Sunday, December 17, 2017

In which the pond gorges on Foxtel, the Devine and petulant Peta, and immediately regrets the indulgence ... too much Xmas pud always produces a bellyache ...


The Sunday Terrorists managed to do it yet again this weekend ...

Please, bear that front page in mind when we get to Miranda the Devine, offering a more than usually silly scribble this weekend, which at least answers the question that tormented the pond's comments section for a moment.

Yes, the answer is dumb, the reason people buy the Terror or vote for the Donald is that they're dumb, the sort of sheep and marks and johns and tricks always there at the country show when the snake oil sellers arrive to do their ritual fleecing routines ...

Speaking of which, before proceeding further, the pond happened to note this report in iTwire here, including this substantial gobbet in relation to HFC and Foxtel ...


So there's the real (as opposed to unreal) villains on parade.

Bloody Malware, useless Foxtel, and behind it all, the shadowy figure of that monster, Chairman Rupert ... a bloody American, ruining broadband for the nativists ...

Is there any upside? Well yes, as the chairman continues to clutch at old-fashioned media, this was noted in Crikey (no link, paywall protected, by Glenn Dyer for those with access) ...


And so to the Murdochian feast for the day ...


Now by way of a preamble, could the pond just explain that it's not going to comment much this day. 

The routinely barking mad Devine goes off the reservation, and there's nothing much to be done except send out a search party.

The pond will, however, issue an unreserved apology to sandgropers. Somehow this Sydney cockroach turns up in Perth Now, which just goes to show that it isn't cane toads alone that poses a threat to life in this country.

The pond is mortified. Nobody in the east pays the slightest attention to what happens in the west, and next thing you know the easterners are dumping intellectual asbestos in your western backyard, and you just sit back and take it ...

See how the Devine takes her rabid place amongst stories of interest to Western Australians ...


As noted, this is so fucked up and fundamentally weird - in a way that can only be attributed to the Devine's fucked up Catholic fundamentalism - that the main question seems to be whether she might not be better off in a nunnery ...


What, like the chairman, an honest and honourable man, as they all are, all honourable men, who thus far has accumulated a number of wives - counted in The Independent in 2013 here - or the Donald's efforts, including this noted in Vanity Fair here ...

...Propping up Donald’s sexual prowess called for some public self-degradation, but Melania, as his girlfriend, was willing to do it. In 1999, shortly after they began dating, she participated in an on-air phone call with Trump and Howard Stern, as they discussed her chest, and whether she stole money from Donald’s wallet. When Stern asked to talk to “that broad in your bed,” Trump put her on the line, and she spoke about how they had sex more than daily, and revealed that she was nearly nude. Stern replied, “I have my pants off already.” Thanks to her relationship with Trump, she finally got her glossy-magazine spread—nearly naked in British GQ, handcuffed to a briefcase on a private jet, which Trump supplied. Managing the career moves of his companions was part of a pattern. While he was still married to Ivana, Trump pushed his girlfriend Marla Maples to pose nude in Playboy and reportedly negotiated the fee himself. (The deal fell through.)

Ah yes, the age of chivalry isn't dead, not while we have the Donald ... but the pond can only find so many distractions, so it's back for a last Devine gobbet ...



See? The pond suggested that the lascivious, lip-licking Terror front page might come in handy ...


And so to petulant Peta, and what's interesting is the way her meme is just a pale reflection of so many other members of the right wing ...



And so on ... because inevitably almost any discussion of immigration of the Donald kind will be tinged with fear, loathing and racism ...

See how petulant Peta, deprived of a chance to slag off Malware about the Bennelong by-election, tries to step around the cow pats...



Real people?

As the pond's already noted, that's a real joke.

Of course it's stupid, like talk of real reality, and real Australia, and real Australians and real villains and all the other real realities ...

Where are all the unreal people? Well apart from the cockroaches that infest News Corp ... but then outside of Kakfa, how many unreal people are scuttling cockies?

And now - after the obligatory talk about supporting continued immigration - petulant Peta will soon cut to the fear and the loathing, but first, how about a suitably exotic and appealing shot of aliens looking very unreal and very un-Australian ...



Oh dear, that last snap is alarming, and now for the sophisticated bit of dog whistling.

You see there are good, sound economic and planning reasons to explain why STOP THE WOGS AND ASIANS COMING is just good old plain-fashioned real Australian sense ...



