In which prattling Polonius and Dame Slap take care of the pond's Saturday matinee cliff hanger ...

For those who came in late to the story, yesterday the pond presented the duelling banjos of the dog botherer and bromancer celebrating the way all might not yet be lost for the Donald, natural heir and successor to Maggie and Ronnie Raygun, and tried to comfort dear sweet Gracie, who thought conservatism might be dead, sounding like a modern day Nietzsche announcing the demise of God …a shocking, disturbing conceit which sent the pond into a total tizz ...

The pond promised a way forward, a way to shoehorn new realities into existing ideology … by the magic of nostalgia, a drifting into the past, a forgetting of all that besets unhappy reptiles at the moment.

And as might be expected, when in urgent need of a way out of the Saturday matinee cliff hanger, prattling Polonius led the way …

Indeed, the foolish left are incapable of judging economic success. Why, wealth inequality around the world has risen at a staggering rate, and how successful is that!

There are many graphs out there celebrating this wondrous success … but this will do because the pond is even lazier than Polonius ...

Surely something worth celebrating, but there's always a fly in the ointment, and as usual the Polonial ointment was spoiled by that dreadful treacherous, traitorous, lickspittle, fellow-travelling, quisling Speersie, who crossed over from Murdochian nirvana to the satanic ABC to become the anti-Christ … (well it is the home of very unique Satanists, the pond and Polonius knows it for a fact) ...

Now at this point, a few might want to consider a reliable source before continuing with a discussion of pissing down as an economic solution. Have you had a session with your astrologer today?

But Polonius wasn't too worried about consulting the stars. Doubt the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt Polonius's reverence for past conservative glories...

Indeed, indeed. There's rarely a day goes by that the pond and someone in the middle east doesn't pause to celebrate the achievements of Tony Blair …

  

 

But enough of joyous celebrations of past achievements, and their ongoing effects, it's time for the final Polonial gobbet, and how mortifying, a couple of corrections ...

Just for the record, the pond regrets never bothering to fact check Polonius, and so last week publishing this indication that Polonius might be losing it …

And so to Dame Slap ploughing the same field of nostalgia, because where one reptile goes, all must follow, because how to be a conservative without being a sheep baa-ing and or a horse's arse neighing about the wonders of Maggie and Ronnie Raygun ...

Now as will be seen in that presentation, this is Dame Slap in undiluted hagiographic form, with many iconic statues of the saints on hand to be worshipped.

But there is an important point to note. Even though Dame Slap once donned the MAGA cap and slipped out into the nighttime streets of New York to celebrate the arrival of the Donald, these days such miscues are best ignored, and the wisest solution is to drift off into the rosy-hued golden-ray bathed memories, a nostalgia that only Barbra Steisand and Dame Slap might be capable of evoking ...

Indeed, indeed, and the pond is at one with Josh, having checked with the astrologer that this is an appropriate stance …

Naturally Dame Slap had also checked her stars, and knew it was a blessing that Ronnie Raygun had been guided by the celestial structures, guided around the dangerous shoals, reefs and rocks of lefties ...

Ah yes, forget the state of disrepair that Maggie left the country in, such that even her fellow Tories couldn't wait to get rid of her, forget the final demented years of Ronnie Raygun, look to the stars …

And so on to the next hagiographic snap of Maggie ...

Hang on, hang on, does nostalgia mean taking cheap shots at the masterly policies inaugurated by Josh's mob?

More at the Graudian here if you've got a dowdy bathroom or new rooms to add, go for it, but the pond must continue on with the hagiographic pics ...

Freedom? But we've got the Donald, Xi and Vlad the impaler now, and thanks to the Donald, and in her own humble way, Dame Slap herself, the Ruskis and Xi are on the march, so who needs freedom? And as for the rest …

Sorry, back to hagiographic snaps of visionaries guided by the stars ...

Hang on, hang on, is Dame Slap now so wreathed in nostalgia that she just dismissed SloMo as a mediocre politician? 

What does she make of her Donald now? 

