The pro-freedom march in Melbourne last Saturday was reminiscent of the Eureka Rebellion. Once again, the citizens of Melbourne, true Australians in every respect, did us proud.
The Victorians were not protesting unfair taxes or prohibitive licenses, but the unbridled tyranny of the Andrews Government and its body-armour clad auxiliaries in the police. Nevertheless, both then and now were about defying a dictatorial order.
Even if we had someone on the ground in Melbourne that day, we would have waited before publishing. Our approach is to come in when the others have rushed to file; it allows us a more informed perspective on a story. We are backing off from the tendency of alternative media, which frantically shares mainstream reporting to deconstruct its bias or because they have no original take on the yarn. It is like a race without prizes. We are more serene in our old age; adversity has taught us patience.
Again, we are not interested in the legacy media and its establishment line on events. Who needs it? The footage provided by those in attendance enabled us to witness the march for ourselves and disentangle the truth from the inevitable media humbug. The story is as straightforward as storytelling gets. At least, according to whichever camp you sit in right now.
Pro-vaxxers lounge in the lockdown lovers camp, and anyone who advocates their freedom triggers a Stalinist meltdown. Their hatred for anti-vaxxers is not because they fear a wheezy parting; they despise anyone who challenges authority.
Those supporting freedom believe they have the right to pursue their destiny unmolested by cheap tyrants in uniform, sicced on them by colourless bureaucrats chasing the pheromone of power. Freedom lovers share a selfish desire to choose what they put in their bodies. They reserve the right to be dubious about a government that has betrayed them through hypocrisy, double standards, ineptitude and mishandling of state affairs. They prefer listening to the advice of qualified medical practitioners rather than politicians. They see no harm in walking down the street, except when it results in them being thrown to the ground, pepper-sprayed and arrested.
However, incidents on the day were worthy of note: police sprayed women and dogs with CS sprayers and turned on a media ally. Call him a victim of authoritarian aggression or collateral damage, but a tabloid photographer came out of his Saturday assignment worse for wear. An officer went berserk with a canister of CS spray and allegedly targeted the Daily Mail snapper leaving him unable to peep through his camera lenses. But this is not police brutality so much as karmic desserts.
Despite this, mainstream media did report some tentative admissions of police excesses. How could it not? The pigs went Berko. And that is because they got hammered by protesters fed up with their bullying ways; it was a beautiful sight to behold.
The march began at midday at Richmond Town Hall and wound up somewhere else. A Melburnian tells us it was Kew. We checked the map, but Melbourne is such a screwy city we gave up trying to figure the path they took.
Marchers waved Eureka flags and other patriotic symbols, chanting slogans as they trooped onward. The Aussie heroes revelled in the freedom they had temporarily stolen back, bearing placards declaring their disgust and defiance at the police and main-pig in the Premier’s office. But soon, the thousands of brave, loyal Australians were hemmed in by police.
This tactic did not dampen their spirit. Marchers chanted spontaneous mantras like “sack Dan Andrews” and “no more lockdowns.” As they encountered belligerent police lines, the freedom outlaws attempted to appeal to the consciences of the armed officers by reminding them they were fellow Australians. They had more chance of watching a dinosaur lay an egg.
One gracefully ageing woman used this futile approach. Mustering all her dignity, she told an officer standing in a formation of armour-clad centurions that hitting her would be like assaulting his mother. That probably excited him.
Crowd members then sat down in the middle of the road while chanting, “you serve us… you serve us,” which proved a crowd-pleaser. Individuals trying to breach the line were shoved back by police. Any peasant watching from North Korea probably figured they had the wrong channel.
When the police blocked the main path, resourceful marchers snuck down side streets while the procession took an alternate route.
Accusations the crowd acted violently are false: the filth instigated all the rough stuff. This much was evident when the marchers burst through the police lines.
Sure, protesters at the front needled the dirtbags a wee bit, but their immoderate response begged belief. Footage of the encounter shows a cop blowing a gasket and spraying his target with airborne globules of pepper spray from his glorified Super Soaker. However, the cops had figured the protesters wrong. See, in their reckoning, the freedom marchers were sheep while they were vicious kelpies. Only, instead of pushing ahead and rounding up their keep, the crowd became imbued with the spirit of Eureka. It was like watching the ribbon snipped on a bridge opening; as the protesters surged forward, the cops parted like nervous traffic wardens at the Bathurst 1000.
The helmeted, masked, body-armoured public servants only got tough when a defenceless middle-aged woman fell to the ground. One of them was caught on camera bending down and pepper-spraying her. The media made a big deal of how a few cops, later on, stopped to help her, but they probably gave her another dose for good measure. How could we tell? Then, as a wally with an umbrella strayed from the safety of the pack, about twenty piggies bravely tackled him in a big black-uniformed scrum. According to media reports we said we wouldn’t mention, the cops were the real victims, one or two hurting their fingers as others strained their knees while beating on fallen protesters.
All in all, it was payback for how the cops behaved at the last freedom rally. The fact they came out to protest again shows their pluck, while the gutless rozzers proved what scum they are. Seriously, these pigs have to step back into civilian life sometime, and when they do, let’s hope every cafe owner gobs in their cappuccinos. Their type would side with the Chinese if they invaded.
And this is why we don’t wish to buy into anyone else’s account of the day. The lockdown submissives regard them as plague rats whilst the seething majority of Australians felt a vicarious rush of pride. Whether or not the odd biddy got sprayed is not so big a deal in the grand scheme of things since they had more guts in their threaded garters than all the double-vaxxed enablers of state tyranny possess in their collective adrenaline glands.
We say this was the Spirit of Eureka, and we salute the protesters as heroes, and we are deadly serious. Their bravery proves that this new world order is not a done deal, at least in Oz. We are too feisty for these water lilies: our instinct for freedom is too strong.
The fact these uniformed rodents handed out bulk fines of each around $5,000 doesn’t matter either. They should all contest them and block the already choked court system and they’ll dismiss the charges in no time. They haven’t the capacity to maintain their fraud let alone inflict their power, which the protesters have shown to be empty.