Saturday, January 19, 2019

In which the pond heeds the sage advice of Polonius ...

  

The pond should start off by noting that it hasn't taken long for the reptiles to get back into peak form, rather like the Australian cricket team …it's never too early in the year to get the fear-mongering into gear, what with an election just around the corner ...

A SPECIAL INVESTIGATION? Wouldn't it be simpler to run a story, WHATEVER YOU DO, DON"T VOTE FOR COMRADE BILL, THE SKY WILL FALL DOWN

And as sure as there's a heatwave, the reptiles will just as surely wheel out Bjorn, full of bland reassurance …


There were other sightings too, the dog botherer was out and about and Helen of Dale was given a spot, but here's the thing …

The pond has decided it wants a dollar each time that 'leets are mentioned, and two dollars when said perfidious 'leets cop a caning, in a rag flung together in the heart of Sydney town …

There was the dog botherer railing at the 'leets at the end of his piece…



And here was Helen of Date having a go at the 'leets at the end of her piece


So-called 'leets? Superannuated 'leets?

And yet funnily enough these assaults on the 'leets came within cooee of the thumbs at the bottom of the columns, designed to establish that the dog botherer and Helen Dale were truly 'leet.

Why Helen of Dale had even studied law at Oxford, and comically, could write "in truth" in her concluding par, when in truth her first novel lacked a little of the truth …

But enough of these comedy stylings. When in doubt the pond always turns to a firm favourite, and he'll know the cause of all the world's problems … the bloody ABC …and if anyone's obsessed enough with the ABC to write at length about its obsessions, then surely the obsessive Polonius qualifies ...


Oh and wretched independents too, but here the pond should confess … because looking at the impending election in New South Wales, the pond wouldn't mind a decent independent in its electorate, given the dire state of the major parties, one unable to construct a simple tram line, the other led by someone the pond still can't name, and the Greens in a deep melt-down …

Heresy of course, and that's why the pond is always in need of Polonial advice and correction ...


Thanks to that illustration, it immediately dawned on the pond what the real problem was.

It isn't an infatuation with independents, it's an infatuation with bloody women. Look at them, all smiling and waving, and yet ruining everything …

And we all know the sort of ruin that can lead to. Why it can make the dog botherer go off like a rabid dog, frothing and foaming, and unable to get a decent manly shave …


Ah those bloody 'leets again, but the pond promises not to get distracted, Polonius has the floor and Polonius must be heeded ...


Demolishing the authority of the Prime Minister?

She actually had authority? Sorry, the pond thought she was there so she could be a figure of fun for American cartoonists …

 


Of course the current predicament might have had something to do with the way May shamelessly wound down the clock, thinking if she had everybody's backs to the wall, they'd cave, and sign up for a deal that no one apart from her liked, which is hardly the way to establish any kind of authority …

But there the pond goes again, thinking heretical thoughts, and deeply in need of Polonial correction ...


Dear sweet long absent lord, the pond didn't realise things had got so serious with Polonius in his dotage.

He's taken to talking of "essential facts" when essentially he's sounding like someone channeling Boris, or perhaps Rees-Mogg or Nigel, and he's doing it by offering up an alternative virtual counterfactual history … still railing at the bureaucrats of Brussels and offering more "Ifs" than a Lindsay Anderson film …

If the EU …
David Cameron might have …
May might have …

The Brits decided to go their own way, and yet they should have been mollycoddled by the EU. When the pond hears that sort of plaintive weeping, it's usually in the company of a teenager …

David Cameron might have been a visionary in a completely alternative universe …instead of scuttling away from the scene of the crime like a loon and leaving May to pick up the pieces ...

Suddenly the pond was plunged into the world of counterfactuals conditionals, with Greg Hunters heading off here

Rather than go down that rabbit hole of Polonial "what ifs", might the pond just take time out to celebrate the return of the weekly Beast, which can be found here

It contained this delicious follow-up to a matter the pond first noted in Crikey


The pond immediately understood Bernard's confusion.

You see, Christine Ahern is blonde. It's immediately apparent that her status as a blonde is relevant. There's clearly a link between criminally bad journalism and risky conduct, home country conflict trauma, working for Today or perhaps the lizard Oz, and trying to work out a way to escape and get into some kind of media refugee resettlement program …

But the pond will leave it up to readers to make their own assessment of the possibilities of blonde jokes, and crude meaningless caricatures, stereotypes and irrelevant details, because it has a Pope cartoon which calls out for attention …


Well there's more relevant Pope here, and now it's back to Polonius for a final gobbet …and wouldn't you know it, as well as standing firm on Brexit, Polonius is still a Donald man …which amazingly makes him a Putin man … hating the EU and NATO and all that European experiment nonsense ...



