Let's hear it for snap judgments ...

(Above: more Nicholson here)


The pond has taken to reading The Australian by its headlines, and forming a snap judgment.

Cue Paul Kelly:

Actually the march to this year's election looks long and difficult for the readers of The Australian, forced to suffer endless blather about the long and difficult march to the election, remembering that we still haven't reached March, we're still in bloody February.

Actually The Australian is crazed and demonic. One bad Newspoll sends tremors of bloodlust through the ranks of its commentariat.

Hang on a second, perhaps we should re-phrase that, because if you click on either of these splashes, you end up on the very same story. 

The Australian is damaged and weak. It can only afford within its ranks one bloviator to discuss the tremors of a Newspoll and then it makes it look as if the rag is full of the bloviating opinions of Paul Kelly by re-dressing the one story to suggest a multi-hued rainbow, a plethora of stories.

By golly, this could be fun. No need to actually read any of the articles and go into the usual frenzy, better to keep the frenzy on the surface, and avoid the all too predictable dance, with the all too predictable opinions, all skewed the one predictable way.

Let's see if it works for others:

Actually if anything can win this election for Labor, looking as we are at a September 14th poll (maybe) from a 6th February vantage point, it will be the ability of voters to absolutely ignore the dithering scribbles of old party hacks who routinely turn out for a rag that is responsible for more fear and loathing of Labor than any other rag in the country (and given the Bolter at the HUN that's saying something).

Oh there's a bloodlust forming here. Come on down Dennis "the tie" Shanahan:

Actually Julia Gillard is now facing the new challenge of what to do about Dennis Shanahan churning out the same old stuff about the Ruddster that he and the rag have been churning out since the day the Ruddster fell.

The trouble is of course that when she asks what to do about him and his chums, the answer is nothing, or perhaps to listen to yet another re-telling of the scorpion and the frog and how it's in their nature ...

But thus far we've kept this in the realm of Australian politics. Is it applicable to any kind of article? Yes, it is:

Actually the notion that Bjorn Lomborg is here to help shift our focus to the best and most effective way to help the world in relation to climate science surely must be a joke of the meta-kind, coming as it does amongst a blizzard, a gale, a torrent, an extreme weather event of climate denialist stories in the rag.

Is this the same Bjorn Lomborg who dubbed the greenhouse effect a myth, and then spent his time explaining how doing anything about it is completely useless, only to apparently change his mind, and now spend his time inventing new ways to do nothing, by attacking global warming alarmism and scare stories, and proposing only cost effective solutions where it seems the only solution is to avoid any costs?

Yes, it is, and what's more, in the usual way, The Australian has put up its gold bar fickle finger of fate over the story, with the header Pasta no more likely to disappear than polar bears, and the pond guesses that if polar bears survive in the zoo rather than the wild, then the header is literally true.

But most importantly why would anyone fork over hard cash when they can find the very same piece published back on January 11th on another site, for free - speaking of cost effective solutions to reader conundrums - under the simple header The End of Pasta?

That way you could get Lomborg's dissembling for free, and discover for free that Lomborg is a classic cherry picker, with the polar bears discussion a case in point.

Lomborg does the very same trick as his opponents do. Thus if someone has said the polar bears will be extinct by end of century, all Lomborg has to say is what's the fuss, they're still breeding. And pasta's still breeding too.

A middle path might be to look at the actual predicament of the current crop of bears, and see what the ramifications might be (as you can read here).

Does Lomborg ever wonder why The Australian is his natural home down under? And why they charge for opinions freely available on the full to overflowing intertubes?

But contemplating that conundrum does give the pond the inspiration and the courage to tackle the very font, the source, the acme, why the very Everest of abuse in the rag. Come on down:

Yes, and perhaps free speech batters (so unlucky, South Australians, not to have a fop as the leader of the Liberals).

But why does it have to be a humiliating backdown? Why not a considered, sensible response to sensible people making sensible points?

Why? Well because Janet "Dame Slap" Albrechtsen is big into hostility and hate and humiliation, and nothing will do unless she's ground an opponent into the ground so hard they become like the dirt around them.

What's remarkably funny is that Albrechtsen's piece is headed People power defeated Roxon's radical agenda, (behind the paywall so you can stick to vitriolic judgments of headlines and splashes), and then she produces sundry splendid examples of people power, including but not limited to media groups, including News Ltd, high court judges, a gaggle of potentates ... and the Institute of Public Affairs.

If that's people power, it's a funny notion of the people. Oh sure she mentions letter writers, clearly never having written a letter to anyone, and been ignored as yet another raving loon ranting on about something, safely ignored because you're outside the tent.

But there is a benefit beyond learning about Albrechtsen's curious definition of the people.

If you want an example of the curious fortification mentality at work in The Australian and other Murdoch rags, you couldn't get a better example in this Albrechtsen tirade.

If you read it properly, it seems only Rupert Murdoch and his minions stand up for the rights of ordinary Australians, while the ABC and Fairfax stand close to Satan.

It's such an absurd mis-reading, and offensive too, because the very same media groups she mentioned included Fairfax Media, SBS, West Australian Newspapers, the AAP, and radio and television groups. And Jim Spigelman, the ABC's chairman, probably made the biggest splash of all in his criticism of Roxon's efforts, late last year, which was widely reported at the time, and was probably the most effective intervention of all.

But the misrepresentation does allow Albrechtsen to be offensive in her usual way. After doing the usual stuff about the nanny state and abusing the ABC up hill and down dale - she needs to watch out, she's sounding more and more like Gerard Henderson - she ends it all with this:

It was a similar story at Fairfax, where only the usual loyal protectors of liberty exposed Roxon's draft law as an affront to free speech - stand up Paul Sheehan at The Sydney Morning Herald and the IPA's Chris Berg writing in The Age. While a few SMH editorials fought for freedom, there was barely a whisper of interest among journalists for whom free speech is, after all, a professional necessity.

