Andrew Bolt On His 'Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name'

The world mocks.

Andrew Bolt has written a sustained defence of Tony Abbott that is being mocked by the small-minded and hateful twitterati as a "love letter", with all the teenage sniggering that suggests ("Andrew and Tony sitting in a tree K.I.S.S.I.N.G!") in ways that are arguably borderline homophobic. Which is not just petty but a little distasteful, as we all know they really don't like that kinda thing.

It is sad to see. And all because Andrew, unable to take all the hurtful things everyone has been saying about the great man any longer, pens an ode to Tony called "The Loss Of PM Abbott A Time Of Sorrow".

In it, he pours his heart out about the pain he feels over the loss of "one of the finest human beings to be Prime Minister". And just because he knighted Prince Philip, ate a raw onion and sought to dismantle the social safety net in the most extreme agenda of kicking the shit out of the poor seen since the days of the Hungry Mile in the Great Depression!

"You’ll laugh that I can write this massive praise of him when almost everyone else is horse-laughing," Andrew writes, in one of the rare examples of accuracy in his columns. For Andrew, poor Tony "seemed too moral for the job" -- a fact definitely missed by the rest of us.

Perhaps it was missed especially by the asylum seeker children Tony held in isolated prison camps subjected to systematic abuse. But really, I think we all should put our hands up and admit "moral" is not the first word that comes to mind when thinking of former PM Abbott.

The world does not understand.

Tony "led the world’s defiance of deadly Russian strongman Vladimir Putin", says Andrew, defying cynics who dare suggest the only thing his much-ridiculed threat to "shirtfront Putin" led the world into was hysterics.

And he was kind! "Ask my children how gentle he was when he called around." See! Tony loved children! Not the ones on Manus Island and Nauru obviously... but Aussie children, obviously!

Andrew has his criticisms, sure -- who wouldn't? Largely that Tony just refused to lower himself to the level of his dirty rotten opponents.

"I could have shaken the silly bugger, who played politics like it was cricket when everyone else was cage fighting," Andrew writes in possibly the only known example of anyone accusing Tony Abbott of not being enough of brawler.

Just too good for this world is our Andrew's Tony.

I guess the rest of us just don't know the real Tony, only having the well-documented public record of his constant brutal brawling in defence of what can only be called a hate-filled agenda to go by.

But Andrew enlightens us: "Those I love best are people of honour, warmth and kindness. Tony Abbott is one such man..."

In case you hadn't guessed, Andrew is really upset. "Sorry to sound so melodramatic," he writes. No need to apologise, mate! You just sound heartfelt and Christ knows there is too little of such passion in this cruel world!

Sure, much of the cruelty in the world comes from politicians like your beloved and their media defenders like yourself, who was found guilty of violating the Racial Discrimination Act for some of the most hate-filled commentary this hardly hate-free nation has seen ... but all you can do is speak from your broken little heart.

'Tell me more, Tony, you're so wise!.

Sadly, speaking from his heart has brought predictable ridicule down on Andrew's head -- and even utter bemusement and wondering if he has been living on Mars or perhaps taken magic mushrooms every day since Abbott became PM two years ago.

But I have it on good authority that Andrew will not take such mockery lying down and plans a moving speech at the start of this week's Bolt Report to answer his critics.

Below is a leaked copy of the planned speech. Sure it owes a little to Oscar Wilde's famous court room defence of "the love that dare not speak its name", but then few have been as terribly persecuted and misunderstood as Oscar Wilde than has Andrew Bolt -- who was also subjected to an unfair and cruel court case that found him guilty of race hate.

While Oscar was sentenced to two years hard labour, Andrew has been subjected to heading up a weekly TV show and writing a major column in the most widely read paper in the country.

Well... put aside all your prejudices about the man. I challenge anyone to read Andrew's speech with dry eyes.

* * *

What is the "Love that dare not speak its name"?

"The Love that dare not speak its name" in this century is such a great affection of a Murdoch columnist for a conservative politician as there was between Murdoch’s Sun and Margaret Thatcher, such as Milton Friedman made the very basis of his philosophy, and such as you find in the writings of Goebbels and Rand.

It is that deep, spiritual affection that is as pure as it is perfect. It dictates and pervades great works of policy documents like those of the IPA and Sydney Institute, and those blog posts of mine, such as they are.

It is in this century misunderstood, so much misunderstood that it may be described as the "Love that dare not speak its name," and on account of it I am placed where I am now, with even my usually loyal blog commentators wondering what the fuck I’ve been smoking.

It is beautiful, it is fine, it is the noblest form of affection. There is nothing unnatural about it. It is ideological, and it repeatedly exists between an hard right political thug and a writer found guilty of spreading race hate, when the propagandist has ideology, and the politician has all the fight, hate and promise of high office before him. 

That it should be so the world does not understand. The world mocks at it and sometimes puts one in the pillory for it, or at least, on national TV.

How can they look into my eyes
And still they don't believe me
How can they hear me say those words
And still they don't believe me
And if they don't believe me now
Will they ever believe me?
And if they don't believe me now
Will they ever believe me?

The boy with the thorn in his side
Behind the hatred there lies
A plundering desire for love

It's OK Andrew! Morrissey believes you! Morrissey understands!