoovering venture. After years of inconvenience and upheaval, the latest piece of brave nation builiding will be all but obsolete and inadequate almost from the time of the ribbon-cutting. Every new "expressway" will rapidly come to resemble a car park.

But GROWTH is everything. We need more profit, more investment, more production, more people. Even when Australian cities have come to look like Hollywood renderings of failed, megaopolises enshrouded in toxic smog, the crazily cross-bred creatures gasping for breath within will be still hearing the demented calls for ever more growth, when, as every insatiable sports fan knows, too much is never enough.

Dick Smith may be a man in a barbed wire canoe paddling against a strong current in Shit Creek, but at least he's trying. His may be a voice in the wilderness, but it's sure to be heard by those who know he's speaking a truth that so many others would prefer we didn't hear. Please support him.

BUMIPUTRA - SONS OF THE MALAYSIAN SOIL

Multiculturalism has never worked out all that well in Malaysia, particularly in '69 when ethnic Chinese were being hunted down and killed in the streets of Kuala Lumpur. The shock-waves from that explosion of  racial hatred caused a monumental watershed in Malaysian society.

Wherever the Chinese have established themselves as significant minorities in the countries of Asia, the pattern of resentment and hostility toward them bears a remarkable resemblance to the reaction that has seen the Jews thrown out of a long list of European countries at one time or another and for similar reasons. It is therefore no surprise to find that the Chinese are widely known as "the Jews of Asia".

Ethnic Chinese now make up 25% of the Malaysian population - second only to Thailand in terms of Chinese minority size. Scattered widely throughout the country, Panang, the island connected to the mainland by bridge, is though the Chinese capital, as it were.

Small Chinese numbers were reported as early as the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. They didn't however begin arriving in force until significant deposits of tin were discovered in 1820. They were needed by the Malayan sultans and British colonists to labour in the mines. This would appear to indicate disdain for such work from the native Malays to whom agricultural pursuits and a measure of autonomy were traditional.

In 1839 Goodyear perfected the vulcanisation of rubber. A wide open market and a demand for the product ensued. The climate and soil of Malaya were recognised as ideal prerequisites for growing rubber plants. The need for plantation workers triggered another wave of Chinese immigration, the locals once again preferring to be their own bosses in their rice paddies.

Following a pattern established wherever Chinese have settled in numbers, these impoverished workers, through energy, thrift and networking, quickly elevated themselves to people of means, with a seemingly innate and uncanny ability to turn money into more money and small businesses into larger businesses. The Malays meanwhile were happy to plod along in subsistence farming, sometimes if lucky, resulting in moderately profitable surpluses.

Even at the very beginning of these trends, a crystal ball would not have been needed to foresee the inevitable results: the Chinese, never really accepted as fellow citizens but rather as interlopers - the clannish of the Chinese not mitigating this perception - controlling the wealth of the country while the still impoverished Malays smouldered with resentment. 1969 was this pressure cooker exploding. When the smoke cleared and dust settled the body count began. Estimates of Chinese dead vary widely but the respected writer, Amy Chua, in her book World on Fire gives a figure of around one thousand.

This however wasn't the first indication of the difficulty of two distinctly different races sharing the same living space - just the worst. Race riots had occurred in '57, '59, '64 and '67. Riots occurring in Singapore in '64 caused the city-state to be booted out of the Malaysian Federation formed only the previous year. The two-nation federation of course collapsed but the newly divorced northern partner opted to retain the name "Malaysia".

The destruction and bloodshed of 1969 was living (and dying) proof that the battle cry of the French Revolution - "liberty, equality, fraternity" - was simply empty rhetoric. There can be liberty OR equality. There can't be both. The liberty existing in Malaysia enabled a ruthlessly capitalistic-minded segment of the population to dominate a far less financially aggressive indigenous people who by and large were content to do what they had always done: live off the land in their timeless kampongs. These were the Bumiputra, or sons of soil. A moniker like that clearly tended to anchor them much deeper in the homeland than the Chinese "newcomers" and begged for protection as a national treasure.

In the aftermath of the death and destruction, Malaysia's first prime minister, Tunku Abdul  Rahman resigned and a state of emergency was declared. Malaysian authorities, shocked and faced with the prospect of further, possibly escalating violence, were confronted with the enormous but unavoidable task of (in economic-speak) "levelling the playing field". What they came up with sounded faintly like something lifted from a 1930's Soviet hand-book for apparatchiks. It was entitled the New Economic Plan or NEP.

