In which the pond is alarmed to learn that the Caterist latte luvvies are funded by the latte luvving Department of Finance ... along with other fallout from the greenieocalypse ...

Sometimes there are good ones in honour of the day and the hour.

Sometimes there are ones that are pathetic.

The Age's effort surely has to join the ranks of the pathetic.

And if this is a gag that's meant to catch punters out for a moment, why did that word find its way into the address?

http://www.theage.com.au/comment/satire/mountain-high-wycheproof-honours-famous-citizen-peta-credlin-20150331-1mc4pc.html

Satire?

Alexander Pope and Dean Swift would be rolling in their graves ...

Better to leave the satire to the professionals ...

... who always honour their sources ...

Indeed, and more Pope here ... because a poodle's intrinsically funnier than an Easter island statue ... and sometimes you don't even need a poodle ...

And more Rowe here.

Meanwhile, the greenieocalypse has put the frights into the Murdoch reptiles ...

Eek look at them ... picture of greenies ...

Picture of heroic Murdochian reptiles ...

Yes, it's time to ferret in the storage area under the stairs and dig out the cricket bat or the jolly hockey stick ... then let the game begin, and remember the only good zombie is a dead zombie ...

First let's celebrate the Daily Terror going at it hammer and tongs ...

Nimbin? Not Nimbin. Oh say it isn't so ... but how strange not to notice all this when the Nationals were ensconced in those northern seats ...

But the Terror was just warming up, because, as we learned from Media Watch this week, conflating beaten-up distorted news with rabid ratbag opinion is a Terror speciality.

How exasperating it must be for the Terror to discover that all the jibber jabber about Luke Foliage and other fun saw the greenieocalypse gain fresh, fearsome, frightful strength:

Indeed, indeed, there you go, the Caterists, in full abusive flight, and what's worse, it turns out that little Timmie Bleagh is himself a latte belt luvvie living in Newtown amongst the zombies, and the entire Terror staff work in Surry Hills, known to all as zombie central.

The pond demands that the entire News very limited news staff immediately decamp to Penrith, for fear that staff might actually sneak out for a Surry Hills coffee, or even worse, a Surry Hills snack, it being well known that the greenie virus is transmitted via food ...

Meanwhile over in kool aid cult land, the editorialist takes a stern view:

How about that?

The pond particularly enjoyed that line about worrying about coal-seam gas mining thousands of kilometres from where they live ...

The reptiles, being above the fray, probably didn't notice that a company was at one time contemplating fracking in St Peters ... Sydney drillers won't rule out fracking ...

That's actually a couple of kilometres from the pond, not fucking fracking thousands ...

And how about motorways designed to alleviate congestion for commuters who can't afford inner-city homes trying to get to work from the outer suburbs ...?

Actually, as noted yesterday in the pond, one of the big WestConnex publicity ploys in the run up to the election was how the good burghers of Burwood might slash a little commute time off their run to the airport, presumably to carry out their FIFO activities in better style...

Can't afford a house in Burwood? Strange, the median house price at the moment is a humble $1,700,000.

Talk about struggle street struggling to get to work ...

As for good old Marty Ferguson ... here's a story in Crikey:

There's more - you know how to google - but let's thank the long absent lord there's no conflict of interest with Marty, though the pond did relish this timeline that wrapped up the Crikey story:

Of course the average reptile can't see any problem with snout in trough. That's what they aspire to, reptilian dreams of Murdochian wealth, as they remain locked in their Surry Hills dungeon pounding on their keyboards filled with hate and bile, denied a latte for fear of greenie infection.

But could any of them surpass the mistress of hate and bile herself?

Yes, the deeply neurotic Devine gets stuck into the greeniocalypse ... and you can get an idea of the style of the blather by the cartoon the Terror decided to run with her rant:

Uh huh, and Murdoch la la land is gay friendly, and stereotypes of butch dykes are dead ...

