Monday, June 24, 2013

Forget any talk of the north, have another sip of kool-aid and Greg Melleuish ...



The pond is the essence of patience, and so it's waiting ... waiting ... waiting ...

For an in-depth analysis of Tony Abbott's "head north pilgrims" policy adventure which landed with a resounding thud of disinterest only a few days ago ...

Better keep cultivating that patience ...

Top of the digital whirl of doom today at l'Age?

Say what?

Make that man leader at once ...

Oh wait, the review is just a leak from the other side, as you can read in Rudd to blame for Labor disaster, says Gillard poll review, and is just part of the most excellent destabilisation campaign being conducted by the "squirrel" media.

Other contributors? Well why not drag out a woman to toe l'Age's editorial line, and scribble Make a graceful exit, PM, while you still can, with the poignant sub-header Your going wouldn't, in itself, set back the cause of women.

You can tell you're off in l'Age squirrel la la land by the notion that Gillard could at this point make a graceful exit, and there'd be no blood on the floor.

As for Kaye Darveniza, a Labor MP in the Victorian government, no doubt she means well, but it turns out that she offers as much help and guidance as that prime doofus Peter Beattie suggesting that Bob Hawke should be disinterred and become the peace maker between the warring parties.

Meanwhile, the real flavour of the paper, the tone setter, the "editor's pick" so to speak, swans in from Sydney to mount yet another generally grumpy assault.


Yes that's the real tone and flavour of the reprehensible rag.

Fine company for Kaye Darveniza to keep ...

As for that profound, in depth assessment of Tony Abbott's "head north pilgrims", with Gina as our patron? In your dreams, pilgrims ...

Naturally you won't find any discussion by the reptiles at the lizard Oz. They're still baying for blood, ferreting through the entrails, casting the runes, in a way so predictable it's as tedious to go o'er as it is to return ...

Which just leaves a tasty bon-bon for devotees of Monday nausea, and thankfully Greg Melleuish is on hand to deliver up Story didn't finish in 1975 (behind the paywall so you never have to care).

Now the pond is occasionally asked the meaning and origin of "Lickspittle", and it's obvious enough that it means abject toady or sycophant, and some sources date its first use to 1741, an honourable lineage though perhaps not as lengthy as lackey, which dates from the 1520s and comes from the middle French laquais, meaning footsoldier, footman, servant. It was only in the 1930s that its use as a term of abuse by communists came to stand for "servile follower".

Just as "lickspittle" or "lick-spittle" came into its own in the days of the Red Guard, routinely denouncing people as imperialist dogs, lick-spittle capitalists, lackeys of the USA, betrayers of the people and so forth and etc.

The pond isn't sure how these words came to attract Chinese and Korean communists so much, but they often turn up in company with running dog, which is apparently to say zǒu gǒu 走狗, or lackey or lapdog.

Still, they're more attractive than other western terms of abuse, such as ass kisser, since really, what's wrong with kissing arse? Unless you happen to be an angry Sydney Anglican ...

And what's wrong with being a "yes man" or "yes woman", since the alternative is to be a Tony Abbott in the grip of nattering negativity ...

But with this sort of history, perhaps it's a little kinder to talk of kool-aid drinkers, since that only references the drinking of kool-aid at the Jonestown massacre ...

Never mind, however you cut it, no doubt you want an example, and that's where Greg Melleuish delivers the bon-bon, because he opens his piece this way:

The well-deserved success of Nick Cater's The Lucky Culture raises an important question about historical writing about Australia. 
Recently we have also had George Megalogenis's The Australian Moment and Paul Kelly's The March of Patriots. It appears that our contemporary history is being written by journalists from The Australian!

Oh yes! Well-played. What a first class example of ... (insert preferred term here).

It's the use of the exclamation mark for emphasis - The Australian! - which beguiles the pond, conjuring as it does the difference between kool-aid and kool-aid!

And that's about it, because the rest of Melleuish's piece is a thought free zone, though it does also end with another resounding bit of kool-aid! drinking:

Cater, Megalogenis and Kelly have done a sterling job in keeping the study of contemporary Australian history alive. But surely the time has come for academic historians to cast away their old prejudices and enter the 21st century.

Sterling job! First class! Top notch! Oh pick me, pick me ...

And why are these bloody historians obsessed with the past? Always yammering on about long forgotten completely useless events. Like the leadership speculation in 1940 ...

Don't they know they should be writing the history of 2024 right now?!

Along the way, Melleuish gives us an idea of his simple-minded approach to history, which is to seize on dates, as a kind of symbolism. He blathers on  about 1963, then belabours 1975, and finally settles on 1983:

...a new Australia came into being, quite different from the old one. If it has a symbolic birth date, it is 1983 and the Hawke and Keating reforms.

Yes, it's that level of fatuousness, along with the notion that there needs to be competing stories about the past fifty years, as if there aren't any already plenty of them out there ...

As a clarion call to arms for historians, it's about as resounding and exciting as the sound of a one-armed Zen buddhist monk clapping somewhere in a silent forest ... can anybody hear?

So what's it really all about?

Well right at the bottom there's a mention of Melleuish's new book, in which he tries to do a Cater ... and did we mention that it's published by Connor Court?

Indeed. Nothing like sucking up while trying to draw attention to yourself ...

Meanwhile, where's Melleuish when it comes to looking at the mythologies of the northern food bowl, which has a long and splendid history?

Right at this moment this history needs to be dusted off, brushed up, and led out into the light of day ...

A history full of moonshine and delusions that was added to recently by kool-aid swilling Andrew Robb in Food bowl within reach (paywall affected).

Well if you want useful history and discussion, forget Melleuish, forget the mainstream media, forget the squirrels, forget the current idle chatter about leadership, and head off to The Conversation back in March, The only way is up? The northern Australian food bowl fantasy, which contains handy links, perhaps the most handy one to a short history of land use in northern Australia, in pdf form here.

Allow the pond to borrow a few key points:

1. Outside of eastern coastal Queensland, cropping has largely failed to establish in northern Australia despite many pioneering efforts and a long history of government subsidisation and agricultural research. Northern Australian history has many examples of failed agricultural developments that typically relied on profits from tax concessions and increasing land and share values rather than sale of agricultural products. 
2. Arable soils have been scarce in northern Australia and have not occurred in extensive contiguous areas. The arable soils themselves are typically of low fertility, low water holding capacity, highly erodible and prone to surface crusting. The climate is harsh with fluctuations between the wet and dry seasons causing numerous agronomic difficulties. 
3. Much of the motivation to develop agriculture in the north has been driven by pressures external to the region, and particularly by the defence imperative. For most of the past century, Indigenous interests, long term sustainability, economic viability, and environmental and ecological consequences of northern agricultural development have been ignored by researchers. 
4. In the absence of successful pioneering efforts at agricultural development, agronomic science was relied upon to lead the way for farmers. Despite many decades of intensive effort, it largely failed to achieve its goals. 
5. For northern Australia to meet the competing demands of society, food security, climate change and development pressure it will require research that is better able to integrate the agronomic, environmental and social sciences, with particular emphasis on economics and governance.

