In which the pond shares Polonius's complete abjuring of virtue and the wretchedly virtuous ...

What a relief ... Polonius is back, and early this day at the top of the opinionistas ...

The pond is relieved in many ways, for Polonius, for the reptiles, and alas, selfishly, for itself ...

You see, the pond was given a right royal serve (we are all monarchists at the pond) for cherry-picking from the magic water man's screed on Polonius, when it should have unselfishly just presented the text, and allowed those interested to read as little or as much as they liked ...

The pond accepted the blame. It was a most grievous sin, something of a thought crime, and promised to do better.

So the pond planned to insert healthy, meaty magic water man chunks about the shadow between gobbets of Polonius, like so ...

Those that wanted to click on them to enlarge and have a read could do so.

Those impatient with ancient texts from the long forgotten magic water man could simply keep reading Polonius's current mission statement, which as it happens this day, is to monster those wicked Kiwis, always ruining the English language with their dreadful lingo, and always pretending they're better than Australia, when everyone knows they're not, they're just trans-Tasman dropkick losers, nah nah, sucks boo ...

Now that talk of the virtuous hints alarmingly at virtue signalling, but fair dibs, the rules say that a little sighting of Polonius means that the magic water man must also be given a place in the sun ...

 

In any case, to be fair, it has to be said that Polonius is absolutely without virtues and abhors the idea of virtue.

All these Xians jibber jabbering about virtues and being virtuous is not for Polonius, who is always willing to embrace his dark side. 

The pond has no idea where the notion of being virtuous came from. 

In the old days, in the westerns, it was always the baddies that wore the best Melbourne-black gear and had the flashiest double-handed draw, and these days it's female robots who know how to shoot up the humans ...

All the goodies, what a tedious bunch of bores they were.

There's nothing good about being virtuous, there's nothing good to be said about virtues, which is why every reptile has danced in the streets to have a multiple bankrupt, pussy-groping, thrice married fornicator and adulterer and adult porn star fucker at the head of the United States, and marvel at the way that fundmentalist Xians can suddenly discover that the ten commandments aren't a list of virtues to be followed by the virtuous ... they're easily disposed of with a mulligan ... in the same way that Polonius knocks the silly Kiwis for six ...

How easy would it have been for Polonius to do a Greg Hunt and head off to "virtue signalling" to discover an earlier sighting, back in June 2014? 

But that's the way it is with brazen thieves, and nobody is more brazen than James Bartholomew, but again, it's fair dibs time, and for anyone wanting a distraction, here's a little more magic water man ...

Now long-standing readers of Polonius will recall that Polonius positively hates, fears and loathes Cate Blanchett.

It's easy to understand why. She's attractive to many a man and she's successful - is there anything more problematic in a Polonial world than a successful, attractive woman, when the lot of most ordinary men is to live with a harridan? - but worst of all she's a do gooder, and remember, Polonius abhors do-gooding ... indeed, for anyone reading in tandem those magic water gobbets might note how easily he's drawn to the dark side and must pump up the volume in favour of harridans ...

But those not reading along in tandem will just have to enjoy the cat-calling at Cate ...

At this point, readers will recall the many headlines that Polonius attracted by generously turning several rooms in the Sydney Institute into temporary shelters for homeless and displaced persons.

Apparently he even offered it as a domicile to Assange and Wikileaks if a refugee from some shithole country couldn't be found.

Or maybe not. Hating virtue and virtue signalling as he does, Polonius has kept all news of this unparalleled generosity completely silent. Unlike Cate, he sees no reason to show off, and he leaves it to his late mother-in-law to be vulgarly virtuous in a public way ...

But fair dibs, that bit of Polonial bitterness and ankle-biting means another stop on the way for magic water man devotees ...

And so to the main Polonial game, because having a bile-filled snipe at Blanchett was merely a little detour, a jolly escapade, and it has come to the Polonial attention that the country is now being run by a woman who is clearly as bad as Blanchett ... and besides they still talk of fush and chups over there ...

Indeed, indeed, and let's face it, New Zealand has yet to run a successful gulag. 

They simply don't have the guts and the skills and the cash to splash in the faces of their Pacific neighbours and set up a gulag wherein any wandering refugee might be jailed without recourse ... such that in the end New Guinea's highest court decided it wasn't acceptable behaviour ...

But let none of that get in the road of Polonius deploring the virtuous, and celebrating the joys of being gulag keepers and Pacific bullies ... and with that, those wanting a distraction score another bit of magic water man musing ...

Not content with all this, once a Polonius is offended, the rule is, he must lash out in all directions, and especially at those bludgers across the Tasman with their high and mighty airs, a bunch of softies reliant on hard-nosed bullies of the Polonial kind, who spit on virtues and the virtuous as ponces and fools ...

Yes, there's nothing like a gulag to show how the virtuous suck, you silly Kiwis, and at this point, there's no doubt a few mug punters expecting another serve of the magic water man ...

After all, they've endured an extended gobbet of Polonius slagging off the Kiwis, so where's the reward?

Oh just harden the fuck up. The pond promises it will complete the magic water man text in the next Polonial issue, but the entire point of cheap-ass serialisation is to hook the mug punter, and keep them hanging around until the next chapter.

That's the way cliffhangers worked in the old days, and what's good enough for a Saturday matinee or a magazine is good enough for the pond ... 

There'll be more of spring-heel'd mechanical executioner Polonius, the terror of Sydney, just stay tuned ...

In which a jelly Oreo offers the chairman a fine tax ...

Many are called but few can be chosen on an Oreo Monday ... which is why the pond can merely nod, tip the hat, and acknowledge the ongoing fine work of our Gracie ...

... because the rich, always needy people, certainly need much more, and because we can never have enough income inequality ...

But fine effort though it is, the pond always remains true to the delights of an Oreo on a Monday ... see how there's a hint of Ozstralia in this fine line ...

And the point of the buttering up is made clearer in the google splash, wherein the Oreo talks of hapless "good publishers" copping it hard and doing it tough...

Who might those "good publishers" be? Do they have a solution for all the fake news doing the rounds, not least that scurrilous story about the president and the porn star showgirl? Oh shame on you, fake news WSJ ...

Answers a little later, first pucker up the mouth, salivate and launch into the Oreo of the day .... luckily for his many fans, with a Lobbecke at the top showing off a sinister puppet master ... like this ...

  

   

Sheesh, where did they all come from? How did that old visual metaphor turn up?

The pond apologises ... not only has the puppet-master broken or lost a few strings lately, he's sounding increasingly needy and desperate, and there's no excuse for getting in the way of Oreo and Lobbecke ...

Now the pond has no difficulties with any of this. The pond can certify that all of its news and opinion is one hundred per cent true to origin... the only pity is the origin ...

But what to do? Especially when the Oreo begins to peddle fake news herself ...

The pond doesn't usually feature Donald tweets, but it's important to bear this in mind when the Oreo begins to talk of Kremlin-linked trolls. 

Let's face it, that either means the Donald is barking mad and deep in the Kremlin pockets, or certain things actually happened. But who is the Oreo to question her Donald? Does she realise she might herself be in the grip of fake news madness?

Still, the pond has every confidence that the Oreo is building up to a sensible solution of an epic Murdochian kind ...

And there you go, the Murdochian solution, and so the pond had to hastily switch from a peanut butter Oreo to a jelly donut ...

Of course the Oreo doesn't go into who might draw a distinction between fake news, propaganda, Trump TV (once known as Fox), questionable and reliable publishers ...

The answer is self-evident. Rupert Murdoch is the only person alive able to draw a fine distinction between questionable and reliable publishers, and so others must be taxed so that Trump TV might continue to flourish, and the federal government might continue to advertise in the lizard Oz, in one of the greatest shakedowns currently doing the rounds...

Oh what a fine and worthy and noble suggestion it was, and how jelly donut of the Oreo to feature it this day ... and so must the pond too ...

Now here the pond must plead guilty. There is little doubt that it has regularly, nay routinely, featured contemptible, scurrilous news sources that are inherently unreliable, starting with the lizard Oz but also including tabloids of the Terror and HUN kind ...

After all, there are some more likely to trust a red bellied black snake than News Corp or Rupert Murdoch, starting with the notion that a tax on rivals might be dressed up in the gibberish lingo of a "carriage fee", but that's enough low comedy for the day ... 

