What could a trendy, tattooed, godless leftie in the hippest bit of Melbourne possibly have in common with an Isis-admiring Muslim who thinks it wouldn’t be all that bad if Melbourne went up in flames? Humourlessness. An urge to burn anything irreverent that irritates him.
These two constituencies might look and sound different — one says women should wear what they want, the other wants women in black sacks; one gets stoned with gays, the other wants to stone gays — but they share a deep distaste for offensive ideas.
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