Fred Nile

There’s a host of great articles about Fred Nile swanning around the internet at the moment. Many of these are witty, erudite, informative and relevant. I felt like I needed to contribute some kind of honking, goose-like piece to balance the spectrum.


In these confusing times, it’s often helpful to think of government as the cast from the hit Christian television show, 7th Heaven. This is because Fred Nile is already officially the Father of the House in the House of Representatives and because he truly does think he is that patronising, dead-eyed father from 7th Heaven, doling out unwanted advice to his terrified children. But instead of the feel-good plotlines about less-hot daughter trying her darndest to help a rambunctious African-American basketballer find Jesus, we have Father Nile taking Bob Brown to electro-shock therapy and counselling Julia Gillard about her living in sin issues.

This of course hinges on the premise that you are vaguely familiar with Australian politics AND the television show 7th Heaven. If you aren’t, you’re a lucky person and should immediately flee to some kind of Mexican desert and be absolutely blissful in your ignorance. Also, he has wizard eyebrows.

The world of men shall fall. Because that sounds really gay.


Throughout life we choose our insanities. Some people call them hobbies, others pastimes, some people have beliefs and others have faith. The wonderful thing about all this is that people come together, drawn by the same dangerous behaviour and celebrate it together. For me and my friends it revolves around our sick fascination with the written word. For Fred Nile it was his far-out superstitious belief in the bearded sky man who made us all (TM). Yet, it came to a point where a large group of other bearded sky-man devotees decided his views were too strange. Largely this issue centred around his insistence on taking a book of compiled oral myths, histories and symbols completely – and un-ironically – literally.

For some reason, we still allow this man to represent portions of us via democratic means. I’d like to see how seriously I’d be taken if I was a Tolkien literalist. If I sashayed through parliament speaking Quenyan Elven at Kevin Rudd, and shooting arrows at Bronwyn Bishop. Is it because the Bible is older than Lord of the Rings? Whatever, I know what I prefer, and I know which has a clearer ethical arc. That’s shit that you can believe in, throw the damn ring in the volcano.

The tragedy is that so vehement and virulent is Fred Nile’s literalist belief in a world of women turning into salt pillars, and whores who wash hippie’s feet for free, that a strange phenomenon occurs.


This phenomenon is called Nileism, where people who may have held on to some belief of their own, usually ancillary or oppositional to Fred Nile’s, will be so distraught and distressed by coming into contact with Father Fred, that they will cease to believe in anything at all. It’s like a missionary travelling to an island and preaching a complete lack of conversion, a negative, a void. Things they might have once held up as truths were now devalued by a man who honestly believed an ancient Jewish dude could turn water into wine. (IF THERE IS ANY HINT OF THIS OCCURRING, I AM SIGNING UP TO THE CRAZY BRIGADE).



Love, Patrick.


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