In which the pond is left to crater with the Cater, the Major is cut short, and amazingly there's cricket on the pond rather than on the green ...

 

While harping on Meta, the pond thought it might draw attention to this review in Ars Technica - Meta Quest Pro review: For those with more money than sense.

And as Twitter begins its implosion, Elon Musk Amplifies Baseless Conspiracy Theory in Pelosi Attack.

Musk linked out to a story, which is no longer accessible, in an online conservative rag called the Santa Monica Observer claiming that the suspect did not break into the Pelosis’ San Francisco home hunting for Nancy.

Instead the invisibly sourced “story” alleged that Paul Pelosi, 82, was having a liaison with a male sex worker. While others have also hinted at this rumor—twisting themselves into pretzels to explain such details as the broken window and a 911 call—none of them have the reach or influence of Musk.

It's already a rat-infested sewer, but this King Rat will give it all the appeal of a dose of the bubonic plague ...

Meanwhile, back with the domestic reptiles, the pond was shattered on its first trip to the car wash in a long time. 

There was a copy of the Sunday Terror, full of the usual - a ranting petulant Peta, and a much diminished, postage stamp-sized Akker Dakker - but there was also the previous day's Terror to hand, and in it was dashing Donners.

The pond was mortified, devastated. 

For those who came in late, dashing Donners - Kevin Donnelly to his chums - was at one time a pond staple, with his Catholic fundamentalism and rants about education a thing truly weird to behold.

In this Terror release, he was rabbiting on in the usual way about Xianity and all that, but had been reduced by News Corp to a tabloid hack. How the mighty had fallen into the mud, the lizard Oz stars but a dream for this exhausted rocket.

Once upon a time, dashing Donners' rants had routinely graced the lizard Oz, but now he was reduced to the Terror, a rag roughly akin to a brush with a serve of the bubonic plague ... a medieval village the pond long ago stopped visiting.

Never mind, we must all suffer for our ranting, and so the pond turned to the Caterist today, as is the pond's wont, before the recent rude interruption, and the likely chance that the NBN will go down at least three times for long stretches this week ... perhaps even interrupting the pond in mid-flight ...

The pond must apologise for that no talent cartoon creeping into the mix, but in a way it's fitting, with the no talent cartoon a perfect match for a third rate sociology student's thoughts ...

It also reminded the pond of a problem it has with the younglings glueing themselves to art works. First of all, what has van Gogh done to harm the planet?

Second, an art gallery or a museum is an easy target, and entirely pointless, a headline soon whisked away by the wind. 

Likely enough, the target demographic that might be shocked by such activities is already onside. These are the wimpy fully wet liberal set routinely savaged by the likes of the lizard Oz, those who wonder why van Gogh didn't use enough teal in the colour palate.

If the vulgar youffs wanted an easy target with some relevance, why don't the younglings glue themselves to the doors of News Corp or Sky After Dark, or the MRC?

Sure, these real villains would likely impose a news blackout, and try to ignore any attack on their daily bout of climate science denialism, but there'd be ways to get news of the youngling activities out and about ...

They might even try to glue themselves to Vlad the sociopathic war-mongering country-destroying Terrible or coal-loving Chairman Xi, but the pond understands this might pose more risks than a van Gogh could muster ...

As it is, the shock and awe assault on artworks tends to produce an awesome shock at the sublime irrelevance of the gesture ...

Just a helpful pond thought, as it returns to the Caterist ...

You see younglings? Another assault on renewables from a reliable ratbag, a man notoriously judged an expert on the movement of flood waters in quarries ...

Put the Caterist up against the likes of van Gogh, and you get a man with ear troubles up against a noxious, vacuous, vexatious, endlessly repetitive  twit ...

You also get a hypocrite, because many have noted that the Caterist himself is not adverse to a luxury Sydney north shore lifestyle, and has had luxury beliefs of his own, weird, fantastical beliefs that led to a big implosion, very expensive markers of reptile social status ...

And so on and on (perhaps with paywall), and yet the federal government routinely supplies cash in the paw to help the MRC stay in business ...

Go figure that, younglings ...

