Wednesday, April 26, 2017

In which the pond tends to the Devine while waiting for the war of the worlds to break out on the radio ...


Having presented the Dame Slap case for raising le doigt, it seemed only fair, right and just to present the Devine case for Malware ...

The pond suspects an ulterior motive on the part of the Devine.

After all, by the pond's count, we are only five days away from the next radio broadcast by the onion muncher, and who knows what rumblings, what divisions, what hostilities and deep anger that might produce, as the onion muncher takes to the mike and brays away...


With the lord of undermining, sniping and white-anting getting ready to speak, it's time for fortifications and for sand-bagging, and being the Devine, a little gas-bagging too ...


Indeed, indeed. You can't blame Malware for being deliciously agitated.

His dream job as leader of the opposition was snatched away from him, as if Utegate and Godwin Grech somehow had something to do with him, and then the usurper, a pathetic, risible onion muncher, totally stuffed up his deservedly short time as PM ...

Who wouldn't love Malware, the man who resurrected copper and brought it into the twenty first century?

But the pond doesn't mind doing spoilers or gazumping the Devine, since what followed the opening splash was tedious beyond belief.

How did her urgent pleading go down with her demographic, admittedly as barking mad as any readership Dame Slap might boast about ...


Oh dear, that's most discouraging and dispiriting, and we're only five sleeps away from the baying hound roaming the 2GB moors and terrifying the faithful ...

By golly the pond is hoping it will be as great as the great Adenoid Hynkel's finest speech ...




But enough of the distractions, the pond must get on with the Devine shoring up the battlements and sandbagging the drawbridge ...could we start with a snap of a cheesy, smirking, copper-loving loon?


No wonder the Devine case for Malware went down with her demographic so well, since what she seems to be saying is ...


... and we know what happened the last time the sauce bottle was shaken ...but has she got anything else?


The funny thing? Well the small and very noisy subset of "delcons" is actually the Terrorist base and the Devine base and the Bolter base and the lizards of Oz base, a braying bunch of rabid wolf hounds ravaging any hapless wet Liberal in their path ...

So when we get to the notion that the government is doing OK, by any fair assessment, the only response is to get out the Jaffas and throw them down on the stalls ...


Indeed, indeed. It's impossible not to sense a rising panic in the Devine, and the thought that after only five more sleeps, a voice will take to the radio, and rouse the alarums and explain to the citizenry just how bad things really are in this troubled land ...


By golly, that's grim, not just the lame newsreel humour, it's the munching on razor blades and eating light bulbs ...

Any last thoughts from the Devine?


Why can't they just get along?

Hmm, the pond has already been there this day ...



Let's hope it ends as well as that little excerpt. Only five more sleeps to go ...


In which the pond stays loyal to Dame Slap, despite many convincing distractions ...


Before getting down to serious business, the pond wanted to pause to admire the wording in that reptile splash, "for the first time since that fiery phone call next week."

Splendid stuff, and for the first time since that legendary blog posting next week, the pond can feel the readership surging ...

It set the tone for the diligent, reliable reporting by that most excellent hack, the urbane 'Becca, always on hand to spot and bully lesbians, gays, TG folk, and ... why feminists of course, infiltrating like perverted pinko commies into schools ...


Eek, hairy armpit feminists, possibly in overalls and wearing boots, and even worse in a collective. Could matters get any direr? What next, ritual rich-bashing?


It's easy to see why the pond feels, on any given reptile day, a deep sense of abundant riches, only matched by a deep sense of exhaustion and depression.

But the pond is loyal, and so this is Dame Slap day, even if there was a cruel juxtaposition to be made ...


Cory steals a rabble of Xian fundamentalists to give himself street cred, and is rewarded by Dame Slap encouraging voters to raise the finger?

She urges the raising of finger at the very moment of his most astonishing triumph?

How can this be, how is this fair?


Oh not to worry, it's just the perfidious difficult French, and we know all about them ...why, they don't even know how to use le doigt ...



Of course calling for leaders of conviction in politics isn't new. One popular German figure of the 1930s knew what was needed ...

An essential characteristic of what are called the great questions of the time is that thousands undertake the task of solving them and that many feel themselves called to this task: yea, even that Destiny itself has proposed many for the choice, so that through the free play of forces the stronger and bolder shall finally be victorious and to him shall be entrusted the task of solving the problem.

