Where are "teh beez", there ought to be "beez", don't worry Hendo carries them in his noggin ...

(Above: a game for the whole family. See if you can spot the busy buzzing bee, and not confuse it with Amanda Vanstone).

So there the pond was, the radio on, and who should come over the airwaves in that magical centuries old trick, than Amanda Vanstone at Counterpoint.

Now it can be said that Vanstone is the worst host on ABC radio, talking over guests, interrupting them, forcing her own views down sundry throats, in a way that makes the likes of Phillip Adams, previously the worst host on ABC radio, seem quite genteel, inquiring and engaged.

Even more bizarrely, one of her regulars is Brendan O'Neill, who has been dubbed the European correspondent, even though he clearly loathes the very concept of Europe, and can't stand anything to do with Brussels, which is why he's perfectly poised to provide Vanstone with a Europe update.

Which naturally brought up the subject of the fate of "teh beez", because if there's one thing O'Neill hates worse than European technocrats, it's filthy, vile greenies and their filthy disgusting environmental ways ...

Not to worry, said O'Neill, all this talk of "teh beez" and their fate has been hyped up and exaggerated. There are many other solutions, including sending out humans to do the required pollination.

At this point, even Vanstone realised she had a prime fruitcake on her hands, about as scientific as a man with a pint of warm ale in a smokey smelly British pub, and she began to squawk about the number of blossoms on a tree, and the possibility of O'Neill heading up a department of human pollination.

It set the pond to wondering, whether there was anywhere in the world that had adopted the O'Neill solution, and it turns out there is, in south west China, in apple and pear orchards, where wild bees have been eliminated by excessive pesticide use (the current European concern) and a lack of natural habitat.

In recent years, farmers have been forced to hand-pollinate their trees, carrying pots of pollen and paintbrushes with which to individually pollinate every flower, and using their children to climb up to the highest blossoms. 

Eureka. The O'Neill vision, the O'Neill dream in action. Sadly, there immediately follows a depressing downside:

This is clearly just possible for this high-value crop, but there are not enough humans in the world to pollinate all of our crops by hand.

The rest of the piece, Decline of bees forces China's apple farmers to pollinate by hand, spends its time explaining how to save "teh beez", because you know a loss of "teh beez" would be catastrophic for humanity.

Oh you boring greenie ... how dare you try to stop the pond from recommending the Vanstone/O'Neill dialogue as the perfect example of two people talking about things they don't have the first clue about?

The comedy routine continued when Vanstone got indignant about the UKIP demand that pubs return to dirty smelly repositories of cigarette smoke, with O'Neill hastily assuring her no-one loved dirty smelly cigarette-saturated pubs, it was just the principle of the thing, the right of people to kill themselves and others without benefit of nanny state condescension or interference.

At some point, listeners might have assumed they were in a highly stylised Marx brothers comedy routine, but it got even better when O'Neill began to moan about the situation in Russia and how difficult it all was. You see, he didn't like Putin, who was inclined to be authoritarian, but the dangerous 'leets were just as bad, possibly even worse.

You see these nasty hurtful 'leets, like those wretched Pussy Riot people, said nasty hurtful things about ordinary Russian people, which made them feel really bad and which was terribly upsetting.

Sure Putin might be resurrecting a police state, rife with corruption, arranging the assassination of journalists, the fixing of elections, and conducting a reign of terror that brooked no dissent and frequently jailed opponents, or worse, but really saying hurtful things about bogans is shocking, reprehensible stuff ...

You couldn't make it up, and it made the pond realise it had in past years made a dreadful mistake, mocking the likes of Michael Duffy and Paul Comrie-Thompson, previous hosts of the program.

Oh Duffster, oh Paulster, please forgive the pond, we knew not what we scribbled. It turns out that you were a golden age, and now we live in the age of lead and Vanstone and Brendan O'Neill ... so incredibly childish and silly and petulant, with their diatribes about greenies and "teh beez", and Europe and cigarette-smoke saturated pubs and 'leets as bad as Putin, that the interviews you conducted seem but a long-lost dream.

On the other hand, you weren't so good at high comedy, so that's a minus.

Truth to tell, the pond even thought that Gerard Henderson might do a better job than Vanstone.

