In which the pond walks through the valleys of the moon with our Glad, Moorice and the Oz editorialist ...

The pond is made of sterner stuff than to fall for a bit of Malware trolling. 

Sure he called his former colleagues mad and crazy - what happened to that good, old-fashioned, even richer "barking mad and howling at the moon" expression? - and it's always tempting to spend time with the federal crazies, but this day the reptiles were wildly excited by someone called Luke.

The pond had a chat about this alleged unicorn Luke with a friend, and we both realised that while we knew of a certain Gladys, busy turning Sydney into the valleys of the moon, and ruining train services, and wasting money on stadia, neither of us knew of Luke, and even more perplexing, couldn't name anyone likely to replace him …unicorns being somewhat rare ...nor did the name of a single state Labor politician spring to mind …

Is there a replacement unicorn out there? Who knows? Could that mean even more years of living in the valleys of the moon, desolation all around? Has anyone driven through Green Square lately and seen Hong Kong unfold before their eyes, and wonder how public transport might cope? Does anyone remember the Liberal loon who thought Uber or sky taxis or pods would take care of everything?

Never underestimate the power of state Labor unicorns to help produce such exemplary results ...

But too much madness can come from thinking about federal or state crazies ...

So the pond decided to spring a modestly conspiracy-laden Moorice on unsuspecting minds, and also catch up on unfinished angry Sydney Anglican business …

You see, late yesterday, the reptiles finally got around to acknowledging that they'd led the angry Sydney Anglicans astray …

Lordy, long absent lordy, the Anglicans are so dumb …because in the alternative world there was all sorts of a fuss going down ...

Yet the reptiles proudly took credit for leading the silly angry Sydney Anglicans astray in the stories they've been running …

Memo to angry Sydney Anglicans …

… if you keep reading the lizard Oz and scribbling angry content for them, in the manner of errant schoolboys with hair on their palms, you're likely to go blind, or at least have to produce this sort of act of contrition for your multitude of sins …

Such a silly man. The pond has tracked the angry Sydney Anglicans over the years, and can't count the number of times their bigotry and fundamentalism has caused them pain and distress …

The pond thought about running the rest of the reptile story about a man notorious for his ability to shoot himself in his foot …

And so on, but while there were gobbets more to go, the sight of the apologetic goose was enough, and the pond had other, much more satisfying, conspiracy-laden Moorice fish to fry ….

There you go … climate science denialism for a TGIF. 

It's been quite a while since the pond dropped in on the Speccie mob, but why should it bother, when Moorice is around, doing his Friday reptile thing?

Did the pond mention "barking mad and howling at the moon", or at least Prince Chuck? Never mind, the pond must rush quickly through Moorice because there's another treat to follow …

But first, please, get out your patented Moorice tinfoil hats because there's a deep conspiracy at hand. Who knows, perhaps even George Soros might be responsible, but if not, it's certainly the UN and the greenies ...

Now in relation to John McLean, here's a link, and the pond will leave it at that … after all, Moorice never actually gets down into his own impeccable field research, or the actual work of thousands of scientists …

Where's the need for any of the alternative information swirling around the full to overflowing intertubes when you've donned your tinfoil hat? Just toss around words like "warmist" and "globalist" and the job is done ...

And so the pond must rush, because after the final Moorice gobbet, there's a treat to follow ...

Jail? Could Moorice be finally feeling the heat?

Now some might think that this Pope is the promised treat, seeing as how it links the crazy Moorice with the crazy ScoMo …

And it is a treat, and there are more papal treats here, and the pond loves this new Krusty look, and the Maaaaaate! and the dinkum energy this and the dinkum coal that …

But there's another treat. 

You see, the pond got to musing with its friend about how the bromancer was barking mad and completely clueless, and how he'd written a couple of exceptionally silly columns about the Donald, and then last night the pond and the friend had indulged in a Donald orgy, with the late night comics, and cable news gone feral, maddened by the reality TV show host's latest bizarre antics … 

… and the friend, perhaps even more adept than the pond at reptile watching, was astonished to discover that the pond had missed the reptile editorial on the subject of the Donald …

...and it was all the more piquant for what had followed, including but not limited to these sort of stories in the NY Times, easily googled…

Come on down Oz editorialist, a day late, and a solar system wide of the mark, put the best spin on things, so hard-core pond readers can truly head into the weekend with a smile on their face …

Of course the reptiles entirely miss the point. This is reality TV show entertainment of the first water. Sure there are mass shooting crazies on what seems to be a weekly basis, but the Donald is also a crazy, and unfolding his own version of the Saturday night massacre, and it provides endless distraction …

They're just beginning?

Trump has mastered the art of politics in such a situation. He didn’t create this dynamic, but he has figured out how to exploit it, and is far more willing to do so than other modern politicians. He is a polarizing President for a polarized country. There was only one outcome that was likely on Tuesday night, and it happened. “We’ll be further apart as a country,” Sosnik told me, as the polls were closing. And, of course, he was right. Trump waited not even a day before provoking an enormous political crisis. That, too, was utterly predictable.

Well it was utterly predictable to everyone who hadn't been sipping the kool aid in the reptile Surry Hills 'leet bunker. Please allow the pond to return to reptile la la land for a final gobbet, and share a a deep glug of the kool aid with the bromancer and the Oz editorialist ...

A far more substantial President?

Just before noon on Wednesday, Trump made the previous night’s results official with a day-after-the-election press conference—but the only traditional part of the session, in the stately grandeur of the White House East Room, was that he held it at all. “This is not going to be a Kumbaya moment,” CNN’s Jim Acosta predicted right before Trump appeared. And it was not. Before it was over, Trump would nearly engage in fisticuffs with Acosta. (“You are an enemy of the people,” Trump practically shouted at the reporter, pointing his finger as he finally ended their exchange.) In the course of nearly an hour and a half, the President interspersed angry rants about what he called unfair coverage by the media with ever more inflated claims that Tuesday’s election had actually been a “history-defying” victory for him. “I thought it was close to a complete victory,” Trump said. “I think it was a great victory, to be honest.” To the extent that he acknowledged any defeats at all, the President blamed House losses on the large number of Republican retirements there, while at the same time openly celebrating the ouster of a long list of members of his own party who had distanced themselves from him and went on to be beaten. “Mia Love gave me no love,” he said, referring to the Utah Republican. “And she lost. Too bad.”

Substantial? That's substantial?

That's fucking showbiz reptiles of the cruellest Marat Sade kind, up there with the most extreme Dada-ist, nihilistic, surrealistic, expressionistic works to be found in Weimar Republic days … for a country that's now spinning out of control, with the madness of the politics producing madness in the streets ...

And the pond had to humbly admit to its friend that it finally understood why the angry Sydney Anglicans were so fucked in the head, and in need of remorseful public apologies.

They'd read the lizard Oz and taken it seriously, and possibly even imbibed the bromancer and the lizard editorialist …

Even worse, they'd sternly avoided the pond's advice to take at least one Rowe a day as the only known antidote for the madness … or else they'd be certain to face long delays while travelling through the mountains and the valleys of the moon … (get your supply of salving Rowe here).