Zombies?
That's what passes for reptile satire this day?
Funny how the reptile cheer squad can't spot a nationalist, 'there's good people on both sides', President at ten paces … tweeting away about baseball just after the blood's run free … while the reality is blindingly obvious to everyone else, as in Trump is the Glue That Binds the Far Right…
Dear sweet long absent lord, even the Drudge had had enough of Fox News …check your soul in the make-up chair, lizards of Oz ...
But actually debating this sort of stuff over dead bodies is beneath contempt, and of no interest to the pond, so the reptiles saved the pond's day by resorting to an old favourite …
Ah, a simple slam dunk, take the Asten and just do the old Burroughs cut and paste.
Of late the pond has studiously avoided the reptile climate science denial agenda, but where's the harm in dipping a toe back into the warming water ...
The pond has been to this well before. You see, way back in August 2011, Michael Ashley wrote for The Conversation Event horizon: the black hole in The Australian's climate change coverage, and a certain Michael Asten bobbed up ...
Yes, back then he was just an old-fashioned denialist, busy spreading the smog of delusion and confusion.
So what's changed in the intervening years? Three fifths of fuck all it turns out. Gobsmacking … so let's let on with more Michael Asten smacking of the gob ...
It's impossible to overstate the enormous stupidity of the notion of a red team/blue team routine, though it does suggest the overwhelming desire of climate science deniers to thoroughly politicise climate science, and treat it as a matter of ideology or even theology. You know, get red and blue teams to debate whether that image on the cheese toast is really an image of Christ …
But the pond doesn't have to debate the matter, it can just revert to another gobbet of Ashley ...
Yes, some seven years or so on, the editorial bias means that Asten is simply too strong a climate denialist for the reptiles to resist their sordid, base urges ...
This bout of denialism is about as dumb as it gets - perhaps we could also get red and blue teams to debate how many angels can fit on the head of a pin - and also relies heavily on no one remembering Asten's heroic efforts at climate denialism over the years …
But now the pond has done its duty, it can afford a little free time and have a little fun …
Not the oscillating fan, the pond can hear stray readers moan, as they head off to do something useful, like drag fingernails or chalk across the blackboard to amuse sensitive students … but the OF it must be, because there's a very slow burn involved ...
Actually if he curled up into a ball and sat in the corner, how much better off the country would be. The trouble is, the country's now laughing so hard it simply doesn't want to get down to a hard day's yakka … instead it's easier to chortle along with Media Watch's celebration of "fair dinkum" power …
Fair dinkum, it's as if ScoMo and Angus the beefy boofhead had set out to prove that the onion muncher was a rocket scientist when it comes to marketing ...
So why did the pond revert to OF when it might have reverted to the Major Mitchell or the Caterist - deep in thrall to a book selling scam of a classic Menzies Research Institute kind - or other glories in yesterday's lizard Oz?
Well it's because the pond wanted that set of steak knives the OF offered, which turned out to be an even better offer …a sublime celebration of the onion muncher, featured in the lizard Oz and the pond thanks to the sordid, base urges of the reptile editorial team ...
You can't make this stuff up?
Of course you can't, but you can run a Rowe cartoon, with more recreational Rowe available here ...
The onion muncher … how he keeps on giving ...
And so to the slow onion muncher burn … you see, late yesterday our Troy made an astonishing discovery …
Doubts? Someone had many doubts? Who is the knave, where is that fool? There was never a time for doubting, there was always sublime certainty ...
Perhaps young Troy wasn't there at the time. No one who endured those years had any doubts that Billy McMahon was an epic dud … the pond's still got a copy of this wonderful book somewhere around the house …
But do go on Troy, you've been blessed with the Krygsman of the day, and so have guaranteed cult status ...
Apart from his tremulous, querulous, quavering, wavering voice, and his whining teary performance on his election night defeat, all the pond remembers of Billy is the way he was a blessing to cartoonists …
The pond preferred the koala motif with the fluffy ears, but wait, after a little more dwelling with Billy, the slow burn the pond promised will finally arrive ...
And so to the punchline, which comes at the very end of the piece ...
At least now Billy has been displaced from our memories and lost in time, replaced by bitter politicians with few lasting achievements …
Oh what a burn, but who could Troy be hinting at?
Come on down, way worse than Billy McMahon onion muncher …
The pond just wanted to do that little edit - apologies to Rowe - to bring out a few of the details, not least that transistor radio on the beach, which seems permanently set to 2GB.
Why even Billy himself would probably have been listening on his four band 8 transistor radio to this later bitter politician, without any significant policy achievements, hanging around like a miserable ghost.
Still, it's for a noble cause, with the onion muncher erasing Billy from history so he can be replaced by a man with a somewhat infinite (thanks ABC) capacity for hate and revenge …
And so to the immortal Pope, reminding us that the demagogic, authoritarian trend established by the Donald - with the aid of the Murdochian evil empire - continues apace… with more sage papal insights always to hand here …
Where are the zombies now, reptiles? All the pond sees flapping about in the sky are climate denialists, miserable ghosts and your favourite white nationalists dragging the United States and the world towards far right fascism ...
"...perhaps we could also get red and blue teams to debate how many angels can fit on the head of a pin"
ReplyDeleteOh yes please, DP, yes please. There's just so many issues to resolve before we can come to a truly scientifically rational answer to that deep question. For instance, are angels just like spin-1/2 fermions which cannot occupy the same point in space-time, or are they like Bose integer-spin particle ? Example being the spin-1 photon (which, just like angels, experiences neither space nor time) many of which can occupy the same space-time spot (cf laser beams).
Then we have to consider the reality of the pinhead - no, not Trump, a real pin's head. Can it ever be 'perfect' in the sense that there is one single atom that is precisely at the 'head' of the pin (hence only one fermion angel can dance there, but many photon angels), or is it that when seen at huge magnification, the pinhead is like a mountain range with many peaks so even with fermion angels, many can concurrently dance on the head.
So you can see that this requires much careful thought and sound analysis to answer. Does anybody have a proposed solution ?
And now for something simply different - Bramston: [McMahon] "...was probably Australia's worst prime minister..."
No, no, no, Troy, only a left-wing reptile like you (so branded by a Doggy Boverer IIRC) could say that: McMahon only lost 8 seats - that's 8, Troy, not the 22 lost by Howard - and he was personally re-elected, not dumped out of his own seat like Howard. Therefore, how can anybody think that McMahon is worse than John Winston ?
Oh, and he didn't appoint a moral 'accomplice' to sexual molesters of minors as Governor-General, either.
But, Mullins on McMahon: "McMahon could not admit fault. Would not admit fault. Rarely even saw fault."
Well in that respect, Billy Bigears is at one with John Winston ... in fact, at one with just about every politician I've ever come across at all (see Tony Abbott for instance, and Barnaby Joyce, too). But thanks to Troy Boy, we have a definitive analysis of McMahon: that he had the Prime Ministership thrust upon him too late "...he was long beyond his prime and too old at age 63."
They never get the timing right, them Libbies.