Racist Garbage: Frankly, Adam Goodes Can Go To Hell

NAUSEATING finger-shaking over football crowds booing Sydney Swans player and 2014 Australian of the Year Adam Goodes hit a disgusting new low this week, with media railing against “racist” slurs on Goodes, Twitterati stating #IStandWithAdam, and the AFL making a typically vapid stand on racism in his name. Goodes chose to humiliate a young girl, making her a national target of vilification. He can go to hell if he resents the fallout.

One of the biggest problems with the compassion babblers and finger shakers and their cohorts in the politically correct bleeding heart bullshit industry is that they lie in wait, like an ambush party, just itching for an “issue” to appear so they can punch their “values” down the throats of the rest of the population: and when such an “issue” inevitably materialises they run off half-cocked, missing the point, and arguably doing far more damage than the “issue” they claim to be standing on does in the first place.

It’s become a modern retort against these people that one of the things they do is to start a hashtag — a tool for grouping like-minded comment and output on social media site Twitter — and the most recent misguided, factually incorrect, politically motivated example of it was the cretinous #IStandForMercy campaign, which purported to advocate for executed Bali Nine filth Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran, but which instead amounted to no more than a fictitious but savage personal and political assault on Prime Minister Tony Abbott and, by extension, his government.

Now, they’ve latched onto the fact that football crowds over the past year or so have shown an increasing tendency to boo Sydney Swans player and 2014 Australian of the Year Adam Goodes — and as usual, the noisy, visible campaign they have engineered very conveniently ignores the reason for it, which has nothing to do with racism at all: just the fact that, to put it bluntly, Goodes is a hypocrite and a dickhead who, stereotypically, can dish it out but he can’t take it.

I will talk about Goodes in a moment. But first — seeing politics and football have intersected on this issue — I want to talk about my own club, Carlton.

We have a long and proud tradition of having Aboriginal players at Carlton, beginning with one of the first to ever play the game at the senior VFL/AFL level: Syd Jackson, who played 136 games in the 1970s, and who is rightly revered at Carlton as a dual premiership hero and much-loved icon of our club.

More recently, four of our best players — Andrew Walker, Eddie Betts, Jeff Garlett and Chris Yarran — have come to Carlton from Aboriginal backgrounds.

Betts has gone to Adelaide, and gets booed when we play the Crows: not because he is black, and not simply because he crossed the Rubicon to play at a rival club, but because his departure stemmed from Betts putting a ridiculous price tag on his own head as the cost for staying at Carlton, which was (in the view of supporters and, it seems the club hierarchy) unjustified based on his inconsistent but patchily awe-inspiring output as a small forward and goalsneak.

Most players who go to other clubs, in AFL fan culture, get booed. Just because they do. There’s nothing cerebral to it and certainly nothing racist about it.

Garlett has gone to Melbourne with the best wishes of Carlton fans: not because we are pleased to see the back of a black player, but because like Betts, the gap between “Jeffy” at his best and his worst was cavernous: a fresh start for the player at another club was probably in the best interests of both Garlett and Carlton — and this is a story that plays out at every club at one point or another.

Walker frustrates because, like Garlett, he is inconsistent: but unlike Garlett, he has been far more consistent over 13 seasons than Garlett was over six; and Yarran is widely touted as “trade bait” at the end of this season: not to get rid of a black player, but because there is a sense that the supremely talented, exquisitely skilled, lightning-fast Yarran simply doesn’t fit the club as it begins a total rebuild of its playing list, and that he might fare better — and gain more personally — at a club in premiership contention, which Carlton most certainly is not.

The point is that our members and supporters (who, admittedly, boo Goodes, like everyone else) are not racist and in fact, have embraced Aboriginal players like so many other clubs have done; for whatever reason, these players seem to boast grace and power and speed and skill in levels that are disproportionate with their caucasian counterparts; and far from being a difference that elicits prejudice, the Aboriginal players are revered.

Stories like those of our Aboriginal players at Carlton and the vaulting esteem in which they are held can be found at virtually every AFL club these days, and any booing that goes on (which, to be clear, is something that non-indigenous players get singled out for, too) is never racially motivated: Aboriginal players get the same treatment from football crowds as everyone else does — which is as it should be — and if they get booed at all, they have done something specific to warrant it.

Were it racially motivated, then every Aboriginal player would be booed every time they set foot on a football field which, quite clearly, they are not.

Many of them are names that bring people to football games just to see them play. And until very recently, one of those names was Adam Goodes.

Miranda Devine, writing in Sydney’s Daily Telegraph today, sets out the case against Goodes with a clarity that is sorely lacking among some of her contemporaries, including at her own newspaper: and she also sets out the mythical “redneck man” supposedly responsible for a crusade against Goodes, which is said to be racist, bigoted, and based on nothing more than the colour of his skin. Nothing could be further from the truth. I urge everyone to read Miranda’s article today.

Back in 2013, Goodes was instrumental in singling out and publicly shaming a 13-year-old girl who had called him “an ape” at a Sydney vs Collingwood match she attended with her grandmother, and whilst there may have been racial overtones to the sledge, the very culture of football blurs the line in positively determining that the comment was in fact racist: and in any case, Goodes’ behaviour over the incident was so far over the top, excessive, and out of all realistic proportion as to defy belief that even a passionate advocate against racism and Aboriginal disadvantage could lower himself to indulge in it.

Australian football — a game where “gorillas” are prized on team lists because of their size, power and capacity to physically intimidate opponents — itself blurs the line over whether “an ape” might be a racist characterisation, or at least in part another variety of a “gorilla;” one multiple premiership coach was revered for playing “mongrels” on every line, and this reference to dogs was never leapt upon by the sanctimony brigade in outrage in the way a young girl’s taunt that Goodes was “an ape” was.

But let’s just set aside the cultural references within the game itself that might have led an impressionable kid to think calling Goodes “an ape” was acceptable, and look at his response.

As Miranda notes, Goodes could see this kid was very young — he guessed 14, when in fact she was even younger than that.

Yet that didn’t stop him from demanding the AFL’s rent-a-cops single her out, march her from the grandstand, after which she was held and presumably interrogated for more than two hours, until beyond midnight, whilst separated from her grandmother.

The girl must have been absolutely terrified. Goodes is not a stupid fellow. He did not come down in the proverbial last shower. He knows how the AFL works. He must have had at least some inkling of how AFL officials would respond once he sooled them onto her.

In this era of live telecasting of AFL matches against the gate — and especially a high-profile clash between power clubs like Sydney and Collingwood — the entire demeaning episode, including the girl being frogmarched out of the stadium by the AFL’s goons, was beamed live around the country to a TV audience numbering in the millions.

Yet not content with this success, and apparently driven by a total disregard for the emotional welfare of a 13-year-old child who had already been nationally shamed, Goodes fronted the media the following day to declare that “racism has a face, and it is a 13-year-old girl.”

To do this — in spite of the humiliation and vilification that had been heaped upon her the night before, and with the apparent forethought suggested by having taken the time to consider what he would tell the press when they next asked him about it — speaks to Goodes, despite whatever else he might be, being a prick: nothing more, nothing less.

I don’t condone racism for a moment, and certainly not in professional sport. But this episode, by Goodes’ own actions, represents something else entirely.

The girl subsequently apologised to Goodes and wrote him a letter, but the damage was done: and whilst Goodes did and does enjoy the shelter of not just the AFL community but of the entire grandstanding, moralising, finger-waving lobby of Chardonnay drunks and social campaigners who are just looking to destroy people in the name of the causes they are obsessed with — to the total exclusion in most cases of any sense of decency, balance, or common sense — this young kid, who herself comes from a severely compromised background as the disadvantaged child of a single mother on a disability pension, had nobody to defend her and no voice of mass reach to counter the malicious onslaught Goodes’ apparently carefully considered words unleashed.

I am sick of hearing about Adam Goodes, and so are an awful lot of ordinary, decent, unbigoted people.

I personally don’t boo Goodes when I see him at the football, although I am also intellectually honest enough — unlike the PC chatterati set driving the “Adam has been racially vilified” bandwagon — to know there is nothing racist behind it. Not now. He was complicit in trying to destroy a little girl’s world in retaliation for one poorly chosen remark at a football game. He should, in fact, be ashamed of himself.

The fact he claimed late in the week to be unable to play football at the weekend because the controversy around being booed by crowds had all become too much for him to cope with is a claim that, regrettably, cuts no ice where I’m concerned.

Racially provoked or not, Goodes’ response unleashed consequences on the girl that were out of all proportion, unjustified and unjustifiable, and which could cause permanent psychological damage to someone who arguably wasn’t even old enough to fully comprehend what she had done wrong, let alone be a suitable target for making an example of her on a national stage.

But Goodes can’t handle the fact that the episode has directly led to football crowds viewing him very, very poorly.

He’s had AFL matches at the weekend all making faux stands against racism — ostensibly in his name — because people dare to hold him to account, the only way they can, for the frightful and malevolent approach he took to a 13 year old child, for goodness’ sake.

He’s had journalists and opinion makers all over the country coming out of the woodwork, suggesting anyone who dares to boo Goodes — or even to criticise him at all — is, unambiguously, a racist and a bigot, wildly generalised and thoroughly misguided statements that should be dismissed with the contempt they deserve.

He’s had the army of do-gooders on Twitter who ache for causes to shame and pillory and crucify people over tweeting that #IStandWithAdam which, presumably, means they fully sanction what he did to that poor girl.

The vengeful bent of reprisal that drove Goodes that night does not speak to a fair, forgiving or even reasonable mindset, whatever the provocation.

And the low regard in which he has subsequently been held by a solid portion of both the football public and the wider community is something for which he only has himself to blame.

Nobody forced Goodes — who, again, would have had a very clear idea of the likely fallout — to shame and humiliate that kid, and make her life a living misery in front of a national audience and abetted by the finger-shakers whose instincts are to destroy, rather than to heal or to reconcile.

That he now can’t handle the response — or if he doesn’t like the fact that the character his actions ultimately shredded was his own, not that of the girl in question — is of little interest, and no cause for sympathy, let alone the imbecilic outpouring that has taken place in recent days.

If you’re just a dickhead, you’re just a dickhead: and as far as I’m concerned, that particular shoe fits Adam Goodes. It has nothing to do with the fact he’s black.

If Goodes doesn’t like the fact those who once admired him now harbour nothing but contempt, he will just have to get over it; and the fact decent people without a racist bone in their bodies refuse to forgive the retaliatory experience he inflicted on a child does not constitute racism in any way — rather, the total horror that anyone would find it appropriate to put the poor girl through what Goodes, knowingly, saw fit to put her through at all.

And to date, no apology for that has been forthcoming.

In short, Adam Goodes can go to hell. And if he wants to complain any more about his lot where these issues are concerned, the hitherto slavering press pack ought to tell him to tell his story walking.

There are plenty of other Aboriginal identities who make excellent role models for their communities, and good Australian people from other backgrounds embrace them openly, as they once did Goodes.

If Goodes is no longer regarded by many people as one of them, there is nothing “racist” about it.

 

No Friend: The Real Truth Behind The Bali Nine Executions

WHETHER YOU AGREE with the sentences carried out on Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran today, the Prime Minister is right to recall Australia’s ambassador to Jakarta; behind the campaign to “save” the pair lies an unpleasant reality that has been laid bare by their executions: under its present leadership at least, Indonesia is a dubious friend of Australia at best. We would do well to recalibrate our approach to our northern neighbour.

This has been a divisive and distasteful episode whichever way you cut it, and the executions of recidivist drug traffickers has seen proponents of the death penalty find much common ground with the secondary positions of those who oppose it, and others who eschew capital punishment find succour in other points made by those who advocate that sit below the headline positions of each.

With support for capital punishment in Australia (I believe) growing, irrespective of the executions that took place in Indonesia this morning — one only has to take stock of the outpouring of sentiment whenever a recidivist criminal on release rapes or murders someone else, or the residual outrage against the likes of Julian Knight and Martin Bryant, and other pieces of shit like them — the entire saga, if nothing else, probably suggests it is time for a serious debate over the issue domestically even if such a conversation results in no change to our own system of penalties and sentences.

But distinct hints of an unpleasant reality have emerged throughout the Chan/Sukumaran case, and particularly since the change of government in Indonesia last year, that Australia would be most unwise to ignore.

I’m not going to catalogue anew my arguments over Chan and Sukumaran today; they can be accessed (for those now morbidly concerned with them) here, here and here.

And the offensive, idiotic, brainless stunt yesterday by members of Australia’s acting community that we ripped into late last night, whether you agree with or oppose capital punishment, probably served as a provocation to Indonesian officials that did more harm than good, and whilst we will now never know if a last-minute reprieve might have been secured for the pair, the reprieve given (literally) at the death knock to a Filipino national due to be executed with them shows the possibility was certainly alive in the minds of the Indonesian leadership.

My point in writing this morning derives from the simple fact — evidenced in how events have played out in the Chan/Sukumaran case — that under its current leadership, it is difficult to see how Indonesia can be regarded as a friend to Australia, and if some good can come from their deaths is should be the recognition that the controversy surrounding the Bali Nine has laid bare a cavalier disregard in Jakarta for Australian interests, and this ominous fact is one that should prompt a rethink in Canberra over how we approach an undeniably crucial strategic relationship.

Whilst generalisations invariably contain exceptions, and whilst not all of the traffic in the relationship between the two administrations has been a one-way street, it is no exaggeration to assert that Indonesia has ignored and snubbed the federal government, refused to open communication channels between its President and our Prime Minister, and at times has appeared to revel in the pursuit of administering a regime of justice that the Australian government has consistently and forcefully opposed.

I don’t have the time this morning to spend a great deal of time elaborating on the point; life goes on, and today I’m very busy, and in any case it scarcely seems decent to labour the point.

But this is an unpalatable reality that transcends whether you agree with capital punishment or not; the signs of total Indonesian indifference to the priorities of Australia (unless they coincide with Indonesia’s) has been clear for all to see in recent times, and it follows plenty of other examples of it that have had nothing at all to do with the fate of condemned drug traffickers sitting on death row in Kerobokan prison.

Whether you agreed with the bipartisan position advanced by Abbott, his Foreign minister Julie Bishop, and supported and endorsed by Labor, the fact remains that Indonesia has thumbed its nose at Australia — to the extent, that is, that it hasn’t simply ignored us.

And the fact it chose to commute the sentence of one convict from the Philippines at the last possible moment simply must be interpreted as a signal of Indonesia’s real priorities in the region and its contempt for Australia, however much it might have been a bona fide show of justice in its own right.

The fracas over ASIO surveillance of Indonesian figures — conducted on the watch of the Rudd government, but expediently used by Indonesia to pick a fight with an Australian government of a completely different complexion — is another example of what I am talking about.

And its threats, simply distilled, to unleash a “human tidal wave” of asylum seekers toward Australia if, in short, our government didn’t stop making trouble and noise over Chan and Sukumaran’s sentences is yet another.

These are discussions to be had in full, of course, at another time and when passions and tempers and emotions have all cooled, and when I return this evening (time permitting) it will be to talk about something unrelated to Indonesia that I have “held over” for a couple of days.

Yet have that discussion we must: for the growing frostiness in relations between Australia and Indonesia is unmistakable.

It would be unwise to assume that that country, under the regime presently in charge of it, is friendly to Australia, or even a friend at all: and whilst better weather will no doubt come in the fullness of time, as others come to power in Jakarta who are possessed of a different outlook to Joko Widodo and the interests that back him, this increasingly evident reality will pose problems for the next few years at least that those who shape our policies toward regional neighbours would be ill-advised to ignore.

 

 

“Mercy?” Moronic Video A Final Insult In Name Of Chan, Sukumaran

BALI NINE ringleaders Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran will almost certainly soon be dead, with capital penalties for drug crimes to be carried out after midnight; but an imbecilic video featuring supposed luminaries of Australia’s arts fraternity is a final insult to those who think the narcotics trade is insidious, and those who ply it evil. This puerile stunt — saturated in ignorance — unjustifiably politicises a reality in which no-one wins.

