In which Polonial intermarriage saves the day, there's a little Jennings of the third form, and instead of "Ned", the bromancer provides the Everest this day ...

 

The dog botherer laid down the gauntlet yesterday...

...These groups have been running video ads highlighting clips of relatively obscure Indigenous activists to generate fear about the voice being a radical, even communist, outfit pushing for reparations and the like. Completely ignored in this scare campaign, running strongly on social media, are the pertinent facts that the voice can only ever be advisory and will always remain under the control of the parliament.
The No campaigners relentlessly use the R-word – race – even though the voice is not about race, the proposed amendment does not mention race and most Australians are not concerned with issues of race. Yet the No campaign run by the Advance Australia, Fair Australia and their CPAC allies, including their friends among Coalition conservatives, is replete with talk about “race-based” provisions and “dividing the nation by race”.
It sounds very American. And not in a good way.

... and today prattling Polonius accepted the challenge and picked up the glove, though in an inimitable way, as only Polonius could manage ...

All the classic signs of a Polonial rant are there, the difference being that this time it it's not the Graudian or the ABC or even Nine, but a novelist. As for toning down the language, is there any problem noting that the pond has landed in a right wing stack of straw dogs and hay?

To whit, but not to woo, the opening of the next gobbet is distilled essence of Polonius.  

The old dotard heads back to January 1993, throws in a name drop to Trevor Sykes - guaranteed to appeal to a younger demographic, from around 60 up - and then boasts how he was in at the start of the culture wars and might even have been responsible for starting same.

It's true heading back to January 1983 or even January 1973 would have been even better but the preening repetition of hoary, ancient arguments is a classic ploy ...

Ah, the pond scribbled too soon. The pond should have known that the ABC would get into it somehow, as diabolical as novelists who indulge in a little whimsy about an invading Tonga. Don't expect a sensa huma from Polonius, not even if you installed AI could you manage a robotic laugh ...

And so to Polonius prattling away, from the safety and comfort of the Sydney Institute, explaining how everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds, because intermarriage saves the day and a canny Aboriginal man in urgent need of a third wife - if you like marriage try it many times - might well land a socially redeeming arrangement, though Polonius modestly and discreetly forebears to mention that Warren Mundine got third time lucky by marrying into the Hendersons ... so that Catholics might cluster together and spend their time praying together at night ...

Scribbles the man who can't help himself, and spent his column sledging all and sundry, and even proudly reverting to 1993 to boast that it was he wot did it and started it all, in his own, modest, Mr Pooterish way ...

But intermarriage is a splendid idea, why didn't the pond think of it? Dilute the strain, breed them out, get them down to octoroon as quick as a flash, and soon enough quintroon, and soon enough everyone will be able to pass as nicely suntanned. Problem solved. Eugenics anyone?

And so to a bonus, and the pond has a lengthy effort by armchair general Bromancer as the closer, but first a little detour via Jennings of the third form. 

The pond rarely spends time with Jennings - if the pond wants school stories it will always revert to Frank Richards, Greyfriars and Bunter - but last outing produced some splendid angertainment, not least arising from the way that Jennings did an epic both siderist burst that manages to absolve pretty much everyone except public servants.

When you're on a good routine, stick to it, it's the reptile way...

It wasn't a good start. Did the reptiles have to feature Slomo, grimacing as if suffering from stigmata? Then it was game on, with cricket the yardstick ...

It would be great fun to see Sir Humphreys give the pollies a public dressing down, but Jennings was just starting to warm up, sublimely astonished that "politics dominates a discussion about the conduct of public administration."

For those in the stalls noting that politicians have more than a little to say about the policies and the conduct of public administration, just settle and enjoy the ride ...

The pond allowed that snap, if only as an example of what the pond routinely endures thanks to the flailing failing lizard Oz graphics department ...

Say what? Did Jennings just hint that perhaps politicians should carry the can? Might it be that public servants prefer to stay employed rather than challenge loud-mouthed bully boys ever ready to go on vacation once they've set the wheels in motion?

What happens if you challenge them? Why, you get moved along, and quikstix too, so that the beach goers can head back to the beach ...

And so to a short final gobbet dreaming the impossible dream ...

Good luck with that ...

And so to the Sunday Everest, and it's with some relief that the pond can advise it isn't "Ned", it's the bromancer in a far reaching assessment of everything ...

What set the bromancer off? Could he still be bearing scars from this outburst? 

Gad sir, it's true that the reptiles are ensconced in Surry Hills, an inner city suburb blessed with the finest baristas in the world, but the pond has seen no sign the bromancer is a devout latte sipper, nor is it in any way accurate to call him an armchair moralist.

He's an armchair general. and true enough, how he loves to lecture, what fun he has hearing the sound of his own voice, or keyboard if you will..

The pond doesn't have the foggiest way the bromancer is carrying on like this. As soon as Faux Noise gets a Republican president all will be well... just look at Jonathan V. Last in The Bulwark before the paywall kicks in ...

So everything's under control, and the bromancer is armchair generalling needlessly ...

But the US is doing its best, and many noble Senators are helping the cause ...

Meanwhile, the bromancer decides to chuck a nervous nellie wobbly about his war with China by Xmas ... as armchair generals are wont to do ...

The pond is tremendously pleased someone asked that question, even if it was a rhetorical bromancer, because it allows the bromancer a chance to armchair general the home front ...

Remarkably what's left of the wretched lizard Oz graphics department decided that this was the time to throw in two huge pictures of the usual suspects ...

Even if the hastie pastie looks like he's just seen the ghost of an Afghanistan civilian, it keeps the length down to downsize and double up, and the pond can quickly get back to the armchair generalling ... and what a gloomy situation it is, though it has to be said that the bromancer himself has contributed to the fog of war over the years. 

Waiter, an Eisensteinian montage of a few bromancer sub headlines if you please ... no need to go a full five fathoms deep, just stay on the surface ...

It might seem like a harsh judgement on the armchair general, but he's been very Artha and Martha from day one of the subs saga ... and he's still going on about them ...

At this point there was another image in urgent need of downsizing ...

... as the bromancer turned to Ukraine ...

At this point the failing graphics department ill-advisedly snuck in a snap of a Bushmaster and a line about the Ukrainians liking them, which seemed to undercut the bromancer's rant ...

Never mind, there's still plenty of ranting to go ...

Well yes, the pond would like to see more support offered to Ukraine, and gobbles down news of Russian disarray, whether it be Putin says he tried but failed to oust Prigozhin after Wagner mutiny or Russian General Denounces His Bosses as Officers are Fired or Questioned or Kremlin News Stars Unravel in Post-Mutiny Television Fiasco.

But why's the bromancer rabbiting on about the Wedgetail, why did the feeble graphics department throw in a snap. Isn't this suggesting that help is on the way?

Never mind, at last there's just one gobbet to go ...and credit where credit is due, the bromancer has failed to brood about tanks at his usual great length ...

There is a solution, though the pond hesitates to mention it. 

Turn the News Corp building in Surry Hills into a bunker, a strategic command post, turn the Australian economy into a war machine of the kind that could be found in Germany in the 1930s, make sure the bunker nerve centre is supplied with abundant coffee, and seek out an armchair general to run the whole enterprise. 

Modesty prevents the pond from naming a candidate, but if you see an energiser bunny jumping jack, armed with a terrifying keyboard, and regularly exploding while jumping up and down, it should be easy enough to pick the winner ...

And so to celebrate things that don't matter a little more as a closer ...