Paul Sheehan as a loyal protector of liberty, as opposed to being a protector of magic water, and the quest for the perfect bread?

Chris Berg as a loyal protector of liberty, as opposed to being a prolific hack for a shadowy lobby group serving vested interests which refuses to divulge the sources of its funding, and the way its lobbying benefits its funders?

Ah well, the day the pond reads a devastating expose in The Australian, perhaps by the hand of Janet Albrechtsen, delivering a mighty slapping to the IPA, investigating its funding and its client base, and tracking back to the very heart of its power base, and demanding reasons why its spokespeople appear so regularly on the ABC, the people funded forum for the people, is the day that the pond will know that the polar bears of the Arctic can sleep soundly at night ...

Meanwhile doff your lid and dip your head and give thanks to the mighty commentariat at The Australian.

Is there nothing they can't do? Save the liberty of all Australians, sort out global warming, and yabber on endlessly about an election still off the over the horizon radar ...

(Below: the good news is that polar bears are on an endangered species list, but they aren't really endangered. They'll have plenty of pasta to eat).

And now for a cognitively dissonant walk amongst the political commentariat ...

The pond's never much liked the term 'cognitive dissonance', but sometimes it's the only way out.

As any wiki will tell you, here, we can blame the notion on Leon Festinger, back in 1956, seeking to explain the clash of reality which took place amongst UFO cultists as they came to an imagined impending apocalypse.

The phrase captured the feeling of discomfort that can occur when you hold a number of conflicting cognitions.

You couldn't want for a better display of cognitive dissonance than the examples on parade at the "all seats sold out, stop laughing in the back row" circus currently known as the ICAC inquiry into dodgy dealings in the NSW ALP (Not so fast, says Eddie, not my man).

And if you've been reading the abundant crop of political journalists sagely explaining how Julia Gillard cynically and successfully used the ploy of confirming the election date to secure her leadership, you might have some trouble reconciling this with the news that the Ruddster is on the march.

Yes, there it is, just below the reporting of the circus:

Is that some kind of record? 

From Gillard's cynical and successful ploy to prop up her leadership to Rudd's support for a challenge edging closer in just a couple of days? (but you have to suffer a forced video to read it).

Yep, there's Dennis 'the tie' Shanahan brooding about the leadership in the lizard Oz too:

It turns out that when you read it, Shanahan has actually got nothing to say - hence the absence of a link, since why waste everybody's time? - except that it's all Gillard's fault, and that she's going to sweat and sweat over the coming months, which just continues the same theme he announced a few days ago:

The pressure's off Abbott and back on Gillard at the beginning of the longest election campaign in history. (Pressure off Abbott as Gillard begins to sweat, behind the paywall so only the cognitively dissonant would bother).

That notion led the pond into its very own cognitive dissonance, induced when Crikey drew attention here to the return of Chris Mitchell:

Chris Mitchell insists The Australian won’t be treating the next eight-and-a-half months as an election campaign. It’s a stunt, the paper’s feisty editor said in his paper today, and “some of the nation’s other editors need to grow up”. On growing up, we couldn’t agree more.

Well he might have said it, or he might not, because when the pond followed the Crikey link, it led to a story, Broadcasters confused by legal status of eight month political campaign (behind the paywall to avoid suffering), and the only Mitchell mentioned was broadcaster Neil Mitchell.

Did Mitchell delete the reference to Mitchell and leave in the other Mitchell as a switcheroo, or did Crikey confuse the galah Mitchell with the parrot Mitchell? And which one is the Major Mitchell?

The result was an increase in chaos and confusion in the mind of the pond, and it didn't get any better. 

Today The Australian was carrying on, business as usual, reporting the eight month long political campaign in its usual exclusive way:

And what a lot of stories there were involving the political campaign (screen cap only, no hot links because the pond is worried stray readers might go blind).

It sounded like a frenzy of chaos and madness, and yet over at Crikey, Bernard Keane was insisting

...what’s the broader economic achievement of this “chaotic” minority government? Low inflation, low interest rates, low unemployment, a massive investment boom, a “safe haven” currency, growing labour productivity, a sharemarket up nearly 20% since a carbon price commenced. If this is the product of “chaos”, long may it continue. 
 “Chaos” and “disarray” are media judgements, right or wrong, about politics, not about real world outcomes. The more journalists view everything through an election campaign prism, the less interested they appear to become in real world outcomes. (Media coverage of Gillard election date)

Perhaps it isn't cognitive dissonance, perhaps it's a simple case of hysteria. Ongoing, endless nattering media hysteria, a kind of blather which begins to sound like muzak ...

But by this time, the pond had developed quite a taste for cognitive dissonance, and knew right where to find it, in that gigantic sticky honey pot which sometimes goes by the name of the prattling Polonius, and sometimes by the name Gerard  Henderson.

The pond faithfully sat through the excruciating tedium of Political success does not hinge on how popular you are, waiting for the zinger to land (and desperately avoiding the attached forced video).

Let;s cut to the chase. Tony Abbott is immensely popular, but popularity is meaningless.

That seemed to be the nub of it, but first there was endless guff about how successful Tony Abbott was as opposition leader, the best since Gough Whitlam, and never mind that Whitlam was well liked, and Abbott still continues to pong, like a fart in a very full express lift heading to the hundredth floor (the pond doesn't usually do fart references, but sometimes it's the only way to conjure up reality in a non-cognitive dissonant way).

Yes, it was just another trot down history lane to a blind alley of wilful misrepresentations, along with a demand that Abbott should be re-assessed by commentators and political operatives alike.

Here's how that was managed. Judge Gillard by the state of polling, and Abbott likewise, and ignore the peg over the nose donned by voters when it comes to the popularity of both of them.

Of course in these circumstances, Henderson needs a piñata. Usually it's someone in the ABC, but today David Marr gets the pounding for asserting that Australia does not want Tony Abbott, it never has.

