In which the pond carefully plans its weekend outing, and still ends up with an hysterical bromancer and climbing "Ned's" Seinfeld Everest ...

 

 

The pond likes to plan its weekend contact with the reptiles, reducing unnecessary pain and suffering to a minimum, and so it always goes to the comment section to rule reptiles in and out of order ...

 

 

 

 

The advantages of careful planning can be seen at once. 

There's poor Shanners full of gloom, there's prattling Polonius, saved for the Sunday meditation, there's the oscillating fan talking dirty, and most astonishing of all, there's the dog botherer sounding fully woke.

Not just the dog botherer, bubble-headed booby Gemma is now also fully woke ...

Well the pond has been well-trained by the reptiles never to go woke, whatever that means, but the thought of the dog botherer wailing about the suffering of women and the woes of bullying strains credibility or hypocrisy or whatever beyond the pond's breaking point.

The pond went there once with the talk of bullying (how comical to see mean girl petulant Peta ravage mean girls), but the pond isn't going to bother going there, today not even for a late arvo post ... 

 All the pond needed to know was whether the dog botherer had worked climate science into his love for Kitching ... and sure enough ...

 

 

 

 

What a wretch he is, and while he slags off the savvy Savva, not a word about Tuckyo Carlson ... 

No, the pond could only stand so much, or better still, so little, of the usual dog botherer crap this weekend ... 

So the pond turned to the bromancer, heralding a new world order, even though the pond could recall Dame Slap warning the world against a new world order in days gone past ...

Well yes, and as the pond didn't mention it while noting the dog botherer ranting away in the usual way, there was a story in the Graudian worthy of note ...

 

 
 

 

Good question and there's more at the link, but back to the dog botherer, and just as he was picking up steam, the pond had to note and defang a click bait video ...

 

That done, it was full speed ahead with the bromancer, sounding the alarm in his now standard hysterical way ...

 

Oh indeed, indeed, the love of coal runs deep in the reptile heart ... and climate science is of course a theology, a religion, or possibly ideological, and certainly political, and not at all to do with the actual science of the climate, and this is war, so we must join the Canavan caravan and fuck the planet, in much the same way that the authoritarian dictator Vlad the impaler is currently fucking Ukraine ...

Now all we need is a shot of deluded greenies, and a strange change of tack, because the bromancer decided to start the next gobbet with "It is right to try to reduce global greenhouse emissions."

The pond has absolutely no idea why, since climate science is merely a cult religion, and nothing compared to the cult love of coal that you can find when you join the Canavan caravan ...

Meanwhile, the planet ...

 

 

 

 

Oh enough already with the talk of the birdies ... the bromancer has got a war to fight and a world to fuck ...

 

Um, perhaps the pond should have issued a trigger warning, or at least a spoiler, alerting stray readers that this was going to be a long trek with the fevered bromancer ... enough with the intrrruptions already, there's still two gobbets and a click bait video to go, and the bromancer is busy reorganising the planetary geopolitical structure ...

 

Autocracy Inc? Hmm, does that include chairman Rupert, what with him also being an authoritarian dictator supporting quislings and white anters and lickspittle fellow travellers?

 

Sorry, sorry, the pond promised not to interrupt, and yet here we are at the last gobbet as the bromancer goes global in his bid for world conquest ...

 

Good old bromancer. Surely only he could scribble "The West's woke fruitiness is at war with human nature."

The pond has absolutely no idea what that means, except perhaps it's a reference to Norman storing mum in the fruit cellar ...

The pond thought the point of the sin of wokeness, at least so far as the pond can understand the reptiles casual daily abuse of the word, is that we should care for each other and care for the planet ...

With the bromancer screeching 'this is world war', the pond wished it could sound as optimistic as the immortal Rowe looked ...

 

Is it possible to fuck the bear and not fuck the planet? The pond has its doubts ...though it would settle for fucking the bear at the moment ...(oh the pond can hear a reptile furry alarm going off, more later).

Speaking of war, the pond also has to attend to nattering "Ned" this day, but thought it might take a couple of detours ...

First while the matter is before the courts, the pond couldn't resist this story, what with the hint of wokeness at work on the back palate ...

 

Hmm, strange that the bromancer didn't mention that even the pastie Hastie thought that lines had to be drawn ...

And after that unpleasantness, the pond would like to reassure readers that it does faithfully turn to the Weekly Beast each Friday. and yes, this Friday's outing was a ripper ...

It began this way ...

 

 

 

 

 

An institute for journalism and ideas and they get a reptile to deliver a rant? 

It was so sublime the pond savoured every word ...

Dore turned to a Google search of his name to say he and the Oz had been described as a racist, an apologist for racists, misogynist, a climate denier and shameful, extraordinarily disrespectful and a national disgrace.
The “national disgrace” comment referred to a recent report in Guardian Australia which said several high-profile Indigenous journalists had condemned his newspaper’s coverage following the acquittal of Northern Territory police officer Zachary Rolfe in relation to the shooting death of 19-year-old Kumanjayi Walker.
Some journalists were so “vain self-obsessed, craving, indulgent, needy” that they were “undermining their profession” and they should stick to reporting and not give their opinion.
“Too many journalists are inserting themselves into their stories or worse still into other reporters’ stories,” Dore said. “Some reporters are chasing the cheap, wild and ready-made approval of the in-crowd instead of chasing the more elusive yarn.”
They were “clueless to the damage they are doing to their industry and their own reputation” and it makes him “cringe”.
Dore claimed there was a “cohort of senior influential journalists” who “prey on others actively, almost reflexively, mocking, ridiculing and immediately undermining the work of some quite courageous journalists who they believe do not conform”.
“Today so much journalism has been captured by fashionable causes, leaving any journalists not prepared to conform vulnerable to public shaming, outrageous bullying, belittling, and with breathtaking arrogance their work is routinely dismissed and ridiculed by other working journalists,” he said.
“It happens to some of our best every day, a pile-on almost always inspired by a journalist with a blue tick next to their name.” 

Oh indeed, indeed, what the world needs is integrity reptile style ...

 

 

 

Well played simplistic Simon and all the best to you and Bid.

But what made it even richer was the story that immediately followed, featuring the Currish Snail at its finest ...

 

 

 

Dear sweet long absent lord, now they're persecuting furries? How long before the reptiles get agitated about cosplay? As for making a musical featuring digital cats, in the name of T. S. Eliot, where will the madness end?

Okay, okay, it's all at the Graudian, with hot links, and all the rest, and it's a sheer indulgence on the part of the pond to reprint that which is freely available, but the long absent lord knows that the pond needed a little light relief before tackling the Everest known as "Ned" ...

 

 

 

Sometimes the pond wonders if the reptiles ever look at the pond. 

Does anyone in reptile la la land note the pond's constant complaints about the much reduced graphics department? Is that why they dragged a moth-eaten Tom Jellett out of the closet, dusted him off and made him deliver one of his most wretched offerings ever?

Still as a talking point it surely beats paying attention to "Ned's" blather ... blather so rich in the blathering that the reptiles felt the need to insert a couple of snaps in the next gobbet, featuring the bleeding obvious, and reminding the pond that it never did work out what happened to that inspirational idea of "Ned" reading "Ned" out loud ...

 

 

Now the pond realises it's testing the friendship. It's been a long haul just to get here, as "Ned" rambles on, so why not go outside and play in the sunshine?

Oh you live in Sydney or the north of New South Wales?

Why you poor sodden wretches, read on ... and discover that in "Ned's" world there are still mileposts ...

 

 

 

 

The pond felt a surge of nostalgia ... just two miles to go to get to mighty Tamworth, the home of Barners ...

Sorry, sorry, it's hard enough getting through "Ned" without pausing to look at mileposts ...

 

And then a miracle happened... the next gobbet of "Ned" was remarkably short, and featured the usual "Ned" borrowings from the minds of others, what with "Ned" being a rather desperate sort of bower bird in need of plumage and sparkly, shiny things, or at least a snap of silvery hair (forget the heart of gold)...

 

 

 

 

And then after that talk of a Seinfeld election in a truly Seinfeld column, it was over, done and dusted. "Ned" had run out of words and his last gobbet was unseemly in its shortness, its unnatural, unholy brevity ... instead of offering a peak, "Ned" had settled for a base camp ...

 

 

 

Never mind "Ned", there's still a planet to fuck, and the reptiles can still show the way ...

And so to wrap up with an infallible Pope ...