In which the pond has a wokefest with the bromancer, dashing Donners and agitated Henry ...

 

 

What a relief it is for the pond, to have given up on the Terror. 

The pond thankfully can only, in one day, look at so many reptiles, even as it's clear that just one reptile can be too much for any bear to bear ...

Luckily, the reptiles repeat themselves ... because while the lizard Oz aspires to broadsheet respectability, buried on the front page of the tree killer edition this day was a reptile version of a 'WokeFest', dressed up to look a little different ...

 

 

Yes, there was SloMo, he who claps hands and brays to an imaginary friend in company with a flock of sheep, suddenly going all libertarian and individualistic ... and he scored the top spot in the digital edition as well ...

 

The pond was immediately swept back in time ...

If you're lucky some day you might see me on the street
My crystal clear complexion is as snow white as a sheet
'Cause some say I'm a genius, to others I'm a loon
But someday there'll be people like me walking on the moon
If you think you've got the nerve to put me in my place
I think that I should warn you, I'm not just a pretty face

I'm an individual - you can't fool me
An indi-bloody-vidual - you can't fool me
A genuine original - you can't fool me
I keep an open mind 'cause I'm thinkin' all the time

Does anybody remember Jacko, occasional footballer, energiser bunny man, star of Signal One,  and professional boofhead?

Never mind, the pond had predicted that this day there'd be a crusade, as yesterday the urbane Urban fired a warning shot across the bow ... and so today ...

What a trinity of reptile terrors, what a triptych. Ticky celebrating coal, the urbane Urban returning to feast on the wafer of sacrificed Xians - isn't being crucified their thing? - and the bromancer delivering one from the heart (and who remembers that peculiar movie?)

Well the pond could only select one wafer from that panel, and inevitably it had to be the bromancer ...

 

Of course it was former Chairman Rudd that set this hare running, and so we must now endure more clap happy nonsense, even though the clap happies firmly believe that the bromancer's religion is the whore of Babylon, membership of which consigns those heretic papists to an eternity of hellfire and damnation ...

But there the pond goes again, taking this stuff seriously, when it should be rightly treated as comedy ... and is there anyone better at this sort of comedy styling  than the bromancer?

Ah yes, the individual and not a group, though the bromancer is a tyke and the PM is a clap happy, and when the pond last checked, both groups that insisted that their group was essential as a way of defining humanity ... unless of course you preferred an eternity of hellfire and damnation, with Jacko's song playing 24/7 ...

I've a basic sense of rhythm and a chronic sense of rhyme
I make my own tomato juice and drink it all the time
I like to dress up lavishly, skin tight pants and sneakers
And on my head I wear the latest hi-fi speakers
Wish I had the chance to be a reckless millionaire
But I haven't got the money, so I really couldn't care

I'm an individual - you can't fool me
An indi-bloody-vidual - you can't fool me
A genuine original - you can't fool me
I keep an open mind 'cause I'm thinkin' all the time

I am not an animal
I am not an animal
I'm a 'uman being

Sorry, but some days the pond finds it hard to keep a straight face ... or a face straight, or whatever ...

 

And yet, there's the bromancer himself wanting to insist on quoting Paul, that bloody miserable misogynist with more than a touch of the misanthrope about him ...

As usual in such emergencies the pond breaks glass and turns to the Skeptic's Bible ...

Oh okay, big mistake ... best stick to the song ...

Me mother calls me Markus and my father's name is Jack
And everybody knows that I'm a cut above the pack
My formal education was in competition darts
Attending new auditions for the latest movie parts
People say the life I lead's enough to stunt my growth
They ask me if I'm happy and I tell them up your nose

I'm an indivdual - you can't fool me
An indi-bloody-vidual - you can't fool me
A genuine original - you can't fool me
I keep an open mind, 'cause I'm thinkin' all the time

But at least the singalong has got the pond to the last gobbet, and great news, it's really short ..

 

Actually instead of praying for people, how about giving up all the Scotty from marketing bullshit, and all the Xian warrior stuff, and just run a competent government, you know, vaccines, budgets, shit like that, and thereby avoid giving material to the likes of the immortal Rowe, with more material always to be found here ...

And so to the horde clamouring for attention below the fold ...

What a wealth of riches ... and yet the pond could only take in a couple, and naturally it had to welcome back dashing Donners ...

It's been so long, what with Donners off with the Terror mob, and yet he still manages to sound exactly the same as he did when he last appeared on the pond ...

 

The pond gets it: what that headline should say is that the national syllabus fails the dashing Donners test, and never mind that Donners himself was something of a flop and an epic failure back in the days of the onion muncher, but do go on ...

 

Does dashing Donners ever pause to consider how much he sounds like the white supremacists and white nationalists that litter the US landscape, with his talk of the wonders of Xianity and western culture, and its clear superiority?

Probably not ... because anyone who can talk of nation-building in the Donners' closing line ...

 

... surely invites a breach of Godwin's Law ...

..in August, 1914, it was not a people resolved to attack which rushed to the battlefield; no, it was only the last flicker of a national instinct of self-preservation in face of the progressing Marxist paralysis of our national body. (The long march through the institutions!)

 Since even in these days, of destiny, our people did not recognize the inner enemy, all outward resistance was in vain and Providence did not bestow her reward on the victorious sword, but followed the law of eternal retribution.

On the basis of this inner realization, there took form in our new movement the leading principles as well as the tendency, which in our conviction were alone capable, not only of halting the decline of the German people, but of creating the granite foundation upon which some day a state will rest which represents, not an alien mechanism of economic concern and interests, but a national organism: A Germanic State of the German Nation ...

Ah yes, nation-building, always sure to produce a good result ... 

But how, in all this hubbub, could the pond leave out the hole in the bucket man? Come on Henry, last but not least ...

 

Is it wrong of the pond to quibble from the get go? You see, the reptiles let go the cult master, who once would have provided an individualistic illustration for our Henry. 

What do we get these days? A bit of anonymous image-making from iStock! It's beyond the mountains of the moon and the valleys of irony ... not to mention its anonymous banality ... though some might argue that banality is what suits our Henry as he does his usual brooding, moaning and whining, and heads back to days past ...

 

Oh harden the fuck up man, and why of all things, introduce Adam and Eve, when we know that means it's all the woman's fault ... everything, the whole damn lot ...

And the Lord God said unto the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat. And the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life: And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel. Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee. 

Dear sweet long absent lord, why is it always left to the pond to deal with the consequences of imaginary friends? Would it have been better for our Henry to leave his name off this piece, and let it be published anonymously by the reptiles, safe in the knowledge that everyone would still recognise our Henry's pompous, ponderous, portentous style?

 

Of course if he'd put his name to the pamphlet, he would have - in best Vlad the impaler style - been pilloried, whipped, etc etc, yadda yadda ... much the same as if you step out of line these days, you can be pilloried from pillar to post by the reptiles, mounting assaults in the manner that saw the likes of Yassmin Abdel-Magied driven out of the country ...

Or in much the same way that in the nineteenth century, female novelists in Victorian England discovered that the best way to get ahead was to assume a male guise ... but do go on with your tedious history lesson ...

 

Yes, yes, and the Donald's tweets showed the benefit of being named, and what joy to see the angry, perpetually agitated society he left behind, while showing the power of branding ... no, not that sort of branding, with hot irons and whatever, more the sort of branding loved by that traffic cone of treason, Eric's dad ...

Never mind, the pond doesn't take it personally, and really doesn't think our Henry is upset at this venomous blog poking a little fun at him ... but if he wants to be bold and brave, let him head off to China or Russia, and put his name to criticisms of those countries' fearless leaders. Then maybe he wouldn't mind a little anonymity, unless he likes a crash course in how to do a hunger strike ...

And so to a final omission. Yesterday the pond ignored this ...

The pond did so because talk of elites is not a reptile thing. 

Even worse, elites threatening negative consequences is entirely improper and against the reptile code. 

The pond has read enough reptile speak on the matter of 'leets to know that talk of 'leets can produce a dangerous wokefest ...but as the matter was raised, please allow the pond to end with an infallible Pope, reminding us where careless, carefree indulgence in political and religious rallies might take a country ...

 

Of course the pond could have ended with a treatise by Killer Creighton, explaining how India is a notoriously obese country, and how obesity explained everything, but that's another story for another day ...

 

So many wars on so many fronts, so many reptile warriors needed ...

 

 

The drums of war heard round the world ... and thank the long absent lord we have the empire behind us, though sadly it's not so much Bojo's empire, more concerned with the price of wallpaper of late, as the Murdochian empire ... still, if William Randolph Hearst can start a war, why not our onetime dirty digger?

And so the empire continued on a war footing today, with SloMo inspecting the troops ...

 

 

There were rumblings on all fronts. Yesterday Jack the Insider got terribly upset ...

Oh yes the sneering left, and yet anyone not into imaginary friends can surely reserve the right to enjoy a sneer at Islamics, Scientologists, clap happies, ravaging tykes, spaghetti monsters and anyone else wandering around in the ether speaking in tongues, or even just doing an Elmer Gantry ...

Poor old Jack, gone a little addled in the head of late, but it's war alright, war on so many fronts ... and naturally  that keyboard warrior, the bromancer, was out and about campaigning ...

 

Ah, the pond can remember the old days, when public servants went about their business discreetly and left matters of war to their political masters, but these days, when it's war, there must be all hands on the reptile deck ...

 

Two brave and bold warriors together!That should keep the hysterics in line, and settle their hysteria! They couldn't recognise lofty historical judgements if they were bitten in the bum by them, not like The Times and reptile warriors bravely pounding their keyboards, doing a tour of duty! Hard hats on hard heads! Deadly force, as deadly as a steely glare from the bromancer!

 

Say what, it would not be a good thing for a bureaucrat to make speeches every day?

But heck, why not score a mention at the top of the page on The Times when you can by being brave, bold, unbloodied - long gone are the days you could get a paper cut shuffling files - and resolute?

 

Indeed, indeed, it's the drums of war pounding for peace, as noted this day by the infallible Pope ... and what a musical sound they make ...

 

 

 

But what's this? Someone has opened up a different front, and in the lizard Oz of all places, and cheek by jowl with the bromancer, brave warrior that he is?

 

 

Oh come now, Mr Shanahan, it's war and what is needed are warriors on the front line. They also serve who pound a keyboard, and prepare a front page covering many fronts ...

 

 

Look at all those wars ... look at the demand for warriors, and yet you seem to want to quibble in a petty way, unbecoming of a warrior ... as if they who shuffle files don't also serve ...

 

Amazons? But there are brave female warriors going about their business this very day! Dinkum Amazonian women, the last line of defence ...

 

 

Please, a little time in the military shouldn't blind you to the work of Amazons, celebrated in an EXCLUSIVE way by the reptiles of Oz ...

 

 

Oh come now, there are warrior heroes about every day in the lizard Oz, valiantly fighting and feuding and fussing ... and even today there was a call to arms that will resonate for weeks in the inner Sydney suburb of Surry Hills, because the pesky, difficult blacks are at it again, as if the frontier wars hadn't been sorted long ago ...

 

 

Hah, the real world. Talk about a term that needs inverted commas. The "real world"?! Yes, even as you complain about warriors, the clarion cry rings out for warriors to advance to the front. Western civilisation is under threat yet again, and who knows soon we'll have to give up meat, or perhaps someone in India might suggest a little mask wearing, when we all know masks are rightly reserved for Marvel and D. C. warriors (and let's not forget The Phantom, for those who came in late to the story of mask wearing and milk drinking).

 

How quaint. An actual soldier with operational service. What on earth would he know up against a spiritual leader and brave warrior of the bromancer or public servant kind?! Humbug and reptile window dressing. There's a war on many fronts going down, and the reptiles know how to milk it, be it the war on meat, or the outrageous insistence on masks. Freedumb for Tucker, freedumb for the Bolter!

And now an apology, because the pond for a moment, in all the fuss, lost track of the bullets in its magnum, and almost forgot that other war ... but luckily the savvy Savva was on hand to remind the pond ...

 

 

Yea, oh ye sinners, righteousness shall exalt the nation! You shall speak in tongues to imaginary friends, and tread the path to redemption in the better world to follow ...

How weird could it get? Sorry savvy Savva, the pond would like to pause a moment just to quote David Hardaker. There's more at Crikey here, paywall affected, but this is a good sampler ...

Weird shit, but that's the sort of stuff you'll find out west and south Tamworth way ... but what an inspiration Hillsong is for us all ...

 

 

And let's not forget that inspirational warrior Jerrry, of Liberty fame, but now please, do go on, into the exalted path of righteousness ...

 

Ah the evil one. Would it be wrong of the pond to repeat the infallible Pope's warning?

 

 

And now suitably warned and prepared, back to the savvy Savva, and the hand of god and signs and portents and chicken entrails .... and soaring eagles ...

 

Phew, it turns out Ken isn't exactly cheap ... $1,900 to $3,340, depending on size and frame, always the key to pricing quality art ... now that's what the pond calls soaring majestic pricing ...

But how good we should have a messianic Messiah to lead the reptiles' holy crusades ...

 

Oh the pond doesn't know, there's a war on, and Elmer Gantry style hustlers will do what needs to be done, and land wherever they can, as noted by the immortal Rowe, with more immortal Rowe here ...

In which the pond spends quality time with the Evil Ones ...

 

 

The pond thought it should vary its routine, and begin this day with a vital message from the infallible Pope.

Unfortunately the vital links above can't be be made to work in a cartoon screen cap, but rest assured, careful googling will lead stray, and straying, or strayed readers to the truth ...

And so to the reptiles this day, and first up the pond was confronted by a Holy Trinity of crusader stories ...

