In which the pond dallies with the Angelic one and watches as Dame Slap whacks a cracker up the clacker ...

Sorry, the pond is just doing a bait and switch. There's Lloydie this very day, still in a state of fear and loathing, while yesterday the dog botherer was out and about showing the same kind of deep anxiety about Greta.

The best thing to do with dickheads of the dog botherer kind is to ignore them, and the more that the dog botherer ranted about climate science denialism this week, the more the pond was cheered up by the thought that it now only visits the reptiles on the weekend, and through the week other carers look after them.

There's the Weekly Beast, for example, looking at the feral Bolter, the Pellists and the HUN, and checking out the Greta coverage here, charting the anger of middle-aged white men hurling insults, including, it goes without saying, "…the Australian's resident climate contrarians Chris Kenny and Graham Lloyd …"

Contrarians? That's a kindly temperate word for climate denialist wankers ...

It felt odd to see the dog botherer and Lloydie given names, but the Beast also celebrated the hoax photo, pulling off pundits like the parrot, and assorted other pleasures, it being a very rich week for reptile stupidities and follies.

But the pond didn't want to do the AWMAM ranting thing, and so went into the back passages of the lizard Oz commentary section, and came up with this assortment of offerings ...

Ah, an AWMAW ranting away, a little late to join the herd and swill the denialist kool aid, but all the same, the reptiles will probably drag her out on Sunday some time and make her a feature, because you can never have enough of a carryon about climate science denialism …

To help stray punters, the pond sampled the Angelic one's bio so that they could see that she had impeccable credentials in the scientific arena, and so wrote with impeccable reptile paranoia about transphobia, and the importance of a diligent approach to housework … surely all that was needed to become an expert in climate science ...

Of course the actual bumpf was just more of the same, of the dog botherer kind, rabbiting on about panics, fear and loathing, which meant no actual science had to be studied, referenced or included … just standard reptile condescension of a vitriolic kind ...

Ah, the old "far from being a normal teenager" slur, delivered with the usual grace by a barking mad Catholic fundamentalist, who presumably thinks belonging to Opus Dei should be the aim of "normal teenagers."

Happily, because the pond has little tolerance these days for reptiles, First Dog had a handy cartoon, available here in full, which was all that needed to be said about the Angelic one's opening ploy…

Well yes, but the Angelic one was just warming to her task, and began blathering about rational sense of proportion and rational discussion, and sneering at the poisonous cheese, while actually demonstrating not the first inkling or clue about any knowledge of climate science - and the pond dares say, history - herself ...

It's impossible to deal with this level of moronic self-congratulation, the conversion of science into a cult - by a Catholic cultist no less - and blather about neo-Marxist materialism without feeling the need to head out to the garden, and puke into the shrubbery … so the pond decided it needed more help from First Dog …

Well yes, but actually it's impossible to send up someone from the condescending school of Angelic one sneering, and the last gobbet was a ripper …

Here's the thing. If you lived through the Cuban missile crisis, you had quite a good understanding of the possibility of nuclear annihilation. And if you bothered to actually read any of the science and look at the observations of what's happening in the world, the melting, the permafrost fading, the acidification of the oceans proceeding, the assorted extinctions mounting, you might actually think that the world is facing a dangerously unstable future.

But if you read the lizard Oz, you're more likely to be one of Plato's dummies, looking at the shadows dance on the wall of the cave … with the Angelic one handing out popcorn to sooth your anxieties …

Never mind, if you believe in her fairy stories, the rapture is just around the corner, and she and her 'normal' brood will be swept up by an ecstatic Catholic vision of the world redeemed by the magic of wafers and altar wine, or some such thing ...

And so, because the pond always insists on a bonus for a meditative Sunday, it was time to look around for a second offering …

Through the week, the reptiles had done their usual moral panic about a fundamentalist bigot, with Dame Slap leading the charge, but with the meritorious Merritt chipping in …

 

Of course, it's rich and redolent in irony, what with the reptiles banging on about cults and science as a cult, and so on and so forth ...

But the pond, and apparently the world, or at least rugby league, is well over the Folau matter, and besides whenever the pond thinks of Dame Slap these days, it harks back to her previous fabulous efforts ...

Pardon the pond sniggering, but how's that been working out of late?

Never mind, it's way past time to fuck Britain in the same way as the MAGA-cap-donners have fucked the United States, and Dame Slap was on the case, even though others - such as dear 'hole in the bucket' Henry - had been at it too, with Henry out and about on Friday …

But dear 'hole in the bucket' Henry is far too genteel for the pond.

