In which the pond has a repetitive oneiric dream with the Speccie mob ...

Back in the day when the pond was trying to swallow a dictionary, 'oneiric' was one of the pond's favourite new words … and how pleasing to see that back in 2014 Merriam-Webster made it their word of the day …

The pond headed off to the Speccie mob in hope of a Friday treat, and entered a dream-like state, much like an acid flashback.

Giles was out and about, sunning himself, but truth to tell, so deep was Giles in his dotage, and the pain of his current living arrangements, that the pond didn't have the heart to do anything with it …

Instead the pond clicked on one James Allan, and so came the reverie …but before proceeding on, a note of caution.

This is in the exact ordering in which the text unfolded for the pond.

The pond has only discreetly removed a few advertisements, on the basis that some advertisers might not want to be associated with what turned up ...

Now the pond could have gone on about that slander of Barners' chosen tribe - the pond is from Tamworth, don't you know, close to rural people, as in WaPo here, or Kelly's own unintegrated illiterate useless family of bog Irish who preceded him, and which resembled the illiterate bog Irish and German peasantry which resulted in the pond, or question the arguments, as at Vox here …

But the pond is just happy to settle for the notion that James Allan is a ponce and a wanker, with some attitude problem to rural folk, who last week were being celebrated by sundry reptiles as the Anglo-Celtic salt of the earth, and what we needed, right here, right now, were some dinkum South African rural types to help fix up the rugby crisis and do a bit of farming …

But taking Allan seriously and arranging debating points like this would merely get in the road of the reverie that unfolded ...

Oh there's probably no damage to the reverie to insert a cartoon …

That's better, because there's one sure sign that the pond is entering murky waters when there's talk of cesspits and elites.

Why is this piquant? Well their man Allan is surely part of the academic elite that routinely ruins everything for the reptiles …

But the pond doesn't want to draw attention away from, or ruin the unfolding reverie …

Ah, the more amenable North Koreans. Well he probably wrote that before the last few days, apparently unaware that in the days of the Donald, things can change on a dime …

But now to evidence that we have an elitist wanker ponce on our hands, of the reverential Bloomian kind … 

And so the reverie began ...

There was something about the repetitions that entranced the pond. Yes, it took the pond back to the good old days of Webster in the Sydney Domain, ranting away …

 

Much was repeated, nothing was resolved, but there was entertainment for all, and everybody went way knowing that one day the loons would surely inherit the world …

And so the pond's modern day Webster, the Allan of the north, continued in his time warp loop, the repetitions ordained by the Speccie's sloppy attention to detail ...

On and on the loop rolled, or should that be the time warp?

Okay, the pond had moved beyond the time warp into a feverish delirium, and still the ponce from the north kept rabbiting on … and the pond swears this was how it was (no doubt someone at the Speccie will notice soon enough and try to seek order in a fragmenting, deconstructing universe) ...

It was weird, and yet it was just right, like reading a Burroughs cut and paste job …and somehow thanks to the editing, the Speccie mob had evoked a kind of wild-eyed ranting hysteric, an Ancient Mariner haunted by bizarre images ..

And instead of Pooh, the pond was once again down the rabbit hole with Alice …