The socio-political justification for NEP was that:

"National Unity is unattainable without greater equity and balance among Malaysia's social and ethnic groups in their participation in the development of the country and in the sharing of the benefits from modernization and economic growth. National Unity cannot be fostered if vast sections of the population remain poor and if sufficient productive employment opportunities are not created for the expanding labour force"

This was a nice way of saying that the avaricious Chinese would be henceforth as heavily handicapped as Tulloch in the running of the 1960 Melbourne Cup. More importantly, it would be now extremely difficult for Chinese hands to grip the levers of political power.

Not particularly interested in the political sphere but almost as interested in making money as the Chinese was the third major component of Malaysian society, the Indian community, which also stood above the Malays in economic terms. The South East Asian version of affirmative action would also militate against them.

The NEP was up and running by 1971. Broadly, it was geared to redistribute the national wealth of the Malays from 2.4 % to 30% via concomitant increase in the ownership of enterprise. Well funded training schemes were established with the goal of rapidly and significantly boosting Malay employment in the public sector.

The most controversial of the initiatives taken was the quota system placed on entrance to tertiary education. The effect of this was the shutting out of Chinese and other non-Malay students from education. This saw an explosion in the numbers of Malaysian-Chinese studying in Australian universities (and effectively shutting out Australian students from higher education). It had the additional unfortunate after-effects of getting Australian educational institutions addicted to overseas student fees and blowing a backdoor into Australia for Chinese students easily able to acheive residency and naturalisation after the completion of their studies. The NEP lasted until 1991 when it was succeeded by the National Development Policy which relaxed some of the harsher aspects of the preceding policy, an unintended consequence of which was a "brain drain" causing damage to Malaysian society as a whole.

Although the NEP was presented as a mechanism for lifting the bottom levels of Malaysian society out of dire poverty, there was no hiding the fact that a zero sum game was being played - for every grinning winner there was a sad-faced loser and that face was heavily Chinese. There was no point even attempting to hide the barefaced lying involved, the most egregious example being that the policy was wholly race-based with no concern for social/economic class. This meant that even rich Malays were able to benefit from the scheme while impoverished Chinese and others not categorised as Bumiputra were left to struggle on their own

Which ever way it is cut, the NEP was racism institutionalised. If anything like this had ever been attempted  in a white country, that is, providing hefty advantages to the native whites, it would be South Africa all over again with liberals frothing and spitting and shrieking for the immediate destruction of that country. But non-white countries naturally receive a pass, and this is because .... oh the agony of the paradox confronting saintly leftist/liberals - the same level of moral evolution is not really expected of non-whites. How to escape the inescapable, thinly veiled conclusion that this also is an expression of racism? Best not to talk about it.

But what was Malaysia to do, allow its natives to be eaten alive, allow it's country to be taken from its rightful owners, it's wealth expropriated, to simply lie down and die? No, only white countries are stupid enough to do that.

MANUS ISLAND Vs NORFOLK ISLAND

NORFOLK ISLAND

I happened to mention an upcoming trip to Norfolk Island to my dentist. He seemed interested so I continued. Referring to its penal settlement days, I said, "It would have to be a supreme irony wouldn't it? They managed to take an island paradise and turn it into a hell on earth."

He replied, "yes, just like Manus Island." I was about to spin my head Linda Blair style and spray him with "you're kidding aren't you? You're comparing Manus with Norfolk?" But remembering it's not the best of ideas to get involved in a political altercation with your dentist, especially as he's about to drill a tooth, I kept my mouth shut - figuratively speaking, that is. Doing it literally  would of course have defeated the purpose of a dental appointment. In retrospect, I shouldn't have been caught so flat-footed by his opinion. He is after all an upper middle class professional and, as so, obligated to have  the "correct" views so effective at setting the holder apart from the ignorant rabble. 

Once on the lonely but beautiful dot of land way out in the pacific, I couldn't help feeling, even though I'd grown up only  a suburban train ride from old Port Jackson, that I'd never been closer to Australian history. With the ruins of the old stone jail at my back, I gazed out over Sydney Bay and could have sworn I'd seen a ghostly image of the Sirius gamely fighting for its life against wind and tide, but defeated, drifting ever closer to shore until crashing stern-first and mortally injured onto a jagged reef.

By means of a rope floated by a barrel to shore and the setting up of hawsers, all on board were rescued and most of the urgently needed stores were gotten to dry land. It was however a cruel blow to the embryonic settlement, as indeed it was to the the settlement, almost as new, 1,100 miles away on the east coast of Australia. With food supplies critically low, it needed ships to fetch provisions from wherever possible.

The central idea of Norfolk Island becoming a breadbasket for the mother colony would not be realised and the island was abandoned just thirty seven years later in 1825.  However, with the process of removing the British criminal class to the Antipodes going full bore, the penal colonies in NSW and Van Dieman's Land were filling up alarmingly quickly. What to do with so many convicts, especially the desperados so dangerously bereft of hope that swinging from a hangman's rope looked more like an escape than a punishment? Once again, the island with its ubiquitous pines standing rigidly to attention - effectively inescapable * - began drawing men's minds. It was practically ready-made as a penal colony.

And so it became. Firstly for the worst of the worst, "the incorrigibles" as they were known, but perhaps more accurately described as those who couldn't be broken. And then there were the Irish rebels transported for the heinous crimes of insurrection and treason and still striking fear in English hearts. The irretrievability from depths of black depredations these first waves of convicts were thought to be marked by set the pattern of treatment of all convicts finding themselves on the island, regardless of later arrivals being garden variety convicts sent there simply because of continuing overcrowding in NSW.

That treatment, even allowing for the distortion of the view through a telescope from gentler, softer times as unbelievably brutal, was unbelievably brutal, although, in fairness, some of the commandants who are now considered as demented sadists, were probably simply products of their time trying to fulfill difficult duties. As in the British navy at the time, the lash was seen as the most efficacious method, perhaps the only method, of maintaining discipline. And given that a breakdown of discipline in the tiny colony struggling to survive could mean the sure ending of that survival, the lash was a tool used as frequently as hammers and chisels and for the pettiest of offences. The number of lashes men - and women, there being enough equal opportunity here to satisfy even the most aggrieved feminist - were sentenced to beggars a belief in survival of such an ordeal. It was evidently quite a science in establishing just how much a human could be flogged and still kept just this side of death.

 

 The prison the convicts spent hard labour in constructing for themselves was of the pentagonal type becoming fashionable at the time. Enclosed in a high surrounding walls, the central structure resembled a wheel with five spokes, the latter being cell blocks. The cells were a far cry from the spacious rooms equipped with radios and coffee and tea making facilities we've become familiar with via TV and films. In fact, measuring about five feet wide, seven feet deep and a little over six feet high, contained within walls over a foot thick, with a narrow door and no light, the prisoners were more entombed than locked up. In heavy rainfall, they were known to flood.

OUTER WALL AND GATE OF THE OLD JAIL ON NORFOLK ISLAND

It's perhaps surprising that in spite of all the physical tortures inflicted on the convicts, the rule against the prisoners speaking to one another was the most resented. It was as if this last indignity was what sealed their hell and they would risk the skin on their back to defy it.

So, back to my dentist's assertion that the treatment of the "asylum seekers" on Manus Island should be included in the same category as that once dished out out on Norfolk Island. Is it a fair statement? A glance at the photo below should settle that argument more swiftly than any argument in the history of  men's fractiousness has ever been settled.

MANUS ISLAND "REFUGEES" ENDURING THEIR OWN VERSION OF HELL ON EARTH

Confusingly, in spite of conditions in the detention centre on Manus Island being declared by its residents and Australian bleeding hearts, with the ABC leading the charge, to be so dire as to be a black stain on our humanity, six hundred of the inhabitants are currently refusing to leave, dramatically filling wheely bins with water as if preparing for a siege. How could this be? Apparently two main reasons are behind this odd behaviour. Firstly, these fit, healthy young men, many claiming they've come from homelands torn by war -the question of why they didn't remain to help defend those homelands is rarely asked - are afraid for their safety. Who threatens their safety? Why, it must be those big, black, scary Papuans. So six hundred of these pansies couldn't defend themselves against the descendents of the fuzzy, wuzzy angels? Perhaps this explains why staying to defend their own countries would have been a waste of time. The ones who had stayed were probably glad to see the backs of them.

Their second objection to exiting this supposed hell-hole was that alternate accommodation was in no way ready to accept them. This ABC tries to legitimate this claim with its cameras panning across a scene filled with cranes and bulldozers. Unfortunately for the ABC, these scenes couldn't be captured without showing the big, gleaming, new building in the background. Fake news? Bet your arse it is.

As always, we're simply being gamed. Ironically, if these con-artists had've entered Australia legitimately, they would be being praised as the people who are building Australia, because, as everyone knows, it was multiculturalism that built Australia. To object by saying that this shot of "diversity" was only attracted to Australia after all the spade-work had been done would be churlish, not to mention unforgivably racist.

But in these days when truth is no defence, when postmodernists have abolished truth altogether, the lid must be kept on. But not to worry. That lid will one day be blown so high it may become a satellite. And truth will prevail. And that truth is that the brutality of our penal colonies was the bedrock of our nation, the soil out of which rapidly grew a gleaming civilization on the world's most ancient land. It was brutality in a brutal time. But that hardness created the men and women needed for the nation-building task ahead of them.

* But escape some did by stowing away on visiting ships, often American whalers whose captains were rarely averse to additional labour - especially when it cost little more than food and a rum allowance.