Friday, December 02, 2016

In which the pond visits that enemy of democracy, the bromancer, at the home of the enemy of democracy, the reptile Oz ...


The pond thought it might start with a Rowe so we could all enjoy the sight of democracy at work and what a hard-working democracy it is, and more Rowe here ...

It's just a scene setter for a sojourn with the bromancer ...


This morning the pond was marvelling at the sight of the Colonel Blimps at the lizard Oz harumphing about "intolerable rubbish", possibly from a leather chair in the club while savouring a port or a dry sherry, and that seemed a good reason to move on to the bromancer rabbiting on about the "enemies of democracy" ...

Now the pond has heard this chant many times before ... 

Back in the day, anyone who protested against the Vietnam war was an "enemy of democracy" ...

It's such a simple-minded chant ... the bromancer is the enemy of democracy, the reptiles are the enemy of democracy ...

It's a bit like the Donald deciding it'd be a good idea to strip citizenship from flag burners, no matter that this would be a far more sinister gesture than a bit of property destruction (the main basis for the pond's complaint. Forget the national symbol routine, flags aren't cheap, and the materialist pond decries the waste of all materialist things).

Google the notion of "enemies" and you can come up with all sorts of examples of tar and brush "enemy of democracy" at work ...

   


See how the bromancer fits right in with all dim-witted rhetorical flourishes ...though at least it makes a change of pace from "unAustralian."

If the reptiles keep talking this way, with an occasional break for "thought police" and "Orwellian", is it reasonable to wonder whether democracy is a state of total paranoi?

It even makes the pond think that the real enemies of democracy are anyone who peddles the notion of enemies of democracy ...

But if you begin thinking along those lines, who's the real "enemy of democracy"?


Ouch, that one hurts, and more hurty Pope here ...

Well with this preamble, it's time to get on with the bromancer's piece, which, it turns out, is disappointingly short ...

As Woody Allen was wont to say, there's two elderly angry white newspaper columnists at a Surry Hills bunker , and one of them says, "Boy, the columns at this place are really terrible", and the other one says, "Yeah, I know, and such small portions too", and that's essentially how the pond feels about its reptile reading life, full of loneliness, and misery and suffering and unhappiness and enemies of democracy, and it's all over much too quickly ....



Actually, if the pond might say, in a very polite way, it's the bromancer who's fucked in the head and should be unreservedly condemned ... 

A few protestors and he gets hysterical and runs up the white flag? Or even worse, puts up a fence?

That story here,  but this is where fear of fear has led us ...


Well yes, here, and if you think about it for a nanosecond, there are many high value targets around the joint. 

Any of Sydney's or Melbourne's city railway stations, Circular Quay, Federation Square, malls at peak shopping time, the Opera House - does it need a barbed wire fence too? - and dozens of other institutions, from art galleries to museums to police stations, schools, universities, all of which could bunker down, fortify, deny access and turn into remote inaccessible eeries for the 'leets to go about their business ...

So we fence off the entire country?

The more this happens, the more the terrorists have won, the more that we end up a gated community, and there's nothing more depressing than an American gated community, fortified to keep out the disadvantaged rabble ...

Once these things are put in place, it's a long hard road to claw them back.

It's a matter of symbolism, of course. The pond once walked atop parliament, and once was enough - let the sheep have it as their protest turf as they did in the old days with their massive rallies ...


By golly those sheep knew how to stage a protest on a lawn ...

It was much the same when the pond visited Uluru. There was no need to clamber up the rock but it was nice to know it was there, and without a barbed wire fence around it ... though the temptation to desire to herd all the jabbering tourists into a concentration camp was nigh irresistible ...

But a fence around the grass?

And the bromancer rabbiting on about enemies of democracy, when the most visible symbol of democracy is given the barbed wire treatment?

The pond would like to enter the contradiction in a site that's holding a competition for contradiction of the year here ...

The pond doesn't hold out much hope for the bromancer.

The competition is pretty fierce, including these lovelies ...



Of course we've been down this paranoia 'enemies of democracy' path before ...

Speaking of competitions, name the ancient movie with this vision of Sydney under siege and win the pond's movie buff hall of fame award ...



The recent demonstrations will have nil effect, and they were minor disturbances.

If the country can't handle a few protests without heading into dire rhetoric about 'enemies of democracy' we're in even deeper post-Donald dooh dah than the pond realised ...

The coppers took the sensible option in not making a big deal with charges, and if we wanted to go looking for people doing real damage to democracy, the pond could lead with all sorts of options ...


Oh indeed, indeed, and so to a song and dance to wrap it up, and without a single demonising rhetorical mention of enemies of democracy... 

