Friday. Must everything be 12 again?
A few months ago, the musician Patrick Cosmos shared a “new unified theory of American reality” that he called “everyone is twelve now”—an attempt to explain an executive branch that endorses AI-generated videos of the president dropping poop on protesters from a shiny jet, and that replies to official press queries with the words your mom. Everyone is 12 is a strikingly effective summary of contemporary politics, but it also helps us understand why a good amount of popular culture feels as brain-numbingly dense as it currently does. Why is Nicki Minaj throwing insults at one of Cardi B’s children and generating images of her as the purple dinosaur Barney? Everyone is 12. Why is Kim Kardashian the star of a fur-swaddled drama about Bentley-driving divorce lawyers with seven-figure clothing budgets? Everyone is 12. Why has Emerald Fennell adapted one of the more chasmic and ambitious tragedies in English literature into a poppy, gooey, thuddingly literal work of sexy fan fiction? Everyone is … you get it.
Yes, the pond gets it, and it's actually an old Cosmos meme, having emerged last September, (Cosmos by name, Cosmos theory by nature), but thank you Sophie Gilbert in The Atlantic, Why the Wuthering Heights Movie Is Infantilizing
If you want her opinion on the movie, follow the link. This is a clue ...
In some ways, that Fennell’s Wuthering Heights is this vacuous and one-dimensional feels like progress. Male directors get to make big, unserious epics all the time. (“How many times have you watched Top Gun: Maverick?” I asked my husband last night. “This month?” he replied.) Fennell, whose film made $83 million at the global box office during opening weekend, is at least proving, with sticky aplomb, how starved we as a culture are for romance. Margot Robbie, the movie’s co-star and one of its producers, has shrugged off mixed reviews; she told Vogue Australia, “I believe you should make movies for the people who are going to buy tickets to see the movies. It’s as simple as that. I love working with Emerald because she always prioritizes an emotional experience over a heady idea.” In other words, Wuthering Heights is simply giving the people what they want. And the people are 12.
The pond had thought the audience was supposed to be 14, but on second thoughts, being about 12 to read the reptiles in the lizard Oz (or watch the movie) seems about right ...
There's a remarkable amount of infantilizing going on this day, so thumbs at the ready, for the sucking thereof ...
Whenever Friday rocks around and Our Henry rolls around, the pond reverts to being 12 again.
Memories flood back, as the well-named Mr Battle instructs the class to get out their Bembricks so that we can manage to understand the pleasures of Caesar's Gallic Wars in the original Latin. Or perhaps a little later some Ovid, evoking romantic love.
The header: Can the Liberals survive the big squeeze? The history of major parties shows that, while they rarely disappear, fighting a war on two fronts can leave them too strong to die, but not strong enough to thrive.
The caption for one of those dire Emilia collages. Will she never learn to blame AI?: Angus Taylor, Pauline Hanson, Barnaby Joyce, Anthony Albanese and Jim Chalmers. Artwork by Emilia Tortorella
How the pond had hungered for a dash of Thucydides, or at a pinch Apuleis's Asinus Aureus, or at least the sort of contest of ideas promised in recent lizard Oz advertising ...
Mmm, that's a disturbingly bearded, ethnic figure in that ad - as if the reptiles wanted to pose as the way ahead for 12 year olds wanting to explore the world by using a phone - but never mind, on with the pond's bitter disappointment.
The contest of ideas reduced to yet another contemplate of the beefy boofhead from down Goulburn way, never the sharpest set of blades in the shearing shed:
That is not to suggest imminent collapse. As Alan Ware demonstrated in his The Dynamics of Two-Party Politics (2009), it is rare in two-party systems for once-dominant major parties simply to disappear.
But while major parties seldom die, they can, like old soldiers, fade away – gradually forfeiting the organisational cohesion and electoral reach required to function as an effective opposition, let alone as a credible alternative to an entrenched governing party.
If the history of democratic politics teaches anything, it is that the danger peaks when three conditions coincide: a party’s core constituencies are threatened from both flanks of the left/right divide, making it hard to protect one flank without aggravating losses to the other; political conflict centres on high-profile issues that cut across its own ranks and cannot be indefinitely fudged; and social and demographic change erodes the electoral foundations on which it once relied.
That pattern was evident in the disintegration of the American Whigs, torn apart by slavery in 1856. It reappeared in the marginalisation of the British Liberal Party after the First World War. The Liberals had been the beating heart of Victorian politics; by the early 1930s, they were a spent force.