Perhaps Marr should have said that many - perhaps most - Australians don't like Tony Abbott, never have and never will.

For those who remember politics beyond last week, there were his routine displays of boofhead attack dog assaults in the service of his master, John Howard, and his incompetence and partiality as a Minister, the reward for his verbal assaults.

And then there's been the subsequent routine displays of negativity on anything and everything proposed, no matter if the policies made any kind of sense.

Naturally Hendo won't hear any of this - because Abbott was almost elected last time around, except he wasn't - and before we get to taking a closer look at that sort of contradiction, he quickly wheels in another piñata, in the shape of Bruce Hawker for making the obvious point, that personally Abbott is on the nose with many voters.

While his personal popularity has risen, that continues to be the case, and here there must come an argument as to whether it's senility (which leads to constant repetition of the same point over and over again - did we mention over and over again?) or cognitive dissonance at play in Hendo's pen.

First comes the repetition of a theme let out of its chaff bag in many a column:

Hawker's mantra that Abbott has a problem with women raises the obvious reflection. If this is so, and the opinion polls are even remotely accurate, then Gillard must have a substantial problem with men. A more likely scenario is that the likes of Marr and Hawker are too subsumed with the opinions of the inner-city men and women with whom they predominantly socialise. Some inner-city commentators in recent years have even acknowledged they do not know any Liberal or National voters. 

Yes, it has to be senility. How else to explain someone who reels this sort of stuff off about the inner city week after week - while working in the inner city - making nonsensical assertions that verge on the stupid.

You live in the inner city of a major city, and you don't know a single Liberal voter? Oh come on, even the vegans in the community store couldn't say that (if only because they fled their Liberal voting mum and dad).

Does Hendo ever pause to wonder how bizarre, how absurd, how surreal he sounds? But before you vote for senility, let's go on to the next par:

The evidence suggests that Abbott's principal value to the opposition turns on his appeal to some traditional Labor supporters in suburban and regional Australia, where most of the marginal seats happen to be. Abbott's social conservatism and his Catholicism are exaggerated by the likes of Marr and Hawker. Even so, the Opposition Leader has a certain appeal in parts of socially conservative Australia, not only among Christians but also within Australia's growing Buddhist, Hindu and Muslim communities.

Okay, that's a strong argument for senility too, because Hendo was trotting out the same line that he used only last December:

Some voters, including Muslims, are attracted by Abbott's social conservatism. The fact that he is married with adult children is not a minus. Also social conservatives of all faiths – Christian, Hindus and Muslims alike – tend to support the Coalition's opposition to same sex marriage. (here)

But the pond prefers cognitive dissonance, because it captures the essential problem.

Abbott's social conservatism is exaggerated by some; but wait, Abbott's social conservative is much loved by all, especially Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims and Christians.

So there it is.

Abbott isn't really a conservative, no matter what Hawker and Marr might say, yet he's loved by conservatives because he's a conservative. And rabid ratbags with fundamentalist religious beliefs, no matter if they're Islamic or Christian or Hindu, especially love him.

You can see why the pond's head began to spin, but it seems Hendo's head also started to spin.

Because right after that, he feels the need to say that everything we've read up to this point in relation to popularity - and especially Abbott's popularity - is entirely irrelevant:

In any event, political success in Australia does not necessarily relate to popularity.

So why have we endured endless chat about Abbott and his alleged popularity, especially amongst Muslims and Hindus?

Well it builds to an even bigger cognitive dissonance:

Most of our successful leaders have not been beloved. In the last Morgan Gallup poll taken before he became prime minister following the dismissal of Whitlam in November 1975, Fraser had a disapproval rating of 54 per cent - about where Abbott's is today. Yet Fraser led the Coalition to a huge victory in December 1975.

That's right, Hendo wheels in Malcolm Fraser, a man whom he routinely loathes and disses in print these days, as evidence that Tony Abbott is on the right track.

Never mind that Fraser's government was wretched, a missed opportunity for reform, and that now in his dotage he's adopted attitudes and positions he rarely managed when he was head prefect - a contradiction Hendo loves to point out, except when using Fraser to show how Tony Abbott is headed to victory. BecauseAbbott's much loved, and immensely popular, except popularity doesn't count, especially if he's loathed in the way that Malcolm Fraser was loathed ...

Where's Mark Latham when he's needed?

Wouldn't it have been simpler for Hendo to spare us all the anguish of a long column, and instead just write how he loves Tony Abbott, loves and hugs him to death, no matter if he's unpopular?

Too late, the pond is down the rabbit hole of cognitive dissonance, and there's no way back, only tears, and potions labelled "drink me" and maybe a puff or two with a caterpillar ...

Your choice. Gun nuts or Maoist Murdochians off on the long march ...

So here we are on a Monday on the fourth of February, and what to the mug punters who actually pay for the continued existence of The Australian cop for their pains?

A story heralding the start of the federal election campaign for an election to be held on the 14th September.

Andrew Bolt notoriously wrote a headline Our life of Pi: 227 days trapped with an angry redhead back on the 31st January 2013, which was not only a slur on redheads, but in its usual outrageous Bolter way, an outright lie.

What it should have said was Our life of dire: 227 days trapped with angry Murdochians, angry buzzing bees who only know how to navel gaze.

Yes, it's left to the pond to bring you this exclusive insight, because the Murdochians are bringing you an exclusive about everything else in the known universe:

Click to enlarge, if you want an exclusive insight into how abuse of the word "exclusive" continues to be an exclusive form of stupidity at the lizard Oz.

It is, of course, journalism as a kind of marketing blitz, a tupperware party, a Mary Kay cosmetics scheme, ponzi journalism or a pyramid racket.

Here's the "exclusive" pitch:

Naturally when this is your pitch, everything has to be exclusive. It's like the old saw about a hammer seeing everything as a nail ... or perhaps a nail worrying about everything being a hammer.