Instead it's just pompous prats who amazingly manage to survive no matter how many pratfalls they perform... and do more damage to democracy than all its enemies might manage (and more whimsical Wilcox here ...)




In which the pond dons the rubber and splashes into the reptiles' 'intolerable rubbish' laggard stew ...


It's social issue day at the pond thanks to the reptiles ...

Oh sure, the reptile second eleven was out on the field doing their best to demonise and mock the human headline, bemoan the tattered Malware triumph, and dismiss the recent tax fuss as a rounding error ...


A rounding error? A hundred million bucks bribe to get Malware off the hook? Feel free to drop that sort of rounding error into the pond's bank account any time you like ...

But as always the pond was alert for news of the thought police ... what with the way that the reptiles routinely fling the words around with gay abandon ...


Oh look, it's a "thought police" with bonus "positively Orwellian"...



... and so nicely primed, the pond wandered off to a disappointingly short Oz editorial, which it will be remembered, from the splash above, was indignant about the right of parents to go on producing little bigots in an untrammelled way ...

After all, where would we be without children quietly exercising their right to remain bigoted?


Now at this point the pond might brood about the use of "thought police", since it's obvious that the best thought police in the business are the patrolling reptiles, always ready to pounce on the slightest deviation and dismiss it as intolerable rubbish, no doubt as a generous indication of their willingness to tolerate the intolerable ...

But instead the pond realised it was time yet again to celebrate the ongoing epic work of Rebecca Urban, herself one of the best thought police on the block, relentlessly patrolling in search of the slightest deviation from the norm, always ready to pounce on intolerable rubbish ...




Indeed, indeed. Of course it wasn't so long ago that good old-fashioned homophobia, the kind of jam grandma used to make, was still out and about and cocking a snoot ...


The rest of that story is here, but it's time to get back to good old thought policewoman 'Becca doing the story that got the Oz editorialist so indignant ...


Now it's easy to see why the Oz editorialist was consternated. 

There's far too much subtlety at work in this kind of deviance ... when it's much simpler to take a Leakian view of the universe ...


Oh what a clever, clever wag he is ... 

And so back to thought policewoman 'Becca ...


It reminded the pond of a Bolter story the other day, yet another one about apartheid in Australia, and uppity blacks getting an advantage over long suffering whites.

It was as good a sign as any that the Bolter was unhealthily obsessed with race and black-bashing and that he returned to these preoccupations so often that it hinted at an unhinged mental instability, above and beyond his standard form of racism.

The same applies to the harumphing reptiles of Oz in relation to homosexuality ... 

Their relentless insistence on a simpleton binary view of sexuality, despite all the evidence to the contrary in the natural world, indicates an unhinged preoccupation which suggests all sorts of alarming things about the source of their obsession...

Of course it must hurt to be called laggard thought police, but if you live the life and kill the trees in pursuit of your obsession, you should wear the label ...

And now, a little deviation for the pond, provoked by this Terror front page...



The pond immediately suspected it was the gay thought police at work ... who else would be clever and fiendish enough to make a top church lose its religion and wipe Jesus?

Sadly, by the time the pond got to the digital click bait version, the story had dropped down the page, and it involved a minor church and a single letter, and the reptiles were to blame ...


Well as the pond is fond of quoting Macbeth that to go o'er were as tedious as to return, and so it was time to go o'er ...

      

Now it was around this point that the pond realised it was in the middle of an alarming storm in a rather small teacup ... 

But still the mystery of who had demonised the hapless Xians remained to be sorted ...

            

It was all the fault of the Terror, which caught the Xians coming and then nailed them going?

That's it? That's the sum total of this click-bait which also took over the front page of the tree killer edition?

At the time the pond was writing, the story had produced just three comments, two from atheists, and this classic ...


The pond felt the immediate need to burst into song ...

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Loosing my religion ...

Throw in PC, which infests reptile pages as much as "thought police" and "Orwellian" and the pond began to think that the reptiles might soon succeed in bringing a Donald to power down under ...

As for the rest, nothing was sorted, nothing was solved in this sojourn with the reptiles, and of course the homophobic intransigence remains ... along with the leather and the rubber jokes and all the rest of the overt hatred ...

So there was nothing more for the pond to do than take a trip back in time to remember how long the homophobic bigotry has been going down in relation to another matter ... (and there's more recent Popery here) ...





Thursday, December 01, 2016

In which the pond marvels at the clever way Savva explains the Marie Antoinette agenda is taking shape ...


The pond just had to return to the Savva - even if we'd already wasted a couple of good cartoons this morning - because it's such a fun read ...

The pond has been following the fin de siècle, or last minute fin de Xmas-New Year federal pollie antics that have been going on in Canberra these backpacker days, with ultimatums, firm lines in the sand which are swept away in a moment by the incoming tide, grand-standing and carry-ons ... and much other nonsense ... as if it's impossible for politicians to work a day beyond the 1st December, such is their desire to escape Canberra ...

There's more than a smidgeon of this toffy essence of top-hattedd arrogance in Savva's reptile missive this day ...



Is that cartoon about killing the poor creature weird or what? Jung would have a field day with that one ...

Now it so happens that in its time the pond has done fruit-picking and corn-weeding and hay-baling and any number of other crappy jobs around the farm, and it didn't prove either morally uplifting or financially rewarding ...

But is Savva certain she's hit the right tone explaining how it's always been poverty street for bludging members of the lumpenproletariat, while doing an impression of a Monty Python sketch?

Is it the best way forward to encourage Malware to moan and whine about the moaners and the whiners? The keening noises from the reptiles and the Malware mob is deafening and embarrassing.

Why, it seems to sound  a bit like Professor Higgins, ... why can't poor people simply be happy going on being poor, and getting up at 4 am to start 25 hour day licking pebbles off tar road .... because that's the way it's always been. Harden them up a bit, let them do it tough ...

On the upside, it's a relief not to have to endure any more lectures about how the poor need to learn to be agile and innovative.

But it starts to take on the tone of figures familiar from ancient history ...


And the culture of grievance and dependency on the cross-benches just doesn't go away as Savva meanders on, no doubt reflecting the inner thoughts of Malware's sanctum of privilege, shocked that people aren't overjoyed that the Messiah has arrived to rule and save the country by making a totally cock-handed mess over negotiations regarding the backpacker tax.

Sure Shorten's been mischievous, but that's what, pace the onion muncher, opposition leaders do. 

The game is with the cross-benches and getting them onside. It can be done, it has been done, but this time ScoMo was spectacularly, singularly inept, and the only people likely to suffer are the poor bloody farmers ... and where was the top-hatted one while all this was going down?

Let's see Savva's guide to establishing good relationships with the cross benches ...


A slap on the bum?

A confused double-dealing rat? As opposed to the confusion that saw 19% as the last stand, until it suddenly turned to 15%?

Forget Shorten, you're dealing with the cross-benches Malware, and carrying on about the indolent workers and the bludgers and moaning about jobs Australians don't want to do won't cut the mustard - unless of course you intend to catch a train out to a berry farm and show the lazy bludgers how it's done ...

The pond would love to see that one go down.

Look, it's fine for the pond to make fun of the human headline... in his time, he's been comical enough ...



You'd be amazed how many people have turned up to view that walk down Hinchian memory lane ...

But this is a blog goddamit, not a government trying to fuck things up as hard as it can ...

And Malware, if you get your tone from Savva, it doesn't get any better in the last gobbet, still saturated with the punitive sense that it's all someone else's fault ... and by golly they're going to get a slap on the bum and a good licking, the lot of them ...


Yeah? Scribbling arrogant fetid nonsense about bludgers while enjoying a sweet lifestyle as a reptile who occasionally turns up on the ABC ... 

Or screwing up assorted industries before heading back to the eastern suburbs for a generous break?

Tell that to someone with their year's income rotting on the vine. See how you'd tolerate that, as you head off for a serve of imported avocado with crumbled Persian fetta on top, provided the Iranians give permission to keep on babbling about Persia ...

Well luckily there's always another cartoon, and if you head off to Moir at Twitter home here, you can buy the originals for a modest Xmas stipend ... no doubt right at this moment Malware and Savva have thrown away the Persian fetta, and are out fruit-picking to make enough moola ...





In which the pond wonders where the music's going, and shares an anxiety attack with the bromancer ...


The pond noted, with grim satisfaction, that RN had managed to get all sorts of musos offside, including the real Paul Kelly (not that shameless "Ned"), with the usual petition arising here, and the Graudian tracking the story here ...

In the Graudian story, the pond noted that someone called Chris Scaddan was described as ABC Radio's head of music, presumably in the same way that some Ministers of the Army like to call themselves Ministers of Peace. 

Wouldn't the ABC Radio's head of not music, no music here, here no music, be a better descriptor?

The pond started a long time ago with the ABC. That's what happens when you grow up in the bush. With the greatest respect to 2TM and its role in inventing the boondoggle of the country music festival - oh it's only a month and a bit away - it was a crap station, and the pond said that even while pretending loyalty and pocketing the summer holiday pay checks. 

