Blessed by the infallible Pope ...

It really was an exceptional cartoon, and the pond felt blessed by the infallible Pope, which is no real excuse to do a Melba, a Farnham, an Elton John, or a Dylan, though he never even pretended that he stopped …

But the pond would like to thank all those who offered a kind word on the pond's retirement from daily blogging, it really was much appreciate and the pond indulged and indulged, like chocolate on a winter's day, except in Sydney we wonder if there's going to be a winter … sssh, don't mention reptile climate science denialism … oh, and to preen a little and bask in the reflected glory of that Pope exceptional cartoon …

The pond was swept into koan territory …

So many exceptional cartoons and so the pond became enlightened ...

As for missing it? How does it feel to stop banging head on wall? The pond was reminded of the story of the pond's son's snake. It was a handsome enough reptile, and to feel it wrapped around the neck and shoulders was to know that in the wild it could crush an innocent thing to death quickly enough …

And then there was the added bonus of the horror and disgust some felt. You actually keep a reptile, you enjoy herpetological studies, they would say, as they reeled back in fear from what they thought would be a slimy touch, until they plucked up the courage and experienced the reptile's smooth, beguiling skin ...

Reptile studies, it turns out, is a bit like Eve in the Garden, before being assigned complimentary women duties by an angry Sydney Anglican …

But then comes the tedious reality … for much of its time, when not sitting on its hot rock, the python would roam about, crapping wherever it felt like, pissing on things, creating a snaky stink, knocking things off the mantelpiece, getting stuck in the toilet, or in a hole in the wall as it sought the outside world, and then there was the keeping of dead rats and the microwaving and the feeding, nothing but reptile duties, onerous, burdensome, repetitious, ennui, tedium, existential angst, piss, crap, shit, dead rats, pissy stinky reptile smell, day in, day out …

Well as we're speaking of reptiles pissing and shitting all over the place, the pond must make mention of one comment, which wondered if Polonius ever read the pond. 

The pond will likely never know and likely never care, but wondered if it might be fun to torment the prattler on a weekly basis … no comeback as such, just an occasional dose of humbug, verbiage and pompous pedantry …

But this weekend brought a reminder of that dead rat reality … look at them, see how moronic repetition is the key to the Donald and the reptiles …

Yes, there was Lloydie, insisting yet again it was just a polarised global debate. Here no actual science, no actual science here, just more talk of debate, and perhaps theology might also enter the discussion … and the pond has been there a thousand times before, and when Tamworth runs out of water, don't come crying to the pond … remember, you're not experiencing reality, you're just enjoying a polarised global debate …

And then there was prattling Polonius below him, blathering away …

And here's why the pond gave it up, because the pond couldn't find a bookie that would lay odds on the prattler mentioning the lack of right wing analysts on the ABC …

The pond can stand the triumphalism, it was to be expected, and the pond would have likely had an equally adverse reaction to the triumphalism of comrade Bill if he'd got in. 

Now, comrade Bill is determined to do an onion muncher, and hang around like a bad smell, because, insiders tell me, he's always dreamed of being a PM, and now he can't imagine doing anything else, and nobody can work out how to get him to go away because he's no good at anything else … except stabbing leaders in the back and working behind the scenes to create a mess, in the onion muncher way. And how did Richard Marles, a bear of very little brain, get the deputy gig? The onion muncher Peter principle is alive and well …and Albo is already looking like his time has passed … thanks in no small part to the efforts of comrade Bill ...

But the pond digresses. You see, if it could have found a bookie, it could have retired rich by banking on prattling Polonius blathering on about that "conservative-free zone", as he's done a squillion times before …

Is there a special short cut key where if he's stuck for a word, Polonius hits it, and out comes some stodge, some porridge filler of that "conservative-free zone" kind, because whenever the pond watches the ABC, which is rare, there's always some IPA stooge to hand with an opinion? 

The relentless repetition as moronic as the Donald, and the pond, while filled with nostalgia, was also filled with nausea, because really it's just Polonius complaining that he never got a gig … but then nobody at Sky after dark thinks he's worth it either ...

What will David Speer make of having this dodderer come down from the attic and ruin The Insiders with his pedantry?

And the rest of it was full of the same old …with all the usual enemies doing their tour of tedious duty ...

Ah, the onion muncher, how's he doing?

Golly, nice work if you can get it, and with an explanatory statement and all at the Graudian …

But when thinking of international travel, the pond prefers the infallible Pope's explanatory statement …

And so to a final gobbet of Polonius, and as to be expected, the triumphalism is likely to linger for months ...

Did somebody mention religion?  The pond has been having a bad run of late, with The New Yorker running a tale of one atheist, who sounded good at first, but turned out to be some kind of Jesus-style socialist, though perhaps Giacomo Sartori's I Am God might offer some fun - see Cathleen Schine's NYRB review, sadly inside the paywall ...

Again the pond must turn to the infallible Pope …

Does the pond miss anything?

Well it misses the cartoons and the reader feedback, but not much else. 

At the moment, the pond's toilet reading is Norman Lindsay's tales of characters in The Bulletin, and the pond enjoys the way that whatever else has gone on, there's been a line of continuity in classic cartooning …

The pond these days would settle for simply running a few Pope and Rowe cartoons as a commentary … but then you can find infallible Pope here and the immortal Rowe here … and there's no point in being redundant, but what the hell Archie toujours gai, there's still some life in the old Dot and some pleasures to be had, and if running Polonius allows the pond to run a few more cartoons, then the pompous old pedant, the tedious old fart, the relentlessly blathering old bore might be useful after all …