In which the pond faces difficult choices, but is saved by the oscillating fan ...

Talk about an agony of choices … but both Shanners and prattling Polonius indulge in a shameless ploy.

The pond has no interest in defending Lee Rhiannon, and thinks it unfortunate that the right of the elderly to control their fate ended up in the hands of the tainted Leyonhjelm. The pond has no desire to offer any attention to Leyonhjelm, or fundamentalist Catholicism for that matter ...

So the pond decided to see which was the most outrageous statement the pair could muster. 

The pond considers this one by prattling Polonius to be exceptional …

Polonius never really got over backing the wrong horse, and still thinks there was a war to be won in South Vietnam, albeit maintaining a deeply corrupt government as a kind of colonial artefact …

This reality had nothing to do with supporting communism; rather, like the disaster known as the Iraq "mission accomplished" war, very little was to be gained by bombing the shit out of a country and spreading the conflict to Cambodia, so that the killing fields might flourish …

But you can't tell that to fundamentalist Catholics locked into a DLP anti-commie mindset ...

What a disgraceful man he is, but at least he didn't make the logical link that Stalin was all the fault of nationalised broadcaster the ABC …or note the way that the ABC was the main reason the South Vietnamese government lost the fight.

As for Shanners, as a way if disguising her fundamentalist Catholicism, she played the race card …

Seemingly irrational fears of genocide?

Only a fundamentalist Catholic could scribble this, and use suicide and and race and talk of genocide as a way of obfuscating the right of the elderly to die with dignity …

Given this, and given the pond's recent affection for the oscillating fan, is it any wonder the pond decided to abandon fundamentalist Catholic ship, and give the lad another go …

The reptiles have been flogging his column for days …

Of course deep down, and also totally on the surface, it's just idle click bait.

The oscillating fan is one of those useful tools, or useless fools, always ready to join in the reptile zeitgeist …

The onion muncher would have looked at that oscillating fan splash and read only "How I can return to my rightful throne with Barners as my consort" and shrugged his shoulders or overlooked the caveat, 'but the coalition needs to suffer a crushing defeat.'

The oscillating fan was probably on hand to scribble a column for the Black Knight in that Monty Python skit: How the Black Knight Could Still Win …

A crushing defeat, loose an arm or a leg, or maybe the lot?

So what, the onion muncher might say. A few must perish for the greater good, my right to restore knighthoods to the land …

In short, while in the business of doing his usual farcical attempt at centrism and balance, the oscillating fan goes on parade as an enabler … as if the Murdochians currently need any enabling, with the the northern Sunday tabloid rags in full cry …

By golly, there's nothing they'll stop at to consummate their deep love for the precioussss, dinkum clean Oz coal, oi, oi, oi …

And so to the enabler, doing his enabling ...

The more the oscillating fan talks up the onion muncher and Barners, betrayer of Tamworth for Armidale, the more he serves them and the Murdochian cause …

Now see how he weaves a beguiling prospect, a tempting future, the chance to snatch back the throne ...

You see the incitement to violence in what the oscillating fan scribbles? 

Do this, do that, and you might yet return to power … an Iago whispering in the ear, with that talk of roadkill dissembling and disingenuous, or perhaps a spur, perhaps a further incitement …

See how the Lobbecke conjures a vision, a nightmare from which any onion muncher or Tamworth traitor might recoil …

And there you have it and the pond rests its case. 

The oscillating fan was blessed with a Lobbecke, guaranteeing cult reptile status, and the Lobbecke is a warning as dire as might be found by anyone skilled in the art of haruspicy …

Waiter, is there a sheep's liver in the house, the oscillating fan is in full seer mode …ready to guide the onion muncher with signs and portents

Of course it could all be meaningless bullshit, much like the oscillating fan's understanding of Nazis and socialism.

The only guarantee the future offers is that this sort of rambling nonsense, designed to fill newspapers, will only be remembered if anyone wants to see what sort of accuracy reading sheeps' livers produces …

The pond can play that game too … the onion muncher might, or might not return to power;  Barners might be still much admired around the land, or might not be; comrade Bill might or might not win the next election; and Malware might or might not stay on as Prime Minister ...and how much better for every political party if they lost every election and used the loss as a chance for mortification and purification …

Now see if you can catch the pond out with any of those sheep liver inspired thoughts!

As for the rest, there's only a couple of certainties. Fairfax will keep on fucking up the formatting of its cartoon galleries, and Cathy Wilcox is a current victim, as can be seen here, even as she conjures up the work ethic of the one political certainty of the times …

Or as Bill might put it ...

When we are born, we cry that we are come 
To this great stage of fools. This a good block. 
It were a delicate stratagem to shoe 
A troop of horse with felt.  I’ll put ’t in proof. 
And when I have stol'n upon these Liberal colleagues, 
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!