Sunday, March 15, 2009

Piers Akerman, the black problem, the leftie problem, and the missionary way forward

You know, the thing I most regret growing up the way I did in Australia, is that I didn't grow up indigenous. You know, black. Really black. Noir.

That way I'd have been infused with a mystical understanding of the land. I'd know how to burn the shit out of it on a regular basis, thereby showing to greenies and lefties how best to manage the land - a mystical understanding that was sadly lost to us until Piers Akerman, aka the fat owl of the remove, came along to remind us that burning the shit out of the land was the best way to manage everything. The noble blacks knew it. 

Unfortunately that seems to be about the extent of black wisdom and black culture. As a result, after my mystical training in traditional Aboriginal ways, I'd have experienced the profound benefits of being adopted, nurtured, cherished and supported - at vast taxpayers' expense - by white culture.

If I was lucky, I'd have been put in a mission, and with even a bit more luck, I'd have been trained for service in white people's households. I would have known my place, and earned a buck or two in rations, and been very civilized. You see, it's the white man's burden to have to deal with the blacks, and always, permanently, sigh, it seems like forever, deal with the black problem.

It's true if I'd been born black, that I'd never be able to understand the world in the exquisite way of a Murdoch columnist. My loss. A profound loss for all blacks. I mean, there's Piers with his column Exposing the myths of Aboriginal history, and he's just so right. He always is about the problem of the blacks.

I mean, blacks are always gambling on horse racing, and playing poker machines, and drinking and smoking and using illicit drugs. White folks never have this problem. Just the pesky blacks. Spending my tax dollars having such a good time, while I'm up at 4 am to go down coal mine.

When you look at the situation of black folks in this country, what a triumph it is for white paternalism. They've really sorted things out, unlike the blacks, who just don't understand that everything white folks do for them is for their ultimate good.

I mean, there they sit with their sorry time, their dole bludging do nothing time, their talk of communities and tribes, and they're just so out of touch with the real world, I think how nice it would be to be black. No sense of responsibility, dole on a regular basis, not a care in the world, a Berri wine cask to hand, and an easy life - not like those poor hard working white folk. Fuck, who wouldn't prefer to be black. Jeez, maybe if I got out the Kiwi polish, I could do one of those silly Eddie Murphy swap movies. I mean, they're so advantaged.

I mean black fairy stories about the creation of the world were always silly, unlike being brought up by Christian folk who understood that we'd been thrown out of the Garden of Eden for our sins (though there seems to be some dispute as to whether black folks were in the garden, or came later as some strange aberrant gene, perhaps produced by sun stroke).

Anyhoo, I think I've worked out the solution to the black problem. Sure we could send them to the "dark continent" (that's Piers-speak for Africa, as it's full of darkies), or we could all go black, but let's face it that'd be unfair to the already hugely advantaged dark folk. 

No, we have to bring back the missions, and set up decent training institutions so the dark folk can get a decent education and learn how to serve white folk again.

That way, they'd know their place and there'd be no need for Piers' regular black-bashing columns.

By the way, if you read Piers' column, it's the standard piece of triumphalism about how the left got it all wrong, and have dominated the culture wars with cries of 'revisionism', whenever historians (all of them?) have tried to put faith before facts in arguments about the so-called Stolen Generation of aboriginal Australians.

Cue Lowitja (formerly Lois, that's white man's talk, and yes Muhammad Ali should still be known as Cassius Clay if you ask me) O'Donoghue, and the news that she wasn't one of the stolen generation. Ergo, QED, the stolen generation never existed.

Nor were the missions and the missionaries the embodiments of wickedness that the Left portrayed them to be.

No, the black folk were much better off under the kindly Christians, Lowitja herself admits it. When the greedy government men came, it all fell apart.

So clearly John Howard was on acid when he ordered the military invasion of the Northern Territory. More government men, doctors, lawyers, do gooders, lefties. And what good have they done? None at all.

Here's the solution: time to herd all the blacks into compounds. After all, they're just children, they don't have a clue, they can't administer their own affairs, heck they can't even handle the dole. It's all the fault of this hangover of traditional Aboriginal culture.

Once the blacks are in the compounds, send in the Christians. Nobody pays much attention to them in the cities anymore - those godforsaken places are full of filthy, deviant, pervert leftie greenie secularist atheist heathens - so the god botherers can head out bush, and bother the blacks into a grand, brand new lifestyle. They'll have to learn to stop drinking, stop smoking, stop gambling, stop betting on the horses, stop listening to Channel Nine commentators urging you to bet on the football every five minutes in their commentary track, and start living a clean, pure life like decent Methodist white folks.

What's that you say, you've only found Piers and one other white who lives this idyllic lifestyle? What about the Catholics? Too busy molesting children? What about the Protestants? Too busy bashing gays? When not indulging in a little on the side? 

Ah well, it was a good idea, but I guess it's back to just putting the blacks in compounds, and letting them sort it out for themselves. But compound's such an ugly word - let's call them town camps, or maybe grass dwellers if they're in a northern clime.

One thing's for sure. I'm really grateful to Piers and O'Donoghue for relieving my mind by undermining the mythical claims about Aboriginal Australians that are regularly promoted by the Government's inner-urban supporters. After all, John Howard was in power for ten years, and in that time the blacks made great strides to become the hugely successful folk they are today, envied and mocked by embittered whites for the way they sit at the very top, the highest pinnacle, of the social strata.

What's that you say? They're still a hugely disproportionate part of the jail system, alcoholism and despair are rife, child abuse is a way of life, and pornography is all the go. And they're not members of the Catholic church?!

Well I'm with Piers. With more Aboriginal Australian children being placed in care than ever before, it is time the patronising stopped and genuine compassionate care administered.

And yes, the last time I administered genuine care, it was six of the best across the baggy pants of the miscreant, and did he learn quickly that compassion can come at the end of a cane.

Whether the darkies like it or not, with all their silly talk about self-determination and independence, and being in control of their own affairs. Humbuggery. They fucked it up. ATSC was a disaster, and so will the new ATSIC Mark II being set up by the Ruddster's lefty mates.

It's time to bring back the missions. And can we exhume George Augustus Robinson? His body might be a bit moldy, but his ideas live on in fine, fresh modern forms, and he did such a good job in Tasmania, I know Piers would be pleased.


Anonymous said...

Comments back to their usual avalanche, sweetie?

The 15 mins were fleeting and the caravan's moved on...

dorothy parker said...

So what the heck are you doing here Brisbane dude? Move along, the caravan of loons is an unending cavalcade. Got to keep up.

BTW, instead of being here, wasting your time, shouldn't you be feasting your eyes on Pauline's tits? That's what gets a tabloid turkey slobbering and hollering for his grits, doesn't it dearie, you darling popsicle.

Sweetie? Kill me with your love talk, you charming devil may care cocksucker.

Anonymous said...

I'm sensing HECs stress there...sweetie.