How goeth the reptile war on China, what with Twiggy throwing a fast curve ball (no, the pond knows not what it means, apart from tricky tedium)?
As always, the cult master had an image which conjured up a world of pain arising from the new war …
But image aside, the pond can't waste precious time on a big day out with the reptiles by dallying with the corporeal Korporaal …
You see, Moorice has spoken … and whenever Moorice speaks, the pond jumps to attention, especially when it's to help with the war on China …
Strange, back in the day, in 1995 to be precise, the climate denialist, coal-loving Moorice - we must keep those Chinese coal-fired power stations operating! - was something of a pioneer …
But I guess once you've made your squillions you can take a more relaxed approach, and join the pond in demanding a boycott of China, beginning with a refusal to ship any more coal to China, just to teach 'em a lesson ...
Of course when it comes to praising China's work and transparency, Moorice could have looked closer to home …
Why is it that the reptiles never go there?
Never mind, there's still time for Moorice to join the pond in a trade war the like of which the cunning, fiendish Chinese have never seen before …a trade war using coal, which will make the Donald's trade war seem like trade war diet Coke lite ...
Well, the pond is no lover of the Chinese government, but isn't that simply pathetic?
What the fuck does a cliché like "time will tell" mean, followed by the bullshit of "national interest means we should not return to business as usual."
What the fuck does a cliché like "time will tell" mean, followed by the bullshit of "national interest means we should not return to business as usual."
Why stop just when it might have got interesting. Does Moorice have even one single proposal, one humble suggestion, as to how we might not return to business as usual? Nope, nada, zip, nihil, nothing...
Come on reptiles, show some spine, this isn't 1939. It's not just a matter of dropping a few pamphlets and a column by Moorice by parachute over Beijing …
Come on reptiles, show some spine, this isn't 1939. It's not just a matter of dropping a few pamphlets and a column by Moorice by parachute over Beijing …
Confronted with this crisis, the pond turned to the bromancer for a second opinion.
Maybe he'd be made of sterner stuff than Moorice … maybe he'd give Twiggy a serve for his uppity ways and his kowtowing and his impudent assistance with testing ...
Maybe he'd be made of sterner stuff than Moorice … maybe he'd give Twiggy a serve for his uppity ways and his kowtowing and his impudent assistance with testing ...
And indeed the bromancer started strongly, with a dose of Janus-faced mythology and hyper-driven schizophrenic analysis of a Freudian kind ...
Shocking stuff, almost as shocking as the notion that the humble Hunt wouldn't have turned on his heels at once, left the room, left the building, and spurned the tests … but what do you know, the bromancer himself sounded humble, and remarkably positive, because, let's face it, we're all in this together ...
Yes, yes, but what to do, apart from the anodyne stupidity of "time will tell", and the bullshit of "national interest means we should not return to business as usual", because everyone knows that once the virus is a little bit more under control, the reptiles will return to climate science denialism, and shipping coal and iron ore to China, to keep those coal-fired power stations running, and to make sure it's business as usual, especially as the Australian economy is fucked with a capital F.
Say what? Et tu bromancer?
"… there's likely very little we can do to make it better."
"… there's likely very little we can do to make it better."
So it is just a phoney war, and the bromancer just put up his paws in surrender, and the pond felt like dropping another 1939 pamphlet, but instead decided to drop a cartoon …
… which of course is a segue into that other war currently doing the rounds …
Today Holman W. Jenkins was imported from the WSJ editorial board to take up the work of the valiant Adam, sometimes known as the admirable Crichton (not that the reptiles acknowledged the WSJ source, in much the same way that they refuse to admit Dame Slap is now an IPA hack), but the context at the top of the page wasn't the best one for the visiting Yank …
… what with the notion that the old should nobly die to save the economy in the Swedish way a tad upsetting next to a picture of an heroic old duck on the front line … and Boris presiding over a handshaking herd immunity disaster ...
… what with the notion that the old should nobly die to save the economy in the Swedish way a tad upsetting next to a picture of an heroic old duck on the front line … and Boris presiding over a handshaking herd immunity disaster ...
Oh who wouldn't turn to the US for advice, with so much winning?
(here for that graph and more)
Strangely, the hyperactive bromancer had transformed himself from China specialist to doctor in a trice, or perhaps a nanosecond, and he had expert words on the subject … with an evocative image that surely would have charmed Holman W. Jenkins and fulfilled his wildest dreams …
Why young Adam must have reeled away in horror. What had the bromancer been taking? Surely there was a strong case to ...
… or at least run a Donald cartoon …
And yet the bromancer persisted in his heresy, sounding for all the world like that dreadful Dr Swan from the reprehensible alarmist ABC ...
What to say, what do do? Where's young Adam when he's needed? What about that damned Yankee Holman chappie and his love of the Swedes?
The pond was alarmed. Sure, the bromancer was following the government line, but what if the bromancer and the government happened to be more right than the fuckwitted Yanks following the Fox line? Had we reached a peak level of Murdochian schizophrenia?
Well yes …
And now, even though the pond acknowledges it has meandered on far too long, and really should break off and do another post, the pond insists that it must serve up its daily dose of the savvy Savva.
Why? Well the savvy Savva today carried the imprimatur of the cult master, and even exhausted pond readers know that they must stand in awe and respect, and carry on regardless of all the previous winning …
Is that not inspirational? A phoenix in the shape of a galah rising from the ashes, and the beaked wonder hinting at a bizarre spectral Canberra figure emanating from the marketing department?
Lay on McSavva … and why not, for starters, smote the Trumpists ...
Uh oh. It was all going swimmingly, what with the ravaging of the Donald, and the celebration of SloMo, and then the pond came to the immovable "But" of the billy goat variety, and the chance of slipping in an immortal Rowe seemed to be slipping, but what the heck …
But now it seems that the war on China has turned into the war in Cooma, and the savvy Savva wasn't sounding that confident that things would go well in the new battlefield …
Yes, yes, yes, but surely there's some hope? Perhaps an infallible Pope cartoon might help?
Oh that didn't strike the right note, naughty infallible Pope, and nor did the but butting savvy Savva ...
Damn you infallible Pope, with your joke about schools and disadvantage.
Please try again, perhaps with a joke about the bridge to the other side, even if cruelly truncated by the gallery format ...