The ponzi part of the pitch comes with the idea of picking up a digital pass for $1 for the first 28 days (then $2.95 per week).

The problem for the pond is that if the rag is relying on such a moronic pitch to pick up mug punters, what guarantee is there that the "exclusive access" to the "exclusive content" won't result in exclusively moronic content designed to get ongoing exclusive access to the pond's credit card?

Sadly there's none, and so the revolving splash at the top of the page is full of stuff like Troy Bramston's wild-eyed apocalyptic carry-on:

A Day of Judgment! Judgment Day!

Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain: let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: for the day of the Lord and Tony Abbott cometh, for it is nigh at hand, or only a mere 220 sleeps or so away!

Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels, because Tony Abbott of the right hand cometh and smiteth mightily and the rich shall dwell in heaven ...

Halleluujah brother, and pass the carrot juice, and we'll all join you in a verse of a Leonard Cohen song.

And so on and so forth, trumpets and alarums, and much tinkling of empty brass in search of brass in pocket.

Can they keep it up? Covering the longest election campaign in history?

Of course they can, because it's what they do, it's all they've got to offer, and all for a dollar down for a month. Sucker!

Which is why the Bolter headline was such a bald-faced, shameless lie. Trapped with an angry redhead? Trapped with blather about Days of Judgment more likely, delivered by inconsequential pups ...

Poor Julia Gillard. Did she honestly think that the fish and chips wrappers would provide an intelligent, adult response to her long march? As opposed to getting down and dirty from day one so that angry white men like the Bolter can rage and foam and fleck and spittle and froth ...

Meanwhile, over at Fairfax, the fine compilation of gutter-trawling conspiracy docs assembled for tin foil hat wearers (thanks Ricky Stewart, good job, well done) and streamed to the world - get your twin towers conspiracy here -  has disappeared from the masthead, and instead we're left with the thoughts of generally grumpy Paul Sheehan.

And what do you know, he's gone into election mode too, with Thomson caught in the political spin cycle.

What's even more astonishing is that Sheehan's column has been deemed to be worthy of a forced video.

What an extraordinary conflation. 

You click on Sheehan expecting a dose of the usual turgid pomposity and Labor bashing, mixed in magic water, and stirred with climate science, and instead you cop forced tabloidism LIVE!

Perhaps it's just as well, because Sheehan spends his entire column using Craig Thomson to bash the Gillard government.

He rabbits on about how it's a way of assessing its moral foundation, without seeming to understand the notion of "innocent until found guilty" or pausing to consider what using the Thomson matter in the way he does reveals about his own moral foundation. 

Or the shifting sands used for the foundation.

Now the pond has absolutely no way of knowing whether Thomson is guilty as charged, or innocent. Neither has Sheehan, which results in much innuendo and speculation, and a trial by newspaper columnist.

It might well be that Thomson is guilty, it might well be that he can persuade a court of his innocence. One thing's certain. Sheehan is not a judge, nor yet a member of a jury, and yet he writes as judge and jury, for political reasons and political intent.

This is gotcha journalism of the yellow press kind. It's not the pond's business to defend Thomson against Sheehan. Who knows what he might have done, and if it's shown he did it, then throw the book at him. But what if the charges don't stick? What if we've been given yet another dose of 'magic water' journalism from that magic water man Paul Sheehan?

 Truth to tell, with Sheehan already down in the gutter with Thomson, and the entire Murdoch press off on a long march with the political pixies - which makes Mao's long march look like a doddle or a short walk in the park - the pond is thinking of abandoning Australian loons for American loons.

There's rich pickings over the Pacific. Every day Wayne LaPierre from the NRA comes out with astonishing nonsense - like suggesting government is in the business of passing laws which only criminals will follow - which turns into rich pickings for the likes of Jon Stewart - and Fox News ratings are suddenly in the war zone, and the country more and more resembles an armed compound full of paranoids toting military gear (quick, Walmart is running short of ammo), and a Tennessee Senator can come out with this:

I think video games is a bigger problem than guns, because video games affect people.

Thanks Lamar Alexander, but surely you remember the line, video games don't kill people, people kill people.

Doonesbury is currently in flashback mode, but deep thinkers like Lamar make his old stuff seem positively inspired and relevant, like his offering over the weekend.

Old Doonesbury and a mad paranoid country in the grip of military weapons, imagining it's still living in the old west or perhaps in a Tarantino western with Django? This is better?

Yep, anything's more interesting than Paul Sheehan in the gutter, and Maoist Murdochians off on their long march ...

(Below: click to enlarge, more Doonesbury here, including the full version which introduces the illegal alien in the first two panels)

And another Sunday thing ...

Most people probably skip right past the splashes the Fairfax press put religiously at the top of their pages for their "TV service", showing aged and useless documentaries they've picked up for a song and a dance and a dime.

But surely a new low point has been reached when you see this sort of teaser:

Explosive Evidence 
Why do 1700 experts dispute the official story about the collapse of the Twin Towers?

The use of the faux statistic - 1700 experts - immediately tips the hat that you're in the territory of cultists, cranks, eccentrics, weirdos, conspiracy theorists and tin foil hat wearers, and yet this is what Fairfax puts at the top of its page as an apparently key part of its branding and its services.

Do you get the tin foil hat for free?

What will happen to Fairfax TV when they put up their partial paywall?

Watching a documentary with their streaming service is like having root canal therapy, and watching something featuring "Explosive evidence" about the Twin Towers is like having the streaming done by a conspiracy theorist armed with pliers.

This is grindhouse stuff, beyond the valley of the Tarantino.

Never mind, the pond is immensely pleased that some silly person googled for "Naughty Dorothy" and somehow ended up on the pond.

It turns out that there is in fact a real Naughty Dorothy and they do a line in lingerie and corsets and bustiers for foolish UK women who have a lazy thirty to sixty quid to play dress up games (and you may find Naughty Dorothy here).