 

 

Sadly the pond had room for only one. Of course the pond would have loved to have run with simpleton Simon, and that story about publishing staff did trigger the pond ... what with all that talk of four pounds of meat a year led by Faux News lies ...

 

... but enough of grievance babies, when we have grievance adults in the room, and so the pond had to go with nattering "Ned" the father, exuding loyalty and love for SloMo ...

 

Hmm, an unfortunate shot, suggesting that the disciple was listening unto the master talk of the cheesemakers, when in reptile reality, the opposite was the case ...

 

 

 

 

Of course there is serious reason to believe that the reptiles and SloMo, lover of coal and gas, are playing a double game with the world ... and their readership, well trained in reptile views on climate science, know it ...

 

 

Indeed, indeed, what are the reptile's scared of? Why at least not debate it's use? Where is the talk of our bountiful, Coal,Gas and Uranium?

But now back to "Ned" ...

 

Actually the reptiles are the denialists in chief. They've sent endless amounts of digital ooze into the intertubes selling the SloMo message - pretend to do something, then do sweet bugger all - aware that the readership will detect any signs of heresy ...

How well trained the lizard Oz readership is ... and all "Ned" the nattering father has to do is position the tiller, and sail with the breeze ... and how better to do it than start with a naked lie about comparative emissions, emanating from a remarkable emitter of bullshit ...

 

Indeed, indeed, fuck the planet, let's focus on the important things ...

 

What else? Well those who surveyed the top of the digital page would have noticed that the country is on a war footing ...

 

Naturally the bromancer was top of the page to cheer on the war games before we head off to the big one, the top gun crusade, the big Palooka ...

 

 

 

Yet for all the talk of grave messages, the position paper offered by the bromancer was remarkably short, as if he didn't have much to offer or much to say, in a grave or light way ...

 

Instead the reptiles flung in a reassuring graphic ...

 

 

That's what's going to take down the invading horde from the north? Shouldn't we be thinking of abandoning the north for a moment, say construct a Brisbane line, let the desert, the terrain and the supply lines do their work?

Just thinking ... it's true that generals tend to fight the last war, and the notion that a few training fields are anything but huff and puff crusader talk as idle as pissing in the wind did occur to the pond ...

Let's face it, it's easier for the bully boy mutton Dutton to take out legal actions against some minor tweeter than devise anything meaningful, at least if it means going beyond bully boy posturing ...

That's it? Four soldiers in a pose, and a smirking bromancer on the front lines? We're doomed ... and it's no wonder the bromancer kept it short. Even he must have been chortling as he pounded out words such as sober and sensible and hard reality, amidst the Pezzullo tub thumping, only to acknowledge that talk is just talk ...

But a short bromancer left room for a bonus, and so the pond surveyed the scene ...

 

 

So many temptations this day, not least Killer Creighton, he who fears masks also fearing fatties, while the bromancer was at it again, this time on India and endorsing SloMo in shutting down the borders, even as elsewhere, the reptiles were traumatised by closed borders ...

In the end, the traditional conservative values rampant at the pond demanded that Dame Slap be the chosen one ... if only because the IPA chairman has made something of a fetish slagging off SloMo ...

Strange to have such a serious and sombre shot of SloMo ...when there are so many images of his beatific vision to hand ...

 

But do go on, and make it a proper Dame Slap rage ...

 

Indeed,  Killer - bring no masks unto him for fear he will faint - and Dame Slap are as one in thinking it's time to let 'er rip ... in a measured, sensible way ...

 

Oh that's a bit mean, dragging the family into it. SloMo would never use his family for political purposes, I mean everyone bought a whole bunch of jigsaw puzzles just to get through the day ...

Perhaps the UN might offer a remedy? But then the pond remembered that the UN was a fiendish body that had used climate science to introduce a world government by Xmas 2010, or so Dame Slap had assured us was the agenda at the time ...

Ah yes, Gladys, the subject of much Mariology by the reptiles ... only for the pond to have its veneration of the visionary shattered by news from the reptiles themselves ...

 

Tasmania doing better than Gladys? Yet most days the pond walks down Parramatta Road and marvels at its transformation into a heavenly vision, thanks to all the motorways that have torn out the guts of the inner west ... (but how to show irony and sarcasm in cold print?)

Never mind. The pond might have had to give up a few treasured treats this day, but at least has noted them for reptile devotees determined to look further ... and in the meantime, the war on China progresses and the war on climate science continues apace, and Dame Slap and Killer Creighton are doing their bit to give the virus a chance ...

After all that, the pond could relax with a relaxing Rowe, with more relaxation here, knowing this day it had supped with the Evil Ones and survived to enjoy a deeply spiritual meal...