Sunday, August 23, 2015

From thugby league to sunflowers, via a screeching Murdochian galah ... (on the seventh day, the reptiles must rest) ...

While on the subject of prattling Polonius, a kindly correspondent sent in these photos derived from Twitter:

Wonderful stuff and with a great punchline:

The pond would love to credit the heroic photographer, but alas google image search is slow and spoofs abound, but still the spirit is right ...

But enough of ancient glories because today, being a Sydney-sider, is tabloid Terrorist day and the competition for a year's supply of kool aid by the scribbler most nakedly in service of Chairman Rupert's business plan has really began to heat up.

Now anyone who has spent a nanosecond on these pages will know that contempt and indifference towards thugby league are in strong competition, but every so often, it can lead to wondrous sights:

Yes, once you've alienated the Chairman, he really does unleash the hounds, or the bats. Fly, my pretties, fly, you can see him urging, as he opens the window.

Oh well, flying bat monkeys, whatever, but what an unnervingly accurate portrait of the wizened one.

And there were more flying monkeys doing their master's bidding:

There's not even an attempt to hide the self-interest in the story:

The push has been discussed among some of the most influential figures in rugby league who remain furious at a range of NRL decisions, including cutting key stakeholders Fox Sports and Telstra out of the TV negotiations. 
Their anger was intensified after News Corp and the Seven Network partnered to give the AFL a record $2.5 billion television deal.

By golly, who'd want to be a thugby leaguer at the other end of an assault by a flying bat monkey?

As for the strength of the proposal, the flying monkey committed a fatal folly by acknowledging the grim reality behind the sledging:

In order for the NRL clubs to pass a vote of no-confidence in the ARL Commission they need a 75 per cent vote from the 16 existing clubs. The breakaway scenario ­remains highly unlikely but ­illustrates the current level of discontent with the NRL head office.

Highly unlikely. But the flying monkey bat surely does illustrate the current level of discontent with thugby leaguers in the Surry Hills bunker.

Look at this gaggle of stories:

And it's in pride of place in the tree killer edition:

When the Chairman embarks on a vendetta, he shows all the style, subtlety and nuance of a knee-capping Don Corleone ...

And speaking of flying bat monkeys, there was another in fine, screeching form:

Beacons of hope, saith the flying bat monkey, pouring a little white powder and confusing it with acid ...

And people wonder why the sporting crowd embraced the notion of booing Adam Goodes. Why they were just doing what the braying Murdochian press does every day of the week ...

But enough of the numbnut thugby leaguers, because the pond always yearns on a meditative Sunday for some higher class trolling, a trolling by a flying monkey bat that really establishes the bar for the Mordochians, and what better example than that increasingly shrill and desperate sounding imported Pommie monkey bat who litters the broadsheet the way that droppings used to litter the newspaper in the cockie cage at Tamworth.

Alas, we had a pet cockie who chewed at his wooden surrounds as diligently as Clint Eastwood in Alcatraz - these days the pond would not imprison any creature - but in its day the cockie was wonderfully entertaining, and when let out of his cage to roam the house, screeched and shat everywhere, and did a little jig of joy when fed his sunflower seeds ...  a corner of the yard was dedicated to the growing of van Goghian sunflowers as a special treat for the dancing boy ... which might help explain the screeching and the shatting from the Murdoch galah import:

Saying "cunt" is a term of endearment in the Latham way?

Yet the bold brave lad himself and his publisher can't bear to actually spell out the affectionate term "cunt"?

Pathetic really, and naturally the enormous twat - a man clearly with the potential to carry the communicable disease of foot in mouth - failed to ask any Australian woman whether "cunt" was a term of endearment.

Perhaps it would have been too difficult to arrange a visit to the nearest domestic violence shelter.

But the twat was keen to take the rhetoric even further, and associate mere common politeness, courtesy and decency with deranged fundamentalists who have taken of late to train travel on the pond's favourite Amsterdam-Paris express:

The engine of human progress?

So being able to say "cunt" and Zoo magazine are the beginnings of great truths, and fertile fields of dangerous thinking designed to create a liberating, risk-embracing intellectual climate in which great truths and breakthroughs are likely to be made ...

Yet the scribbler and his publisher are so politically correct all they can do is refer to the "C' word, while applauding a Swedish bigot for deploying the word "tumour" in a way that would suit an Islamic fundamentalist?

Such mental confusion, as the screeching cockies and the flying monkey bats work hard for their money.

But where does this culture of verbal violence garner its earliest most ardent political adherents?

Again the pond was sent a clipping from Twitter, and the evocation of the KKK was bemusing, especially as it involved sometime war hero Tom Uren (well at least to those who think being a POW was a special kind of service, though not The Donald):

And that's more than enough to chew on this meditative Sunday ... waiter, more sunflower seeds please ... and let's reassure the screeching cockie that the pond is in to sunflowers and thugby league and Zoo culture ...


  1. Brendan O'Neill certainly takes the cake for the silliest, most stupid piece I've seen on your blog for a long time, Dot.
    Having seen him on QandA last week i'm not surprised. He manages to string together the most outrageous guff that nobody seems to understand.

