My fellow Australians, it gives me no pleasure to be saying the things that I am saying at this time. It tugs my heartstrings. It eats me up inside. But I can no longer remain silent in the face of the outrages being visited upon us by the enemies of freedom and humanity.
There comes a time in every man’s life when he must stand up for what he believes in. There comes a time when every man must say enough is enough, and not enough is not enough, and I say to you now, my fellow Australians, I’ve had enough lies and tyranny, and I’ve had not enough democracy and telling-the-truthness.
Yesterday I watched as the Prime Minister of this country placed a tender kiss upon the other prime minister of this country, and I very nearly retched at the hypocrisy.
When Jason Donovan brought his words to the people — "Yes it’s going to be a cold, lonely summer/But I’ll fill the emptiness/I’ll send you all my dreams everyday in a letter/Sealed with a kiss" — could he ever have imagined his simple message of hope and decency would end up representing something so perverted and oppressive? Could he have imagined that this day, a kiss would not seal our dreams, but shatter them; that a kiss would sound the death knell for our way of life and send us hurtling toward a Third World future where the best we can hope for is that we will be able to smuggle our children to Texas so that they may get jobs at hardware stores and perhaps aspire to a better life. For us it is too late. The best we have to look forward to is a slow and painful botched suicide attempt.
Until now I had hoped we still might avoid this fate. I had hoped the Government would see sense. I had hoped that perhaps Julia Gillard would wake up the morning of the vote and decide she’d rather be a decent person who didn’t hate her own country. I thought we might get a white knight, someone who would ride up at the last possible moment, in the manner of Captain Francis de Groot, and force Greg Combet at gunpoint to read one of the many thousands of articles by Andrew Bolt proving beyond doubt that global warming is a hoax and Tim Flannery a hairy-backed half-goblin bandit.
I held out a mad, romantic fantasy that, just in the nick of time, truth would defeat lies, democracy would defeat totalitarianism, and honest hard-working battlers would defeat lazy child-porn-loving elites. It was a futile hope, of course. These days evil holds sway in our once-great country, and anyone who believes in happy endings is a damn fool.
And so now we have a carbon tax. That’s right, the woman who promised to never, ever, over her dead body cross her heart and hope to die nevereverever introduce a carbon tax has gone right ahead and introduced a carbon tax. Her sly Machiavellian plan has almost come to fruition. Stage 1: Lie to the Australian people while snidely giggling on the inside. Stage 2: Reveal that you are a liar. Stage 3: Become incredibly unpopular. Stage 4: Kill everyone.
Let’s look at just what got passed yesterday. It is a "carbon pricing mechanism". This means that for every ton of carbon emitted by big business (the people who BUILT THIS COUNTRY), the company must pay $5 into Julia Gillard’s Sovereign Stalinist Anthrax Stockpile Fund.
After three years, the fixed price transitions to a bona fide emissions trading scheme, which means the Greens have won and the coal industry will be shut down entirely and all coal workers forced to become gay prostitutes. Will you be so smug then, you bleeding-heart vegan saps, as you toil in the fields under the harsh lash of Tsar Brown and his anarcho-Menshevik death squads? Will you keep on bleating your airy-fairy namby-pamby homo-erotic psychobabble about "investing in the future" when you’re carrying your engineless Flintstones car to work and cooking your potato wedges with a candle while Sarah Hanson-Young creeps into your bedroom at night to insert refugees under your bed and sacrifice your babies to the UN?
I ask you to imagine the Australia that will be ushered in by this tax, citizens. An Australia with no mines. An Australia with no steel industry. An Australia with no cars. An Australia with no economy. An Australia with no FREEDOM.
Prepare to lose your jobs, my fellow Australians. Prepare to see your hometown die. Prepare to learn to speak Chinese.
Fellow Australians, it is time to act. We did not start this war, but we’re damn sure going to fix it. If the government wants to kill democracy, so be it. The time for talk is over. The time for peaceful protest is over. The time for correct spelling and punctuation is over. It is time for all good-hearted Australians from all walks of life — the elderly, the pensioners, the retirees, the grey nomads, the aged, the seniors, all of them — to band together and fall in behind the one man who is willing to stand up for the values of ordinary Australians and miners and rescue this country from annihilation.
Yes, we need to follow Tony Abbott to war. He’s already shown his commitment, slashing open his veins and scrawling "I WILL REPEAL THIS TAX SWEAR TO GOD" across a nearby bathroom wall.
I call on you, my fellow Australians, to take out your Stanley knives and likewise draw your own blood, so you may mingle it with Abbott’s, with Bishop’s, with Hockey’s, and with all your freedom-loving compadres. Let us swear our blood oath together: that we will march as one upon this corrupt, dishonest, grasping, money-wasting, tradie-burning farce of a government, and that we will not rest until the streets run red with Labor blood and Rob Oakeshott’s head sits on a pike outside the walls of Canberra as a warning to any other barbarians who might be thinking about trying to subvert our western liberal ideals with creeping market-based Sharia.
Yes, we have reached that point in history where the answer is violence. Rise up, fellow Australians! Fight this evil! Overthrow this repellent pseudo-rapist of a government! For if a patriot will not arm himself and cry havoc when threatened with a moderate rise in electricity prices, just what is it going to take?
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