Why only yesterday the pond might have suggested that anyone touting themselves as a "trusted publisher", especially a snake in the grass who gives snakes a good name, was "virtue-signalling", but Polonius has this day signalled that there should be an end to virtue-signalling 

More of that anon. Luckily, as the Donald has been mentioned, the pond is also obliged to mention a reliable news source, with David Rowe still to be found here ...

In which there's sugar, a dead mouse, petulant Peta and Akker Dakker ...

The pond was thinking of passing on petulant Peta this day - there's only so many reptile carry-ons about Oz day the pond can take, especially when someone like Peta bounces back from the hols, and thinks this is where things are at ...

But that poignant juxtaposition of petulant Peta and a mouse in the burger was irresistible ... and besides, petulant Peta couldn't lather up full-blown righteous indignation, and so kept her piece relatively short ... though her obsession with leftist obsessions showed an alarming degree of obsessiveness ...

Oh fuck, the love it or leave it carry on. Is that stale and beyond its dead mouse use-by date or what?

If anyone doesn't like a little diversity and difference of opinion, why don't they fuck off as well?

Never mind, that and the layout was about all petulant Peta had in the locker for her return ... but the pond did love the nightmare she conjured up ... worthy of the onion muncher himself, somewhat short of a knighthood or three this holiday season ...

Oh hand petulant Peta a gong ... she too has mentioned "virtue-signalling" and she kept it in reserve, so the pond might be kept in suspense, until she smashed the glass and unleashed the kraken ...

The full cartoon at the Graudian here ...

And speaking of dead mice in the burger, Akker Dakker was also in the Terror this day, whipping up a nice hand of fairy floss ...

Now before the pond gets going on its Sunday treat, the pond should remind any stray reader that Akker Dakker is the real deal, and knows everything there is to know about portly, though strangely the Terrorists decided not to run this shot of the sage one for the story...

By golly, he knows whereof he scribbles ...

Ah wait, there it is in the second par, "virtue-signalling". 

Good old Akker Dakker wasn't going to keep the pond in suspense, or do some sort of wicked mind-fuck, of course he was going to get virtue-signalling out of the way quickly, so we get on to what really matters ... expert research done for the Caterists, your dollar at work ...

But first another pond award ...

Now the pond had always thought that SSBs stood for Sons of Silly Bastards, but how little the pond knew, because the tough Caterists came down with all guns blazing, destroying all before them, to the great delight of the portly one ...

In the past, the pond has mocked Akker Dakker and made invidious comparisons to Billy Bunter ...

But let's face it, The Magnet mob had their hearts in the right place, and had an affinity with the Akker Dakker crew ...

Oh those screamingly funny suffragettes ... but the pond suddenly realised it might have failed in its task.

Did everyone catch that beguiling image buried in the Akker Dakker story? Did anyone feel the need to rush to the fridge and pour themselves a glass of sugar?

The pond is aware of all those hateful, hurtful images that litter the full to overflowing intertubes ...

Be reassured. Just as the odd cigarette never hurt anyone - just check all the scientific work done by tobacco companies - a little sugar never hurt anyone, and besides diabetes is one of the more fun illnesses ...

So feast your eyes again on that sweetly poured drink, and the scent of ice-chilled sugar waiting to give you a first class sugar hit ...

Why that's better than a coke ad ...

And around this point, those wretched women - possibly direct descendants of those screamingly funny Bunter women - really got Akker Dakker's goat ...

Remember, he is one of the world's greatest climate scientists, and mocking of the Minerals Council and climate denialism is one of the greatest crimes of the virtue-signallers, when everyone with half a brain knows it's either a UN or a Chinese conspiracy, or perhaps on a good day, both ...

Ah good old Brand-Miller. Strange, the pond remembers having been there before ...

Now if you were a Caterist, who would you pick to do impeccable research for you?

More at the wretched ABC here, but that's more than enough virtue-signalling for a Sunday ... 

Sheesh, soon enough the Christians will be blathering on in their Sunday rituals, sending signals about virtue ...while the pond would rather snack on cartoons, with more at The New Yorker here ...

In which the pond hands out a few reptile awards, before pensanting with our man Flinty ...

