Dan Sultan
Aboriginal activist and ‘musician’

The problem with the allegation that Australia is a racist country is not that it’s true, but that we can’t easily deport deranged activists like Dan Sultan who repeatedly keep alleging that it is. Changing the date of Australia Day won’t make them shut up. Removing statues or adding plaques to existing ones won’t make them shut up. And renaming all our towns, suburbs, streets, mountains, rivers, etc to something non-Whitey-sounding definitely won’t make them shut up either.

They’ll  always find something else to justify their ridiculous claims about racist Australia, just as did that Mad Muzzie Magied (MMM) idiot who regularly complained about the “white as f**k” Queensland population, and about the “unspeakably white as f**k” reflection of her teeth she gets back from the mirror every morning.

And, as I said, we can’t just deport these indigenous whiners, no matter how unreasonable they are, because they were here first, apparently. “NOT the Vikings, at ALL!”, Jacqui Lambie once screamed at me from the bathroom, in a fit of rage after a particularly rough bout of sex, so it must have been her people.

There seems little else we can do with activists like the tone-deaf (judging by his music) Sultan, other than suffer their incessant whingeing every time we switch channels. It’s true, yes, we can always switch the telly off, I guess, because there’s always good movies to watch.

Uplifting stories, full of nostalgia, set in the colonial era, such as ‘Zulu’, for example, where the recalcitrant locals could be slaughtered and mowed down on mass without fearing some senile old bitch on the AHRC later spoiling the fun by having you thrown in gaol on trumped-up human rights violations. Good old days, or not, watching Zulu, however, does run the risk of reminding you too much of how much everyone would really like to smash Stan Grant’s face in with the butt of a Lee Enfield, so maybe not a good movie to watch (more than a few hundred times, that is.)

Then there’s The Vikings movie itself, where you can cheer and clap as the Norsemen  demonstrate how admirably robust and effective their methods of subduing the local populaces were in those days, compared to those of their wimpy, relatively poofy, limp-wristed British counterparts 1,000 odd years later. Unfortunately, the locals being cleaved in two by axes and what-not were often Anglo-Saxons – but I think we’re a lot better for it, don’t you?

But I digress.
If  Sultan just won’t shut up, and we can’t leave him alone in a room with a revolver to do the decent thing, and he can’t be deported, perhaps he can be convinced to take a leaf out of MMM’s book and bugger off to London for a while. Maybe that will make him see sense and stop whining. Not that MMM ever will, unless she drops all that Muzzie shit of hers, but with the non-Muslim Sultan, there is always that possibility he will recognise the nonsense he’s spouting and shut the f**k up.