In which, thanks to the Order of Lenin hunter, the pond learns leetz r us ...

(Above: and more Rowe here).

The pond has been assiduously following the US election campaign - the strong man Putin worship, the denial of the birtherism, the singular failure of the US media, represented briefly by #LaueringTheBar when Matt Lauer briefly left the shallow end of the pool and discovered he didn't know how to swim ...

It'd be as entertaining as a reality TV show if it had no actual other significance, such as the inability of the GOP to be able to handle or control a raging egomaniac and narcissist. Give him the codes. What could go wrong? What's that, North Korea's done it again? Never mind, what could go wrong?

But fun as it is, the pond has a duty to the domestic reptiles of Oz, and luckily the major Mitchell, that fabulously plumed bird, the Order of Lenin hunter, has a book to sell ... and so, the way this works, there's a story about the story ...

... and because you can never have enough promotion, there's the story itself ...

Now because this will be a long and turgid read, the pond would pre-emptively like to note the company that it's keeping ...

Yes, the next time you read a reptile bemoaning and berating the "leets", remember what unfolds in this read, as the farmers and the pigs get together for a meal or three ...

Ah hindsight, and right from the get go, there's been an abundance, a plethora, of "me's" and "I's" ... and there will be many more to come, because it should be understood that the Order of Lenin hunter is a very important man, who stood at the centre of the cyclone in a very balanced and even-handed way ...

Now it will be noted that this is the first of a number of meals to be celebrated as dirty gossip is exchanged ...

And so it's on the next of the leets ...

Now some might see a piquant irony in the notion that it's possible to construct a business model by peddling the likes of the Bolter, Akker Dakker, the magic water man, the parrot and Miranda the Devine ...

But the pond instead was immediately drawn to that memorable night when the onion muncher aped the Gillard derriere. 

What a fun night it surely was, what a hoot, what a laugh, how comical, especially when done by a man who's walk is a model of a cowboy with his bum too long in the saddle ...

And there, that mention of the bum, it came to the pond. That talk of Gillard's derriere provided a clue of Poirot proportions that we were truly in the company of the leets ...

... because only leets would ignore basic words like bum or arse (or if American, ass), and dress it up with a dandified, ponce, Frenchified word like "derriere" ... to hide the fact that they enjoyed a bum joke ...

Yes, never mind the sexism, or the misogyny, that's to be expected, it's the way that Mitchell signifies his rarefied leetness that somehow, for mysterious, inexplicable reasons, called to mind the Donald ...

Well the journey with the leets is almost over ...

And there you have it. 

They say that we get the media we pay for, and that we get the politicians we vote for, but the pond came away from it all thinking that the country's being run by a bunch of chardonnay and shiraz swilling elites, who on any other day of the week will assure anyone who will listen how they loathe the 'leets ...

And now the very same chardonnay swiller, aided and abetted by the reptiles, is attempting a comeback, or in lieu, the destruction of the government in which he purports to serve ...

It would be as funny as a reality TV show if it didn't have some other significance ...

Pope put it another way, and more Pope here ...