And so petulant Peta and the onion muncher and all the rest of the mob give comfort to the Pauline Hansons of the country, because that's the way they see to electoral success, trudging the by-ways of fear and loathing, and yet not a word about that wicked foreigner, that dire American, who has helped ruin the country's broadband ...

And as this is where the pond started, a few more cartoons from the land of the free, where Republicans have achieved wonderful success and there's Record inequality: The top 1% control 38.6% of America's wealth ... and better results still to come ...









In which the pond starts a meditative Sunday with a serve of Shanahan ...


Here's the thing. Once the reptiles get on to a band wagon, they can never shut up about it. They bang on and on like a Tamworth dunny door in a stiff zephyr ...

The pond had to hold over the lesser complimentary Shanahan for a meditative Sunday, but what's with this "Let them eat cake" crap? And how did George Orwell get into the mix?

Orwell was a half-baked Anglican and had no time for Catholic nonsense ...

...Orwell never showed any interest in arguing about doctrinal detail, almost as though he understood the necessity of an act of faith. What did outrage his flinty integrity was that so many intellectual Catholics hardly seemed to believe in their own creed. ‘If you talk to a thoughtful Christian, Catholic or Anglican,’ he wrote in 1944, ‘you often find yourself laughed at for being so ignorant as to suppose that anyone ever took the doctrines of the Catholic Church literally… [Those] who cling to the letter of the Creeds while reading into them meanings they were never meant to have, and who snigger at anyone simple enough to believe that the Fathers of the Church meant what they said, are simply raising smokescreens to conceal their own disbelief from themselves.’ 
Similarly, in his review of Graham Greene’s The Heart of the Matter (1948), Orwell observed that among certain clever Catholics, the idea had taken root that there was something rather distingué about being damned. ‘When people really believed in Hell,’ he witheringly concluded, ‘they were not so fond of striking graceful attitudes on its brink.’ 
Not that Orwell seemed any more favourably inclined towards Catholics such as Hilaire Belloc and G.K. Chesterton, who most certainly did believe and uphold the doctrines of the Church. These were men, he maintained, who had prostituted their intellectual integrity in order to turn out propaganda for their faith. In particular, the solid Englishman in Orwell recoiled from Belloc’s and Chesterton’s idealisation of Latin countries, especially France, which they presented as ‘a land of Catholic peasants incessantly singing the Marseillaise over glasses of red wine’. 
With his penchant for seeing every question through a political eye, Orwell fastened upon what he discerned as a marked pro-fascist streak within the Church. In his mind religious dogmatics and right-wing dictatorships were indissolubly linked... (Spectator here of the UK variety).

Well yes, but then he was also anti-semitic and homophobic ...

'Top o' the mornin' to ye!' he called to Flory in a hearty matutinal voice, putting on an Irish accent. He cultivated a brisk, invigorating, cold-bath demeanour at this hour of the morning. Moreover, the libellous article in the Burmese Patriot, which he had read overnight, had hurt him, and he was affecting a special cheeriness to conceal this. 
'Morning!' Flory called back as heartily as he could manage. 
Nasty old bladder of lard! he thought, watching Mr Macgregor up the road. How his bottom did stick out in those tight khaki shorts. Like one of those beastly middle-aged scoutmasters, homosexuals almost to a man, that you see photographs of in the illustrated papers. Dressing himself up in those ridiculous clothes and exposing his pudgy, dimpled knees, because it is the pukka sahib thing to take exercise before breakfast—disgusting! (Project Guternberg Burmese Days here)

Or maybe he just loathed scoutmasters as well as Catholics, and who can blame him for that?

Here's the thing.

Where was the outrage of the religionistas and the reptiles about homosexual freedom in the days of chemical castrations, whippings, canings, hangings, stonings to death, jailings, criminal prosecutions and persecutions and all the other paraphernalia of bigotry, fear and loathing, shared amongst the likes of Daesh, Islamic and Catholic fundamentalism?

Sheesh, see how your average lizard Oz Catholic fundamentalist can get the pond whipped up into a meditative Sunday lather with just the splashes to contemplate.

Better to get on with the usual maundering nonsense, which the pond could recite as if in a dream or a nightmare ...


What the fuck. A wanker cake-maker wants to pretend he's an artist so he can dress up his homophobia with hundreds and thousands?