Oh that's right, please no mention of the Donald, no reason for present ugly realities to intrude into the glorious past.

The business of dealing with the present is best done by wandering back into dreams of past glories, and if it's good enough for Polonius, it's good enough for Dame Slap ...with appropriate caveats of course ...

Dear sweet long absent lord, do they have 'chaps' in Statesville, North Carolina? Is he a splendid chap, or should Bertie be talking about a splendid old cork?

You have to hand it to Dame Slap, next she'll be explaining to Virginia that there is a Santa Clause … or at least a couple of grinches working tirelessly to shift wealth from the poor to the ever more richer ...

Not a single mention of the Donald. Mission accomplished! Dame Slap has completely forgotten the present, and has retreated into a golden age past … and long may she stay there.

For that matter, Dame Slap also managed to avoid any unfortunate trivia such as a world pandemic, just a slightly sluggish economy, which can be fixed in a trice by removing regulations and screwing workers …

Ah nostalgia, is there nothing it can't do?

And speaking of nostalgia, it's been a long time since the pond ran with Bjorn and his patented brand of climate science denialism, but why not, where's the harm?

That rhetorical "swamped by rising climate of alarm" will mean nothing to the pond if the Lomborgian wonder can't work a reference to the wicked 'global 'leet' into his opening sentence. 

How foolish of the pond to worry, how silly of the pond to doubt.

Yes, indeed, global warming is a real challenge, but we really don't need to tackle the problem in any meaningful way. In the Lomborgian world, everything works out for the best in the best of possible worlds, and a little adaptation will fix what ails ya …

Unfortunately in search of the unstated Lomborgian references (never bother with links), the pond went off to the 2019 paper by Bamber et al which perhaps the Lomborgian wonder was referring to, and sure enough there was a mention of 187 million … but what do you know, not a mention of 305,000.

So perhaps it was another paper, an ancient one from 2011 here, which explained how the world could simply go Dutch, and keep things down to a humble 41,000 or so …

If we assume protection with dikes and nourishment, the number of displaced people falls dramatically to comparatively minor levels of 41 000–305 000 people displaced over the twenty-first century. Hence, in contrast to the no-protection scenario, the problem of environmental refugees almost disappears.
The costs of protection are zero if we assume no protection. In contrast, the dike and nourishment responses have substantial costs. The incremental adaptation costs7 are estimated at roughly between US $25 and $270 billion (1995 values) per annum for 0.5 and 2.0 m in 2100, respectively. Dike costs dominate these response costs, and dike maintenance becomes an increasing component of the costs over time. This illustrates an important long-term consequence of a widespread protection response to sea-level rise that will continue to grow beyond 2100. In 2100, the relative mix of nourishment, dike construction/upgrade and dike maintenance costs is 36, 39 and 25 per cent; and 13, 51 and 37 per cent for the 0.5 and 2.0 m rise in sea level, respectively. The regional spread of these costs is quite variable with east Asia, North America Atlantic, North America Pacific, north and west Europe and South America Atlantic being the five regions with the highest costs ... In terms of avoided human displacement as a function of protection investment, not surprisingly, the benefits are highest in the regions with most threatened people: east Asia, south Asia and southeast Asia. It directly affects those on the coast, but also has knock-on effects further inland.

Indeed, indeed, a system of dykes to sort out the Ganges-Brahmaputra-Meghna delta will be something to see. How relaxed Bangladesh must be, seeing as how New South Wales has already demonstrated with impeccable skill how it's done …

Filled with enormous dyke-sustained confidence, the pond moved on to the adaptations to be undertaken, the actions to be done … and what do you know, it turned out to be a breeze ...

He never changes, does he?

The pond would be filthy rich if it had ten bucks for every time that the Lomborgian wonder explained that the most effect way to address climate change was to piss money against the wall (aka 'investment') in green research and development. He's even more one note than prattling Polonius.

Strange, the pond thought we had to surround the continents with dykes …which sounds a tad more expensive than a little r and d ...

