Day 39, and everything's rooned said Moorice ...

Ah that's better, nothing like starting the day with a Pope and a horse's head in the bed, and you can do the same by bookmarking Pope's gallery here ...

Friday's usually a slow day for the pond, as the reptiles slumber on their hot rocks and the pond begins wrapping up the week, getting ready for the big weekend edition, and the soon to follow budget.

Oh sure, there's Tony Abbott yammering away in the background, drawing attention to himself yet again - it's all about moi, moi, moi - but the pond would usually try a little filler, such as  John Boehner's bon mot about Ted Cruz: "Lucifer in the flesh. I have Democrat friends and Republican friends. I get along with almost everyone, but I have never worked with a more miserable son of a bitch in my life."  (gather more moss here).

But this Friday is momentous because there are some days when a giant gets down from his position as a world famous climate scientist and proud, preeminent holder of the premiere prominent position on the pond's banner, to walk in disguise amongst ordinary men, drinking milk and upholding ordinary decent picket fence values with a voice that freezes the blood of the wicked:

(And more Wilson McCoy at his very own web page here).

Yes, drum roll maestro, trumpet blast, and perhaps a burst of the mighty organ Richard Georg Strauss, if you please, let it linger a little before it dies away completely, because today the pond is graced by the presence of the mighty Moorice ...

Now the pond knows what a few cynics might be thinking. 

In this day and age, as Liberal and Labor state governments do deals with developers and conspire to pack the rats into the big cities in towering apartment blocks, talk of white picket fences is beyond the valley of the delusional... unless you count the pickets for the balcony on the penthouse floor, dressed in as a post-modernist, post-ironic, reflexive gesture.

But that's our Moorice, and that's why the pond always listens with deep awe and respect to what maestro Moorice has to say. And what joy that sometimes he leaves aside his position as the world's greatest climate scientist to sort out all the social evils that beset ordinary folk ...

Ah, the pond realises it was wrong to use that Phantom metaphor. Sure, Moorice moves amongst the ordinary folk, shouting imprecations and dire warnings, but doesn't this evoke his mind set better?

By golly, they're everywhere, these leftist cards, flying through the air, rooning everything, just as Hanrahan and Moorice say ...

Let us continue with the attack of the cards ...

What a cathartic cleansing, what an heroic shouting at clouds. Now feminists and leftists, please line up for your punishment ...

Oh indeed, indeed ... ow ow ...

Truly, the pond rarely gets great days like these, and especially on a Friday. The pond owes the reptiles and Moorice a deep debt of gratitude.

What's more, the pond rarely gets a chance to run one of the most venerable memes on the full to overflowing intertubes with absolute righteousness, fairness and a sense of truth and insight ... and yes, poetic justice ...

Meanwhile, over there in the real world, what's that the pond sees? Why it's a Rowe cartoon, portraying a fine exponent of the art of the picket fence (and more Rowe here).