The pond's heart skipped a beat at the news - BuzzFeed was ahead of the reptiles of Oz in terms of hits ... even if they refused to count it as 'news', as if anything in the Surry Hills 'leet Pravda counted for news ...
The pond picked up the tweet above, while reading Jason Wilson's Rightwing media doesn't need to be popular. Just ask Mark Latham ...
The pond is always pleased when someone else pauses to admire the reptiles. It's a lonely business and some people look on the activity as unpleasant, surreal or downright weird, kinky and peculiar.
There was once a snake-owner in the family and he received many a strange look. The pond isn't sure that Wilson is sold on the hobby, but he seems to find some consolations...
At least he spends some quality time with the reptiles and finds some that he admires, though perhaps 'admires' isn't quite the right word ...
Now being a screen cap, the pond feels compelled to link to Daryl McCann's paranoid bilge, which is a ripper ...
As soon as an opening like "the totalitarianism of PC rectitude" smacks the pond in the eye, the pond has to congratulate the discerning Sparrow for spotting someone with deep alimentary canal problems ...
And linking to BuzzFeed about the weirdness of Daisy Cousens shows a nice willingness to share amongst reptile lovers .. why, they score more hits than the reptiles of Oz, don't ya know ...
But here's where the pond must pick a bone with Sparrow. Sure he mentions all the usual suspects, the Bolter, the dog botherer, Johnsy, Flinty, Latham-outsider Deano, but there's no mention of hapless, useless old Akker Dakker ...
Yep, where once the old fart would have been front and centre with other reptile heroes, these days he's slipped off the radar ...
It's not for want of trying. After all, he does fit the profile, and he keeps on doing is best, which is to say to maintain an infantile rage and indignation ...
Surely that's not too far from McCann?
A mention of Orwellian big brothers, and the offering of a print bully talking of bullies, while offering up a typical bullying insult about the "gender confused" ...
A mention of Orwellian big brothers, and the offering of a print bully talking of bullies, while offering up a typical bullying insult about the "gender confused" ...
And days after the murmuration of reptiles had spent their columns in rapt adoration of the angry Sydney Anglicans - get your complimentary women here! - Akker Dakker joined the flock ...
Yes, this is where the angry Sydney Anglicans have ended up - in company with African fundamentalist bigots, and in company with News Corp dinkum coal-loving bigots always willing to scribble about the gender confused ...
It's why the pond reserved a special horse laugh for the angry Sydney Anglicans. You see, while their website remains as dead as a dodo, the angry Anglicans have decided that there should be a new form of Jensenism, and they've taken to tree-killing to spread the news ...
And that's why the pond had that horse-laugh, coming as it did in that line about not springing from bigotry, hate and fear ... when in reality, the entire point of the campaign, as conducted in and by News Corp has been a celebration of bigotry, hate, fear and loathing, and talk of bullies and the gender confused ...
So that's where the angry Sydney Anglicans have ended up ... in the company of reptiles who regularly dish the dirt ...
Of course Akker Dakker is only following in the footsteps of the likes of another over fifty angry white male, Miranda the Devine.
The Devine is usually more comfortable defending the Pellists and their abuse of children, but she produced the results of a faux survey last week, which was featured in the pond, and attracted the attention of Crikey here for her dubious column...
The Devine is usually more comfortable defending the Pellists and their abuse of children, but she produced the results of a faux survey last week, which was featured in the pond, and attracted the attention of Crikey here for her dubious column...
They wouldn't release the methodology or the questions?
These bullying, barbaric, angry Xians play it hard, with their cheating, their dissembling and their lies, all in the name of a deep-seated hatred and bigotry ingrained since the days of their camel-herding ancestors ...
Well it being Akker Dakker's turn this day, somehow climate science ends up in the same piece as SSM ...
Surely Mr Sparrow, this piece of mumbo jumbo, with the ritual invocation of Orwell and the thought police and all the rest of the nonsense means Akker Akker is up there with the paranoid loons of Quadrant?
