Received on 17.05.2020:
[Download sticker/poster as PDF for printing: naziscumPDF]
Fun for all the family!
Report back on “Mud and Horror” campaign: street-based competition by SxE hXc xVx sk8 crew (Straightedge hardcore vegan skate crew) Melbourne
In the spirit of friendly sibling rivalry, 2 fraternal brothers (in their mid-20s) from an inter-generational anarcho-punk family share individual updates of their competitive C-19 exercise regime against the racist C-18 virus infecting the streets of Melbourne !
Back in the day when I was still a young sprog, I remember my oldies would have their mates – or as they called them, comrades- over to whichever squat we were living in at the time for ‘meetings’; thinly disguised excuses for a piss up after a protest, or less often, planning sessions for various forms of direct action. A few years before I was born they had been involved, in various ways, in a successful campaign to drive the Nazi scumbags out of Brunswick in Melbourne’s inner-north. This was followed by another action to have their new shop/meeting place in Fawkner closed down. This new location was much further north, and the Nazis must have figured they would be safe from the kind of popular grassroots protests so successful in ‘Brunny’, an inner city neighbourhood yet to be gentrified that housed many students among its predominantly working class streets . This was a high point in Melbourne’s anti fascist struggle and inevitably things would be compared to it, particularly after the arrival of black block tactics in response to the gronk led “Reclaim ‘straylia” movement.
I would listen with interest as the oldies and their comrades discussed the turnout for each protest- who had given speeches, how heavy the cops had been, and after a few beers, the bitching about various groucho marxist groups and how they had posited themselves as leaders of whatever campaign was happening at the time- while also opposing any direct action that was in any way outside the parameters of the established protest routine. Gather, sell newspapers, give speeches, chant and march, march and chant, have a bit of jostling with the cops, give another short speech or 2, declare the day a victory, then fuck off back to their safe neighbourhoods to congratulate themselves. Not much has changed there. But the point is, our fam has always been involved in anti fascist resistance.
As committed anarcho-punks, my oldies indulged in a range of activities not condoned by the staid Trotskyist left (and others still that were anathema to most anarchist tendencies – and as straight edge I kinda agree with them in some ways, while at the same time knowing from experience that just because someone takes drugs of one kind instead of another, it doesn’t make them useless, untrustworthy, or any less militant!). One of their less, shall we say, contentious, ‘pastimes’ back then was removing the stickers that the fash group ‘Nation Action’ would put up all over the place. They would compare notes about where they had appeared and how many they had taken down. I even remember being pushed in my stroller down a major inner city road as they removed (and even now I still remember the playful argument over the exact number) 43 of the freshly pasted stickers, removed with glee!
In the 80s and 90s NA (National Action- not Narcotics Anonymous- tho we reckon both are as bad as each other in their shameless brainwashing and cultishness) had exploited the growth of the skinhead punk movement to boost numbers, and there were a lot more bonehead foot soldiers out there chucking the stickers up, so finding dozens at a time, while not common, was far from unheard of. My old man reckons he must have taken down many hundreds in his time, going right back to to start of the 80s. Needless to say, despite decades of stickering, the quality of the Nazi’s agit prop has not improved. According to the oldies, the long term bonehead responsible for these stickers is the ‘Reverend’ Patrick O’Sullivan- a foot soldier for the Fuhrer whose been around at least as long as our oldies.
For years there was only one slogan – “Stop The Asian Invasion!”
While this slogan is no longer used, and the NA is gone (in fact, according to intel on the fash, Patrick O Sullivan attempted to take over the Australian National Action to ‘nazify’ it, and worked in collaboration with a Special Branch police informer to rat on his National Action mates). The gronks of that generation doubtless still harbour a hatred for Asians and brown skinned people in general, and as their online drivel shows, they are no less homophobic or anti-semitic than before. However, their main platform nowadays is the hatred of Muslims, with the absurd catch-cry of ” Stop the Islamic takeover”. But the fanatical remnants of NA are still out there – calling themselves ( or his self? Yes, we mean you Patrick O’Sullivan), Combat 18, the name derived from the first letters of their guru Adolf Hitler- A=1, H=8. pretty clever huh?
