In which Polonius is slighted by the reptiles simply for being pious, and the bromancer acts as a cartoon coat hanger ...

 

 

Dammit, there were slim pickings this day at the lizard Oz, and perhaps most shameful of all, the reptiles had held back prattling Polonius, and made him part of their second eleven village green team ...

It's true that the pond usually saves Polonius for a Sunday meditation, but Bjorn blathering about the joys of petrol sniffing, and the Killer killing off super is more important than Polonius? Outrageous ... step out from behind that arras, if you would Polonius ...

 

 

 

 

And what's even more shocking the brave lad was following the company line, full of Murdochian piety doing his bit for the Chairman, but where were the thanks? Banished to a Sunday? Not if the pond had anything to do with it ...

 

 

Funnily enough, the pond was looking for a place to celebrate Crikey's clown of the week award ...

 

Of course you'll need to get behind the paywall for all the hot links, but see how Polonius rises to the challenge ... with that immortal line "Take the ABC".  Of course this is just a subtle way for Polonius to celebrate his love of Henry 'Henny' Youngman and his line "Take my wife ... please..."

 

The pond loves the way that Polonius can spin on a dime and make everything and anything about the ABC ... suffused with a healthy dose of paranoia and a keen awareness of traitors, renegades, turncoats, Judas's, Arnold Benedicts, apostates, backsliders, betrayers and deceivers... and is there any better example of this contemptible breed than Speersie, flipping from Sky to the ABC, and so deserving everything he cops for his treachery ...

 

Oh how modern he is - our very own Polonius getting in a reference to cancel culture ...

Speaking of cancel, the pond was shattered that this day there was no follow-up to the coup circus on view in the United States ...

 

Yes, there was that yesterday, briefly,  and yesterday some attention was paid to another matter, but you'd have to turn to the infallible Pope for a reminder ...

 

 

 

Instead of any of those American or Australian distractions, today the reptiles heavy hitters - nattering "Ned" and the bromancer - decided it was all too hard and settled down for a chin wag about China.

It left the pond with another agonising choice, but in the end how could the pond walk around the bromancer, what with him offering a movie reference and all? Yes, it meant forsaking "Ned", but really, the pond is already over its Hunger Games limit and is it fair to inflict two gigantic bores blathering on about China when the bromancer alone can do the job?

 

The pond did miss the chance to run a few cartoons ... oh what the heck ...

Ah that felt better and the pond could get back to the business of the bromancer boring off socks and stockings with his talk about China, anything other than talking of Rudy and the melting hair, or murders in Afghanistan ...

Ah SloMo ... the pond was wondering when the bromancer might get around to him. But first a couple of totally irrelevant cartoons, because writing about the United States right now is too hard?

 

Ah, that's better, now back to the bromancer's cogent analysis ...

 

 

Buttered no parsnips? 

This proverbial saying is English and dates from the 17th century. It expresses the notion that fine words count for nothing and that action means more than flattery or promises. You aren't very likely to come across 'fine words butter no parsnips' as 20th century street slang - you are more liable to hear it in a period costume drama.
Potatoes were imported into Britain from America by John Hawkins in the mid 16th century and became a staple in what established itself as the national dish - meat and two veg. Before that, various root vegetables were eaten instead, often mashed and, as anyone who has eaten mashed swedes, turnips or parsnips can testify, they cry out to be 'buttered-up' - another term for flattery. Indeed, the English were known for their habit of layering on butter to all manner of foods, much to the disgust of the French who used it as evidence of the English lack of expertise regarding cuisine and to the Japanese, who referred to Europeans in general and the English in particular as 'butter-stinkers'. This butter habit is evidenced in the various forms of the expression that are found in print in the 1600s - 'fine/fair/soft words butter no parsnips/cabbage/fish/connie [rabbit]'. A typical example is this verse from John Taylor's Epigrammes, 1651:

Words are but wind that do from men proceed;


None but Chamelions on bare Air can feed;


Great men large hopeful promises may utter;


But words did never Fish or Parsnips butter..

The earliest version that I know of in print is in John Clarke's Latin/English textbook Paroemiologia, 1639:

Faire words butter noe parsnips, verba non alunt familiam. [words, no family support] (here)

 

Yes, the pond is a tad bored by the bromancer, period costume drama scribbler that he is, and seeking distractions. Perhaps a few more cartoons?

Sometimes the pond thinks the bromancer is even worse than "Ned" at full high powered natter, the way he loves to go on and on ... even resorting to a listicle to add to the padding ...

 

Uh huh ... the bromancer calling out Clive... now there's a remarkable sight, almost as remarkable as Miss Lindsey doing her thing ...

 

What a reptile waste, what a loss ... what a chance gone begging ...

Don't get the pond wrong, it's all been good, an emperor's feast, words scribbled, parsnips buttered, a few cartoons, where's the harm? But then came a moment the pond had been dreading ...

That's not smart diplomacy? Isn't it strange how time heals all wounds and aids in forgetfulness ...

The pond can't quote the bromancer at full length - we'd be here the entire weekend -  but has included the header, for those who can break the reptile paywall and chase it up, and the pond has also included a generous chunk of bromancer change, all the pretty gobbets lined up in a row, about the ways back then when we did our smart diplomacy ...

 

Well that was the start of the piece, and so to the gobbets full of meaty goodness about smart diplomacy at its smartest ...

 

And so on and so forth and et cetera.  It's always good to remember the past so that somehow we might avoid repeating it ...

That said, the pond did experience a flicker of doubt, a fear of the waiting snickering footman. Would the pond have been better off with "Ned", would "Ned" at least have got his memory in order, or was he too in the grasp of senility?

Never mind, what's done is done, smart diplomacy is no more, and now the pond must turn forward the clock, and arrive at the bromancer's final small gobbet this day ...

Masterful inactivity! And yet not so long ago the bromancer was singing a song of praise to the masterful activity of the federal government ...

Oh frabjous day, callooh, callay, 'twas brillig, and the slithy bromancer did gyre and gimble in the wabe ..

Meanwhile, how the pond mourns the chance for some genuine comedy, but at least there's always a Rowe, and more award-winning Rowe always here ...