A DAY WHICH WILL LIVE IN INFAMY

A DAY WHICH WILL LIVE IN INFAMY

The films of Paul Greengrass, of which the writers of this blog are longtime fans, are always compelling, often confronting and his latest, 22 July, is no exception.

Recently released on Netflix and in selected theatres 22 July is centred upon the crimes of Norwegian Anders Behring Breivik, who in 2011 carried out twin terrorist attacks, a bombing in the central Oslo area and a shooting attack on the island of Utøya, which claimed the lives of 77 people and left over 300 injured.

Greengrass has woven together the stories of four people involved in the outrage; the terrorist Breivik, one of his young victims named Viljar Hanssen who was left partially blinded and severely maimed by gunfire, Breivik’s defence lawyer Geir Lippestadt and then Norwegian prime minister Jens Stoltenberg.

The opening scenes detailing the bombing of the Norwegian prime minister’s offices and the shooting attack on defenceless young people at the Utøya youth camp are hard on the viewer; if Greengrass does one thing well it is his masterful direction of the action scenes and the depiction of the visceral horror of being caught up in acts of extreme violence.

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The aftermath of the Oslo bombing

As in his other films, notably Bloody Sunday and United 93, the viewer’s familiarity with the subject matter only enhances the almost unbearable tension felt as the victims and their assailants, in this case a “Lone Wolf”, move toward their awful shared destiny.

The performances across the board are solid, the actors acquit themselves well enough as horrified victims or helpless bystanders and the revulsion felt toward Breivik by all who cross his path is central to the plot; by the standards of all decent people this terrorist deserved nothing but a quick lynching, yet the film goes into some detail concerning his interrogation and the struggle by the authorities to conduct a fair trial.

As in his other films, notably Bloody Sunday and United 93, the viewer’s familiarity with the subject matter only enhances the almost unbearable tension felt as the victims and their assailants, in this case a “Lone Wolf”, move toward their awful shared destiny.

The moral of the story would be that outsiders, social outcasts if you will, have no right to impose their will upon the many through violent means, even if, on the surface, their cause is righteous.

On this point a serious discussion was had among Nationalists the world over in the weeks following Breivik’s outrage, the enormity of what he had done laid bare the gulf between genuine political activists and the big talking, would-be cyber revolutionaries; this important point is mentioned in 22 July, but it bears further scrutiny with the benefits of hindsight.

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The real Viljar Hanssen, survivor of the Utøya massacre.

Upon hearing of the twin attacks everyone on our side hit the internet to find out who this Anders Behring Breivik was, the feeling of “not again”, the idea that one of our extended Nationalist family had acted rashly and run off the rails, as happens from time to time, was on all our minds.

This was not the case, as the picture became clearer and Breivik’s online manifesto was absorbed by our veteran campaigners and intellectuals it quickly became obvious to us that Breivik was not a political soldier striking out from a trans-European underground, but just another sad loser lost in a fantasy world of his own creation.

Since 2011 there has emerged a good deal of useful analysis of Breivik, his crimes and state of mind; while not conclusive the 2016 paper by University Of Salford academics Lino Faccini and Clare Allely is helpful in putting Anders Breivik in his proper place among the rogues gallery of 21st century mass killers.

This was not the case, as the picture became clearer and Breivik’s online manifesto was absorbed by our veteran campaigners and intellectuals it quickly became obvious to us that Breivik was not a political soldier striking out from a trans-European underground, but just another sad loser lost in a fantasy world of his own creation.

Anders Behring Breivik was no political activist, every attempt he had made to be part of an authentic movement had failed; nor was he part of an underground sect, a youth gang, a fraternal order or a wider online community of fellow travellers; he was, in reality, an isolated, ineffectual individual seemingly beset by pathological narcissism and lifelong insecurities.

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Anders Danielsen Lie turns in a capable performance as Breivik in 22July

Breivik has very little in common with modern, ideologically motivated terrorists, however, he sits alongside some of the worst offenders, the school shooters such as Adam Lanza, Nicholas Cruz and the Harris-Klebold dyad who started it all at Columbine in 1999.

Breivik’s narcissistic rage and psychological decomposition in the face of his failure to launch into normal adult life were the real motivations behind his actions; in this regard Greengrass and his writers fail the viewer, they depict him as having being abandoned by his equally nefarious online comrades, this was never the case, everyone on the so-called “far right” was just as taken aback by the events of 22 July as was the rest of the world.

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Some of Breivik’s home-made costumes for his fantasy personae, far from being a latter day crusader, it was all in his head

THE FIGHTING SEASON: THOUGHTS ON THE MILITARISATION OF PUBLIC SPACES FROM KABUL TO MELBOURNE

THE FIGHTING SEASON: THOUGHTS ON THE MILITARISATION OF PUBLIC SPACES FROM KABUL TO MELBOURNE

The twilight zone between the end of the festive season and the resumption of the work year is, of late, a good opportunity to make the most of our Netflix and Stan subscriptions and in amongst the growing clutter of Bollywood movies and incomprehensible Taiwanese rom-coms we were able to find a few gems with which to pass the time.

A recent addition to the lineup was Ricky Schroder’s six part documentary series The Fighting Season, which follows several units of U.S Army military advisors and their Afghan allies as they develop security arrangements in Kabul during an election campaign, hunt Taliban fighters in the countryside and attempt to kill or capture an elusive insurgent commander.

To be frank, Schroder is a propagandist of the Obama era military effort in Afghanistan and the phased draw-down of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF); in general his film leans toward supporting the narrative of the Afghan National Army (ANA) and police finding their feet and slowly taking responsibility for their own security.

The Fighting Season, however, is very revealing in its depiction of modern, highly specialised combat troops re-tasked as, basically, police units and tactical response teams on overwatch, ready to leap into action should the Afghan forces get in over their heads.

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Ricky Schroder, the former 1970’s child star is now an effective propagandist for the U.S war machine

In that sense this is a curious story, it has little in common with other War On Terror films, such as Sebastian Junger’s excellent Restrepo, or the dismal spectacle of the Ben Anderson documentary This Is What Winning Looks Like; the U.S paratroopers and 10th Mountain Division soldiers as depicted by Schroder exude a barely repressed bitterness and frustration even as they repeat the talking points of the official narrative.

From the slightly loopy security commander swanning around the teeming streets of Kabul as if he is going out for ice cream in his Midwestern hometown, seemingly oblivious to the threat of suicide bombers and kidnappers; to the hardened African American forward air controller calling in bombing runs on Taliban snipers these characters all ooze a superficial confidence and self control, but it is clear that they hate what they are doing and are deeply skeptical of the mission.

To be frank, Schroder is a propagandist of the Obama era military effort in Afghanistan and the phased draw-down of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF); in general his film leans toward supporting the narrative of the Afghan National Army (ANA) and police finding their feet and slowly taking responsibility for their own security.

Part of the dramatic tension which sets the pace across The Fighting Season’s six episodes is the sense that the Americans cannot trust the Afghan civilians, or rely upon the ANA and National Police to do their jobs; these are not, however, the drug addicts, child molesters and congenital idiots shown by Vice and Ben Anderson in 2013; on the contrary the Afghan soldiers are a mixed bag, ranging from merely competent, to tactically astute and, in some cases, almost suicidally brave.

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Sebastian Junger and Tim Hetherington produced an excellent film ,Restrepo, which captured life on a remote American firebase in the wilds of Afghanistan

Whether this is a completely accurate portrayal of the real ANA is another matter, we suspect the reality lies somewhere between Anderson’s pessimism and Schroders optimism; what is interesting from the point of our social commentary is this idea of a semi-competent but poorly equipped security force moving among the general population and maintaining a physical presence on the ground; guarded all the while by a high-tech, highly effective surveillance and intelligence group and backed up by heavily armed tactical units whose only task is to respond to emergencies.

It is this three-tiered security system used by foreign occupation forces in counter-insurgency operations, on behalf of their client regimes, which caught the eye of our writers; despite differences in the tempo of operations and the nature of the threats to civilians there is much in The Fighting Season which will feel familiar to the viewers, tucked up safe in their homes in the suburbs.

To the keen observer, there are distinct parallels between the militarization of public space in Afghanistan and the hardening of security precautions, recent restructure of police forces and the massive ramping up of state surveillance in Australian societies.

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Colonel John Graham , on the right, confers with his long-suffering bodyguard; the colonel is a weird sort of fellow but his story is very interesting

One of the most striking scenes in Schroder’s series shows American advisors driving around Kabul performing spot checks on Afghan police vehicle control points; the commander of the inspection team, Colonel Graham who is, as we mentioned, somewhat of a weird, reckless character spends some minutes in effusive praise of the officers who man these roadblocks, search cars and try to detect Jihadist suicide bombers as they enter the city.