Let’s be honest about something: anyone who supports the death penalty — as I do — certainly doesn’t think what is about to happen to Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran is some sort of euphoric triumph, a victory of right and might over evil, or some vindictively based get-square that will leave those opposed to it somehow reeling and wallowing in the miserable depths of some irretrievable defeat.

In fact, it’s very sad; and whilst I have neither sympathy for Chan and Sukumaran nor a problem with the punishment they will shortly receive, they have families and law-abiding friends who no more deserve the grief and notoriety and disrepute the pair have brought them than those families who lost loved ones to the insidious scourge of narcotic drugs deserved the terrible fate Chan and Sukumaran sought to inflict on them, wilfully and for profit, and for which they will shortly pay with their lives.

There are no winners here, and to be blunt, any last-minute reprieve that seems certain not to eventuate would do nothing to resurrect the countless souls lost to drug overdoses and the rapes, murders, violence and other savagery that goes hand-in-glove with the drug trade.

It wouldn’t actually do Chan and Sukumaran much good either: it would martyr the pair, even if they lived to tell the tale, and turn them into a precedent case milked by any Australian whose stupidity landed them in comparable circumstances at some later date. In fact, they would probably (and ironically) regret the fact of their escape for the rest of their lives.

And it would do nothing for those seeking for decency and proper standards to be upheld and spread through the community, and one of the most offensive aspects of this whole saga as far as I am concerned is that this pair of specks of human filth have been feted and treated as virtual saints by Australia’s government, with pathetically abject and grovelling appeals to Indonesia to dispense with its own form of justice for no better reason than a sweeping generalisation that “we don’t support the death penalty in Australia,” and that contention is one I would very much like to see tested at a referendum at some point, for I believe support for capital punishment in Australia carries a clear majority of the voting public with it.

In short though, and to reiterate the point, there are no winners here.

Still, one contemptible band of death penalty opponents has chosen today to make a half-arsed, last-ditch stand, and rather than take aim at Indonesia, its President, its legal system and so forth, it has chosen instead to unjustly politicise the imminent executions of Chan and Sukumaran with a directly political attack on Tony Abbott that, in turn, is indisputably predicated on nothing more than lies and bullshit.

Headed up by allegedly the finest acting talent Australia has produced in Bryan Brown and Geoffrey Rush, this four-and-a-half minute diatribe is a moronic rant whose sole objective is to use the capital penalties meted out in and by Indonesia to damage Tony Abbott, and runs counter to the gargantuan (and in my view, excessive) efforts that have been made by the Prime Minister, Foreign minister Julie Bishop, and what appeared to be a bipartisan endeavour with the ALP to get Chan and Sukumaran off death row.

At least one person associated with this unimaginable stupidity must have seen the folly of their actions, for the footage was taken down from video sharing site Vimeo late today.

But someone had the foresight to upload a copy of it to YouTube first — where it has been viewed by tens of thousands of people in less than a day, and attracted about 80% disapproval from those who are registered on YouTube and who passed judgement on it.

Here’s the video; I urge everyone to watch it. It is blood-boiling, sanity-challenging, fact-defying cretinism.

“Fight for our citizens?” It is because Abbott, Bishop, and everyone else in the parliamentary claque have so exhaustively done exactly so that I have been critical of the time, effort, resources, money and diplomatic capital that has been devoted to the interests of two drug peddlers to the detriment of the wider Australian community.

“It’s time to fight for our boys, Mr Abbott,” one participant declares, apparently oblivious to the fact Abbott has done exactly that too.

One aspect of the attack suggests that if Abbott had “courage or compassion” he would “get over to Indonesia and bring these two boys home.” How? Walking onto foreign soil and arbitrarily abducting prisoners held under the law of that sovereign foreign country is an act of war, no less: assuming, that is, whomever undertook the abduction actually made it in and out again without being shot themselves, a defensive course of action the Indonesians would be perfectly entitled to take.