As for the rest of the reptiles it was a dull day ...

Simplistic "no conflict of interest here, here no conflict of interest" Simon was on a polling bender, and that took up the top of the digital page ...

It also topped the tree killer edition, along with shock and horror about young boys aspiring to be thugby leaguers ... though naturally the horsies were on hand to help inspire male younglings to take an interest in English literature ...

With all that, the pond had barely time to read the Major, and settled for a single gobbet - spoiler alert, it's the very last of the Major's minor thoughts - wherein the Major assigns all hope, effort and duty to the ABC ...

In his meandering down old days, old ways, and the Major's useless track record, there were the usual excuses and obfuscations, but the pond loves the notion that somehow it's impossible for the Murdochians to do anything, and so it's up to the national broadcaster, and never mind the many reptile efforts to chop off the cardigan wearers' budget at the knees, in a black knight style befitting the Major ...

Chopping the Major short also allowed the pond to nick off to spend time with Nick, giving a cricketer a good nicking...

Usually the pond pays no heed to cricket, or sport of any kind, but the pond admits to taking an interest in events involving the funder of the IPA, per Michael Bradley at Crikey ... (paywall?)

Well yes, given the chance to disavow her dad's thinking, or getting the sulks, the IPA funder naturally wanted to toss the toys out of the crib ...

“Sadly recent media does not help encourage sporting sponsorships.” With that — and an expression of their earnest desire to not “add to netball’s disunity problems” — Gina Rinehart’s companies Hancock Prospecting and Roy Hill took their $15 million off Netball Australia’s balance sheet.
The problem, Rinehart said in separate comments, is that sport should not be used to push social or political views, implying that must have been the motivation behind Indigenous netballer Donnell Wallam’s concerns about wearing the Hancock name on her uniform when she debuts for Australia next week.
Confusion abounds, as commentators try to find some stable ethical ground between Wallam’s stand, that of Australian cricket captain Pat Cummins (who has reportedly expressed disquiet about Alinta Energy’s sponsorship of his team), and the seven Manly Warringah rugby league players who recently refused to wear their club’s rainbow jersey because it offended their religious beliefs about LGBTQIA+ people.
It would help, of course, if we stuck to the facts and resisted the temptation to project; precisely what Rinehart failed to do when she threw her toys out of the cot. Her statements attempt to reframe the story as an objection to sponsorship by mining companies, but Wallam and her teammates who stood in support of her never raised an objection on that basis.
The issue, about which Wallam was explicit, focused exclusively on the Hancock name — because it comes from Rinehart’s father and company founder, Lang Hancock. Wallam has an issue, she said, with comments he made in the 1980s. In an interview, Hancock addressed the “Aboriginal problem” in these terms:
The ones that are no good to themselves and can’t accept things, the half-castes — and this is where most of the trouble comes — I would dope the water up so that they were sterile and would breed themselves out in future and that would solve the problem.
Well, you’ll either understand Wallam’s concern, or you won’t. There’s no point trying to convince anyone either way.

And as a cricketer was mentioned, naturally the reptiles took up the chanting ...

What's funny about this? Well do Nick's own exacting standards match up, given he's sharing space with the Caterist, the Major, the dog botherer, and all the rest of the climate denialist pack still in plain sight at News Corp?

As befits a reptile, Nick isn't given to navel gazing, not when he can hit a cricketer for a simpering righteous six ...

Only a reptile scribbling away for News Corp could be full of such righteous indignation about double standards ...

Come on Nick, nick off and have a read in The Conversation of Gabi Mocatta's What's behind News Corp's new spin on climate change? 

It was back in October 2021, and now is long done and dusted ... but inter alia at the time ...

At times like this, Nick, the pond is inclined to go biblical, or to be more precise Matthew 7, 3-5:

And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

And so on and on righteous, sanctimonious Nick ...

Yep, when it comes to anyone who talks up climate science and the dangers of climate change, there'll be a reptile to hand to lop them off ... yet meanwhile, the righteous hypocrisy runs rampant ...