Amazingly, while writing this history, Garry Cook takes the story up to 2005, thereby confounding Greg Melleuish who seems to think it's all about 1983, though only the long absent god knows why...

Now is there any chance that the mainstream media will begin a major discussion of the new northern policy promoted by Abbott? Thus far not costed, not driven by markets, bearing no signs of any consideration of pragmatic policies ... thus far showing all the substance of fairy floss or gossamer, and with way less substance than the much reviled NBN.

Fat chance.

Squirrel.

Not to worry, with a bit of luck and a good wind, and due course and thanks to leader Abbott, we can make life hell for New Zealanders, in the way that Indonesia has been making life difficult for Singaporeans these past few days ...

(Below: the good old days, found here at the Batchelor museum).


Sunday, June 23, 2013

With god on your side ...

(Above: now where did we leave that bible?)


The pond has been taking a spell from the meanderings of religious loonery ...

And why not? What's the point of spending Sunday brooding about Cardinal Pell trying to loop the loop with statistics in his column for the Sunday Terror,  as you can read in Catholics.

Or trying to fix the Curia in Rome for that matter ... or work out what to do with an institution that has ruined so many lives in Australia and elsewhere ...

Pell somehow thinks that "devoted secularists" should be unhappy at the way Catholics are on the march and on the move and growing (try telling that to the number of priests serving the flock in Australia), and that somehow it's good that any growth in any religion is something that will stick it to the secularists:

No one is too surprised that the Muslim population in Australia has increased by almost 70 per cent in ten years to 476,000 in 2011. Overall the percentage is still low at 2.2 per cent, but the Muslim population in Australia is probably their fastest growing national group in the Western world, coming as they do from different nations reaching from Turkey to Fiji.

Uh huh. Now that's how you skew the stats.

Start with a low base, and then you can flash 70% at the world. Just remember that if you start with one and add one, why you've done even better, with a 100% growth rate.

Never mind, the point should surely be that Catholics should be the ones terrified by the growth in Islamics, and not the average "devout secularist".

You see, these infidels, these heretics, these unbelievers are an outrage, an affront to everything a devout Catholic believes, and are destined for an eternity of hellfire.

Now go to it lads and lasses, let's bring back the crusades, and mount some holy wars ...

Oh wait ...

And what about this bit of fuzzy logic, emblematic of the Pellist legacy:

Unsurprisingly the number of regularly worshipping young Catholics is much reduced, but they are more orthodox than in 1996, except on the resurrection, where one in three believes in reincarnation!

Yes, Catholics are on the rise, except the young are much reduced, and they're much more orthodox, except they don't have the first clue what that orthodoxy means, and instead believe in reincarnation, the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus.

Does Pell have the first clue how telling this sort of anecdote produces gusts of laughter that sweep over the pond like a low bringing rain and cold over Sydney?

Pell's own grasp of the bible is a little dodgy, but that shouldn't come as a surprise. Catholics have never been big on reading the bible. It's usually reduced to tasty new testament gobbets in the mass, and the few that bother to read the old testament at length usually have an extremely ambivalent relationship with it.

Take this opening burst from Pell in his previous week's piece for the Sunday Terror, Anger:

"Don't get angry, get even" is a pagan, not a Christian saying.

Actually when it comes to the old testament, it proposed that you can get angry, and you can also get even.

While Matthew 5:38 abandoned the notion of an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, it was Leviticus 24:20 that led with the get even routine:

And he that killeth any man shall surely be put to death. And he that killeth a beast shall make it good; beast for beast. And if a man cause a blemish in his neighbour; as he hath done, so shall it be done to him; breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth: as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again. And he that killeth a beast, he shall restore it: and he that killeth a man, he shall be put to death.

Yes, once again your poor average humble pagan has been defamed.

Coincidentally around the same location, there's also some most excellent advice for owners of oxen:

If a man strikes the eye of his male or female slave, and destroys it, he shall let him go free on account of his eye And if he knocks out a tooth of his male or female slave, he shall let him go free on account of his tooth.
If an ox gores a man or a woman to death, the ox shall surely be stoned and its flesh shall not be eaten; but the owner of the ox shall go unpunished.
If, however, an ox was previously in the habit of goring and its owner has been warned, yet he does not confine it and it kills a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned and its owner also shall be put to death.
If a ransom is demanded of him, then he shall give for the redemption of his life whatever is demanded of him.
Whether it gores a son or a daughter, it shall be done to him according to the same rule.
If the ox gores a male or female slave, the owner shall give his or her master thirty shekels of silver, and the ox shall be stoned. 
If a man opens a pit, or digs a pit and does not cover it over, and an ox or a donkey falls into it, the owner of the pit shall make restitution; he shall give money to its owner, and the dead animal shall become his. 
If one man’s ox hurts another’s so that it dies, then they shall sell the live ox and divide its price equally; and also they shall divide the dead ox.
Or if it is known that the ox was previously in the habit of goring, yet its owner has not confined it, he shall surely pay ox for ox, and the dead animal shall become his.

Yes, it's completely useless nonsense, perhaps of interest to ox-owners or camel herders, and it shows one more time that god was inclined to micro-management.

Yet it's this sort of contradictory old testament guff that fuels much of the homophobia still going the rounds.

Typically, Pell in his piece has the cheek to have a go at pagans - while quoting a bunch of pagans, including Horace and Aristotle and Plutarch and the good old Stoics.

He barely gets around to mentioning the bible, and the old testament, and when he does it's over in a flash:

The Old Testament Scriptures speak frequently of God's anger and our good and merciful God, who gave us freedom, certainly has to put up with a lot of evil; wars, violence, abuse and trafficking of minors, drug running.

Actually the old testament was keen that people get angry and do a bloody sight worse than get even. Get furious and kill 'em all!

They attacked Midian just as the LORD had commanded Moses, and they killed all the men. All five of the Midianite kings – Evi, Rekem, Zur, Hur, and Reba – died in the battle. They also killed Balaam son of Beor with the sword. Then the Israelite army captured the Midianite women and children and seized their cattle and flocks and all their wealth as plunder. They burned all the towns and villages where the Midianites had lived. After they had gathered the plunder and captives, both people and animals, they brought them all to Moses and Eleazar the priest, and to the whole community of Israel, which was camped on the plains of Moab beside the Jordan River, across from Jericho. 
Moses, Eleazar the priest, and all the leaders of the people went to meet them outside the camp. But Moses was furious with all the military commanders who had returned from the battle. "Why have you let all the women live?" he demanded. "These are the very ones who followed Balaam's advice and caused the people of Israel to rebel against the LORD at Mount Peor. They are the ones who caused the plague to strike the LORD's people. Now kill all the boys and all the women who have slept with a man. Only the young girls who are virgins may live; you may keep them for yourselves.

And so on and so forth, and more here at the pond's favourite examination of the bible.

Kill, maim, pillage, loot, murder and rape. It's all okay if you've got god on your side ...

Which is no doubt why young people these days prefer to believe in reincarnation ...