Who could have imagined, or cared?

This site doesn't owe its allegiance to the bimbo brigade but to naughty Dorothy Parker, who once remarked that brevity is the soul of lingerie.

Ms Parker might also have said:

This is not a newspaper and a website to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force. 

Or how about her epitaph?

That would be a good thing for them to cut on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including Fairfax for free conspiracy TV, it was against her better judgment.

Naughty Dorothy, but why, you might be asking (or you might not), has the pond rambled on about the fantasy life of hapless British men, in the context of the "Explosive Evidence" offered by Fairfax, for free, tin foil hat bonus extra?

Well it turns out that if you live in Melbourne, you're offered something entirely different in the top of the page splash:

Ultimate fantasy football! Evolved! Sign up!

Evolved? The knuckles no longer drag on the ground at the bounce of the ball?

And people wonder why the pond proposes that newspapers in this country are doomed. Or that the entire country is doomed. Or at least Victoria, and certainly Melbourne.

Or is that just Dorothy being naughty?

Never mind, since it's Sunday, and the pond is feeling frisky and anxious to please all the mature gentlemen out there in search of naughtiness, there was of course a reason for mentioning Fairfax picking up wretched docs for a song and a dance and a dime ...

Cue dimes and taxi dancers!

And more taxi dancer  dance hall day images are here, and if you feel stiffed because you went looking for  "naughty Dorothy dancer",  try not typing silly search terms into google ...

Why didn't you just type in "explosive evidence ... 1700 expert tin foil hat wearers", and you'd have ended up at Fairfax ...

You're welcome, have a nice day, come on back ya hear, and tell us what it's like to be a woman in the land of the dime ...

It's about time the pond got 10% of the Sunday action ...

(Above: forget Dueteronomy 22:5, let's start the day by giving eternal thanks for the right of men to wear frocks).


The Pellists really have an inspirational leader, a man with a key eye for a frock.

If you're worried about cross-dressing, it probably means you haven't caught up with the news that these days in sensible countries with a sensible secular attitude, women can wear pants and suits, and men can wear a gorgeous gown.

Or you might be a Catholic, somehow imagining that the Catholic church has a solution for all those clergy who enjoy a decent frock:

The good news is that there is hope for cross-dressers and those who struggle with other forms of gender dysphoria. They can make progress toward the goal of freeing themselves from these abnormal tendencies if they receive the proper treatment and make a conscious commitment to stick with it. The first step is to seek counseling from a qualified professional, preferably an individual who is understanding, compassionate, empathetic and willing to listen. (more drivel here, because there's no hope for Catholics trapped in the dysphoria of stupidity)

Now here's a trick question. Spot the difference in dress:

Yes, Cardinal Pell wears a much more bold and imaginative shade of red, though he really must get his train up to par.

Hey nonnny no, moving along, Cardinal George Pell truly excelled his best conflationary self with this opener in his week-old thoughts for the Sunday Terror:

What is the point of Australia Day? Should it remain like the Queen's Birthday a holiday (long defended by Marxist union leaders) with significance only for a minority; or should we work to broaden and deepen its meaning? (Australia Day)

Marxist union leaders? Instead of corrupt union leaders, out for themselves union leaders, useless or irrelevant union leaders?

The pond hasn't heard that sort of language, blather about Marxists, since the 1950s, and how revealing it is, that the Pellists should still be fighting the battles of the DLP and B. A. Santamaria ...

If Paul Howes is a Marxist, then Moet and Chandon is the drink of the workers (The dilemmas of teaming up with the enemy, behind the paywall but there's just time to sip on the Moet).

Showing a wondrous banality of mind, Pell wants to turn Australia Day into a day of thanksgiving, with people of no faith expressing gratitude for what they have received. (Like Australians have such impoverished imaginations, they shouldn't just stick to stealing Halloween).

We should be expressing gratitude, and indulging in thanksgiving, for getting Pellist thinking on a week old basis for free ...? That's a good reason for gratitude and celebration?

Pass the arsenic.

Meanwhile, in the real world of the United States, L.A. Cardinal Roger Mahony was stripped of any remaining public and administrative duties after the release of thousands of pages of church documents showing he and his aides had conspired in a cover up of the sexual abuse of children by clergy. (Retired Los Angeles cardinal punished over abuse revelations).

And all the Pellists can prattle about is how we should be full of gratitude and thanks. No thanks.

Over at the angry Sydney Anglicans, there's wild excitement at an upcoming conference:

What is it with the graphic artists employed by the angry Anglicans, and the imagery they use?

It immediately reminded the pond of that scene where Bart gets his heart ripped out (here on YouTube)

And is it that far from the idolatrous, heretical imagery of the Catholic church? You know, all that sacred heart stuff:

What a fine upstanding Scandinavian lad that young Jesus was ... and such a neat beard, sets off the blue eyes nicely ...

But we digress, distracted by the way that the angry Anglicans website seems to be growing more desperate and weirder by the day in its quest for some sort of relevance:

After you get past that photo, you discover that the ordination doesn't cover a wide area, at least when it comes to women, with only a couple getting the nod. Which is perhaps just as well because sooner or later they'll bump into the Anglican glass ceiling, and experience work place discrimination when it comes to higher office.

That's the result of a couple of thousand years of  Jensenism, aka the patriarchy. 

But strangely, of late the Jensenists have been uncommonly quiet on site, with Phillip Jensen last heard from back in December bleating about atheists and Christmas here (why he capitalised atheists must remain a mystery), and Peter Jensen is almost out the door, and Michael Jensen's last offering was a blather about women in the ministry finding the room to prophesy (here), as if guilt had finally caught up with him when he heard the news that ordination as usual covered a really narrow area.

So what caught the eye was good old-fashioned capitalism. 

Now old time lingerers amongst the Jensens will remember many long rants about the evils of capitalism. 

As a sampler why not taste Phillip Jensen carrying on about the workers in 2001 with Harsh demands of the workplace on strugglers.

It turns out back then life was sweet for angry Sydney Anglicans:

For me, Australia is an easy and pleasant place to live. A place where you can shop anytime, day or night, for whatever you want.

But not for the chicken shop man:

How sad that a man who lived most of his life under a socialist system that restricted his religion is now living under a capitalist system that also restricts his ability to practice his religion. In Russia it was the government regulations that were restrictive. In Australia it is the unregulated greed of our materialistic system. Either way he can't go to church.

Which brings us to the bazinga, as Sheldon might say.

This week there's yet another plug for the Southern Cross:

Do you like the copy?

In the current economic climate
targeted, effective advertising is more important than ever.

If only the Russian chicken shop man had known all those years ago, the Sydney Anglicans could have taken care of his pressing commercial needs and allowed him time in church, by simply getting him to targeting their flock and sell the sheep his tasty chooks.

The pond mentions this purely in the spirit of community service, because it turns out that for as little as $140 a week you can buy a display ad on the website, or list your job for as little as $40 a week, or bonus knock-down, last minute rush, $150 a month (that's ten bucks off regular weekly pricing, hurry, hurry, don't be late, this offer can't wait).

For that you'll get a splash in front of the 650,000 annual visits and 1.6 million page views at the second most popular church website in Australia. Or so the spruikers assure the punters.

It's yet another timely reminder of why the Anglicans and Catholics always scored the very best building sites for churches, either in the heart of the city, or up on the hill amongst the toffs, so everyone could look down on the mugs below. And why, for all their talk, the Calvinists have always had a lot of time for capitalism.

Surely those who faithfully link to the Anglican website and help drive traffic are now entitled to a 10% commission on sales?

The pond awaits a cheque in the post.

Meanwhile, a reminder to the faithless that much good fun can be had by attending the pages of the Anglican Church League, which routinely sounds alarums and links to disturbing developments in the world. 225 years on - will we be faithful? (and still believe in Adam and Eve as a guide to male and female relationships?) is but one example ... and thanks to the reader who reminded the pond of this treasure ...

Meanwhile, speaking of capitalism and religion, there is of course one cult that knows how to score celebrity and cash, and silence critics, in a way that would make the average angry Anglican envious. One Tom Cruise and you don't need to knock ten bucks off a display ad ...

It's a remarkable sight most days of the week, but amazingly, Transworld, the owner of the UK rights to Lawrence Wright's book on scientology, has decided not to publish it in Britain.

Yet somehow Hadley Freeman in Scientology was inevitable: the lesson of Lawrence Wright's book, Going Clear, can summarise the book on L. Ron Hubbard thusly:

It is easy to mock a religion that is based on the teachings of a – as Wright describes him – priapic, violent, bigamist pulp-fiction writer who experienced his formative revelation while under anaesthetic during a dental operation...

Indeed, it's bloody easy to mock, but not so easy, it turns out, to get a book published in the UK.

But at least we now know the true meaning of freedom of religion ... it's the freedom to arrange for the metaphorical pulping of books before they're even printed. (more on Wright and his book here)

Now that's a scientological achievement right up there with a little heart-crushing capitalism ...

(Below: caution, tomato scientist at work)

Day 2 in the longest campaign since the run up to D-Day ... and the pond is on the beaches already ...

(Above: what does it signify? The pond has no idea)


Recently Amanda Vanstone asked her listeners to send in suggestions as to what might help make Australia a better place.

The pond is always interested in ways to make Orstralia a bloody beaut better place, and thought for a nanosecond about the wisdom of suggesting that she was one of the least useful hosts of Counterpoint imaginable, and that the asterisk-sized audience for Radio National, if not Australia in general, would be in a better place if she took another gig, perhaps in Italy.

The problem was how to make it sound non-snarky, in some way sounding as if the pond wasn't channelling that master of negativity, that doctor of dourness, the one and only Dr. No.

Vanstone presents as perfectly amiable and on occasions she even sounds as if she's willing to engage with her guests ... before the inner politician's desire to hear her own voice takes over.

Spending half an interview reminiscing about her time in political power, or why she's down on academics and students, or harking back endlessly to her time in Italy, or pressing her own views rather than those of her guests makes her radio techniques sound unnervingly like those of Phillip Adams (except of course he talks of more than Italy, the entire cosmos, the universe is his sand-pit).

The pond knows about relevancy deprivation syndrome - try being reduced to blogging about loons - but Vanstone, Jeff Kennett and other retired politicians should have a special home made available for them.

Perhaps instead of the "adopt a greyhound" campaign run by a guilty dog racing industry, we could have an "adopt a politician and stick them in the back shed with plenty of food and water" campaign. Whatever. Just keep them off the radio ...

There's no wonder conservatives carp about the ABC. If Vanstone is the best talent they can dig up, then conservatives must indeed be an abject, wretched breed who like to bloviate far too much.

Which naturally brings us to this Saturday's session of watching of the watchers, and the pond's recent bet that the media couldn't help itself in calling a campaign when ostensibly no campaign yet exists.

Yep, from the date that Gillard announced the date, in the eyes of dullards everywhere, she'd embarked on an extended election campaign.

That was Fairfax joining in the general fever.

Naturally The Australian was eager to confirm that the entire country is in election mode and will stay that way until September (and naturally this was a defeat for Gillard):

Yes Ms Vanstone, make sure you provide equal time!

Dennis "the tie" was chomping at the bit, frothing and foaming about the upcoming election, and filling the void with endless, dreary, cliched, stereotypical notions about which way voters will swing.

(screen cap only, no hot link, because it's behind the paywall and there it should stay. Linking to mediocre minds that say it's said only encourages to say more of what others have said).

It's the second of February, the election is on September 14th. 

Can they keep it up? Of course they can, because in their dreary political lives, they've got bugger all else to write about.

Naturally the Daily Terror was also out of the blocks fast with a story about Tim and Margie and the key roles they'll play in the campaign:

Guys, guys, guys, how to put this politely and discreetly and elegantly ...

It's the fucking second of fucking February. The fucking election's not due until fucking September 14th.

Are we going to cop stories about Tim and Margie for the next seven months?

On and on it goes. 

The Terror also began its detailed election coverage with a story about the Federal seat of Greenway. The header says it all: Federal seat of Greenway is Labor's litmus test for the 2013 Federal Election.

What was great about this story was the pic used. 

It seemed to show some slatternly office cleaner or polar fleece-wearing demi-monde dweller shuffling along the pavement, oblivious to the demonic gaze of Tony Abbott and the manicured smile of the woman on the poster. 

Sweet long lost absent Jesus, it seems this might be a typical Greenway voter off to play the pokies.

Not everyone led the same way. 

The HUN was interested in other things, leading with another Jill Meagher related story, the Courier-Mail was preoccupied with the floods, and the best the Adelaide Advertiser could find for top of the digital page was a pure piece of abject fluffery:

Actually Susie - may we call you Susie - it's stories like this that raise eyebrows - so much fluff, and in such little space (here it is)

The old 'Tiser isn't the rag it once was... 

But to be fair to good old Susie, she could write this sort of drivel any old time, and it's just fortuitous that the glasses wearing coincided with the announcement of the start of the election campaign. Cue a despairing story about how women need glasses too.

The West Australian also left the federal "election campaign" in relative piece, preferring to put a story about the Peel Heath Campus whistleblower at the top of its digital page.

Which raises the question ... 

Is it more than a coincidence that the two most rabidly pro-Tony Abbott, anti-Julia Gillard feral, frothing and foaming rags in the Murdoch stable have already presented themselves in warrior election campaign mode?

Can they keep it up? 

Well the Daily Terror and the lizard Oz have been on a war footing in favour of Abbott since the last election, so of course they can. That's like asking if a sociopath can maintain the rage ...

But here's hoping it leaves their readership bemused, if not disgruntled, when they realise that it's only the fucking second of fucking February, and they'll have to put up with this slavering and slobbering about a two dog race for month after month after bloody unendurable month ...

Is there any relief, any light at the end of this very long tunnel?

Well the good news is that today Christopher Pearson disappeared up his navel, or his fundament, or domestic South Australian politics, in a long, rambling, incoherent review of why Labor keeps winning and the Libs losing, including a tendency to lose leaders (Crying out for a Lib who can lead, behind the paywall to spare the world from too much suffering). 

Pearson ends thusly, more in hope than anything:

Downer has repeatedly said he's not interested, although there's a school of thought which says he wants to make the local Liberals beg him to take the baton, thus ensuring he can lead a united opposition with authority.

It was with a poignant, heavy heart that the pond then read this report:

Mining magnate Gina Rinehart has chosen former foreign minister Alexander Downer as her second representative on the board of oil and gas explorer Lakes Oil. 
Mrs Rinehart's Hancock Prospecting company snared an 18.6 per cent stake in Lakes Oil earlier this week. 
As part of the deal, Lakes Oil agreed to appoint climate change sceptic and mining geologist Professor Ian Plimer to its board. Lakes Oil said today that Mr Downer had also been nominated by Hancock Prospecting to join the board as a non-executive director. (here)

There you go, a prime example of fleas of a feather flocking together ... and whatever you do, please don't mention climate science. It's so upsetting ...

Meanwhile, it seems that Mr. Downer, too busy cosying up to Gina and Plimer, has endorsed Steve Marshall (Alexander Downer endorses cleanskin Steven Marshal, behind the paywall, as if you care).

So much for Pearson's school of thought, but it does confirm the pond's golden rule.

You'll always learn more by not reading Pearson.

And now it seems, the South Australian Liberals are on a campaign footing, for an election campaign which will take place next year, and is possibly therefore only a year away.

Why it might be in March 2014. Quick, quick lads and lasses to the barricades. Raise the alarums, tell the stories.

Why the pond knows for a certainty that it's said that middle South Australia makes or breaks a government. Never has this been more apparent than in the upcoming SA election, in what will be a battle for the hearts and minds in suburbia ...

So it goes, and no, there's no chance anyone will shut up. It's known as Vanstone syndrome ...

And now, since we mentioned Phillip Adams at the start, how's this for a sight?

The pond stumbled upon it, and it seems it's Adams from around 1970 (the pond disclaims any liability for any emotional distress).

And the Murdochian news is, the campaigning is well under way ...

The pond woke up this morning with the question that's been on everyone's lips these past few months ... when will the PM call an election?

Then it all came flooding back, with a sickening nightmarish reality.

Gosh darn it, how to ruin a really good conversation starter. Kill the chatter. Ruin a column or three.

Oh well, with nothing else to talk about, may as well get into full campaign mode because when you're a Murdoch reporter with buzzing bees for brains, what else can you do.

Yes, the very first item at the top of the digital Oz page is a reference to the PM's campaign:

(screen cap only, no hot links)

Didn't Gillard explicitly state over and over in her speech that this wasn't a time for campaigning?

Never mind, she's under Murdochian starters orders.

You see, the Murdochian press will never forgive or forget Gillard's snatching away of their favourite conversation starter, their daily pacifier, their speculatron stocking and column filler. What point weekly polling now when we will, long days down the track, face the ultimate poll?

Sweet long absent Jesus, it's the 1st February. Can they keep on going on in election campaign mode this way until September?

Silly billy, of course they can. When all you've got in your head is buzzing bees and an unquenchable thirst for revenge, a little further down the same digital page you'll see the bees have produced:

As you'd expect, Dennis "the tie and nicely striped suit" Shanahan is outraged that he's been sentenced to writing about how inept Gillard is for the next seven and a half months. 

