In which the pond starts off an epic, bruising weekend forced to choose between sick bed and nattering "Ned" ...

  

As the pond's strength fades and its ability to reptile wrangle fades with it, this weekend presented a superhuman challenge, which the pond inevitably failed …

There was the 'shift' to the 'radical' 'curriculum', with the urbane Becca 'extremely' 'alarmed', and there was Chip and Dame Slap on 'identity' 'politics' and then there was the crisis in the 'federal' 'government', and just the amount of 'inverted commas' needed left the 'pond' feeling 'exhausted' and wanting to spend the entire 'weekend' in its 'sick bed' …

In such cases, what's needed is a healthy amount of doom-saying and endless braying, and as nattering "Ned" had been blessed with the cult status of a Lobbecke, the pond knew where it had to start on the Everest climb …

Indeed, indeed, how unfair is that? The reptiles had endless hours of fun braying about comrade Bill's hypocrisy on such matters as 44(v), and now ScoMo does a comrade Bill, and some cynical wretches point it out, and how unfair is that?

Why it's enough to prompt nattering "Ned" to natter on for hours and hours ...

Dear sweet long absent lord, the unutterably mysterious answer to the question that many people are asking, but really no one should be, because let's face it, between telling the truth and lying, what's a politician to do, except maintain an enigmatic, impenetrable, abstruse silence? 

Does government get any more Sphinx-like?

This will require more hours and hours of nattering "Ned" exegesis ...

Judgment Day is coming?! That's why the pond loves nattering "Ned" so …

And then there's the dreadful business of the white-anting and the undermining and the wrecking and the sniping … and worse still, nattering "Ned" himself suggests that maybe Dutton should have been referred, but it turns out that ScoMo is a gutless wonder (as they used to say in Tamworth in the old days) ...

Well it's been jolly good fun, yet another voyage on that nameless ship in company with the Ancient Mariner, and yet even those tortured voyages must come to an 'end' … but not before 'Ned' dishes out some needful advice to ScoMo ...

It is madness to attack the Turnbull legacy …??

Say what? The pond can make no further mention of the NBN?

But the pond knows what to do in such cases. 

Let madness and chaos descend on the land.

Break glass and send in the Grand Inquisitor, the man who can sniff out a heretic at ten paces, the stern man willing and able to spot deviants, and shame them …

Yes, the next episode in this Saturday matinee will feature … Polonius, keeping a sharp eye on wretches who fail the 'loyalty' 'test' …

And so to a jolly Rowe cartoon to wrap up this first encounter with reptile fear, hysteria and loathing, with more Rowe wrap-ups always available here …

In which the pond heads into the weekend in good spirits thanks to our Henry ...

The pond decided to settle for our Henry's 'rivers of blood' moment as the best, most relaxing way into the weekend …

 

The Speccie mob weren't up to scratch, no Flinty, no Giles, just a few blow-ins and wannabes …

The pond thought about spending time with the Pellowe person, but it turns out he's a blogger with his own YouTube channel … and if the pond has learned one thing from the reptiles, bloggers are unutterably vile, while social media users are more hideous than a plague of cane toads ...

It's true that the pond maintains a covert fascination for the trainwreck known as Brexit, much loved by the Speccie mob, and thanks to YouTube logarithms, stays in touch with snippets from the BBC and 4, and even ITV, but how does a country having a meltdown remotely compare to our Henry's meltdown?

Indeed, indeed, herrenvolk, volksdeutsche, völkisch, volksgemeinschaft, lebensraum, damned be the untermenschen, and so on and so forth, though our Henry is wisely discreet about an even more troubling and disturbing issue …

Never mind, we've been there before and we'll go there again, many a time …

Sorry,  the pond should get back to Henry having his anxiety attack about the Swedes ...

Here the pond feels like doing aside.

