Day 51 of MUC and day 4 of MOC, and more examples of generosity, grace and congratulations flutter like rose petals from the bilious Devine and the panhandler ...

The pond would have liked to focus on the important issues of the day, but the papists have taken care of that, and more papal follies here ...

Instead the pond has been moved to look at much more important issues ...

Such as the sociopathic way a Catholic fundamentalist of the weird Devine kind responds to the recent Logie given to Waleed Aly ...

Now in the pond's mind, anyone who accepts Islam as their religion by definition has a screw loose.

But is it appropriate for a Catholic fundamentalist who believes in transubstantiation, miracles, virgin births and the rest of the goat and camel herder malarkey to talk of loose screws? Is there a meter that records this sort of nonsense?

What emerges of course is more of the anger, bile, resentment, bitterness, ethnic hostility, angst, fear and loathing which has already graced the pond's pages, courtesy the Bolter and barking, howling, whining Caroline...

Now there's a strong case that for the Bolter it's sour grapes of the envious kind ...

Yes, folks, in case you missed it: Andrew Bolt has this year moved his much-treasured national corroboree The Bolt Report from Channel Ten to the more open landscape of Sky News Australia, whence it emerges with the patriotic grace of a slice of beetroot falling to the ground from a hamburger with the lot. 
Indeed, Sky News is a television landscape so open that it can often be hard to spot a viewer anywhere in its sprawling vicinity - even though they are surely there, just over the horizon. Thus it is that some are under the impression nobody watches Andrew's new show. This is a gruesome falsehood: figures reveal that on one recent night he was out-rated on Foxtel only by Dora and Friends and a mere two or three dozen other programs. (more here, on Peta as the cavalry, with forced video).

But in the Devine's case, it's just sour grapes of the eau da parfume kind ...

Hey nonny no, here we go ... with appropriate credit to the Daily Terrorists, still offering all the fucking news for fucksake on any device ...

Talk about essence of Devine bile ... and on and on she ranted, the fear and the loathing rampant ...

Talk about essence of Devine bile ... and on and on she ranted, the fear and the loathing rampant ...

Oh wait, we've already said that, but then, so has the Devine, many, many times ...

Besides, isn't a sitcom about how funny the wogs are enough for these simple-minded wogs?

Can we at least have a funny cartoon of a simple-minded wog to round out the rant?

And the Devine couldn't say congratulations, well done, well played, or any other of the fatuous forms of politeness supposed to be the province of conservatives ... because that would erode her product, as the infamous bitch from hell who routinely dispenses vile bile ...

But it wasn't just the Devine. As noted others have led the charge, including the Bolter, and it would be remiss of the pond not to note the efforts of one of the Murdochian Hunster's finest panhandlers ...

Yep, suddenly one man becomes an indication of all that's wrong with television ... as opposed to say ... the odd child abduction in the streets ...

The pond rarely pays attention to the panhandler, but you can bet that when both the Devine and the panhandler get to singing the same sour note, something's going on ... as the HUN also dishes out all the fucking news for fucksake on any device ...

Which explains why the lofty, high-minded panhandler spends so much time on it, thereby inducing nausea ...

It is of course just another chance for a bit of Aly bashing, because he's the finest figure for hate that the reptile commentariat can conjure up ... all clever dick and smarmy and full of self-important preaching, unlike the panhandler, who specialises in deadhead preaching ...

Take it away deadhead ...

Well it's a good thing the panhandler isn't helping out Ten in its programming.

That wretched network doesn't have much going for it, but at least its news service and The Project regularly turn up in the top twenty, and they're both cheap to make.

Sure it's not a really classy and innovative show like Gogglebox (irony alert) but it helps keep the wolf from the door - unlike the Bolter's show, which made a wasteland of Ten's Sunday schedule ...

But the point isn't Ten's woeful programming, it's all about fear and loathing of the far left, particularly the arts and media community, as exemplified by the Ten network, a haven of far leftists of the worst Gogglebox kind (extreme irony alert) ...

Well the pond has already noted the extreme lack of grace and generosity, the incapacity to say congratulations and move along ...

Instead we cop fatuous displays of ignorance - as if the pond needs to know that the panhandler is so useless she has no idea of the stars on the red carpet ...

She loves television? So that's where the mindless idiocy comes from?

And without the faintest whiff of contradiction or understanding, she then goes on to complain about how she doesn't know who's on television, and anyway, that the television she loves is full of blindness?

What an infinitely stupid, confused and contradictory commentary.

But that's what you have to expect from anyone who loves television ... without having the first clue as to why the love might be there ...

The pond doesn't pretend to love television, the pond never watches The Project, the pond thinks all religion is a nonsense, but whatever happened to grace and good cheer in the world of the vile, bilious commentariat?

Well perhaps the richest irony of all is the company that the Devine and the panhandler keep in their idle, cheap and churlish fundamentalist manner ...

Yep, your Devine and your panhandler are as fucked in the head as your average Islamic fundamentalist, and full of the same raging bitterness and resentment ...

There has to be an irony there ...

And now the pond must apologise again for not concentrating on the important issues of the day. 

How lucky that Rowe has already dealt with another important matter, and as always, more Rowe here ...

Now that's more the pond's go ... instead of television, a decent apocalypse ...

The panhandler, the Devine and Kilgore ... and the pond loves the smell of rancid bitterness at any time of day ... it smells like nastiness, just like burnt toast ...