Dazzling Darrin Hodges‘ blog Anglo-Australian National Community Council — er, that is, Hodges and his dog, who together maintain a watching brief on the Muslim menace threatening Orstraya — made a special guest appearance on Media Watch tonight, as evidence of the manner in which, when they take wing, media falsehoods have a tendency to land in some fairly bizarre nests. Dazza’s blog entry is titled ‘How you are made to pay Jizya‘, while the story itself concerns a report in the Herald Sun of May 9 regarding the supposed expenditure of close to $500 million by the Federal Government on ‘Muslim assimilation’. Two weeks later, the same story was mirrored in one of Uncle Rupert’s other quality papers, the Courier Mail:
Muslim millions missing
May 24, 2007
NEARLY half a billion dollars may have been spent on a… national plan to help assimilate Muslims into Australian society — but it is not clear exactly where the money has gone…
As reported on Media Watch, the actual amount of filthy lucre put aside for some kinda cultural assimilation program (which apparently forms part of a National Action Plan), was more like $461,000 — and it wasn’t dedicated to ‘assimilating’ Muslims in any case. Nevertheless, on the basis of the Herald Sun‘s reportage, boofhead Neil Mitchell, a local Melbourne shock-jock (today honoured by Queen Betty by being made an ‘Officer of the Order of Australia’ — “The award is a recognition of the things for which I am a funnel”, he said) then picked up the ball and went running; the story has also been the subject of bigoted fuckwittery on Scumfront, unsurprisingly. The White Man’s fury was sparked despite the fact that the Herald Sun buried a retraction regarding their, ah, slight over-estimation of the costs (but not nature) of the program the following day; typically, a correction published at the bottom of another column complaining about how much refugees cost the long-suffering Aussie taxpayer (Refugee problems tackled, May 10, 2007):
The Herald Sun wrongly reported yesterday that $461 million was allocated in the Budget to help Muslim communities integrate into the Australian community. The package, to build social cohesion, harmony and security, is in fact worth $461,000 in funding to the states and territories in 2007-08, and $513,000 in federal programs.
In other news:
Well well, bloody hell. My blog’s been undergoing a transition recently, and like other transitions, unfortunately, it hasn’t been all beer and skittles. Thus, while I’ve been meaning to blog about a number of subjects — the G8 summit in Germany (hello insultadarity), and the conclusion to the recent series of prosecutions of eco-radicals in the US, in particular — for technical reasons, I really haven’t been able to. I’ve also been wanting to work through the pile of unpublished posts I’ve been accumulating, on subjects such as hatred for the rich; an amusing episode of fraud involving a number of Trotskyist groups in Eastern Europe a few years ago; musings on Andrew Bolt’s unique contribution to current affairs journalism; definitions of ‘globalisation’; a review of the Second Latin America and Asia Pacific Gathering(!); the Cronulla pogrom and its political aftermath; an analysis of the role of The Australian newspaper in articulating a ruling class consensus on industrial relations; anarchism and Christianity; and more besides.
Another day, maybe.
In the meantime, I thought I may as well write a few words regarding a few words I’ve been reading… if only because I occasionally need reminding… that as each day bleeds into the next… as the weeks, months and years pass… and as I inch slowly towards the grave… the reasons why my mind is so often full of such happy, life-affirming thoughts also occasionally requires explaining.
In a rare excursion into the world of fiction, I actually went and bought myself a crime novel: Ian Rankin‘s The Naming of the Dead. The front cover blurb declares that Rankin is “unmatched in the field of British crime fiction” (The Times), which really doesn’t say much for the current state of the genre, as the novel is fairly tedious. Of course, the reason I bought it is ‘cos this particular episode in the continuing adventures of Detective Inspector John Rebus is set in July 2005, during the G8 meeting in Gleneagles. (And the reason I read it is ‘cos I bought it.) Despite Rebus being touted as being something of an ‘anarchist’ (that is, he sometimes bends or breaks the rules), however, Rankin relies on the usual tropes to describe the summit and its opposition — which, like the novel as a whole, is simply tiresome. It does have at least one funny line in it but:
In the corridor, she leaned against the wall and let her head drop.
‘Long day?’ Rebus guessed.
‘You ever tried questioning a German anarcho-syndicalist?’
On a more serious note, Dreamer of the Day: Francis Parker Yockey and the Postwar Fascist International by Kevin Coogan (Autonomedia, New York, 1999) is an interesting read, and Loren Goldner’s written a worthwhile review of it too, available here. Of that, more later. In the meantime, here’s another review, stolen from antifa.org.uk, of a film I haven’t seen called This Is England, one which prompted a recent, similarly-flawed article about skinhead in The Observer. As Roddy says: “Keep on keeping on against the Bonehead scum that stand for nothing but cowardice… Always stand firm against this threat. FUCK FASCISM.”
Another film about skins, fascism and ‘personal journeys’ that does nobody any favours (except the fash).
As always we have a protagonist who is too young, stupid, and ‘in pain’ to resist the charms of the evil, yet hugely charismatic — and curiously articulate — nazi. There are other players in the story, of course, all of whom are either dull, flimsy or annoying.
After being treated to the usual bonding, having-a-larf, shit-racist-behaviour, written to a formula and similar to Ritchie’s style-over-reality approach to violence (and therefore quite entertaining), we are treated to the de rigeur diatribe by [a National Front] leader that is delivered with clarity and conviction. (For previous examples of this sort of lazy, “they’re so fascinating” shit see Romper Stomper, American History X or The Believer).
This is England falls into the same trap as all of the above films in that the nazi always self-destructs / is eaten by his own hatred or just sees the light ‘cos he’d forgotten about his black mate. There is shamefully little counter-political argument in all these films.
If you didn’t know better you could come away from this film as you could with the others thinking “Yeah he might have been a nutter, but what he said still makes sense”, and if you’re not as squeamish about violence as the makers of these films are you might not even think the ‘baddies’ were that ‘bad’. Another missed opportunity, and a crying fucking shame because Meadows has made some brilliant films (see Small Time).
But there is some hope. According to the formula, the hatred and pain of a thousand injustices done to him will eventually lead Nick Griffin to kill his family and die in a hail of bullets delivered by his jilted sidekick Collett.