If there is a god, She moves in most mysterious ways.

But sometimes there comes a season, there comes a time to put aside mayhem and allow a little time for celebration.

Yes the Sydney Anglicans have set aside their truly foolish front page idea for their website, and now if you google Sydney Anglicans, you get taken straight to their front news page, instead of to a story of pious redemption.

Slow learners, but at least they seem to be able to learn.

The pond would like to take a little credit, but it's way more likely that the hits they stopped getting helped them adjust.

And so the wheel has turned, back to where it began, and the pond, who pointed out the folly on a regular basis, is as righteous as any insufferably righteous Angry Sydney Anglican.

And now that the front page has again become the news page, what good news it carries, as the Jensenist heresy suffers a heavy blow (apologies to those who google the Jansenist heresy and end up somehow on these pages):

One last thing?

The pond is reminded of that Hollywood classic, Dude, Where's My Car:

Chinese Foooood Lady: And then? 
Jesse: No "and then"! 
Chinese Foooood Lady: And then! (and the rest of the "and then" routines at IMDB here)

Yep, that'll polish up a treat:

Jensen: One last thing.
The pond: No last thing, and especially no last thing in relation to the mal-treatment of the rights of gays and women ...

(Below: the pond refuses to play the Anglicans's Chinese food mind games).



You can't look back, you can never look back, unless you're the backward-looking at Fairfax ...

(Above: verily the most excellent David Pope is a genius, and you can find more Pope here, and what better way to spend a Sunday than meditating on a Pope?)

And so to a song:

Out on the road today 
I saw a deadhead sticker on a cadillac 
A little voice inside my head said: 
"Don't look back, you can never look back" 
I thought I knew what love was 
What did I know? 
Those days are gone forever 
I should just let them go but, 
I can see you 
Your brown skin shining in the sun 
You got the top pulled down 
Radio on baby 
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong 
After the boys of summer have gone 
I can see you 
Your brown skin shining in the sun 
You got your hair slicked back and those 
Wayfarers on, baby 
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong 
After the boys of summer, have gone

Now if you move in the wrong crowd - which is to say actual loons who can remember the hits of  George Orwell's 1984 - you can get yourself into a fierce argument as to whether The Boys of Summer owes its success to Don Henley or to the guitar work of Mike Campbell.

You have to think that the editor of The Age would plump for Campbell, because clearly he doesn't have the first fucking clue as to what the lyrics might mean.

Yes, the pond is late arriving at the scene of yet another Fairfax accident:


Oh baby, don't look back, you can never look back, those days are gone forever.

What was most astonishing about The Age's ill-considered, pathetic intervention, by way of front page editorial For the sake of the nation, Ms Gillard should stand aside?

Well it wasn't the notion that Gillard should stand aside - that's a reasonable enough proposition.

No, it was the proposal that she should stand aside for the egomaniacal, verging on sociopathic, self-regarding, self-serving, white-anting, deviant, leaking, completely vengeful former Chairman Rudd, surrounded as he is by fearful second rate hacks fearful and clutching at straws in the hope of survival.

What's most astonishing is the logic embalmed in the thought processes of editor-in-chief Andrew Holden:

Our fear is that if there is no change in Labor leadership before the September 14 election, voters will be denied a proper contest of ideas and policies - and that would be a travesty for the democratic process.

The irony is of course that former Chairman Rudd is, and has been for some time, a vacuum-trapped policy free bit of bubble wrap, and completely free of policies, and utterly uninterested in the contest of ideas, except the one that he's fixated on: "regardez-moi, regardez-moi", and perhaps "Je suis le roi soleil, Je suis le roi soleil".

What's even more bizarre is The Age's optimistic, delusionary notion that the return of Rudd would ensure a vigorous period in opposition:

Outright control of both houses may be delivered to the Coalition and, more importantly for our democracy, the opportunity for Labor to present a vigorous opposition in Parliament would be diminished.

But if Rudd were to return, he would preside over a profoundly, bitterly divided group, aware that it was Rudd's white-anting and leaking that made the run up to 2010 so hard, and aware that in the past two years he has played the spoiler in a way that has given Tony Abbott a free kick every day of the week.

What's more, many of Rudd's policies have been over-turned over the past few years, and some of them will find it hard to make a come-back.  For example, we've seen Gillard turning John Howard on the matter of boat people -  but even this hasn't stopped Tony Abbott from running with the notion that he'll be able to turn the boats back to Indonesia, and Indonesia won't mind.

And Abbott hasn't done it alone. Don't look to Fairfax for a stern examination of Abbott's policies.

Instead the Fairfax media, and its poll-driven reporting - especially the likes of Peter Hartcher - have helped former Chairman Rudd smirk and smile his way into the public eye, with nary a thought of what he might actually want or manage to do when it comes to a re-invigoration of Labor party policies.

And this is why, in part, Gillard is in a such a precarious situation.

The Age's editorial, de-stabilsing front page all-out assault and all, is just another part of that process.

What's even more astonishing is this - yes the pond kept reading the editorial with an increasing sense of bemused astonishment:

As it stands, the Coalition is being given a free run by a Labor Party which is tormented by its own frailties; too many of the Coalition's proposed policies, some little more than slogans, are sliding through. 

Let's just re-word that a little:

As it stands, the Coalition is being given a free run by a Fairfax media pack which is fascinated by personalities and by Rudd v Gillard, and whose coverage is about as deep as a stagnant, mosquito-infested pool of swamp water; too many of the Coalition's proposed policies, some little more than slogans, are sliding through

Yes, there you have it, in black and white, a newspaper acknowledging that it is completely incapable of ruthlessly examining proposed policies, and instead is allowing mere slogans to slide on through.

As an example and proof, look no further than the evidence that David Pope is one of the few to have provided a trenchant critique of the stupidities inherent in Abbott's 'head north pilgrims' routine.

If the Labor party isn't up to the job, what on earth is preventing Fairfax from being up to the job? Doesn't Fairfax pride itself on its stern understanding of policies?

No, what the mug punter readers got instead was a pathetic defence of the editorial, in Age editor-in-chief defends editorial, which explained that it was in reality a knee-jerk reaction fo a recent Nielsen poll.

A bloody poll! And then came this:

Mr Holden said the editorial would have no bearing on how the paper's reporters would cover the election or the Prime Minister. 
"We will be fair and we'll be accurate," he said. 
"If Ms Gillard remains as prime minister up to the election campaign we'll give her the sort of coverage she's entitled to and we will continue to report the policy argument."

Now never mind Gillard, she might or might not be around, let's see how the rag reported the policy argument in relation to what Tony Abbott contended was a major policy statement in relation to the development of the northern parts of Australia.

Go on, scan the rag for its in-depth analysis and reporting of the policy argument.

What do do you find?

Well at the top of the digital page, there's a story about how Abbott's carbon tax mantra has been blunted ... by reference to another poll.

And Tim Colebatch produces It's north versus south in Abbott's vision for a food bowl, but it's remarkably short, and lacking in detail, considering there's already a number of significant and lengthy reports on the table that undermine Abbott's vision. (here you go, start with the northern Australian sustainable yields project).

