I am done. Over it. Had enough.

I am done with being told to be ashamed of my heritage. I am over my culture being vilified. I have had enough of apologising.

I’m tired of being lectured and finger-wagged at by people too lazy and feckless to get off their own arses and improve their lot in life. I am well and truly fed up with being brow-beaten that my country – far from perfect, but still better than 90% of a world full of fecund shitholes – is the scum of history and deserves nothing more than being burned to the ground.

And I am beyond giving the tiniest rat’s arse about the “feelings” of, as Jim Goad so aptly puts it, “a gaggle of illiterate oinking livestock who can’t tell the difference between feelings and facts”. If these pustulous excrescences on the soft posterior of our country are “offended” by a statue or a brand of beer – I unequivocally do not give a shit.

The eruption of angst in recent weeks around the Black Lives Matter movement has had a significant impact on a range of things. Broadcasters have slapped race warnings across previously much-loved films. Portraits and sculptures of venerated individuals have been removed from view. And a long, teary line of entertainers has formed from those apologising for sketches once branded funny, now deemed offensive.

And brands are part of the debate too. Long-established American products are rebranding because their identities and logos are deemed too offensive.

“Too offensive” for whom? Pink-haired landwhales with terminal cases of sexual frustration and too many cats? Grifting grievance mongers who return the generosity of the nation which offered them asylum, welfare and free education with unrelenting hostility and a staggeringly disproportionate criminality?

Australian craft brewer, the Colonial Brewing Company, is the latest to full afoul of the New Cultural Revolution.

The word colonial brings up unfortunate associations with the past and is strongly linked to the British subjugation of the indigenous people of Australia[…]things blew up earlier this month when bottle shop Blackhearts & Sparrows decided the removal of the brand would make its stores “a more inclusive place for all”.

The east coast bottle shop is probably less than 1 per cent of Colonial’s off-premises sales. But the move generated a sea of publicity and sparked something of a national debate.

Heed the wisdom of Darryl Kerrigan and tell ‘em to get stuffed.

Why should “colonial” “bring up unfortunate associations with the past”?

For the majority of Australians, “colonial” is their heritage. For all Australians, a modern, liberal, prosperous democracy is its legacy.

So, a noisy minority complain about their “hurt feelings”? Why should I care? Again, as Goad says, “Explain to me why I should care about the feelings of people who don’t care about mine”. Why should I spare any feelings for people who endlessly denigrate my heritage and culture?

And don’t give me bullshit about respecting them. Frankly, they’ve had nothing but respect for decades. All the endless, dreary, “welcome to country” ceremonies. Politicians fancy-dressing in hijabs. The hashtags and non-stop ego-stroking and kowtowing from the moronic legacy media and spineless politicians. The smug baloney about “the world’s oldest living culture” – as if that culture hasn’t progressed one whit in 60,000 years and that is something to be proud of.

The professional whingers have gorged on respect and compassion. Overdosed on it. Like all junkies, they can never get enough. Not granting instant gratification of their addiction is met with hostility, resentment and relentless emotional blackmail.

Way back in ‘98, when I still bought into this bullshit, I dutifully lined up to write my name in one of the 461 “Sorry Books” that were trundled around the country in a national caravan of hair-shirting. That national gesture of compassion and humility has been returned with only more vilification and resentment.

Well, I’m over it. I have “compassion” fatigue. I don’t feel sorry. Time for some tough love.

The people I am prepared to respect are the people who refuse to live in the past and be defined by phony victimhood. Who dust themselves off and have a go. And who are willing to give respect back, rather than abuse and resentment.

Cook was a greater man than whinging activists will ever be. The BFD.

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