In which the pond shamelessly abandons old favourites so that the Major, Jolly Joe and the dog botherer might roam wild and free ...

 

The pond can only do so much on a Monday, and was truly shocked, surprised and saddened that there was no room left at the inn for valiant stayers such as Moorice and the Oreo ... but something had to give, and in any case the Major offered a variation on Moorice, and provided much comedy relief, and that's essential on a Monday ...

You see, the pond has been vastly delighted and entertained by the way that the reptiles have been forced to give up on coal, and embrace gas, and yet still can't bear to let coal go, and the Major provided a perfect exemplar of this exquisite torture ...

As always, the Major was the only one to truly understand ...

Passing strange, but we have not yet done with the wonders of gas ...

Naturally the reptiles would put together a photo of two fiends from hell to frighten the readership, and now to the wondrous backflip from coal, with bonus approval of the Donald's climate science denialism

...

Ah indeed, it's those damned Parisians that forced the reptiles to embrace gas ... they had no choice ... but wait, now we come to the bit where the reptiles gaze fondly up each others arses to remind themselves that everything they say is true and quotable ... come on down, Major, show the hive mind at work, by drinking the bromancer kool-aid ...

And indeed the reptiles have reached a pragmatic solution, embracing gas, but still yearning for coal, while magically staying deep in the depths of the Donald's climate science denialism and hatred of climate science alarmists, with their wretched fake, or even faux, science ... and at this point, the pond has to ask, would not the Moorice be proud? 

If the pond had to drop him, then surely dropping him for the Major was the right and proper thing to do ...

And now, as we've been speaking of the Donald, why not a new pond favourite? Well that's to say a reptile favourite, and instead of going with the Oreo doing yet another tedious rant about comrade Dan and the like, surely it's better to keep up with the times?

Oh indeed, indeed, there is much cleverness on view ...

And now to admire the way that the Donald hung around with grifters, crooks, mobsters and criminals of the Don King kind ...

I

ndeed, indeed, and some might think that the Donald is a puppet of Putin, and while that's true, he's also a puppet for the Donald brand ...

But wait, the pond had promised to itself that it wouldn't use Jolly Joe as a cheap way to provide wriggle room for a few cartoons, not while we're ringside with Joe as he calls the shots ...

Besides, what need of cartoons, when the reptiles provide there own illustration, to help out as Jolly Joe yet again invokes the image of a fictional swing voter, with the sort of condescending sneer on his lips that might remind some of the old line about a cigar is a cigar (and how Jolly Joe loved his cigars) ...

The voters will love Barrett?

Former members of People of Praise and religious scholars have described an organization that appears to dominate some members’ everyday lives, in which so-called “heads”, or spiritual advisers, oversee major decisions. Married women count their husbands as their “heads” and members are expected to tithe 5% of their income to the organization.

According to a former member, Adrian Reimers, “all one’s decisions and dealings become the concern of one’s ‘head’, and in turn potentially become known to the leadership”.

Heidi Schlumpf, a national correspondent for National Catholic Reporter, called the group’s level of secrecy “concerning”.

Oh indeed, indeed ... the reptiles belong to a cult and so everybody else will love a cult, even one as really weird and wondrous as People of Praise. Complimentary women can't wait to join, and there's more reading at the Graudian here and here.

Sorry Oreo, sorry Moorice, but Jolly Joe has an advisory firm to plug and the pond has a few cartoons to slip in ...

And so to the bonus for the day, and sorry Oreo, sorry Moorice, no one can match the dog botherer for unmitigated loonery ...

As soon as a reptile writes a line about others being detached from reality, it's a sure sign they've slipped their moorings and headed far off to sea ... a bit like the Donald. As soon as he accuses someone of being a liar, or a crook, or heavily into drugs, you know it's projection, and that the Donald is a bald-faced liar, a crook, and has developed that peculiar sniffle from some kind of addiction ...

What's even funnier is when the dog botherer starts off by pretending that he only occasionally watches the ABC, when all the reptiles are addicted to the sport, and quite frankly probably would have nothing to write about if their ABC wasn't around ...

