Michael Connor

Everyday Fairfax hatred


It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Just another day’s hatred from Fairfax. Just part of the rich feast of daily hate served up by the Sydney Morning Herald, The Age, and the rest.

At the Bolt trial, prosecuting lawyer Ron Merkel said: “The Holocaust in the 1940s started with words and finished with violence.” It’s a pity the Left wing lawyer hadn’t looked closer to home. Political violence in Australia comes from the Left, and is nourished with words like these from Fairfax – it was published throughout their tarnished publishing enterprise on April 7.


Bolt trial only serves to feed the beast

John Birmingham

I can’t believe you people. I’m out of the country for five minutes and you decide to have a show trial for Andrew Bolt? What, are you, crazy or something?

Number one, I should have been there to mock and taunt him. Number two, it wouldn’t have made any difference because this guy will be hoovering up the attention like a big hot meal.

I think I’ve earned some cred to speak on matters concerning the Odious Bolt. You were all there with me a few months ago while we waited for the defamation lawyers to painstakingly clear every effing comma and blinding metaphor of the Instrument’s reply to his sick-making attack on Julia Gillard after the refugee boat tragedy.

I stand proudly behind my characterisation of this worthless bloodclot as a worthless bloodclot.

But I’m telling you, hauling him in front of some tribunal to answer half a dozen thought crime charges is a grave mistake.

It’s a mistake because it dignifies the gaping, septic wound that is his column with treatment better reserved for better men. The punitive powers of the law are inappropriate responses to his witless jabbering. We call upon the Law to save us from genuine threats. The appropriate response to Bolt is disdain and mockery and the poking of his readership with sharp sticks in their yellow, suppurating eyeballs.

So what if he upsets and offends?

Just go back at him twice as hard.

So what if he is read – and avidly so – by a veritable legion of mouth-breathing pinheads and shambling inbred fools, by barely closeted homophobes, and racists and the bottom-feeding scum at the foulest end of the rank, sour, stinking swamp that passes for public discourse on the far right?

It’s a free country, even if his moist-handed fanboys wish it wasn’t for certain undesirable demographics. Take away his freedom and you give up your own. And more importantly, mine.

There is no way, in the end, to constrain the Bloodclot, without also constraining those of us who would have at him in the fiercest and most violent terms.

It is vexing, being so far from home, while this plays itself out. The wonders of the interwebz mean I can follow the Bolt trial at some remove, but it is not the same as being there. But perhaps that distance is a blessing. Because standing outside, looking in, the trial of Andrew Bolt looks like a terrible mistake.

He will be rubbing his hands with glee, giddy with excitement at the chance to play the hero. And something has gone utterly, horribly wrong when Bolt gets to feel like a hero.

Source: Sydney Morning Herald

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