In which the pond apologises for featuring the dog botherer and nattering "Ned" on a day designed for meditation ...

 

The pond must apologise at the get go ... it fired off its best shot at tedium yesterday with prattling Polonius, not realising that this would leave even more tedious reptile loonery for its Sunday meditation.

Well it can't be helped, what was done was done, and what is to be done now must be done, and so the pond is undone ... and how better to undo reality than to go where few dare to tread ...

 

 

 

 

But how did the pond end up with the dog botherer discussing a matter the pond had sworn off? Well, here the pond should reveal its editorial selection was a choice between vile trash and vile trash ...

 

 

 

 

There's already enough tranny hate in the world, without the pond recycling the loathsome IPA hysteria of Dame Slap ... so the dog botherer it had to be, though a far right male loon of the Sky after dark brigade is not the person the pond would usually choose to discuss rape, and the Canberra bubble ...

 

It will be noted that immediately after this talk of enormous sympathy and respect, that the dog botherer will immediately embark on what he deplored, which is to talk of the matter in political terms and do his level best to exonerate his political friends and berate his political enemies. So it goes at Sky after dark, where the bats infest the belfry ...

 

Nota bene how that last gobbet was designed - how should the pond put it, delicately and discretely? - to forget the alleged crime and the victim, and instead focus on broader issues, namely partisan politicking ... and now more partisanship, if you please partisan dog botherer ...

 

Indeed, indeed, if a serious criminal incident took place in News Corp, who would feel an obligation to tell Chairman Rupert? Why the very thought is preposterous and ignoble ...

 

 

Sorry, the pond realises it's a serious matter, but there's only so much righteous hypocrisy and indignation from a partisan hack that the pond can take before it reaches for some cartoon relief ... but now we must get back to the partisan politicking, and forget all that talk of the vulnerability of women, the alleged crime, victim and broader issues to do with the treatment of women inside the Liberal party and in Canberra ... even though the tree killer edition this weekend contained a further ironical note at the top of the page ...

 

 

Toxic Canberra too much? Toxic dog botherer is too much too, and at the end of this gobbet he produces a toxic humdinger, a real zinger ...
 

 

Nota bene that note in the middle of a bout of victim blaming. "This is not to criticise Higgins", which is of course the clue to the way that the dog botherer implies it's all her fault ... but that's nothing compared to the way he ends the gobbet: "This is conjecture."

So why bother with it? Because that's what jaundiced, cynical, partisans do when they politick away ... but luckily there was only a further short gobbet, saving the pond from a massive overdose of nausea ...

 

 

 

Yep, the partisan political angle confected by the odious dog botherer is deplorable ... brutal, vicious, opportunistic politicking, based apparently on conjecture ... and only in the lizard Oz and Sky after dark would you find such a sterling example ...

And so to the bonus, though that hardly describes the offering.

The pond had thought it had done with News Corp v. the tech giants, but wouldn't you know, nattering "Ned" came out with one of his interminable triumphant natters ... and it certainly filled up the pond's remaining space, until the pond felt bloated, as full as a goog ...

 

 

 

Now fair warning, this is another of those 'climbing the "Ned" natter Everest' efforts, and the infallible Pope has already said everything that needs to be said, as noted by the pond before, but which bears repeating ...

 

 

 

Any sensible person would stop right there, sated and satisfied. Only the foolhardy will go on ...

 

 

Okay, before we go on, the pond simply has to put up a tent and rest a little and turn to a Crikey story by Bernard Keane here (paywall affected) ...

 

Well you won't find any of those heresies in "Ned's" triumphant tale of what is a celebration of state power i.e., pandering to the Chairman and a victory for Australia, i.e., giving yet again to the Chairman what he wants ... a free lunch, and don't forget the cash in the paw foie gras...

Of course 100 per cent success is one hundred per cent bullshit, and here the pond must again revert to the remaining bit of that Crikey yarn...

Et tu Crikey? Never mind, we all like cash in the paw, and some need it more than others.

Elsewhere in Crikey can be found a link to the actual bill.

There's also this most excellent definition:

 

Actually it's not the public interest that intrigued the pond, so much as the denial of any notion of professional standards ... but then where would News Corp and its gutter tabloids be if there were talk of professional standards? How to explain the Bolter, or Sky News after dark, and why that sort of disinformation should be regurgitated on Facebook?