It's all the usual fun, but the pond is hoping, as we're deep in anal retentive territory, that stray readers won't mind the pond changing the subject entirely ...by drawing attention to Richard Cooke's piece in The Saturday Paper here which delivered a tremendous broadside at another pond favourite, and a reptile killer legend ...

…You might think these gossamer threads of bullshit would be swept away by subsequent events, that the bong-rip reasoning of “everyone dies, man” would look embarrassing after almost a million pandemic deaths. Wrong. Only an amateur columnist trips over trivialities such as real-world invalidation. Here, the lightweight divisional champion is The Australian’s Adam Creighton. Resoundingly wrong and out of his depth, it’s redundant to say Creighton has no experience in these complex areas, akin to saying a crayon has no experience driving a formula one car.

But rarely is such inexpertise combined with such conceit. On social media, as well as in his columns, Creighton has produced an unbroken skein of not only misinformation, but also misunderstanding about Covid-19, some sourced from crackpot international blogs. “Under 60, in good health? Crossing the road is more risky,” he inveighed in April, underestimating the virus’s risk by a factor of 35, according to economist John Quiggin’s calculations. Creighton later repeated the lie that the United States Centers for Disease Control and Prevention attributed only 6 per cent of Covid-19 deaths to the virus itself – a false factoid originating with the QAnon conspiracy (which, characteristically, he claimed not to have heard of).

Creighton has been frequently schooled by economists and public health specialists but has learnt nothing. Replying to the columnist on Twitter, one of these economists, Chris Edmond, a professor of economics at the University of Melbourne, pointed out that “it takes … some awesome degree of self belief to think you know better than experts in not one but two disciplines”. In a sense, it is the belief itself that is the real service being provided. This style of commentary can’t be called “writing” or “thinking” in the traditional senses – it’s an industrial item, in the same category as seafood extender or filler foam, something to be extruded at volume. Research and consideration would only gum up the production line….

…When these people do occasionally endorse forms of fiscal harm, it’s under the most telling circumstances. In 2017, during France’s most recent presidential election, Creighton’s tune was very different. Mentioning en passant that the outside prospect of a Muslim winning one day was “not especially gratifying”, the columnist endorsed Marine Le Pen. His choice, he admitted, would plunge Europe into chaos – “a financial crisis that would make 2008 seem mild” – but it would be necessary to uncouple la République from international finance: “It would be the price to pay for longer-term prosperity.” That choice of dynamic tradeoff is indicative: lockdowns to save lives are fascism and destroying the economy; but actual fascism is great, and worth destroying the economy for.

There's much more - the pond stuck in that elision just so it could get in a few of the juicy bits - and if you don't read The Saturday Paper and yet are a devotee of the reptiles and especially Killer Creighton, why not give it a g?

The pond's only excuse for the detour? Well it's only fair to, as the dog botherer is about to speak of TDS, when in reality, all the reptiles are barking mad, and routinely howl at the moon ...

Actually, it was the Donald himself who said that we'd have to wait and see, and Jolly Joe himself said that the Donald was likely to spend years in litigation, but that's the sublime stupidity of the dog botherer. Apparently he doesn't actually read the lizard Oz, or much else, he's so glued to the ABC ...

And so to a long gobbet to get most of the dog botherer out of the way ...

Stray readers will note that the pond hasn't bothered to get into an argument with the dog botherer, and that deserves an explanation. You see, the dog botherer is attempting to be whimsical and hinting at a domestic life, and offering the suggestion that his better half is full of wisdom, unlike him...

Apparently your dog botherer is just your everyday common or garden reptile moronic fuckwit, incapable of seeing the light and doing something sensible, and who could argue with that?

And now as we've already done "woke", surely the time is right for "virtue-signallers" because when it comes to a moronic set of catch-all terms of abuse, the reptiles run on a very limited supply of gas ...

Oh yes, they could, as surely as the reptiles put a loon like the dog botherer to air ...

And now, having done with the dog botherer and the reptiles for the day, time to celebrate and praise people of praise, with the pond unable to resist a final cartoon, a genuine yearning a for new world ...