And so to that "Ned" Everest, shimmering in the late afternoon sun, beckoning to mountaineers ...

 

The pond promised a weekend serve of "Ned's" natter, or more aptly "Ned" endlessly quoting others, including that great authority, the windmill hater with an office in Goulburn, the beefy boofhead, and so it has finally come to pass, there being a season under the sun ...

But the pond shouldn't do spoilers, not when it's time to plunge right in the deep end, full of alarming and truly terrifying visions, beyond apocalyptic ...

What a splendid, truly dazzling artwork and Eisensteinian montage, so colourful and evocative, to help climbers get off to a solid start, and move on from base camp.

The final mile should be relatively easy for those who know that the reality is grimmer, everything is dangerous, there are nightmare scenarios unfolding as "Ned" scribbles, none of which will sound much like a famine in Gaza or a rapidly melting planet...

Luckily the next gobbet is short but already the quotes are flowing and things are red hot, and whatever you do, don't poke the bear ...

At this point the pond assembled all the snaps designed to alleviate boredom ...

Then the full chicken little fear-mongering and extensive quoting could get under way in earnest. Warning, sobriety alert ... turmoil and panic and possibly falling sky ahead ...

Amazing how endless quoting of others can turn you into a pundit.

But as for the vast turmoil and the fallout, are we in Ukraine yet?

Sorry, the pond just had to throw that one in, because without the snaps, the terrain can seem endless and endlessly the same ...

A disappointing gobbet. Not nearly enough panic, or nightmare scenarios, though there was the odd big. bump on the narrow path, with risks on all sides, and surely after the summer, there will be winter in the garden, that's before the spring, if there ever is another spring ...

Thank the long absent lord the beefy boofhead has arrived with news of deep pain. Why he's always been a splendid futurist, as one harking back to 2002 will recall in Huge wind farm that Angus Taylor rejected marks its official opening.

As for maths, why the beefy boofhead is a master (possible paywall) ...

Oh it's fundamentally challenging, it is ...

That's pretty dull stuff ...  what about another dollop of the beefy boofhead doing his best for the planet?

Then it was back to sounding the alarums and talk of credentials and such like...

Indeed, indeed, and forget that blather about a surplus, as if a surplus would placate the reptiles in full fear-mongering "Ned" flight, but the pond is certain that things will get better, because a saviour is at hand ...

And with that the pond has filibustered its way to a final gobbet of saucy doubts and fears, and possibly a nightmare or three ...because, you know, this is deep-seated fear mongering and the end is nigh ...

This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.

For reptiles shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,

Without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good,

Traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;

Having a form of reptile godliness, but denying the power thereof ...

And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.

For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places, and there shall be a Labor government and a Labor budget, and idle chatter about a surplus ...

All these are the beginning of sorrows.

The forces are immense, terrifying, will you ever sleep again?

Meanwhile, there's rioting in the streets and violence everywhere and vulgar youffs are carrying on like pork chops ...

Here endeth the lesson or the climb, whatever you imagined you were doing ... when you might well have been going for a quiet stroll in the fading twilight, before it all ends in a lather of sweating "Neddisms" ...