The reptiles finally let the Caterist out of his handsomely taxpayer subsidised cage at 11am to blather on about the way the middle class doesn't need handouts, which is a rather uniquely rich gobbet of nonsense for a man leading a Ming the merciless research institute which has had its paw greased with a handsome flourish of taxpayer pieces of silver.
Even worse there wasn't one mention of bien pensant, suggesting that the Caterists are slipping..
Besides the pond had moved on to other distractions and entertainments, not least the reptile editorialist:
Well, silly readers of the reptiles might expect certitude, though in this vale of tears, the only certainty the pond was ever taught to expect was death, taxes being contingent on the quality of your legal and accounting advice (remember a donation to some institutes, such as the Menzies Research Centr,e are tax deductible, meaning those poor mugs out in la la land are subsidising the rich giving to the nattering class to natter on about the importance of keeping the rich in perk land).
But who could resist the siren song of the reptile editorialist, and what a fine example of "gotcha coming and going" it was, though presented by the reptiles of Oz as an allegedly serious editorial ...
Who else could juxtapose "authoritative" with the notion that paying attention to something "authoritative" would result in obsession, superficiality, debilitating timidity, uncertainty and certain kinds of shyness?
What other newspaper would urge politicians to avert their gaze from the paper, while at the same time urging them to listen to the paper?
Is it any wonder that politicians are confused?
It seems that the reptile editorialist has given up on the task of reading fellow reptiles ...
There, reptiles, that's what Malware's done with his new job ...
Yes, the man who would never conduct a scare campaign is now busily engaged in a scare campaign.
Poor bromancer, it's a dismal tale, and the reptiles are going all jelly and nervous nelly ...
Poor bromancer, it's a dismal tale, and the reptiles are going all jelly and nervous nelly ...
It was at this point that the pond decided to turn to the readers of Oz, the mad fools, deeply addicted to the kool-aid, who actually fling money at the reptiles in a vain attempt to create some substance for the business model ...
The impending ides of March began to sound exceedingly ominous ...
Sob, will no one speak for Malware? Hath he not eyes, hath he not hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections passions? Is he not fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, co-payment required, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer coal-fired power stations, and does he not get his broadband by reliable copper?
If his copper corrodes, does he not develop a patina? If you tickle him, does he not laugh at HFC as a substitute for fibre?
It seems not ... for on and on they ranted ...
Now on one level, this merely confirms that the kool aid the reptiles peddle is the genuine thing. Accept no substitutes and soon you could be ranting at Malware in fine reptile reader style.
Some might find the capacity of the entire Oz letters column online to sound like chanters at Jonestown or the killing of the beast a tad unnerving ...
But at the same time, it shows the monster that the reptiles have created, rather like the cuckoo that's run amok in the GOP in the United States ...
Who'd have believed that Malware would run into trouble so quickly and so comprehensively?
And it's largely thanks to the nattering negativity of the reptiles and their Bolter outliers ... yes, he was at it again last night, still yearning for Abbott, still destroying Malware ...
And so there's nothing for the pond to do, but to sit back, sip the heady brew, and sing a song:
If you like Piña Coladas,
And getting your copper caught in the rain
If you're not into broadband, if you have half a ponce brain
If you like reading reptile polls at midnight, in the dunes of the cape
I'm the Malware that you've looked for, write to me, and we'll escape ...
If you like Piña Coladas,
And getting your copper caught in the rain
If you're not into broadband, if you have half a ponce brain
If you like reading reptile polls at midnight, in the dunes of the cape
I'm the Malware that you've looked for, write to me, and we'll escape ...
Now will we reach phase two? The return of Abbott to conduct the general election?
Oh be still beating heart, and just enjoy the tax debate, and Moir, and more Moir here ... but shouldn't there be a fresh round of capital cartoons making capital gains jokes?
Oh be still beating heart, and just enjoy the tax debate, and Moir, and more Moir here ... but shouldn't there be a fresh round of capital cartoons making capital gains jokes?
Sob, will no one speak for Malware? Hath he not eyes, hath he not hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections passions? Is he not fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, co-payment required, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer coal-fired power stations, and does he not get his broadband by reliable copper?
ReplyDeleteZZZinger!Almost had me dropping a Hail Mary for poor Mal.
Between rabid conservatives,headless reptiles,climate change,terrorism,religious fundamentalism,failing commodities,ancient copper,the hole in the roof and the price of sourdough and popcorn,the earth is gonna end up a death star before the next election.
Moir's Planet Quacko is still doing it for me.
"Who'd have believed that Malware would run into trouble so quickly and so comprehensively?"
ReplyDeleteOh me, me, pick me !
Ever since the Godwin Grech fiasco, hasn't it been bbo* that Malware is a dead loss ?
bbo = bleedin' bloody obvious, a fine traditional Aussie saying.
I was unaware the lawyer, Chris Murphy, has a deep admiration for Turnball.
ReplyDeletehttps://twitter.com/chrismurphys/status/701684348873940992