Never smile at a crocodile

Never smile at a crocodile. And never, and I mean this, laugh out loud at a white supremacist Nazi when he’s having a beach day in Northland with his supremely white mini jackbooted toddler. I didn’t – the camo trousers and jack-boots on a frying Saturday morning were slightly scary. As was the camo flick knife that was attached to the camo trousers. But I was laughing on the inside.

I was also in slight admiration for the young right-wing extremist. It takes some dedication and commitment to be wearing heavy-duty jack-boots and to have your politics tattooed all over your arms on a sunny day. The swastika and the storm-troopy lightning bolts are fairly hard-core on such young puny white little limbs. It seemed all wrong somehow and so I went to offer him some sunscreen because I thought it might be deeply uncool if he had to go back to Wellington or Christchurch or wherever he’d come from to fight the cause of bright pink supremacy. He might get accused of ethnic diversity tolerance and beaten up for being gay. I also thought that his practically albino beautiful little skin-head son looked very cute in the jack-boots and could only be so blindingly white if he had been part of a special breeding programme – possibly on Kyle Chapman’s ‘Aryan Base’ farm in Rangiora where like-minded skinheads play paintball and grow organic vegies. I also hoped that if the toddler suddenly ran off into the waves, he’d do so between the flags so that someone who wasn’t wearing 10 kilo strapped up boots on would be able to save him.  

I wondered if young storm trooper was feeling the hate on such a sunny day with all the different coloured bottoms of the local kids covered in their surf club’s colours, going about their business of grabbing sticks and putting their foreheads on the sand in preparation for greater things like: saving lives one day. Somehow I always thought it would be easier to feel more hatey if you lived in a miserable climate. Maybe he’d come North to take a break from the right wing resistance – if so I hoped he wasn’t going any further North where he’d definitely be in the minority colour group because then he might get a radical boot camp of culture and politics somewhere north of Rawene.

If this young kid ever became a lifeguard would he still only want to save white ones or would the camaraderie, fun and responsibility shared among his multi-coloured companions make him  see things a different way?

It must take an awful lot of energy and a sense of impending doom and persecution to maintain unlimited hateyness against almost everyone who is not the same as yourself. I’m on the right wing resistance email list mainly because Kyle is a worse speller than I am which makes me feel good. A few weeks ago Kyle sent me this cheery missive regarding the Food Bill:
We really are in the last days of freedom. We know most of you will sit back and wait for it all to roll over you while you hide away and pretend you will be ok. Rabbits like that will get whats comming. But those who want to stand up and help us work against these laws and lack of freedom, join us, or start your own resistance. Prepare. Arm yourself. will you let Government inforcers take your food and arrest you for growing it?” (sic.)

I intend to arm myself with organic carrots and joust John Key if he approaches.

I laugh – but sometimes I think we should take these guys at their word. How many people laughed at Norway’s mass murderer Andres Behring Breivik and his lunatic right wing Knights’ Templar before he actually carried out what he had already calmly (albeit insanely) said he would?

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