Nothing to see here. The BFD. Photoshop by Lushington Brady.

I asked recently, just what does it take the West to actually rise up in anger against jihadism? We’re still waiting to find out.

Certainly not the murder and horrific mutilation of 130 concert-goers in Paris. Nor the deliberate murder of little girls at a pop concert in Manchester. An aborted plot to kidnap and murder Prince George would almost certainly have provoked little but smug satisfaction in the sewers of social media.

Days ago, a jihadist was one locked car door away from murdering dozens, if not hundreds, of expectant mothers and newborn babies, on one of the most solemn days on the Western calendar. So, far, nobody has even dared call it “terrorism”. Who wants to take bets on how long before London mayor Sadiq Khan tweets his “condolences” to the “victim” (i.e., the would-be jihadi murderer)?

We’ve already had the ubiquitous palaver about “not being divided” from Boris Johnson. “Our freedoms and our way of life will always prevail,” Johnson pontificated.

Which is arrant tosh. Britons are today, much less free than they were a generation ago — largely because its elites have been cowed into submission by jihadi terror. Tommy Robinson was banged up in prison for supposedly offending Muslim child rapists, but Imams are free to spew the most unhinged hate in mosques. A British man died in jail for the heinous crime of putting bacon on a mosque door, but 30,000 known jihadis walk the streets.

Known jihadis. Then there are, as the saying goes, the unknown unknowns. Emad Jamil Al-Swealmeen, who detonated the device in Liverpool, was “unknown to MI5”.

The bleeding heart, “let them come”, open-border enthusiasts have yet more blood on their hands. Al-Swealmeen repeatedly had his asylum claims rejected — which raises the obvious question of why he was even still in Britain. But then, as we’ve seen in Australia, even illegals who lose every single application and court case can rely on gaming the system — and the support of hanky-wringing “asylum seeker advocates” — until the bombs come home.

And, by this time next week, the latest jihadi horror will be swept away in a tide of hashtags and “they are us” hijab selfies.

The video of the premature detonation, and the thought of the carnage that would have been wrought had the perpetrator made it just a few more feet, will be appalling to anyone who watches it. But the test of whether we are truly appalled by this 21st century primitivism will come not today but next week or next month.

Will we still be talking about the monstrous wickedness that stalked hundreds of lives yesterday? I would like to think so but I am not convinced.

It is exactly one month since a Member of Parliament was stabbed to death inside a church. Even for a live case, in which the Contempt of Court Act is now active, it is remarkable how quickly Sir David Amess’s death fell out of the headlines. How many, asked to list the key events of the past 30 days, would think to include it? How many even remember his name?

Instead, we will be endlessly enjoined to pander to the glass-jawed fanaticism of Islam. Imams will be invited to preach that “there is no God but Allah” at churches (but don’t hold your breath waiting for a priest, especially not a lady vicar, to be invited to preach the Trinity at a mosque). Anyone who dares utter the most muted anger at the ideology that seeks to murder expectant mothers and babies will be banned from social media and subject to a “non-crime hate incident” investigation.

There is a whole vocabulary of anaesthetising pabulum deployed by politicians, police, journalists and others to soothe any potential anger or outrage among the public. There are a lot of soft-focus words like ‘communities’ and ‘unity’ and ‘values’, as though mass slaughter and attempts at it were ‘adverse experiences’ to be analysed in therapy-speak and on therapy terms. Seemingly incapable of regulating that element of the populace that seeks to blow the rest of us heavenwards, we have settled for regulating how we think and feel about that. This isn’t old-fashioned surrender, which can have a certain nobility to it; this is whiny, self-help surrender.

Spectator Australia

In the meantime, we can just thank a quick-thinking cabbie that it wasn’t so much worse.

There were unconfirmed reports on Sunday night that the cab driver diverted to the hospital after becoming suspicious about his passenger, but was hurt when a device was detonated.

It was also claimed that the driver had been able to flee the vehicle and lock the alleged suspect inside in order to prevent any further harm […]

“He is a hero, when he noticed the bomb, he locked the scumbag in the car,” one man wrote.

NZ Herald

Well, he’s a hero at least until he’s damned as that most unpardonable of modern sins in the West: an “Islamophobe”. This is exactly what happened to the hero “Lion of London Bridge”, Roy Larner, who fought off knife-wielding jihadi murderers in 2017. Larner was ultimately referred to the Prevent program, as a “right-wing extremist”.

We should feel horror over what happened in Liverpool. We should feel horror and repugnance and indignation and we should parlay them into public policy, political rhetoric and public attitudes more reflective of the scale of villainy that confronts us. When we stop feeling horror, we have surrendered in our souls.

Spectator Australia

The West supposedly just wrapped up a mostly-disastrous 20-year “War on Terror” with ignominious surrender. But the truth is that the actual War on Terror ended 18 years ago, with the initial destruction of the al Qaeda training camps in Afghanistan. Everything after that was a War for Halliburton Profits, where the West bent over backwards trying not to “offend” terrorists.

Even when Joe Biden finally, shamefully, fled in haste, soldiers were ordered to scrub any anti-Taliban messages from the 80-billion-odd dollars’ worth of military hardware they left behind for the terrorists.

After all, we can’t offend jihadis, no matter how horrifically they offend everything once sacred to us.

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Punk rock philosopher. Liberalist contrarian. Grumpy old bastard. I grew up in a generational-Labor-voting family. I kept the faith long after the political left had abandoned it. In the last decade...