Sunday, July 26, 2015

In which the pond, thanks to the reptiles, indulges in a Sunday meditation with the poodle...

The pond has decided to spend this meditative Sunday brooding with the maligned lizards of the reptile Oz.

We've already noted their generosity in freeing the bromancer from the paywall, and so it seems only fair to put the words of a paid servant of the public behind the barrier, so that any Australian wanting to find out what their political masters think should pay a tithe to Chairman Rupert.

So it was in medieval days when the church was strong, and so it is today when the kool aid still lingers ...

And then to an agonising decision.

Should the poodle be featured as a statesman in the hallowed halls of power?

Or should the shameless use of children for political, 'humanising' purposes be allowed?

How thoughtful of the reptiles to allow both.

But before we go on to the text of the day, the pond must have a few more cavils and complaints.

How did the reptiles not allow this gem into their sample?

On his first memory of politics 
(I) was watching Adventure Island on the television on 11 November 1975, with my mother ironing behind me, when the show was stopped for the announcement of the dismissal of the Whitlam Government. As an eight-year-old boy I was disappointed that Adventure Island was cut off, but my mother stopped her ironing and shed a tear and I thought, That’s very strange. It was only Adventure Island, after all! As it turned out, they weren’t tears of distress. Mum said, “Everything is going to be all right now because that terrible Mr Hayden and Mr Whitlam will be gone.’

That explains more about the poodle than the pond ever needed to know ...

And what about this gem?

On when he first decided to become a politician 
In Year 10 [at St Ignatius College], learning about the statesmen of Ancient Rome and Greece and reading The Making of the President, 1960, [a book about Kennedy gifted by cranio-facial surgery pioneer Dr David David] I was sure that public service was what I should do with my life. Sitting in class I made a plan, written in the back page of my Ancient History exercise book. I would be the federal member for Sturt ... when I was 25.

And how about this one?

On Bronwyn Bishop 
The first person I saw in my entire political career in the House of Representatives was Bronwyn Bishop. There were a lot of people who were very unhappy about me replacing my distinguished predecessor Ian Wilson as Member for Sturt. Bronwyn Bishop was one of them. As she glided towards me, impeccably dressed as usual, I thought, “Oh no, it’s Bronwyn. This is not a good start.” But Bronwyn smiled, so I tentatively smiled back and said, “Hello, Bronwyn.’’ She grabbed my forearms, pulled me in close to her, kissed me on both cheeks and said, “We are going to become great friends!" (All here, may be paywall affected).

Never mind, the pond accepts the reptile offer to wail and gnash their teeth, and don sackcloth and ashes for the day for their sins of omission, and on we go with the reading.

It should be remembered that the point of all endurance tests is simply to get to the end. There is no other purpose, no useful information, no insights, just endurance. And with endurance, perhaps there might also come enlightenment:

Oh dear. The pond can already feel a detritus overload coming on, and soon enough will probably start blathering about sins of commission and omission with its own child.

But let us proceed, because surely enlightenment will come if there's enough endurance:

How are you holding up? Is that a sweat of rage, or a cold sweat, or simply the sweat of a good hard slog?

Oh dear, those couple of references to Dawn Fraser, silly old chook, are a bit dated now, unless of course we should join the poodle in telling people that they should go back to where they come from. With a little loose talk, the silly old chook ruined her one great achievement, stealing that flag in Tokyo (the pond doesn't rate the collection of sporting trinkets and tinkling medals that highly). 

But let's plough on:

Uh huh. So the poodle was wrong about John Howard - but you see, if he can't spot a Lazarus, perhaps it helps explain why he's pretty much wrong about everything else.

And so at long last to the end of the journey, but what do we find there?

Ah, all that blather and the parade of cute children stories - up there with LOLcats really - and much humanity on display, and all the wags can do is make cynical jokes ...

Too cruel really, even if a 100k is a lot for a uni degree, and you'd think the poodle would have better things to do - like fucking up the Australian education system - as opposed to dragging his family, his children and his memories into the public eye ... and then publishing the result, and hopefully pocketing a little payment for the pleasure ...

It's the children the pond feels sorry for - no doubt to be haunted in later life the way the poodle sounds haunted and driven - but at least now the pond understands why the reptiles were so discreet. Better to stick it behind the paywall, keep it locked up, and save innocents the pain of stumbling across it ...

