More Than Sour Grapes?

Gerard Henderson’s assertion on The Bolt Report that Waleed Aly’s New York Times’ public denunciation of Australia’s security policies was an “unhinged tirade” is just his theory. More likely, it was  Aly voicing his frustration with the Turnbull Government for completely ignoring everything he has to say about the matter. Outrage, too, that the faux Aussie credentials Aly regularly flouts (a Gold Logie and scoring a hot, white-chick for a wife) have made no difference, and the anti-terrorism bullshit “expertise” on his CV continues to be recognised for the complete and utter bullshit that it is: i.e., complete and utter bullshit.

And wasn’t there more than a whiff of sour-grapes there in the NYT article, too?
No, not sour-grapes – humiliation. The humiliation that, in spite of his bullshit expertise being totally ignored by the Security Services, mass-casualty attacks on the Australian homeland have been still successfully thwarted?

It would be normal for anyone to feel humiliation – despair, even – under these circumstances. Yes, it really can be tough knowing your advice was either automatically dismissed out of hand because it was completely worthless, or because it was known to originate from a well-known, lying, dissembling and transparently fraudulent little huckster with faux dinky-di Aussie and anti-terrorism credentials – and that it has been treated accordingly. That is, what he has to say dismissed out of hand for either reason. But I can only guess which one. Most likely, both.

And there is another theory. Perhaps Aly’s NYT article was just his way of  expressing his frustration at the Security Services’ continuing successes in spite of his best efforts, period.  But it’s just a theory. (Not mine: I deny it completely.)

Posted in Waleed Aly | Leave a comment

Tim Il Sung

Those who will mourn Triggs’ passing belong to the rogue’s gallery of Leftist shits that really run Australia, chief among whom will be that tin-pot, Franco-Lao side-kick of hers, Tim Soutphommasane.

Representing yet another un-lanced boil still affixed to the Australian body politic, Uncle Tim is unlike hundreds of thousands of other otherwise loyal, hard-working Aussies with Asian descent who are willing to knuckle down and contribute to the country without complaint. Instead, this ungrateful little turd (for that is what he is) prefers to regularly turn on the white hands that initially welcomed him in, snapping, snarling and biting at them like a mongrel dog.

Declining to take a hint from that Sudanese imbecile Yassmin Abdel Maglied (who just buggered off to London to find out if their entire population agrees she’s an imbecile too), Soutphommasane doggedly remains in country. Apart from periodically complaining about the excessive whiteness in the skin colour of those in charge here, he relentlessly scours the newspapers and airwaves looking for anything that deviates one iota from the progressive party line, and to justify the monumental perversity of drawing a $300,000+ salary regularly touts for race-hate business predominantly from the very same white Australian tax payers he seeks to prosecute at every opportunity. Yes, the same tax-payers who let him in in the first place.

Timmy recently moaned about ignorant (white, no doubt) people not being able to pronounce his ridiculous surname, reportedly throwing up their hands in despair, before resorting in the end (my guess) to ‘Fuck-Knuckle’. To be sure, given his official title of Race Commissioner, ‘Fuck-Knuckle’ seems pretty appropriate and slides easily off the tongue. Additionally, it’s a quaint Aussie nickname, reserved for presumptuous little twits, and sensible Aussies will rightly agree that only a ridiculous, tin-pot, possibly Gay panjandrum could possibly object to it.

I suggest, however, that given the powers Comrade Tim Fuck-Knuckle wields, enabling him to summarily ruin anyone for the slightest transgression of speech, perhaps the name ‘Tim Il Sung’ would be far more appropriate and just as easy to pronounce.

Further, I’m willing to speculate on how Tim Il Sung’s manifest hatred for whities is regularly reinforced: every morning while shaving. The reflection of that smug mug of his serving as one of those yellow ‘post-it’ notes, apparently stuck permanently on his bathroom mirror serves as a constant reminder, with every glance, that the little fucker who owns that face can gaol or bankrupt at the drop of a hat anyone who dares utter a word within earshot that evenly remotely sounds like ‘chink‘ . Unlike some of those North Korean commies he’s inspired by, however, he still can’t have them shot for it. At least not yet.

But the downside for Tim Il Sung is that this morning, yellow ‘post-it’ note also serves as an unfortunate reminder that the owner of the said face still can’t have people of any race (round-eyed or otherwise) locked up, much less shot, for remarking on the uncanny resemblance he bears to his just as chubby, just as ideologically deranged and just as repulsive North Korean namesake. No amount of repression and litigation is going to hide that fact.

Posted in Gillian Triggs, Kim Jong Un, North Korea, Progressives, Tim Il Sung, Tim Soutphommasane, Yassmin Abdel-Magied | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Exit, Stage Left: You Secret Black and Midnight Hag

With the despicable Triggs’ imminent departure today from public office, who on earth is going to mourn her passing from the political stage?

Surely not those who have long recognised Triggs as nothing less than a crazed, neo-Stalinist cretin? A maniacal Marxist apparatchik who is now, finally, being put out to pasture? An unlanced carbuncle on the Australian body politic, whose sole raison d’etre (at least according to her sick,  poisonous ideology) was to police and to crush all opposition to the Left’s imposition on Australia’s sensibilities of a perverse, multicultural straight-jacket?

Surely she won’t be missed by those who counted her among the unelected swill that has shut down free-speech in Australia, preventing sensibly-minded people from wanting to, as a matter of course, denounce her as the out and out commie trollop that she is? Surely she won’t be missed by them, even if they wanted to just denounce her in purely factual terms, such as ‘that f**king Triggs commie’, leaving off the word ‘trollop’ so as not to offend her too much, but still making her feel just as gutted as she must have felt when her QUT case got thrown out, or when her humbug was exposed in the Senate and she was proven to be a serial liar? (But mostly because ‘trollop‘ might not be provable in court.)

No she won’t be missed by those at all. Or by any other sensible people.

And surely she won’t be missed by those, who, like me, instead merely wish a complete pox on all her houses, past, present and future? Or those who similarly hope that, like Banquo, the ghost of Bill Leak will come to regularly haunt her, this lying, dissembling, free-speech murdering cow: haunting her during her every waking moment?
No she won’t.


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White Queen Utter Absurdity: Makes Perfect Sense

Alice in Australia-land

In ‘Through The Looking Glass’ the White Queen tells Alice that she sometimes ‘believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.’ If Alice were to go down a nearby rabbit hole and take a glance at the topsy-turvy wonderland that is modern Australia, she would find impossible things happening before breakfast are now a dime a dozen.

On Wednesday another impossible thing happened.
The advocacy group Liberty Victoria (formerly the Victorian Council for Civil Liberties) declared Gillian Triggs – an entirely washed-up, fool of a woman – the 2017 winner of the Voltaire Award for advocating free speech. Voltaire of course is the one who didn’t say, “I disagree with what you say and so I intend to totally crush you for daring to open your mouth,” but quite the opposite. Voltaire, in the vanguard of The Enlightenment, was the very antithesis of the despicable Triggs.

After millions of rational Australians paused to raise their shattered jaws which have crashed to the floor in disbelief, the question arose: how can this possibly be? How can Liberty Victoria (LV) possibly think that this psychotic and self-evidently idiotic White Queen, constantly running around screeching “Off with their heads!” to everyone who dares defy her Marxist speech codes, should be elevated to occupy the same pedestal as Voltaire? Sadly, everything in Australia, it seems, is not becoming ‘curiouser and curiouser’, but ‘idioticer and idioticer.’

To be fair, it’s entirely feasible to think that LV might have got the inspiration for their idiocy not from Through The Looking Glass but from Caligula, who 2,000 years ago decided to elect his own horse to the Roman senate. LV (themselves similarly mad) might well have concluded that awarding the Voltaire award to a complete horse’s arse – who herself has the additional qualification of being, like Caligula, entirely deranged – would be following the same sort of reasoning. Which was none. Both acts were just as ridiculous, and both involved a great horse’s arse somewhere in the story.

Either way, it all comes together quite nicely.
In Australia’s own Alice in Wonderland world, totally awash with leftist absurdity, Liberty Victoria elevating and equating this hideous White Queen and her despicable Stalinist ideology to that of Voltaire really does make perfect sense.

For that reason, the sooner someone ‘offs’ with the White Queen’s head the better. Because unless you’re own head’s been popped as full of the same hallucinating drugs as was Charles Dodgson’s, there is no place in an enlightened Australia for either the despicable Triggs or for the imbeciles in Liberty Victoria who see fit to promote her.

Posted in Alice in Wonderland, Gillian Triggs, Liberty Victoria, Through The Looking Glass | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Bad News Week

Marine Le Pen
France’s Great White Hope

It’s been a bad news week.
Bad news that that Erdogan autocrat, megalomaniac and Islamist par excellence seems all set now to install himself as caliph in 2019. Bad news that, having his bid to join Europe thrown out – if he gets his way and brings back the death penalty for the secular opponents he calls ‘terrorists’ – won’t make a blind bit of difference because Erdogan’s still got Europe lined up for a shafting with the 3 million Syrian refugees he’s holding back, all ready to let loose.
Merde (as Marine would say)

Bad news, also, that only one, single ISIS terrorist was killed after his attack on the cops on the Champs-Élysées because French intelligence services estimate that there is still at least another 11,000 of them still to go. Bad news that at least 30% of France’s 5 million Muslims sympathise with them in some form or another. Bad news that the only hope they have (Marine Le Pen) will probably not win the Presidency and that La Belle France is probably now, as a consequence, well and truly shafted.
Merde, merde, merde, as Marine would say (among other things).

Bad news that Islam’s blasphemy laws helped the Islamist Anis Baswedan get elected to govern Jakarta, the most populous city of a Muslim country located only 200km from the Aussie mainland. Bad news that his Christian opponent, Ahok, was way ahead in the polls before Anis played the blasphemy card. Bad news that Ahok subsequently go thrown in gaol for that very blasphemy (saying it’s okay for Muslims to vote for him) and that the visiting US VP Mike Pence still praised the country for its moderate form of Islam.
Merde (as Marine again would say.)

But the really, really, REALLY bad news – at least for someone like me, sitting at home, gleefully watching, over and over, YouTube footage of jihadists accidentally blowing themselves up – is that Waleed Aly is tipped to win his second Gold Logie tonight. Anticipating the nauseating waves of adulation and suck-holing from fawning luvvies that will ensue should such an obscenity eventuate, I have a stack of sick bags at the ready.

It’s so unfair. If only I had the Photoshop skills to replace the YouTube jihadist faces with that of The Project’s closet-jihadist life would be so much more bearable, and more full of “Joie de vivre,” as Marine would say.

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Extreme Vetting – New Citizenship Test

What a disappointment!
Peter Dutton’s and his new limp-wristed citizenship test to weed out unwanted scum and prevent them from becoming Aussies is a complete let-down. Not just because it lacks the legal enforcement to back it up, but because the normally very able Dutton ignored my pleas to stop pussy-footing around and simplify the test, cutting it down to a single, critical and entirely relevant question. No doubt that gutless PM of ours over-ruled Dutton just to appease his fellow bed-wetters in the Libs and his lefty lunatic mates in the Greens.

For what it’s worth, here is my initial proposal, followed by the revised, more culturally-sensitive version:

Complete Citizenship Test (Initial Recommendation)


Q1. Are you a f***in’ Muzzie?
Yes?: Go to Part 3.
No?:  Go to Part 2.


CONGRATULATIONS! You are now a dinky-di Aussie!


F**K RIGHT OFF back to where you came from.


Revised, more culturally sensitive proposal


Q1. Are you a f***in’ Muzzie?
Yes?: Go to Part 3.
No?:  Go to Part 2.


CONGRATULATIONS! You are now a dinky-di Aussie!


F**K RIGHT OFF back to where you came from – and take your f***in’ mosque with you.

With the mandatory castration of the male Part 3 applicants and confiscation of their centre-link payments before they leave, I can’t see why this role-model for vetting future citizens shouldn’t be the envy of the entire civilised world.

Posted in Australian Citizenship, Malcolm Turnbull, Peter Dutton | Leave a comment


Surprised to see yesterday that Yassmin Abdel-Maglied’s attempt to disguise her stupidity by pushing the fantasy of her being beautiful, intelligent and well-read has again been given legitimacy by The Guardian’s Life and Style section. Or maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, for where else does a prize idiot go in such circumstances? It’s a public trash heap, hires mentally-deficient columnists, spouts complete fantasy (“truth” to the Guardianistas) and, what’s more, it’s free!

Wasting vast amounts of column space gushing on and on about her favourite cosmetics and books, the idiocy of calling herself a feminist while sporting a hijab and having Hizb-ut-Tahrir mentor her is completely lost on this feather-brain, Maglied. Instead of reading the fantasist Patrick Rothfuss over and over again she would be much better off reading the seminal work of that well-known Arabian fantasist (you know who) over and over again, and realise what an utter dick she is for going along with that horror show of his.

Likewise, a litre of Urban Decay lipstick won’t overcome the fact that every time she opens her mouth she vaguely reminds one (as David Attenborough once privately remarked to me after first watching her on Q&A a while back) of a herd of crazed Nile-delta hippos attacking a canoe. So that can’t help her cause much, even if I hadn’t subsequently posted it all over the Internet. But, there’s at least a suggestion of it there, I find myself forced to agree. Besides, if anyone knows about these things, it would be David.

