There’s a festering sickness within Australia. It has always been there, eating away at the flesh of our collective psyche, but of late its spread has worsened, manifesting in the putrefaction of whole pockets of society. While many, if not most of us refuse to even acknowledge this cancer, it is a cause of despair that those that do have entirely misdiagnosed the condition.
This week at least thirty desperate, vulnerable people perished within a literal stone’s throw of our shore as they sought our protection. As elements of the media celebrated the tragedy as some sort of demented political goal, and decent people looked on in appalled disgust, others gave voice to their small mindedness in a xenophobic tsunami of vitriolic cuntness* almost awe inspiring in its magnitude.
While it is all too easy to view pathetic human failures of print like Andrew Bolt and Miranda Devine as the authors of such repugnant detritus, to do so is to give them undue credit for original thought. They are merely vultures, nourishing themselves on the diseased and dying pathos of a community which has forgotten what it stands for, and how it came to be created in the first place. Seeking to correct the actions of these carrion feeders, who are only acting in accordance with their nature, can achieve nothing without acting to remove their source of sustenance.
Sure, view the vile elements of the media with the pure contempt they deserve, but don’t forget that if there weren’t so many hateful, shamefully stupid racists out there they’d starve. The real problem festers on unchecked.
* OK, that might not be a real word. You think of a better one.