What might it mean? Well nothing has changed in reptile la la land, but there's the strange sight of the pond talking about cricket ... or at least a cricketer trying to make a crust in what is always a short working life, while at the same time worrying about doing what might be right ...

And that means there's also the predictable sight of a reptile with his head stuck up his righteous arse ... and with that the pond can safely turn to the immortal Rowe for a wrap-up to the entertainment, with a beefy boofhead playing the black ...

In which the pond returns to the usual interminable rambling at the lizard Oz ...

 

So here's one place the pond won't be going this day ...

It was on the top of the digital page yesterday, and no doubt can be found today for anyone who can be fucked looking ...

This, on top of this request by the learned judge, not a day old, and forced to deal with a jury member who at the least should have been charged with contempt of court...

Higgins was ill-advised to speak after the trial was aborted, but what excuse does Dame Slap have to offer?

What a wretched and pathetic outing, of the kind you might expect from a jihadist ideologue without the slightest interest in a seemly response to a polite judicial request ... 

"Some respite from the intense glare of the media that has been pervasive in this trial"? 

Not in Planet Janet's world far above the faraway tree. Instead put her image at the top of the digital page, to help sell Dame Slap and the lizard Oz to the world ...

But is there another way? Well, if a classic doggy boy outing gets the punters excited, what are the odds of Lloydie of the Amazon setting the planet on fire?

The pond should probably have started with a bit of housekeeping, which is to say that in the pond's current situation, postings are likely to be a little erratic and later in the day, but one way or another, the mail must get through ...

This is the  lizard Oz crossing the Border,

Bringing the anti-woke rants, as ancient as a postal order,

Rants for the rich, rants at the poor,

The suffering small businessman at the corner, the uppity hussy next door.

Pulling up Polonius, a steady climb:

The gradient's against him but he's on Ming the merciless time.

Past festering Lloydie denialist and moorland "Ned" boulder

Shovelling white steam from innocent Oz coal over shoulder,

Snorting noisily as they pass

Noisy miles of wind-bent shameless arse.

Birds turn their heads as they approach,

Stare from bushes at the blank-faced Murdochian slow coaches.

Sheep-dogs cannot turn their course;

They slumber on with paws across.

In the farm "Ned" passes, no one wakes,

But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes... (apologies to W H Auden, the longer original here, and yes, the pond should leave this to experts in the field)

Well it'll be on with the gently shaking jug in due and proper course, but back to Lloydie, though everyone knows where this is heading, to Argentina, perhaps by way of Greece ...

What's all this wailing? Surely climate science is just the fever dream of religious zealots? Surely Lloydie can straighten all this out, in much the same way that he saved the Amazon ...

Some might think the planet is comprehensively fucked, but when climate science is just the fever dream of a few religious zealots, anything is possible ...  though of course the reptiles must embellish the gobbet with a shot of a coal-fired plant doing its best for the planet ...

Well Lloydie of the Amazon has never wavered, unless you call the spreading of FUD a form of wavering ...

There then, all's the best in the best of all possible worlds ... dinkum clean Oz coal is triumphant, the reptiles have won, nothing has been done or accomplished, Lloydie has done his bit, Chairman Xi has the matter in hand, and so the world can look forward to ever-increasing signs of Murdochian victory ...

There’s “no credible pathway to 1.5C in place” today, the UN Environment Programme (UNEP) insisted in a new report, despite legally binding promises made at the 2015 Paris Climate Conference to prevent average temperatures rising by more than 1.5C above pre-industrial levels.
Uncomfortable truth
“This report tells us in cold scientific terms what nature has been telling us all year, through deadly floods, storms and raging fires: we have to stop filling our atmosphere with greenhouse gases, and stop doing it fast,” said Inger Andersen, Executive Director of UNEP.
“We had our chance to make incremental changes, but that time is over. Only a root-and-branch transformation of our economies and societies can save us from accelerating climate disaster.”
Despite Nationally Determined Contributions (NDC) promises made by governments in favour of reducing their carbon footprint, pledges made since the last climate summit in Glasgow in 2021 will lead to cuts of less than one per cent of projected 2030 greenhouse gas emissions, according to UNEP.
Paltry reductions
This is the equivalent of just 0.5 gigatonnes of CO2, UNEP calculated, adding that only a 45 per cent emissions reduction will limit global warming to 1.5C.
As it stands today, latest data indicates that the world is on track for a temperature rise of between 2.4C and 2.6C by the end of this century.
“In the best-case scenario, full implementation of unconditional NDCs and additional net-zero emissions commitments point to only a 1.8C increase, so there is hope. However, this scenario is not currently credible based on the discrepancy between current emissions, short-term NDC targets and long-term net-zero targets,” UNEP said. (more here)

