‘I’m dreaming of a wite Christmas’ wrote Irving Berlin, invoking an American ideal. ‘Wite’ is a beautiful word, euphonic and expressive. Yes, you read it right, wite. It’s the new spelling adopted by the League of Wite Loyalists (LWL), of which I am the founder and hitherto only member.

But why drop the ‘h’? Well, we felt we couldn’t do better than emulate Naidoc Week with its novel spelling ‘Blak’ (though why anyone should object to the letter ‘c’ is a mystery). Perhaps Blak is a simplified word to avoid challenging the level of spelling ability Australian schools have been inculcating in recent years.

If you, reader, are, in the traditional spelling, ‘white’, or a ‘person of whiteness’ as the DEI industry would put it, you might be sick of being told how ‘toxic’ you are. You might be tired of being lectured on your ‘privilege’ and how you aspire to ‘supremacy’. You might be fed up with having your whiteness – which you’ve never given much thought to – likened to a plague polluting the earth, all the more so if your real nature is humble, amiable and unassuming.

Well, I have good news for you. Persons of whiteness are going to reassert themselves through my new league. Wite victimhood too frequently goes unrecognised. How often is it reported that wites in Australia go to prison in far greater numbers than people of other colours simply because there are so many more of them?

Most antipathy to wites comes from wites themselves, especially the Anglo-descended ‘anti-racist’ misanthropes extruded by academic mills who claim to speak for Aborigines. It is they, or more accurately their puppet-masters in institutions of what was once scholarship, who have dreamt up the heresy of ‘critical race theory’ by which you stand condemned. Then there are people like perpetually aggrieved Senator Mehreen Faruqi, veteran windbag Marcia Langton and ‘Invasion Day’ agitator (agitatrix?) Tarneen Onus-Williams, who wants to see our land ‘burned to the ground’.

(Australia may be, as Dorothea Mackellar wrote, a ‘sunburnt country’ but I doubt she meant a scorched-earth wasteland.)

Don’t be surprised if you haven’t heard about LWL. The mainstream media would never publicise it. The ABC would damn it as ‘genocidal’, ‘hateful’, even ‘Trumpian’.  But times will change.

History and fashion move in cycles and we at the LWL, or should I say I, calculate that, with the impetus the Trump presidency is giving to the pushback against wokery, the current fashion for ‘celebrating’ all things Blak will sooner rather than later run its course and witeness will become something to be proud of again. When that happens Blak exceptionalism will lurch to a stop like an EV that can’t find a charging station. Already the first of the post-war West’s cycles of identity-wallowing, feminism, is nearing the end of its run, collapsing under the assault of transmania. That too will eventually fade away.

The LWL is planning a Festival of Witeness to coincide with Naidoc Week next week. And having followed Naidoc’s commitment to distinctive spelling, the LWL wants a slogan too, though something a bit snappier than Naidoc’s ‘The Next Generation: Strength, Vision & Legacy’, which doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue. ‘Wite Lives Matter’ is too obvious but someone has suggested ‘Is Wite. Is Good’, modelled on the ads for a popular brand of smallgoods, whose grammatical formulation has the advantage of including the speech habits of non-Anglo wites of the post-war migration era in our national reservoir of witeness.

What can we expect in the Festival program? This will be in the hands of Troy Brawnford, in private life a wood-chopper in the Victorian high country, who I have appointed festival director. He’ll be joined by a ‘Miss Witeness’ yet to be named, the appointment process having been delayed by applications from several artificial ‘women’.

One of Troy’s ideas is a travelling ‘palace of inventions’ to showcase ‘all the things wites have created for a better world’, from painless dentistry to football to AI.’ Troy is particularly critical of ‘non-wite stirrers’ – ‘I won’t name names’ – who ‘culturally appropriate unceded wite-developed technology like television and social media to spruik their “voices” and land claims without even saying thank you.’

Troy intends to stage re-enactments of ‘colonisers’ stepping ashore to establish wite settlement in Australia. These events, to the recorded strains of ‘Bound for Botany Bay’, will be held in the Melbourne Cricket Ground and other capital city sports stadiums flooded with water for the occasion, as the Romans used to do for their naval ‘battles’ in the Colosseum. Eighteenth-century vessels are scarce now, but there are plans to hire Sydney ferries as the ‘settler ships’. An ‘acknowledgment’ of the First Fleet, to be recited by the audience, will open each re-enactment.

‘Wite relatives’ is another idea. These, Troy explains, will be people LWL wishes to honour in the wite community, the kind of eminent elders that Aborigines call Aunties and Uncles. ‘We’re calling them Grandpas and Nannas, past, present, emerging and yet undreamt of.’

As a service to the public the festival will offer a free genealogy unit where the sort of wite Australians who hitherto have been trying to establish their Aboriginal ancestry will have the opportunity to move with the times and reinvent their identities to reclaim their wite descent. ‘Once they all wanted to find a convict ancestor,’ says Troy. ‘Then it was black. We reckon that witeness is ready for a comeback.’