In which the pond worries for the Oreo, and must settle for standard Caterism, and asking the Major ...

 

 

 

Has the reformed, recovering feminist, the Oreo, been quietly disappeared? Just asking for a concerned friend.

Of course there are familiar faces below the reptile fold, like the bouffant one doing it for SloMo, and Fergo, pumping it up for our gold standard "lockdown queen" Gladys, and there's Claire nuking the pages in a way that the Oreo once would have done ...

The pond hunted high and low on the front page and couldn't sight the Oreo anywhere, but didn't bother going beyond skin deep ... and then got distracted by other sightings ...

 

 

 

 

Standard stuff, with the bouffant one on high rotation to fill in the gaps in the reptile line-up, and a standard bit of ABC bashing by way of reptile regurgitation of the predictable, but what's this, a clap happy moment, surely the ultimate distraction from a fucked-up vaccination roll-out?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foolish pond, always a sucker for a reptile sleight of hand.

 

It turned out it was just a little reptile distraction from the main game ... it was just an in-house bit of reptile promotion for a forthcoming  bromancer book ... 

 

 

The urgent case for Jesus in our world?!

Dear sweet long absent lord, how the pond wept, even though that mention of Bian Houston provided an easy chance to link to a wiki list of all the controversies that have beset that modern Elmer Gantry, here ...

 

 

 

Laying on hands? Ah, that explains the response to a world pandemic, and possibly climate science too. Just wave your hands, and pouff, you have a genuine miracle, and it all goes away ...

As for the bromancer, he's been keeping the wrong company, and getting weirder by the day, and the way that John Anderson has crept into his heart and his book shows just how weird he's got. It goes without saying that the pond won't be bothered stumping up for the pleasure, but there'll no doubt be plenty of excerpts turning up in the lizard Oz, and that'll be more than enough.

What else? Well the disaster known loosely as the government response to the pandemic, loosely known as the great fuck-up, has brought the reptiles out in a pack, in a way not seen since the peak of climate science denialism days ...

This is exceptionally handy, as otherwise the reptiles would have had a heap of mansplaining, sciencesplaining to do ...  and a lot of reassuring of the coal-loving, climate denialist faithful ... perhaps even with a visit from the Bjorn-again man urging investment in green technologies for the zillionth time ...

 

 

 

Instead the reptile top of the page ma was full of undying love and support for the layer on of hands and the speaker in tongues to imaginary friends ...

 

 

 

Yes, the reptiles are exceptionally keen on Covid freedom, and you have to go elsewhere to see what's really going on ... or more to the point, not going on ...

 

 

 

Say what? Two thirds? Fucketty fuck, that's sublimely incompetent, and being a fed issue, the buck stops with the feds, but you won't find any of that in the lizard Oz...

Instead you'll find coal-loving, climate science denying, flood waters in quarries genius, the Caterist, doing the usual Caterist thing, and lending a helping hand, the least that could be done, come to think of it, given the way the feds feed the helping hand with cash in the paw ...

 

 

 

 

The way that the reptiles herd together like a murmuration of starlings is perhaps the most demoralising and depressing of developments in the Covid crisis ... but given their general lack of interest in climate scientists, perhaps they're equally unimpressed by anyone with actual medical expertise ...

 

 

 

The pond supposes that at some point it will just have to learn to live with reptiles of the Caterist kind continually comparing a world pandemic to the flu ... just as it will have to learn to love coal and fuck the planet, and become an expert in the movement of flood waters in quarries, not to mention develop the exceptional skills required to tickle the government till and get some lovely government cash in the paw ...

Now please note the extraordinary and wholly admirable way that the Caterist managed to both malign the hapless Young while also noting that she was on solid ground ... before moving on to the next downplaying gobbet, and please, don't ask if you'd trust this man for medical advice ...

 

 

Is that the dedicated staff who haven't bothered to get vaccinated? Or is that the federal government, that just didn't bother to implement or to check?

And what about those who wanted to follow the government's own advice regarding preferred vaccines, only to discover that it was due to arrive by the twelfth of never?

Never mind, there's only one more gobbet of speaking in Caterist tongues to go ...

 

 

The pond was pleased to see the way that Broelman had brought together a couple of strands this day ...

 

 

And so to the Major, because the pond always asks the Major on a Monday, though the answer is that the Major sounds just like the Caterist, or put it another way, the Caterist sounds just like the Major, parroting the same lines in that totally* unique (*ABC licensed) murmuration of reptiles ... the only discernible difference being that the Major bangs on at greater length ...

 

See how the reptiles' current bête noire again features at the top of the column, though the Major has been blessed with a shot that includes that other reptile bête noire ... and all the rest is just as predictable ...

At least the Major quickly gets to the point, which is to defend the laying on of hands, speaking in tongues to imaginary friends man, and do his best to distract from the complete fuck-up the feds have made of a task managed elsewhere with some speed, even, absent lord help us, in the land of Bojo ...

Now anyone who hasn't nodded off will have noted a standard reptile irony ... the way that the Major began his piece by bleating ..."much of the media coverage of the latest Covid-19 outbreak is over-hyped and politicised", only then to follow up with "The politics is dangerous for Morrison ... his vulnerability is ironic", and to deplore a fearful public refusing to conform to reptile thinking ... 

Yep, at the start and close of day, all the reptiles can think of is the political implications of the Covid crisis, and the way that the rorters might be given the boot, while the country just wants to avoid having a Donald scenario down under ... because Kimmel's This Week in Covid History might be funny, but there's a lot of dead bodies underneath the humour ...

Besides, the pond's ability to keep cracking jokes about irony cranked up to 11 can't keep pace ... perhaps another distraction is needed, in the shape of the Royal box?

 

Had the feds not put all their vaccine eggs in the one fragile basket, the hapless reptiles wouldn't have been put into the awkward situation of having to defend constantly the man from marketing.

They could have been deployed to something more useful, such as downplaying the current assorted climate catastrophes.

Ever since he lost that Order of Lenin medal, the Major has been adept at disappearing things, and disappearing climate science is right up his alley, and yet here he is, reduced to being just one of the Pravda flock of the reptile faithful, braying how it's everybody's fault except the man ostensibly in charge ...

How bad does it get? The usual, with the Major quoting petulant Peta, who no doubt quotes the Bolter, who no doubt cites the Major, who no doubt refers to the insights of the Caterist, who no doubt has a direct line to the thinking of the bromancer, which is that a laying on of hands will save the day ...

 

Our aim is to become a soft quasi-dictatorship of the Singapore kind, where inconvenient truths and figures can simply be disappeared, and nobody need bother to reporting data or statistics, if it doesn't suit the government's plans?

Well that's some sort of aim ... and it surely would have come in handy in relation to other matters, and no doubt will keep on being handy ...

 

And so all that's left is a pond apology. 

There's only so many times you can look at a flock of starlings before you prefer to stare directly at the sun, and perhaps the pond should have preferred to have been distracted by dragging out the old nuke carcass yet again, so that comparisons could be make between the cost of nuking the country and using renewables, but the pond is tired, and all it wants to do is curl up with a Rowe, with more curling Rowe to hand here ...

Ah yes, the laying on of hands to pork barrels, and the speaking in pork tongue to imaginary friends ...