The pond does appreciate that the hole in bucket man was trying with those historical references, but the reptiles had to ruin the moment by dragging in Nigel, busy making plans ... Reform UK leader Nigel Farage speaking during the weekly session of Prime Minister's Questions in the House of Commons in London. Picture: AFP
Talk about ways of chilling any notion of a contest of ideas.
Luckily Our Henry didn't immediately revert to populist demagoguery, he stayed with 20th century history ...
Electoral reform accelerated the decline. The Representation of the People Act 1918 and the Equal Franchise Act 1928 transformed the electorate, enlarging the working-class vote and enfranchising women (who by 1929 formed an electoral majority), with neither group having natural Liberal attachments.
Boundary redistribution magnified the impact, eliminating smaller county seats that were predominantly Liberal while multiplying the industrial constituencies that became Labour strongholds and the suburban constituencies that underpinned a resurgent Conservatism.
The consequence was not merely electoral setback but organisational fracture: rival leaderships and searing divisions that could be patched over but never resolved. That fragmentation emboldened the challengers on both flanks, reinforcing a vicious cycle of mutual recriminations, internal discord and electoral decline. The 1924 election, in Labour minister Sidney Webb’s phrase, marked “the funeral of a great party”; by 1929, any prospect of resurrection had evaporated.
The pond gamely hung in, but the reptiles kept on flinging in very distracting snaps of posing geese, One Nation SA leader Cory Bernardi, One Nation leader Senator Pauline Hanson and Barnaby Joyce doing a tv cross at the One Nation SA’s official campaign South Australian election launch. Picture: Kelly Barnes
The pond always has a conniption when Tamworth's ineradicable, eternal shame is always flung into the mix. It even sweeps away memories of Cory showing off his muscles.
Choose the nightmare you'd prefer, it's Boeuf either way ...
Our Henry didn't help matters by shifting to contemplating the Canucks.
How they're hurting, what with ice hockey being their religion, ruined by a MAGA clown party, dancing away the night with Keystone Kash, but Our Henry didn't care and ploughed on regardless:
The coalition splintered, spawning two effective rivals: the Reform Party on the right in the west and the left-leaning sovereigntist Bloc Québécois in Quebec. Caught between them, the Progressive Conservatives were annihilated in 1993, collapsing from 156 seats to two.
But neither in the UK nor in Canada were these outcomes preordained. Parties fail or succeed not only because of the structural forces they face, but because of how they respond.
Thus, before 1914 it was entirely plausible that the Conservatives – not the Liberals – would fracture on Britain’s centre-right. They appeared close to disintegration, divided between “diehards” and pragmatists, traditionalists and advocates of adaptation. Without the political genius of Stanley Baldwin, the outcome might well have been different.
Baldwin did more than restore discipline. He strengthened the party’s organisation, rebuilt its supporting networks and decisively curbed the “diehardism” of the Edwardian and post-Edwardian years. In its place he articulated a “New Conservatism” aimed at “the binding together of all classes of our people in an effort to make life in this country better in every sense of the word”.
He therefore repositioned the party to appeal to the suburban middle class and the aspirational working class, aligning rhetoric and policy – including sweeping social reforms – with that broadened base.
The Liberals, by contrast, remained mired in internal conflict. Personal animosities and strategic divergences paralysed the party’s machinery and squandered its intellectual advantages. A movement rich in ideas proved incapable of converting insight into votes.
Leadership proved equally decisive in Canada, where the Reform Party absorbed the remnants of the Progressive Conservatives and reconstituted itself as the Conservative Party. Its leader, Stephen Harper, built a disciplined, highly centralised electoral apparatus, replacing Canada’s long tradition of regional brokerage – which had contributed to the previous collapse – with coalitions formed by micro-targeting key constituencies.
Sheesh, couldn't the hole in bucket man at least have referenced Caesar overthrowing the Republic by way of civil war?
Must the pond endure yet another populist sighting? Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni attends a ceremony marking 97th anniversary of Lateran Pact with Vatican, on February 17, 2026. Picture: AFP
Sheesh, what next? A treatise on the perils of being Pauline?
Executing that dual movement is exceptionally difficult. Without strategic clarity Harper could not have succeeded. And that same clarity is evident in the other movements that have travelled from the right’s fringes to the centre of power.
Giorgia Meloni’s Fratelli d’Italia and Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National are cases in point. Both Meloni and Le Pen were determined to be more than rabble rousers. Much as Nigel Farage is trying to do in the UK, each spent years normalising and institutionalising her party – subduing internal “diehards”, consolidating leadership authority and methodically expanding and professionalising grassroots organisation. That allowed them to compete effectively with the previously dominant centre-right parties they then squeezed to near extinction.
It is precisely those ambitions – and the skill to realise them – that Pauline Hanson has yet to demonstrate. That is not to denigrate her resilience. The heroine in Pearl White’s The Perils of Pauline weathered fires, kidnappings and sabotage; our Pauline has weathered expulsions, bankruptcy, imprisonment and repeated anathemas.
If the pond had wanted that level of insight, it would have gone with a cartoon ...
Not this ...
... but this ...
The reptiles made things even more dire by flinging in a snap of the lying little rodent with a Canuck, Former prime minister of Canada Stephen Harper with former prime minister of Australia, John Howard.
Our Henry concluded his pack of bromides with a dullard summary:
That choice heightens rather than mitigates the risks confronting the centre-right. Because One Nation poses no credible claim to office – and because the electoral system partially insulates the Liberals from the forces eroding their base – complacency becomes seductively easy. Internal fractures are tolerated, strategic decisions postponed and structural frailties left to compound.
If that complacency endures, incremental losses – to the teals on one flank and One Nation on the other – will steadily accumulate, reducing the Liberals to a diminished remnant of what was once Australia’s most electorally successful political party.
That, unless Angus Taylor can arrest the drift, is what lies ahead: an ageing party, sustained by a narrowing cohort of older voters, locked in a two-front contest it cannot win. At a time that cries out for clear direction, it would continue to falter – a fading presence of glories past, too strong to die, too weak to thrive.
Not even a line or two from Sir Henry Newbolt's Vitaï Lampada, and the need to play up and play the game?
How could the pond be twelve again in that dismal fading of the light?
What else?
With Our Henry at last failing in his Zionist duties, the pond was pleased to see that the reptiles had rushed in the lesser Leeser to provide reinforcements.
For too long people in leadership dismissed the need to take strong measures against antisemitism. That includes people in the leadership of our universities.
By Julian Leeser
Sheesh, the pond had personally supervised that placement in the intermittent archives, only to get to the end and see it was an extract of a speech freely available outside the hive mind paywall.
That's more than enough of that then.
And for some perverse reason - what with his beat being Thursday - Jack the Insider was around sounding like he had read Sir Henry ... (the poet, not the pundit, the one where the Gatling's jammed, the square's broken, the sand runs red with blood).
Lying doggo is not an option. Policy work is needed. The Coalition needs to get its hands dirty and take the fight to One Nation.
By Jack the Insider
Columnist
Nah, there they were again, the triptych of terror ...
The pond personally supervised that listing in the intermittent archive but having been there and done that with Our Henry, thought a teaser trailer would suffice ...
Will the reptiles ever own up to the way that their migrant and black bashing, and Islamophobia, and hostility to woke, and DEI and women and the whole damn thing have paved the way for Pauline?
And so these perilous times have a lot to do with their feckless ways? Just like Faux Noise on a King Donald steroids overdose?
Probably not, though it might help explain them going quiet on the Tame matter. The pond had organise a couple of gags but they turned out to be useless ...
And so off to what, bizarrely, perversely, turned out to be a Killer delight ...
The header: It is easy to dismiss Australia’s $90bn high-speed rail dream, but it’s worth a crack; Building a high-speed rail network might give an increasingly depressed nation something to look forward to and be proud of. I’d rather governments ‘waste’ money on capital works than handouts too.
The rather dull caption for the rather dull snap: Anthony Albanese addresses the National Press Club of Australia in Canberra. Picture: NewsWire / Martin Ollman
You could have knocked the pond down with a four minute read of the Killer of the IPA feather.
Killer had done a pond and caught the intercity train - an experience the pond is planning to replicate again at the end of this financial year - and as a result he'd had a most un-Killer transformation.
He'd had a vision, a veritable dreaming.
The pond didn't want to intrude, just wanted to luxuriate in the grand plan:
Surely, with federal and state debts approaching $1.7 trillion, modernising carriages or even improving the track, so the XPTs could travel their potential 160km/h, could have been easily affordable? There is a distinct 1990s vibe about the features on the Sydney-Brisbane line too.
Australia is terrible at public infrastructure, paying too much for the wrong things, for the wrong reasons. Snowy Hydro 2.0, which the Turnbull government said would cost $2bn, is expected to come in at $20bn, if it’s ever finished. One shudders to think of the final cost of Victoria’s Suburban Rail Loop, which has already blown out to an estimated $216bn.
