In which the pond spends some quality weekend time with the chief reptile bloviator for the lizard Oz and reveals a long hidden agenda ...

Hey, if the Bolter can, so can the pond, especially when correspondents provide tasty links.

Besides, that image sort of summarises what's about to follow, the surreal mood, the headless chooks flapping and squawking at the table ...

Or in other words, the thoughts of the chief bloviator for the reptiles of the lizard Oz ...

Oh the pond knows, the pond knows, a few weaklings flinched, their hearts began to flutter, they quavered and they quailed.

Not Kelly, not the bloviator supreme. Anything but that, even a stint in the tar pit ...

Not the man who thinks he's back in Dickens' day and is working for a penny a word and so the more blather, the more pennies tinkle in the till ...

Not the man who could have summarised his entire piece in a few simple words: I don't like this business of gay marriage, I don't like all this talk of gays getting married, I don't much like gays, because they seem to have some sort of agenda ...

But the pond thinks it important to examine the way that conservative forces are maintaining the rage and delivering the humbug, and why in Australia, it's going to take a long time for gay marriage to come about, never mind what the opinion polls are saying about the Australian consensus.

Kelly is in the vanguard of the rearguard action, if you'll allow the pond the humour of the juxtaposition.

So let's get cracking. It's long, it's tedious, it's exemplary bloviating, and no doubt the bloviator will call on anything to hand to bolster his cause ...

Freedom boy, Jesuit priests, ratbag conservative activist American jurists, and anything else that will serve the purpose and disguise the bigotry behind the dissembling ...

You there, lurking in the back row, stop wilting, and sit up straight. Shoulders back, stomach in, no slouching ...

We've only just begun, why we're barely a mile beyond base camp, but you should be grateful, we've got Freedom Boy out of the way.

Now pack those frogs back in the case, and let's resume the trek across the Andes.

It's time now for the legal brief, and a warning, any snoring will be severely punished. We know you're only doing it because it teases:

Oh dear sweet long absent lord, isn't that a marvel of fear-mongering? And somehow it seems to involve questions, doesn't it? As if asking questions will evoke all sorts of panic and hysteria and saucy doubts and fears, won't they?

But please, the light is fading, it's getting dark, too dark to see, and we have many miles to go before we reach Tiwanaku, and when we get there you might be short of breath.

Can we have a few more questions and perhaps the unbiased opinion of that noble legalist Scalia, and perhaps the opinions of a Jesuit priest?

Make it so, bloviator, and feel free to raise more questions:

And so it stands revealed, and it's left to the pond to decode the real meaning of that final par:

The core question remains: what is the real ideological objective of the same-sex marriage campaign?

Decoding now:  What is the real ideological objective of the gay agenda?

The pond is so pleased that question was asked.

Now we've already ruled out love and equality and all that childish, almost Christ-like idle chatter and about human rights.

People loving each other?

But they're gay - a faint shudder is allowed as Mr Kelly passes you a fine vintage port and you sip it in your comfortable leather chair - so let's cut to the chase.

The pond has already revealed something of the gay agenda, but please allow a reminder:

Uh huh. The bloviator knew it.

Forget all this talk of equality and love!

The fiends.

And the more they protest, the more they confirm their wicked agenda:

Uh huh. But at least now the pond can provide the answer to the bloviator's fearful, fear-mongering question:

The core question remains: what is the real ideological objective of the same-sex marriage campaign?

Gays want the tax-free status of a church, pink money, and recruitment literature in hotel rooms and letter boxes, so the whole world will turn gay. And where would that leave the Taliban and other fundamentalists of the Paul Kelly persuasion?

And thus by this point, any stray readers who have made it to the more remote parts of the medieval Incan mind, will finally understand why the pond was so pleased to have been given a link to a portrait of Kelly, the real Kelly, or perhaps the yearned for Murdochian hegemony where footballers can trot off to Hillsong, and return to explain that it was the Jews that killed Christ.

Stand up, stand up for a decent way of life: