Tuesday, April 03, 2018

In which the pond insists on doing a Polonial catch-up, and if you don't like it, canine droppings to you ...


Ah Tamworth, majestic former centre of the known universe, now abandoned by the scurrilous pedlar of traditional family values …while back in the heartland, as people come and go, there's whispering about the nature of a man who would drop his new partner and his (possibly, who knows?) unborn child in the bucket …

The office remains in Peel street, but the pond didn't have the heart to film it. Why remind the good folk of Barad-dûr, the Dark Tower, in their time of trial and suffering?

But enough of holiday pleasantries. The pond trusts that everyone had a good time, and that they have acted on the wise words of the Terror editorialist yesterday …



When in doubt, switch the Murdochians off? Has there ever been wiser words?

The pond knows it should switch off the Murdochians, and the day is coming when it will have to scale back or abandon its addiction to the pleasures of the herpetarium …

Simply switch it off. How simple it sounds, how easy it should be. But the pond continues in its addiction, and not just to rich dark chocolate.

While the pond was away the reptiles were tortured and up in arms about many matters. There was that damned greenie Pope, always yabbering on about climate change and not even knowing the nature of hell, when as everyone knows that was sorted out back in the 1950s …


And there was much advice offered up to Malware, and the reptiles let the major Mitchell out from behind the paywall, and the pond could spend the next week dining on the feast of festive Easter fare, and why not?

And speaking of that, why should the pond give up on its addiction to prattling Polonius? 

Just because his wise words were published days ago, and Polonius loyalists have already read the latest thoughts and moved on is not a good and sufficient reason for the Polonial blog of record to abandon him …

These insights are timeless, and for the ages. What's a few days late when Polonius is on the march and full of prattle? Sure, it means others must wait in line, but that's the way it is when the royal courtier is on parade, forelock tugging and devising his apologetics ...



Now the pond hesitates to intrude just as Polonius is about to go into full history teacher mode, with stern admonitions and much ostentatious display of rich historical learning.

But there was something about that header that had a remarkable appeal.

Nick McKim would be in jail if Australia were a fascist state

Is there a hint of yearning in that line? Is Polonius really saying Nick McKim should think himself lucky, because if either I, Polonius, or the Mutton Dutton had the right sort of powers, we'd throw this insolent devil into the clink?

Should the header have read Just think yourself lucky, Nick McKim, and all you greenie devils, that the time has not yet come, but it will, soon enough, and oh what a reckoning there will be … just like the good old days of the 1930s …

Hmm, the sub might have had a word or two about the length, and so to the Polonial bird in full featherless flight …

Now will there be any mention of Australia's very own gulags? Ah yes, whenever there's a servile apologist required, Polonius is your humble servant ...


Be still, beating heart.

Did Polonius just argue that abuse and rage were in appropriate and what was needed was considered advocacy, and arguing of case with conviction supported by evidence, and then end the piece by talking of dog shit?

DOG SHIT, my good sir, did you just say DOG SHIT?

Oh sure, Polonius dressed it up with his usual wit and inimitable sense of style by talking of "canine droppings", but the pond comes from up Tamworth way, and there a spade is a spade and a shovel is a shovel, and they're used to shift canine droppings …which is to say, and not to beat about the bush, dog shit.

And unless there's some other explanation of 'canine droppings' - perhaps someone unwisely fed the pooch chocolate at Easter, which as everyone knows is not good for canines - then it rather seems that Polonius has shot his own argument in the foot and anyone might launch an argument by calling someone a bird brained dog shit fascist.

Perhaps not, perhaps the Polonial lesson seems clear enough. McKim should just have called the mutton Dutton an autocratic authoritarian totalitarian and all would have been well in Polonius's universe … you know, as a way of evoking the totalitarian legislative and gulag droppings that drip regularly from the mutton Dutton's racist mouth …

And since the pond is still stuck back in Easter la la land, why not a suitable blessing from the Pope, with more blessings here in a new and improved format?


And while the pond is clearing the decks of surplus fun, here's the latest NY cover as a shout-out to all the gluten intolerant in Uralla …by golly, how those buns crumble in the hand ...




3 comments:

  1. "... there's whispering about the nature of a man who would drop his new partner and his (possibly, who knows?) unborn child in the bucket"

    Oh dear, oh dear. This just couldn't be so, could it ? Not our Barnables ...

    Good to have you back in fine form DP, and winning gold by much more than a touch. Nice photo of the centre of the universe, too.

    And great to know the Prattler's prescribed course of study that we all have to undertake before we can get our Polonial Licence to use the word 'fascist'.

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  2. I look forward to Gerard's remarks when one of his colleagues calls McKim a 'watermelon", Red on the inside, because of course Red = Stalin etc etc.

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  3. Nice try, G-Man, but it's just angry old man shouting at clouds stuff. Logic fail at the very first hurdle.

    Dutton isn't Hitler, therefore McKim is wrong. Classic strawman fallacy, which Polonius goes on to support with a bunch more fallacies (not limited to) - composition fallacy, ignoratio elenchi, suppressed correlative, appeal to authority, argumentum ad misericordiam, and most importantly for a reptile, the thought terminating cliché.

    Polonius might be wrong, or right. But you would never be able to tell from this pile of glurge.

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