Sunday, July 23, 2017

In which Akker Dakker makes a late move for Sunday attention as one of the world's greatest climate scientists ...


The pond was outraged, not so much at stumbling on a 404 whereby the reptiles tried to show that they had a sensa huma - and so up to date too, dragging Bob out for show - but by the notion that the reptiles of Oz were hate media central.

On the weekend, they give up the ghost by Saturday night, and by Sunday, the Terrorists are clearly hate media central ... just look at the line-up ...


And that got the pond even madder ... the pond had looked at the Devine, a fine hater in top Chuck-hating form, and petulant Peta, an exceptional Malware loather, and yet routinely Akker Dakker gets overlooked ...

And yet Akker Dakker is one of the world's greatest climate scientists, even if he's too modest to make the claim himself ... while helping the world dream of a career at Vogue ...


You see, you don't just get climate science, you get brainwashing and Stockholm syndrome and Patty Hearst and F. Lee Bailey ... and somehow it adds up to this ...


Oh dear, where did that come from? 

The pond of course wants to proceed on the level of rigorous scientific examination of the data, in the way that Akker Dakker himself explains the climate science conspiracy and hoax that will see the United Nations use the weird notion of a changing climate to introduce world government by Xmas ... though perhaps it would help the scientific discussion and the general tone if we showed guns trained on a Swedish bank, as this sort of illustration always makes clearer the implications of climate science ...


There, you see? Akker Dakker's on to the claque like an Xmas cracker...

Of course the pond can't match Akker Dakker in his rigorous use of scientific language. 

Stockholm syndrome, Kool-aid, global hysteria, manipulative compromised scientists, mass suicide, Snowtown, the Beaumont children and weird crow-eaters are the sort of elegant arguments that would adorn any peer-reviewed paper ...

The pond likes to think of them as units, or boilers - count them - wherein Akker Dakker blows his coal-fired, steam-laden stack ... (don't forget to shovel a little white powder into the furnace so it can burn all the brighter).

Now as we proceed further, deeply into the science, perhaps an illustration of the most demonic form of hellish suffering ever devised by inhumanity should be shown ...


This impeccable set of arguments is based on impeccably elegant scientific research, which has seen many a compromised climate scientist abandon the field when confronted by Akker Dakker's rigorous science ...


There's little more to be said, as Akker Dakker patiently explains that the future is coal, coal, coal ...


Thank the long absent lord that this carefully considered collection of well-refined arguments makes such a potent case ... and that future generations will be able to look back and thank Akker Dakker for refuting climate science and making the planet safe for dinkum Aussie coal, oi, oi, oi ...


It's tremendously reassuring that the Donald and Akker Dakker are of like mind and like science and like status as being amongst the world's best climate scientists...

Eat your hearts out reptiles of Oz, you've a long way to go before you can claim that you're greenie-hating central ...



In which the pond swallows petulant Peta whole, before heading off to help good old Henry with his bucket ...



There's a singular pleasure to be found in reading the thoughts of an incompetent who helped rush a government to oblivion, especially when the incompetent routinely embarks on a 'don't do as I did, do as I scribble' routine for the Terrorists on a Sunday ... but given the repetitious nature of the routine, the pond thinks it's best swallowed in a couple of small print gulps of petulant Peta ...

You see, it's the same old thing about Malware folding like a pack of cards to the mutton Dutton, and the right getting agitated about him being a better Snap player ...


Now the pond has previously noted that the onion muncher has swayed in the breeze, swinging whichever way it suits the moment, because he's a professional liar, but perhaps it's worth recalling what he said not so long ago, written up in various places ... including the reptiles themselves before they sent it off to google cache ...


It was over at Sky too, here, and it's a handy thing to read before heading back into the dissembling mosh pit with petulant Peta ...


Heaven forfend that the pond should suggest that anyone would deliberately play politics with national security ...



... but it is a reminder of why petulant Peta is good for a laugh ...


Is that how an underwhelming Liberal was put in charge of such a large and all-encompassing portfolio? Like the country?


And so to a catch-up for the die-hards ...

Of late the reptiles of Oz have taken to agonising over what it means to be liberal, as opposed to Liberal, as opposed to silly, and it led to one of the few zingers from Comrade Bill that the pond has enjoyed when he joked that the Coalition is more interested in arguing over "what Robert Menzies meant in a speech he gave 75 years ago" than attending to the world around them ...

Cue that old pond favourite, Henry "there's a hole in the dry bucket" Ergas scribbling in the weekend Oz ...




Henry doesn't just head back to Ming the Merciless, Henry goes the full hog and heads back to Disraeli ... because what better example, given that Disraeli spent three quarters of his time in parlimanet in opposition (Greg Hunt it here)...

Good old Diz ... the pond could almost forgive him except for having to waste all that time on the bloody Corn Laws ...


And so to the sublime instincts of an ancient people ... with a whiff of Camus to bring it up to date, or at least into the twentieth century ...


For no reason at all, the pond suddenly had the notion that this was the time and the place to burst into song. The pond had no idea why this was necessarily a matter of time and place ... 

There's a hole in the onion-munching bucket, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza, 
Then mend it, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, mend it. 
With what shall I mend it, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? 
With a straw, then, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, with a liberal straw. 
If the liberal straw is too long, 
Then, dear Liza, dear Liza? 
Then cut it, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, cut it. 
With what shall I cut it, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? 
With a liberal knife, then, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, with a liberal knife.
If the liberal knife is too dull, then, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? 
Then sharpen it, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, sharpen it. 
With what shall I sharpen it, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? 
With a liberal whetstone, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, with a liberal stone. 
If the liberal stone be too dry, then, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? Then wet it in a liberal way, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, wet it.

It seemed as useful as thinking about Camus in the current circumstances, but Henry wasn't interested in any of that wetness spreading about ...heading on back to the future, to work out what Ming the Merciless really meant ...

The pond could feel the end of the song coming on:

If the liberal stone be too dry, then, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? Then wet it in a liberal way, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, wet it.
With liberal water, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, with liberal water. 
How shall I fetch it, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza? 
In a liberal bucket, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, in a liberal bucket. 
There's a hole in the onion-munching bucket, 
Dear Liza, dear Liza, 
Then mend it, dear Henry, 
Dear Henry, mend it.

And after all that there's just time for a Wilcox, with more Wilcox here ...

And what about that Rowe cartoon which scored a mention on The Insiders this morning ... and surely deserves another mention on the pond, with more Rowe here ...



In which the pond humbly suggests a good stoning might help out prattling Polonius and Miranda the Devine ...


With the Donald reasserting the divine right of kings (and emperors, seeing as he's a Napoleon lover?), the pond was forced to sin-bin prattling Polonius to Sunday on several grounds.

For one, his reptile splash seriously missed the point. 

It's reasonable to expect those standing for office to have allegiance to the rules and regulations (in this case constitutional) involved in standing for office - or at least to understand them and to act on them, in a way that apparently befuddled and confused several Greens ...

But what to make of "it's reasonable to expect those standing for office to have allegiance to one nation"?

Uh huh. How about the office of head of state? 

As usual with Polonius, it was a slow burn, with much prattling, preening and statements of the bleeding obvious before getting to the crunch ...


And around that point, Polonius jumped the shark and nuked the fridge, as he so frequently does ...


Well the pond can play that game of distraction too.

The pond voted 'no' in the 1999 referendum, on the basis that Australian voters should be given some sort of right to have a say in the process of installing the Australian head of state. Almost any sort of precaution could have been taken - rigorous limitation of the role, pre-selection of candidates by parliamentarians - but that wasn't little Johnny's intent. He wasn't interested in compromise, a way forward, or for the Australian people involved, and Malware was such a fuckwitted wanker and useless tosser, little Johnny got what he wanted. He wanted to fuck it up, and so he did ... thereby adding the republic to the NBN as chief amongst Malware's many crimes ... done like a Sunday dinner by little Johnny, and in the matter of the NBN, by the onion muncher ...

But back to the absurdity of Polonius's point. It's not to do with whether Australia becomes a republic.

It's to do with the existential absurdity of blathering on about it being reasonable to expect that office holders are the citizens of just one nation, while everybody in the country still swears allegiance to an alien Pom ...

Dress her down to complete and irredeemable irrelevance as Polonius might, a British citizen remains Australia's head of state, a public office, but apparently it is unreasonable to expect that office to be fulfilled by a citizen of just one nation ...

