From Easter Anglican porn to Kevin Andrews' satirical porn ...

(Above: the Sydney Anglicans advertising their Easter convention, here).

The pond has never had any trouble with BDSM. What happens between consenting adults, in the bedroom, in the lounge room, in the kitchen, or wherever else they might care to get it on, stays in the bedroom, the kitchen, yadda yadda ...

Yet surely the image above - noted by a pond reader - has a kind of casual graphic sick pornographic quality which would be at home in some of the more extreme fringes of the BDSM market.

In much the same way as you can pick any number of images from Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ and discover things that would get you banned from a lot of boards:

It was Catholics - of the cilice-wearing inclined kind - who got off on Mel's idea of a bloody good whipping, but it seems the same taste for blood-spattered imagery infests the average evangelical Anglican.

You have to wonder why a woman would want to be part of this porn fest, but at the same time you have to marvel at the ongoing capacity for the persecution of women by Sydney Anglicans, as outlined in Women clergy still struggle for acceptance. So much patriarchal hierarchical resentment, obfuscation, maltreatment, and humbuggery, so little time ...

It's so confusing it's enough to drive the pond to re-watch Brandon Lee in The Crow.

Oh dear. A hole in the hand. What would a Christian make of that show?

Often shot and stabbed, Eric miraculously heals and is ultimately reunited with his fiancee when she rises from the dead also, illustrating that love and legend can conquer death...
The premise promotes revenge and teaches that Satanic brute force triumphs over self-judged evil. A depressing, eerie mood is magnified by a continual downpour of rain and the fact that Brandon Lee was himself killed on-set during the film's production. (Christian Movie Reviews)

So there you have it. Sydney Anglican imagery is at one with pulp comic book Satanic imagery. That's what lights the wick of evangelicals.

Now how to persuade them to do it in private, perhaps in the bedroom, or the kitchen or yadda yadda ....

But enough of light-hearted loonery, because look, lo and behold, this Easter Friday, there's a genuine raving, fuck-witted loon traipsing across the bottom of the garden, and what has he left behind, like a pile of steaming excrement that imagines it's witty and satirical?

Let us draw closer, and yes, it's Kevin Andrews, and this cosmological day, he has deposited, like a wayward fairy, a little pile, or perhaps more grandly, we should say he's delivered unto the world A statement by the President of the Global Parliament.

Well you might have been wondering how long before a clown and a clone from the Liberal side of the fence had a go at Bob Brown, but why did they pick clod-h0pping Andrews.

Or was he just self-anointed as the saviour of antipodean humour?

In the olden golden days, the pond remembers when satire was satire, and giants like Dean Swift and Alexander Pope strode the earth.

In contrast, Andrews reminds the pond of what it's like listening to a lawyer try to tell a joke. Oh it's noble of them, and it's important that lawyers think they have a sense of humour - shared humanity, the comedy of life, wot wot - but under any circumstances, it's best not to let a lawyer tell a joke. As for satire ... well in the immortal words of Dr. Johnson, "Sir, Kevin Andrew's writing satire is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not done well, but you are surprised to find it done at all."

Of course we've yet to see the Kevin Andrews comedy show featuring his valiant work banning euthanasia, banning RU-486, taking a stand against stem cell research, and managing the Haneef affair with all the humanity of a Transylvanian werewolf.

But hang on a moment, let's cut to the comedy stylings. Sssh, if we're lucky we might just sneak in right as the comedy's winding down with a last wondrous satirical jab:

This inaugural session of the glorious Global Parliament has now concluded. We shall return here to the mountains of Peru, where the ancient Inca humanoids once conversed with nature and worshipped the planetary Gods, for our next meeting tomorrow. Please take your straw mats with you. If you lose your mat, you will have to make another one. You know, reduce your carbon footprint, etc etc.

Gaia is great!

Oh they'll be spilling their guts over that one at the front bar of the Duke of Wellington today, etc, etc. but so far as the pond is concerned, Sarah Palin carrying on about the lamestream media has nothing on lamestream Andrew. It has all the Inca archness of a man who wouldn't know a laugh if it bit him on the bum.

The doofus even thinks he's being funny when he goes Orwellian:

Finally, I wish to warn that the creature who scrawled the graffiti on the mud wall of this Parliament in Russian, “All Earthians are equal, but some Earthians are more equal than others” will be located and re-educated forthwith.

Oh dear. Is there anything worse than ripping off a writer who was genuinely witty, and who - tuppence says but we probably won't be able to resolve it this side of paradise - would have loathed Kevin Andrews and his Haneefian way of dealing with the world.

But if you want prime evidence that Bob Brown is a hapless utopian, you only have to read the snide snickering and cheap jibes offered up by Kevin Andrews this good Friday, showing he has all the vision, intelligence, and satirical skills of the gnat. Or perhaps an ancient Inca humanoid ...

Do politicians realise just how cynical they sound when they bleat things like this?

I am confident, in the new spirit of kindred cooperation that the complaints from a number of countries, including Israel and Taiwan, about their neighbours will amount to nothing. The old emotions of enmity and distrust will evaporate against the outpouring of overwhelming love and perpetual succour of Gaia.

Yep, on Good Friday, while Christians preach love and brotherhood (and a few even mention sisterhood, and a few just get into pornographic bloody images of holey hands), it's Kevin Andrew's cynical duty to inform us that everything is fucked, and everything will continue to be fucked, thanks to politicians like him and their continuing outpouring of overwhelming scorn and bitterness and perpetual fear and loathing and hatred. You know, fuck all this Xian jibber jabber about love and perpetual succour ...

Now there's an Easter message. By golly the pond feels faint and in need of an easter egg. Oh okay it's a few days early, and it's merely a pagan symbol involving a deviant bunny, but bugger it, after bathing in the thoughts of Kevin Andrews, the pond needs a hot shower and some chocolate ...

The Andrews piece ends thus, ever so wittily:

Translated into English from the original Esperanto. First Day of the First Month of Year Zero.

Somebody shoot that translator. Who needs the thoughts of a man who makes Zero seem like a deep philosophical insight ...

(Below: a few thoughts from satirical people on Kevin's hits and memories, and sob, soon enough he'll be back to fuck more than satire over with his narrow-minded bigotry).