And yet Dame Slap spurns the noble convictions of noble leader Cory ...

Time then to read the Dame Slap runes ...



Oh dear, the useless onion muncher and the laggard Malware, and no one to hand to talk about the barking mad culture wars as the way to ensure a decent job in a stable society.

It's values, values, values, all the way ...


(here)

Okay, the pond will bite. What sort of fuckwit vicar's daughter would talk about Xian values, and then propose that these are the values held by people of other faiths ... or none ...

A no faith value laden recovery?

That's about as valueless and as meaningless as the pond crying in the wilderness  “Why can't we work out our differences? Why can't we work things out? Little people, why can't we all just get along?”



But what of Malware?

This very day the Devine has written a rousing defence of the man and cried out for people to give him a chance, give him a fair go ...




How about it Dame Slap? Should we give Malware a fair go, in the same spirit that saw him give copper a fair shake of the sauce bottle in the digital 21st century?



Of course on Dame Slap's land at the top of the very far away tree, a genuine and sensible conviction politician is code for someone who thinks the United Nations is using climate science as a devious way to establish world government ... or possibly it's a Chinese conspiracy. Who can say for certain?

Well we know what happened when last the world turned to genuine and sensible conviction politicians of the Dame Slap kind, back in the 1930s. But the United States is currently in the middle of a similar experiment.

For a report on how things are progressing, the pond turned to David Rowe this day, with more Rowe here ...



Ah, the joys of conviction politicians, and raising the middle finger in Dame Slap style ... and so the search for a Donald down under must take on an even more urgent, feverish tone, with even Cory not able to satisfy Dame Slap's lust for life amidst the culture wars...



Tuesday, April 25, 2017

In which the pond contemplates Malware meeting the Donald, and failing the Noonan test ...


The reptiles are wildly excited about the chance of a meeting between the Donald and Malware, all the better because it might happen with lots of military hardware in the background, and who knows, a strike against North Korea just for good luck ... 

There's nothing like a regional war to get the polling back on track ...

It comes then as some fair irony then that this day the reptiles should have purloined a piece from the WSJ ...



The pond knew at once that Noonan knew that when it came to anyone being a lickspittle - craven and submissive and cavorting like a nymph with the Donald - that our very own Malware was just the man for the job ...

Given the way that Malware smarmed all over Pence, imagine Malware attempting to follow Noonan's stern injunction to staff and GOPsters ...



Indeed, indeed, the least the pond can do for reptiles is turn them into shoes and hand-bags.

But this is very unfashionable talk, this talk of pigs ...

It is of course impossibly idealistic and unreal what Noonan proposes ... that's not how it works with dominant pigs of the Orally kind, nor is it how it will work with Malware when he comes close to the Donald, nor is it how staff or Republican politicians have dealt with, or will deal with, the Donald ...

Besides, is there any discernible difference in Malware's and the Donald's ability with maths?


(More here).

The GOPsters have failed Noonan's proposed test right up to now, and Malware has crawled with fixed smile and gritted teeth over glass and abuse in the hope that the Donald will bail him out of Manus, and the mutton Dutton making a lying fool of himself. 

What on earth makes her think this will change?

But it makes for a grand read, or a grand folly of hope ... as Candide as anyone might hope to come across ...


Say it true and keep walking? 

Why the notion that abortion-denying, climate science refusing, evolution disbelieving fools of a fundamentalist kind could say true and keep walking is right up there with Chance the gardener ...

They should line up and get fired? But Spicer is already better known than Comical Ali, and already has his epitaph etched in stone ...






Never mind, why on earth did the pond think it would get any deep insight from the lying American press, and the lying WSJ? 

Better just cut to a few cartoons, starting with an old Pope, more Pope here ...






In which the pond turns to the Caterists and Dame Groan ...



The pond is never sure whether the reptiles are mocking the Donald, or mocking themselves for admitting that they're the Donalds of down under journalism ... how else to explain why they're lumping Donald with alternative facts when it was Kellyanne that devised the meme? Credit where credit is due ...


