RACIST BITCHES
Since the world’s richest racist, fraudster, fascist, liar, mysoginist, genocide-apologist and pedo-enabler, Elon Musk, took over Twitter, there’s been a growing normalisation of openly anti-Muslim rhetoric on the platform. It’s been driven predominantly by politicians, journalists, and public figures whose influence extends beyond the platform. Commentary from these subhumans quickly shapes the tone among ordinary users, creating a cycle where hostility becomes mainstream and misinformation is accepted as common sense.
Complex social and political issues are reduced to simple narratives that assign blame to a single group. Muslims aren’t framed as individuals with varied beliefs and experiences, but rather as a collective problem associated with crime, extremism, cultural incompatibility or demographic threat. These claims are often presented with confidence rather than evidence. Statistics are cherry-picked or misunderstood, isolated incidents are elevated into supposed trends, and events overseas are used to cast suspicion on entire communities at home. Accuracy becomes secondary to emotional impact. We witnessed a prime example of this in the early days after October 7, when claims of mass rape, beheaded babies, burned babies, and babies ripped from wombs spread like wildfire on social media, only to be walked back or debunked. Biden even lied about seeing images of the abuse.
Twitter’s design encourages this behaviour. Short, confrontational statements spread more widely than thoughtful explanations. Anger drives engagement, which increases visibility. Misleading or inflammatory claims can circulate rapidly, while corrections often go unnoticed. By the time factual context is provided, the narrative has already taken hold. Repetition reinforces these claims, making them appear credible through familiarity, especially when echoed by prominent commentators and political figures.
Public figures play a central role in this shift. When elected officials or prominent journalists use sweeping generalisations, they legitimise language that was once recognised as discriminatory. Minns, Hanson, Taylor, Morrison, Abbott, Roberts, Hastie, Littleproud, McKormack, Markson, Fordham, and every single living, breathing entity at Newscorp Australia from Murdoch through to the interns. Hostility is reframed as honesty, and prejudice is presented as courage. Criticism of specific policies or actions blurs into suspicion of entire religions or ethnic groups. The line between analysing ideas and targeting people disappears, making escalation inevitable.
Ordinary users follow these cues. When public figures speak this way without consequence, others feel justified in going further. The tone becomes harsher. Mockery escalates to abuse, which becomes normalised through repetition. The platform’s separation from real-world interaction removes many social restraints, making dehumanising language routine online, even when it would be unacceptable in person.
Much of the rhetoric in these spaces is not only aggressive but also uninformed. Islam is depicted as a monolithic force, rather than a diverse set of beliefs and cultural practices across continents and political systems. Political conflicts are reduced to civilizational narratives that ignore history and complexity. False claims persist long after being disproven because they serve political or emotional purposes. The goal is reinforcement, not understanding, strengthening existing fears and resentments rather than challenging them.
I’m not saying religion or ideology should be immune from criticism. Open societies rely on the ability to question beliefs, institutions, and political movements. The problem arises when criticism shifts from ideas to targeting people as a group, making identity itself grounds for suspicion. This change replaces argument with prejudice and turns public conversation into a contest of hostility.
Twitter didn’t create anti-Muslim sentiment, but it certainly has become one of its most efficient amplifiers. When influential voices prioritise attention over accuracy, the effects spread far beyond the platform. Everyday users are drawn into a narrative that encourages division while presenting itself as realism. Over time, repeated exposure makes extreme language feel ordinary, and ordinary language begins to sound extreme by comparison.
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