Thanks to those infernal YouTube logarithms aforementioned, the pond stumbled across a movie, Basil Dearden's 1959 Sapphire, which the pond hadn't thought about for a nanosecond since watching it long ago in Tamworth …

The pond had only the vaguest memories of what it was about, but it turns out that it was all about race relations in Britain in the 1950s, dressed in the guise of a murder mystery …

It's astonishingly quaint, and yet, like many old movies, extraordinarily revealing … and for those already bored with our Henry's incipient hysteria, here's the link …

It's not high def, but there's a young Michael Craig doing a racist cop, long before he turned up to grace local ABC soaps …and the pond should issue another warning. There's an attempt at jazz (of the ersatz Dankworth kind), an expressionist chase in the streets, much bad acting, and a dive into the dark underbelly of London, with much talk of being 'coloured' and a few token liberal gestures… (link up only until the rights holder notices)

And now for those determined to slog their way through the rest of our Henry, howling at the moon in fear, a final gobbet, this time with locally inflected hysteria about the Islamics … though those who wonder about our Henry's brave assertion that anti-semitism played no role in Sweden prior to the arrival of Islamics might like to do a Greg Hunt and wander off to this report of the swing to the right in the 1930s ...

Ah, the old cultural homogeneity routine, code and dog whistling for the white nationalists …

Not that our Henry is providing easy answers, like smearing people for daring to be different or urging a return to the good old days of the White Australia policy …

We've been there before, and here we are again …

And just as a reminder of a certain weird circularity which would please the Speccie mob no end …

Who'd have thunk that our Henry would end up in that territory - stop the world, or at least Get Australia Out - but it seems it's something of a trend in Murdoch la la land, as they inspire controversy in all sorts of countries…

Somehow there's an echo of all of it, of all the populist far right, racially charged and inflected hysteria, in the infallible Pope's cartoon about recent events … with more infallible Pope here …

In which the pond is distracted until a rolling Stone arrives to shout at clouds and climate science ...

 

The pond usually thinks of Malware mid-morning, when the broadband drops out for a little while … a ritual that poses a threat if the pond has been working online and failed to save its work every thirty seconds or so …

But the pond also thinks of Malware on a daily basis thanks to the lizards of Oz, though it can already count a number of digital fish and chip wrappings it's managed to avoid …

By golly when Malware sticks his fancy cane into the reptile nest, what an agitation there is … with Barners gone full paranoid, and wild-eyed talk yesterday of a "dud" candidate …

So what happened?

What do you know, ScoMo rolled, an allegedly a dud candidate, and petulant Peta in fractious, sour, sulky, snappish mode on the front digital page this day…

ScoMo rolled, the mutton Dutton agitated … and Malware sounding pleased …

….but at least the pond was saved reading the dog botherer, bizarrely pandering to Malware …

Um, why was the dog botherer so keen to get rid of Malware, him and the broadband man being at one with allegedly dud candidates?

Even better, it turned out that the pond's favourite cartoonists were thinking alike, with more Rowe here …

But before getting on to the infallible Pope, the pond must honour its mission statement … 

Somewhere in the lizard Oz surely, there's an angry old man shouting at clouds or anguished about Western Civilisation, and showing exemplary understanding of climate science …

Eureka, but what an anguished choice… until the pond noticed the illustration accompanying the "throw many stones" man …

A Lobbecke! The rolling stone had been blessed with the cult status of a Lobbecke … and the blessed Lobbecke had designed his image to suit a phone. Say no more ...

Around this point, the pond began to wonder about the commissioning process in the lizard Oz.

Did the reptiles ring up the Stone, and say "um John, we've got the daily slot available … you know, a rant about Paris and climate science and such like. Do you think you could rustle up some words for Friday? Keep it under a thousand?"

Or did the rolling Stone ring up the commissioning editor and say "um, hi, have you got a slot available … I feel like ranting about Paris and climate and such like, and could rustle up a handsome, reasonably short set of words shouting at said clouds by Friday …"

Do they get into qualifications? You know, like, "what do you actually know of climate science?" What happens if the response is "actually sweet fuck all, but that's never stopped me in the past"? 

Does the reptile dance with joy, "sounds like you're a tad over-qualified for a shouting at clouds rant in the lizard Oz!"

And so the rolling Stone kept on rolling … and please allow the pond to be blunt, anyone who says "let's be blunt", is likely to be one of the duller knives in the kitchen drawer ...

Now by this stage, the pond almost feels guilty, since the rolling Stone represents the sort of grotesque caricature that the pond had imagined even the reptiles had abandoned, or left to the Speccie mob for a Friday …

Who on earth imagines that the retort that carbon dioxide is the source of all life on our planet constitutes (a) a definition of the many sources of life on our planet - what, the sun gets no credit?, or (b) a meaningful insight into climate science.

Yes, we're beyond the valley of the full-blown stupid, in yet another stunning example of lizard Oz climate science denialism, one the reptiles even thought worthy of the cult status of a Lobbecke …

How full blown shouting at clouds does it get? 

Well when you get someone stomping their foot and fulminating at "all the global warming nonsense", you're not very far from "bloody young folk and all their tom-fool nonsense …"

The pond yearned for "flibbertigibbet" or "chatterbox" or "blabbermouth" or "cockamamy" ...

Yes, appeal to the luddite dinosaur, or the world will be ruined ...

Meanwhile, on another part of the planet, there was the Pope at one with Rowe, while catching a scene in New York, with more omniscient papal insights here …

In which the reliably savvy Savva sounds a tad gloomy ...

 

The reptiles are still brooding about Malware, and the mutton Dutton is feuding - what a hoot for Mr Potato Head to talk of dignified conduct - what, a coward's castle assault on anyone within earshot? - and could it be happening to a nicer member of the deep north swamp?

What joy, with the Bishop zigging and zagging around on the back bench, and the feud shaping up nicely, to put the Hatfields and the McCoys or even little Johnny v the Peacock to shame.

It'll probably take years for them to get over it, though the inverted commas around "colleagues" was bizarre, even by the usual paranoid reptile standards …

What the fuck? You leave the game, and even if you stay in the party, you don't keep your fair average colleagues, you end up with "colleagues" …

There's a world of mystery in a the whirl of a galaxy in the cream of a coffee …

...but it's nothing compared to the reptiles playing turf wars ...

All the pond could think, as the reptiles tried to blame it all on Malware, was how thoughtful Malware was being, offering ScoMo a handy club which might be dragged out at any time to give the maddened mutton Dutton a belt around the chops …

And so to a particular Thursday treat … 

The savvy Savva always had the goss direct from Malware, but what now, with ScoMo the new speaker in tongues?

How would she cope? Sadly it seems there are questions to be asked, and a certain gloom-laden pessimism infiltrates the talk of Malware's "colleagues" ...

And there's the particular pleasure in the Savva …

… her observation that he's there because he's there because he's there, and the NEG isn't there because it isn't there because … onion muncher, Erica, mutton Dutton, yadda yadda …

And then came even more subtle hints of disunity and unhappiness ...

Indeed, indeed … after the worshipful, delusional bromancer how bizarre to see talk of a broad church … one apparently in which the rapture and speaking in tongues might sit harmoniously alongside climate science, and the freedom to consign gays to an eternity of hellfire might be guaranteed the holy stature of Commonwealth scripture …

Oh it's going to be a splendid couple of months, even without the benefit of the October 20 Wentworth by-election …

It doesn't really much matter who wins that outing - if there's a major slide against the vote Malware scored last time, the hounds will be out and about howling at the moon … (and for the record Malware scored just over 62% of the vote in 2016, meaning there's plenty of room to chop into the Liberal vote - Greg Hunters go here).

Well the candidate will be chosen soon enough - it might even be another woman lining up for a dose of party bullying - but ScoMo has already disgraced himself by pretending everything recently said by women in the party was just meaningless blather …

See nothing, hear nothing, off to a good start ...