So anyway, it’s pretty cool coming from a background of radical anti fascist activity. We have both seen our oldies and their comrades do some fucking rad shit over the years, and I am stoked to say they are still at it- and whilst their commitment remains, their tactics have changed a bit, but they’re still always willing to share their advice and experiences with our crew. A lot of our crews have similar backgrounds, and others wish they did. Basically we were brought up knowing we could never give these white supremacist swine an inch, coz they would take it and grow, and lets face it, Australia is fertile ground for racism!
Me and my bro Aly live on different sides of the city, and our sk8 crews have long had a friendly rivalry, manifesting equally on ramps and walls. But we got a new game on now. Basically its about who can scratch and cover more combat 18 stickers! I’m out north, he’s inner east. In both spots, and more across the city, shit’s getting serious. And the old reverend is feeling it. The hate filled scumbag has pulled out some vile new one liners of late, with “Death to illegal refugee scum “ and Multiculturalism is the virus” his most vicious. But the decrepit old Nazi fuck is a bit of a runt, and I’ve been slapping my stickers up high, a tactic Aly is likely to follow. So Mr Blood and Honour may be in need of a walking frame with a ladder, lol. Don’t fall off bonehead!
Anyhow, enough from me. I will generously let my work-wanky younger bro elaborate further – despite what he reckons, I’m much better on the deck and with a spray can in one hand and a brick in the other 😉
Joe and I are fraternal siblings, of different fathers. By the time I was born 2 years after Joe, his dad was still around, but mum had another lover. Soon after I was born, mum decided she was over men, and had a girlfriend for a few years. Growing up, both Joe and I are proud to say that despite the inevitable ups and downs (like all families), our upbringing defied social norms and we mostly all lived together, as a solid crew, for the first decade of my life. We travelled around a lot in convoys from protest and blockade sites, sleeping in vans, under the stars, and in urban squats, before we settled down and moved into a houso estate around the time I started high school.
Unlike other kids who lived conventional lives, we were always treated as part of the crew, never spoken down to or patronised by the constant circle of older people around us, and without the influence of a telly, we learnt to think for ourselves.
Every year, fuelled by a diet of roasted tofu ‘chicken’, brussel sprout salad and other vegan munchies, crusty old lefties and dreaded anarcho-punks would bring plates of dumpstered food or expropriated delicacies from boujiee health food stores to what was deemed a ‘festivity of resistance to the anti-capitalist anti Christian Xmas day tradition’. But, as Joe implied, these annual events were just like a smaller version of the parties the oldies would hold for select post-action revelries. I remember a few particularly raucous gatherings of the fam’s closest mates, which although they wouldn’t talk much about it in front of us, they didn’t explicitly hide from us either. Being both nosy and switched on enough to realise they were celebrating some sort of successful mission, (other than just scoring a good deal- which like Joe said, we don’t judge if someone needs a way to cope with the horrors of being shat on by capitalism, we just don’t do it ourselves), we didn’t ask too many questions or talk to anyone except each other in speculating what they’d been up to. There would be in-jokes amongst the oldies about it for months after- but as they instilled in us, they never talked on the phone to each other about what they were up to- not even to joke about news stories and talk back radio responses to the outrages we assume they were responsible for, and we never talked to other kids at school, though we did talk in hushed tones to the kids of our ‘extended family’ (or as the fam liked to call it, ‘affinity action comrades’).
Basically, our family and lifestyle was everything the system was opposed to. While other kids were told they had Santa to look forward to at every end of year school holidays, the oldies were always straight up with us. We knew that it was just an exercise in exploiting workers for the benefit of capitalism, with Christian myths an excuse for rich corporate cunts to sell more shit. We didn’t have to write lists lying about how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ we’d been all year round just to get an ugly-as-fuck plastic monster truck. Even back then, it seemed to Joe and I that the whole being ‘good’ all year round with the tenuous promise of getting a piece of shit the telly told us we needed seemed like a shameless way of bribing kids to behave and obey the arbitrary rules of school, society, the law and our parents. Surely in the long term it would just destroy any kid’s trust and relationship with their parents when they realised that a fantasy man who flies through the sky on 1 night a year delivering useless bits of shit to well-behaved kids was a complete lie?
