A Queer Conversation.

Kevin’s puppy, being diminutive, had squeezed its way into my yard through our common fence. That was no problem for me, but it was for the lorikeet that had just descended from above to beg a few nibbles from my pantry. Tucking Junior under my arm I made off for Kevin’s front door at which the predictable chat about recalcitrant animals took place. Then I asked ……….

“So, do you think the plebiscite will go your way”? I was referring to the imminent postal vote about to happen in Australia where the electorate would say YES or NO to changing the constitutional definition of marriage to allow marriage for homosexuals, or not.

Kevin had a tendency to swear a lot, which may have been to lend a macho bent to his effeminate vocals. “Fucking waste of time and money as far as Nigel and I are concerned. Mate, the people who look down on us with their snide remarks and their high-and -mighty judgments are not suddenly about to accept us if we get married. Like: ‘Oh Hi Nige and Kevin, I hear you’re married, why don’t you both come around for dinner’? That’ll be the fucking day! The people who accept us or reject us now are not going to change their attitude because we get married.”

I added: “So, getting married wouldn’t make any difference to you”?

“Mate,” he said, “Why the fuck would we? This house is in both names. Our wills are made out to each other and we get each others’ super when one croaks. There’s bugger all that we don’t get that regular marrieds do. Well, except that Nige’s two kids will get whatever he willed to them. I mean the gay community themselves are not gunna think better or worse of their fellow gays for getting married, and neither are the homophobes; the bigots are gunna stay bigots. Still, I dunno, we might do it just for the party and a get-together with our friends. I’ll leave the decision to Nige. I couldn’t care one way or the other to be honest”.

That was the crux of  our chat. His request that I cut down some branches that hung over the fence and dropped some seeds and leaves onto his property is not worth the telling.

ancestry, australia, CULTURE, ESSAYS


Now, dear reader, that you have fallen for the clickbait headline, let me say that it is quite true, mostly.

For 40 years Catholic priests were not permitted entry to Australia from settlement in 1778 until 1820 when Frs. Therry and Conolly arrived. Let me qualify this.

A Catholic priest, Fr. Dixon, had come to the country around 1802, but he came as a convict having been sentenced for collusion in the Irish rebellion. He did eventually become a freeman and said a public mass. The Governor relented too in 1817 by allowing a Fr. O’Flynn into the country; alas, he was sent packing after a year. Finally, in 1820, 42 years after the First Landing, the first two permanent priests were permitted entry. Thus, for almost half a century tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of left-footers suffered religious persecution. “Persecution” is not too strong-a-word since the practice of that brand of faith centred around the Sacraments which only priests could perform.

Why was it so?

THUMBNAIL VERSION: Simply, the Micks in England and Ireland had been suppressed ever since Fat Henry; and Cromwell had done a job on killing off lots of Micks in the fair isle. Those feisty Irish though wouldn’t go down without kicking up a stink and priests were viewed as leaders or potential leaders of rebellions and sedition. Moreover, they were viewed as loyalists to the Vatican before they would give loyalty to the Crown. To be sure, to be sure, they would surely cause trouble in the new colony.

PERSONAL ASIDE: Cromwell’s genocide necessitated Irish ancestors, such as my own, to adopt the survival measure of having half the family convert to protestantism while the other half remained Catholic. From ancestral enquiries, this occurred in both my and my wife’s family – although my ancestors were Irish gentry, while hers were Scottish criminals deported to the Great Southern Prison [earning their title as Australian Royalty]. As both sets of ancestors wound up in Van Diemen’s Land [Tasmania], they were deprived of the ability to practice their faith fully, having their offspring baptised, married or buried by a Methodist minister, of which there was just one in them there wilds of Northern Tassie.  It is a matter of record that through the descendency the true faith returned to this amalgam of allegiances; none ever took up arms against the colonial gummint, while plenty of them fought – and plenty died – in both World Wars.

The first Christian Brothers – Bodkin, Lynch and Tracey – didn’t arrive until 1868 to offer Catholic education to young men, 90 years after settlement. They founded CBC Parade in Melbourne, my alma mater.

