In which the pond scores a Sunday trolling by the bromancer ...

Like any sensible conservative, the pond often yearns for the good old days, the golden years, when each Sunday could be devoted to the musings of the frock-fancying Pellists in the Terror and the jovial complimentary women-loving Jensenists at work in the temple of Calvinist fundamentalism over at the Sydney Anglicans ...

Once upon upon a time, the strident Jensenists would be out and about celebrating Luther in his 500th year - what a chance for a public holiday - and banging on, albeit indirectly, about the whores at work for the Roman Babylon, and at certain times of the year, the pond could celebrate the war on Xmas or the deviant perversity of that great satanic ritual of the American dead ...

The Vatican issued a warning to parents, saying they should not allow children to dress up as witches or ghosts for an ''anti-Christian'' celebration of ''terror, fear and death''. The warning came in the Vatican paper, L'Osservatore Romano, in an article which said: ''Halloween has an undercurrent of occultism and is anti-Christian.''

But that was back in 2009, and by 2016 the Paddington Anglicans were hosting a Halloween spectacular ... no wonder they call it the deviant five ways church ...

Would no one step up and bring the pond reminders of its ancient, pagan, primitive joys?

There is a god, and She still delivers!

Well we can step past John Pasquarelli - that splash was as big a laugh as the pond needed - and get right down to it with the bromancer ... even the google splash hinted at the mad fun to follow ...

Listen to your inner voice?

But which one, there are so many of them ...

The pond knows the bromancer is expert at talking to himself in a schizophrenic way, but the pond doesn't have quite the same control. Should the pond listen to the inner voice that chants on a monotone Lord of the Flies way, kill the copper lovers, kill the multinodal heretics?

Perhaps not, perhaps it's better to get on with the bromancer feast ...

Now from the get-go, the pond isn't going to argue with the bromancer.

The pond never tells small children that Santa Claus is an invention of parents to shatter their belief system, and make them tough, cynical and worldly wise. Harden the fuck up, there is no Claus, is a bitter lesson, and perhaps we're better off never learning it.

The pond never mocks Santa or even those who worship the Easter Bunny, because truth to tell, you can still pick up a mint-flavoured block of Lindt chocolate for a humble two bucks ... so there is a Santa Claus, in the best commercial sense of the word ...

If somebody tells the pond they've seen fairies at the bottom of the garden, or dabbled with an ouija board and perhaps Conan Doyle was right, the pond nods and smiles ... (and checks under the table for knives).

If someone says they have no real empirical evidence that they are the child of the parents, the pond might recommend DNA testing as a way of getting an answer, but if people prefer mumbo jumbo and infinite stupidity, who is the pond to question them, or disturb their infinite complacency ...

It's enough that there's an abundance of seasonal treats ...

The pond sensed it was that seasonal goodwill that had motivated the bromancer ...

After all, anyone  who has faith that a car will work clearly never drove an FX or a Morris Minor, and are wantonly stupid when it comes to mechanical matters ...

The important thing to recognise and acknowledge here is that this is the man, who in other moments, passes himself off as the foreign editor for the lizard Oz ... when it turns out he's just another delusional superstitious believer of the Daesh kind ...

The pond always finds it remarkable the way the religious can invent their own version of god, and then argue about what She thinks and what She does and what's the best way to believe in Her ...

Of course the bromancer doesn't go into any of this and restricts his discussion to the question of of a kind of generic god, which is a tired and obvious ploy ...

The pond's interest might have perked up if the bromancer had got on to some interesting questions, of the kind that always pique the pond's interest ...

Alas and alack, the bromancer doesn't have the wit or the style to explain what it feels like to head off on a Sunday for a sustaining chomp on human flesh ...

Now about this point in the discussion, the pond should probably confess that, unlike most Catholics, it read the bible from cover to cover at a very early age, and discovered it was a bunch of myths, legends, fairy stories, tall tales, and metaphorical, symbolical yarns, and even if Homer was a better, richer read, it had lots of moments for which words like logic and reason and coherence seemed quaintly inadequate ...

But it does allow the pond to provide a link to the Skeptic's Annotated Bible, which has lots of fun insights and answers many questions, and also provides hot links, as can be found here ...

If nothing else, the bromancer's trolling provided this opportunity ... so there is a Santa Claus ...

Of course there's a price to pay, because those with an uncertain faith frequently bray the loudest and the longest ...

Now remember, this is a bear that purports to be the foreign editor of The Australian, but even in theological terms, is clearly a bear of little brain ...

If the mind is shaped by evolutionary theory to irrational ends throughout history it might just as well be shaped to irrational ends when it embraces the Donald. This is not what the pond believes but it is an inescapable implication of the bromancer's style of silly Xianity ...

And around this point, it should be noted that the entire exercise smacks of clickbait trolling of a particularly mindless and futile kind ...

Naturally there were a few barking mad lizard Oz readers who took it as living proof that monumental stupidity was the way forward, while others just took the bait and ran with it ...

With the greatest respect to Richard IV, there's absolutely no point getting too excited or carried away. 

It turns out that the bromancer is a Linus in desperate search of a blanket. What if his inept scribbling for years for the lizard Oz turned out to be a meaningless, comprehensively futile waste of time, and he was perhaps not just a speck in time, but an abomination in the eyes of the Lord?

She is after all fairly fierce on matters of humbug, and the reptiles are notorious deliverers of countless amounts of distilled, pure essence of humbug ...

How would they know how God would behave?

They read the fucking bible, you silly, silly man, unless of course you're going to do a modern believer routine, and drop the entirety of the Old Testament out of the canon because it shows a malicious, malevolent, fickle narcissist god not above a bit of genocide and behaving occasionally in the manner of the Donald ...

The bromaner's trolling produced some 263omments by the time the pond dropped in, and they were still turning up to be trolled this Sunday morning ...

The last time the pond got an update the trolled were still indignant at the trolling ...

Sadly, the trolled didn't have much of a clue ...

Sorry John, when it comes to foreign affairs, he's just as much a dipstick and a foolish fuckwit, which is why reptile lovers adore him so ...

And that's the reason the pond can't be be prideful.

The pond was trolled and the pond bit too ... there's no bigger mug than a nostalgic blogger in search of ancient kicks and old-fashioned Sunday pleasures ...

It wasn't up there with a decent bit of frock-wearing ...

But it'll do, bromancer, it'll do ...

And now, see where apocalyptic Xian fundamentalist thinking of the Daesh bromancer kind has led the United States ...

No wonder She's left the swamp, and She's headed for them thar hills ...