Never mind, even James Murdoch decided he'd had enough of climate science denialism down under, and so all the pond can do is wish the Lomborgian wonder all the best with his dykes …

In which the pond pits the bromancer against the dog botherer, and spares a tear for our troubled Gracie ...

What a perfect pairing, what  a match made in heaven, the greatest reptile minds together side by side, and the subject the Donald's prospects, though why there should be an election is a mystery to the pond, when it would be much simpler to delay the election until his death, or perhaps just make him emperor for life and be done with it …

As a result of this blissful co-joining, he pond could put aside the usual climate denialist talk, save worship of Maggie and Ronnie Raygun for a Sunday meditation, and indulge in its cartoon fetish, and where's the harm in any of that?

Best of all, the pond has no dog in this fight … after all, if Americans want to vote back in a grifter and snake oil salesman, a narcissist and a loony, and thereby hand the world on a plate to the likes of Xi and Vlad the impaler, who is the pond to argue?

No, more to the point is to compare and contrast the thrust and counter-thrust, the point and counter-point of the two reptiles, and see who emerges the winner, the top dog in reptile analysis …

Please allow the pond's preferred contender to step forward first - yes the pond has its prejudices and favourites, and thinks the bromancer top reptile loon, infinite in faculty, noble in reason, in apprehension how like a god …but can he continue to show that the dog botherer is just a wannabe pretender, a loser and a dropkick?

Immediately the pond was conflicted. It had to mark up the bromancer for sounding very positive - the Donald can still win - but really "Is Trump cooked?" is hardly up to the best bromancer openings. Perhaps "is the Trumpian goose cooked?" or "is the Donald a stuffed chook?"

There are many other questions the bromancer might have asked to get things going …

But in the end it's a minor stumble, and it's on with the gigantic, fantastic, psychedelic unbelievable carnie show, and remember children, these days, it seems everyone must join the bromancer in getting stoned to the gourd, or sozzled to the gills … so drop a tab now ...

Why that gives the pond a chance to slip in an immortal Rowe, with more immortality just a viral sniff away, and a chance of infection to be caught here …

Now here the pond must again mark the bromancer down. 

Sure, he mentioned the Donald and his expert handling of the virus, but next up, he quotes Charlie Cook, and why tarry with the bottle washer when you could spend time with the chef at his eponymous site here?

Still, the pond will allow it, because hope must spring eternal to the reptile breast ...

Here the pond must respectfully disagree. It's helpful to think of the United States as a vast land of like minds, united in their love of weirdness …

Is the bromancer prepared to embrace the weirdness? Didn't he start off by talking of carnies, geeks and chicken heads in an unbelievable reality TV show?

Not really, the bromancer still thinks, deep in his own weirdness, that it's all just a matter of counting the numbers and doing rational analysis, and then the Donald has hope, above all hope …

Surely we've moved past the pig metaphor? Surely we should be celebrating the rule of the lizard people?

Now in the reptile yearning for the return of the Donald, there has to be an obligatory tut-tutt, say a reference to his crude, coarse and offensive manners, but that short billy goat buttism can be swiftly set aside by celebrating how effective it is to be a vulgar buffoon...

Indeed, indeed, the Donald has an incredibly credible track record, and he is weird in a very rational way …

And with the US economy doing tremendously well, with a massively blown out deficit and depression -like figures, it's time for the bromancer to do a summary of his potent arguments …

An incredibly telling conclusion. There's no doubt Joe is as soft as a wet wick on China, and what is needed is someone with the coherence, consistency and strength of the Donald …

 

 

   

  

There's absolutely no way Joe Biden could match this tremendous record, and by golly, the bromancer has created a huge mountain of insightful analysis it will be hard for the dog botherer to match ...

Ah, the pond sees the dog botherer's ploy and must mark it down, because it's just another sampling of the dog botherer's special skill ... fear mongering. Long ago the dog bother learned you just had to warn the aunts on the verandah beneath good old Adelaide wisteria that the eastern staters were coming to take away their first born, and they'd vote endlessly for the likes of Sir Thomas Playford ...

