In which the pond is obliged to do its duty, but really the onion muncher, his bromancer and a Killer outing all in one holyday?

 

The pond hears there's supposed to be some sort of holiday going down, with people running wild and free in celebration of something or other, but there's no rest for the wicked, the reptiles and so the pond, though looking at what's on offer, perhaps they should have reverted to the good old days when even journos were allowed to acknowledge Xmas day as a holyday ...

What's the pond going to do with that load of old cobblers? 

The pond has absolutely no interest in the thoughts of the rat in the ranks from the deep north - apparently he's unaware of Dame Slap's campaign on the voice - and you could hurl a Hurley as far as you like and it would be never no mind to the pond.

And what's this reptile insistence on regurgitating the thoughts of a regurgitating irrelevance?

Do the reptiles know that the pond is sworn to pay attention to the onion muncher? Is this their way of ruining the pond's business model?

From the get go, the pond realised it was going to be a wasted day. 

As soon as the pond read the opening gambit - "As health minister in the Howard government, I was responsible ...", the pond realised that the onion muncher had seamlessly transitioned to tedious old fart, and should now be sipping a very dry sherry while ensconced on a leather chair in some dusty gentleman's club, haranguing bystanders about what they did in the war, back in the days when they had crispy bacon ...in my day, ah you young 'uns, back in my day ...

Of course what was more interesting in relation to the pandemic was the way a megalomaniac narcissist - not the onion muncher - used it as a weird excuse to seize power in weird ways. 

That yarn was still bobbing up in the Graudian with tales of a committee of one ...

There's a lot more at the end of the link, but the pond doesn't expect the onion muncher to go there ... all he's trying to establish is the wisdom of a quiet prayer of thanks that he'd been booted from office years before, and now was just an irrelevant old fart howling at the moon ... replete with the usual crocodile tears.

"Obviously, every death is sad; and no one should make light of a disease that can still kill the very old and the very vulnerable."

Obviously the pond shouldn't do spoilers, but obviously that's exactly what the onion muncher intends to do, but with that sanctimonious and righteous tone the pond always found deeply creepy ...

At this point the pond began to wonder why the reptiles were running the ruminations of this doddering old fart blowing in from the past like a blowfly fresh from a cow pat, but the tag at the end made it all clear, and the pond also understood why the final gobbet would begin with a reference to work ethic and work culture and dole bludgers and the like ...

The IPA! What a disaster it is, what a disaster he was, what a disaster he would have been. Is this some sort of weird way of attempting to build some sympathy for the liar from the Shire? 

Why it almost deserves a Royal Commission, but instead the pond will move on to its next obligatory duty, because canny pond followers will have noted that the Killer was on the loose ...

The pond should explain that with every reptile piece it likes to find at least one weirdness.

What's so weird about this? Well in his own subtle way, Killer seems to be slagging off the tedium of yet another Donald rally, and the smell of rotting flesh ...

And so the pond hung in, just to see the weirdness in action ...

Karl Rove? And there was the pond brooding about the onion muncher ...

But the pond could see where Killer was heading with this. There was a lot that needed forgetting ...

How could you expect the pond to endure the Killer without a few cartoons? Especially as Lindsey bobs up in the next gobbet ...

Indeed, indeed, but was Killer really preferring a corgi to News Corp's and Faux Noise's favourite Mafia heavy?

Was the Killer subtly hinting, without saying it, that he was done with the QAnon loving Mafia?

Who knows, who cares, and besides it was time to move on to a final obligatory duty, because the pond always pays attention to the bromancer. 

If we've had the bromancee, we must surely have the bromancer, even if the pond and the bromancer share a certain aversion to a Russian thug, a despot and authoritarian sociopath ...

As usual, the pond looked for some resonance elsewhere, and this time it came with a Philip Bump piece in WaPo (paywall) What if Tucker Carlson's wrong about more than just Russia?

Well there's no need to go with the video clips, now ancient and out of date, but that Bump in the night did make the pond wonder if the bromancer realised he was kissing cousins with Tuckyo Carlson ...

And News Corp has a long history of sending brayers and neighers into the town square to blather, per that Bump ...

In the old days, when the pond attended the Capitol Theatre in Tamworth, there would be talk of people speaking with forked tongues ...

It would seem that News Corp is adept at embracing Putin lovers, while sending the odd bromancer out to diss Putin ...

Actually Putin always has the News Corp option ...

And so on and so forth, and whatever it takes, which is why there's a bizarre echo of the Tuckyo and Cruz of Cancun mind set in that other issue featured by the infallible Pope this day ...