The ABC hinted at wider worlds, even though, when the pond later turned up to work in the dullard reality of its bureaucratic bowels, the pond had a disturbing reality check ... and it seems that a shithouse management still lurks there with a complete disregard for listeners or tradition.

Never mind, the pond listened to Paul Gough yesterday, and caught a nice dose of personal, engaged radio as Gough wandered down memory lane with an old school chum. Gough, in his own way and despite his talk of western Sydney, sounds like a quintessential croweater music buff, tweeted about it in the usual way, and while the pond wasn't sold on the music, it did share certain prejudices about new forms of music with the chum, and was encouraged by the inclusiveness of Gough's response.

Just another day, with the pond doing light repetitive tasks on the computer and so able to listen, but absolutely not interested in using the computer to call up this kind of curated radio. Digital radio on the television? WTF?

And then the pond had an anxiety attack about Andrew Ford - if they came for Gough, would they also come for Ford? - and at that point the pond swore a sacred oath, to ensure that RN's splendid * ratings would be reduced to humiliating, farcical *ratings ...


Oh and RN too, don't forget RN.

Fools, it's not about the ratings, it was never about the ratings, it was about pandering to the 'leets ... because Australian musos are just such a filthy rich bunch rocking up to RN in their Rollers. So start pandering to the 'leets ...

And if that isn't a good enough segue to the reptiles, the pond must be losing its touch ...


Yes, it's a leisurely Thursday, and why not a psychodrama, which is cliché city 101 when it comes to the Donald, only a step removed from the pond mentioning the satirical UnReal, even if the second series nuked the fridge and the pond turned to Westworld

Only one day after today and it's the weekend, and besides, there's only so much salivating Savva the pond can handle, even on a quiet day ...


Look, with the best will in the world, how is it possible to read beyond that splash - as if little Johnny hadn't pork-barrelled like an out of control bandit - when there's a David Pope having enormous fun about the PM's agenda taking shape?


Is it the statue, is it the demented look in her eyes, or is it the softer slurry?

Whatever, there's more papal savaging to hand here, but what else is there to be said? That statue celebrates the man who built broadband out of copper and managed to lose his agile and innovative leader only a few days ago  ...

So naturally the pond had to revert to the bromancer. 

Amazingly, when the pond clicked on the story, the paywall didn't kick in and the pond went straight to the bromancer story.

Oh reptiles, reptiles, giving it away for free at airports, now giving it away for free online?

Free. We should be careful what we wish for ...

It turns out that the Donald has reduced the bromancer to a state of high anxiety, unsurprising in that the bromancer yearns to love the Donald, but is worried about being abandoned in the Donald's madhouse.

Even worse, the bromancer has managed to misread or get wrong almost everything that's happened in the Donald's rise to power, but says it all with such conviction and authority that his stunning denunciations of his own misguided scribbles have an astonishing credibility.

It makes for a particularly beguiling form of neurosis. A bit like hearing Tony Perkins talk about the virtues of stuffing animals...


Indeed, indeed, how much better Europe will be when we can get back to good old fashioned nation state rivalries and right-wing populism and the joyous times of the two world wars ...

Of course what the bromancer means to say is that everything the reptiles have written about and wildly supported - balanced budgets, free markets, free trade, trade deals like the TPP - have been swept away by the tide of bigotry and climate science denialism the reptiles also enthusiastically supported.

By a loon who traded on draining the swamp, and then put a Goldman Sachs partner in charge of Treasury, and amongst his first policy proposals is the way he's going to make it easier for Wall Street to resume its looting its looting and rorting ... (paywalled, content must be googled, but the short version is Dodd-Frank is gone and there'll be nothing to replace it).

One comment on that story broke Godwin's Law, Orwellian clause, but still ...


Oh endless faith. And now we all get to see the same movie ...


It's always fun to see the barking mad reptiles realise there are even more barking mad folk out there, who listened to the siren song of the barking mad reptiles, and then decided that there'd be no harm cranking it up to 11 ...

And so back to the anxious bromancer, though truth to tell, anyone who thought the onion muncher was the future should be locked away ...


Oops, perhaps the pond should have run an Aldous Huxley quote ... 

Never mind, as we're in the madhouse, perhaps a madhouse quote instead ...


And cluck their unhappy tongues and shake their heads and suggest so very delicately that ...

RN is fucked.

Oh well, perhaps it's not the biggest issue facing the world ... but couldn't we at least listen to a little music while the Titanic steams towards the iceberg,  and the Donald organises the lifeboat for the owner?

And so to a Rowe, and more Rowe here ...