And what do we get from Peter Hartcher, regularly given space in The Age as part of its shrinking heritage? Yep, yet another dose of Gillard v Rudd, heavily balanced towards Rudd, in Political vanity personal pride.

The sort of entrails-ferreting, runes-reading scribbling that Fairfax has indulged in for the past year, to the point where the pond has had no interest in reading or writing about what its pundits have to say.

Instead of this saturation coverage of the musings of a vengeful sociopathic sun king in exile, was it completely impossible for the Fairfax press to settle down, and give Abbott's northern policy a good going over?

Yes it was, and that's the tragedy of today's poll-driven, personality focussed, adolescent, spiteful, petty and gossipy Fairfax media.

Now the pond has no dog in this fight - neither major party will attract its vote - but it does have an interest in policy. Which is more than you can say for the hacks at Fairfax, who think it's okay to write an editorial about Labor's leadership, but can't drum up the internal fortitude or intelligence to tackle Abbott's wilful abuse of a northern dreaming head on. Instead the pilgrims are in their covered wagons and on their way ...

If only the pond still lived in Victoria, so we could refuse to buy the rag ...

What's that, fork out for a digital sub? In your dreams ...

Never mind, like most recent efforts by Fairfax, we could almost put its thoughts into a pop song, which is where we came in. Take it away Don:

Nobody on the road 
Nobody on the beach 
I feel it in the air 
The Ruddster's out of reach 
Empty pews, empty church door-stopper
The sun goes down alone 
I'm driving by your house 
Though I know you're not home 
But I can see you 
Your smirking smile shining in the sun 
You got your hair combed back and your 
Blue tie and suit on baby 
I can tell you Harcher's love for you will still be strong 
After Tony Abbott's boys of summer, have gone 
I never will forget those nights 
I wonder if it was a dream  
Remember how you made me crazy 
Remember how I made you scream 

(Oh chairman Rudd to it to me, do it,
Only 55 and he knows how to nasty)

Now I don't understand 
What happened to the caucus love 
But babe I'm gonna get it back for you  
I'm gonna show you what I'm made of 
I can see you 
Your blue tie and sharp suit shining in the sun 
I see you walking real slow 
Smiling at everyone 
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong 
After the boys of caucus have gone

(Below: take away cartoonists like Tandberg and there's sfa left at Fairfax worth a look)



Saturday, June 22, 2013

From a useful life to grand visions of the north, just another day of bird and Abbott-watching at the pond ...



This morning the pond would like to spend a few moments and words remembering and celebrating a useful life.

It turns out that the pond has hundreds of pictures by Jeffrey Smart.

Well not exactly by Jeffrey Smart, but in the style or manner of Mr. Smart, and photographs rather than oil paintings.

But you catch the drift. For years the pond has had the habit, when in the right neighbourhood, Port Botany say, or Port Kembla or Newcastle, or on any freeway in the United States, or come to think of it, pretty much anywhere in a built-up urban world, of seeing a Jeffrey Smart composition and taking a photo of it, a little keepsake.

This is what makes a useful life. To give pleasure and a way of seeing to others is no small feat.

Now Smart took awhile to come to his way of seeing things - his early work can be awkward and sombre, and it's true he would explain this by way of reference to Adelaide - oh Adelaide, Adelaide, the pond has spilled wine at the foot of Colonel Light's statue - and it's also true that when he hit on his signature style, he never deviated, never bowed to fashion or trends, just kept on painting pictures, of a representational kind. Oh the horror ...

And it's equally true that there are others who have ways of seeing that appeal.

The pond could get caught up for hours arguing whether a scene was truly Smartish or Hopperish:


(Naturally a voice over the pond's shoulder insisted this work was definitely Hopperish).

And it's also true that the pond can never look at a wheat field without thinking of the Andrew Wyeth that is a signature picture at the MoMA:


Okay, it doesn't look much like Bective East, and you'd have a hard time following a good line on the harvester, but still, it brings a shudder of delight, this way of seeing.

Which brings us back to Jeffrey Smart. So much pleasure he gave to the pond and others, and he kept at it for such a long time, as when we caught his last collection at the Australian Galleries. Prices too rich for the pond - let's not talk about the exploitation of ways of seeing, or the way prices for Smarts will soar and slump and soar - but we still have the chance of a Sunday drive to Port Botany to check out all those Jeffrey Smarts ...

Incidentally it was well known that Smart was gay and in a committed relationship.

This doesn't have much to do with anything, but coincidentally, because the news broke about the same time, it leads the pond to contemplate useless, destructive, negative lives.

Yes, at the moment Smart was dying after a useful productive life, Exodus International was closing down, as you can read in the LA Times in 'Gay cure' ministry Exodus International to close.

"I am sorry that some of you spent years working through the shame and guilt you felt when your attractions didn't change," Chambers wrote in a statement on his website. "I am sorry that I ... failed to share publicly that the gay and lesbian people I know were every bit as capable of being amazing parents as the straight people that I know. I am sorry that I have communicated that you and your families are less than me and mine."

Indeed. And the pond is sorry that all that's on offer is "sorry".

Still, if your position in the market is eroding, why it's time to re-position yourself in the market, and carry on, as Exodus leader admits 'same-sex attraction,' urges talks with gays.

So where does this leave the vile Hillsong mob, and the bilious Gloria Jeans crowd, and assorted others, such as Willow Creek, and Compassion Australia and the Australian Christian Lobby, and lots of others intent on destructive negativity?

Who knows, and who cares, but rest assured that the pond would rather drink camel's piss than have a Gloria Jeans coffee.

And now after that brief detour, time to take a brief look at the loons today. Now you might think that Tony Abbott's splendid vision for the north would have been top of the page amongst the hacks at the lizard Oz.

But you were only saying that to tease the pond, weren't you.

Top of the digital page is, sob, sigh, Gillard v. Rudd, round 49, which is way longer than Joe Gans 42 round battle with Oscar "Battling" Nelson (oh go on wiki it).

And yes, there's yet another round of class warfare involving billionaire buffoon Clive Palmer, which looks like running on a daily basis until September:


Dear sweet long absent lord, there's so much distilled essence of hate in the kool aid they serve the hacks at the lizard Oz.

Only a year ago, Clive was a kindly donor to the Queensland Liberals and much put upon by that class warfarist Wayne Swan; now he's little short of the anti-Christ ...

Of course he was a buffoon all along, but now suddenly he's on the wrong side of the fence, and the Oz reptiles are lashing the billionaire with a fierce campaign of fear and loathing.

Will they ever shut up about him? Not likely. Once the raptors at the lizard Oz taste flesh, they go off like dinosaurs in a Spielberg movie ...

But back to Tony Abbott's northern vision. Long ago, in a town now far away, but still the centre of the known universe, the pond can remember doing a project on the great town of Humpty Doo, and its new role providing rice to the world.

It was part of the grand Australian vision, after the second world war, to make the north productive and safe from the Asian hordes.