Fear a win, fear a loss, fear everything, just be worried ...

Yes, the pond has it on sound reptile advice that Vlad the impaler himself is just a figment of the imagination, an invention of conspiracy pedlars and there's absolutely no truth to the notion of Russian interference in US politics.

Sure Vlad might occasionally poison the odd dissident, but is that so bad? 

Everyone knows that Vlad has dreaded the day that the Donald might withdraw troops from Germany.

And now the Donald is fulfilling Vlad's dread fear, and so it must be asked, is there a bigger or better sign of the Donald's belligerence towards this fictional ogre?

As for stirring up trouble, who needs the Russians?

The pond hadn't spotted the dog botherer as a Vlad lover, but really that's the fault of the pond. 

Of course a strong man correspondent would love equally strong leaders, and if only the dog botherer had been around in the 1930s, how he could have set the world on the right path to the triumph of the will ...

Potent points, and no doubt the Donald has been persecuted, and we should all do a Herman Cain and wander around without masks - oh the competition for the Darwin award this year amongst Republicans is especially keen and challenging - but do we need to get so agitated?

Shouldn't we just call the whole thing off?

And so to celebrating the unjust, unfair, wretched persecution of the Donald, a man who is utterly unwilling to spread conspiracy theories and fake news, because as everyone knows, the demon seed is everywhere, and witches and succubi threaten, and who knows where the next threat might come from …

Sorry, the pond didn't mean to have a two cartoon break, back to the persecution of the Donald ...

Indeed, indeed, who would inflame the risk to democracy? Who would spread misinformation? Where does this antipathy come from? What would fact checkers do if they were given too much spare time?

Besides, surely we should heap praise and medals on the triumph of being The Most Mendacious President in U.S. History?

And so to the dog botherer's summary ...

Antifa? That's the best the dog botherer can offer in his conclusion, up against the bromancer's killer remarks about China?

Call the pond biased, call the pond confused, but the pond thinks the bromancer nailed it, and the dog botherer fell into the trap of believing the snake oil salesman. 

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and assessment of these two super reptiles, but surely the bromancer beat the dog botherer hands down with his killer assessment.

Of course there might be an embittered few who think the game was rigged, but surely that's the point, surely we should just play the game so that the GOP and friends, not least Chairman Rupert, can loot the country, and make out like bandits, while the mugs are left to munch on chicken heads in a carnie tent, and where's the harm in that? We all just want a little entertainment ...

The dog botherer  should take a few lessons from the bromancer - tut tutt about the Donald's tremendously effective coarseness, and then hold out the hope of him being a winner, without resorting to assorted Donaldisms, not least the threat that a few protestors are supposed to provide … save that sort of stuff for the aunts on the verandah in Adelaide.

Meanwhile, the pond just wanted to spare a thought for our Gracie.

In this troubled time, with the virus still raging and the light at the end of the tunnel seemingly extinguished, reptiles can get to feeling a little gloomy, and ask tricky, self-doubting questions suffused with despair ...

The reptiles understood poor dear Gracie's state of mind, and perhaps that's why they went with that image that suggests, conjures up, evokes, hints at a SloMo impaled on a cross …

Oh the suffering, oh the failure of the rapture to arrive despite the very best speaking in tongues. Is it any wonder that our Gracie is feeling gloomy?

Oh it's easy to see why our Gracie is so gloomy …

And what's worse, it's not just the Caterists with their paws out in search of a government grant. It seems everybody wants to avoid starvation and keep a roof over their heads. How selfish is that!

Poor, troubled, despondent Gracie … and yet surely there is hope. Surely she shouldn't give into the virus, surely she can rise to the challenge …

… and with that challenge in hand, tomorrow the pond will join the reptiles in a Sunday meditation celebrating the thoughts and deeds of Maggie and Ronnie Raygun, because the pond can never get enough shoehorning of new realities into existing ancient twentieth century ideologies ...