In which the pond spends quality time with the savvy Savva, to the Bolter's great despair ...

The pond rarely looks at the Bolter.

It's true that the pond is a cesspit, home to reptile effluent and untreated waste, but there has to be a limit. All that needs to be noted here is that the bigot's bigot is maintaining the rage, while at the same time, moving off the budget, and away from the really big story of the day, the march of the United States towards authoritarian dictatorship of a kind surely of bigly appeal to the Bolter taste ...

The Bolter was working himself up into a lather about aged events ...

This day the reptiles of Oz tried to bait the Bolter with fresh meat ...

The pond is always distressed to see 'racism' move away from any notion of race to matters ethnic and religious - a religion isn't a race by any usual definition - but possibly the reptiles would have baulked at calling out the Bolter as the Islamophobic bigot that he is ... while noting that in matters Aboriginal he's also a full-blown racist ...

So many bigotries, so many phobias, so little time ...

Throw in yet another "harden the fuck up young 'uns, get off my lawn" from the moronic Louise Roberts, and perforce the pond can't do business with the Terror this day.

Apparently Roberts comes to the world via the Manly Daily, which is on a par with that other north shore blessing, the Manly onion munching mauler ...if only the Simpsons had done a joke about blondes yelling at clouds ...

So it was off to the lizard Oz, and what a parade of agitated despair there was this day ... doom and gloom, and renting of clothes, and wailing, and sackcloth and ashes ...

And so on and so forth ... quitters giving up, looming fiasco, bloody all-out war, beware the rosy ...

The pond reeled back. Surely there'd be someone willing to shout the good news from the steeple?

Luckily this odd juxtaposition of compelling stories caught the pond's eye ...

The urbane Urban and the savvy Savva yoked together  ...

Please allow the pond to walk past the lizard Oz's ongoing enduring fascination with TG people, which verges on a Queenslander in Thailand ogling ladyboys or getting distracted by fa'afafine in Samoa... strange how so many cultures have TG people ...

What's the bet the reptiles practise their tour guide Thai, “kun bpen kàtoey mǎi kráp ”...“kun tam sàláyá-gaam bplɛɛng pɛ̂ɛt rʉ̆ʉ yang”...before heading off to live the dream ...

The savvy Savva it had to be, with the pond at least knowing that this was like reading a press release from the PM's desk ... the real deal, the good oil, a bit of dinkum ridgy-didge insider trading ...

The pond anticipated that the mood would surge somewhere between ecstasy tablet and outright Whitmanesque euphoria ...

Advance through pragmatic reality!

The notion of reality being pragmatic is up there with the bigotry of the Bolter ...and there was the pond thinking it could be Trumpian reality ...

And then that touching "if..." turning up in the last sentence to show that the dream is still alive.

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; 

If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; 

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster 

And treat those two impostors just the same; 

If you can produce a surplus like a rabbit

And make Comrade Bill shed his habit

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken 

Twisted by knavish reptiles to make a trap for fools
If you can face the looming fiasco, the bloody all-out war 
And turn in a rosy column offering the universe to the poor ...

Many more "ifs" here ...

It put the pond in the mood for a Rowe cartoon showing the butcher at work, with many more Rowe's here ...

ScoMo bacon for breakfast! Squeal, little piggies ...

And so to the next gobbet of Savva triumphant ...

Say what? Didn't the moronic Roberts bemoan how children were turning into a bunch of wimps and wusses, and here's the savvy Savva celebrating the way that wusses end up winning?

Now Albo's on the hunt and comrade Bill is feeling the heat and the savvy Savva is exultant, and even the hasty pastie from Perth is on side ... and that comical talk of kissing the ring is surely a feed line for another Rowe cartoon ...

But what of the mad onion-munching monk, the  one who hails from the same area as the moronic Roberts from Manly? (Well the pond is sure she's no wimp or wuss and can cope with routinely being called a moron - harden the fuck up Louise).

How's he coping?

Go figure!?

Laughter and mockery and dancing on the grave of 2014 is the order of the day?

The onion muncher's got nowhere to go?

Break out the bells, and please a check on how the Bolter's pulse rate is going ...

Oh the poor lamb, the gnashing and the wailing, and the deep sense of loss ...

As ever, the immortal Pope has caught the mood, with many more mood-capturing papal insights here ... alert as ever to the way that ScoMo mentioned climate science many many times, to be precise O times ...

Well yes indeedy, and, spoiler alert, we all know how that movie ended ...

Treasure the moment ...the pond here at last on the ground, the savvy Savva off in mid-air ...