You’ve possibly heard of a ghastly woman called Patrisse Cullors. Her chief claim to fame is that she founded that mutual support society for inverted racists, Black Lives Matter.

Her malign influence now stretches across the Western world. But whatever you say against Patrisse, you have to admire her job creation skills for the disadvantaged. She finds positions for them in attractive and congenial surroundings – namely the four sumptuous mansions she has managed to acquire in recent years. Big houses need staff, so there’s plenty of work for servants and slushies, keeping her opulent toilets sparkling – oops, I almost said white – cooking and serving her vegan meals, ironing her morning copy of the New York Times, polishing her pearl-handled flame-thrower – all the domestic duties required in a grand household, a latter-day Pemberley, as in Pride and Prejudice – the pride being the gay sort (Patrisse is an LGBTQ etc. zealot in her spare time) and the prejudice racial, source of her riches.

Still, you can’t begrudge Patrisse her success. It’s not everyone who has the personality to set the town on fire – quite literally, all last year, when her crazed admirers torched US cities, as they will do again, once Biden and his Patrisse-dazzled Democrats start losing the next elections.

For some reason Patrisse has made sure her various homes are not surrounded by the black lives that matter to her so much. The neighbours are monochrome white. Any members of the darker race to be encountered in the neighbourhood’s grand houses will have come in through the staff entrance.

Some nasty people, dismissed by Patrisse as right-wing troublemakers, have alleged that Patrisse was only able to buy these expensive residences because she was secretly abstracting considerable sums of Black Lives Matter funds. Nothing could be further from the truth, declared an outraged official of the Black Lives Matter Global Foundation (yes, that’s what it is now called. There’s big money in sowing race hatred). Why, they’d only paid her the pittance of US$120,000 since 2013. If that’s true Patrisse is wasted in the protest industry. She should be an adviser on how thrifty investment can yield millions.

Patrisse floated into my mind in connection with the people’s republic of Victoria, not because we need her here – God forbid – but because I read on Wikipedia that she has a ‘wife’, an equally unpleasant misanthrope from Canada called Janaya Khan, manageress of Black Lives Matter’s Toronto branch. It’s not the ‘wife’ herself that need concern us here as the terminology. Because by virtue of a recent decree from our Beijing-inspired leader ‘Dan-Xi’ Andrews, ‘wife’ is now a forbidden term in Victoria, as is ‘husband’, or at least they are in the public service, where every idiocy conjured up by the endlessly evolving obsessions of identity politics is instantly adopted.

Dan-Xi comes across as a bit of a dropkick, but he’s smart enough to be au fait not just with linguistic cancellations but with all the latest dispositions of contemporary wokery, not least in his attitude to Black Lives Matter. You may remember that, just as the Chinese virus was gathering pace and he was telling everyone they were not to assemble in public, he allowed Patrisse’s local groupies to do just that and crowd the streets with their unsavoury persons. Police didn’t lift a finger to stop them as they filled the air of the world’s most ‘liveable city’ (or what was until Dan-Xi came along) with their chants of confused concern about the wickedness of whites who, in their imagination, still enslave African-Americans. Having no African-Americans in Melbourne to point to as objects of oppression, the ersatz BLM wannabes instead focussed on Aborigines, who, though they have never known slavery, were nevertheless conscripted as substitute victims by these historically illiterate adolescents bent on connecting Australia with the social pathologies arising from the quite different domestic circumstances of the United States.

We haven’t heard much from Patrisse’s Australian franchisees lately, and I was wondering whether, if she and Janaya decided to zip across the Pacific in the private Gulfstream and rally the local forces to get out and burn something down to show they’re still in business, how would Patrisse’s ‘wife’ – and that’s the word Patrisse uses – be received by Dan-Xi. Would he order his politburo to welcome Mrs Cullors with all the honours of state, as the wife of any other prominent world personage? Or would she be downgraded to the status of ‘spouse’ or, even less specific, ‘partner’, in line with the lexical canons of the Victorian public service? – the term ‘partner’ making it sound as though she and Patrisse were a firm of outer suburban tax agents, Cullors & Khan.

You wonder. And there’s another possible bone of contention. Dan-Xi, like all dictators, has no scruples about prison for those he thinks deserve it. These now include in Victoria anyone convicted of ‘intentionally and recklessly’ breaching ‘public health orders’ issued as part of Dan-Xi’s spectacularly successful crusade against the Wuhan virus, a crusade which has delivered the sterling result of Victoria recording only 52 per cent of all pandemic deaths in Australia, more than all other states put together. Offenders – will the unvaccinated be among them? – could get up to two years. But Patrisse is a keen campaigner for the abolition of prisons. Will she point out to Dan-Xi the errors of his penal policy? Will she order her local followers to bus themselves down to HM Barwon and set it ablaze? Who knows? But there’ll certainly be much to chat about if she does come here to galvanise her troops and Dan-Xi invites her to the Forbidden Palace in Spring Street for a glass of home-made rice wine.

Prisons apart, they should get along like a house – or as Patrisse would no doubt put it, a looted shop on fire. Both have an interest in shutting down small businesses, Patrisse through street mobs, Dan-Xi with lockdowns. This is because small business operators are often independent-minded hard workers who are utterly out of sympathy with the kind of grievance-spouting drones Patrisse attracts or the overpaid statist parasites who infest the corridors of power under the Andrews regime.

All or most of whom are white. Which invites the question of whether white lives matter too. Officially Patrisse doesn’t think so, but would she not have to admit on reflection that, sure, some white lives do matter, those of the useful radical idiots whose credulous adherence to the nonsensical hatred she preaches brings in the bucks? Don’t they matter to her most of all?