Yep, and meanwhile the sociopathic Vlad the Terrible fucks over Ukraine, with the same spirit that the Murdochians routinely fuck over climate science. What glorious summers there will be for York and the planet ...

And so on to Polonius, who these days prefers to stay back in the times of Ming the Merciless ...

The pond suddenly thought less of the ANU, but leaving that aside, gorgeous George should have known he had no business writing about Ming the Merciless without first receiving full Polonial approval.

In the next gobbet, Polonius turns to Alex Antic, a genuine loon, without capturing the richness of flavour in the loonery, as could be observed here ... so spoiler alert, an early warning ...

That obligatory mention of "wokeness" is the loon cherry on the loon cake, because anyone who has bothered to read the bible will remember that Christ was fully woke ... though the wokeness can take odd forms ...

Sorry, that was early in the pond's return to reading Polonius. First time back with Polonius for awhile, and the immediate urge was to go elsewhere for a laugh ...

Now on with the Antics and the Malware ...

We've all been there before ...

REG: Right. You're in. Listen. The only people we hate more than the Labor party are the fucking sopping wet liberal Ming the Merciless People's Front.

P.F.J.: Yeah...

JUDITH: Splitters.

P.F.J.: Splitters...

FRANCIS: And the Menzies Popular Terribly Wet People's Front.

P.F.J.: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Splitters. Splitters...

LORETTA: And the People's Front of the foaming wet Cinque Ports.

P.F.J.: Yeah. Splitters. Splitters...

REG: What?

LORETTA: The Polonial Front of Ming the Merciless devotees. Splitters.

REG: We're the Polonial Front of Ming the Merciless devotees!

LORETTA: Oh. I thought we were the Popular Front.

REG: People's Front! C-huh.

FRANCIS: Whatever happened to the Polonial Front, Reg?

REG: He's over there.

P.F.J.: Splitter! 

And so on and on ... and now in Polonius's own words, as assorted splitters, deviants, heretics and ne'er do well are sorted out ...

Talk about a completely vacuous and pointless piece, with a conclusion so self-evident, you have to wonder about Polonius's sanity. 

No one would know what a dead Norwegian Blue parrot thinks about today's Liberal party? Well d'uh, but does anyone know what Polonius thinks he's thinking today?

There's at least some fair evidence in all that introspection that Polonius isn't the brightest ball of bees' wax in the hive ...

And so to the Everest known as "Ned", and the pond only offers it so that those who feel the need for a climb can get a little work-out ...

Okay, the pond has said it many times before, but must say it again. This was the web version, found on the web, and the pond opened the web version, and what's the fucking point of that message?

Second, the pond has some budget cartoons left over thanks to the break, and so will use them up, beginning with an infallible Pope ...

It won't help with the climb, but it might lighten the "Ned" load ...

Okay, the reptiles threw in a Lobbecke, making the pond wonder whether the cult master was making a return, because the reptiles knew that struggling through a "Ned" outing couldn't be done without cartoon relief ...

And the pond was happy to match that with an immortal Rowe ...

And now back to "Ned", as always doing his Chicken Little impression ...

Indeed, there's nothing like leadership over empathy ...

Around this point in the saga, the pond always wonders if anyone pays attention to this portentous, sententious bore, issuing orders, advice and instructions in no particular order, all the time shouting that the sky is about to fall ...

Not the missing link ...

By golly, when the pond looked at that portrait, it was hard to tell if it was of a potato or of "Ned" ...

... and still with three gobbets to go!

Not to worry, it's all under control ... Dr Jim is in the clinic ...

