MILO - LIVE IN MELBOURNE: A REPORT FOR ALTERNATIVE RIGHT

by Richard Wolstencroft

The date was December 4th, 2017. Milo Yiannopoulis rode into my home town of Melbourne on his Sedan chair to bring a little mainstream Alt Right mischief Down Under to the plebs and the normies. As one of Melbourne's top "Alt Righters" and head of the Alt Right field office in the Antipodies, naturally I had to pop along to see this wonderful circus.

I contacted Max Markson, the Jewish agent and tour manager of Milo's tour, having been unable to sort out tickets on a totally sold out tour. He was kind enough to grant me a VIP "meet and greet" ticket, and a chance of an interview with the great man if time permitted.

But first a little recent history.

I had just survived an SJW savaging of epic proportions over a comment I had made apropos the Australian "same-sex marriage" vote. David Cole, proved himself a true mensch by writing this defence of me for Taki's Magazine, that was the number one article on Taki's site for a week, and that itself also went viral Down Under, changing perceptions and making many of my attackers look like the assholes they were. His piece explains what happened, but you can google around for more. Anyway I was reeling from all that bullshit. So, it was a very hectic time.

Max Markson tried hard to set up an interview with Milo for me, but his Melbourne schedule proved to be too tight. So be it! Another time. But back to the show. Once Max sent me the secret venue info on the morning of the event—a Wedding Reception event space in Kensington no less—I made my preparations to hear the most vocal mouthpiece of the Alt Right live and in person.

Some qualifications: Milo does not consider himself "Alt Right, but I am sure he would admit he has an Alt Right flavour. There have been terms like "Alt Lite" and such coined, which could describe him. But he himself does not like labels (neither do I actually) and claims he is mostly happy when both sides of politics find him a bit annoying and a bit interesting. And I think he's being truthful here. Milo is the old Groucho Marx joke made Alt Right: he would not be a member of any club that would have someone as reprehensible as him as a member.

I have always been a Milo fan. He was one of the first ways I heard of the Alt Right. I have since advocated accepting and supporting him among the Alt Lite/Alt Right "International" and community.

Certainly, he is a rebel and a controversial figure, and does and says a few things many in our community may not always support or like. But, come on! Milo is the gateway drug to the Alt Lite and Alt Right. He is often the one person, outside of Donald Trump or Steve Bannon, who gets people interested in the New Right paradigm of politics. I think for that reason alone, we must give him a long leash and provide support for him where we can.

As such an outlier—and a media friendly one to boot—he can provide the movement with many new recruits, members, and supporters. One can "poo poo" Milo a bit on a few of the comments he has made, sure. Or one can express concerns about his sexual lifestyle. As for me, I could not give a shit. He's clearly an ally, so "don't punch Right" and don't attack other allies, as some in the Alt-Right have foolishly been doing with regard to the beautiful female Alt Righters in the recent "tradthot" controversy.

Anyway, that's where I stand and going to see Milo's gig in Melbourne was my way of showing it.

I knew that the antifa loser Left was going to attack the event. So there was the issue of personal safety. I parked my car about five blocks from the venue, in a fast food restaurant's car park, so that it would look like it had no connection to the event. I placed my trusty, slightly-smaller-than-fist-sized iron bar that I keep in my car in my pocket. A security guy had given this to me during my time running nightclubs. In a fight, it's simple—you slip this into your fist, and suddenly your punches become Superman-esque. You can chuck it away later, after a fight, before the authorities arrive, if you have to.

I brought it only in case someone attacked me, and purely for self defence, as I find violence in general rude, beneath me, and totally unseemly.

I also hate all forms of public protest, even if they are Right-wing ones. I have never attended a single protest for the Left or the Right, besides seeing some pass me by on the street. As an elitist, I detest the whole phenomenon of public protests. But, this time, I realised that coming and going from this Milo event might involve me in to one, and it might get a bit rowdy, so I came prepared to knock any attacker into next week, if needed. I also mentally revised a few of the basic moves a Maori security guy at my Sydney Night Club ventures had taught me some years ago.

Expecting the best but prepared for the worst, I rocked up early, as I wanted to see the spectacle from beginning to end. I walked on down the Racecourse Road, next to the Kensington Housing Commission Projects, now mostly full of unemployed immigrants, and arrived at 5pm at the junction of Stubbs Road and Racecourse Road, the venue for the night's event, Melbourne Pavilion.

The gig was set to start at 7pm, so I was well early. Most people had only been informed of the venue at 4pm, including idiotic Left-wing protesters. So they had yet to mobilise, as, let's admit it, they are a bit slow.

Max Markson, the man on the inside of the tour, had given me the venue info earlier that morning, and I let a few old pals of mine know the inside scoop, and that was that. So, arriving at 5pm was no problem. No protesters at all...yet, which was nice. Just a large swath of police, our wonderful Thin Blue Line against the expected Left-wing scum.

As I approached, they were wondering if I was a Milo protester or supporter. By now a tiny group of non Milo fans had began to cluster opposite the main front entrance. I whipped out my Trump MAGA hat. As I approached them, I saluted the Boys in Blue, gave them a conspiratorial wink. They parted like the Red Sea to let me take a front-of-the-line position with a few pals already there to enter the Milo Yiannoupoulis event.

All tickets for this event had sold out weeks ago, and even the second session at 10pm had sold out recently. But Max Markson, my man on the inside had sorted me out. I texted him, and out he popped to slip a VIP lanyard into my hand. He also apologised about not being able to organise an interview, and assured me that Milo was safe inside and ready for the gig. I thanked him and he popped back inside to continue running the show.