To the keen observer there are distinct parallels between the militarisation of public space in Afghanistan and the hardening of security precautions, recent restructure of police forces and the massive ramping up of state surveillance in Australian societies.

What Graham is saying, if we read between the lines, is that the ANP officers, the lowest tier of the security operation, are basically expendable; it is expected that if a suicide bomber or insurgent gunman is detected that there will be police casualties and that they are only expected to hold their own until the American rapid response teams and Afghan special forces can be scrambled, with their armoured vehicles, superior training and heavy weapons.

Put that into the context of Melbourne or Sydney, sure the threat is lower here and we do not have terrorist attacks every few weeks as they do in Kabul but broadly the same tactical, counterinsurgency regime is being applied in our cities; first responders, usually general duties police, will generally be running blindly into danger during an attack and even in bucolic Melbourne it is understood that they make take casualties before the better-equipped squads are deployed.

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An Afghan policeman smokes a spliff while on patrol in a scene from the confronting 2013 Vice documentary This Is What Winning Looks Like

Colonel Graham proudly shows off his “Ring Of Steel” around Kabul, the picket of concrete bollards, chicanes and fighting positions which has been built across Kabul to, if nothing else, impede insurgent attacks until a counter attack can be mounted; the topic of insurgent attacks is discussed as a certainty and the one gets the sense that the lowest tier officers and fortifications are in place to absorb most of the impact, that crime cannot be prevented, only a reactive use of force is available to mop up after any initial strike on the barricades.

In our cities similar measures are now in place: in keeping with the threat levels we have concrete bollards and discrete hardening of urban infrastructure, soft checkpoints such as booze buses and Protective Service officers at railway stations and the network of private security guards, authorised officers and municipal inspectors who provide eyes on capability across the community.

The Fighting Season’s other plot-lines provide not only the most exciting battlefield action sequences but show the middle path of pro-active counter-insurgent operations; the tactics of the famed U.S 10th Mountain Division and their ANA allies sit between the nearly passive defences of the “Ring Of Steel” and the reactive elements of the ISAF Quick Reaction Force made up of paratroopers and commandos.

The young American soldiers clearly hate the Afghan locals and gleefully take on the task of “getting in the face” of suspected Taliban insurgents; it is here we can see a contrast between this middle tier of counter terrorism operations in a combat zone and the pro-active policing efforts in the suburbs of Australian cities.

The young American soldiers clearly hate the Afghan locals and gleefully take on the task of “getting in the face” of suspected Taliban insurgents; it is here we can draw a comparison between this middle tier of counter-terrorism operations in a combat zone and the pro-active policing efforts in the suburbs of Australian cities.

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Forward Air Controller Sergeant Letnam, his hatred of the Afghans is apparent after he calls in an airstrike on a Taliban sniper nest and the insurgents walk away from the bombed-out position grinning and denying that they are fighters.

The point of the 10th Mountain troops operation was to disrupt, disturb and confront the Taliban and other outlaws, to break their routines, rattle their nerves and if possible kill or capture the fighters and drug smugglers; they patrolled in known Taliban strongholds, rousted their supporters in the villages, confiscated any goods or weapons suspected of belonging to fighters and attempted, by show of force, to diminish the Islamists standing in the community.

Australian police will claim that they are also pro-active when it comes to fighting our own low-level Islamic insurgency and gang crime, however it is this middle tier which, to many, has been the weak link in the local response, this is the cohort which has, in the minds of many workers been hobbled by political correctness and the point of the spear, so to speak, blunted by interference from government and social justice warriors.

It is generally accepted now that the day-to-day attempts by Australian police to play the “hearts and minds” routine in high crime suburbs, particularly those with high Third World migrant populations, have been a failure; what is more, by showing weakness they have actually made the problems worse.

What the people are becoming really agitated about is the weak effort at disrupting criminals and terrorists before they become a real problem, that not enough is being done to shut down radical Islamist recruiters and other fringe dwellers; there is also general outrage over the lack of in-patient services for the dangerously mentally ill or drug addicted and the apparent hands-off approach being taken toward ethnocentric criminal gangs.

It is significant that Aussie workers have quickly cottoned on to the fact that the fortification of public spaces and expansion of heavily armed flying squads are a necessary and proportionate reaction to the current threat environment; nobody seems particularly bothered by the sight of semi-trailers being used as shields against vehicle attacks outside the Cricket, or the unmarked vans cruising the streets loaded with specialist police armed with assault rifles.