So for us, there was no letter to Santa bullshit or mum having to save her pension for half the year for a Christmas hamper full of inedible processed meat like canned ham in jelly- ‘food’ that we wouldn’t even feed to our dogs!
To gauge whether we’d been ‘good’ or ‘bad’, the oldies and their crew would encourage us to tell them how many times we’d outrun cops and security guards for skating down the local shops and drains, where we’d chucked up FTP and ACAB tags, and the most original ways we’d thought of in ripping stuff from rich cunts’ shops. Mum reckons Joe’s first words were “whoosh”, which was the sound a cop car wheel would make when mum plugged it with a shiv while my big bro was creating a diversion, pretending to piss on the front wheel.
On our birthdays, our oldies would go out flogging us stuff we actually wanted, and even better, they’d take us with them to teach us how to rack things we needed ourselves, or could share with other people who needed stuff but couldn’t afford it!
Back then, our folks and the people round us would talk about a few different groups of blokes they reckon had more hair than brains, that is gangs of Nazi skin heads, who were causing problems for the anarcho-punk community, our queer ‘uncles’ and ‘aunts’, and family friends from migrant communities. Joe mentioned the National Action group, but I also remember there was lots of talk of the Nazi group the Australian Nationalist Movement. They were responsible for attacking Asian owned businesses in Perth, and resultant actions were instigated by our family’s crew to identify local Nazis who supported their cause. I remember mum saying that these arseholes weren’t great in number but posed a real threat to anyone who dared to fight them back, or was simply the wrong race, religion, ethnicity, sexuality, or didn’t conform to their bigoted worldview. I remember lots of discussion between both our dads and mum and her girlfriend who reckoned that though there were different Nazi groups active at the time, the core leadership Nazis seemed to be the same group of blokes. Apparently, they would fight among themselves and start new groups consisting of the same dickheads, just in different combinations, with a few dills recruited as expendable foot soldiers. When they weren’t fighting among each other- and weren’t out trying to bash our oldies and their mates at punk gigs or after protests (or indeed anyone else they came across who they decided deserved to cop a beating) they were actively prowling the streets of Perth, Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane starting shit fights with people based simply on the colour of their skin or their anti-racist and anti-authoritarian t-shirts and patches.
A few of the prominent names me and Joe remember being discussed back then included Jack Tongeren, Russ (the skull) May, Jim Salem, Peter Coleman and Patrick O’Sullivan – apparently some of the nastiest white pride scumbags of the 80s and 90s on the national(alist) scene.
By 2020, you’d have thought most of these fuckwits would have simply slithered off under a rock living lives as lonely cucks; died of an excess of hate-producing bile related cancer; fatally stabbed each other (as became the unfortunate end to other Nazi personalities of the era); or simply given up on their street thuggery by conforming to another predictable ending (e.g. settling down to run a business suited to their ideologies- perhaps swilling shit in a sewerage plant? Marrying a nice Aryan girl- or compromising their white supremacist bullshit ideals to marry an unsuspecting mail order bride to tend to their domestic needs- because from what we know of them, they’re probably the sort of blokes who wouldn’t know how to piss straight or wash a dish- and would demand an unpaid domestic slave to clean up the skanky nests they presumably wallow in. We can only hope if this was the case, their missus’ covertly used birth control and that at the soonest possible time following their ceremony of matrimonial bliss- took them to the proverbial cleaners for whatever they could get in a messy divorce proceeding!). Unbelievably though, some of that generation of arseholes are still around and still active!
Now when we’re talking old skool Nazis, we’re not referring to the current breed of ‘patriots’ like Blair, Sherman, Avi, Neil etc, the sort of bigoted wankers who appeal to ‘respectable mum and dad’ racists through social media- we’re talking the old skool Nazi thug scum of the 70s/ 80s/ 90s whose modus-operandi involved street-based campaigns of ultra violence against refugees, non-white migrants, queers, leftists, and others deemed ‘gas-chamber material’.
The crews Joe and I hang with fully recognise the dangers posed by this new wave of neo-Nazi patriots, not so much as active street forces- rather that their anti-immigration and morally conservative and racist agendas are already implemented by the LNP (whose policies are influenced by arseholes like the Australian Christian Lobby) and supported by right-wing scum like Pauline Hanson, Bob Katter, Jackie Lambie and the like. Our focus is more on challenging the enduring old-skool Nazi street agit-prop, and reminding those responsible for it that although they may be getting on in years, we intend to hold them accountable for the decades of shit they have subjected innumerable individuals and communities to. In this project, which we deem the “Mud and Horror” campaign, we are focusing particularly on the relentless hate propaganda produced and distributed by the “Reverend Patrick O Sullivan”. In fact harassing Patrick to a well-deserved grave in the near future would not be an outcome we would lose any sleep over!
From our knowledge of Patrick, in addition to his decades long Nazi agit-prop stickering campaign, this unrepentant racist prick’s secondary claim to fame is as the Australian ‘Reverend’ of the World Church of the Creator. What a ludicrous name – but wait, it gets even more absurd! The church’s pillars are predictably the ‘survival, expansion, and advancement of the white race’. The Church’s sacred aspirations advocate a ‘Turner Diaries’ style wet dream of ‘racial holy war’, with Patrick’s commitment to the church’s ideology of RAcial HOly WAr (RAHOWA) tattooed across his pink skinned (and expanding) gut. Becoming an ordained minister for the church seems as easy as simply proving yourself “a white man or woman over the age of 16” and filling in a questionnaire. We reckon that Patrick may have struggled with this part, particularly given the questionnaire requires a written response of 1 paragraph to each of the 150 questions contained within it.
Delusional fuckwit adherents to the church’s doctrine believe that western culture is becoming “more decadent”, as evidenced by ‘black crimes’, ‘the acceptance of homosexuality’, ‘interracial marriage’, ‘increasing drug use’, and the ‘lack of identity amongst white people’- themes directly reflected in Patrick’s relentless stickering campaign.
With an expanded repertoire of stickers targeting other communities of which the Fuhrer would ostensibly not approve, his recent stickers specifically target queers, illicit drug users, refugees, and leftists/ anarchists. The Reverend’s recent offerings include charming statements including : “Shoot Anarchists and Communists” (which has intimidated such a large number of anarchists we are now seeking witness protection en-mass – not!) ; ” Cure AIDS kick a poofer to death”; “Death to Junkies”; “White pride world wide” (with c18 contact details); “Death to refugees”, and general combat 18 promotional stickers, with a website address promoting Australia’s pathetic ‘Blood and Honour’* Nazi music distro network. This site is particularly laughable – riddled with spelling mistakes and barely legible text. For someone with such a rabid commitment to ensuring that Australia stays an English speaking colony, you aren’t doing a very good job of representing the basics of the English language Patrick. (Alas, we fail to share your laudable commitment to the sanctity of the ‘mother tongue’, and any spelling mistakes in this text are solely due to laziness on our behalf.) Similarly, we find it hilarious that interviews with the handful of bands on the site who espouse their hate rhetoric aren’t committed enough to their ideology to actually show their faces, and prefer to have them blacked out for anonymity (more ridiculously, the band we are referring to aren’t even based locally, and as Nazi cow-punk redneck Americans, merely undertook 1 tour of Australia almost a decade ago.) In fact, the lack of current content on the Blood and Honour web site seems indicative of a distinct lack of interest and support for your distro- we suspect the only people who waste their time attempting to navigate the digital vomit your stickers promote are antifascists who are in it for a cheap laugh at your expense.
Lately, the Reverend seems to be trying for a more sophisticated approach in his use of language – seen thru his eyes as clever, but puerile and rudimentary by everyone else – his rhyming poetry reminiscent of the sort which is included in “learning to read” kindergarten-grade Goldenbooks. A recent sticker attempting literary genius reads “Multiculturalism- spreading disease with the greatest of ease”. Bet you stayed up for weeks mulling over that sad offering Patrick!