Naturally the pond, when given a job which took it all around the north - yes the pond has crossed and re-crossed the Berrimah line - one of the first port of calls was the great town of Humpty Doo, to check up on the rice plantations feeding the hordes of Asia, the paddy fields down under that would see the north safe from the invading hordes (hang on a second, what if they have a taste for rice?)

Anyhoo, let the wiki on Umpity Doo take up the story:

In 1954, after some experimentation by CSIRO and based on previous successful rice crops, a joint Australia-U.S. company called Territory Rice Ltd. was formed with a plan to irrigate the subcoastal plain of the Adelaide River in order to commercially produce rice. The plan was a complete failure due to several factors, including an invasion of geese, soil that was too saline and an insufficient amount of drainage, all combined with poor management. They gave up the land to the government in 1962. The Rice Project was 20 km east of the present town on part of the Humpty Doo Station where the name "Humpty Doo" was first used. The irrigation dam, called Fogg Dam, is still there and an attraction for bird watching. (here for more)

Bird watching! And so it was, and the pond had a fine old time doing a little bird watching before moving on to Arnhem Land and doing some lagoon watching.

Now your old northern hands will have a view about Tony Abbott's vision, and what might be done to expand horizons in the north, but the pond reckons Bernard Keane in Crikey just about said everything that needs to be said (here, may be paywall affected):

Today the visionary North Australia/Asia's Foodbowl/Turn The Rivers Inland policy vision made a visionary reappearance in newspapers; like many an Abbott policy, there'll be a white paper about it once in government -- Abbott will, in Brendan Nelson's words about Kevin Rudd, "hit the ground reviewing", but that's no bad thing. The unconstitutional tax bits have been dumped but the door left open to visionary tax incentives to relocate to sections of the country where there aren't any people or infrastructure, along with a vague but visionary commitment to move some public service departments north; the Long March of Bureaucrats from Canberra to Karratha envisaged in the visionary original, leaked version of this scheme early in the year has been replaced with a less ambitious but still somewhat visionary proposal to investigate whether there's bits of the APS that could shift. 
Hopefully Abbott's white paper process will investigate the less visionary option of doing nothing, on the basis that we won't need to shift Australia to the top end when, courtesy of climate change, the top end is coming toward us at a rate of knots. In fact, you'd just settle for the white paper addressing implications of climate change for the original top end. The Abbott vision is that northern Australia becomes a cornucopia of tourism, agriculture and mining, apparently unaware it's tricky to have even two of those together let alone all three, and climate change is hardly conducive to any. Just ask tourism operators on the Great Barrier Reef. 
In fact, this deep north stuff is downright weird. It's not just Tony Abbott's own big government DLP mindset emerging -- it's shared by Coalition MPs with functioning brains like Andrew Robb, the small government types at the IPA and far-Right miners like Gina Rinehart. It's straightforward, Whitlamesque regional development, complete with Whitlam government policies like moving public servants around. It's social and economic engineering on a huge scale; there's not a market mechanism in sight. Indeed, there's a utopian tone to the whole thing, not dissimilar to the early, funny socialist visions that were untainted by the nasty experience of the real world. It's as if the Right wants to create a new Australia, one free of all the bad things about the current one like pesky unions, well-paid workers and restrictive environmental regulation, a place where entrepreneurs, with just a little help from taxpayer handouts, some government spending on infrastructure where no one currently lives and a few indentured public servants, can breathe the (admittedly, rather humid) air of freedom and create a more efficient economy.

Yes indeed. It took the pond back to the grand days of Don Dunstan's Monarto (which became a zoo) and the later multi-function polis (which turned into nothing). Let's not even mention Gough and Albury-Wodonga ...

What's even more bizarre is that all this talk of nation building is not just DLP, but downright Chifley/Menzies/Curtin 1940s/1950s, with dams and farms (we need more wars so we can get more soldier settlers).

It is on a grand level, which is both deeply delusional and socialist government driven, in a way which might evoke the Snowy River Scheme but which also evokes William Lane leading his band off to a new utopian life in Paraguay (Lane later settled down to lead a sensible reactionary life in New Zealand).

It is, as Keane notes, deeply weird shit, all the more so when juxtaposed against Abbott's promise to deliver NBN broadband for a slightly cheaper price, with a significantly reduced capacity and quality of service, and with all that implies about Australia's chance of becoming a wired smart country.

Okay, so the country is going to be fucked over by monumental stupidity and silliness after September, and here's hoping the coalition gets a dose of decent consultants and advisors to hose down the fever.

Because that's what it is, a bizarre form of Gina Rinehart, Bob Katter - and yes, oh yes - Clive Palmer fever ...

There's the lizard Oz reptiles going after Clive, and there's Tony Abbott stealing Clive's policy and making it his own grand vision.

Deeply weird shit or what?

So is there an upside?

Why of course there is, because it gives the pond a chance to sign off in best NT News style.

Oh from a useful life, to a crocodile ...

So it goes, and such is life, but there you have it, take it away crockadoo at Humpty Doo:






Friday, June 21, 2013

The dance of the solstice, and why we're all XXXX'd in the end ...


So the old joke used to run, A Queenslander walked into a bar ...

Now it runs, Mal Meninga walked behind a bar. Boom, tish!

Damn you all, you wretched southerners, it's just another XXXX Gold opportunity to promote the joys of XXXX OLD, and you can all XXXX off.

Meanwhile, the class warfare continues on other fronts:


Yes, all the reptiles at the lizard Oz have turned Wayne Swan, and joined in the Bolter's war on the billionaire buffoon.

Apparently the Bolter was maintaining the rage last night:


Who can imagine listening to the Bolter?

Have you ever thought of just acquiring a Saturday night special and ending it all instead?

It would surely involve less suffering and pain.

Meanwhile, let's acknowledge that Clive might be a buffoon of the first water, but why the tag billionaire buffoon routinely deployed by the Bolter?

This is pure, unalloyed class warfare of the Wayne Swan kind, and an attack on all Queenslanders, except it goes without saying, Campbell Newman, who carries the plebeian title of premier buffoon in style ...

Let billionaire Queenslanders run wild and free, the pond says, and stop telling them to get XXXX'd to the gills, lest they saunter behind a bar ...

How else are we going to get candidates - PUPs you might call them - as eccentric as Cory Bernardi? Who can take it up to Cory getting rabid about beastiality?

Already there are howls of outrage from the powerful Satirists' Union at the way Bernardi is making life difficult for satirists (as you can read in Bernardi beats satirists to the punchline), so it's vital that Clive be allowed to assemble equally formidable candidates.

And with Terersa van Lieshout, Clive has made a jolly good start:

Clive Palmer has endorsed a devoutly religious Western Australian candidate for his political party on the same day he met her. 
The mining magnate had seen Teresa van Lieshout's many YouTube videos, covering a wide range of topics such as "Biblical Eschatology (Apocalyptic)'' and "Abolish Psychiatric Practice in WA'', but had not met her until a Palmer United Party (PUP) function in Perth today. (Perth Now, here).

Too much information!

