A holiday celebration of the best the reptiles have to offer ...

 

 

Say what? Absolutely not. Where would that irresponsible attitude leave the pond and the Murdochians? Let the insanity continue, and to celebrate the prospect of the next year of reptile insanity, the pond thought it should present its culling of the very best offerings of the reptiles over the break.

From time to time, the pond dipped into the reptile stew, just to make sure that the second eleven was diligently at work, and was satisfied to see this sort of offering:

 

 

Good old Dame Groan, soldiering on over the break, well played Sanjeev Sabhlok, stout-hearted supporter of the right of people to die, and oh, what joy to see the bouffant one holding up an end by celebrating the larrikin spirit, and getting something or other pulled for his pleasure ...

But there have to be winners and grinners in this pond culling of highlights, and so the pond invites Killer Creighton to come on down to accept the award for first place...

 

 

It turns out that over the break the Killer had been doing a little ego surfing, self-googling if you will, and this inspired some self-reflection.  It turns out that he's not some extreme right wing rat bag, but rather a DLP type, lurking somewhere in the middle ages when it comes to matters such as women's rights and homosexuality, and at the same time, is something of a fundamentalist Catholic Keynesian ... but please, allow Killer to speak for himself ...

 

 

It's surely obvious why the Killer won ... though some might wonder why he turned out to be lucky, when some others weren't so in tune with the Killer zeitgeist ...

 

 

So it goes.

Of course there were doomsayers and neighmongers of the Charlotte Summers kind, out and about in the Graudian peddling dangerous nonsense, such as "Shield some and let others carry on? This Covid theory is dangerous and foolish."

But that's how Killer gets his kicks, living dangerously and foolishly ...

 

 

 

Or let's hope not. Let's hope the insanity continues, but some, including the ABC, decide to vaccinate themselves against the Killer doing a Colin Wilson and becoming a mind parasite emanating not just from the reptile stew, but also from the national broadcaster.

And so to the runner up, though it grieves the pond deeply to put the onion muncher in second spot. But early in the holiday season, the reptiles kept the onion muncher front and centre for an unhealthy, almost unseasonal, length of time, and the pond couldn't but help noticing ...

 

 

 

 

The onion muncher has been in astonishingly good narcissist, attention-seeking form this year. 

 

Who could forget this outing, reported on at the Graudian in full here back in September ...

 

 

 

 

 

The culling of the herd! Weaklings unfit for Sparta left out in the snow to die! Oh yes, Killer was under severe competition from the man who chewed onions to show his bravery and masculinity ...

 

The pond has no idea why we should be generally more fearful. Was it the thought some old chooks might have had that a knock on the door heralded a visit from the grim reaper, or at least the onion muncher, saying it's time to go now, the health economists have done a time and motion study of your viability, and it's mortal-coil shuffling kind?

Mystery on mystery, but on the onion muncher went ...

 

 

Indeed, indeed, it's instructive, as the pond contemplates the situation in New South Wales at the start of the New Year, to do an onion muncher and contemplate Gladys v. comrade Dan, but how was the onion muncher to know? 

Instead let us proceed on, because the onion muncher didn't earn second place by being mute, when prolix was called for ...

 

Or even the onion muncher's declaration that it's okay for old chooks to just fuck off out of the way. A sense of nationhood can take a little time to recover from the onion muncher's declaration that old chooks are just useless baggage standing in the way of a rational health economist's approach to life ...

 

Have a go? Yes, here's hoping that the barbeque-stopping Sir Tony heads off to save mother England ... because that'll that some doing, and it'll be all Poms on deck ...

And so to third place, and how could the pond avoid Polonius's summary of the year?

It had to be honored ...

 

 

 

 

 

The pond has, perhaps too often, in an anal obsessive, obsessive compulsive way, frequently remarked on  Polonius's obsessive compulsive, anal obsessive obsession with the ABC ... 

The pond rarely watches the ABC that much - it presents too many truly unique opportunities for singing 'we are one' - and is always startled by Polonius's intense loyalty and dedication to the brand, which allows all his fine instincts for carping and quibbling to come to the fore ...

 

But Polonius has other interests as well, and so he starts the year with his old sparring partner David Marr, no longer to be seen together on the couch in The Insiders, carrying on their mad uncle down from the attic routine ...

 

Luckily we know how politics is taught in the Sydney Institute. Fragrant memories of the DLP, and a deep abiding love for Pellism and the Catholic church ... and so on the pond went, because truly every moment of this litany was deeply ... Polonial ... with only the arras missing ...

 

 

Ah, you see, that's the time of year that Polonius had most time to sit and watch the ABC and brood, only occasionally flipping across to Ten so he could brood about another pet hate, that dreadful Waleed Aly ...

And so on to wrap up the rest of the year with a final gobbet, the total impact being what might be called a fair summary of the singular way that the reptiles interact with, and view the world ... 

So what about a little climate science denialism to kick things off in the final gobbet? Because, remember, as always, it's not the science that matters, it's the politics ... (poor Polonius doesn't like doing the science, which is why he's a hints and innuendoes sort of scribbler) ...

 

 

The end result?

Deeply weird shit. What a strange man he is ... and each time the pond gets a whiff, it is drawn back to a time to long ago, when First Dog first evoked the Pooter-ish effect of a whiff of Polonius ...

And so to a consolation prize ...

You see, each season the pond wonders what the reptiles will make of a seasonal celebration for such a wretchedly woke person.

Oh sure, Jesus was inclined to get angry and do a little temple wrecking and money-lender assaulting, and at times consign everybody to eternal hellfire and damnaton, but on his good days, he was sickeningly, nauseatingly woke, and we all know what the reptiles think of that lovey-dovey, do unto others woke nonsense ... oh how they hate the woke ...

 

 

I mean, the Xmas yarn's the epitome of migrant wokeness, with stables and all, and certainly sounds beyond the pale when it comes to the mutton Dutton's idea of stables ...

But the pond didn't want to go there, what with the Chilton nest full of weevils, and the  consequent temptation of wondering if being called Chilton had set the man off on a lifetime pursuit of the woke ... 

So instead the pond turned to the lizard Oz editorialist, grappling as best an editorial could with an outbreak of Xian wokeness at Xmas time ...

 

 

Indeed, indeed, so much suffering. How much better if the elderly just went off and discreetly carked it ... and while we're at it, why not open the borders, so that even more might die and wend their way to heaven? Or hell, or whatever the case, and wherever it might be ...

Now let us get on with some sickening, nauseating talk of woke-ness ...

 

Say what? The Catholic church is deeply corrupt? Who knew? But what does that say of the Catholic Boy's Daily, and Killer Creighton's yearning to be considered DLP, and the onion muncher's Catholic desire to shuffle off the elderly, and Polonius's deep love of the Pellists?

The pond knew then with relief that there was no way to stop the crazy, that the insanity would continue, and that each year same cartoon could apply to at least the 12th of never,  or some other truly unique time in the ABC calendar,  perhaps only requiring an occasional slight adjustment of the list of characters on parade, to keep abreast of the times and those doing the herding of the horses ...

 

 

Let us hope then for a better new year than the last wretched one, but don't rely on it being safe, not if the reptiles have anything to do with it ....