In which the pond inflicts the cut and paste test on the Caterist and Mitch ...

The pond likes to dip a toe in reptile waters ginger-like before the main game, so it can relish sights such as the "tale of two polls." 

Poor, hapless reptiles … it must be hard working for Pravda down under, and discover that outside the bubble many don't see journalists at work, but rather cheerleading, forelock-tugging hacks, always standing by to put the best gloss on things. After all, in the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed hack reptile journalist is king.

How silly will it get in the coming weeks? Well this sighting at Media Watch was an apocalyptic, end times, rapture ripper …

Take a chill pill dude, but even the oscillating fan was on hand to tug the forelock, do some cheerleading, and raise hopes and dreams and desires …

Then there are the distilled essence of comedy efforts, as offered by the bromancer this day ...

Why such a rich laugh? Well the reptiles do persist in the notion that scribbling for the lizard Oz is a form of work involving productivity. Pravda down under involves productivity?

Really it would have read better if the bromancer had furiously scribbled "Like many Melbourne workers, my wanking in public was diminished because of vegan militants' attitude to pounding meat."

Too far, as Colbert might say? Never mind, as a devoted meat eater, the pond didn't want to dally, and instead decided to revert to day-old Caterist. Unfortunately an aged Caterist isn't quite the same as a well-hung aged steak …

Bob Dylan? Did the Caterist pause for a nanosecond to remember that this metaphor put him in the company of ancient luddite folkies of the Pete Seeger kind, allegedly wanting to cut the cables with an axe? That's the company he wants to keep, old sociology student, folkie, greenie, hippie, cash in the paw federal government dole bludging man that he is?

Yes, the reptiles have found another deep cause for unsettling alarm, as the future looms in the future …

They're always in a panic, the reptiles, the future terrifies them, with the Caterist a master of reductionist ludditism ...

When the pond is feeling lazy it likes to do a cut and paste, so it thought it might be poignant to put the Caterist up against another column that recently landed in the lizard Oz …

Hang on, hang on, the Caterist is determined to stay acoustic, hassled by his electric-phobia ...

Uh huh … accuracy and the Caterist? Now there's an oxymoron.

How long's a piece of string, or perhaps a custom gauge nickel wound guitar string, since the Caterist answer is as moronic as that of comrade Bill's, there being all sorts of ways to charge an electric vehicle involving assorted times …depending on your car and if it's at home or in a fast charge public outlet …

Publicly accessible ‘fast charger’ or ‘super charger’ outlets provide power to the battery at a faster rate. The rate of charge is usually from 25 kW to 135 kW and can recharge an EV battery in around 30 minutes.  (here). Or overnight if at home ...

But your Caterist isn't interested in subtlety, nuance or the truth. His real expertise is in the movement of flood waters in quarries, not electric vehicles, so there's more cut-and-pasting to be done ...

But what need of electric guitars, when every old folkie knows that the only right and true way to twang away with the Caterists is to cut the cord ...

Okay,  the pond will pass over the NBN nonsense because there's more on that to follow, and settle for a last cut and paste ...

Sorry Paul Sernia, clearly you're part of the cult of the electric guitar, and the Caterist must have the last luddite word …

The pond has no idea why the Caterist insists on making remarkably stupid comparisons, when his real expertise is in predicting the movement of flood waters in quarries, or perhaps indulging in climate science denialism, or filling out the forms for another Department of Finance grant …

Uh huh, quarter of a mill, respectable enough, but here ...

Strangely, unless you went to Trump university, a quarter mill doesn't trump two mill, and why would anyone expect it to be different? And then, et tu Porsche, here …

It says something about the Caterist that Porsche's large electrified penis doesn't appeal to him, and he'd rather yowl along to a battered, ancient deplugged guitar … what a complete folkie doofus, as even the lizard Oz resident cartoonist might joke …

The pond suspects it was the vegans that damaged the Caterist ability to hunt out data and increase his productivity ...

And so to the next cut and paste, as the reptiles fulfil their duties as Pravda down under and publish the latest ministerial thoughts under protection of a paywall, so that actual citizens and constituents can only access them by paying a handsome stipend to Chairman Rupert …

Poor Mitch, the dummy left holding the cat in the bag, the man who didn't score a chair in that game of musical chairs…

And what do you know, the very same day the reptiles had been running this piece, they were also running headlines showing various states of reptile alarm …

So take it away Mitch, and please excuse the lazy pond for doing a cut and paste …

Wait, the pond doesn't need the cut and paste for that one, the pond knows the answer.

The onion muncher could tell Malware to destroy the NBN, and Malware could set about destroying the NBN, achieving it in a way beyond his wildest dreams, because of the deluded belief that he knew what he was doing, though he'd had no experience in building networks and he proceeded to tell the NBN to use a polyglot mixed bag of multiple technologies which produced a network that will take decades and much expenditure to fix, and might never actually be made to work as it should have …

Never mind, time for that good old cut and paste ...

The pond understands that poor old Mitch inherited the wrong end of the pineapple, and now has to squirm away as best he can.

The pond even feels a twinge of sympathy for his attempts to put lipstick on a FTTN green box pig … and isn't the opening line in the next gobbet a beauty?

Commonsense? Malware? By golly it's a feast of oxymorons this day.

A repository of commonsense? That's what they're calling the foolish fop these days, even as they shuffled his common sense out the door?

Ah pricing, and the ACCC, and the pond can feel the next cut and paste coming on …

The result's such a dog, such a technological turkey, that even the old government dream of flogging it off to the private sector so that their mates could make a killing has taken something of a battering ...

Never mind, Mitch has only got a little splutter left in him, the little NBN rocket that took to the sky and then fell in the mud ...

Um, perhaps quoting the ACCC this day wasn't the wisest move, but as always the reptiles were standing by to help clean up the mess.

Having run the ACCC comments, they naturally spent the last bit of the ACCC gobbet reassuring everyone that everything was for the best in copper world … because copper can do it better than fibre, in much the same way that electric guitars make a hideous wail up against that sweet sound generated by ancient folkies of the Caterist kind ...

See how the reptiles manage to regurgitate the government word, and deny the heretics at the ACCC? What a noble calling it is to be a hack at the lizard Oz ...

Oh, the pond could be cruel, the pond could compare the remarkable speed of the roll-out by the Chinese government, albeit so that they could construct the first state up there with George Orwell's vision of the future …

But the pond felt the need to close with a laugh rather than a dystopian vision, and what better way than a Rowe, with more Rowe here, and electric guitars and cars somehow still the go ...