But now back to "Ned", still tugging the forelock and the foreskin, and talking of triumphs beyond imagining ...

 

What a wanker, but speaking of critics, please allow the pond to link to Independent Australia here, with the news that M. David is now also on hand there ...

 

Phew, another sugar hit, and so back to the triumphant "Ned", still explaining that what's good for News Corp is good for everybody  ...

 

Encourage diversity? Of course not. Where would we be without an oligopoly? At least Facebook is allegedly unhappy and spinning a story for its global audience, when in reality it got off with a pittance and is laughing all the way to its bank ... per Michael Bradley at Crikey here ... (paywall affected).

 

 

And now back to "Ned", at last showing signs of running out of energy, because how much triumphalism can a bear bear?

 

Didn't it say "these risible terms or nothing"?

Is there an upside? Well at least there's a new villain in the house, though how long before we get back to the old villain in the house?

 

 

Well that will help the pond make it through the next bit of "Ned" ... with the ABC now suddenly inside the tent ...

 

And so to the final bit of "Ned", which ends as it began, on a note of high comedy ...

 

Playing chess with Kasparov? So did any of the pawns make it to Queen status?

Never mind, should Pravda ever need a scribe, "Ned" might avoid retirement and get himself a new gig ... and now back to the future we go ...

In which the pond endures Polonius, marvels at our Gracie's ongoing radicalisation, and answers a truly stupid question ...

 

It took the pond a long time to work out why Polonius was prattling at such tedious length today, but it finally became clear.

First there had to be the usual interminable blather, and history lesson ...

 

Immediately the pond spotted two bonuses ... Polonius was ready to regurgitate the bleeding obvious to fill in the time, and for once, it wasn't the ABC's fault, and amazingly there had been no mention of the ABC up to this point, and likely enough the ABC would get off Scotty free for once ...

But already there was a hint of where Polonius was heading, albeit via a lengthy detour into the past, a kind of reenactment of Guy Pearce with a time machine ...

 

Only five crises? What happened to Vietnam? Oh that's right, in Polonius's mind, it was a successful and righteous war, one we should look back on fondly. And how about the treatment of the indigenous population? Did 1967 fix everything? And so on and so forth ... no doubt others will remember potential and actual crises that seem to have escaped Polonius's mind. You know, the dismissal, whatever ...

But what's the point of this meandering exercise? Soon all will be revealed ... but again there has to be a tedious history lesson, reminding us that Pig Iron Bob didn't get to run the show way back when, and thank the long absent lord for that ...

 

 

And there we have it. The whole thing has been to explain poor SloMo's impotence. His hands have been tied, there's nothing he can do, it's all the Premiers' doing, and the High Court ...

 

That was it, that was the entire point of the exercise? Has there ever been a more interminable explanation of impotence? Did we have to suffer through that history lesson just to be reminded of how Scotty from marketing palmed it all off on the state premiers, and could indulge in a blame game?

 

Why the pond could have helped out with an immortal Rowe, showing a dynamic federal government in action, with more dynamic stuff here ...

 

 

Observers will note a curious figure under the desk, which provides the pond with a segue to another intriguing mystery ... the ongoing radicalisation of our Gracie ...

The pond doesn't know what caused it, but it gets worse by the week ...

 

Yes, yes, all that, but then for no reason in particular, our Gracie drags the Bolter into the lesser Kelly affair, as if the Bolter was somehow responsible for featuring nutters, fruitcakes, and loons on his show, indeed, as if the Bolter himself might be something of a nutter, fruitcake and loon, parading about on Sky after dark, where the loonery is fierce to behold ...

 

 

 

You see, it wasn't just the lesser furniture salesman Kelly. The Bolter was also gung ho ...

 

 

Well no, the pond won't watch, and won't join in the Bolter conversation, but you can see where this form of radicalisation might end up. In the dangerous arena of listening to experts, doctors, and lordy lordy, what next, climate scientists?

You can see why the pond was so alarmed by our Gracie's radicalisation and her apparent unawareness of the company she keeps, what with her and the Bolter being kissing cousins so to speak, being News Corp brethren... but no, on she went, talking up scientific research and such like, as if that meant anything up against the scientific expertise of a former furniture salesman, and the Bolter, with his stout-hearted defence of the lesser Kelly and his explanation that vaccines won't save us, what we need is News Corp's patented snake oil ...