Some other friends soon turned up—I will call them FD and SM as they both have normal jobs and I don't want any antifa assholes using this info against them. Both FD, an advertising executive and a local Jewish Alt Liter, and SM, a similar type but with Italian ancestry, turned up and we began discussing Milo and the event. Some media were there, and we all got photographed a few times. FD made a few amusing statements to them.

There were some antifa assholes there, photographing the event. They later used these photos in a 1984-style tactic, posting the mugs of everyone who attended the event—well, the first 100 or so that they photographed—on a site to shame and name, etc. Terrible, dull, and totally totalitarian. They also tried to get people to say things they could use against them. I took their photo—this is what they look like.

Eventually at around six, the organisers began to let the now large line to enter the venue. At the exact same time a large group of New Left scumbag protesters arrived, all unemployed, smelly, and badly dressed. I was inside before getting much of a look at them, but they seemed like typical Left-wing protester types.

Once inside it was a different experience altogether. Classy, well laid out, and air conditioned. The 7pm audience got a free copy of Milo's book—so I snapped that one up, as I had yet to find an Australian book store brave enough to stock one. I was one of the first people inside, so I cased the joint for quick exits and cover, just in case this place turned out to be the next Bataclan.

After a quick look around, I was greeted on the way in by one of Melbourne's top Security gentlemen, who I knew from my club days. This guy is—how shall we say?—a very serious bloke, so I knew the event was in safe hands and we would have no problems. We shook hands, chatted, caught up, and discussed some good old mutual friends. I moved on, relieved to secure good seats. FD and SM, my pals from outside, soon joined me on the choice seats I had staked out, with some other good friends. We all had a good old laugh and chin wag.

Chris Mitchell was there. He's a club promoter, and likes to be controversial like me. He's a bit like the 30-year-old version of me and also a filmmaker. He likes edgy politics and does not care who knows it. So, we caught up and shook hands and had a good laugh about the stupidity of it all.

Then we took our seats. Soon it was time for Milo himself to ascend to the stage. He came out to a musical fanfare and rapturous applause, dressed as Arnie from Terminator. I've looked at the photos from his other shows, and it seems he dresses differently at each one, always stylishly and always differently, in typical gay fashion.

Well, what was his show like, then? Was it a rallying cry and call to arms for the New Right politics with an Alt Right edge?

Yes, in some ways it was, and he was red pilling the whole place—police, security, and bar staff included, all of whom applauded at the end of the show, with a certain rapture that was very old school.

But he also reminded me of our own Barry Humphries, reborn as a blond, Greek, thirty-something Florida-based gay man. He really had Humphries' wry wit and turn of phrase. It should also be remembered that Humphries himself was often described, like Milo, as a crypto fascist.

Milo gave his opening, rallying address, which included various tangents on this and that. For example, he launched into an attack on Clementine Ford, a Cultural Marxist feminist ogre from these parts fairly early. She has been haunting the airwaves of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) and the pages of the left wing press, spreading her tired misandry and hatred for Western Civilisation, Western Man, and European achievements. She had irked Milo no end with her rhetoric, and he laid into her mercilessly, calling her 'unfuckable.'

She is exactly that, especially recently, as she has piled on the pounds and stopped caring about how she looks. Milo was sending her up in various ways. This was all met with belly laughs, guffaws, and sustained applause from all, including staff and constabulary.

Next, he laid into the ABC for its blatant bias and an unending cavalcade of "unfuckable feminist loser commentators" (his words not mine), interspersed with some beta male wimps and cucks, who do their bidding, mixed with the odd "diversity hire" to kid people that they open to ethnics. They are not.  These women that run these shows on the ABC are mostly all-white. It's a sickening display of anti-White rhetoric from fat, White women and their toadies. Milo tore them all a well-deserved new asshole, and his critique was spot on and Barry-Humphries-level funny.

How political was Milo's show?

Milo is fairly political, and his anti-PC message and opposition to Islam in the West comes across strongly. It serves as a good primer for standing up to these people and their "Open Borders" politics. But the main thing I got from his show is how funny, witty, arch, self deprecating, and actually damn charming he is. He had everyone in stitches most of the time, like a professional comedian. Why anyone would protest this is beyond me. There were the usual political bon mots on feminism, SJW twits, and various other standard fare from the Milo arsenal. But also his haranguing of local feminists and politicians was of epic proportions, showing that he had clearly done his research on the local scene.

Watch this video here of Milo totally taking down this 'moderate' Muslim women—it's hilarious and completely spot on. It was a highlight of his Down Under tour.

After the show, following a short tap dancing routine from an excited Max Markson upstairs, I met Milo and handed him some MUFF catalogues and said I was the Alt Right Man Down Under. He shook my hand warmly. We met, chatted briefly, and took a photo. He had a whole pile of people to meet and greet, so it was left at that.

Overall, it was a fun show of about 70 minutes and he had another one to do at the same venue that same evening.

Milo occupies an interesting place between the Alt Right and Alt Lite on the one hand and liberal Libertarian politics on the other. It's always been my belief that we should view the positives of someone in his position, serving as a bridge between various dissident Right-wing groups. So, let's cut the guy a bit of slack.

The "Fight Club" that was taking place outside the venue, meanwhile, was a pure Globalist Media fiasco. Inside the venue everything was peaceful and festive. Outside, the Soros-backed antifa battled it out with a few from the 1488 Neo-Nazi crowd, something that predictably ended up splashed all over the front pages of the Australian media the following day. But that was all entirely manufactured by the Left—complete fake news.

This outside media circus is how the Alt Right and its opponents are presented. But it is what was happening inside that should really worry the Left—a fun, populist Right-wing revolution and revolt was underway. I know which one of these two phenomenon is ultimately going to have the more lasting effect and change the course of history this century.