The messages started early. Some on Twitter. Some emails. A couple of phone calls. All of them sourced back to one news item. The conviction of Andrew Bolt under racial vilification laws. Everyone assumed, rightly, I’d be champing at the bit to hook into the issue of m’unlearned colleague. But probably not in the way you’d expect.
I don’t see the conviction of Bolt as a triumph.
Why?
Because Bolt is the sort of oxygen thief I revel in vilifying. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to wake up and find out that once again the champion of the overdog has disgraced himself in public and that Whacking Day is upon us.
Bolt is a gift to likes of me; a self parodying buffoon who rushed to blame the recent massacre in Norway on jihadi extremists, hours before the real perp was revealed to be the sort of unhinged, Aryan culture warrior who’d probably find Bolt’s columns about jihadi extremists to be a jolly engaging read.
People like Bolt do not need to be suppressed. They need — they desperately need — to be mocked. Mocked for their ignorance. Mocked for their paranoia. Mocked for their delusions of adequacy — via redwolf.newsvine.com
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