What's even funnier is the way that the Devine and the reptiles are at odds. You see, the reptiles are onside with Marty, and want fracking to go ahead outside the reptiles' Surry Hills bunker, while the Devine spends much of her piece explaining how CSG has ground to a halt, thanks to the wonderful Mike Baird, and his buy back of licenses, and then lordy lordy, she goes positively pink ... weirdly socialist ...

On coal seam gas, despite the assessment by NSW Chief Scientist Mary O’Kane last year that the CSG industry can be safely managed if properly monitored, too many people have too many doubts. A public inquiry into the industry could allay fears, as well as the adoption of an American-style system of land ownership under which landholders have the right to refuse drilling on their property and also at least partly own the resources underground.

And it would be remiss of the pond not to celebrate the Devine's celebration of the divine right of sportsmen to get on the piss and to get shit faced, because where's the harm?

Do gooders get stuffed,” Warnie tweeted the nags and punishers. “Straya is the best place in the world, not politically correct, keep it real. Aussies celebrate properly ! #thirsty.” Cricketers are not monks. Alcohol is not illegal. Humans have celebrated with mind-altering substances since time began. 
Our culture has chosen alcohol as our poison and most Australians manage it fine, with the odd experience of bed spins and hangovers a good deterrent for continued over-imbibing. 
Demonising the demon drink is not going to stop people getting wasted. They’ll just get wasted on something else, like ice, or pot, far worse in every way.

Hey Warnie how about you head up to the Cross and get blotto? Hang out with the thugby boofheads and bang a few heads together for fun ...

Oops, sorry ...

What's that? It was the demon drink wot done it and the Terror wot cleaned it up? Seems it was ... even though the demon drink is entirely harmless ... the poison of choice ...

Now let's leave the recalcitrant churlish comment that Clover Moore might have had something to do with it, and go with the flow that it's thanks to the Terror that the Cross is fixed.

That'd be - to quote the Devine - the chattering editorial classes that fill the Terror with their laments, the wowsers and the prohibitionists, the nagging leftists of the social Murdochian media, still clinging to the Protestant ethic that should have gone the way of organised religion ...

Or some such thing.

All of which leaves the pond profoundly bemused. Do the reptiles understand the depth of their neurosis, their infinite capacity for confusion and mixed messages?

Grog leads to trouble in Cross, here have another one courtesy the Devine and Warnie?

Meanwhile, in all the excitement, the pond quite forgot to mention that the Caterists have now reached their correct intellectual level, which is peddling fraudulent sociological analysis for the tabloid Daily Terror ... padding before you get to the sports pages ...

Interalia, there's a lot of guff about the cultural divide and latte luvvies, which is in reality just another example of the Caterists' inherent stupidity.

Yep, it's a thought crime to like coffee, to have no religion, to earn money (who'd have thought that in aspirational liberal Murdochian la la land), or to care about the planet.

And then came this:

Greens voters are far more likely to earn their living from the government purse, directly or indirectly, than from private industry.

Now that's fucking rich, coming from a wanker booted out to the pasture position of executive director of the entirely useless and unproductive Menzies Research Centre ... which operates out of the corner of Blackall and Macquarie Streets, Barton, ACT ...

Go on public servant Bartonites, earning your living from the government purse, next time you see a Caterist, shout him a latte, or just shout at him ...

Or how about you just provide a link to grants awarded by the Department of Finance, inter alia to the likes of The Menzies Research Centre Limited to the tune of $239,764 dollars and 80 cents.

For the conducting of roundtables and seminars on latte luvvies, the development of a website to disseminate information on latte luvvies, for the conducting of research on latte luvvies, and covering general expenses, including but not limited to the purchase of latte in order to understand the latte luvvies' mindset.

What a bunch of wankers ...

Here have another one ...

And while we've stopped to slurp down a Wilcox, here have another one, and then get as pissed as a parrot on a rotating shout of Wilcox cartoons here.