In which the pond relents and spends some quality time with the dog botherer's anal obsessiveness ...

Hallelujah, it's manna from jolly Joe heaven day ...

Really, did anyone imagine with such joy in the land - Greece just a distant memory, the budget emergency laid to rest, the apocalyptic financial crisis snuffed out with a wooden stake through the heart, China on the move, coal, coal, coal for the woorrrld - that there'd be a better time to make the pitch than with markets crashing with a dead thud like pigeons overdosing on rum-laced sultanas ...

Let the transfer of wealth via income tax cuts and an increase in the GST continue at a splendid pace, and let the mugs in Canning consider themselves johns in an elaborate sting.

And what better time for the pond to enjoy a lunch time treat, a whiff of the truffle-seeking snout, or should that be the moist dog botherer's nose, at play in his usual field of joy?

Say what? Apologies, he doesn't recall the unionist's name?

The likeliest place for Weisser to have turned up like the proverbial Murdochian bad penny was on The Drum, that haven for IPA types, shouty right wingers, and other banes of existence which mean The Drum is right at the bottom of the pond's barrel of pleasant viewing experiences ...

The resident stenographer, freedom boy, Anne Henderson, Michael Jensen, that cockroach of the airwaves Kate Carnell, Rowan Dean, Paul Sheehan, Greg Sheridan, the obnoxious David Miles, and so on and endlessly, tediously on ...

But when you do a survey of The Drum during the Heydon days - yes, Virginia, Santa will be opening his sack tomorrow and who knows what presents he will bring - as you can do here, there's no trace - thank the long absent lord for small mercies - of Weisser in recent times ...

It turns out that Weisser seems to have turned up on a Saturday morning, so desperate are the reptiles to turn up on the ABC, so determined are they to make it their ABC.

The "dial a reptile hack" attack was celebrated on Twitter ...

Only in reptile la la land could the mind-numbingly tedious, vapid Weisser be construed as televisual talent worth watching ...

And in the search for the name of the forgotten unionist, the pond turned up the Bolter, here.

And there discovered a portrait of the forgotten, nameless trade unionist - none dare speak her name - a close relative, no doubt, of Satan:

And a bonus, here's a portrait of the mind-numbingly tedious, vapid Weisser, as journalists talk to journalists and think that somehow constitutes journalism or current affairs, when it's really just journalists talking to journalists.

After getting suitably indignant about it all, the Bolter published a modest correction:

Correction: the clip calls the falsehood a lie. I think that’s wrong. It is a falsehood and the unionist said it unintentionally. We all make slips of the tongue.

Yes, we all make slips of the tongue, and strike the keyboard in a Gluckish way, and in this one-great nation, nobody would mind, being expansive and forgiving, in a Walt Whitman-esque way, and would move on.

But not your average anal retentive, compulsive obsessive ranting dog botherer:

What can we conclude about all this? Apart from the intolerance and the ongoing desire to conduct a trial up there with the Salem witch trials, with verbal slips pronounced heinous crimes deemed worthy of a burning at the dog-botherer's stake ...

Well the dog botherer is seriously up himself, in a preening, self-congratulatory way.

The pond has always found this sort of exhibitionism and self-regard, of the "I think we do a pretty good job" kind, often conceals a deep inferiority complex. The pond has usually found this most on display with short men - why do they persist in only going out with tall women? - and men with small penises, who often compensate by buying cars with very big exhaust pipes. It always brings the Freudian out in the pond, as does the sight of a comb-over ...

But what else is on view?

Well there's the standard dismissal of an uppity woman, and a denial of her right to express her views ... which is frequently accompanied by a bit of patting on the head of the "good for her", "good on you dearie", "god, I love a strong woman" kind ...

And there's the standard world view which allows no alternative world view, brooks no difference, and demands that everyone become another brick in the Murdochian wall ...

Fall into line, especially if you're a woman. Or there'll be muttering in the canteen of right-wing correctness.

Strong views are reserved for the masculinist reptiles of the world ...

But what is most astonishing, what recurs time after time, is the news that reptile journalists seem to spend all their waking time - even on a Saturday morning - watching journalists talk to other journalists on their ABC.

Mainly, it seems, so they can get barking mad, and spin a column out of the gossamer thinnest materials ...

And it's the mortifying lot of the pond to have been allocated the task, by the long absent lord, of watching the dog botherer go about the business of parading his anal obsessiveness.

Yes, the pond has been given the job of inspecting the dog botherer's excretions, as Germans are wont to do thanks to that little ledge they build into their toilets ... do you know the difference between “Tiefspüler” and  “Flachspüler” toilets? 

If you keep reading Kenny, and you want to understand the meaning of anal obsessiveness, it might be handy to learn ...

And now for a little relief - better than bran - a few old cartoons, with more Fairfax cartoons available at Satanic headquarters here ...

Ah, manna from heaven, gaffe central, and yes Virginia, let's see what Santa pulls out of his sack tomorrow as a reward for his little helpers ...