Dan Andrews quashed a proposal from a consortium to build a high-speed rail link from the airport to the city, which would’ve cost Victorian taxpayers only $5bn.
So, yes, it is easy to dismiss as fanciful the latest proposal for high-speed rail between Sydney and Newcastle. Politicians of all stripes have been banging on about high-speed rail for decades, and we haven’t even done medium-speed rail. According to a 300-page report, released this week, for $90bn we could, by the late 2030s, have 200m trains travelling over 300km/h an hour between NSW’s two biggest cities.
The reptiles interrupted with a snap of an old, if somewhat slow, friend, A High Speed Train operating between the two main Australian cities, powered by renewable energy, would replace the slow and inefficient diesel-powered service. Picture: iStock
It was such a bizarre switch - the joy of replacing grubby diesel with electric power (possibly renewables?) - that the pond drifted off into conspiracy theories.
Did the IPA see the chance for a private sector boondoggle, a chance to suck on the government teat in a bigly way, and make out like rorting bandits? Could this be the next Malware malfunctioning NBN?
And yet the dream was alive ...
Big projects typically cost far more than originally planned for reasons of deliberate bias, hubris and planners’ intrinsic naivety about the hard resource constraints related to labour and skills that ultimately determine costs.
From rail lines to nuclear power plants, the West has forgotten how to build major infrastructure cheaply, suffocating the process with countless series of bureaucratic approval processes. Oxford University academic Bent Flyvbjerg even came up with the Iron Law of Megaprojects: “Over budget, over time, under benefits, over and over again.” Rail projects are typically among the worst, running at least 50 per cent over budget, he found.
On that rule of thumb taxpayers would be looking at $135bn straight up for just the Sydney-Newcastle leg of what would eventually be similar services between Melbourne and Brisbane via Canberra and Sydney.
That’s a lot, but we could afford it. It’s easy to dismiss government spending projects as inherently wasteful but this is one of the few areas where even conservative economists should agree government should play a major role.
The pond did appreciate the way the sly IPA dog had slipped in a reminder of the need to nuke the country to save the planet.
But it was just an aside, and the dreaming survived.
The pond was knocked down by that feather again, as the reptiles flung in a snap to keep the vision alive, another old friend, A Eurostar train emerges from the Eurotunnel in Coquelles, northern France. Picture: AFP
The pond never went full Tim Fisher, but has always had a soft spot for trains, and catches them wherever possible, having begun early when the pond learned that the train was a reliable way to escape Tamworth's never-ending shame ...
Been there, done that, looked down from the footbridge and yearned for the big smoke, but enough with being 12 years old, on with Killer's vision:
To be sure, those large nations enjoy greater population densities than Australia, whose vast distances are often forgotten by the inner-city dreamers who want French-style public transport, ideally without the taxation. France, a bit smaller than NSW, is home to 70 million people. Building a high-speed rail network between the eastern capitals might give an increasingly depressed nation something to look forward to and be proud of. It would make housing more affordable too by reducing demand for Sydney dwellings close to the city.
I’d rather governments “waste” money on capital works than handouts too. The Sydney Opera House was 1400 per cent over budget, the third-biggest overrun in history, according to Flyvbjerg (the Suez Canal at 1900 per cent topped his list). Similarly, Eurotunnel, the consortium that built the underground tunnel linking Paris and London, went 140 per cent over budget. No one would seriously argue they shouldn’t have been built.
But government would have to fund almost all of the proposed Sydney-Newcastle line given the massive uncertainties surrounding its commercial viability.
The reptiles even slipped in a snap that seemed positively benign, Catherine King during Question Time at Parliament House in Canberra. Picture: NewsWire / Martin Ollman
It was the cue for Killer to embrace Big Australia and Big Australian dreaming, though the pond suspects that it will well and truly have passed over before there's the remotest chance of catching a Shinkansen in country (what a sublime experience that was, racing past Mount Fuji, waiting to devour the ekiben):
The economics of such a rail line is predicated on very rapid population growth, which might be about to dissipate, especially if the surge in One Nation support proves lasting. Moreover, as AI threatens to upend the white-collar world, will commuting to the CBD even be a thing by the time the trains are ready?
Before the pandemic the need for more and better infrastructure dominated the political debate. It’s understandable we’ve become cynical about government-backed infrastructure projects given our poor track record.
If the Big Australia advocates win the looming battle over population, we should put our understandable cynicism aside and get serious about high-speed rail.
Adam Creighton is Institute of Public Affairs chief economist.