Given the high comedy of the likes of Hannity on Trump News - he didn't do it, maybe he did, oh look over there, a car crash - the pond has a deep and abiding pity for local reptiles.

How can they possibly match their American cousins?

But this being Sunday, and in lieu of a meditation, the pond would like to mention valiant local warriors who try to keep up in their own way ... including Bernard Salt, out of the gates on the weekend, with a spiffing reference to "virtue signalling" ...

The pond was particularly impressed that this mindless, moronic repetition of the reptiles, and therefore the pond's favourite phrase, and current endless talking point, should have sat beneath "have we always been so shallow?"

Salt's capacity for shallow - please, someone strangle him before he gets too deep - is beyond the valley of the superficial ...

And the pond would like to honour motoring correspondent Philip King for joining in the reptile baying at the moon about electric cars ...

It takes considerable skill to be part of the mindless reptile herd, and King proved to the judges that he's mastered the art ...

And there were other honourable mentions ... did the pond ever expect to see the Terror endorse the tax-evading king of poncedom, Bono?

Well done, Dannielle, so caring and discerning, and men will appreciate your lavish desire to please, and as a result, the pond can rest easy on this Sunday... now have you thought of a supportive piece along the lines "Elton John is right" ...?

And what about the reptiles who struggled to reassure local punters that the US was at the top of its game in its determination to take down Russia and China?

A watershed moment from Paul Maley, and how pleasing that everything the Donald has said about Vlad the journalist killer can now be safely ignored ...

Strange how the pond thought that the Donald thought Vlad was something of a whizz ...

But now after the entrée must come the meat, and the pond decided to look further afield, to see what was humming at the Speccie table.

What do you know,there was Cory, still basking himself in the sunshine at the success of his rock 'n roll coup, still a hot contender to return to the pond banner, and that battered old shoe, Mark Latham, had washed up on the shore, no doubt to deliver another bile-filled spray, but it was all for naught, because the pond only had eyes for our man Flint.

Flinty, who has a column titled "Aux bien pensants", as a way of establishing his ridgy didge dinkum cobber commonality with your local tradie crew, was in most robust and excellent form ... and he knew how to match it with Hannity and the rest of the mob, and displayed an intimate awareness of all that's best in Trump TV ...

Now all this is merely the fluffing of feathers, and our Flinty's display of his mental finery, a mere mapping out of the terrain, and a way of establishing his keen capacity for stunning insights and analysis ...

There's little doubt in this opening flurry that Flinty has established that the media consists of knaves and fools, and that Flinty himself is one of the few  repositories of real truth ...and with that established, the campaign to expose the fake news can begin ...

Our man Flint, with his usual scintillating wit, raises a whole host of issues here, from Stormy weather to massive voter fraud, to distracting Alex, to the wiretapping, now universally reported as having occurred ...

The pond isn't quite sure the point our man Flinty is making about the Stormy weather, except it seems that it's alleged ... but then the pond always knew that the WSJ was a fake news outlet, owned by a fake news mogul of the worst kind ...

As for the wire-tapping, the pond immediately googled this universal reporting, and sadly came up with old, stale, tepid news, of the Newsweek kind. 

Did the pond ever expect to be quoting Newsweek? Well did the pond ever expect to see Bono hailed as being right (oh thank you Dannielle, thank you once again from the bottom of the pond's heart) ...

This was back in September 2017 last year, here, but the pond was filled with awe at Flinty's tremendous ability to ferret through Tucker and Hannity and the like and retrieve a few rotting fishheads and feed them to the squawking gulls ... while making light of the Stormy weather ...

Now Flinty is a little behind the times in  some of his other talking points. 

He doesn't seem to have caught up on the deep state conspiracy, or the FBI's secret society, or the latest email scandal, but still, he does really solid work, and he shows he listens to the best that the opiate drug craze can produce ... our man Limbaugh ...

Has there been a better parrot than this? Even allowing for the parrot that did such splendid work in I, Tonya?

Sure, it's just stuff regurgitated from abroad,  a melange of half-baked and ill-assembled premasticated squid that a penguin might feed its chick, but that's Flinty showing how much he cares for the common folk, the pensant peasant, if you will ...

And in that spirit, the pond thought it should catch up with a recent TT, with a reminder that a new TT will shortly be found here ...