A few years ago I was keen to study psychology, but I wasn’t naïve about the state of the institutions in Australia so I wasn’t sure whether it was worth doing or if (given my reputation) I’d be permitted to study anything at all.
But I was still a living, breathing Australian citizen with a theoretical “right to an education”. With that in mind I began searching for courses.
Rather than cough up the $30,000 to try enrolling directly into a Diploma of Psychology, I took advantage of an offer at a local TAFE to begin a Cert IV in Mental Health, which was relatively cheap and would serve as a sort of test case as to whether this school thing was even doable for me.
I went into the course with an open mind and not really knowing what to expect. This was to be my first time in an Australian classroom in about 17 years.
My fellow students were a mixed bag of young and older people, all relatively simple and without direction. Some were fresh out of high school, others were having some sort of mid-life crisis and clambering for something new.
The one thing they all had in common was at least one mental health diagnosis and personal stories of traumatic suffering, which they shared as often as they could. Everybody identified with a particular sort of illness or trauma, making me the odd one out.
But it was easy enough to blend in by simply asking a lot of questions since “the self” was at the centre of all this mental health stuff, everybody attracted to it was so eager to talk about themselves and they loved me for asking the questions.
I was never asked anything about myself in return and so it took them over a month to figure out who I actually was.
After a few weeks I learned that literally one-third of the course consisted of special “aboriginal studies”, which was administered by a unique type of aboriginal teacher (a small White woman with blonde hair who was married to a Federal cop, a fact she felt it was necessary to drive home a few times for some reason).
These “aboriginal studies” consisted of quizzes, assignments, videographies and group projects, all of which constituted an absolute onslaught of propaganda made to convince students of a genocide against the aboriginal people.
The term “massacre” was at the heart of these studies and repeated most often. Many times per week the class would hear of various unprovoked “massacres” of aboriginals (usually defenceless children) at the hands of the White British colonials.
Students were told of aboriginal children being buried in the ground up to their necks, then having their heads “kicked off for sport”.
Other aboriginal children were reportedly stripped naked and tied to trees, whipped on occasion and left to slowly bleed out or starve to death.
It was even suggested that the British came to Australia with Influenza and other viruses carefully contained in glass jars, which they knowingly and deliberately unleashed onto the unsuspecting aboriginal tribes, amounting to a conscientious sort of “chemical warfare”.
The stories went on and were rivalled in fantastic gruesomeness only by tales of the Nazi holocaust.
On more than one occasion I aced a class quiz which offered multiple choice answers to a series of questions. Naturally, I chose the answers which made the British seem most abhorrent or concluded death tolls as “higher than previously thought”. I would always finish first.
I was promptly validated before the entire class after winning these quizzes and I imagined how easy it would be for a younger, less developed mind to be sucked in by this whole process.
Some of the students, however, weren’t of the understanding that this was a class of ruthless dogma and made the mistake of asking the aboriginal studies teacher for references or historical context.
This resulted in threats of expulsion. “Given the sensitivity of the subject matter and the trauma experienced by so many families,” said the little blonde woman, “those questions could be considered very offensive and perhaps this class isn’t for you”.
The first assignment to be completed was an essay on “intergenerational trauma”, which is a term describing a theory that aboriginal people existing now have genetically inherited trauma experienced by their ancestors. The expectation of the student is to accept this theory as incontrovertible fact and write an essay about it.
But after about five weeks I started getting a few strange looks from some of the students. The teachers on one particular day had been throwing peculiar glances at me far too often, like I was a rare zoo animal impossible to ignore.
It was obvious they’d finally figured out that I was not just that guy who sat quietly at the back of the room, but a notorious political dissident of the very dangerous variety.
On that day the other students were visibly anxious and the teachers suddenly began to act like criminals trying to hide something.
The course leader intercepted me before returning to class after lunch break and demanded to know my reasons for enrolling in the course. Was I making a report? Had I been gathering information for “the far-right”? It didn’t seem possible to him that I had enrolled in the course as anything but an infiltrator of some sort.
After explaining that I was only interested in psychology, he insisted that his course wasn’t for me and encouraged me to withdraw. It was obvious that he was worried about the entire course being cancelled if I refused. He spoke of students and teachers “feeling unsafe” by having me in the classroom.
I wasn’t that eager to sit through much more of what I’d already endured so I withdrew without a fuss, received a refund many months later and gave up on the idea of going to any sort of school in modern day Australia.
But what I had seen and experienced in those five weeks is the reason why I’m telling this story.
Each year on Australia Day, the nation is witness to violence and extreme ideological divisions at “invasion day” protests.
But these “invasion day” demonstrators haven’t just come out of nowhere – they are trained and produced by government schools.
It begins very early, even in kindergarten special “aboriginal ceremonies” are performed with music and dancing to prime young minds for the dogma they’re exposed to later, in primary and high school.
The conditioning actually intensifies in higher education institutions, producing radical activists ready to target and attack their own countrymen as revenge for perceived injustices.
This is a ruthless conspiracy never explored by any media agency for obvious reasons.
Millions of Australians (children in particular) are brainwashed and radicalised every day by the state education curriculum and the activists employed within.
The only silver lining is the propaganda has become so abrasive in its presentation and so extremely obvious, young men have been able to identify and reject it, and have moved in the complete opposite direction, driving a new interest in Australian nationalism. This nationalism has become so popular the government just changed the laws to essentially make its political expression illegal on the grounds of “stopping hate”.
But the real hate is propagated relentlessly by government propaganda factories we still call “schools”.
The result of this propaganda which now penetrates every aspect of Australian life is a nation divided against itself, a convenient place for the Australian citizenry to remain while the country is invaded, chopped up and sold to foreign investors.
Blair Cottrell is a political commentator and fitness coach. You can find him on Telegram.
Header image: Protesters with anti-Australian signs and clothing at the “invasion day” rally in Sydney on Monday (supplied).
