In which the delusional reptiles saunter in the sun and celebrate Santa's helpers ...

The pond has of late been entranced as the old cultural warriors come out on the grass, soak up the sun, flaunt themselves and put on a most unseemly display.

And so it continues today:

Yep, they're so written out of history, they end up being the totally ignored PM of the country.

But then delusionalism and triumphalism are a common pairing in this sort of talk.

As an aside, it has to be remembered that Catholics, by definition, are required to believe in transubstantiation.

That's when a humble wafer turns into human flesh and ordinary wine of no real distinction becomes blood. At every communion service at every legit mass ... and the faithful proceed to devour it in a cannibalistic way.

Why anyone should pay attention to people so deluded, so clinically off the planet, is a constant puzzle to the pond.

But it has to be said that the pond loves eccentricity, and there's no one more eccentric than Sheridan.

Everything he writes suppurates with conflicting neuroses and tensions.

So let's get out the brass tacks, and listen to the moaning and the wailing and the keening. And what do you know, it's a hack pumping up the volume for another hack flogging a new volume, and no doubt the said hack will mention his own volume.

Why the pond understands one of the said hacks will even turn up on Phillip Adams to peddle their wares, but enough of that, let's get down with the current peddle:

Yes, and Australian fools supported Richard Nixon in the bombing of Cambodia, and the point is?

Well the point is they routinely support dumb foreign adventures and forays which turn into disasters, and Robert Menzies thought Adolf Hitler was one of the really great men of the century.

There's the trouble isn't it, in a nutshell. Nobody spends much time celebrating the people in the middle, the centrists, the ones who just want to have a cup of tea and a nice slice of cheese, eh Gromit?

And that's because the hard men need other hard men, so the cycle of hard men strutting their macho stuff can be perpetuated for all eternity.

Chamberlain? Just a dodderer.

And so the MOR's, if we may be so bold as to use an AM term, have to endure not just the commies and the fascists, but also the ramblings of crazed transubstantiation-loving Catholics, worshipping at the feet of a fascist like Franco ...

There was this clue amongst the Jesuits at Eureka Street, here:

After the Guernica-bombing atrocity came an antifascist protest meeting at Uni of Melbourne. Newman-College-based blackshirt claque headed by B.A. Santamaria tried to break it up, yelling ¡VIVA EL CRISTO RE! - Falangist slogan. Fascist? You betcha! See also James Duhig and Norman Gilroy.

Well you can ADB  Duhig here, and Gilroy here, but just let it be noted that men who like wearing frocks managed an accommodation with Mussolini, and for a considerable time with Hitler, and throughout have maintained a surly rage against gays and women's rights...

... while the commentariat warriors who consort with the men who wear frocks have been busy condoning all sorts of craziness in the war against communism, such that we replaced Russia in the quagmire of Afghanistan, thus having supported the United States in setting up the fundamentals of jihadism now making mischief around the planet.

But that's the trouble with warriors engaged on one side or the other, because for them it's the fight, and even now, looking back, the aim is to never give an inch, never recant, never apologise or say you're sorry, but to still carry the chip on the shoulder and the sense that you still aren't being given a fair go and a decent break ... as if the DLP was useful for something, as opposed to attempting to make over the country in a way that was just as retrograde as the Catholic church's regressive, repressive agenda ...

Jim Maher?!

Here's Jim Maher with Joe de Bruyn:

And here's Joe standing to applaud Penny Wong:

And there you have as good an explanation of why homophobia is still rampant in the ALP, as rampant in certain quarters as it is in the Liberal party.

And there you might also have explanation as to why Opus Dei is never mentioned, and never discussed in opinion pieces like this, when the blind fanaticism of the commies is rolled out for inspection.

Perhaps it's also because cilices don't suit some newspaper articles.

But if you search you can find the eccentricities of the cult, which are, it has to be said, up there with the group think of communism, as here:

The supernumeraries are celibate, and talk to the opposite gender as little as possible based on the logic that by doing so they will be less tempted to sin. The male centre is serviced by a female cooking and cleaning staff, who work in sections of the centre that are locked off in rotation so that they are never seen by the male inhabitants. In my time at the centre I never actually saw a single female employee despite them making every one of my meals. 
 I was told that those who undergo gender reassignment are selfish and inconsiderate of their families. Not a single person is openly gay in the entire school network. 
While progressive politics are playing out in the rest of the world, Opus Dei relieves itself of vulnerability to rational arguments. 
There is little opportunity for its doctrine to be challenged, and the all-encompassing environment of the centres is so self-affirming it is difficult to imagine change coming any time soon. 
In many responses, Vella stresses that this life is “the path that [Opus Dei members] have chosen”. In a strict sense, this is true: people choose to attend the schools and work at the centres. They choose to strap spikes to their thigh until it doesn’t bleed.
But I know better.

Will the planet ever be rid of fundamentalists of a religious and a political kind?

Probably not, but dammit, they make it hard to enjoy a decent slice of cheese.

And so, as we recall the perfidy of the pinko perverts, let's remember the profound stupidity of others:

15th July 1939! Stick that up the Hitler-Stalin pact talk.

By golly, the pond could be running this Ming the merciless nonsense every day of the week, or at least every day we head off to the reptiles of Oz to watch the lizards trample, and stomp down on the middle ground, while they bask in the sun, saunter around, and scoff down the wafers and wine ...