It wasn't so long ago that the pond could have also been banging on about appeals to the British Privy Council, because it took until 1986 to shut down the last vestiges of that nonsense (Greg Hunt it here).

By one of those rich absurdities of life, many still here amongst us were born as British citizens, with the idea of Australian citizenship only finally established in a formal sense in January 1949 - wiki it here ...

This is not to defend the Greens who made simple, easily preventable mistakes - the pond would have chortled just as hard if the onion muncher had been caught out (and devotees of that birther yarn are convinced the British authorities have conspired to help him out).

But it is perfectly right and proper to remain bemused in a post-ironic fashion at the notion that fidelity to the country is essential for office, while the country still has a Pom serving as the highest officer in the highest office in the land ...

For a start, sorting that out would put an end all sorts of Royal nonsense of the Malware kind ...


Speaking of the divine right of kings, the Devine was out and about this day showing exactly why an interest in Royalty requires an infinite capacity for stupidity, and a mindset that never moved beyond the 1950s ...


Oh ye ancient cats and royalist dogs, will there never ben an end to it ...though the different google splashes hinted at a certain confusion and ambiguity ...


Say what? The Devine's heard the pond's call about having a Pom as the highest office holder in the land and gone full bore Republican? Charles should not end on the throne, Charles should never be King?

Naturally the pond got it completely wrong. It was just a chance to flog more Tony Robbins' nonsense - banner ads must be going cheap at the Terror - and rehash old tedious Royal memories ... of a kind done to death, and also done with a lot more flair and style in shows like The Queen, with Helen Mirren ...

Ye ancient cats, was that in 2006 and still in 2017 the Devine is banging on about it?



There must be some other reason for this nonsense being regurgitated by the Devine?

Oh wait, here it comes, News Corp has tree killers to flog, and the Devine is just the crowd warmer, the warm-up comedian hired to get the crowd in the mood ...

Sample gags: "Your mama is so dumb she thinks Taco Bell is a Mexican phone company," "Your average Polonius is so dumb he thinks the Queen is a dinkum Aussie, " "Your Devine would have been really handy promoting Hitler's diaries" ...


Oh fuck, here we are back in women's magazines land, which everyone knows should only be read when standing in line at the check-out. 

If you want to understand the generational trauma inflicted on children by parents who hated each others guts, yet stay living together because it was the right thing to do, just hop into a time machine and re-visit the 1950s ...

Oh okay, the pond woke up grumpy, because the clock radio clicked on with James Carleton blathering to a Jensenist on God Forbid ... even worse, that was followed by a loon insisting that sexuality was binary, and homosexuality was unbiblical, and so wicked and so worthy of an eternity of hell, and so forth and so on, and yet when confronted with the scientific evidence that there were shades of grey, saw it as an irrelevant distraction ... and yet still Carleton served up soft ball after simpering soft ball, and still they pondered why faith in ancient camel-herder thinking might be becoming a hard sell ... because sounding like Daesh on the matter of homosexuality is such a sensible position for hardliners to take ...

By the time the pond had put on a load of washing and hit the shower, it was still fuming, and then there's the Devine using divorce as a rod for Chuck's back ...


You cannot trash your wedding vows without suffering consequences?

So a third of the country is going to suffer consequences, apart from all the usual, which is what to do with the property, and the emotional damage and the hurt and the pain, and the children who had nothing to do with the split but take on the blame?



Data here,  but why should the pond be surprised? It's just another example of the Devine heading back, not to the 1950s, but to the ancient days of the camel herders wanting to smote mightily and hurl stones ...


Hmm, death for Chuck. Is it time for a stoning? It would sort out that head of state issue ...


More stonings at the Skeptic's Bible here, but suddenly the pond was in a good Sunday mood ...

Yep, stone Chuck to death, and put a dinkum Aussie adulterer on the throne and all would be well ...

Meanwhile, in the land of the devine right of kings, the adulterer in the highest office in the land is enjoying himself as a caring, sharing dad ...






Saturday, July 22, 2017

In which the pond joins Dame Slap in throwing Jaffas at the bromancer ...


Indeed, indeed ... huge ... and sad ... and yet huge ...