The World Church of the Creator encourages its members to spread their diseased doctrine using a variety of proselyting strategies, including ”to work feverishly and aggressively to distribute literature on behalf of the white race, to promote and foster white solidarity”. Presumably, sad old Patrick’s decades of stickering the lampposts of Melbourne is his interpretation of what constitutes a meaningful contribution toward advancing the cause. (We note for such a hard man, promoting combat 18- a network deemed ‘terrorist’ in several countries around the planet- Patrick’s efforts never involve stickering on anything beyond a public amenity. Perhaps as an ordained minister in the World Church of the Creator, he feels a moral responsibility to uphold local council laws re- graffitti, postering and flyering? Although he may feel obliged to uphold the laws of the land, his stickers are an exercise in aesthetic criminality- not only are they of a consistently shit quality, they never fail to utilise anything bar the most unimaginative and stale Microshit fonts and clip-art images.)
Sadly for Patrick, street-based efforts at countering his vile agit-prop didn’t stop with people of his own generation. As a young (and as you would describe us- “mud blooded”) antifascist sk8er crew, we are able to easily move around the city tracking the well known routes you frequent- routes we’ve noticed that commonly seem to be between public transport stops. Just as the anarcho-punk generation before us, we too are committed to continuing the game of destroying blatant Nazi agit-prop, in fact we continue the tradition of competing between ourselves as to who can remove more of your stickers within a given time frame. And as you have no doubt noticed, we’ve been leaving personalised messages for you in the areas we know you target.
Several months ago, we began our own stickering campaign specifically targeting Patrick, not just removing his stickers, but covering them (as well as many other areas around Melbourne we know he is prone to ‘proselytise’), with stickers identifying him by image and name. In tribute to his skinhead heritage and role as ordained reverend of the World Church of the Creator stickers read “Skin the Reverend Patrick O’Sullivan. Burn in hell Nazi scum”. An obvious play on words- and nothing less than what we believe deserve you- our desire to ‘skin’ you is is a direct reference to the despicable history of murdered Buchenwald WW2 concentration camp detainees who were reputedly skinned and their hides recycled into lamps made from human flesh. With the amount of tattoos smeared across your pink proudly ‘sun burnt’ Australian skin, perhaps your tattoos would have appealed to Illse Koch’s penchant for tattooed lampshades? (Obviously though you were too cowardly to display your shitty ink work to other inmates, and we note during your 2002 conviction for viciously stabbing another one of your fuckwit mates at a Fitzroy bonehead gathering (for allegedly not adhering strongly enough to your ‘white pride’ ideology), rumour has it that you felt persecuted by the Herald Sun for printing photos of your easily identifiable messy ink jobs; and subsequently out of fear of retaliation from the ‘mud bloods’ you’d be sharing your wing with, you spent your time incarcerated in a protective unit reserved specifically for pedophiles and snitches in fear of your life.)
Since launching our anti- Patrick/ doxxing stickering campaign, which we deem the “Mud and Horror” campaign, we seem to have attracted the ire of the ageing hate speech preacher. We noticed that his efforts at removing our stickers seems to specifically focus on removing his image (believe us, if we had a visage like that, we wouldn’t be proud of it either) and his name. It seems the Reverend has been attempting to cover his image with “good night left side” stickers (original sentiment there Pat-seems you may have adapted it from a popular antifascist slogan?)
Thus far, between Joe and my crews, we have stuck up over 400 stickers across a wide range of suburbs. And as part of our friendly sibling rivalry under the “Mud and Horror” banner, we intend to expand the competition with a new range of personalised stickers. Keep your eyes open Patrick, you might just see your face and further personal details coming to a street near you soon!
*In part Blood and Honour is the inspiration for the name of our campaign, Mud and Horror. Mud because we take pride in the fact we aren’t of ‘pure Aryan’ background, and Horror, because we view C-18 as more pathetic than a B-grade horror-show to say the very least.