What's needed is talk of inserting a cracker up the clacker, just to show that brutalist barbarity isn't reserved for men ...

They don't have a body? Hmm, that'll make shoving a cracker up the clacker, in a nuanced, subtle and genteel way, a tad difficult.

Here, have a Rowson, it might help stray readers cope with the image of a feral Dame Slap trolling Freudians and roaming the street, with a cracker to hand, ready to shove it up someone's anus …

More Rowson here, but now it gets tiresome, because once more we get the 'leet Dame coming down from her ivory tower in her school above the faraway tree to deliver a standard rant about the people vs. the leets, because what could be more peeple-ish, than blathering about Prometheus? So it's on with feeding the trolls ….

There's no point in attempting to diluting this sort of prime, rich horseshit (though the pond contends that cowshit makes better plant food) …

Instead the spectral level of lies, distortions and outright nonsense - up there with the lies that Boris himself used to scribble from Europe, until he scribbled too many lies and got the sack - cries out for another Rowson spectre …

Not that the pond cares that much. The sooner that little Britain comes into being, the Scots get restless, the Irish get tricky, the stupid Poms think the Donald might help bail them out, and then in desperation they turn to the tattered remnants of the commonwealth, the better for all concerned.

Brexit isn't going to fix anything to do with unemployment, or northern stagnation, or help with trade with Britain's biggest trading partner, but all the toffs who are shorting the pound are going to make a motza … the likes of toffy Rees-Mogg are going to be laughing all the way to the bank.

Rees-Mogg’s hedge fund, Somerset Capital Management, is managed via subsidiaries in the tax havens of the Cayman Islands and Singapore. He has defended the use of such tax havens, saying “I do not believe people have any obligation to pay more tax than the law requires.” And the laws that look set to stand in the way are planned new EU regulations aimed at governing the behaviour of companies such as his own. Sign up to our Brexit weekly briefing Read more He has also enthused about the potential to slash environmental and safety laws after Britain leaves the EU. Regulations that were “good enough for India” could be good enough for Britain, he has argued. To back up this worldview is a network of self-styled thinktanks, with opaque funding sources and a passionate commitment to classical liberal economics. Leading the charge has been the Institute of Economic Affairs (IEA), with which Rees-Mogg is associated. Its roots lie in attempts to oppose the Attlee-Bevan move to the left after the second world war that brought us the NHS and the welfare state. The IEA’s mission is to promote small government and freedom for so-called “wealth creators”. Or to put it more accurately, ultra-rich individuals and corporations. The IEA saw Brexit as an enormous opportunity: a once-in-a-generation chance to create a more flexible, open and vibrant economy with less bureaucracy and protectionism, for which read signing up for trade deals that lower environmental and consumer standards. (here)

That's the trouble with clueless sheep, waiting to be shorn, and so it's back to a little more herding by Dame Slap, sounding high-minded though actually spouting pure self-serving bunkum ...

For some reason, that last rich bout of blather reminded the pond of how Dame Slap, down from her planet, thought she was at one with the deplorables …remind the pond how that movie is playing out at a theatre near you?

But back to the task of fucking up, and fucking over Britain, which Dame Slap could manage just as easily as her tireless efforts for the United States … though sadly this is the last gobbet for the moment ...

All that talk of shoving a cracker up the bum and watching it explode made the pond go a little Freudian for the moment …

...but then the pond realised it was part of a Great Australian Tradition of taking pleasure in cruelty ...

Nearly a dozen other dogs came from round all the corners and under the buildings—spidery, thievish, cold-blooded kangaroo-dogs, mongrel sheep- and cattle-dogs, vicious black and yellow dogs—that slip after you in the dark, nip your heels, and vanish without explaining—and yapping, yelping small fry. They kept at a respectable distance round the nasty yellow dog, for it was dangerous to go near him when he thought he had found something which might be good for a dog to eat. He sniffed at the cartridge twice, and was just taking a third cautious sniff when—— It was very good blasting powder—a new brand that Dave had recently got up from Sydney; and the cartridge had been excellently well made. Andy was very patient and painstaking in all he did, and nearly as handy as the average sailor with needles, twine, canvas, and rope. Bushmen say that that kitchen jumped off its piles and on again. When the smoke and dust cleared away, the remains of the nasty yellow dog were lying against the paling fence of the yard looking as if he had been kicked into a fire by a horse and afterwards rolled in the dust under a barrow, and finally thrown against the fence from a distance…

Yes, there's nothing like an explosion observed from a safe distance, with guts and blood and flesh and bones flung about like an unspooling John Wick movie, for genuine entertainment …

Roll on Brexit, and what fun to see the country explode ...