Not even Jeff Koons at his most vulgar and hideous could carry on with that sort of nonsense ... oh wait ...


Never mind, call it what you will, the pond will be buggered if it can be called art ... whether made of flour or plaster ...

Meanwhile, since Orwell has been mentioned, and we're already in 1984, how about this latest effort by the Donald, as reported at the WaPo here ...


Yep, that's the Donald at work, the very same Donald supported by Chairman Rupert and the reptiles of Fox "News" ...

From there it's just a short hop and a jump to a recent pond reading in the NY Review of Books, Ku Klux Klambakes...

...the Klan of the 1920s strongly echoes the world of Donald Trump. This Klan was a movement, but also a profit-making business. On economic issues, it took a few mildly populist stands. It was heavily supported by evangelicals. It was deeply hostile to science and trafficked in false assertions. And it was masterfully guided by a team of public relations advisers as skillful as any political consultants today... ...

...She ends her book by writing, “The Klannish spirit—fearful, angry, gullible to sensationalist falsehoods, in thrall to demagogic leaders and abusive language, hostile to science and intellectuals, committed to the dream that everyone can be a success in business if they only try—lives on.” One intriguing episode links the Klan of ninety years ago to us now. On Memorial Day 1927, a march of some one thousand Klansmen through the Jamaica neighborhood of Queens, New York, turned into a brawl with the police. Several people wearing Klan hoods, either marching in the parade or sympathizers cheering from the sidelines, were charged with disorderly conduct, and one with “refusing to disperse.” Although the charge against the latter was later dropped, his name was mentioned in several newspaper accounts of the fracas. Beneath the hood was Fred Trump, the father of Donald.

Ah yes, but you won't find any talk in the lizard Oz of the outrageous trampling on the right to free speech and liberty of conscience when a woman got flattened by a vehicle in Charlottesville ... suddenly there'll be good folk on both sides of the street ...

The price of eternal bigotry is to have only one eye ...



When the pond last checked, there was actually nothing in the air that prevented fundamentalist Catholics, fundamentalist Islamics or Daesh from consigning homosexuals to an eternity of hellfire ...

But the notion that someone can be able to discriminate conducting business ... well, next thing you know, Catholics might be out there refusing to do business with Mormons, because, after all, they're a bunch of heretics destined to spend an eternity in hellfire, while your average Anglican or evangelical might be boycotting and refusing to bake cakes for followers of that whore of Babylon, the holy Roman church ...

And so on and so endlessly forth, a miasma of spewing bigotry, fear and loathing, of the kind routinely produced by religious fundamentalists and for which they now crave an indulgence, rather than being tucked away in their boxes where they might preach and spew their hatred in the privacy of like minds.

Thank the long absent lord for the minimal amount of secularism there is out there in the land ...

And now since the matter of the Donald has been raised yet again, a few cartoons ...






Saturday, December 16, 2017

In which the pond forsakes the bilious dog botherer for the dubious joys of nattering "Ned" ...


Yes, it's a lay-down misère ... there's no way a good hand, even with a Joker in it, could defeat the dog botherer at comedy ...

The bilious hater moaning about bile and hate?

It's simply too rich, too sublime ... and yet such is the innate natural perversity of the pond that it decided to go with an old favourite for the day ...


Pause for a Colbert beat ... just kidding ... but it does set the mood for a burst of hand-wringing, sky-falling nattering "Ned" ...



Now this might all seem a tad premature. The pond takes a very Doris Day Que Sera Sera attitude to Bennelong. The pond isn't within the electorate, isn't voting, and all will be revealed in due course, and the cards - even the dog botherer's Joker - will fall how and where they may ...

But you see portentous nattering "Ned" has seized the moment to do a grand survey of all that matters at the moment ... and even though Julia Gillard managed well enough for three years with a marginal government, it seems there's the usual need for much anxiety and hand-wringing and worry-warting, because the sky is still falling ... or might possibly fall, or Malware might somehow have mis-spoken or mis-stepped yet again ... an eternal conga line of Godwn Grech foppery and harborside mansion foolishness ... a man forever defined by the hat he wears ...


No need to worry where the pond stands ... it stands with the secular Pope ... (here) ... and so at last to Ned ...


And we will get a better NBN within our lifetimes, provided you're only ten at the time you hear this ...