The present partial shutdown of the US government is just a manifestation of America's current discontent? Silly pond, there it was thinking it was just a matter of the Donald having a massive sulk and temper tantrum over a rampantly stupid, ineffective and expensive solution to border security ...

As for someone complaining about the American constitution? How pleasing to see that Polonius is a stern originalist and no variations or amendments (never mind there's been a few) will be tolerated.

Why that's as shocking as complaining about the way the Senate is currently constituted, that unrepresentative swill …

A Senate in which the Coalition and the Labor Party each had one-half of the members, would probably be more rigid than when the government of the day is able, by negotiation, to construct majorities on particular pieces of legislation. Indeed, it might be argued that a government is actually better off in that position than if the Senate seats were neatly halved between the Coalition and Labor. At least it has the option of negotiating with a party or individual Senator(s) who control the balance of power. 
As Gerard Henderson has noted, 
Whatever its complaint [about the Senate], the first Howard government did get most of its programme through the Senate-with the help of the Democrats and Independents… (here).

Oh not those bloody independents again …

Well that was a trip around the mulberry bush with no particular insight on offer ...

Never mind, the pond realises that Polonius only raised the matter of the Donald so that the pond could end with a few more cartoons …




Friday, January 18, 2019

In which the pond does another dreaded triptych … worse than a triple somersault, flipping with Moorice, Henry and our man Flint ...


An unsolicited, unwanted, unprompted message from Clive, and as a result, the pond thought it could kick off a laid-back, jokey Friday without a care in the world, as the weekend loomed …

Clive's ads have been all over YouTube like a cockroach, suggesting it costs peanuts to buy a spot on the site, the sort of moola Clive could afford, once he avoided paying his employees. 

Perhaps the ABC could get Tony Jones to do another penetrating interview, like he did in the good old days …

But on to the assorted crises gripping the reptiles, and the pond knew it was serious because Moorice was leading the way …


Moorice has been predicting, yearning, hoping for the apocalypse for so long now, it's about bloody time it happened …


Good old Moorice. Who else could start off with such a ripper line and such a ripper equation - democracy = competitive capitalism.

Take that Xians, and your silly socialist delusional leader. 

Only a while ago, the reptiles were worrying that millennials couldn't do maths, and all they needed was Moorice to teach them how to do their sums …bloody useless, hopeless youffs …sock it to 'em Moorice ...


Oh yes we'll all be rooned, and where's the onion muncher when he's needed, and what's this SloMo talk of a surplus? 

Stand well clear. When Moorice does a jeremiad, this Jeremiah spares nothing and nobody and might even quote Ayn Rand - apparently unaware that Ayn found relief at the end thanks to government welfare ...


Passing strange, muh lud, the pond did think that it was hard rightists, Murdochians and Moorice, splendid agent provocateurs all, who claimed these hapless folk were victims of the "hard Left" and perhaps even GetUp. 

Which is why the pond always reads Moorice for a diligent thought correction …after all, who controls the lizard Oz, controls the future … of an ageing demographic shouting at clouds ...


Indeed, indeed, it seems these bloody millennials, with their blather about climate change are everywhere …


Here, have a cartoon, you'll need it, because it isn't just Moorice that's in a funk … 




More papal redemption here, which is just as well because "hole in the bucket" Henry has gone feral ...


High noon? Emergency powers? Jackboots? Democracy is dead? Call for Adolf, or perhaps a handy gunslinger?



The pond just had to slip in that illustration as a reminder of the way they did it in the old days, because the mobile-framed, out-of-focus offering from Lobbecke that accompanied poor old Henry looks really weird …

Never mind, it guarantees our Henry cult status ...


Yes, he did go there, he went the Adolf … warning, the soup Nazi is in the kitchen … and our Henry has gone the full heil furchtloser Anführer ...


Indeed, indeed. How right to fear the brutes, the deplorables, the wretches, the hungry terrifying hordes. Lock up your children, huddle with Marie Antoinette and our Henry under the bed … the rabble are out and about …


But enough of movie references, our Henry has got the fear … though strangely when the Murdochians were reporting on the mobs chanting 'lock her up', all was good, and being friends with Xi and Vlad the impaler were just good business opportunities for 'competitive capitalism' ...