Well he couldn't do any worse ... and it's a measure of just how deep a breath the pond had to take before thinking such deep dark thoughts. A bit like Putin v, the 'leets, prattling Polonius versus gabby Vannie ...

One thing that O'Neill and prattling Polonius share in common is a deep fear and loathing of greenies.

To hell with "teh beez" if it means giving the Greens an even break, and so Hendo carries on at great length today in Coalition must be smarter when it issues preferences, which borrows heavily from Dr. Who's favourite pets, the Daleks: Exterminate, exterminate.

It's an exceptionally dull and tedious piece, even by Hendo's high standards of dullness, and it explains at great length how easy it is to confuse conservative voters.

It turns out these people are mere bleating sheep, incapable of working their preferences out for themselves. Why you might even call them mindless bogans, if you were willing to risk O'Neill's ire.

In August 2010 the Liberals knew Bandt would never support the Coalition. But it preferenced him over the Labor candidate Cath Bowtell in Melbourne. This was a bad decision from the Coalition's perspective. It is not in the interests of Australia's leading right-of-centre party to support leftists (like Bandt) ahead of social democrats (like Bowtell). It confuses Coalition-voting conservatives.

Yes, the poor dears are so easily confused, so easily mis-lead, so willing to walk off the beaten path without having the first clue about using their preferences. Truth to tell, the pond was also a tad confused, because the distinction between a party which promotes itself as the leftist light on the hill, which somehow has become social democrat, and a party of leftists which is just shy of Russian communism is a tad mysterious ...

Never mind, conservatives good, 'leets and leftists bad, the sheep bleat, as they do their best to mark their voting papers in the manner prescribed on high by their caring, salivating masters ...

Naturally it wouldn't be a Hendo column about the dangerous greenies if he didn't give the filthy Russian Leninist Marxist commie socialist pervert can a good kicking down the road, and so it turns out towards the end of the column ...

In the usual way, however, the real gold, the rolled gold so to speak, of Hendo's bizarre anal-retentiveness is best appreciated by reverting to his Media Watch where he affects a disguise by cross-dressing as a dog Nancy.

Not that there's anything wrong with that - after all, where would rugby league or Barry Humphries be without the art of cross-dressing - but here's a pond challenge for you.

You see, Hendo has a bee in his bonnet about the charges concerning Tony Abbott punching a wall, and in his column references his stern, triumphant tackling of David Marr but the spoilsports at Fairfax refused to provide a link.

So here it is, issue no 181, 10th May 2013, and you need to scroll down to get down to the substance, which turns out in the usual Hendo way, to be mere showground fairy floss, a spider's web of accusations, delusions and gossamer.

The correspondence in the end reduced David Marr to almost catatonic exasperation:

Where do you find the time? I could spend the day disentangling your dark suspicions and wonky logic but I have said what I have to say. Said it several times. The date of the punch was confused in the first edition of the essay and clarified in the second. The date of the Ku-ring-gai incident is the same in both. This correspondence (for me anyway) ends here.

Naturally this produced a fresh outburst from Hendo and a further reply from Marr.

Now here's the pond challenge.

Have a read of this nit-picking and carry on, none of which ultimately removes from the record the notion that Abbott might have indulged in a little flourish of boofhead bullying, but which is immensely revealing of Hendo's obsessive character.

And then say you're not moved by this golden oldie by First Dog (original and more First Dog here):

The point of course is that Hendo routinely mistakes the forest for the leaves.

Any man who can produce a death stare like the one he delivered to that Seven journalist (catch it on YouTube here), and is a former boxing jock who was a notorious political bovver boy on campus, has issues ... in his day he was an aggro ticking time bomb ... but at least it's only alleged he only punched a wall. He's done much sillier things since ... like racing for the doors when Craig Thomson's vote was mentioned ... and he's done much more covert and possibly scurrilous things, like the way he did down Pauline Hanson (not that the pond carries a flame for Hanson, but proper ways and means should have been deployed after John Howard gave Hanson's racist views a green light).

As for "teh beez"?

Have no worries. The millions buzzing around in Hendo's brain will keep the planet pollinated for centuries. If only Brendan O'Neill and Amanda Vanstone had known ... and better still, there is no known pesticide that can destroy them ...