Though it is difficult to dispute, at least, that the vast amounts of rubbish Yassmin sprays around when she does open her mouth is closely related to what hippos (and horses for that matter) eject from their opposite ends after a big feed. Though Attenborough wouldn’t necessarily agree with me on that score. At least not publicly.

Posted in The Guardian, Uncategorized, Yassmin Abdel-Magied | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Veneerial Disease

“Keeping up Appearances”

Strolling around Istanbul’s Topkapi Palace back in 2012, who should I meet but the beautiful Princess Nilhan Osmanoglu, a descendent of the last of the Ottomans. It was while admiring a beautiful mural glorifying the sublime occasion Suleiman The Magnificent reclined in his garden, stroking a peacock, leisurely narrating instructions from the Koran to his Janussaries on how to skewer Christian heads before serving them up as kebabs, that I bumped into someone I thought to be the cleaning lady.

It turned out to be the Princess herself in the guise of an old street hag, wiping out the inside of the Suleimans favourite Giant spittoon (the one which he often used to roast the testicles of European ambassadors he took a dislike to.) Incognito, the Princess tells me (inspired by the great 12th century Caliph, Rashid Cillingnonmuzzies-a-rUS) in order to wander through the streets, listening to and learning what the people really thought in preparation for her future ascent to power in Erdogan’s fast-approaching  neo-Ottoman caliphate.

Initially taken aback by my Aussie accent, even more by the expression “Shit sheila, move yah fat arse, will yah?!”, we soon got into an intense discussion. Surprisingly well-informed about matters down-under, Princess Nilhan frequently alludes to Australian politics as she reveals her inner-most thoughts on what it means to be a royal in the mega-powerhouse that is about to “completely fuck Europe”, as she put it.

The secret is in the ‘veneer‘, she tells me. You have this expression in real estate (she explained): ’Location! Location! Location!’, don’t you? Well, in Islam, we have a similar expression: ‘Veneer! Veneer! Veneer!’

As for advice on bringing the caliphate about down-under? You need to retain your femininity: dress well, not like those Greens sluts. Adopt a veneer of concerned and dignified respectability in your speech, and don’t blubber like a lunatic, otherwise they’ll be on to you. But I know this must be especially difficult for Arab Muslims in Australia to, how you say, ‘Come the raw prawn with someone’??? Where their credibility is as scarce as fucking-horse shit??? (‘Rocking’ horse, I corrected her).  But us Turks, the Princess continued, here we have a 623 year line of dynasties to draw respectability from, but a caliphate is nevertheless still possible in Australia, she insists.

That was in 2012.
Last week I get a phone call from the Princess and find her English has greatly improved. She’s decided to throw in her lot behind Erdogan’s push to become a Sultan this April. In return, she gets to stay Princess, promoted to Sultana when they finally take Rome.

“Veneer! Veneer! Veneer!” Princess Nilhan reminds me.
“But in Oz, she says, you have to go about it differently. A good way to start, after you come over from, say, Egypt, is to go to uni and get some impressive humanitarian qualifications. This way you can help disguise the fact you don’t give a hoot (“A flying-fuck”, I correct her) about people other than Muslims. Human Rights is good if you want to impress the Lefties but you probably need something more than that to try to fool the Right.

Get a PHD in ‘Perceptions of Terrorism’, for example, if you can. Loudly spruik all that worthless deradicalisation expertise you’ve picked up from a garbage heap somewhere, while continuing to publicly pay lip-service to fighting ISIS. Then stand on an erection (“Stand for election”, I correct her again) in West Aussie somewhere (“Cowan”, I suggest), and shit (‘sit’) in Parliament for the next few years playing the Muslim victim card and moaning a lot (having a Muzzie orgasm, I correct, incorrectly) about Islamophobia.

Veneer! Veneer! Veneer!
And every now and then you raise your petite and rather dainty North-African-coloured ass from the benches to spout ridiculous and manufactured allegations about the rise of right-wing extremism in Australia. This, to justify imposing Islam’s blasphemy laws on Australians under the veneer of countering Islamophobia with 18C. That should do it! Before you know it, bingo!: out from under all of this veneer comes an Aussie caliphate!

But not if you let the Chinese take over first,” Princess Nilhan warns. “The last thing they’re going to do is sit around while Muzzies send their property prices down the turd-burglar.”  ‘Gurgler’, I correct, for some reason thinking of Bandt and Greenies again and wondering who is worse.





Posted in 18C, Adam Bandt, Anne Aly, Princess Nilhan Osmanoglu | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Bandt Again

Adam Bandt
(Green economic vandal?)

