On that we are agreed.
Gillian Triggs gets a lesson about armed guards, Long Bay Gaol and effective policy (Michael Smith)
Triggs performance discussed:
The Islamic State boasts of shooting and beheading unarmed civilians. Yet some Sydney Muslims still collect money for the Islamic State and wear its flag.Â Other Australian Muslims promote it on FacebookÂ and wear its merchandising.
Yet some on the Left would still rather attack those trying to combat this clear and present evil rather than seem judgmental of Muslim extremists. It’s a very curious way of seeming broadminded and tolerant, to actually be closeminded and vicious, butÂ John Birmingham attempts it:
Planning on setting up a Caliphate out the back of your falafel shop in Lakemba? Not on Tony’s team, mate. You take down that black flag right now, Mustafa. And while you’re at it, what’s wrong with a good old fashioned Chiko Roll?
Of course, on closer inspection, the black flags which advance through Tony Abbott’s fevered dreams, marching in from the badlands to threaten our strategic harbour front redoubts, turn out not to be the banners of ISIL, or ISIS or whatever the murderous beards are calling themselves this week. No, looking at things just a little bit closer than the PM would like, we find the war banners of western Sydney’s jihadi to be cheap plastic novelties, the skull and crossbones flown over student share houses or, and this is a genuine worry, the battle standard of hated All Blacks; the true enemy within.
Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.
Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, ‘ow’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll.
George Orwell, too:
A humanitarian is always a hypocrite, and Kipling’s understanding of this is perhaps the central secret of his power to create telling phrases. It would be difficult to hit off the one-eyed pacifism of the English in fewer words than in the phrase, ‘making mock of uniforms that guard you while you sleep’… He sees clearly that men can only be highly civilized while other men, inevitably less civilized, are there to guard and feed them.