What the people are becoming really agitated about is the weak effort at disrupting criminals and terrorists before they become a real problem, that not enough is being done to shut down radical Islamist recruiters and other fringe dwellers; there is also general outrage over the lack of in-patient services for the dangerously mentally ill or drug addicted and the apparent hands-off approach being taken toward ethnocentric criminal gangs.

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Tactical squads only arrive as an emergency unfolds, they are a reactive force, not pro-active.

In the general discussion of the militarization of police in Australia and the wider Anglosphere the tendency is, especially among the more libertarian or SJW cliques, to criticise the obvious trappings of the heightened security posture; the self-styled “cop watchers” seem to think that a citywide crackdown on civil liberties is underway merely because the security services have been on a spending spree, purchasing new carbines, armoured vehicles and surveillance gear.

As we have shown it is the tactical posture and the way policing is being conducted in our cities which is evidence of the move toward a counterinsurgency model rather than the traditional, low-key methods of the past; the real problem then becomes the synchronisation of the three tiers of security response: the bullet sponge beat cops, security guards and the fortifications; the pro-active, day-to-day, operations to disrupt, eliminate or humiliate Jihadis and criminal gangs and the rapid reaction forces who only appear once the threat is fully realised

Older Aussies may pine for the society we had and the bright future it promised, but which was squandered by the globalists; unfortunately there is the way things ought to be and the way things are; if Melbourne and Sydney are starting to resemble Kabul then half measures, a compassionate approach and political correctness have no place in the system.

If we are to accept this new security regime, which it is clear we must, at least in the short term purely as a matter of self-preservation then we expect the middle tier of state counter-terrorism operators and ASIO goons to emulate the 10th Mountain division in proportion to the scale of the threat.

If the cops are not kicking in the doors of rogue Imams, leaning hard on self-styled immigrant “community leaders” and making the lives of slacker Jihadis and ethnocentric street gangs utterly miserable then front line cops will have their blood spilled over those concrete bollards before the rapid reaction force can arrive, their bravery and that of the citizens who rush forward into danger will all count for nothing.

We, the workers of Australia, know what has to be done and we know why these very real but wholly imported threats to our lives have been allowed to fester all these years; we know that terrorism and ethnic gang crime is a direct result of globalist-capitalism, the vanity and cynicism of upper-class Whites and the creed of totalitarian humanism.

Older Aussies may pine for the society we had and the bright future it promised, but which was squandered by the globalists; unfortunately there is the way things ought to be and the way things are; if Melbourne and Sydney are starting to resemble Kabul then half measures, a compassionate approach and political correctness have no place in the system.

If we are to suffer under an insurgency where terrorism and gross crimes of violence are simply to be accepted as part of the “enriching” multicultural tapestry, then the security forces need to get serious; they should at least get the three tiers of policing working effectively, in the manner of ISAF and the SJW’s, politicians and do-gooders need to be kicked to the curb and no longer heard.

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Afghan National Police: Expendable personnel deployed in the “Ring Of Steel” to absorb attacks, rather than repel them

ROMPER STOMPER (2017) IS PURE HOLLYWOOD

ROMPER STOMPER (2017) IS PURE HOLLYWOOD

Those tuning into Stan’s sequel to the 1992 Australian film Romper Stomper expecting gritty realism will instead see a crime thriller.

Any pretence at social commentary is a cynical ploy by its creators to rope the general public into viewing a six-part action drama. The sequel is based ever so loosely, not just on its namesake, but on the reality it purports to represent. Whereas the original did offer social realism the update is just a shameless grab for ratings.

Trading off the controversy of the confrontations which occurred between so-called Patriots and Antifascist Action on the streets of Melbourne between 2015-16 Romper Stomper (2017) makes no effort to depict its subject earnestly. However, it will most likely be regarded as a documentary by globalist commentators despite the patently ‘high concept’ veneer of the production. Tim Soup will doubtless use it as the basis of one of his flat and censorious dissertations.

Rather than the diversity-minus-Islam of the Civic Patriots like United Patriots Front, who marched with Asians and shook hands with Africans at their rallies, the Patriot Blue of this latest incarnation are White Nationalists. This simple detail alone propels it way outside of the gravitational pull of authenticity (remember how Ralph Cerminara et al went out of their way to drive off ‘the Nazis’ from their street theatre?).