You ended with this point ...
But Akker Dakker is more than up to the challenge in his concluding remarks, and he manages to drag in Big Sister - the angry old male's fear of the castrating woman - and Shakespeare too!
Indeed, indeed. How would it be possible to understand the one comment Akker Dakker had attracted at time of writing, without recalling the history of homosexuals in Nazi Germany?
And there's the company the angry Sydney Anglicans keep, the company of the Waffen SSM ... full of anger, hate, bigotry, fear and loathing ...
Surely you see now, Mr Sparrow, why attention should be paid ...
LINDA: Then make chairman Rupert your father, Biff. Or Quadrant! You can’t do that, can you? I don’t say he’s a great man. Akker Dakker never made a lot of money. His name might appear in the paper, but he’s not the finest character that ever lived.
But he’s a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He’s not to be allowed to fall into his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must be finally paid to such a person. You called him crazy...
BIFF: I didn’t mean...
LINDA: No, a lot of people think he’s lost his — balance. Some thought he never had any. They thought he tottered around like an angry drunk shouting at clouds and gays. But you don’t have to be very smart to know what his trouble is. The man is exhausted.
HAPPY: Sure!
LINDA: A mentally small, corpulently enhanced man can be just as exhausted as a great man. He works for chairman Rupert thirty-six years this March, opens up unheard-of territories to their trademark, and now in his old age they never give him a place in the fickle front page digital splash ...
HAPPY (indignantly): I didn’t know that, Mom.
LINDA: You never asked, my dear! Now that you get your spending money someplace else you don’t trouble your mind with him.
HAPPY: But I gave you money last...
LINDA: Christmas time, fifty dollars! To score a little white powder for relief and to fix the hot water it cost ninety-seven fifty! For weeks he’s been hidden inside the digital edition, like a beginner, an unknown!
BIFF: Those ungrateful bastards!
LINDA: Are they any worse than his sons? When he brought them business, when he was young, they were glad to see him. But now his old friends, the old editors that loved him so and always found some column - communism, the Russian peril, the joys of Pellism - to hand him in a pinch — they’re all dead, retired.
He used to be able to scribble six, seven furious columns and blog entries a day in Sydney town. Now he just does re-treads, writing about angry Sydney Anglicans and gays and climate and coal and George Orwell. Then he takes his keyboard out of the car and puts them back and takes them out again and he’s exhausted. Instead of walking he talks now. He drives seven hundred miles in search of a column, and when he gets there no one knows him any more, no one welcomes him. And what goes through a man’s mind, driving seven hundred miles home without having scored a front page splash? Why shouldn’t he talk to himself? Why shouldn't he mumble about bullies, with his best bullying years behind him? Why? When he has to go to the Chairman and borrow fifty dollars a week and pretend to me that it’s his pay? How long can that go on? How long? You see what I’m sitting here and waiting for? And you tell me he has no character? The man who never worked a day abusively bullying the bullies of the world, but for your benefit? When does he get the medal for that? Is this his reward …to watch and wither inside, ignored by Sparrow, as the Devine and Peta the petulant always score the prime Terrorist splash?
And so on, with profound apologies to Arthur Miller for abuse of play and metaphor.
But such is the stuff of modern tragedy. It's so tragic, the pond should probably have put up a trigger alert ... and now wretches keep on comparing Akker Dakker to a greedy schoolboy always raiding the tuckshop ...
But such is the stuff of modern tragedy. It's so tragic, the pond should probably have put up a trigger alert ... and now wretches keep on comparing Akker Dakker to a greedy schoolboy always raiding the tuckshop ...
But isn't Akker Dakker a crystal gazer of the first water?
Doesn't Akker Dakker always manage a narrow escape?
Doesn't Akker Dakker urge on the fighting with a cry of "attaboy"?
And above all, doesn't Akker Dakker still want to be one of the reptile gang, racing after them with a cry of "wait for me"?
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