Always being open-minded about these matters, I really don’t care where consenting adult Aussies decide to stick their naughty bits at any particular time, so long as they do it at home and out of my sight. Oh yes: and so long as no animals or trees are harmed during the proceedings, (which, due to Greenies commonly hitting on one of the latter, may not always be guaranteed.)

However, it is hard to avoid personally attacking some of the more freakier and more demented in this brave but sick new rainbow world of ours, when one of them insists on regularly going public with ‘his’ freak-fest-generated fantasies and delusions after getting voted in by his (apparently) equally-freakish, equally-demented and equally-deluded electorate. So, for this article, the gloves are off (as readers may have noted by the previous sentence.)

I’m speaking now, of course, of the Melbourne Soviet’s head commie and prominent Green lunatic, Adam Bandt, who yesterday put aside his ridiculous gender-fluidity hysteria for a moment to spout equally-ridiculous climate-change hysteria about Cyclone Debbie. The idea that the construction of a new coal-fired power station would threaten the lives of Queenslanders by generating more cyclones additionally shows how infantile Bandt is, and just how stupid he presumes the public to be. Further, taking the occasion of impending danger to tens of thousands of Queenslanders as an opportunity to score a point was nothing short of cheap. (Contributing to Australia’s energy shortage by pushing for the Hazlewood closure also makes Bandt an economic criminal, but that’s another story.)

Therefore, many of my readers would rightly agree with me that, on the available evidence, Adam Bandt is a cheap, presumptuous, opportunistic and rather shitty little pervert (but not necessarily in that order), with criminal tendencies, who clearly has no place in a civilised society. That is unless, of course, Australian civil society is controlled by a ruthless regime of Stasi-like political-thought police ready to arrest you at the drop of a hat for merely farting in their general direction*. In which case, it might be wiser instead for me to drag out a somewhat passé, but still rather useful Aussie term of endearment, and merely dismiss Adam Bandt as a f**king little poofta and leave it at that.


*Which many of us in secret (I’m certain) often do.


Posted in Adam Bandt, Cyclone Debbie, Hazlewood Power Station | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Turkey or Not Turkey, That Is The Question

Recep Tayyip Erdogan

Today’s news that Recep Erdogan is toying with the idea of giving his people a vote on EU membership is really one for the books.  It’s probably just a ruse for him to pretend he’s still interested in joining, when he hasn’t got a chance, but nevertheless, it is surprising.

But, to the point, who would have expected this guy – a narcissistic megalomaniac Islamist who purges his armed forces and civil service of any opposition, massacres Kurds, gaols political opponents, shuts down newspapers, “disappears” journalists, supports the Muslim Brotherhood and funds “moderate head-chopping” (not during Ramadan) Jihadists – who would have expected this dictatorial arse-wipe (for that is what he is) to be giving the EU elites a lesson in democracy by consulting his own people on whether they want to join a sinking ship or not?
Not me.

Shouldn’t it have been the other way around?
Shouldn’t those imperious tossers running the EU’s sinking ship display at least a modicum of Erodogan’s (implied) magnanimity? Shouldn’t they at least step down, if only briefly, from their heavily-fortified ivory towers and grant the great European unwashed an opportunity to vote against the idea of sinking the ship even faster by admitting 75 million more Muslims into the EU? Even if they, like all the other referendums before it, ignore the result?
Yes, they should.

And what about Erdogan’s recent crazed rants about the so-called “fascists” in Holland, Germany and Austria not allowing the AKP to campaign among the Turkish millions already embedded in their filthy infidel countries to give Erdogan even more executive powers? And what about his Foreign Minister, Mevlut Cavusoglu, threatening that holy wars will soon break out on the streets of Europe as a result? Isn’t that an even more compelling reason to give Europeans a vote on the speed at which they want to commit suicide?
Yes it is.

And how about Erdogan’s manic yearning for the Ottoman Empire’s come-back? That is, the one that inflicted 623 years of sharia-inspired wars and misery on the European populace? Isn’t this nostalgia in itself enough to make the EU elites conclude the plebs they preside over should at least have a vote about Turkey’s admission, because letting them in might not be such a “good fucking idea”* after all?
Yes it is.

But that mad German chick who effectively runs the place has already made up her mind, She, along with Tusk and the rest of the EU’s unrepresentative swill that grovels to Islam at every opportunity. So is it any wonder Britain decided to get the hell out and millions of other Europeans want to do the same?
No, it isn’t.


*Angela Merkel. (From her autobiography, ‘Eine Kleine Twat Mutti’)

Posted in Angela Merkel, Donald Tusk, EU, Ottoman Empire | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment