It being Our Henry day the pond thought it might open with a little troll.
Over the past few weeks the pond has been spending time with John Lurie and the three seasons of short shows he made for HBO during the plague years, Painting with John.
Lurie's something of a polymath in that he's a musician, an eclectic jazz-inclined composer, an 'outsider' painter and an actor that delivers personal anecdotes in an enjoyably hammy way.
The series isn't epic in any way. Lurie paints, and as well as the anecdotes, does attempt some slapstick interruptions, of a vaguely surreal kind (e.g., an animated cowboy romp positioned in his artwork), some of which work and some which struggle.
All are over quickly, as are the episodes, and throughout he's an amiable and likeable companion revealing something of his world (especially in the penultimate episode which showed him in the studio making the music for the series).
It turned out that the pond had other things in common with him, to quote from his wiki:
In December 2023, Lurie condemned Israel's actions in Gaza as a "genocide" and Israel's apartheid system, stating on Twitter, "Apparently it is bad for your career to say you are opposed to genocide. But fuck it. I am opposed to genocide. I am opposed to apartheid. I am opposed to children having limbs amputated without anesthesia. (sic) You absolute fucks."
The pond realises that this might sound as if the pond and Lurie are in the same turf as Megyn Kelly, Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens and Rand Paul's son, but commenting on the situation in Gaza (or the West Bank or Lebandon, as the slaughter and land grab continues there) is not to be anti-Semitic.
In his show, Lurie comes across as an amiable old hipster, something the pond aspires to be, though without a shred of artistic talent.
Alternatively the pond could have begun by trolling Our Henry with a Chairman Xi reference.
"Whether China and the United States can transcend the so-called Thucydides Trap and forge a new paradigm for engagement between major powers, whether we can work together to address global challenges and bring greater stability to the world, whether we can jointly create a brighter future for bilateral relations — these are questions of history, questions of the world, and questions of the people," he said. (ABC here)
The utter, shameless cheek. Referencing Western Civilisation (and not just the brass bands).
And which is the ascending and which the descending power? The one that had to beg for help in opening the strait and ending the war of choice it started? Or the other one, sending massive numbers of EVs into the world?
And did mad King Donald have the first clue as to what Xi was on about?
Crucially, was Our Henry ready to offer guidance on any of these matters this day?
The header: Anthony Albanese’s broken promises the death knell for public trust; Prime Minister’s abandonment of tax commitments risks devastating consequences for already fragile democratic fabric.
The caption for the gesticulating villain in chief: Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s reversal on tax policy risks undermining public trust in government. Picture: NewsWire / Martin Ollman
Dammit, the cunning sly old fox dodged and weaved, and stuck with the current reptile budget jihad, and so references to the ancient Greeks were out, with little else to hand for the five minute rant.
The reptiles seemed bored, and so offered Our Henry not a single visual distraction after that opening snap. (Perhaps the AI was feeling tired).
“Promises and pie-crust,” Jonathan Swift wrote in 1738, “are made to be broken.” Vladimir Lenin, who liked the line, treated it as a slogan. Anthony Albanese treats it as a principle.
The Prime Minister’s defence for repudiating assurances he had insistently reiterated – indeed, “for the 50th time” – is that Australia faces a crisis of intergenerational equity. But as Jonathan Pincus and I demonstrated on these pages, the claim is analytically incoherent and empirically threadbare. Nor, even if there were such inequities, would that justify the abrupt abandonment of repeatedly affirmed undertakings.
Serious governments seek democratic consent for contentious measures they had previously assured voters they would not introduce. John Howard did so with the GST: having ruled it out, he reversed openly, took it to the 1998 election, and proceeded only on the mandate he won there.
The reason the Albanese government has not followed suit is neither urgency nor necessity. It is fear: fear that despite the opposition’s parlous state, voters would punish a government that has spent freely, governed carelessly and is now poised to extract the greatest tax take in commonwealth history.
The budget’s own numbers make the reality plain. Even accepting Treasury’s assumptions, the budget measures will increase housing supply over the next decade by less than one-third of 1 per cent, while housing demand is likely to rise more than 15 times as quickly. This is not serious economic reform. It is a revenue grab wrapped in the language of moral urgency.
The inevitable result of that gap between political rhetoric and political practice is to corrode public trust. Trust, after all, is not a natural disposition; it is a social achievement, slowly accumulated and quickly squandered.
By this point in a very standard reptile jihad rant, some devotees of the hole in bucket man might be despairing.
Fear not, Our Henry lives in the past and still labours to produce the odd sublime medieval insight:
The credibility of promises is also more broadly crucial to the viability of a free society, whose very essence is that people must order their lives amid continual uncertainty. Promises, including the promise that laws will not be changed capriciously, are what give individuals, families and businesses stable ground on which to plan.
There came one more excellent reference, though sadly only twentieth century:
A young couple relying on an investment property to finance homeownership, a retiree dependent on hard-earned savings, a small business weighing expansion: all rely on governments meaning what they say.
But promises can only fulfil that stabilising role because they belong to the grammar of commitment: to the forms of obligation whose value lies in their relative insulation from changing convenience. A promise abandoned the moment it becomes burdensome is worth no more than the loyalty that melts away at the first sign of difficulty.
The preservation of credible public commitments is especially vital in Australia, where suspicion of the political process long predates contemporary disenchantment. Distrust of politicians was, as John Hirst emphasised, constitutive of the colonial polity itself. The men who entered politics were not thought fit to be trusted – and despite outstanding exceptions, many weren’t.
And let us not forget Burke!
The Australian mass party thus emerged, from the beginning, as an institutional response to distrust: a mechanism designed less to cultivate confidence in politicians than to contain the risks they posed once elected. And Australian voters learned to scrutinise the distance between promise and performance with an intensity rare in comparable democracies. When that gap widened too far, confidence collapsed.
It is against this background that the events of the past three years must be seen. The Albanese government’s record on the central tax promises of two successive elections – stage three, superannuation, and now negative gearing and the capital gains tax discount – does not just constitute a litany of broken commitments; it constitutes the accelerated dismantling of an already tarnished public asset.
The predictable effect is an even more accelerated crisis of political representation. The four-decade arc from 1975’s 4 per cent third-party vote to 2025’s 34 per cent highlights its seemingly inexorable progression.
Those voters who have spurned the major parties are not ideological partisans of any third force; they are observant citizens who, having grasped what the parties no longer deliver, exercise the only sanction the system leaves them. Unable to meaningfully demand or expect faithfulness to a program from parties whose programs have ceased to bind, they withdraw their own faithfulness from those parties altogether.
The alternatives may not be especially attractive nor particularly unifying – but negative coalitions, aimed at punishing a detested foe, form more easily than positive ones precisely because they require only shared aversion rather than common aspiration. In these conditions, anti-system parties flourish, their capacity to aggregate voters a symptom not of democratic renewal but of democratic exhaustion.
To make things worse, governments confronted by a perpetually seething electorate are naturally tempted to govern through stealth and administrative manoeuvre, further impairing the trust whose disappearance produced the crisis of representation in the first place. And when a real, rather than confected, emergency arrives, they discover they can no longer summon the loyalties and willingness to sacrifice on which the survival of free societies ultimately depends.
No society can govern itself for long on the assumption that public language is merely tactical. Governments that repeatedly break faith with the electorate may secure temporary advantages. But they do so by undermining the confidence that policies announced today will survive long enough to shape behaviour tomorrow. As that confidence erodes, both the effectiveness of public policy and force of democratic authority unravel.
That is the deeper significance of the Albanese government’s conduct. It is not merely bad policy. It is the depletion of a civic inheritance that free societies squander far more easily than they rebuild. Yes, promises can be cracked like pie crusts. But in the end, public trust cracks with them. Lenin, sheltered by brutal authoritarianism, never had to learn that lesson. With the fabric of our democracy rapidly fraying, it is high time Anthony Albanese did.
It's a great pity that this is the last time the pond will spend in Our Henry's company for some time.
That invocation of Lenin lacked subtlety and wit, and shows the old propagandist descending to the lowest level of Murdochian hackery, more Daily Terror or Currish Snail or HUN than Burkean trustee.
As for whether Burke betrayed his principles by defending both the American revolution and France's L'Ancien Régime, that'll have to be left to another day.
The pond will settle for the notion that anyone who thinks a politician won't break a promise if they feel the time is right is merely delusional. (And Our Henry has been showing signs of that for many a column).
And now having done the hard yards, the pond should show what the reptiles have been up to early this morning. Get ready to scroll:
Wall to interminable, endless wall ...
And oh dear, top of the reptile world ma, not another hideous uncredited (AI?) collage as the parrots got to work with the regurgitating lead (only the early version currently in the archive):
Sorry, that's as much as the pond could stand from the beefy boofhead in the reptile séance session, but kudos to yet another Jimbo discovering this terrifying fear and shock and horror moment:
‘This is a death duty by any other name’: Shock tax buried in Budget small print
On the back of the clampdown on family trusts, popular ‘testamentary discretionary trusts’ are a surprise inclusion in Jim Chalmers’ budget.
By James Kirby
How the jihadists love their hysteria. What was it someone said about death and taxes?
And the pond will always give a mention to Geoff chambering his inexhaustible supply of rounds, for those who can waive their sense of existential boredom and give him a read:
Coalition’s fork-in-the-road moment
Angus Taylor puts up biggest income tax reform proposal in a generation
The Opposition Leader will need to be well-briefed and prepared for the avalanche of misinformation coming his way.
Ditto the bouffant one, a devout and devoted cheerleader, andalways up for the jihad (though like many Australian men, he seems to have problems getting past the two minute mark. Only two minutes for the best two days ever?):
Angus Taylor has delivered his strongest parliamentary performance since the election after Anthony Albanese’s credibility crumbled over broken negative gearing promises.
By Dennis Shanahan
National Editor
And the canny Cranston was standing by to make up a triptych of jihadist reptile cheerleaders (though he too expired after two minutes. Only two minutes to celebrate the bluff of the year?):
Angus Taylor calls Jim Chalmers’ bluff with bold income tax indexation that helps young people
Angus Taylor is committing to fully removing bracket creep for the first time in 44 years and ending a regressive and massive tax burden on younger Australians.
By Matthew Cranston
Economics Correspondent
The hapless reptiles had a hard time flogging this horse, and in another place James Massola was asking questions: If Angus Taylor can’t thread this political needle, his fate might be all sewn up (*intermittent archive link)
For Angus Taylor, the gamble at the heart of his budget reply is that his thoroughly orthodox economic and political response in such unorthodox times may fall well short of what is needed to turn around Coalition fortunes. The challenge for Taylor is unprecedented: never before has a Coalition leader had to win back so much support from both Labor and One Nation. In trying to thread the needle to win back both sets of voters, he must risk satisfying no one. And he may only get one shot at it.
It's all got to be worth a Wilcox:
The pond is by this point well over the reptile budget jihad, especially as there is no indication of how long this baying of the hounds will last.
It feels interminable already, and so it was a relief to turn to the bromancer, doing what he's ostensibly paid to do, scribble a few notes on current affairs, though this day he could only last three minutes:
The header: Inside the Trump-Xi summit: How public praise masked a private power struggle; Trump came into this meeting wanting more, and needing more, and needing it more badly, than Xi did.