It turns out that van Lieshout has her own Tripod page, which brought tears of nostalgia to the eyes of the pond. There's only a few things that work this way ... perhaps a Hotmail account, certainly a mention of CompuServe, the first way the pond connected to the digital world.

Tripod! Ah dreams of Lycos and Angelfire and the dot.com bubble. Those were the days ... those were the XXXXing days ...

Anyhoo, Teresa van Lieshout hangs out at http://teresavanlieshout.tripod.com/, and by golly it's everything the pond dreams of as a Tripod site (watch out for those jiggling advertisements).

And sure enough, if you head off to YouTube, van Lieshout has published some forty plus videos, including some on Biblical Eschatology (Apocalyptic). Frankly a minute at part 2, listening to the talk of the coming of the anti-Christ, and adding - it has to be said - a click to the substantial number of 119 views, was more than enough for the pond ...

It's refreshing to be reminded that barking mad fundamentalism lurks in every corner of the full to overflowing intertubes ... and not just in the mind of Cory Bernardi ...

What's astonishing however is that Palmer is alleged to have watched van Lieshout's YouTube videos, and still determined she was a suitable PUP candidate, and never mind that she had already founded the West Australian Party (yes it has a Tripod site here! Watch out for those jiggling advertisements).

It turns out that Ms van Lieshout's party had some 20 members in 2012 as she made her fourth failed bid for a parliamentary seat, any kind of seat, as you can read in the might Melville Times here.

Now it would be too unkind to note that van Lieshout is of Dutch parentage, as is the Bolter - what is it with the Dutch? - but it is fair to wonder why the Bolter is so obsessed with Palmer, and why he and the reptiles at the lizard Oz have embarked on their own version of class warfare, when this is the kind of candidate that Palmer is attracting ...

Second thoughts, scrub that. After all, Tony Abbott is right behind Cory Bernardi ... and the rough Brough as he slouches towards Canberra ...

But how did the pond end up straying into the world of the barking mad fundies?

Well because too much time at the lizard Oz can also send you barking mad.

As usual, the digital carousel of doom at the lizard Oz is full of the usual reptiles saying the usual things, and the top of the digital page is full of the usual sly innuendo, intent on bringing about the ascendancy of former Chairman Rudd, knowing full well that the Liberal party is ready to destroy Rudd by featuring negative comments from his Labor party colleagues, and by blaming him for the boats (and never mind that Abbott will hit a reef or two in his coming war with Indonesia).

Yes, it's as predictable as the day is short. Class clown for the day is the Sheridan, with this splash:


Okay, the pond gets that he's one-eyed, but wouldn't it be more discreet and polite for him to wear an eye-patch? Might even give him a roguish air ...

But it does serve as a note for that lizard Oz survey wondering why some former readers think the rag is XXXX'd.

You see, anyone other than a reptile at the lizard Oz might have talked about the dangers of Gillard and/or Abbott or Julie Bishop or a bunch of other pollies indulging in politicisation of the relationship with Indonesia, though even that is meaningless blather, given that whenever politicians relate to politicians, there's a political relationship ...

It's the childishness, the simple-minded, blatant nature of the dumbo Sheridan pitch that irritates the pond.

Speaking of childish, where would a day at the lizard Oz be without a bout of nattering negativity from Dennis "the tie and suit" Shanahan?

No, no, he's not talking about Abbott's rush to turn the north into the new frontier so it can get XXXX'd over ... he's talking about the rush to Gonski.

And then there's that left over apparatchik who routinely gets too bored by thinking about Swiss bank accounts, and so must express his devotion to former Chairman Rudd:


And that's part of the plat de résistance of today's rough Brough menu:


Bizarrely, if you want an alternative to this sort of idle EXCLUSIVE, you have to head north, to Dennis Atkins, fondly remembered by the pond in his Adelaide film-reviewing days for falling asleep during a film. (Now that's film criticism!)

Atkins indulges in a profound act of heresy in Unions prefer to deal with Tony Abbott-led government than a Kevin Rudd one ...

...Kevin Rudd despises most trade unions and those senior Right wing trade unionists who urged Gillard to move against him in 2010. People like Paul Howes from AWU, Tony Sheldon from the Transport Workers' Union and Joe de Bruyn from the Shoppies. 
He has made clear he would like to reduce their power in the decision-making forums of the ALP and at one stage he accused Howes and AWU elder Bill Ludwig of being thugs. 
This makes the idea that Shorten, whose future is dependent on the AWU, is talking to unions about moving away from Gillard as laughable as anything we've seen in Canberra. 
The rewriting of the Fair Work Act, which gives unions greater access to industrial sites, and the confected crackdown on 457 visa allocations are favours for the big unions. 
These unions know they are dancing with someone who will probably lose the election and lose it badly. However, they know that as bleak as it might be under a Tony Abbott government, it would probably be worse if Rudd was back in charge of Labor. Gillard and the unions are dancing to the end.

Laughable!?

Well who knows, but it's certain that we'll all be XXXX'd in the end, and might well end up wandering into the wrong part of the bar, and much credit will be due to the reptiles of the lizard Oz ...

And now since today is solstice day, begone dull care, and let's do an Isadora dance of joy, knowing we've saved money by refusing to subscribe to the furious rantings of the reptiles at the lizard Oz ...





Thursday, June 20, 2013

Yesterday, when class warfare and cutting and pasting were easy games for the Bolter to play ...



The pond has its Joycean moments, and this jocular piece, Cryptogams and the NSA - which has been doing the Facebook rounds - has its existential moments, as the author uses Finnegan's Wake to encrypt messages designed to tease and taunt the USA's spies. Well it tickled the pond's funny bone ...

The pond also has its Wordsworthian moments, and intimations of mortality, and splendour in the grass.

Was it only a few months - well under a year ago - that Clive Palmer was still able to say he was the major donor to the NLP in Queensland?

Then somehow it all went wrong, and by December 2012 Clive was thinking of resigning from the NLP because of his dissatisfaction with Campbell Newman, alleging along the way that the Deputy Premier and the Treasurer were the "biggest crooks to have occupied office". (as you can see here).

Back in the day, Clive was held up as a classic example of a victim of the class war (led by the Bruce Springsteen-loving Wayne Swan), an innocent hapless billionaire persecuted by the chattering classes.

Back in September 2012 you could find the Bolter channeling Paul Kelly - at length, because the Bolter is a magpie who builds his nest out of the words of others - under the header Labor, out of money, mounts a class war for more:

It fits into Wayne Swan’s projection of true Laborism by attacks on Clive Palmer, Gina Rinehart and Andrew Forrest for allegedly misusing their power and opposing his mining tax....


Oh those damn class war warriors.

Yes, Clive was a real warrior as you could read in March 2012 as the Bolter celebrated in Palmer messes with the carbon taxers' minds:

Millions of Australians would cheer: 
Mining billionaire Clive Palmer has escalated his campaign against the Gillard government, vowing to mount a High Court challenge to the carbon tax. 
As the major political parties wrestled over proposed cuts to company tax, Mr Palmer last night turned his sights to the carbon tax, telling the ABC’s 7.30 he had legal advice that it was unconstitutional. Asked on what grounds it was unconstitutional, Mr Palmer said: ‘’The grounds are set out in legal advice and they’ll be coming out in the High Court."

