They've sent in the clowns, don't worry, they're here, but the pond's timing is off as it's stuck in mid-air ...

There's no point blogging right at this moment, except perhaps to highlight this delicious Rowe cartoon, and remind punters there's always more Rowe here.

The timing's off. It's like blogging on Xmas Eve when all anyone wants to get to is present unwrapping time ...

The professional chattering classes only want to chatter about one thing - the pretty chastening experience - and the pond has absorbed the lessons. Thirty plus and it's a dead dog limping to the grave on three legs. Forty plus and it's a dead dog mortally wounded and waiting to be buried before the smell spreads.

Along the way, any semblance of good government went out the window, as Abbott indulged in yet another Captain's Call, and perverted whatever semblance of good policy that remained in his current government by indulging in blatant bribery and corruption, purely in the interests of his self-survival.

After this morning's wreckage is swept away, people will wonder about this story and its implications for the Abbott government:

That's in the Graudian here, which links to the original story in the Advertiser here, and in its own way, it's the most astonishing story to emerge, the naked venality and self-interest, and yes corruption in the policy-making of the Abbott government.

The 'Tiser headline says it all:

That hasn't been denied, and that's the stuff of banana republics and tin pot dictators.

But in the meantime, there's nothing for it, except to do a survey of the reptile headlines:

The useless fish and chip wrappers are as out of date as the pond, though what fun it is to see Abbott jostling for space with Nemo.

Only one rag abandoned the sort of objective tone to come up with dire fear-mongering. Yes, the Daily Terror can hold its head high, if that's possible while sauntering in the cesspit:

Still as feral and as crazy right wing ratbag paranoid as ever. Given the editor a Sir Duke award ...

As for upmarket, classy broadsheet reptiles, what irony that their very own Newspoll should turn up on this very day with such devastating figures:

Meanwhile, the Fairfaxians kept insisting it was Abbott v Turnbull, though big Mal had kept his head down and his powder dry:

Paul "magic water man" Sheehan was sounding slightly giddy and desperate:

Yes, there's a coherent approach for you. Something has to happen, someone has to go, the sharks must be fed, it's feeding time. Sheehan concluded with this immortal historical parallel:

...there is a precedent for removing a Liberal prime minister by the Liberal caucus. In January, 1971, John Gorton resigned as Prime Minister after failing to win a confidence vote in the party room. Gorton had been beset by losing seats at the 1969 election, poor polling, gaffs, and a torrent of speculation about the excessive influence of his private secretary, Ainslie Gotto. 
That's quite a precedent.

Yes, and they ended up with Billy McMahon.

Oh frabjous joy! Callooh! Callay! As one pond reader joyously noted, the golden glow of schadenfreude bathes everything in a serene beauty ...

The other Fairfaxians were in delusional full cry:

Suddenly the submarine decision is just throwing the crow-eater dogs a bone - because in a banana republic everyone expects pork barrelling, bribery and corruption - and in the same breath, the editorialist is urging Abbott to do the honourable thing.

As if a dog in a dog fight, cheerfully willing to subvert the opinions of his cabinet ministers and previously stated policies, is an honourable man, rather than a cornered cur ...

As for the reptiles, things were pretty much as usual:

Yes, they're still admitting it's an actual, genuine leadership crisis:

Of course, the discerning pond devotee will immediately move beyond John Howard and the reptiles celebrating presidential republicanism in Chinatown, without the slightest sign of irony.

Instead pond lovers will gaze in awe and perhaps with pity on the genuinely poignant sight of the bouffant one, still pandering, still forelock tugging, still living in hope and delusion:

It's touching really, like an elderly dog owner who just can't bear the thought of putting the dog down.

Survive and prosper! Well there's not much point reading someone who's moved from servile to outright delusional.

As for the rest, it was just the usual yammering by the professional chattering classes:

Say what Jeff Kennett?

Yes Kennett wants big business to get involved in subverting the political process, as if there's not enough in the way of corrupt business practices already ...

It actually came as a huge relief for the pond to see at least one navel-gazer still whirling around in the digital flash of doom at the top of the page:

Yes, even at the height of the dog culling, the reptiles have found room for a clearly gruntled former executive director at the ABC to mourn sackings, and claim, for the zillionth time, that the ABC isn't the ABC it once was ...

Sad really. Cameron was farewelled back in 2009 by Margaret Simons at Crikey with ABC News revamp mooted as Cameron exits (may be paywall affected), which helps explain why Cameron felt the need to scribble "if only I still had my hands on the levers, things would be different, I tells yer"....

But really it's only a minor distraction, though it might come as something of a shock to Cameron to learn that paranoia and self-interest run deep in most large organisations ...

What's really happening is that we're in that lull before the opening of the Xmas presents, and then the sigh when it turns out to be just another pair of socks or stockings or a book that will join the pile the pond never managed to read ...

It's at times like these that it's always worth putting a game in the Xmas stocking so everyone can sit down and have a play, and what luck and joy that First Dog has provided a splendid game ideal for the remaining few hours we must wait (and remember as always more First Dog here).

Just remember, no matter how it turns out, it's a win. Just by playing the game you win. Especially if you happen to live deep in banana republic pork barreling crow eater land where the fearless leader can piss squillions against the wall on a Royal Commission, of all things, into uranium and nuclear energy: