One Nation

There’s worse news every day.

Thursday, 15th of September: in her maiden speech to the Senate, Pauline Hanson declares that Australia is “in danger of being swamped by Muslims”.

Sunday, 18th of September: speaking to a forum of European conservatives, former Prime Minister Tony Abbott describes the influx of refugees to Europe from “Middle East and Africa” as a “peaceful invasion”.

Wednesday, 21st of September: an Essential poll of 1000 people suggests that 49% of Australians want to ban the migration of people of people of the Islamic faith to Australia. A further 11% aren’t sure either way. If the poll is accurate, those of us who oppose such a measure are in the minority.

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Eddie Mabo. Rosa Parks. Nelson Mandela. These people all have one thing in common – they were sooks. But were they flogs? If the Adam Goodes saga has taught us one thing, it’s that sooks aren’t necessarily flogs and flogs aren’t necessarily sooks, though either are usually both. But what it hasn’t taught it us is that white Australians who boo an Aboriginal activist are probably racists, because how can they be when Adam Goodes is a sook and a flog and Rita Panahi is an Indian?

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Review Of A Racist Chain Email Sent By An Elderly Relative

I have family member I love deeply who can be a teensy bit xenophobic. Their emails are invariably forwarded chain letters that range from cute brainteasers with clip art to hateful Islamophobic tirades. I don’t know where this petite, garden-loving octogenarian gets these screeds from  – probably the Klan mailing list they subscribe to – but wince-inducing racism has become a regular fixture of my inbox. What troubles me, though, is that this viral propaganda isn’t always up to the same standard. Not every open letter to Adam Goodes is created equal, and I’ve had to create an elaborate rating system to classify these emails based on eloquence, bigotry and merit. In want of anything else to post, I’ve scoured my vast database for an email to review for your consideration. (Warning  – this analytical commentary contains spoilers for the chain email “Telephone Survey”.)

Microparty Megaguide III: All Tommorow’s Parties

It’s sixteen hours before Anthony Abbott delivers his victory speech, leering like a blue-tied Caesar over the smouldering ruins of Gaul. I’m hunkered in my bunker staring at this screen, draped in a ratty grey dressing gown and struggling to think of a word to write. Maybe it would be easier if I thought that Labor had a chance, but that’s impossible outside the crumbling, ember-flecked Library of Alexandria that is Bob Ellis’ mind. Ellis, once a luminary activist, has lost the plot, vanished entirely inside himself, a bag of potatoes gone to seed – like he’s the jowly personification of the ALP itself.

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