Oh yes, let's all give a hearty hurrah for valiant Clive.

Huzzah, huzzah ...

Back then the Bolter was chortling at the romp Clive had on the ABC, "most entertaining", but limiting himself - in a Calvinist way - to a single example, featuring Palmer snickering and sniggering about the way the Treasurer would turn from rooster to feather duster.

Oh Clive, you're an original, a one of a chortling, romping, entertaining kind.

But that was yesterday:

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though the PUPs are here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday.

You see, it's astonishing but true.

The Bolter is now conducting a relentless campaign of class warfare. In which poor Clive is denigrated for being a billionaire (or maybe not much of a billionaire and maybe not a billionaire for long).

Shocking, appalling!

In fact in paranoid circles it's whispered that at night looking in the mirror the Bolter sometimes seems suspiciously, eerily, weirdly like Wayne Swan. As if he's some kind of Dorian Gray, or perhaps an old school vampire ...

You see in the last month the Bolter the astonishing campaign against poor old Clive has become more and more virulent, more and more relentless, almost obsessive compulsive.

On the 1st June, the Bolter's header ran Clive Palmer, political menace, which opened with Clive Palmer is not just a buffoon, but a lazy buffoon.

Clive's lazy crime? Allegedly cutting and pasting a policy document.

This from a blogger who routinely cuts and pastes lots of things from everywhere.

In fact even this piece, this denunciation of Clive, was largely put together by doing cutting and pasting, including a cut and paste from Andrew Landeryou.

Lordy, lordy. Andrew Landeryou ...

On June 16 the Bolter cut and pasted a huge slab from Hedley Thomas. The Bolter's major contribution? The header Behind the picture of Clive Palmer, billionaire and a line and a half of intro.

Now there you go Clive, there's a role model for your cutting and pasting.

A couple of days ago, the Bolter stepped up to the plate again with Do not vote for Clive Palmer. We deserve better.

Naturally the bulk of the piece was a cut and paste. Naturally the words did down poor Clive.

And yesterday the Bolter was posting An important reason not to vote for Clive Palmer.

Naturally most of the post was a cut and paste, containing the seminal information that Clive Palmer's lawyers had issued proceedings against The Australian and two of its journalists, seeking about $800k in damages.

The Bolter felt so stirred, so furious that he even tapped out a tip:

My tip? This buffoon will not win a single seat in Parliament. And will turn out not to be as rich as many now think.

Indeed. And today the Bolter is outraged at the ABC, as he explains with a lengthy cut and paste of a transcript featuring Hedley Thomas, in About the ABC's defence of its pet billionaire.

Yes, in just over a year, Clive has gone from being a "most entertaining" romper on the ABC to the worst thing of all, a billionaire buffoon ABC pet.

The world is full of irony. But can there be a more remarkable exhibition of irony than that produced by the frothing, foaming, furiously scribbling Bolter? An unconscious ironist, perhaps, but a fine one all the same.

Yes, in just over a year, the Bolter has gone from sticking up for Clive and the other two big miners (Twiggy and Ginda) in pieces like Gillard's the loser in Australian class war (paywall affected) to routinely calling Clive a buffoon billionaire.

Enough's enough.

The pond demands an end to this class warfare.

The pond demands that the Bolter stop channeling Wayne Swan, and sounding like Julia Gillard. Or even worse, sounding like a sore loser caught up in an Australian class war.

The hilarity is killing the pond. It's like being held down in the playground and being tickled to death. Stop it, stop it, you're killing me ...

Oh heck, can we have just one more cut and paste? It's so Bolter to do a c an p, and lordy lordy it comes from the Bolter himself, scribbling furiously in Prime Minister Julia Gillard is in denial over the mining boom (paywall affected):

Swan accused Gina Rinehart, Clive Palmer and "Andrew Forrest, who wails about high company taxes" of using their "considerable wealth to oppose good public policy and economic reforms designed to benefit the majority". 
To punish them for their dissent, Swan and others in the Government unleashed class warfare - an extraordinarily punitive naming and shaming of "the greedy rich".

Yes, how pathetic, how feeble, how weak-kneed, how lacking in wit.

Swan should of course have called them billionaire buffoons and pets of the Bolter... or perhaps pets of the ABC.

Oh the bloody irony.

And so to a song. Okay, okay, it's not Finnegan's Wake, it's just a cut and paste singalong ...

Oh yesterday, Clive Palmer and his lawyers seemed so far away
Now it looks as though the PUPs are here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday

Suddenly I'm not half the class warfare warrior I used to be
There's a billionaire buffoon ABC pet hanging over me
Oh yesterday and PUP and the lawyers came suddenly

Why Clive had to go and leave Campbell Newman I don't know,  he wouldn't say
He just cut and pasted something wrong, now I long for yesterday

Yesterday, class warfare was such an easy game to play
Now we need a place to hide away 
From Clive's lawyers, who don't believe in yesterday

How he turned from victim to buffoon I don't know, I cannot say
Either he or I said something wrong, and now I long for yesterday

Yesterday class warfare was such an easy game to play
Now we need a place to hide away
That billionaire buffoon and ABC pet who seems here to stay...
With lawyers who love to play ...
Oh how can we just cut and paste yesterday ...


And now can we just briefly pause and acknowledge that the parrot turned in a pathetic flop and a failure. He really needs to go to the back of the bird cage, he really is a complete loser these days. The pond was at one point thinking of celebrating the folly, but as usual, the excellent David Pope has said all that needs to be said.

More Pope here, as the pond's love affair with this most excellent cartoonist continues.



Wednesday, June 19, 2013

The pond answers a few questions in a lizard Oz survey ...


It should go without saying that the pond is here to help - we just love to help, where did we put our special sociopathic cheesy grin? - but where to begin?

Let's start with that survey that popped up yesterday at the lizard Oz. You see, there was a plaintive plea by the reptiles at the lizard Oz, anxious to find out what the pond felt, and with a really simple survey designed to find out. One click and you were in, though some might feel they'd just booked into the Hotel California ...

Now the pond considers itself inclined to centrism, moderate, enjoyed a good education thanks to a public education system (after the Catholics were left behind), interested in good management (which doesn't happen to involve catching a VFT to Canberra to visit Sydney's second airport), in short one of those faint-hearted weak-kneed liberals (with a small "l") who shrink at the sight of violence.

Home in the inner west, a relatively stable relationship (well at least more stable than a thugby league footballer), interested in public transport, loves a good chardonnay, has a firm view on what makes a good coffee, thinks it's the right of others to share the quiet life of marriage  ...

Oh wait a second, that puts the pond one step away from beastiality and polyamory (thanks South Australians for Cory Bernardi)  ...

Oh wait a trice, that puts the pond in the Nick Cater playbook of evil intellectual elites wanting to ruin the country.

Does a stupid inane survey allow the capturing of that sort of stupid inanity?


