In which the pond turns to the Speccie mob for its Friday relief ...

The pond was deeply reluctant to turn away from the lizard Oz as preparations for the 30th birthday celebrations get underway - oh there's a deep vein of pure black coal and suffering white farmers to be explored - but rulez is rulez, no matter what the auto-correct says, and this day the pond has set up a tradition of visiting the Speccie mob …

Sadly there was no Giles - the much-loved heart of the rag - but what joy that Flinty was back, and he'd abandoned his pensants to stage a party which rivalled the pending lizard Oz fiesta …

Indeed, indeed, the pond was deeply moved and immediately thought of Steve Smith as an adulteress … or was that Barners?

The pond sometimes gets terribly confused, but the point is well made. First commit a crime, then commit an act of contrition, and immediately Flinty will fill you full of a devine love that passes understanding …

And now to give the cowardly Malware what for. No amount of contrition will ever save this knife-wielding cad ...

Trump-like! Could there be any higher praise? As for speaking the language of the working class man, it's well known that sounds rather like Flinty, which is to say a plum shoved so deep down into the oesophagus that it sometimes feels and sounds like it's coming out of the speaker's arse …

And so it's on to Flinty's demand for the immediate recall of the onion muncher, perhaps with petulant Peta by his side - oh she deserves a vote of thanks - and certainly with knighthoods, because how can we be a crowned republic if we don't have crowned knights?

Now the pond can sense a certain scepticism regarding the overwhelming demand for the return of the onion muncher, but Flinty is ready for the sceptics and the heretical, atheistic, secularist non-believers trapped in their soul-less universe, as incapable of eating an onion as a vampire is when confronted by garlic ...

Indeed, indeed, Brexit and Trump have worked out splendidly, America is great again, and who could possibly argue with that? Let there be no ridicule of Flinty, he manages the job perfectly well by himself ...

And so to the rest of the endurance course. The pond has decided that this is a bumper Speccie day and anyone who wants to get to the Pope cartoon will have to jump deep ditches and work very hard …

The first step is to ignore the news of recent times …

Monash's immediately family?

What would those loons know about the general when put up against the Speccie editorialist, in full flowering form ...

Wondrous stuff, and how right to deplore Malware and entirely ignore Monash's family.

Of such stuff was the British empire built, and speaking of the British, Hal G. P. was also out and about …

He's no Giles, but senility is much valued at the pond, and Hal G. P. was in fine form ...

It takes special class to defend Britain First but Hal G. P. is just the man for the job, and the pond was entranced as he rolled up his sleeves and went about the work like a British coal miner before Margaret Thatcher took a view ...

It's a fine point, but a necessary one … because really it should go without saying that Muslims can't ever be British people … and now having defended Martin Sellner, please allow the Hal G. P. to defend the gonzo ...

So many sics, it's enough to make both Hal G. P. and the pond sick.

What happened to the good old days, when Sir Oswald Mosley and the BUF knew what it was to be truly British, and good King Edward just wanted to be friends, and Lord Rothermere knew how to put out a decent newspaper. Where were the Speccie mob then?

An editor at the Spectator responded by writing, “the Blackshirts, like the Daily Mail, appeal to people unaccustomed to thinking. The average Daily Mail reader is a potential Blackshirt ready made.” (more fun here).

Oh dear. Never mind, it seems that these days the average Speccie scribbler of the Hal G. P. kind and the average Speccie reader is a potential Blackshirt ready made …

How can the pond say this with any certainty?

There are two clear indicators - either a reference to leaving a cake out in the rain at Macarthur Park or an invocation of the spirit of King Alfred the Great, those splendid Anglo-Saxons who invaded the hallowed isle and made it decently Germanic … (here)

Indeed, indeed, the sooner we all get back to our German ancestry, the sooner the pond will earn proper respect - how they mocked the Black Forest on The Goodies - and Hal G. P. will be judged a proper and decent gauleiter …

And now for all those who staggered to the finish line, a Pope which seems to summarise certain tendencies and thoughts in the Speccie mob, with more apt summaries by the Pope in a better gallery format here ...

In which the reptiles keep worrying about coal and the onion muncher and the pond worries about the reptiles and the defeatist Dutton ...

The pond has begun tracking the reptile news day with the same devotion it once showed to the reptile commentariat now tucked behind the paywall …

Every so often, it turns up a genuine piece of coal ..

Dear sweet long absent lord, not BHP …not those bloody activists … oh pity the poor pollies left holding the coal …

 

That rat ScoMo jumped the shark too …and the pond could sense that the entire newsroom was engulfed in a flood of tears ...

Slowly, slowly ...

And then came this … more reptile sobbing over a gloomy mutton defeatist Dutton …

Now there's nothing that remarkable about this. After all, the mutton Dutton's idea of loyalty is to stir up trouble for Julie Bishop, and swear an oath of fealty to a dropkick useless loser heading rapidly for his thirtieth hiding …

No, what's good is the way that the reptiles have played their part in this Euripdean tragedy … for they must run the next Newspoll, and they are drawn towards the man of the moment …

Nary a moment can pass without the grim spectre turning up in his MAMIL splendour somewhere in the LaTrobe Valley, and the reptiles destined to cover it, and add to Malware's shame … oh the night they drove old Malware down, you could hear the pond singing …

Poor Rach is transfixed … go on Rach, mention the Ciobo matter, mention the coal again, oh won't someone think of the dinkum clean Oz coal, oi, oi, oi, and evoke the MAMIL in all his majesty …and remember to spruik the coal loving, war hero mocking forum ...

It's passing marvellous to behold, the way they clutch to their worry beads and repeat the mantra, while the treacherous BHP goes about its business, and the mutton Dutton is consumed with defeatism …

All that's left to make the pond's day complete are a few Donald cartoons …

In which the pond goes on a bike ride with an exhibitionist MAMIL, but plausibly denies it's in love with brown coal or onion munchers ...

Come, coal lovers, hearken unto me ...

Quite the silliest piece in the lizard Oz this day came from the Swiss bank account man, demanding that the stooges stand up and be counted, while all along, there, as bold as brass, was the head stooge himself at the top of the story …

But at least it was brief …

… and it was revealing, if nothing else of the Janus approach that the Labor party brings to any discussion of dinkum clean Oz coal, oi, oi, oi …

But this is a red herring. Who cares about the number, shape and form of faceless forelock-tuggers who allegedly signed up to a forum which disreputably tarnishes the reputation of an old warrior of the Jewish persuasion ...

A head count is just for benefit of Labor party number crunchers, an easy guide to whether Malware might be getting rolled sooner … or later ...

The forum is just a fancy word for shit-stirring, but given the ethical dilemmas, all the pond can do is talk of the onion-munching, coal nut forum, and its brazen emissary, intent on reasserting his primacy in the jungle …

Oh the reptiles were full of the tale of brave deeds …

How they laughed and clapped hands and danced with glee, and booked a fast train to the Latrobe Valley...

Look at me, look at moi, regardez-moi …

But soft, had the exhibitionism gone too far?

First the flirtation with Pauline, then the forum of onion-munching coal nutters … was it too obvious for a man renowned for his very unique* subtlety of approach? (*licensed usage from the ABC).

There had to be some plausible deniability … please, waiter, wheel in Rachel to distract, and could we have some fine figures of dominant men at the top of the piece looking particularly MAMIL-ish?

A glass of water is Ciobo's way of calming down?

Enough of that nonsense, the pond could sense a desire to savour a glass of red, on with the rest of the plausible deniability ...

A very clear choice? Between a lickspittle quisling futtock of a Richo coal-loving kind, and a futtock inclined to dissembling Ciobo doing his lickspittle quisling mealy-mouthed speak?

A desktop due diligence exercise? Top level verbiage from a blatherer of the first water. As was noted here in the comments section, it will be a very interesting high efficiency plant if it's caught dead, running on Victorian brown coal.

These are stupid people being driven ineluctably into opposition by a man whom the pond has always thought should stay at the top of its banner … a man who will do anything and everything to destroy the man who displaced him, no matter how sordid, unseemly and wretched it is …

 

A bike ride through the Latrobe Valley? Why it almost feels like a calm, meditative way to do a little problem-solving ...

Black coal, with its low moisture content, was regarded as the premier fuel for household heating, industry, and railways. The coal deposits at Cape Paterson were mined from the late 1850s, but never produced anything like enough to make Victoria selfsufficient in black coal. The search for coal was a priority for the Geological Survey from its inception. Alfred Selwyn discovered black coal at Wonthaggi as early as 1858, but it was of too poor a quality to make mining worthwhile. A thorough survey of black coal deposits of south Gippsland during the 1890s drew no better conclusion about the viability of the resource. Things changed in 1909 when a long strike by NSW coal miners caused a shortage of black coal in Victoria. Work carried out by the Geological Survey led the government to open the State Coal Mines at Wonthaggi, ensuring Victoria a degree of selfsufficiency in this vital fuel. The State Coal Mines closed in 1968. (here)

Is it any wonder that the pond has stayed the course with the onion muncher, and each day feels compelled to revive fond memories of that immortal David Rowe Easter classic?