The caption for the snap showing Xi entertaining the visiting grandpa: Children hold Chinese and US flags, as US President Donald Trump, right, participates in a welcome ceremony with Chinese President Xi Jinping at the Great Hall of the People in Beijing. Picture: AP
Sadly the bromancer wasn't up to the challenge of doing an Our Henry and referencing Xi referencing Thucydides, so the pond must stay in the dark on that score.
Instead the bromancer resorted to an opening animal metaphor, though if the pond was going to go bear, it would have joined the infallible Pope and gone Pooh:
Now on with the bears:
The Chinese stage-managed the love-in brilliantly. They know how to treat Trump. There was, of course, red carpet. But there were also ranks of little children waving flags and singing their welcomes to Trump. (Oddly, the Chinese state often deploys little children in large numbers in international diplomatic extravaganzas – hard to imagine a Western government getting away with it.)
There were ceremonial presidential inspections of troops, a stylised military march past. The anthems played. The two presidents stood side by side as the world looked on.
Trump loved it, and fully reciprocated every gesture. “Many people,” he said, “are viewing this as the greatest summit ever.”
Trump likes people who flatter him: “It’s an honour to be here and it’s an honour to be your (Xi’s) friend.”
More than that, Trump said to Xi: “I have such respect for China, for the job you’ve done. You’re a great leader. I say to everybody, you’re a great leader. Some people don’t like me to say it.”
The reptiles interrupted the meanderings of the sundowning sociopathic narcissist in chief with an AV distraction, featuring an impeccably framed image in the way that only the reptile AI can do: Yoni Bashan wraps up a busy day in Beijing where Trump is making his first state visit since 2017.
For reasons known only to himself - the Thucydides angle was surely a glittering prize for a devotee of Western Civilisation wanting a war with China by Xmas - the bromancer stuck with the wretched grizzly bear metaphor, when he could have turned to an Eric-inspired big game hunter metaphor:
For some reason, the bromancer seemed to think that the sundowning demented mad King Donald might get oversaturated by ego-stroking. If only ...
There’s a fundamental difference between the two men, of course. Trump is a democratically elected leader, Xi is a dictator. But the two grizzly bears, underneath the fur, are strangely alike. They flatter, and they threaten. They coo, and they condemn. They kiss you, then they smack you.
When the Trump-Xi meeting went private, and got serious, the first issue Xi raised was Taiwan.
We know this because the Chinese news agency, Xinhua, put it out while the meeting was still going. If the issue is managed well, Xi told Trump, the relationship between the US and China can be calm and wonderful, a sign to all the world of how great nations should relate to each other. If it’s handled badly, this could lead to disagreement and even conflict.
In the end, the bromancer didn't know what to say, and didn't say it particularly well:
Xi wants the US to water down its support for Taiwan. He also wants better access to hi-tech US semiconductors and long-lasting stability in the level of US tariffs on China.
Trump wants quite a lot more from Xi. Though he claims the US doesn’t need the help of any other nation in dealing with Iran, he dearly wants Beijing to use its influence in Tehran to push the mullahs towards a deal, any deal, some kind of deal with at least enough face-saving concessions that Trump can live with it.
He wants China to buy more US beef, soybeans and Boeing aircraft. Trump in fact wants a managed trade approach from both Beijing and Washington.
Trump desperately needs Chinese rare earths and critical minerals to replenish the weapons stocks the US has expended in such prodigious quantities in Iran. Since Beijing imposed a temporary ban on the export of rare earths and critical minerals to the US, Trump has gone easy on trade threats and bluster aimed at Beijing.
Trump is also, rather bizarrely, seeking $US1 trillion ($1.38 trillion) of investments by China in US manufacturing. He’s also said he wants China to be more open to US investment. Forget about decoupling. What does this mean for on-shoring, or friend-shoring, for national security-related production?
Trump came into this meeting wanting more, needing more, and needing it more badly, than Xi did.
It’s hard to know, therefore, whether anything substantial comes out of the summit. Certainly there’s less tension, for the moment at least, between the two presidents, even if the underlying interests of their respective nations remain deeply at odds.