War!

 

The pond was startled by this morning's lizard Oz. The reptiles have officially declared the tax war over and launched a new war, instructing Captain Spud to follow orders and launch a new front ... he must prepare plans to nuke the country.

The war was announced in the tree killer edition ...

The war was top of the digital edition...

The pond was in a quandary ... there were the reptiles trolling that woman with the tatts, there was talk of the need to invade hospitals and shoot up patients, and there was a gigantic conspiracy in Victoria ... and yet the pond had to follow orders.

The pond knew it would get even worse below the fold ...

Hole in the bucket man Henry was being Churchillian and there was the Lynch mob and cackling Claire was also trolling the woman with tatts, while down from the deep north, the rat in the ranks - an expert at being a Murdochian lap dog - was blathering on about lapdogs.

The pond had to cast temptations aside. There was a new reptile crusade, and the pond must follow orders. The best it could offer as a compromise was a special late arvo edition of our Churchillian Henry and the Lynch mob, while it diligently worked away at nuking the country...

First up the lizard Oz editorialist outlined the new game plan,  the new strategy for the mutton Dutton to follow ...

There's a national crisis, and only by following reptile orders can it be solved. Forget that stage 3 tax cuts war, that was a blind alley. There's no juice in any of that, this is the new war ...

One of the most heroic foot soldiers in the war was Chambers, and they loaded the chamber at the top of the digital edition ... and naturally there was a shot of a coal-fired plant at the top of the page. How the pond misses the good old days where the reptiles' deep devotion to clean, virginal, dinkum Oz coal was on display daily.

But Valentine's Day is over, forget coal, we must nuke the country ...

You see? Right from the get go, the mighty Chambers lays it out: "The climate wars are set to be revived..."

Strange, the pond has some dim memory that in the distant past the climate wars involved reptile disputation that climate science was actually a science, when every reptile worth his salt knew it was a discredited religion with many false messiahs, unlike the holy band of Plimers, Moncktons and Riddsters,  not to forget the Bjorn-again one, hallowed be his name ...

Forget all that, there's a new war going down ... Chamber another gobbet for the cause ... sure, it'll take Ted months to catch up, but the reptiles have issued their orders and he'll hop to it ...

There will no doubt be a few jaundiced sceptics and cynics out there stifling a yawn. Hasn't this already been discussed endlessly?

No doubt, but this is no time to be a laggard, this is war ...

Why it's a bottomless Pitt, neither Pitt the elder, nor Pitt the younger, but Pitt the parliamentary researcher ...

Take it away pitiless Pitt ...

Oh that's awkward, some vestigial memory of journalism required the reptiles to talk to the enemy. Much like Tuckyo describing himself as a journalist, when everyone knows that in a court of law he was described as a bloviator, inclined to exaggeration ... 

Can the pond take a brief break from the war, just to celebrate the trolling by Vlad the impaler?

Sorry, sorry,  there's a reptile war on ... and below that now Chambered story there was a new story to Chamber ...

Usually the pond would downsize reptile images, but this was an artist's rendering that was perfect for the Chambering of the EXCLUSIVE ...

Yes, yes, they didn't unveil an actual working plant, but they did unveil a perfect artist's rendering, and so a story dated to mid-2023 by way of its lead snap is surely an astonishing EXCLUSIVE ...

Okay, there's nothing new, but the point is the repetition, the siren song of the reptiles, the rousing of the rage in the angertainment market ...

Now at last it can be seen why the pond had to ditch the trolling of Clementine and bump the Churchillian Henry to a late arvo slot ...

Why the pond barely had room to feature the immortal Rowe of the day ... with Captain Spud in charge of proceedings ...

Meanwhile, in the reptile war room, the diligent simpleton "here no conflict of interest" Simon was also on hand ...with the heroic leader featured at the top of the gobbet ...

Indeed, indeed, and the pond can't wait to see the excitement as the sites are named, though clearly we must begin by nuking the Hunter Valley and Gippsland ...

Why there could be working SMRs all over the country by 2030 ... (please, neighsayers, indulge the pond, the reptiles and Captain Spud, this is war) ...

Oh yes, there's an astonishing hunger for net zero, which will come as a surprise to the Major on Monday, and to the IPA,  and the dog botherer, and assorted other hangers-on, still rabbiting on endlessly about climate science being a religion and net zero a delusion ...

No doubt there are a few cynical disbelievers who think it's some kind of crude wedge, to be shoved up the bum of an excited electorate, but all out total war is an ugly business ...

The pond regrets that our Henry had to be bumped, but this war is so astonishing, and Captain Spud so adept at carrying out reptile orders, that the pond barely had room to express its disappointment for the lack of enthusiasm shown for keeping Barners around for the entertainment value.

Surely this infallible Pope will prove the pond correct. What a heavenly, ethereal vision to offer the troops as they march off to nuke the country ...

At first the pond thought of digging out some relevant song lyrics ...

Doth Thy Angel Come
From Mighty Grace
To Save The World
From Its Disgrace

You're like my angel
With a halo
Rising to the heavens above
You didn’t care about that stuff
But I do
You're my Angel
Can I borrow your halo
Rising to the clouds
I was safe and sound
With you
You're like my angel
With a halo
Rising to the heavens above
You didn’t care about that stuff
But I do
You're my Angel ...

But the pond is a traditionalist, and rushed off to Planet Gutenberg for a dose of Oscar, because it's a long time since the pond was once an extra in Lady Windermere's Fan ...

Dumby:  Awfully commercial, women nowadays.  Our grandmothers threw their caps over the mills, of course, but, by Jove, their granddaughters only throw their caps over mills that can raise the wind for them.

Lord Augustus:  You want to make her out a wicked woman.  She is not!

Cecil Graham:  Oh!  Wicked women bother one.  Good women bore one.  That is the only difference between them.

Lord Augustus:  [Puffing a cigar.]  Mrs. Erlynne has a future before her.

Dumby:  Mrs. Erlynne has a past before her.

Lord Augustus:  I prefer women with a past.  They’re always so demmed amusing to talk to.

Cecil Graham:  Well, you’ll have lots of topics of conversation with her, Tuppy.  [Rising and going to him.]

Lord Augustus:  You’re getting annoying, dear-boy; you’re getting demmed annoying.

Cecil Graham:  [Puts his hands on his shoulders.]  Now, Tuppy, you’ve lost your figure and you’ve lost your character.  Don’t lose your temper; you have only got one.

Lord Augustus:  My dear boy, if I wasn’t the most good-natured man in London—

Cecil Graham:  We’d treat you with more respect, wouldn’t we, Tuppy?  [Strolls away.]

Dumby:  The youth of the present day are quite monstrous.  They have absolutely no respect for dyed hair.  [Lord Augustus looks round angrily.]

Cecil Graham:  Mrs. Erlynne has a very great respect for dear Tuppy.

Dumby.  Then Mrs. Erlynne sets an admirable example to the rest of her sex.  It is perfectly brutal the way most women nowadays behave to men who are not their husbands.

Lord Windermere:  Dumby, you are ridiculous, and Cecil, you let your tongue run away with you.  You must leave Mrs. Erlynne alone.  You don’t really know anything about her, and you’re always talking scandal against her.

Cecil Graham:  [Coming towards him L.C.]  My dear Arthur, I never talk scandal.  I only talk gossip.

Lord Windermere:  What is the difference between scandal and gossip?

Cecil Graham:  Oh! gossip is charming!  History is merely gossip.  But scandal is gossip made tedious by morality.  Now, I never moralise.  A man who moralises is usually a hypocrite, and a woman who moralises is invariably plain.  There is nothing in the whole world so unbecoming to a woman as a Nonconformist conscience.  And most women know it, I’m glad to say.

Lord Augustus:  Just my sentiments, dear boy, just my sentiments.

Cecil Graham:  Sorry to hear it, Tuppy; whenever people agree with me, I always feel I must be wrong.

Lord Augustus:  My dear boy, when I was your age—

Cecil Graham:  But you never were, Tuppy, and you never will be.  [Goes up C.]  I say, Darlington, let us have some cards.  You’ll play, Arthur, won’t you?

Lord Windermere:  No, thanks, Cecil.

Dumby:  [With a sigh.]  Good heavens! how marriage ruins a man!  It’s as demoralising as cigarettes, and far more expensive.

Cecil Graham.: You’ll play, of course, Tuppy?

Lord Augustus:  [Pouring himself out a brandy and soda at table.]  Can’t, dear boy.  Promised Mrs. Erlynne never to play or drink again.

Cecil Graham:  Now, my dear Tuppy, don’t be led astray into the paths of virtue.  Reformed, you would be perfectly tedious.  That is the worst of women.  They always want one to be good.  And if we are good, when they meet us, they don’t love us at all.  They like to find us quite irretrievably bad, and to leave us quite unattractively good.

