The therapeutic powers of religion can be quite amazing. There’s your sick and miserable Aussie jihadist lacking the energy to do much more than grow a beard, cash a disability cheque and whine about the indignity of sharing a country with infidels. But then, by the simple act of hopping a plane to Syria, he is suddenly fighting fit and imbued with the desire to, er, get a head.
The much-put-upon Australian taxpayer funds many activities that, if given a choice, he or she would prefer to see supported by the rattling of a cup. Alas, such is the nature of our modern world that there is no option but to comply, as Canberra’s enthusiasm for funding alleged practitioners of the arts (and their sisters), long-winded advocates of multicultural niceness, assorted climbers on the climate-change bandwagon and Sunday morning chin-wags for the left and like-minded is equalled only by its punitive power to make life miserable for those who demur.
But head-loppers? Yes, indeed, we’re also supporting the shock troops of Islam’s moocherhideen.