Roll on Monday, and let the coverage from the mindless publicity stunt - look at moi - begin … and waiter, we'll need three nails sent to table quick-stix …make sure there's a long one for the feet …oh, and in the meantime, if the gruesome spectacle is too much for some folks, there's more Rowe here ...

In which the reptiles keep news of the civil war flowing ...

Oops, sorry, where did that come from?

Distant memories of a sporting whiteboard and a war that never ends, a war longer than the hundred years war … 

Don't ask what the war is about … anything will do for a squabble.

It will be recalled that the cultish reptiles had lathered themselves up into a frenzy at the way that everything was going to fall apart this last summer thanks to the energy situation …but when you're in a cult, if the rapture didn't happen, never mind, it's sure to happen next week, and meanwhile, there are sensitivities to be trodden on …

Say what? It's changed from dinkum clean Oz coal, oi, oi, oi, to "coal power" - mighty morphin' coal power pollies…

Discourteous? Pardon the pond if it puts on its best Yosemite Sam southern gentleman voice. "I say suh, have you no decency, suh?"

Sorry Sam, they're dinosaurs, they must do what dinosaurs must do … and the biggest, toughest dinosaur of them all leads the way ...

He's going to cycle through the Latrobe Valley? Will he take in Morwell? Never mind, Scottie was in the thick of the war too ...

This is where the reptiles, with their lust for dinkum clean Oz coal oi, oi, oi, and their demands for coal power pollies, have finally arrived.

Poor old Scottie cornered and up the tree, a bit like the possum down the road the pond spotted last night (but at least he or she was waiting to swoop on the community garden) ...

But it didn't end there. Even the Canavan cock had to crow thrice …

And what did the careening Caravan have to say about the nattering "Ned" piece reported in the pond yesterday?

Uh huh. Why is the pond reminded of images of a dancing, swirling Bugs Bunny? So what sayeth the Cory ...

Oh that's harsh, that's damnably harsh, suggesting that the likes of the onion muncher are in bed with the socialistic, pinkly perverted watermelonish greenies … can't we at least agree that it's all AGL's fault for taking climate science and future trends seriously?

Well it wouldn't be a proper civil war without Barners making an appearance and the reptiles just had to catch up on his ABC turn, where it has to be said, Barners was looking more beefy and fleshy than ever ...

It was Ollie who was assigned the transcription duties … and what fine rhetorical form Barners was in ...

Around this point, the pond felt in urgent need of a reviving Rowe cartoon - Barners has an unnerving affect on the pond, all the more so as only a few days ago it was breathing the very same air in that lively town of Armidale …

Sheesh, no wonder the pond felt faint and in need of a refreshing Rowe - the clean coal just caresses your cheek with an unearthly glow - and happily there's more cleansing Rowe available here …

Keep the rats warm Scottie! Do it for Malware, with his 30th birthday just around the corner …

And so to an analysis by Andrew, a Fairfaxian refugee who sets out all the tempting reasons to spend a squillion keeping the dream alive, so that in due course energy users still on the grid can pay a due and proper price ...

Say what?

A competitive threat to Telstra's ageing but hugely profitable copper network? Where the pond sits, Telstra's ageing copper network is the NBN… and it's a genuine competitive threat only if the competition is to see how many drop-outs can be produced in a day ...

Never mind, let Andy finish making his case for AGL to sell ...

Ah, so it's all to do with maximising the benefits to NSW customers …or is it just so the whole fuss will go away, and the civil war might come to a temporary end, as if that's remotely possible with the onion munching dinosaur on the prowl or on his bike ...

And so to the reptiles latest story this day, one that took up the bottom half of the front page of the tree killer edition, and was top of the digital edition ...

Say what? The onion muncher and Di Natale are as one? The greenies and the onion muncher are joined at the hip? They want to socialise the grid and keep them pesky furriners out?

Cory was right? Nattering "Ned" was right?

Is it any wonder the pond felt the need to join with Little Walter?

I don't care what you heard 
This is a crazy mixed up world 
Crazy mixed up world 
Crazy mixed up world 
Crazy mixed up world 
I'm in a crazy mixed up world 
When I loosen up down inside 
My feet begin to glide 
My heart goes pump, pump, pump 
That clean coal makes me jump, jump, jump 
I can't control myself no more
Clean coal got me on the floor 
Well, I'm crazy ain't you heard 
I'm in a crazy mixed up world

It's got so crazy the pond had to rely on the immortal Pope to bring word of the mutton Dutton's tremendous international diplomacy … with more Pope here ...