The unreality of the series is evident from the opening sequence where Patriot Blue has crashed the entrance to a Halal Festival with a pig on a spit. After Blake, the group’s leader (Lachy Hulme) — who bears a conspicuous resemblance to the UPF’s Blair Cottrell — harangues the festival goers a contingent of black-bloc Antifasc (based on Antifascist Action, or Antifa) arrives tooled-up to ambush the Patriots.

Any pretence at social commentary is a cynical ploy by its creators to rope the general public into viewing a six-part action drama.

In the ensuing brouhaha weaklings with the combined strength of a stuffed toy overpower hardened Patriots. This is, putting it mildly, highly unlikely. Antifa mostly attacked stragglers and old women carrying flags in groups of five and six. Moreover, there was seldom any rally where the police presence did not outnumber those protesters and counter-protesters. The pigs almost immediately nixed any unruliness.

Two of the key protagonists are introduced, Stix (Kad Hartcher) and Kane (Toby Wallace). The latter, it is revealed, is Hando’s son. Later, we discover he isn’t. But at this time the two are welcomed as heroes as they salvage Patriot Blue from the awful ambush by what appear to be emo kids amped on energy drinks.

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The Blair character is not-so-Blair as you think. But he does occasionally blare unlikely WN maxims through a loud hailer

A bloodied Blake invites the pair back to his place for a drink. While there, Blake wails on a henchman for revealing the rally’s location. We learned that Kane and Stix have left the army and are looking for work. Blake and his wife Zoe (Sophie Lowe), who seems an unlikely companion at half his age and hot to boot run a ‘recycling’ business, which must be fruitful since he shares a $15k bottle of Scotch with the pair. Blake offers them work.

The cops turn up to arrest Blake for “obstruction” leaving Kane and Stix alone with the pretty missus. Kane immediately makes a move and right here is one of the signature dramatic problems with the show: apart from the schlocky acting, the story’s timing is inappropriate. As if you would be sipping the leader’s top plonk while fondling his woman’s hair all in the space of an hour of entering his home.

The original Romper Stomper had plausible graduations of sequences but so much is stuffed into the unfolding plot that its pace comes to resemble any contemporary action movie involving Mark Wahlberg.

Rather than the diversity-minus-Islam of the Civic Patriots like United Patriots Front, who marched with Asians and shook hands with Africans at their rallies, the Patriot Blue of this latest incarnation are White Nationalists.

The writers disingenuously try to squeeze social relevance out of the characters while accentuating the politically correct constituents of the story. For instance, back at the Halal Festival, a young Moslem girl is supposedly bashed by Patriots. In the entirety of every rally held there was probably about 20 Moslems who showed up but that would not be sexy for the kind of audience Stan is looking for.

So we have a gratuitous act of cowardly violence against a Moslem girl that would never have happened no matter how high spirits ran at a rally. The producers overlooked how self-conscious about public approval the United Patriots Front were, which was acute to the point of cucking them into non-existence. But this was never about the Patriot Movement. And the ‘victimhood’ narrative of Moslems is now well underway.

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Jago (C) and Blake (R) stick it to ‘forthright educated Moslem’ Laila (L)

Interviewed by a news crew in the aftermath of the attack on her sister, Laila (Nicole Chamoun), an “educated forthright Arab”, becomes a hero of the Antifasc. She also falls into the sights of Jago (David Wenham), the homosexual right-wing TV commentator loosely styled on Alan Jones, who has his eye on Kane. He and his Asian assistant (yes, there is more than one ironic device employed in the sequel) hoodwink her into coming on his show. Shocked to find Blake is also a guest, she reels as the pair demolish her on-air.

Meanwhile, Antifasc is reviewing video footage of the rally to identify the unknowns. This is an accurate portion of the show because as we know the craven polyps of the real Antifa occupy themselves in exactly this fashion. Here too is another disturbing accuracy. We encounter the mysterious McKew (Syd Zyglier).

McKew is the anonymous source behind The Slacker’s Guide to Fascists which is a blatant reference to Slackbastard. We even find out that ‘the Slacker’ is a university professor which confirms our contention professor Rob Sparrow of Monash University is one of the originators of Slackbastard. This also raises questions about how au fait with Slackbastard the media truly is as this is by no means a coincidence. The only other conclusion to draw would be that the writers of the show sourced their material from us.

The original Romper Stomper had logical graduations of sequences but here so much is stuffed into the unfolding plot that its pace resembles any contemporary action movie involving Mark Wahlberg.

As the show unfolds, the Slacker turns out to be an arsehole, which is the only time the show touches on fact.

The Slacker, as with the true life Slackbastard, manipulates the Antifasc to do his bidding. Thus the heroic and idealistic Laila is drawn into the world of Antifasc which will ultimately spell her doom. Here too we encounter Petra (Lily Sullivan), one of the show’s female powerhouse trio, and a senior Antifasc figure. The third ‘forthright female’ is the oddest one of all to explain in terms of the storyline.

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Zoe, Blake’s Missus, is seldom without a glass of vino

Kane has a little foster sister named Cindi who breaks out of a girl’s home after a visit from her surrogate brother. Cindi is cunningly installed with Antifasc whom she encounters while on the lam and hungry. Heading to a soup kitchen she meets up with two of the Antifasc barnacles and thence returns on Kane’s instruction to join the fold without much vetting.

This is another dodgy bit of plot since supposedly on the run from authorities it is remarkable that no effort is made to apprehend her nor is she recognised by any member of the public. She also seems to achieve the impossible, getting by without any scratch to cover her living costs. Antifasc must be better funded than we’d imagined.

It is between Kane, Zoe, Jago and two reprises from the original movie, Cackles (Dan Whyllie) and Magoo (John Brumpton), that the story heads to its propagandistic conclusion. However, along the way are other characters, some of which play integral roles, others serve to underscore the message Australians are fundamentally racist.

As the show unfolds, the Slacker turns out to be an arsehole, which is the only time the show touches on fact.

We meet an Arab Mixed Martial Arts fighter named Malik (Jamie Abdallah) who is disgusted with Laila’s brother Farid (Julian Maroun) for being beaten by the Patriots. While out with his Arab mates, he belts a truck driver defending the honour of his female partner who’s being crudely ogled by one of his passengers. Defending himself, Malik’s skills come to the fore. He drops the driver who cracks his head and nearly dies. The thoughtful Moslem seeks solace in prayer. The viewer is left to regard the Aussie as a victim of his own racism and hubris. The wisdom is only to be had in the mosque listening to the Imam with whom Malik confers.

Then there is the moral ambiguity of the Africans who are sent packing from a late-night convenience store by Kane’s Patriot Blue Night Patrol. The two gangster-rap gun-toting blacks tell the ‘White boys’ “These are our streets”. Chased off, they afterwards end up kidnapping Noddy (Sam Parsonson) and torturing him before dumping him at Blake’s place. While Noddy is bound and gagged the writers allow the APEX ringleader to lecture him with a parable of a “lost little sheep”. In actuality the black is the voice of globalism and Noddy, the lost sheep, represents any Australian who would vainly stand up to him. There is no resolution for this sadistic act (events intervene) that is well-deserving of Patriot retribution. Hate begets hate appears to be the lesson. What’s more, the Night Patrol itself requires comment since we have heard much about Patriot groups proposing such action, but nothing we see has ever been reported, such as Moslems being bashed, and an Ice lab turned over. It is all a big ‘what if’.

Into the mix comes a detective named Marco (Jeremy Lindsay Taylor), who happens to be “handling” Blake. This is an interesting theme seeing as how we have Neil Erikson who just about everybody knows is, or was prior to his recent charges, most definitely being handled. We know too that UPF members had been approached by ASIO. But apart from operating the Patriot Blue leader, Marco is also cheating on his missus by rooting Kane’s estranged millionaire mum, Gabe (Jacqueline McKenzie); another character from the original movie who basically does nothing. Well, she does do something, at the very end she tells Kane that Hando is not his father but rather his grandfather, her father, Martin — who regularly abused her and is seen in the show dying of dementia — sired the prodigal Patriot. Not that we told you that, readers. To do so would be a spoiler, which would require an alert.

We won’t spoil things either by  letting slip that Kane ends up killing Blake when the Patriots visit Magoo’s country hideaway which is a veritable armoury of WW2 weapons and Nazi paraphernalia. Blake is both jealous and suss of his young protege and puts him through a test warning him to stay away from Zoe. He gets about two minutes of gloat time when he passes before a seemingly pacified Kane pushes him down an escarpment. But revealing such would only ruin things for when he shacks up with Blake’s Jesus freak missus (Blake could not get it up due to the ‘roids’) who sees Kane as a Christlike figure come to save Australia. Nor will we reveal how the wily Cackles, who owns a white goods business (get it), had all along recruited Kane and Stix to take over Patriot Blue and usurp Blake. And there is no way in hell we’ll tell you about the inspiring scene where the Patriots annihilate Antifasc on a Melbourne beach while they hold a solemn ceremony with Blake’s ashes.

Furthermore, while not spilling  spoilers such as the above we shan’t mention the bullshit ironic device number two which has Magoo meeting with his Asian daughter, who he is ripped apart at not being able to be with. Now that would truly have been a righteous portrayal of a Civic Patriot.

Our lips are also sealed as to how the whole thing ends with Magoo talking his way into an event with a pro-multiculturalism politician and blowing up the two Antifasc, Kane’s sister, and countless others with a bomb jacket created by Cackles, the real power behind it all. No, because, that would be a prick act and our name isn’t Slackbastard. But we will say this, the whole thing is just tawdry entertainment created with the knowledge it will be blindly accepted as cutting-edge real-life drama. The globalist instruction is pungent and the audacity strong: to depict an Aussie as a terrorist bomber while the Moslems are the level-headed copers.

As Nationalists, we must condemn the series on about a thousand levels, but one really stuck in our craw and that is the depiction of these rock ape Patriots as White Nationalists. Back in 2015, we suffered badly trying to help the Patriots. They were thankless, they took what they wanted, and they threw us under a bus. We have never forgotten and those now claiming to be pruned from the same Nationalist branch as ours have never apologised for it either.

It is irksome to hear Blake spouting WN maxims, and reciting Henry Lawson. Lawson is a Nationalist hero and we’re pretty sure 99.9% of those original Patriots have never heard of him. They would be much more likely to quote Milo Yiannopoulos.

What is really sick though is the creation in the public’s mind that terrorism is where Nationalist politics is inevitably destined to end up. The Antifasc in the show is treated more sympathetically with their destructive acts simply shown to be well-meaning blunders. We have had those pass through our movement who have attempted to draw Australians into criminal acts, such as Squadron 88’s New Zealander leader. But this is not how we roll. To be depicted in this light shows either very poor research or very conscious design and we feel it’s the latter. Additionally, Facebook Patriots should receive royalties since the show is mostly written from their online interactions.

Like John Safran, it seems everyone made money out of the Patriot Movement except those who were in it (with the exception of notable scam artists who know who they are). This is just another cash-in on something which has been and passed. Moreover, if you pay to see it, you are giving Fairfax money, as they happen to own Stan. They are also behind all the defamatory attacks upon our people.

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Hmm, the media knows all about Slackbastard. And judging by the portrayal of his character they know he’s a bitch

 

THE MAN WITH THE IRON HEART AND NO PERSONALITY

THE MAN WITH THE IRON HEART AND NO PERSONALITY

The new film from French director Cédric Jiminez (The Connection, Aux Yeux De Tous) represents nothing but a series of opportunities to tell an interesting story which has been squandered through equivocation in narrative and a lack of detail in its script.

The Man With The Iron Heart, abbreviated to HHhH, has so many problems it is hard to know where to start; it is poorly edited, the nominally stellar cast is restrained by hamfisted writing and poor character development and it is difficult to discern what point, if any, the writer-director is trying to make.

The story centres on the 1942 assassination, in Prague, of SS General Reinhard Heydrich. We are given some snapshots of his former life as a Navy officer, his rise through the ranks of the NSDAP, and his ascension to the top echelons of the National Socialist hierarchy.

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Jason Clarke and Rosamund Pike as Reinhard and Lina Heydrich: a strong woman and her unfathomable blob of a husband

This series of badly constructed jump cuts, flashbacks and flashes forward, introduces Jason Clarke as Heydrich, Rosamund Pike as his wife Lina, and the always excellent Stephen Graham as an eerily realistic Heinrich Himmler.

The trouble with this opening sequence, however, is that the writers assume that the viewer already knows who the characters are, the timeline of NSDAP history, and the events which led up to Hitler’s ascension to power in 1933; we are confident that the average moviegoer would have no idea where, say, Ernst Röhm or Heinrich Müller fit into the story

The Man With The Iron Heart, abbreviated to HHhH, has so many problems it is hard to know where to start; it is poorly edited, the nominally stellar cast is restrained by hamfisted writing and poor character development and it is difficult to discern what point, if any, the writer-director is trying to make.

Röhm and Müller appear as pop-up characters for mere seconds of screentime in HHhH, Hitler is absent altogether and highly significant events, such as the “Night Of The Long Knives” are glossed over in a way which might leave the average punter scratching his head in confusion over what he had just watched.

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The Czech resistance also suffers at the hands of director Jiminez

Clarke’s Heydrich comes across as a flat, even passive character; he is sometimes annoyed, sometimes explosively violent but he never has anything really profound or interesting to say.

We would assume that the writers were aiming for a steely, near psychopathic aura for the character, but the result is a dull and listless cartoon of a man whose personal motivations and deeper thoughts are never made clear.

Moreover, Jiminez plays it so safe with his “Holocaust” narrative that he almost strays into the area of heresy by the omission of pertinent details of the (((official))) WW2 story.

The repression of Czech resistance, the police actions and mass killings carried out by Heydrich’s SS units are, remarkably, even turned into boring vignettes in HHhH; to anyone familiar with the real story the film goes close to exculpating senior NS officials by effectively cutting them out of the picture.

Clarke’s Heydrich comes across as a flat, even passive character; he is sometimes annoyed, sometimes explosively violent but he never has anything really profound or interesting to say

You see, in opposition to the mainstream, Hollywood inspired story of the Holocaust there is a school of thought which puts forth the idea that the Final Solution was a criminal conspiracy carried out by elements within the SS in pursuit of their own objectives; that the true magnitude of the mass killings and ethnic cleansing was deliberately kept from Hitler and his inner circle.

By omitting Hitler from the film the director has, perhaps unwittingly, veered into forbidden territory. If the viewer is paying attention, he could easily form the impression that Heydrich really was the sole architect of the planned destruction of native Czech culture and the liquidation of ethnic minorities within his area of responsibility.

The second half of the film is utterly forgettable in spite of the introduction of some fine actors into the cast; Mia Wasikowska, Jack Raynor and Jack O’Connell form the nexus of the Czech resistance plotline but that too falls flat and fails to make an impact on the viewer, there is simply not enough meat on the bones of the characters for the script to be effective.

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Jamie Dornan and Cillian Murphy in Anthropoid, fine actors who were clearly given good direction and a first-rate script by Sean Ellis

In contrast to HHhH we recommend the excellent film Anthropoid. The 2016 feature directed by Sean Ellis examines in detail the actual plot to assassinate Heydrich which was led by resistance fighters and British trained Czech special forces soldiers Jan Kubis and Josef Gabcíc.

Jamie Dornan and Cillian Murphy are altogether more convincing as Kubis and Gabcíc, their operation, codenamed Anthropoid, takes place amid a far more fraught atmosphere, a vision of Prague riddled with collaborators, cowardly resistance turncoats and Gestapo spies.

By omitting Hitler from the film the director has, perhaps unwittingly, veered into forbidden territory, if the viewer is paying attention he could easily form the impression that Heydrich really was the sole architect of the planned destruction of native Czech culture and the liquidation of ethnic minorities within his area of responsibility.

The supporting cast, though lacking the big names of HHhH are equally impressive; Charlotte Le Bon and Anna Geislerova acquit themselves well in their roles as resistance sympathisers Marie and Lenka, who sacrifice everything they hold dear to free their country.

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Young love was thought the perfect cover in a city brimming with spies and collaborators

Due to superior writing, it is what is said in Anthropoid, as opposed to what is explicitly shown, but poorly explained in HHhH that drives home to the viewer the horrors inflicted upon the people of Czechoslovakia by the National Socialists.

The impact of the SS reprisals against those who aided Heydrich’s assassins as depicted in the former film is far more dramatic than in the latter simply because by the climax of the film one has begun to sympathise with the characters in Anthropoid, due to their being more well rounded and the actors working from a better-prepared script.

In the end, HHhH is a badly made Holocaust drama which fails to land any of its punches due to the limitations of that genre, even though it does appear, to the trained eye at least, to bend that tiresome narrative to some extent.

Anthropoid, on the other hand, is a film Australian Nationalists may relate to, being as it is a depiction of where true patriots can be taken in their fight for a free country; it shows in graphic detail the sacrifices required of resistance fighters in a struggle against a tyrannical colonial power bent on crushing the native society.

There is much in the story of Kubis and Gabcíc and the wider European resistance movements against National Socialist and, later, Soviet imperialism which should inspire Nationalists everywhere, Anthropoid, as an entertaining piece of popular culture is a good place to start.

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Alena Mihulová, playing the heroic Mrs Moravec, who faces the Gestapo as the reprisal raids begin