Thousands of jobs and the future of millions of Australians will be guaranteed by the time and expense involved in fixing the mess ...

We keed, we keed, please, do go on and on about the threat from the north ...


Indeed, indeed. Thank the long absent lord no one has been stoking fears about the fiendish people to the north ...


Oh we've been there so many times before ... speaking of dear lost Harold, as the reptiles have been doing in recent days ...


But with the summit nowhere in sight, it's best to get back to nattering "Ned" ...


Indeed, indeed, such an agile, innovative country, and in such good health too ... and with such a fine private education system (public? Meh ...).

And so to a ritual which has lasted from Roman times ...

 

Yes, even though the result is only hours away, it's time to consult the chickens, listen to the omens, read the runes, construe the entrails, decipher the tea leaves and consult the polls ...


Thank the long absent lord that nattering "Ned" was only worried about the heat and didn't feel the need to mention rampant hypocrisy. Fortunately our ties with China are in the very best of hands ...


More of that, with active links, video, and perhaps a serve of 北京烤鸭 (Běi jīng kǎo yā) to go here ...

Well, we all know what's really at stake, and it isn't the future of Australia or jobs or all the rest of it, it's about saving Malware's arse ... as the malcontents circle, the sharks hover, and wait to sniff the first sign of blood in the water ...

And after all that waffle, instead of more roast duck, what about a serve of Rowe, as the chairman gets swallowed by the mouse house?

The pond will treasure this image, though there's much more treasurable Rowe here ...



In which the pond does a dynamic pivot to prattling Polonius ...




Who knew the chairman was a fan of Silicon Valley, a comedy about silly people using futurist lingo to disguise sundry retreats and defeats ...

Naturally the spinmeisters were out in force at the lizard Oz ...


The pond preferred the NY Times' reference to the chairman having his King Lear Moment ...

At times like this there's an urgent need for kowtowing, lickspittle forelock tuggers ... and by golly the lizard Oz came up not just with the supine DD, but with a beauty ...


Well done Terry. Such abasement, and done in such a professional way ...

Actually in fond memory of that megahit Myspace - Generation Z doesn't even remember Myspace - the pond was more beguiled to read this in the Graudian ...


There's more here, and what fun it is to read ...

Talk about a pivot... or is that an epic dummy spit ...or simply a sulker picking up the ball and going home ... but soon enough, it seems the trees will at last be safe ...

And so to the onerous, burdensome duty of the day, which is as predictable as it is mendacious ... which is to say, insincere, disingenuous, perfidious, and Janus-faced ... all that might be expected from prattling Polonius any time of the week ...


Please miss, Johnny did it too, why aren't you picking on him ...

Now given the lizard Oz's front page, this was to be expected, as the church and the reptiles dig in ...


But there were other responses in other newspapers ...


Can Polonius avoid flinching? 

Catholics must take responsibility? 

In your Polonial dreams ...


Ah, the good old Roy Moore excuse. 

Why m'lud, it all happened decades ago, and anyway those young fillies was willing and appreciated the attention of a mature gentleman, and besides it's all the fault of Fairfax Media, the ABC and Fitzy, what with his confronting bandana ... and besides others did it, and that means we shouldn't focus on the hapless tykes ...

When the pond mentioned mendacious, did it also use the word 'dissembling'?

What was that Francis Sullivan?



In your dreams, or perhaps over at the Graudian here ... because the pond must get back to the dodging and the ducking and the weaving and the down-playing and the avoiding ...oh and the quoting of the craven Craven doing the same ...


What was that again Francis Sullivan?


In your craven Polonial dreams ...

You know, in the old days, an act of contrition meant you were sorry and you went off into a corner and expressed your contrition and sorrow and promised to do better, and perhaps threw in an Our Father or a Hail Mary as part of the routine ... not waste time fudging, denying and blaming others ...

In particular you didn't explain how it was all decades ago, and then proceed to harp on endlessly about what Richard Downing said in 1975, as if somehow that's an excuse or a justification or an exculpation of all that has been done by others while using churches and institutions as a cloak for their inexcusable behaviour ...

How did that song go?

I've seen the churches and the institutions
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every pandering inexcusable Catholic's
like a setting sun ...

And so to the Pope of the day, one prepared to offer fearless encyclicals and a little light holyday reading, with more papal advice here ...