And there, millennials is another equation, thanks to our Henry: Cincinnatus = the Donald, sort of …

It's time for a Donald dictatorship! Centurion, bring forth the emergency powers, or at least Rusty running his hands gently over a field of wheat ...


Around this point, the pond started to wonder when it became the fashion amongst the Murdochians to announce - once they'd lost some point - that the end of the world was nigh and all was rooned, and soon enough the rabble would be in the 'leet Surry Hills offices giving them a trashing, and not a coffee to be found from the nearby world class baristas….

When did the apocalypse become such a fashionable business? When did the manly men who spurn Gillette ads learn to make a living by wetting their pants and fearing the raging mob?


Passing strange, muh lud, whatever happened to Rees-Mogg's proposition that there was an exciting business opportunity in the wind for 'competitive capitalism' …


If you don't have a life you can watch it here, but might the pond instead suggest How to explain Jacob Rees-Mogg? Start with his father's books

Or perhaps have a cartoon ...



More ringing of the Bell here - do not ask for whom the Bell tolls - because only the hardiest jolly hockey stickers will be able to handle the cracking pace set by the pond.

You see, the pond couldn't just leave it to the reptiles, the pond simply had to check out the best of the best at the Speccie mob.

Forget Mark Latham, come on down Flinty, with a marvellous self-portrait to get the show on the road …


Actually the New York Times was even more devious and wretched by having fun with prevert penguins ...


What on earth would the onion muncher make of this sordid tale?


More of that shocking tale here … the wretched smarty pants at the NY Times thought it was some kind of antipodean fun, not realising the way it undermined the onion muncher and sundry reptiles dedicated to the natural order of things …

Meanwhile, the pond shouldn't forget that good old Flinty was still rabbiting on …bloody women, bloody women politicians ...


Poor old Theresa. All the Schick-using manly men slunk away to leave her with the job, and now it's all her fault …

Forget the manly Boris, he'll live to wreck and fuck up another day, while she's forever a figure of fun and epic failure...


And meanwhile Rees-Mogg sees exciting opportunities everywhere, and there's simply no room in British asylums to contain the wild-eyed Tories roaming the land …

And now we must pause, to make room for our man Flint to give himself a pat on the back …followed by an epic example of how to do climate science ...


There you go, that's how to do climate science in your dotage. Why Flinty recalls heat waves from his childhood - whoever imagined such a thing, why the pond recollects in Tamworth that it rarely got above twenty - and who knew there was a fiendish conspiracy afoot … and Malware was the chief conspirator …

Our man Flint does, and that's why the pond finds something comforting in Flinty identifying with Bill Hunter in Muriel's Wedding ...

But enough of movie references. What news, what view halloo from the United States?

Things seemed so glum with 'Hole in the bucket' Henry and an hysterical Moorice, but our man Flint will get the weekend off to a happy start with his usual celebration of the noble deeds of the Donald ...


And it's true, reading all that resulted in the pond feeling tremendously gay and smiling with glee.

Why, forget all this idle talk of democracy, and relax agitated Henry.

We have our fearless dictator, and he is leading us to the promised land, and as he walks through the idyllic landscape, our man Flint will be there ...always ready to jerk his chain, or perhaps perform other feats not possible to mention in a family-friendly blog …

Here, have a couple more cartoons, and enjoy the sort of weekend Flinty once enjoyed in his childhood …



Thursday, January 17, 2019

In which the reptiles caricature themselves, without any help from the pond ...

Caricature:
a picture, description, or imitation of a person in which certain striking characteristics are exaggerated in order to create a comic or grotesque effect.


Please don't blame the pond, it has no desire to caricature the reptiles - they do it to themselves …

Look, there in the rotating splash at the top of the faraway tree in reptile la la land …

 


The usual reptile bête noises were on parade - Bettina having a fainting fit, and the unions scaring the pants off the weakling reptiles …

It was beyond the valley of the reptile caricature, somewhere on the dark side of the moon where plants wilt ...

And there were follow-up yarns ...

 

Piers Morgan leading the charge? That cream puff?

Here's a suggestion.

The Murdochians announce a News Corporation world wide ban on Gillette and its products, and never mind that the Murdochians have railed against boycotts in the past, especially if poor old Fox and Tucker cops a pounding.

Make a stand for manliness. Back up Piers, revive Bettina from her fainting fit with smelling salts and news of the boycott ...