    What a wanker!

  2. But I agree with one thing he says: "how are you, you old cunt?" is pretty endearing to some people.

    1. an acquired taste perhaps Mercurial? Best restricted to the time when one is among friends and in no way is it reasonable to expect that the general populace should at this stage of their development or evolution into enlightened persons, be expected to suck it up as just another word.

      Brendo is a prick who forces his traditional and civilized white male privilege and that god given right that patriarchs have to offend into every other fucker in the universe and believes it is a good thing for him and his ilk to shove their own highly active sense of outrage into every orifice - not just the cunts - of the new civility that could provide us with a way of talking to each other to find solutions to the problem of how we live together in peace on this planet.

  3. As noted at Chez Cash "You mean, people went to hear Latham and not be offended?".
    Perhaps "twat" is lower on the scale, though I reckon Isaac Israels would have been bemused to be confronted by a shaved one. However, a bearded twit can rise ire like that of Wild Bill over cards with Jack McCall.
    Sport, eh? John Keane's superb tome The Life and Death of Democracy observes in his Memories from the Future that the historian in 50 years time will recommend, for electoral success,
    Take an interest in sport. Own a team. Exploit the links between club ownership, advertising and national and global markets. Drone on about the importance of being 'practical' ...

    1. The pond was of course trying to out-Brendan Brennie, a Herculean endeavour, but hey it's Sunday, and that rock needed pushing back up the hill ...

    2. Bloody rocks! Where is Sisyphus when you need him?

  4. It being a meditative Sunday, it is worth remembering this quote from Isaiah 26:12 which neatly sums up the reptiles approach to 'journalism'.

    "But Rabshakeh said, Hath my master sent me to thy master and to thee to speak these words? hath he not sent me to the men that sit upon the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you?"

    1. Correction - Isaiah 36:12

  5. Annabel Crabb has an excellent takedown of O'Neil today.

  6. OMG is anyone feeling sorry for poor Mark Latham, the man who lost an election with a handshake.

    I'm listening to the gush of emotional man hurt that he came out with when he was 'attacking' and trying to deliberately offend Johnathon Green. I do wish he would get some help The aggressive hissy fits he throws about how unfair things are for him are so depressing.

    1. Their jabbering Jonathon played a short re-run of his jabber session with Latham on RN this morning - a bit of a snip to wet the waking listener's appetite to go hear it all and admire. Spare me. This as intro to a tiresome jabber chops chat with boring Brendan, again. As if! In this intellectual climate came the snooze button breakthrough!

    2. jabber? What is wrong with jabber? Or jibber for that matter. You old white blokes who can't come to terms with the feminazi's just gotta stop spewing your angry guts on the floor - it's not a good example to set for the kids.

      I was very amused by the snippets that not my favourite person Mr Green presented from that intellectual exchange that left Latham who has never experienced the death of child, nearly crying at the horrible people who don't give him credit for being a man who knows stuff about women and men.

      Spare me that sort of cry baby man with a thin skin.

      Sorry no empathy for a man who thinks that behaving the way he behaves in a Western Suburbs pub is the way a civilized person behaves when talking to a different sort of intellectual.

      I wonder does he take his wife with him when he talks like that at the pub.... or the 8 year old daughter? And do note that he brought his family into the discussion.

      I wonder if the daughter is being prepared to be a good woman and keep quiet and not upset sensitive men like Latham seems to be claiming to be along with his claim that a real man can be verbally agressive but he's a good man and apparently believes that it is a woman's fault if they, like Rosy Batty choose a 'wrongun'.

  7. Just an observation from a visiting alien.

    Why do so many terms of abuse in just about all your Earth languages involve reproductive or excretory functions? One is pleasurable, the other a basic necessity for healthy life.

    Is that the best you can do Earthlings?

    1. Being what I believe is a religious day, I give you one of you hymns which sums up the situation nicely.

    2. I rest my case.

      How to say 'fuck' in 29 languages. Around 4,000 to go.

      I can offer 'pus pus' from our nearest neighbour.

    3. Well you could go as an alternative with -

      Alien spawn, progenitors of destruction


      Devils breed, agents of evil


      Alien scum, parasitic worms of the universe.

      But no, we have to call them the names of genital paraphernalia.


  8. Henderson was discussing the book signing with Latham on 'The Insiders' this morning!

  9. The Shardy Shitslinger Award.

    One reason pollies are so on the nose is that we are paying them princely sums to screech like monkeys and throw feces at each other.
    Under cover of parliamentary privilege, some of them often mix sharply slanderous little shards of atrocious accusation into the turd-balls that they toss, with the intention of causing serious hurt rather than merely splattering.

    The Shardy Shitslinger Award acknowledges the federal politician who best and most repeatedly deploys gratuitously incendiary and inaccurately hyperbolic claims, particularly allegations of or allusion to serious criminal acts and historical atrocities, in order to score cheap points during parliamentary debate.
    Statements requiring retractions/withdrawals score automatically.
    Bonus points are awarded for breaches of Godwin’s Law.

    Were I a betting man, I would like the odds on the PM for this years Shardy Shitslinger (“I withdraw, I withdraw”).


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