But, on reflection, captivating though it might be, the pond prefers Dame Slap's other work, which has produced splendid entertainment, perhaps involving bears, or the digging of holes …

In which a busy reptile week is topped off by prattling Polonius and the feckless bromancer in fine fettle ...

It was the week where the humbug clown and the orange man took the honours - more of that anon - but anyone following the reptiles will realise that it was the week they became terrified of a young girl, and so there was much talk of cults.

Anyone with a long memory will recall that the reptiles began the week with an exhilarating line-up, with the Major at the top of the heap.

It was the day when a UN report had noted that the world was on track to experience its five hottest years in a row on record … with more dire reports to follow during the week ...yet there was Moorice berating the doctors, and the dog botherer blathering about the climate ‘debate’ - his favourite device these days when framing his climate science denialism.

Well might it be said, per the Major, that readers can’t get the full picture of the world and science if they devour only reptile red meat, masquerading as ‘news’ and informed opinion …

Crikey had the astonishing idea that denialism should be banned …

But if that were to happen, the reptiles would lose many news stories and most of their regular columnists. Who would lead the chants of clean dinkum Oz coal, oi, oi, oi? The idea’s absurd, like asking luddites to subscribe to the Modern Technology weekly …

What would happen to Lloydie? What would happen to all his mates? Would, at some future time, the world produce a new Nuremburg trial, in which climate criminals would be taken down? If so, the written record, the paper trail, the endless tree-killing wouldn't be hard to find …

 

Oh there was much talk of 'practicality' and the master magician wheeled out talk of 'plastics' - shades of The Graduate - as an epic distraction for being booed and spurned …think "practical plastics" and practical plasticity, and Lloydie was on the job …

 

Was it only at the beginning of the week that SloMo’s cult friend - Brian Houston - was too hot to handle even for the Trump administration, full as it is of cultists, loons and people who talk of their wives as ‘mother’?

We really have entered into peak end times when SloMo’s mob is weirder than the Donald’s…can the rapture be at hand?

On Thursday the reptiles had to wheel out Furious Frank to deal with the matter …

And the Mocker chimed in, sounding awfully like the dog botherer, along with another import to maintain the rage and the fear …

Through the week Lloydie and the dog botherer team tagged, and did their very best … and the dog botherer was still at it today ...

 

Well, give the dog botherer his due. At least 'hyperbole' is a variation on 'debate' …

The enfeebled, witless oscillating fan decided it wasn't science, it wasn't even a debate, it was a "discussion", and presumably, sadly, there were a few who weren't being gentlemen and coming out of the amateur gate …

Yes, it's all bloody nuance when you're up yourself ...

Happily the bromancer was there to elevate the discourse in a way that’s become more familiar in recent reptile times.

Crackers!

The pond shed a few tears for the passing of ‘barking mad’ and ‘howling at the moon’, but it’s the season of Guy Fawkes, so 'crackers' it must be …

Alongside the talk of crackers, Wednesday reports wandered in Boris and of the Donald’s speech at the UN, including such bon mots as:

Wise leaders always put the good of their own people and their own country first. The future does not belong to globalists. The future belongs to patriots.

Yes, it wasn't only the upstart young girl the reptiles had to fear … though the Donald's speech reminded the pond of a certain book, which - because the pond’s Godwin’s Law swear jar broke under the strain, the pond will not mention - but in the translation of that certain book the pond consulted to assist in understanding the Donald, there were 91 mentions of ‘international’, almost all warning of the dangers thereof to true patriots. ('Internationalist' being the way that globalists were evoked at the time).
The warnings took in all areas of life. For example:

The education which makes them the devotees of such abstract notions as 'Democracy', 'International Socialism', 'Pacifism', etc., is so hard-and-fast and exclusive and, operating as it does from within outwards, is so purely subjective that in forming their general picture of outside life as a whole they are fundamentally influenced by these A PRIORI notions. But, on the other hand, the attitude towards their own German nationality has been very objective from youth upwards. The Pacifist--in so far as he is a German--who surrenders himself subjectively, body and soul, to the dictates of his dogmatic principles, will always first consider the objective right or wrong of a situation when danger threatens his own people, even though that danger be grave and unjustly wrought from outside. But he will never take his stand in the ranks of his own people and fight for and with them from the sheer instinct of self-preservation.