Here, and while it might have only been because there's nothing like a watching a gigantic train wreck or a huge auto pile-up to charm the eye and dazzle the brain, it still helps explain why the Australian cottage film industry has never been able to match Hollywood ...

They know how to do spectacular train wrecks and auto pile-ups ... and we'll never see his like again, with few others up there with his incredible comedy timing .... well, just a few ...


 ... and what is the pond left to contemplate down under?


Okay, it's good enough as far as it goes, like a Chopper or a Snowtown or an Animal Kingdom ... strange how crime always manages to move a few units, and speaking of crime, if there's crims in Dame Slap's air, there must be a plod, and what better plod than the mutton Dutton?


Now the pond immediately realised this was going to be a Dame Slap biggie ... of the same famous kind as her love letters to Lord Monckton, and her deep appreciation of him for exposing the United Nations conspiracy to use climate science to introduce world government (some still think it might be here in time for Xmas).

But the pond could sense there might be a few gaps, of the "others will debate the policy implications" kind, and the pond sensed that the time was right for one of its infamous cut and paste William Burroughs' scissor jobs ...

Wheel in the bromancer, way better than the kraken ...


It was the perfect fit!

There was Dame Slap gushing and gooing over the mutton Dutton, and there was the bromancer worrying about a few dimples on the baby ...

Hah, you see NY Times? We might be low budget, shoot it all in three weeks, and the showreel might look pretty skimpy up against your top performer ...



Sure Spicey's greatest hits out him way out of Dame Slap's league, but Dame Slap's a real trier ... you know like Dame Edna Everage in The Marsupials The Howling III ...

And speaking of howling, hear her sing the siren song of the mutton Dutton, complete with a happy snap of her lead when he began his blockbuster appearances and looked vaguely human, rather than his later successful roles as a mutant in the Marvel franchise ...


Okay, it might only be television, but who can't remember that Law and Order sting?

As for the rest, the pond almost collapsed in tears at the humanity of it all ... the valiant battle against taking the X from Xmas, the family man, and oh, the suffering at the hands of those fiends at Fairfax and the ABC ...

How could the bromancer possibly come back? What could he do to match the sheer lachrymose sentimentality of Dame Slap in full verbal diarrhetic flower?


No doubt worthy points, all of them, but it's a bit like sitting through an ancient Australian mini-series dedicated to a Bryce Courtenay novel ...

The Dame is hot, and any moment the pond expects her to begin channeling the mutton Dutton, his spirit weirdly seeping through the ether - did she build her keyboard on an ancient Indian cemetery? - so that she might speak in an eerie voice of his deepest thoughts ...


Watch out liberals, Burkey's got another classic heading your way ...


No wonder that the bromancer's struggling inside the octagon, if the pond might be allowed to change genres and formats for just a moment ...


Oh what a pedant, a spoilsport and a bore. Talk about an interminable dull movie, as long as Cleopatra. What's the chance he wants to replace Rex Harrison as Julius Caesar?

What we need is a classic bit of speechifying to sway the soul ...


Dutton, Dutton! Come on, slap him on page 49 of GQ!


Incredible stuff. Even Rex Reed shed a tear and he had no taste whatsoever ...

In the interests of fair play, the pond should let the bromancer wrap up. After all, we've sat through three acts,  and they did once manage to make a movie about Lloyd's of London ...


Dear sweet long absent lord, no wonder the bromancer can't get people clicking through the turnstile ... it's going to be a dud, a box office flop, a turkey? A genuine Ishtar or Shanghai Surprise, with George doing the tunes?

It's true some think that critics can kill movies, even if the pond thinks it's the word of mouth that does it.

So there's probably a few that think that the minute Dame Slap started to channel the mutton Dutton, his career was almost over, and next thing, he'd be off to China like Matt Damon to make an epic like The Great Wall ... talk about a dud ...

But that's to look into the future, though the pond suspects it will be looking back on this particular movie plotline with considerable pleasure when it comes to charting the mutton Dutton's career ...in much the same way as the pond keeps wondering if world government will arrive by Xmas ...

Meanwhile, please remember ...


... but consolations are available at the candy bar in the foyer ...


And now there's just time for an old featurette already made redundant by the latest Washington plotlines ...