But the persecution was not quite over. Enter Archbishop Mannix [Melbourne, 1913-1963].

Manic Mannix was a fly in the Gummint ointment throughout, mainly due to his conflicting views of conscription. At one point, due to return to Ireland for a vacation, he was advised that his return would be refused re-entry, – so he didn’t go. In true Irish spirit he found a way to present the Gummint with a middle-finger salute. St. Patrick’s Day Parade was Melbourne’s biggest public event by far and was usually led by the Arch in an open car – as per the picture above. On said occasion, to show the great civic powers that it was He who had the support of the soldiery, not them, his vehicle was preceded by a dozen VC winners on white chargers – again, as this picture shows. That was tellin’ ’em!

There we have it. No Great March on the Sydney Harbour for a Reconcilliation with the Micks. No apology for the suppression and persecution of one religion. No compensation or reverse discrimination. No special benefits. No Sorry Day.

No – we descendants would not even think of it. Demeaning. Perish the thought. FECK OFF THEN AND LET’S GET ON WITH LIFE.

australia, CULTURE


Meet Shen Narayanasamy, Human Rights CEO at Get Up. Shen has made this video criticizing Senator Pauline Hanson’s [Australian Parliament] rhetoric and policy against Muslim immigration and calls for debate and a Royal Commission on the issue.

Shen does not critique Hanson’s stance; rather she indulges in an ad hominem attack via the implication of the ‘damages’ that Hanson is responsible for. Her presentation can be summarized thus:

  • when Hanson is on TV you don’t feel safe
  •  she opens the door to bullying at school
  •  invites racial discrimination in the workplace
  •  incites violence on the streets
  •  Muslim women will be put in danger on the streets
  •  she is a Liberal [Party] Right tool for divisive debate
  •  indulges in rhetoric that is hurtful and dangerous
  •  is racist [by virtue that Shen calls for leaders who will stand up to racism.] .   …..

Without addressing each of her accusations, suffice to say this is quite typical of the Snowflake tactic of self-projection – indulge in the rhetoric of the one you accuse. No, Shen, Hanson’s call for a debate and her argument to support her platform has supportive weight by virtue of Islamic terrorism, gang thuggery, no-go zones, non-assimilation, human rights abuses against women and so on. These are what you should be refuting, not indulging in scare tactics of your own. The Conquest mentality of various Australian Islamic groups should be questioned by you if you really care about the promulgation of Quranic hatred, rather than insult the multitude of populist voters who are concerned about the repurcussions of unfettered Muslim migration.

Aussies by and large, right or left, appreciate where the Senator  [love her or loathe her] is coming from; and the motivation of simplistic racism can be easily refuted. But what about Shen? What is her angle?

Shen is an attractive 35 year old lawyer into multiculti; of immigrant Hindu Tamil parents; has two young children by her partner, Robbie Russo; and has become the prominent face of refugee advocacy and defender of children’s rights. All admiral stuff, and I particularly like her colorful Indian garb of sari and turban-like head-dress……. and I have no issue that her cultural appearance is Northern Indian rather than Tamil Nadu based. I don’t care if this is an affectation or a xenophilic trait. She can wear what she likes in my book [so long as she is prepared to shake my hand and reveal her face]. But I do care that she is using fear tactics and emotive argument. I do care that she forgoes reason, logic and argument. I do care that she promotes open borders that endanger our ultimate freedom of  movement and speech. I do care that she uses hyperbole to the point of lying when she argues immigration statistics.

I also care, with great concern, that she has come out in support of the Gaby Baby program and presumably other like programs instituted by the Cultural Marxists which are an abuse of our children.

So, anyway, perhaps the most salient question is: Who is Shen’s boss?

That would be George Soros!… perhaps by proxy, but Doctor Evil it is nonetheless, as he funds Get Up which is instituted to carry out the Soros Agenda of the destruction of Western society and National Sovereignty. [He funds too the refugee hijra crisis in Europe, the Black Lives Matter movement, and so on].

This opinion piece is not digressing into a Soros thesis, so I will leave readers who may not be familiar with this ideologue a link giving his plans from his own mouth. [Have the smelling salts close by]…….