 

Led by a few? Please, Gracie, say hello to News Corp, home of loons, publisher and promoter of loonery ... and please, remember where you are, and who you scribble for ...

And so to end on a light note, with a note about the y'artz the reptiles borrowed yesterday by the reptiles from elsewhere in the empire ...

 

 

 

 

The pond wanted to run it, because it had thought of an alternative title ... pudgy old white newspaper columnists can't jump ...

 

But in answer to the question when did art get so establishment, was it when sculptors did idealised statues of Roman emperors, or was it when Diego Velázquez lived with the royal family and painted them, or was it when Goya offered up this portrait of Charles IV's family ...

 

 

 

 

 

Or was it when Beethoven dedicated a piece to Napoleon, until he decided he wouldn't ... but do go on, showing how you really hate wealthy white artists hanging around with former presidents, who happen to be black ...

 

Yes, we're in for a classic failure to understand that the artist telling tales is not the same as the artist living life ... you know, because Kafka was never really a beetle ... but even worse, there are artists who hang around with former presidents, who just happen to be black ...

 

It's such a stupid and inane question, "when did art get so establishment?" that the pond hardly knows where to begin ... but will start by deleting the very same reptiles trying to get a little attention by publishing a tweet featuring a Springsteen song. 

After all, if the reptiles have been born to run wild, what the fuck are they doing featuring a song titled The Middle? Couldn't they just have run Titian's portrait of Isabella of Portugal?

But here you go ... it takes sheer genius, and a deep hostility to wealthy singers hanging around with former presidents - did the pond mention he was black and could shoot hoops? - to drag in a reference to climate science and white privilege ...

 

Oh just fuck off ... what a pity it is that you didn't die before you got old and full of fatuous, fuckwitted nonsense ... and don't get the pond started on Bob Dylan's born again Xian phase, because who knows he still has time to turn full Trumpist in the moronic Baker way ... 

But speaking of art and rappers and such like, it did remind the pond of this story here, and these jokes ...

And now because a reader asked for it, here was Akker Dakker, a long time ago ...

 

The pond apologises for it being shorn of the original illustration featuring power lines, still to be found around Sydney to this day ...

Little did Akker Dakker realise that he was right. Imagine if Malware had placed fibre underground. Instead we have two sets of cables strung from power cables around Sydney, one abandoned, the other HFC useless, but an important part of Malware's solution ... cheap and nasty comes to mind, but ugly, inefficient and ultimately more costly is closer to the mark, and all thanks to Malware and Chairman Rupert desperate to avoid competition with Netflix ...

But now, since climate change has been mentioned, why not end with an infallible Pope?

 

 

In which our Henry does his usual meandering, but everyone ends up with cash in the paw and having a great time ...

 

 

 

 

There's nothing else on a Friday for the pond but to spend time with pompous, portentous Henry, the hole in the bucket man who wears his book larnin' heavily ... 

Having allegedly defeated Facebook and the Google, it was only natural for the government to turn its attention to the wicked ways of universities, and their refusal to embrace clean, dinkum, pure Oz coal, which caused much trouble in their past, and their awful treatment of the Riddster, as if climate science denialism and creationism and heck, Sydney Anglican complimentary women all didn't deserve a home in higher learning ...

It turned out that our Henry had developed a case of the collywobbles when it came to the Riddster, so he quickly moved on to musing about medievalism, in the way that our Henry is wont to do ...

 

 

Dear sweet long absent lord. What a tedious, self indulgent old fart ... and it so happens that as well as a book on the English civil war, the pond has had an ancient textbook, by C. Warren Hollister, Medieval Europe A Short History, as its toilet reading and intends to inflict it on innocent stray readers ... or at least a little bit ...

 

 

 

 

Say what? The pond can hiss at our Henry and perhaps even pelt him with stones? 

 

What a splendid response to his wasting the pond's time each Friday with his pretentious pontificating ... but now we must get back to his whining and moaning ...