So let's get this straight - now you want the pond to fill out a form - for free - to help fix a cocky cage lining rag that routinely demonises, denigrates, deplores and denounces the mild Lois Lane lifestyle of the pond?

Hasn't the pond already made clear how it finds your EXCLUSIVES, which turn up on your digital front page on a daily basis, comical and silly? Pathetic and tragic, and rarely exclusive, except for the many exclusives who dress up an ideological axe to grind as an exclusive, when really it's only an exclusive insight into the level of the kool aid in the water cooler that day ...

As an incentive to pay to click through, they're about as beguiling and as tempting as an offer to tour a town camp and laugh at the inhabitants ...

And what about that rotating whirlwind, that digital splash from hell at the top of the right hand page. 

Have you ever heard of the notion of familiarity breeding contempt?

Like this offering from Peter van Onselen today:


By golly, here's a thought. Why not do a Crikey, which offers a sizeable amount of contra and goodies to help persuade people to sign up?

Why not offer a year's supply (quite sizeable) of the special brand of kool-aid van Onselen drinks to help him get through the day scribbling nonsense for the lizard oz. 

The pond says this while recognising that the pond's disdain for van Onselen might only be a short-term emotion, though perhaps shared by a (sizeable) section of your shrinking readership ...

And while we're at it, how about that splash from Kevin Donnelly, the oh so predictable, regularly regurgitating, special pleading panderer to private and Catholic education. He inspired another thought:


How about a year's supply of wafers to go with a digital subscription? 

That'd fit in with the Shanahans, the Sheridans, and be a fitting memorial to the late Christopher Pearson, as well as a celebration of your pet Tony Abbott, and his favourite poodle, Cory Bernardi (thanks South Australians, no really, thanks a bloody million).

Now there's just one trouble with the wafers thing. We have a coeliac issue in the family. Can't abide the gluten in the wafer. Yes, I know, I know, it's such a first world Irish condition, like depression, a taste for drink and literature, but still ...

What's that you say? The pope says coeliacs can go to hell, not even stop at purgatory for a few thousand years with Christopher Pearson and, no doubt in due course, Angela Shanahan? Seems gluten is an integral part of the body of Christ?

Well if you believe that, you can believe the sanctimonious righteous tosh yesterday from Tony Abbott about parliament needing to be a better place, with people who can do better than that. 

Like Cory bloody Barnardi (thanks a heap South Australians, no really, thanks a squilliion).

So what can we suggest as a subscription offer for Dame Slap?


Yes, that's it. Throw in a year of the Small Government monthly, soon to be reduced to a quarterly and then perhaps only released yearly, and instead of all this jibber jabber about governments interfering in our lives by providing decent working public transport, everybody can read it while on a shank's pony ride to work.

Oh dear, someone is cynically whispering in the pond's ear, and the kool aid has only reached chin-level.

Surely the problem here is that the pond can read rabid, raging anti-government diatribes any day of the week from frothing and foaming Republicans in the United States.

Yes it's completely bizarre to have to go to the bother to google to read Step up and end the blame game, and read what starts out as an attack on individuals using the court system to a more generalised rant about government.

No, there's no discernible or immediate connection, apart from Dame Slap's relentless desire to slap government, quite similar to the desire of other reptiles at the lizard Oz, high on the in-house kool aid to slap the Labor party, the Greens, climate science, bicycle paths, gay marriage, public education, public transport, Fairfax, ABC viewers, community radio, inner city elites, intellectuals, lovers of poetry, chardonnay sippers and latte swillers ... and so on and on, all notionally part of your target audience, part of your potential demographic.

Feeling the heat is on now are we lizards of Oz? 

After the split, you actually have to start turning a profit and beguiling readers? Want to know what you could do better? What you could do different?

No, second thoughts, don't worry, just keep on publishing the rantings of a well-heeled, privileged member of your in-house elite about how everyone needs to step up to the plate and take responsibility

The human tendency to look immediately to others when something goes wrong is not helped by politicians who encourage us to believe that government can fix more and more of our problems. If we are fed on a constant drip of government intervention, we end up handing over to others ever more responsibility for our lives. Then, when things go wrong, we don't look inwards, we look outwards. The blame game is surely -- at least in part -- the flip side of too much government interference in our lives. 

Which is of course just pathetic, sanctimonious righteous blather, just another part of the blame game, though it surely has to be said that it's ingenious to blame government for the actions that individuals take in court.

Why that's taking the blame game up to top notch level. Which is what Dame Slap does week in, week out. She's always blaming someone, somebody, for something that doesn't feel right in her self-contented universe. Her blather about the blame game is about as meaningful as Piers Akerman pretending he's not part of the chattering classes.

On a rhetorical level, it's meaningless gibberish.

The pond thinks it quite reasonable to hand over responsibility for public transport to others (though how a man who thinks a second airport for Sydney should reside in Canberra got his hands on the wheel must remain a mystery, thanks NSW Right of the Labor party).

And also thinks it quite reasonable to support public education over the incessant wheedling and noise emanating from the likes of Kevin Donnelly, anxious to ensure that Scientologists and the Exclusive Brethren and other cults like the Catholic church can keep on sucking at the taxpayer's teat, not that you'll read anything about that in the tirades published in the lizard Oz.

But do go on blaming government in the blame game:

And to make matters worse, when those at the very top of society play the blame game, it's hardly surprising that others follow their lead. Take a very recent example. When will a member of the Gillard government fess up to their government's mistakes, take responsibility for the train wreck headed their way at the next election and go about fixing what has gone wrong? Blaming minority government or misogynist men or Kevin Rudd for your political woes is not the sign of a responsible government. It is little wonder that individual responsibility takes a back seat among the people when our leaders can't resist playing the blame game.

Indeed. So when things keep going wrong at the lizard Oz in terms of trying to turn a profit, having alienated a significant and sizeable portion of its potential demographic, by publishing right wing gibberish of a kind that makes the IPA gasp in admiration, please don't play the blame game if some people refuse to sign up.

After all, the disdain felt for your rag is only a short-term emotion felt by a (sizeable) section of your potential readership, and it'll be a cold day in hell, or perhaps a warmish one in purgatory, before the pond disturbs the red-backs in the purse to reward your relentless, monotonous, tedious Johnny one note contributors singing their Janet one note songs ...

Oh alas and alack, we see that we've now reached the end of your survey, and that pitiful question "Is there anything else you'd like us to know?" lurks right at the end ...

Well since you asked, your rag is crap, Chris Mitchell is a disgrace, your EXCLUSIVES are risible and pathetic, your attitude to climate science reporting shocking and shameless, and in due course will lead to tears, and your unwillingness to tackle the potty mouthings of Cory Bernardi and Mal Brough and such like, or crusade against their divisive shit-stirring both pathetic and malignant ...

And worst of all? Your gormless ideological crusades are replicated all over the web ...

For free ...

Go take a a cold shower, forget the surveys, and stop loading the kool aid into the office watercoolers ...

And there you have it. An EXCLUSIVE insight from the pond. And remember (fixes cheesy sociopathic grin) we're here to help ... call any time ...