In which the pond finally has to cover the reptile coverage ...

The pond was briefly cheered up by the sight of a biblical reference in the current campaign. 

Could it at last become something interesting, with prophets of doom hurling injunctions at each other from the holy word of imaginary friends?

Of course the pond is a stickler for the KJV, but it tends to be a bit cryptic at times ...

And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him

The pond felt that perhaps the NIV version would make the text a little plainer for youffs not interested in the language of King James' time:

And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

Ouch, hypocrites yelling at the unseen?

Never mind, the pond always likes to do a Tony Perkins and think of Mother …

Meanwhile, the pond wilted, as the reptiles refused to obey the pond's injunction for ABTE columns …

Instead of anything but the election, it was all about the election, and here the reptiles were faced with an extreme difficulty, a tricky dilemma, arising from the unfair judgement of a minority of inner suburban latte sipping 'leets who, somehow, for some strange reason, had been invited into the 7 studio to render a verdict on the debate.

As a result, the reptiles had to use all sorts of dodges, wheezes and subterfuges, and the pond was forced into covering the reptile coverage - not having been mad enough or sufficiently in dotage to actually sit down and watch the wretched thing.

Elsewhere at Nine it was a matter of a statement of the obvious, by the cawing Crowe, a refugee from reptile la la land …

  

Hmm, seems a simple enough announcement of the result, but it must have plunged the reptiles into an agony of confusion and concern. 

How to tilt the result, how to skew it so their man was at least a respectable player? Could they do a Tommy and show that being deaf, dumb and blind was no problem when playing pinball, and seeing how far the tilt could go ...

Well played reptiles, that's how it's done. Berate comrade Bill over climate science, "priceless", and have nattering "Ned" sagely advise that neither leader won by a knockout or on points, and bring on the bouffant one to advise that Bill Shorten won the silly, romantic heart in a girlie way, while the speaker in tongues and strutter in public to imaginary friends won the hard-headed school of deep intellectual debate …

Even the "straight" coverage couldn't quite do a cawing Crowe …

You see, comrade Bill won, but neither could land a knock-out blow, so he didn't really win, did he? 

The reptiles were disappointed … there was no blood ...

There must be blood, there will be blood …

Eli Sunday: Now beg for the blood! 
Plainview: [sotto voce] Please, give me the blood, Eli. Let me get out of here. 
Plainview: [aloud] Give me the blood, Lord, and let me get away!

Meanwhile, the rest of the rag went about its daily business, ravaging and trashing comrade Bill, from the front page of the tree killer edition to a raging parrot to Dame Groan …

  

The pond particularly loved Dame Groan's response, giving that the parrot was only offering his usual squawking …

Claims short of veracity? Why not a simple liar, liar, pants on fire?

Yes, you've never had it so good, your working conditions are far better than you believe, and you can trust an expert accustomed to hauling in a cool $357k from her reptile overlords … such a wondrous sum that Dane Griab had the time to offer a second column, or perhaps in the interests of veracity, the reptiles simply re-branded it ...

Wouldn't you love $357k a year for punditry and devotion to the SloMo cause?

Meanwhile, the reptiles were conjuring a nightmare. What if the youff took to the streets and miseducated and ill-informed as they are, ignored the reptiles and the people shouting at them to get off the lawn?

Oh it's on, a generational biff, and there will be blood …

Curiously, in all this, there was one story that went missing from the lizard Oz digital front page at time of writing, though the pond searched for it high and low …

Ah well, wouldn't want to get in the road of preferences from rogues, ratbags and rich, bloated Titanic Clive … remember the days when the reptiles couldn't get enough of savaging Clive and his follies? Long gone, long gone …

Poor old Hedders … all that work on Clive, and for what? Why, so the reptiles might tug the forelock, along with SloMo ...

And now enough of the teasing, it's on with the reptile verdicts …with the reptiles posed in a way that suggests either authority, or a tendency to pompous portentousness ...

Indeed, indeed, what would the audience know up against Simon? Though for some strange reason, Simon was deprived of a still showing he was a serious player, a reptile expert, while hapless Troy and carping Caroline, still yearning for blows and blood, also went without a snap ...

It was, in the end, an astonishing feat of legerdemain …no clear winner, no winner at all, except that SloMo won the fight on substance, and SloMo came from behind …

Naturally the pond wanted more, and so it dived into nattering "Ned's" full version …

Now it's 'everyone a winner'?! Everyone;s a winner, baby, that's the truth ...

But what do the reptiles always say about pampering privileged children, and giving them false expectations that they will always come first in this vale of tears?

Okay, it was a difficult brief, but doesn't nattering "Ned" do well, as he pampers SloMo ...

Make of that what you will.

Comrade Bill's a frontrunner, who kept his nerve, but has more to lose, though it seemed to the pond that the reptiles had more to lose and were miffed … and so had to do a bizarre dance of equivocation, and is there any better equivocator than the bouffant one?

'Harped'? Hmm, not quite the word the pond would have used. Perhaps 'focused'? Perhaps 'concentrated on'? But 'harped'? Talking persistently and tediously on a particular topic? Though hast harped my fear aright!

The pond knew it had done the right thing by not watching, especially when the reptiles threw in another photo for benefit of the bouffant one's piece …

It so filled the pond with nausea, that the pond had to reach for an infallible Pope cartoon, and swallow it immediately, with more papal cures on offer here …

The pond felt immediately restored … the one who lost his seat on the job, and the onion muncher in beta testing before finally the kraken is unleashed … and better yet, there was only one gobbet left in the pond's coverage of the reptile coverage …

Hmm, if the pond were to judge the reptile coverage - and why not, it can be as one-eyed a referee as the reptiles - the reptiles sounded a little glum, and couldn't come to terms with what might have been a fairly straightforward story …

As for the pond, what can it do but renew its call for some genuine reptile loonacy of the "anything but the election" kind … because fatigue has already set in, what with the reptiles spinning like the pond's wired washing machine … a condition analysed by the astute Rowe, with more Rowe analysis here …