But forget deluded, misguided students of the wretched Swedish internationalist kind, workers were deluded too:

The most difficult obstacle to the reunion of our contemporary worker in the national folk-community does not consist so much in the fact that he fights for the interests of his fellow-workers, but rather in the international ideas with which he is imbued and which are of their nature at variance with the ideas of nationhood and fatherland. This hostile attitude to nation and fatherland has been inculcated by the leaders of the working class. If they were inspired by the principle of devotion to the nation in all that concerns its political and social welfare, the trades unions would make those millions of workers most valuable members of the national community, without thereby affecting their own constant struggle for their economic demands.

As for fake news:

The function of the so-called liberal Press was to dig the grave for the German people and REICH. No mention need be made of the lying Marxist Press. To them the spreading of falsehood is as much a vital necessity as the mouse is to a cat. Their sole task is to break the national backbone of the people, thus preparing the nation to become the slaves of international finance and its masters, the Jews.

It reminded the pond that the reptiles were actually part of a vast globalist conspiracy led by Chairman Rupert, preparing the nation to become the financial slave of Chairman Rupert.

By Wednesday, the reptiles had moved into classic counter-revolutionary modes. Lloydie was full of uncertainty, and saucy doubts and fears, as he always is, and another blathered on about cults, though the pond can’t count the time that members of the reptile cult accused others of cultism. To waste years on this kool aid of the mind, why it was like visiting a journalistic Jonestown … where in the one breath a fundamentalist cultist of the Folau kind can be praised to the heavens and another cultist damned for all eternity for actually accepting what scientists are observing in the world …

Luckily there was an infallible Pope to bring closure to this part of the week …

And so at last to today's offerings, and what a ripper set they were …

Now the pond could only deal with two out of three - but two out of three ain't bad, and as boring as batshit all the same - but in any case, it was deemed that the bouffant one's arse-licking of SloMo was simply too obscene to feature …

And the pond should note that everything is a waste of breath, because the Donald had already been forgiven by the reptiles …

 

Yes, the fix was in, and Cam the man had it sorted with good news for the Donald, so perhaps it's wise for the pond to start with Polonius and those buffoons in the British Supreme Court …

Oh foolish judges … you thought you were merely calling a liar a liar for obviously lying, and you thought it had nothing to do with Brexit, but had to do with the lying. Please, allow Polonius to correct and enlighten you …

Of course there were other views of what went down, as here :

No surprise that the justices of the Supreme Court are now regarded as “fair game”, for the simple offence that they issued a judgment that was unhelpful to the Brexit cause. Their friendships, salaries, homes, relatives, careers and everything else is now, it would seem, open to attack. The aim – and I wonder how the laws of libel shall operate in such a world – is to undermine confidence in their competence, their impartiality and their job as protectors of all our rights and freedoms, and above all to impute their judgement with improper motives. A disgrace, but one for which there will be, apparently enough, legal redress. It is already happening. If you go for a stroll around the nuttier corners of the Leave Twittersphere, you will already see personalised attacks on the Supreme Court judges. They’re fairly pathetic. Sitting on the European Court of Human Rights, for example, is suggested as evidence for Europhiliac bias – even though the ECHR is not part of the EU and the UK ought to have representation on a body that sits in judgement on it. Watch more Boris Johnson deserves what the Supreme Court gave him: a humiliation Apparently some members of the Supreme Court are friendly with former newspaper editors. Some are well-off. Some charge the market rate for their services (just the same as a freelance journalist). And so on. It will no doubt get worse. The intrusions on their privacy and their honour will intensify. With no evidence whatsoever, we are asked to believe that they all voted Remain in the referendum. Maybe so, maybe not. Do any of them vote Conservative? Have they ever? It does not matter.

But our Polonius fancies himself as a Rees-Mogg down under, a languid ponce on the side of the peasants, so he can make a fortune from their folly:

Yes, indeed, indeed ...

The truth is that the extreme Leavers and their media allies have been here before. Do you recall the infamous newspaper headline “Enemies of the People” in 2016? That was the rabid reaction to a previous judgment, and a vicious assault on the senior judges’ integrity (in that case the High Court of England). There was some stuff about one of them being a “former fencing champ”, as if that was evidence of some sort of moral turpitude, and another was “professionally at least, a committed Europhile”, whatever that’s supposed to mean – though it was also conceded he was on the “right” side in other cases so far as the newspaper was concerned. God help us. But the point about the “Enemies of the People” episode is that it made no difference whatsoever to the independence of the judiciary. Indeed, it can now be seen to be counterproductive. It proves, were it needed, precisely how undemocratic and dictatorial the instincts of those who are now baying at what is now called, absurdly, the “Remain establishment”. Jacob Rees-Mogg, the leader of the House of Commons, called it a “constitutional coup”. Michael Gove suggests they are a just a bunch of academics chewing the fat – experts you might say the public have had enough of. They are, subtly, undermining the authority of the Supreme Court, by implying unworthy motives to the judges or querying their competence. This is dangerous talk, but for now at least the judges have held their nerve. No doubt finding some newspaper hack going through their bins or publishing photographs and addresses of their homes or running scurrilous articles about their children will be distressing to Lady Hale and her colleagues, but it will not work and will, as it has already, prove quite counterproductive.