Thirty three bucks, Random House wants for the book, which means the pond has saved a good thirty three bucks.

That'll have to do for enlightenment, especially as it's enough for a serving of chicken tandoor from the immortal 100% Halal Faheem Fast Food ...

Please don't tell them to go back to where they come from, because it's likely the pond would starve.

And now for a cleansing Cathy Wilcox cartoon about how 'it's all about me', and more Wilcox here ...


  1. More extract, and this one is particularly unctuous. I will thoroughly enjoy my brekkie tomorrow, a slice of rye toast anointed with Promite with a thick layer of avocado on top. Perfect! I am so grateful I do not pay for newsprint.

    1. I think Dick Smith has had an effect. My favourite salty spread is now Mighty Might from that old Lidcombe company 333. Bloody good, and Aussie to boot.

  2. 1001 stupid questions to ask before you die.

    While we are on food, why do fashionable bakers aped by Coles and Wollies sell short loaves of bread called 'bastards'?

    ('Cept the frenchify it and call it a batard. Bastard none the less.)

    Try walking into Bakers Delight and saying "I'd like a couple of bastards thanks."

    1. Letter to my daughter:-

      "Dad wasn't around for many important events in your lives because he was working his arse off to provide for you.
      Sorry that there was no such thing as a mobile phone for up to the minute pics"

      Christopher Pyne - you are a soft-cock!


    2. In Old English, pine meant "to torture or cause to experience pain," which seems quite fitting if you've known what it's like to pyne for something or someone.

  3. Food as medicine after sniffing that lot of sickening poodle puke, eh? Halal Tandoori Fish Tikka may be a better cure, and cheaper too?

    However, after being brought so low upon even such a brief exposure to such a foul poodle miasma, for the recovering invalid's nourishment an aromatic spicy seafood dish may be best fresh - think of the vitamins!

    Halal is it? Then how about a helping of corvina in cervich?

  4. Reading today's Pond's book review of Pyne's latest literary effort is like skating on syrupy sugar-coated juvenile memories.
    Pyne reveals a father who is absent most of his childhood who died when he was 20 and a devoted mother who 'brung him up'in the Liberal way.

    There's a good potted history here:

    Pyne also appears to live in a Pollyanna-type world where everyone likes him.

    " My wife sometimes says, ‘I don’t think that person likes you.’ And I say, ‘How could they not like me? What are you talking about?’ And she says, ‘I think you’re missing the social signals.’ I’ve been in [parliament] for nearly 20 years … and if I took the comments that have been made about me personally, it would be hard, really, to keep doing this job.” "

    While he bemoans 'people who had come into Parliament well after me - and not just a handful of them - had been promoted ahead of me', Howard thought he was a dick and never gave him any important role in government.

    He was apparently voted the 'The Most Annoying Person in Parliament"

    1. Excellent link, if only because the pond finally began to understand:

      His thin voice – part aristocrat, part magpie – strains in its upper register in a continual reminder that he is different from the majority of people.

  5. Bugga you DP, that wasn't a meditation, it was a bloody double penance. Although one doesn't usually laugh after penance, but I did. Thanks.
    Christopher,spare the kids and just let them read your Secret Seven collection.

  6. So, according to the info under the Oz's photo of Pyne & family, Felix is the wee girl sitting on her parents' laps, and Eleanor is the adolescent boy to the far right. Hmmmm.

    1. Quite so.

      Obviously the paywall gets superior copy.


  7. So Andrews accepted pokie lobby money to overturn Labor's mildly anti-pokie legislation.

    What a sewer rat. I think it's time to restart the 'pour a beer down a pokie machine' campaign.

    1. And so the fucker fucked families and caused misery and not for a nanosecond thought of the hypocrisy involved. But the pond did love the concluding par in your link Anon:

      A Clubs NSW spokeswoman denied the contributions were intended to influence Coalition gambling policy, saying they were given for "no particular purpose".

      Well if they're for no particular purpose, the pond has urgent need of funds and donations with no particular purpose are welcome here. Come to think of it, the entire country might want donations with no particular purpose.

      Is it always the fundamentalist Christians that are mired the deepest in hypocrisy and shekels in the temple?

  8. So clearly, Pyne's father died of shame.


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