Meanwhile back to "Ned" being given a headache by things like wages and taxes ...

And there's a line which sticks in the pond's craw. "Labor needs to break the psychology of easy spending that arose during the period - but the jury is out on whether it possesses the conviction to do the job."

That's the way it goes with "Ned" - Labor must, or Labor needs to, or blather about convictions, but the pond can't remember "Ned" carrying on like that when SloMo and his wretched band of rorters and spendthrifts were at the peak of their game ...

Where were the "musts" and "needs" when the gloom-laden sod saw the Liberals throwing the economy under the bus.

Here's part of a piece back on 17th December 2021 ... when it was all part of a changing world and the needs of the people and yadda yadda ...

And to make matters worse, here's "Ned" celebrating a foreign policy chenius ...

And so here we are, and it's left to others to try to put Humpty Dumpty back together again ...

What a tedious old bore he is, but there, a few will have climbed the Everest, and the pond can celebrate by catching up with an infallible Pope celebrating domitable Dom at his finest ...

In which the pond returns, but only for the entertainment ...

 

The pond decided on a strict rule - so long at it had a cannula in the hand, it wasn't going to waste energy pounding on a keyboard to help the reptiles with their constant, beseeching, screeching need for attention.

Not that the pond wasn't busy. The pond had to cheer on the Musk, just so that the entertainment might continue. What if he invites the Donald back on to the platform, and Truth Social goes down the gurgler? How will all the investors in the snake oil take that?

What if the Donald refuses to come? What if he does come and a horde of neo-Nazis, white supremacists, Tuckyo lovers and wannabe Pelosi killers follow him?

What if Musk spends his days attending to the needs of cat turds? How long's that going to last?

The great thing about enforced time away is that there's a stack of immortal Rowes and infallible Popes to hand ...

And then there was splendid news that Mark Z had taken a bath, without benefit of bath water, and the pond knew it could add Meta and the Metaverse to the Facebook it had never used. And then came news that Instagram was intending to revive the very best features of MySpace, and there might be a new era for html and identifying songs, and how soon can the Meta company buyout drop to a MetaMySpace fire sale $3 million? 

And finally it seems TikTok was interested in using its features to track certain citizens. (All summarised on YouTube in Twitter Sinks, Meta Stinks).

And then there was the Rish. For a moment, it seemed like he'd be playing a straight bat, but the pond sent a Jewish space laser in his direction and leaky Su had a second life ... while in the United States, the sublimate idiocy of Herscel's campaign was boosted by the presence of Miss Lindsey ...

It took a supreme act of will to return to the land of the reptiles and look at what the pond had been deliberately missing for a week. Not once did the pond turn to the lizard Oz in the interim - there was so much better entertainment elsewhere  - but the feeling of nausea returned with astonishing speed and ferocity, thanks to the dog botherer ...

It's just the same old, same old, and the pond would rather be off listening to James O'Brien rant about the Rish in James O’Brien is astounded by Rishi Sunak’s ‘hat-trick’ of ‘hideous’ environmental decisions.

As the dog botherer had started in the usual tiresome way with a header about virtue, the pond felt the need to turn to a Wilcox ...

By golly, how soon can Wilcox send the dog botherer that guernsey. "Proudly cooking our planet"?

Now back to the cooking ... and sure enough all the usual scientific language spews out like a poisoned bowl of spag, with "high priest", "hubris of a zealot," "crusade", "altar", etc, because the dog botherer is no climate scientist, and a fuckwit to boot, and so must always frame science as a religious matter, even as reports come in of the kind Current emissions pledges will lead to catastrophic climate breakdown, says UN.

Dos any of this bother the cocksure, sanctimonious dog botherer? Of course not ...

The pond knows that at some point the dog botherer will drag in talk of nuking the planet, so it thought it might get in early by referencing these lines from the keen Keane in Crikey ...(paywall)

...Peter Dutton confirmed this Republican-like shift in his budget reply. On climate, Dutton is hardening the Coalition’s opposition to real climate action and wants to expand coal and gas.

We need “coal, gas, hydro, hydrogen, nuclear or batteries as an energy source or to store power when renewables aren’t feeding the system. But Labor is going to phase out coal and gas before the new technology has been developed and rolled out,” he claimed. He also accused the government of “ripping up funding” for gas exploration and cancelling gas infrastructure projects, as well as “handing over funding to environmental activists who want to overturn gas project approvals”.

Literally none of these things have happened. The current government is indistinguishable from its predecessor in its enthusiasm for fossil fuels. Like Michelle Landry, Dutton is inventing offence for something that simply didn’t happen.

Dutton’s enthusiasm for nuclear power is like his enthusiasm for carbon capture and storage. It’s the polite form of climate denialism.

It’s no longer quite the done thing to openly reject climate science or claim the whole thing is a hoax if you’re a senior figure in the Coalition. But you can signal that you reject it by talking about the myth of carbon capture, or spruiking the equally mythical “small modular reactors” that are “just around the corner” to provide cheap reliable energy — we just have to keep burning coal and gas while we wait.

That deserves a cartoon ...

And now it's just a matter of waiting until the dog botherer does mutton Dutton nuking the country routine, though the pond thinks that the keen Keane is being exceptionally kind calling it a polite kind of climate science denialism.

There's nothing polite about watching the dog botherer wank in public ...

It's true that there's been a lot of suffering of late ...

An alternative explanation for all the flooding?

Now back to the dog botherer ...

Ah, hairdressing. It's easy to see why the dog botherer would get agitated about hairdressing. What need for that in the manly world of the follicly challenged. 

And as for Teslas, why, we're almost back with that smell of musk, though Pope favoured an FJ when the pond's first vehicle was an FX ...

And now finally  here comes the nuking the country bit, with bonus ABC bashing ...

Meanwhile, in another country ...

And now because the pond is on short rations for its return, there's only a serve of the bomancer to go, but it's a bloody long one, seven gobbets deep and running into a blustery swell ...

Of course we've seen it all before. The new messiah was out and about not so long ago ...

That was celebrated here, but it was short-lived, and it turned out that she wasn't the messiah, she was just a naught girl, but sure enough the Rish now could be the great uniter of our time ...

And then there's leaky Su and not giving a toss about the planet, and the aftershock of Brexit resonating everywhere, except perhaps in the bell that passes for the Bromancer brain...

What joy there was when the pond was watching with fascination ...

The important thing, if you happen to be the bromancer, is to forget all that, wipe it from mind, including the classic fuck-up currently going down in Northern Ireland, and see what can be retrieved from the flames ...

Ah, the Indian sun rises over the empire ... but what could possibly go wrong? It's all gone spiffingly well so far ...

... and leaky Su's there to help tidy up the mess and send the refugees off to Rwanda.... what could possibly go wrong?

Ah, the markets, always the markets, damn you capitalism, and so to a standard bout of climate science denialism ... but perhaps first a Rowson crying in the wilderness ...

And so to fracking getting a fucking over ...

Frankly the pond has every expectation that Rish and his team will lead the country to greater glory ... what a team, what a vision, no re-treads for the FJ here ...

.

.. and so does the bromancer hold out hope for the team...

It would be easy for the pond to trawl back through the bromancer's worshipping of Brexit and of BoJo and all that follies that have follows, but he's going on at such tedious length, that would only add to the suffering ...

Perhaps it's sufficient to note the tragedy of the ABC giving space to this prize loon and his weird fundamentalist tyke take on things ...

Now it feels so long ago, and yet still a fresh, comprehensive fuck-up, and the pond has every confidence that the fucking up, and so the entertainment, will continue ...

And so at last to the final gobbet, but not before a scene-setting final cartoon ...

Oh yes, it's all rich,  in a non-domiciled wife, tax avoiding sort of way ...

The pond ended mildly astonished. The bromancer had started with such certainty, ready to hail the great uniter of our time, only to end with, not a bang, but a whimper, and idle chatter about succeeding against the odds ...

And yet here we are, with an empty Brexit tin on the table, a corpse in view, a monster and a crime scene ...

And as usual, here's the original nightmare for inspiration ...