And so to a final Polonial gobbet ...

What a strange and wondrous world it is, but let others have a final word ...

Johnson does not resemble an engagingly refreshing “outsider” as is suggested. This product of Eton and Oxford is just as “establishment” as the newspaper editors and writers who pretend otherwise. The 2016 referendum result has been wilfully misinterpreted as a sort of divine right to rule by a no-deal Eurosceptic extremist government, and it is no such thing. It is used as a trump card – the means justify the ends, Brexit “by all means necessary”. These personal attacks on the judges are in fact a sign of desperation – because Johnson’s Brexit strategy is collapsing under the weight of its own contradictions. Only by breaking the law can he get his way. That is not a great place to be. That is why we are in this mess. The judges should not be intimidated as they are in Italy or Venezuela or Iran, and be threatened with personal abuse and – not impossible – violence by newspapers and radicalised Leavers. Would some crazed activist try to attack a judge at home or in the street? The police say the fastest growing threat to security is coming from far-right extremism. Just remember the name Jo Cox, if you think such an event is unthinkable. It is not, and it tells us you everything you need to know about the dangers to life and limb, as well as our liberties.

And on that note, the pond turned to the bromancer, who tackled not only Boris but the orange one …

It's an epic, and only for reptile specialists, and the pond is already way over length, but hey, if you're going to get stuck in a traffic jam at the top of Everest, what better company than the bromancer?

Crackers! And of course, the 'leets, as if hauling in a tidy sum for being Chairman Rupert's keyboard slut didn't get you into the Valhalla of the 'leets ...

Yes, it's more of the same, and the pond immediately realised that only cartoons would save the day, and help stray readers last the distance, and luckily Rowe was on song … with more Rowe here …

Now remember that all this, lead by peasant Chairman Rupert, is a peasants' revolt, and the bromancer is at the forefront, a regular sans-culotte ...

Fair and square? Oh does the bromancer love his Vlad the impaler or what?

And now for a classic bromancer. It seems the Donald might have "behaved badly" and deserves a little criticism. But fair dibs, what's wrong with lying, cheating, philandering, consorting, conspiring, and confusing everything with your own narcissist self-interest?

It's not necessary to sign up to a conspiracy to produce an epic deep state conspiracy? 

You know, there was once a time when nuns lectured and hectored the pond about the ten commandments and lying and all that stuff, but these days, nobody - especially the reptiles, the Murdochians and the bromancer - give a flying fuck about that stuff any more …

Well there's no way this sort of obfuscation and support of a lying sack of fraudulent corruption is going to be done in a few words … but please, don't say you weren't warned. Just roll the jaffas down the aisle at lines like "Trump and Johnson are fighting for the soul of the West."

Some soul … but at least lying is now the endorsed norm, and the pond can already see all the black specks on the sacred heart of Jesus that the nuns kept going on about ...

Oh fucketty fuck, he'd try to make it all sound perfectly reasonable and respectable … that's what comes of travelling overseas, and returning with a soiled mind …

And still the bromancer bangs on, or should that be whistles?

Ah, it's the old "two sides" routine, done at great length …

Back to the masticating bromancer, chewing things over at endless length, and pronouncing both the Donald and the Boris very tasty humbugs … (whatever happened to the humbugs we used to get in Tamworth before the war?)

Indeed, indeed. Why can't they use simple, non-inflammatory language like 'crackers' and 'barking mad' … or a 'howling at the moon' by loonies escaped from the leftist lunatic asylum if you must?

Actually reading the bromancer is what produces the blankness, and the desire to shovel the dirt ...

Actually the pond really doesn't care that Boris is busy fucking up Britain, and that the orange one is busy fucking up the United States and the planet. The pond will be long gone by the time the shit really hits the fan …and the gongs are handed out …

And the reptiles, those still around, will be able to totter off to the Nuremburg climate trials, and take their medicine …

Meanwhile, the pond will keep on watching movies while the power holds out, so that assorted references can be enjoyed …

The hole truth? The reptiles can't handle the truth …and there's not a good man amongst them, let alone a woman, not while they love their pussy-grabbing liars ...