Perhaps the actors and their gaggle of parrots would like Abbott to declare war on Indonesia to “show courage.” What a brilliant thought…

“Grow some balls,” is not the sort of advice an ignoramus in international law ought to be dispensing to the Prime Minister, but it’s all here.

I’m not going to pick the whole thing apart, line by odious line — people can watch, after all — but about the only constructive suggestion this arrogantly bombastic effort makes is that Abbott physically go to Indonesia: and I would counter that given its President, Joko Widodo, has stoutly refused to even speak to the Prime Minister by telephone, showing up in person and demanding an audience is likely to see him left standing on the steps of the presidential palace, humiliated before a hungry international press pack, and achieving nothing.

Then again, seeing Abbott humiliated in such a fashion — despite the unbelievable lengths to which his government has gone to try to have the condemned duo’s sentences commuted — is probably high on the wish list of the bunch who made this film.

And in any case it is, now, too late — and, conveniently, it was already too late by the time this thing went live, too.

But whoever the idiot in the video was that suggested Abbott somehow confer diplomatic immunity on a couple of hardened, recidivist, big-league international drug traffickers as a way of secreting them out of Indonesia, I can only shake my head. Ignorant doesn’t begin to describe it. Dangerous either, for that matter. These people purport to be intelligent individuals. But their effort with a camera and editing software, in this case, suggests the complete opposite to be the case.

I have said enough about Chan and Sukumaran; whether you agree with their fate or desperately dispute the suitability of their sentences, or support the death penalty or its abolition, and whether vengeance or compassion or punishment or forgiveness is your watchword, the time for an outcome that does not feature their execution by gunshot appears to be at its end.

But every person who participated in that video — from Rush and Brown down — ought to be ashamed of themselves.

Very few commentators — whether for or against the death penalty — have sought to politicise this matter in a partisan fashion; I have been careful, too, not to present this in Liberal vs Labor terms, for it is nothing of the sort.

It is true that I think efforts to persuade unreceptive Indonesian officials to alter the death penalty have gone on for too long and, indeed, have gone too far; it was obvious, months ago, that Indonesia had determined to be resolutely impenetrable where pleas for Chan and Sukumaran were concerned, and so it has proven.

If anything, Australia — its government, its opposition, community leaders and individual citizens — have gone too far simply on account of the grotesquely slavering and fawningly sycophantic flavour these efforts have taken on in recent weeks: and this, far from persuading Indonesia, has probably only galvanised its opposition to any form of clemency and hardened its resolve to give no quarter in making public examples of the pair as part of its crackdown on (and execution of) drug smugglers apprehended on its soil.

In fact, I have to wonder whether the announcement this morning that Chan and Sukumaran would be denied their choice of religious counsellors to witness their execution is somehow a response to such a notion; certainly, this was a brazen and wanton act of cruelty that I find horrific. I might be in favour of capital punishment, but that particular decision by the Indonesians today was brutal, heartless, and unnecessarily inflammatory, given the passions and competing interests that are at stake.

Those who made that video have sought to lie, mislead, and deceive; no sane or rational person could do anything other than laud Abbott and his government for their efforts, and it is telling that for perhaps the only time in years, Shorten-led Labor and its MPs have not merely supported the government, but commendably walked in lockstep with it.

But one bunch of grubs on the Left — unable to control themselves on the endless, senseless quest to destroy Tony Abbott without principle, without proof, and using literally any pretext to do so without compunction — nonetheless has taken it upon themselves to sink the boot into the Prime Minister publicly, at a time they must have known was far too late for anything further to be done, and in a way that will merely compound Australia’s humiliation in Indonesian eyes on account of the excessive effort that was invested in the quest to get Chan and Sukumaran off death row in the first place.

The real offence in what they have done is to those who have been adversely touched by the drug trade in some way, for their filthy little hick flick won’t damage the Prime Minister.

And so — whether you think Chan and Sukumaran should be executed or not — this is just one final insult contrived in their names.

There might be no winners from their deaths, but these grubs have ensured the episode will remain that much more painful — and divisive — than it had to be, and for much longer than it should be, once the sounds of gunshot are replaced by deafening silence in a few hours’ time.