 

 

 

Luckily the pond hasn't been wasting its time on German universities, but it does know the solution for the treatment of dissenters and outsiders. Chemical castration! After all, it worked for Turing, and it might well work for academics ...

Some might think this a tad extreme, but what else to do when confronted by an extended bout of our Henry?

 

Why does the pond love Henry for all his flaws?

Well inevitably at some point we come to a billy goat buttism line that makes a nonsense of everything that he has scribbled up to that point, and so we came to ...

"...None of that implies that competition is a panacea, much less one that is easily implemented."

Quite so, though Henry's notion that the University of Sydney should sell off all its property and head off to Alice Springs so that it might hire the Riddster and practice climate science denialism and Todd River reef studies in peace will be a relief to those who struggle to survive on the fringes of what was once the suburb of Darlington ... 650 dwellings, shops, post office, town hall and some 2,000 citizens gone, so the wiki says, and still the monster marches on into Newtown and Camperdown ...

And now, as we're into distraction, what with sex in parliament all the go, it will be noted that the reptiles also led with universities this day ... what with all those frisky young things frolicking about in the quadrangle as the pond wanders by, what a way to duck what's been going down in Canberra ...

 

 

The story was cobbled together by simplistic Simon, so the pond could be assured that it was a faithful regurgitation of the deepest thinking of the government, because if nothing else, Simon makes a wonderful parrot ...

Is it wrong of the pond to note that everything our Henry scribbled would be in trouble if tied to a grant? The pond's own textbook toilet reading came from the street library, thrown away and picked up for free, and almost everything else in the y'artz is equally useless ...

But perhaps that's the entire point ... what use is meandering philosophical nonsense of the Henry kind when universities might be better employed coming up with a decent U joint for plumbers? And once discovered, it might be commercialised and corporatised, because who knows, when you score a Princeton University or Harvard Law School degree, you might end up with a Ted Cruz, or with the help of Standford and Yale Law School, a Josh Hawley ...

And they say a university degree works wonders for the rule of law ...

Yes, to be absolutely clear, we do not want or need international students in Australia because that business model is outmoded and unsustainable, and yet we do want and need international students in Australia, because what a great and sustainable model they represent ...

The reptiles themselves could take only so much of this Yes Minister blather, and seized the chance to insert a click bait video, so the pond decided it would cut that out, and run the next two gobbets together ...

 

Uh huh, corporatisation and monetisation ... and there's poor old Henry rabbiting on about medieval universities trying to make a quick buck by shifting towns ...

Did the dear old thing have the foggiest idea of what he was letting loose, a fine old Tudging of the university sector?

 

The pond is reminded, as it frequently is by the current government, of that great old TV show, and in this case, the lines ...

The Master of Ballie College: How might one set about persuading a Minister of the importance of Baillie College?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: Oh, I don't know. Why don't you get him down here to a High Table dinner?
The Master of Ballie College: Is he of the intellectual caliber to understand our case?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: Oh yes. Well, surely our case is intelligible to anyone with the intellectual caliber of of Winnie-the-Pooh.
The Master of Ballie College: Quite. And Hacker is of the intellectual caliber of Winnie-the-Pooh?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: Oh yes. On his day.

And by golly so is our Tudge ... on his day ...

And so to a wrap up of the Facebook and Google affair ... and the pond couldn't help but notice this story in Crikey ... Diversity hit between the eyes as old media pockets about 90% of big tech cash (paywall affected) ...

 

All that fuss for chump change of 50 mill?

But why did the pond interrupt Crikey, when it usually leaves the smaller players alone? 

 

Well it wanted to set the scene for a glorious cartoon by the infallible Pope, which really says it all, and in the friendly form of G. Zilla and K. Kong ...

 

 

The pond will treasure that image for a long time to come, especially what with all the reptile and government talk about the importance of a Chairman Rupert style education system... and now for the rest of the Crikey piece, just to round things out ...

 

Yep, fucked again, and fucked in a right royal way ... but at least the pond can go on hating Chairman Rupert and his minions, and that right royal Zucker and his minions in equal measure ... and after that,  what can the pond do but join the immortal Rowe in saying "merde", with more "merde" moments available here ...

 

Fuck submarines, fuck universities, fuck climate science, fuck the planet, and suck up to the Chairman ... what a fucking great fucking and sucking time we're having ...