How easily new emperors get themselves dressed without needing any clothes … and how nice that the man should be offered the consolation prize of a seat in the Senate…

The trouble of course with the Savva style is that she relies on the sly nick, and the occasional slash to the cheek with a rapier, and so the sense that the government is in ongoing deep doodah requires a little patient decoding ...

It's not the usual pond style, but then it would be unfair to expect more than one bromancer posting in a day ...

Luckily, to help keep the pond's quota of reptile silliness up to scratch, the lizard Oz editorialist offered this bit of advice today ...

How cheeky they are. How outrageous. This from a bunch of Donald lovers, the man who has done more for lying in politics than an entire generation of politicians …

Imagine someone in the ABC scribbling "the lizard Oz must resist shaping news" …"news is gathered, not faked, in the usual manner of Fox News and the Murdochians …"

They couldn't handle it.

It seems Andrew Probyn is their new target for a bullying campaign while the news shapers at Sky are dumped on the bush in a bid to train up a new generation of far right ragbags …

The end result? The reptiles are so far up themselves in their news shaping that apparently they don't seem to know what they've been doing these past few decades … so here's a few cartoons to remind them ...

In which the bromancer is a blessing for the pond ...

So they successfully bullied the women to be silent about the bullying, and while the parrot got plucked, the Caterist got away with his quarry whispering, and Malware is beavering away at the mutton Dutton …

What blessings this day, but how they pale for the pond up against the sight of an uxorious bromancer transferring his love to a new idol …

Yes, idolatry is all the go, and ScoMo is the fatted calf …

Oh stop it, stop it, the pond can feel the excitement surging in the loins …

Such is the so and the thusness of the bromancer being blessed by ScoMo,  the pond feels there's almost no need for editorial comment …instead the pond feels like Cleopatra indulging in a bath of sour donkey milk …

Now the bromancer has been blessed with the cult status of a Lobbecke, but did the pond detect a certain wry tone in the 'toon, with the speaker in tongues showing a remarkable ability to walk on water?

Could Lobbecke himself be part of the "ambient culture" that poses such a threat to the delusional bromancer?

The pond was startled by the use of "ambient culture" as a concept, until it stumbled across the phrase in a Patheos rant here …

In a celebrity, media-driven, personality-celebrating culture, many of us care more about whether someone has an iMac, drives a flex-fuel car, and likes our favorite magazines and cult blogs than whether they stand for life and truth. This seems true of many Christians. We’re voting and living based more on mood, on feeling, on impressions, on personality, than we are on lasting, durable, rock-solid things, things that have shape and form and character. Are we doing the same thing in our churches? Are we bowing to ambient culture and letting “the cool” or “the impressive” lead us simply because they are cool or impressive (or whatever else)? If so, we are in danger. We’re not to identify with passing things, but eternal things; not shifting sands, but foundations that stand all of time’s tests.

Oh they're so wet, these Xians, so threatened and resentful, with their nerdish sense of exclusion, and with their code words, "ambient culture", as if talking of "ambient temperature", for the heathen, the alien, the materialistic, the atheistic, and all the Satanists destined for an eternity of hellfire …

And now see how the bromancer tiptoes around what Xians really think … well Xians who have at least the first theological clue, the ones who don't nod off for a quick nap in the pew on a Sunday ...

Pentecostals are completely mainstream and their doctrine is orthodox?

Each time the pond reads the bromancer, the pond is astonished at how he can make the barking mad sound like a reasonable nsight …

The pond could spend all day, racing all over the full-to-overflowing intertubes to dig up the many tracts by Catholics and 'straight' Protestants consigning  charismatics and pentecostalists to hell for their many heresies …

Some are fairly obvious about it …

Accompanying the so called “speaking in Tongues” the Charismatics will often be found screaming the name of “Jesus” or rolling on the floor, or making ecstatic utterances frequently unintelligible to listeners. In the history of the Church such behavior has always been condemned. In fact in Scripture it is only those who have been possessed by devils that can not restrain themselves from acting in such a manner. That is why most theologians agree that one of the signs of demonic possession is the speaking in strange or unintelligible tongues. (here)