Would it, could it happen? Of course not, the impotent wretches don't actually want to take a stand, they just want Bettina jumping up and down, because it appeals to the ageing white men shouting at clouds, who make up the reptile demographic …

Meanwhile, the caricatures continued …


So much for Suez, and look over there, at the top of the digital page …

Yep, the bromancer strikes again, and the actual piece was even sillier … because in the pond's observation, not even everyone in the Labour party thinks that much of Corbyn …

But the reptiles are in deep demonisation, fear-mongering mood this morning, beyond even the usual caricature ...


Why did the reptiles persist in running this piece, wherein the bromancer is full of unbearable tension, when just above it comes news that it's actually full of unbearable delusion? The Tories lurch on, with May somehow clinging to power ...

Who knows why the reptiles did it, who knows why they do anything, but can we at least mention Winston Churchill, so that Brexit might compare with the second world war?


Frankly the pond felt short-changed. It decided to charge up on a Pope, with more Papal celebrations here


And then the pond went on the prowl, because it wanted a proper dose of bromancer in full frothy, foaming flight, and what do you know …


Now there's nothing more the pond loves than Tories dumping on Tories, Tories ripping the stomach lining out of other Tories, Tories filled with regrets, Tories beset by woes and fears, the very same woes and fears they themselves created, in a most under the bed Sendakian fashion ...


Yes, it was all her fault, and nothing to do with the "all care, no responsibility here" mob of the Boris kind, who having set the shop on fire, calmly walked away to scribble furious columns for the UK Terror …and what of Rees-Mogg, the pond's favourite villain, pursued by Boris impersonator and the apocalypse?


But not to worry, it's all her fault, shameless and incompetent hussy ...


Does it please the pond that the bromancer is sounding a bit like a Steve Bell cartoon?


Not really, because Bell does a mean caricature, with more mean cartoons here, and he simply isn't the same as the added relish the pond experiences at the sight of a bromancer and other Tories moaning and quivering and quavering and donning sackcloth and ashes.

Where is your Rees-Mogg now, oh bromancer, oh Tory lover? Where is your Boris? Where is your Nigel? Why have they forsaken you? How did they manage to help fuck it up so completely and comprehensively? Oh never mind, it's still all her fault, shameless, incompetent hussy ...


Yep, never mind the gormless Tory men who bunged on the do, and then, from Cameron on, either took to the hills or spent their time sniping and hiding, it's all her fault ...

And so to an item beyond caricature, and high up on the reptile page, and never mind that the country's in the grip of a dire heat wave, and thinking of all the poor fishies ...


Why do the reptiles do it? Why do they carry on so?

At first the pond suspected they were just helping out an old mate, always in urgent need of attention, in the usual narcissist way, and perhaps with a book to flog ...


But The Climate Change Delusion was actually published in September 2017.

Cori Bernardi helped at the launch, the Terror and the other usual suspects lined up to celebrate, and now it's all looking a bit tired and faded … and yet still the reptiles give him space …

Why did they dust off this moth-eared old loon and give him a run? Surely the only explanation is the reptile lust for caricature and self-satire?


Now the pond's not going to debate the issue, except to note that bold state "In my 50-year scientific career, I have never seen a hypothesis where 97 per cent of scientists agree."

Where does that leave the scientific greats? Aren't theories the results of tested hypotheses? Surely in the real world, rather than argue over a meaningless statistic, there's plenty of meaningful data for a working hypothesis, which might even have achieved the status of a theory …

Timing, it's all in the timing …


(here)



It's all in the timing, or in the cartoons, or in the images and reports ...

You'd have to be a tone deaf dinkum clean Oz coal lover, oi, oi, oi, not to realise that now is not the best timing for a Plimer outing …not even the onion muncher would go there this week ...

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
The reptiles losing their timing this late in their climate denialist career
But where are the Plimers?
There ought to be Plimers
Don't worry, they're still here ...

Put it another way …how long must the pond endure these post-modernist, post-ironic, relativist French theories of the world, where nobody agrees on anything? Where scientists are a confused rabble of incoherent thinking and anarchic, chaotic disagreement ... unless they happen to be Plimer, and it goes without saying, Plimer agrees with Plimer, but not with many others, especially if you discount crackpots, conspiracy theorists and mining sector lobbyists and coal lovers …

Well there's a last gobbet to go, and then the pond will have done with this caricature of a day in the life of the reptiles, even if it still doesn't know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall ...



Robbing the taxpayer blind? Does Plimer really know what's going down?



But enough of tired old pond memes, how about a fresh cartoon or three?