Shanahan is acutely aware that he's a one trick pony, but deprived of speculating about an election date, what on earth else can he write about?

(screen cap only, no hot links, the pond is no linkalist)

Now say it three times, and click your nicely polished heels: Gillard diminished, Gillard diminished, Gillard diminished.

Meanwhile, in the real world, there is in NSW, depending on your moral compass, either a vastly entertaining or a vastly depressing circus going on, featuring assorted Obeids.

You can catch up on the latest instalment in Obeid and the truth test (forced video at end of link), and if you want an explanation of why NSW is stuck for a long time with a premier who thinks the second Sydney airport should be in Cairns, look no further.

It was a simple gotcha, but what a gotcha. Mr. Moses Obeid spun his line, and then they played a tape:

Mr Obeid is heard saying: ''Hey, the funny thing is G [Gardner], if they actually knew that we were behind it, they'd realise f--- … Well, they'd shit themselves but then once they got over that, they'd realise f---, we could actually make a few things happen here quickly.'' 
His brother Paul raised chuckles in the the public gallery when he was heard on the tape saying: ''We're not greedy.''

The irony, up there with the gravedigger having a joke with Hamlet?

Obeid had made the recording.

Don't worry about Craig Thompson. Whatever he has or hasn't done, it pales in comparison to the lo jinks that have gone on at ministerial and parliamentary level in NSW.

Obeid got to where he got in the old days, because Bob Carr made the mistake of deciding it was better to have him inside the tent, pissing out, than outside, pissing in, and there's a memorable report on his dumping of Obeid in 2003 in Labor's killing machine spoils the party.

While there will be concerted attempts to link Carr to Obeid, the killer blow came when featherweight Kristina Keneally came to power, and put Obeid ally Ian Macdonald back into cabinet, after Nathan Rees had tried to keep him out.

It's a sorry parochial story, but now it's proving even greater fun than the Rum Rebellion, and just as sordid.

Or funny, since you have to hand it to Justice Peter Young invoking Thackeray and Vanity Fair by noting that the Obeids seemed to exemplify "how to live well on nothing a year".

There's real meat here for investigative reporting, but don't expect it to be done by the Murdochians.

It's rare that the pond tips the hat to anyone scribbling for The Punch, but David Forman nails what we can expect in Will the media rise to the marathon election challenge?

Politics is still reported as a horse race or personality contest, and Australians continue to turn to the online world to vent their spleen and frustration. 
Maybe the problem is that the media is so diminished that it is actually incapable of doing that job anymore. 
 So, here’s an early election prediction. The media will not rise to the challenge. It will happily throw the switch to campaign mode, drive us all insane by being reflexively inane, and, worse, moan about it as though it’s someone else’s fault. 
Please try to prove me wrong.

Naturally it was the pleasure of the lizard Oz today, with its top of the page reference to the PM's campaign, to prove him right.

Reflexively inane.

And there's Tim Dunlop banging the same drum in Real media revolution gives the people the power.

It's delusional of course, the MSM still has the real power, but for what it's worth - and it's worth less and less in terms of the stock market these days - just for a moment, watching episode six of the latest series of Portlandia, the pond had a fevered moment engineering a reverse takeover of The Australian.

In the episode, the hapless Portland Tribune is taken over by LinxPDX, a very successful online blog, and much fun is had thereafter by referencing social media, and new ways of reporting...

Since people don't read articles anymore, just maybe every fifth word. So just make it those five words ...

In which case, here's the pond's five words:

media federal campaign now sucks

Sheesh, that's hard. Can we just use a few more words?

Media scribbling about federal political campaign now sucks really big time.

Oh wait, research shows that people tune out after two sentences, and that's a really long sentence, way too hard for a buzzing bee to grasp.

The pond now looks forward to comments such as "she looks like a dik" as well as to the day the buzzing bees realise that they're no longer journalists, they're linkalists ...

Oh wait, I see where this is heading. Here's the story that garners the Portland Tribune the most hits of all time.

Yep, it's the Daily Terror with bonus Piers 'Akker Dakker' Akerman to fill in the gaps between the tits, or the HUN with bonus Andrew 'the Bolter' Bolt to provide filler between the reports on side boobs and bottom cleavage ....

It's going to be a long year, but it's Friday, so dress casual, and drink up before slumping down ...

Sadly this also means the pond doesn't have the time to mention Chris Berg brooding about George Orwell in The Orwell cult is way out of hand.

In it, the utterly shameless Berg berates a swag of people for using Orwell for their own purposes ... and then proceeds to use Orwell for his own purposes, which is to bag everybody and everything except the faceless funders of the deceptively titled, somewhat Orwellian Institute of Public Affairs.

The po-faced Berg has about as much grasp of irony and hypocrisy as your average spiny ant-eater.

And wouldn't the IPA's name fit well with a government body in the Orwellian universe, or Soviet Russia, or East Germany ...

Apart from that, all that's left to be said is that you wouldn't use Berg as a shoelace on a bit of Orwell's scribbles ... and that the IPA cult at the ABC is way out of hand. Amazingly, Berg even has his own ABC twitter address here ...

It's a bit like going to the Atheist Foundation and discovering it's being run by Hillsong ...

Is Mark Scott still a clap happy these days?

Perhaps Berg is right. Let's do a little tweak on Orwell, IPA style:

War is peace - that's good.
Freedom is slavery - a bit soft. How about Freedom not to know about the IPA's funders is Strength
Ignorance is Strength - sadly weak. How about the Ignorance of Chris Berg is Strength
Tax increases are spending cuts - ah, at last Orwell understands the IPA

Now how about a couple more?

Smoking is great, and then you die
Miners must dig up the ground now so future generations won't waste their inheritance
The Shakespeare cult is way out of hand
The IPA is your big kindly caring brother, fighting for your right to smoke and die, and for the climate to fuck up big time, and Chris Berg is your very bestest brother.