Some contain poignant tales of being caught up with pentecostalism before escaping to the safety of a belief in Sunday cannibalism in the Catholic church …

Pentecostals believe in the in-filling of the Holy Spirit characterized by the gifts of the Spirit, especially speaking in tongues, prophecy, and healing. Unlike Fundamentalists, AGers teach that sanctification is a process that continues until death. They are millenarists who believe in the "rapture" (basing this doctrine on 1 Thess. 4:14-16) and a literal thousand-year reign of Christ (Rev. 20:4-5). 
Fear of being left behind at the rapture was one of the things that kept me in the AG for so long. I didn't like the AG services when I first started going to the church. The style of worship was alien to me; I thought it bizarre and irreverent. The congregants shouted and threw their hands in the air, babbling incomprehensibly with tears streaming down their faces, as the song leader whipped them into ever greater fervor through hand-clapping, foot stomping music that led to a cacophony of spontaneous worship. (here)

And so on and on …

One thing's certain. The pond guarantees a splendid time for anyone who sits through a full-blown speaking in tongues, rapture laden pentecostal service done in old-school style. It's not quite up there with a snake handling service, but it's jolly good fun ...

As usual, the bromancer doesn't get it quite right, and it's really quite wrong of him to all the credit for modern pentecostalism to William Seymour, as if being black and the son of freed slaves gives the movement the right Christian feel …the vibe, you might say, if you were thinking they were dreaming ...

Another big early mover in the movement was Charles Fox Parham, and he was just your average barking mad Iowan …go Hawkeyes ...

It was Parham who associated glossolalia with the baptism in the Holy Spirit, a theological connection crucial to the emergence of Pentecostalism as a distinct movement. Parham was the first preacher to articulate Pentecostalism's distinctive doctrine of evidential tongues, and to expand the movement. (Greg Hunters go here).

Pentecostalism is at the top of the heap when it comes to the delusions that grip religions in these rapture-laden, fundamentalist times, with a particularly virulent form of homophobia at work, turning up in countries such as Uganda (The Conversation here)… not to mention all sorts of incomprehension when it comes to science, and not just climate science ...

Why does the bromancer dissemble and distort such elementary matters and joke about Gregorian chant v rock music?

Well in the pond's experience it's because Xians are as able and as capable a bunch of hypocrites and liars and shapers of reality in their own image as any secularist, materialist or atheist  doing the rounds…

Take that bromancer blather about the old hostilities and rivalries between Xian denominations having substantially disappeared …

On the surface that might sound true, but that could only be because Xianity is on the downward spiral in some countries, so the wretches feel surrounded and mutually persecuted...

But put an angry Sydney Anglican in the same room as a fundamentalist Catholic theologian, mention Mary or some other bit of nonsense, and watch the theological fur fly …

These are competing brands, intending to build up the flock by hook or by crook …

Don't get me wrong, I strongly believe that understanding who Jesus is and what he has done for us clearly through the Bible is the way to go in evangelism, but perhaps it isn't the first thing to talk with Catholics about. Think about how Paul began talking to the Greek philosophers in Acts 17. He started talking to them using the way they thought about God first. Catholics and Protestants think about God in different ways and if we realise this, then it makes evangelism a lot easier. On the whole, Catholics get to know God by belonging to a church and the experience they have there. Very few Catholics make a rational decision to become Catholic; they are born Catholic. Catholicism is who they are, their identity, their culture. We see this when we go doorknocking and get told, "No thanks, I'm Catholic". (Sydney Anglicans go here).

Save the Catholics, and maybe they could throw in a complimentary woman as an inducement ...

The pond loves it, but if anyone thinks that peddling a barking mad religion and preaching clap happy sermons in the guise of political and social harmony is going to keep ScoMo in the lodge, they probably also think that the rapture is just around the corner …

Luckily, there are raptures and then there are raptures, as the parrot discovered with his own peculiar form of speaking in tongues, and with more rapturous Rowe to be found here …