Hang on, hang on, of course the pond would like to discuss the pressing issues of the day. Okay?
Of course the pond would like to unveil its balanced and fair suite of tax and spending adjustments that would produce benefits to the rich and suitably punish the poor.
Of course the pond would love to commiserate with jolly Joe, and brood about the unfairness of the courts, and moan with him about his personal loss, and share his sense of outrage that politicians can't just go around selling their favours (and access to obtain same) like sluts and whores of old without the press carrying on like a bunch of frustrated johns (don't get the pond started about the time its contribution to a certain political party resulted in a remarkable adjustment in favour of the pond).
Of course the pond would like to expound on the way that Emma Alberici and Jeff Kennett managed to produce an absolutely thought-free zone, blathering on about the vision thingie, such that by the end of it the pond had thought it had lost at least 12.25 IQ points, and even more amazing the Fairfaxians deemed the blather worth coverage - go on, rot your brain at Fairfax here, because damned if the pond will waste your time linking to the ABC.
Journalists watching pensioners blather to the ABC, and then writing it up, and they still contrive to call it journalism ... for shame, Aisha Dow and your editors ... please now join Emma in the valley beyond shame.
Of course the pond is contemplating legal action against the reptiles of Oz for their unsanctioned theft of pond terminology:
Yes the reptiles are in a state of continuing rage as they head back to the future and remind everyone it's coal, coal, coal for Australia and the woooorrrld ...
Oh they've been busy, the reptiles, busy and frantic:
Sssh, whatever you do, please don't mention the European heat wave which might provide a different mantra ... vote for Tony Abbott and help get a totally fucked planet.
Of course the pond would like to explain why it will never ever vote for Bill Shorten - well at least until the twelfth of never and that's a long, long time - but its sense of rage was cut short by this effort by the HUN:
It's an EXCLUSIVE?
Why it's about as exclusive as Aisha Dow sitting down to watch a pensioner blather to the ABC, and then writing up the results of her unfortunate viewing habits ...
But while the pond's been asleep, there have been important developments on the Bronnie front, with things moving faster than a bushfire in the Blue Mountains or the Adelaide Hills.
So all the important stuff has been swept aside by the pond's love of trivia, and the fascination of watching a grand old dame go down in flames ...
Now it's old news that Bronnie has become a meme, but lately she's also been flamed in a way that took the pond back to the good old days of BBS. (Gather around young 'uns and the pond will tell of long lost flame wars ....)
Oh never mind, it's an old saw but true, that the full to overflowing intertubes never rest, and Bronnie has now been banished, which is an irony, given her master's love of banishment.
Eventually the MSM caught up with it, and so too did this blog, like an Aisha Dow feasting on the carcass of the trivial and the useless, though this time it was Brittany Rupert doing Brownyn Bishop's Facebook cover photo angers social media.
Sadly if you follow the link provided by Brittany you cop this:
Don't thank the pond Bronnie, for our patience ... why we can wait at least until the twelfth of never, and that's a long, long time ...
Naturally the pond went off to the Wayback Machine and discovered that Bronnie was only trying to do the decent thing, and she probably put up that aerial shot on her Facebook site as a way of making up for her mistake on her website, with the design looking like an attempt to evoke ABBA's "Money, money, money":
Even better, the pond would like to know the name of the ponce that parked the name of Bronnie and then onsold it to Bronnie, no doubt for a tidy profit. Here it was before Bronnie became Bronnie:
So what's the moral to this story?
Well Bronnie is now a cosmic internet joke, up there with the Donald. It's got nothing to do with peace, justice, right or wrong, fairness or any of the other humbug vision thingie words a pensioner is likely to spray at a dummy like Emma.
It's just the way it is, and while it won't mean much to anyone outside the intertubes whirl, it means, in scientological terms, that she's fair game, and will cop spray after spray after spray ... and shortly could well become the new frothy Santorum mix for the ages ...
The memes are now inescapable ...
How did it come to this?
Naturally the pond turned to the Oz reptile best able to offer a Freudian explanation for Tony Abbott's fixation on his adopted mother:
Hmm, perhaps what's being hinted at here is best summarised in a cartoon:
So Abbott, the strutting macho alpha male has a thing for forceful women. Well, you don't have to be a Freudian to know where that leads ... maybe more a Havelock Ellis ... (hmm, is there a cilice in the house?)
But back to reptile analysis because things are about to get interesting in the west:
Oh dear, so Peta should be more like Bronny?And never hint at surrender?
But Bronny's now a cosmic intertubes joke ... a Brunhildr who really should throw herself on the funeral pyre and go up in flames to save her adopted son ...
Never mind, the pond was reminded that the very next time the Menzies Research Centre was mentioned, it would run that famous old story about Ming the Merciless about Adolf, made a good eight months or so after Kristallnacht, and not too long before the start of the second world war.
The pond was reminded of it while reading Jeff Sparrow at the Graudian here and one version is at Trove here.
So that's where a love of strength gets you ...
Well played Mr Sullivan, well played ...
Oops, sorry Mr Sullivan, this just in, and the pond has to snatch back your intertubes meme award, because there's been some late entries ...