Lord Darlington:  [Rising from R. table, where he has been writing letters.]  They always do find us bad!

Dumby:  I don’t think we are bad.  I think we are all good, except Tuppy.

Lord Darlington:  No, we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.  [Sits down at C. table.]

Dumby:  We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars?  Upon my word, you are very romantic to-night, Darlington.

Cecil Graham:  Too romantic!  You must be in love.  Who is the girl?

Lord Darlington:  The woman I love is not free, or thinks she isn’t.  [Glances instinctively at Lord Windermere while he speaks.]

Cecil Graham:  A married woman, then!  Well, there’s nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman.  It’s a thing no married man knows anything about.

Lord Darlington:  Oh! she doesn’t love me.  She is a good woman.  She is the only good woman I have ever met in my life.

Cecil Graham:  The only good woman you have ever met in your life?

Lord Darlington:  Yes!

Cecil Graham:  [Lighting a cigarette.]  Well, you are a lucky fellow!  Why, I have met hundreds of good women.  I never seem to meet any but good women.  The world is perfectly packed with good women.  To know them is a middle-class education.

Lord Darlington:  This woman has purity and innocence.  She has everything we men have lost.

Cecil Graham:  My dear fellow, what on earth should we men do going about with purity and innocence?  A carefully thought-out buttonhole is much more effective.

Dumby:  She doesn’t really love you then?

Lord Darlington:  No, she does not!

Dumby:  I congratulate you, my dear fellow.  In this world there are only two tragedies.  One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.  The last is much the worst; the last is a real tragedy!  But I am interested to hear she does not love you.  How long could you love a woman who didn’t love you, Cecil?

Cecil Graham: A woman who didn’t love me?  Oh, all my life!

Dumby:  So could I.  But it’s so difficult to meet one.

Lord Darlington:  How can you be so conceited, Dumby?

Dumby:  I didn’t say it as a matter of conceit.  I said it as a matter of regret.  I have been wildly, madly adored.  I am sorry I have.  It has been an immense nuisance.  I should like to be allowed a little time to myself now and then.

Lord Augustus:  [Looking round.]  Time to educate yourself, I suppose.

Dumby:  No, time to forget all I have learned.  That is much more important, dear Tuppy.  [Lord Augustus moves uneasily in his chair.]

Lord Darlington:  What cynics you fellows are!

Cecil Graham:  What is a cynic?  [Sitting on the back of the sofa.]

Lord Darlington:  A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Cecil Graham:  And a sentimentalist, my dear Darlington, is a man who sees an absurd value in everything, and doesn’t know the market price of any single thing.

Lord Darlington:  You always amuse me, Cecil.  You talk as if you were a man of experience.

Cecil Graham:  I am.  [Moves up to front off fireplace.]

Lord Darlington:  You are far too young!

Cecil Graham:  That is a great error.  Experience is a question of instinct about life.  I have got it.  Tuppy hasn’t.  Experience is the name Tuppy gives to his mistakes.  That is all.  [Lord Augustus looks round indignantly.]

Dumby:  Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes.

Cecil Graham:  [Standing with his back to the fireplace.]  One shouldn’t commit any.  [Sees Lady Windermere’s fan on sofa.]

Dumby:  Life would be very dull without them.

Cecil Graham:  Of course you are quite faithful to this woman you are in love with, Darlington, to this good woman?

Lord Darlington:  Cecil, if one really loves a woman, all other women in the world become absolutely meaningless to one.  Love changes one—I am changed.

Cecil Graham:  Dear me!  How very interesting!  Tuppy, I want to talk to you.  [Lord Augustus takes no notice.]

Dumby:  It’s no use talking to Tuppy.  You might just as well talk to a brick wall.

Cecil Graham: But I like talking to a brick wall—it’s the only thing in the world that never contradicts me!  Tuppy!

Lord Augustus:  Well, what is it?  What is it?  [Rising and going over to Cecil Graham.]

Cecil Graham:  Come over here.  I want you particularly.  [Aside.]  Darlington has been moralising and talking about the purity of love, and that sort of thing, and he has got some woman in his rooms all the time.

Lord Augustus:  No, really! really!

Cecil Graham:  [In a low voice.]  Yes, here is her fan.  [Points to the fan.]

If only Oscar had ended that part of act III with "this is her SMR", the pond's day would have been compleat ...