Well when it comes to facts, alternatee and otherwise, the pond always goes elsewhere ... including a trip to The Monthly to read Paddy Manning's woeful tale of the gigantic NBN disaster: Network Error, What will be the cost of a patchwork NBN?, aided and abetted by shockingly stupid reptile misreporting over the years and monstrous Malware stupidity ...

The pond had promised never to mention its fluent German "Die Optus Die" again ... but there it was, popping up ...


Tough, mug punter losers.

There's much more in this epic tale of folly, stupidity, bad decisions, outright lying and massive delusion ... not least the dissembling malign Malware who made sure of monstrous failure ...


There's a lot more in the read about this sorry tale of bungling on a massive scale, which will ensure that many wallow back in the copper broadband dark ages ...

But enough of actual insights, because it's the pond's duty to scour the reptile runes each day, and today is Caterist day, though the pond likes to think of it as Colonel Blimp day ,as it inhales the Caterist hot air and thought bubbles ...





Whenever the pond reads that a Malware policy makes sense, it's forced to ask how it is that the country ever allowed the British to head down under, and stick out a paw for a handsome taxpayer-funded government grant ...

Is the pond being xenophoboc? Will the Caterist offer an explanation?



Oh just fuck off back to Britain you gormless git.

Oops sorry, wherever did that bit of xenophobic bigotry come from? The pond is supposed to have a furrowed cosmopolitan brow but nativism of the most pagan kind comes easily when confronted with a Caterist ...

Is it wrong for the pond to get upset when a fuckwitted, well-heeled cosmopolitan spouts bullshit about cosmopolitans, especially when the siren sounds, warning of an import to the colonies sounding off ,while holding out the paw for a federal government taxpayer grant?

But enough of putting the interests of existing Australian residents in search of a grant before a new blow-in, blow-hard Pommie bastard arriving in the colony to give lectures about dinkum-ness, while scooping up a handsome stipend ...

Why should the pond have to suffer through a lecture about the internationalist mindset, when dammit, its ancestors were giving flour and sugar and tea to Captain Thunderbolt, a needy character ignored when it came to government grants and welfare ...



Indeed, indeed, and is it possible to imagine anyone living in a different world, emotionally and linguistically disconnected from the country in which they live, than a fat Canberran cat holding out paws for a government grant? A grinning fat cat as it slurps on its chosen cream? 



The pond never gets tired of the ritual grand display, but should the pond waste empathy on this sort of out of bounds no goodnik?

Nope, the tragedy is that this separate development is likely to continue on, with no comfortable ending. The Caterists will always come first when it comes to scoring a decent grant ...

Meanwhile, Dame Groan was rabbiting on about similar matters, and as a recorder of reptile thoughts, the pond thought attention should be paid ...

For a moment, judging by the header, the pond thought Dame Groan might have been calling for the removal of followers of camel and goat herders and their silly biblical and Koranic texts ...and for once there might have been a meeting of minds between pond and Groan ...



Sadly, it seems Dame Groan was intent on celebrating Malware ...



It's easy to make a joke about goatherders ...but up Tamworth way there were other concerns ...

Goat, deer and turf farmers, shearers, wool buyers and classers, stock and station agents, butchers and small goods makers, horse trainers and jockeys — they are all slated to be cut from the list of eligible positions under two new foreign skilled workers visa programs. The Australian Meat Industry Council (AMIC) said of the 95,000 workers here on the visa 20 per cent, or 15,000, work in meat processing or further up the supply chain in small goods production or at butchers' shops.

AMIC general manager Patrick Hutchinson said it is seeking urgent Government meetings. "We weren't consulted. This will put us in a position where we'll see costs increase as the pool of people we can access will decrease," he said.

The Victorian Farmers Federations' Pig Group president John Burke labelled the move a "most stupid decision" due to the difficulty it will create for rural employers. It will make it harder to source the people we need," he said. "It takes nearly 15 to 18 months to process a 457 visa application, so if the Government toughens up the rules again it will make it nigh on impossible to do it. "Then we're stuck trying to find local staff who are cut out for this industry." (ABC here).

And there's the rub. No one thought to consult them, while the policy changes were plucked out from the government's bum in a desperate attempt to improve the poll numbers and defeat the onion muncher, the real reason for all this nativism and nationalist blather gone wild amongst the reptiles ...

The problem, of course, as with the jobs taken by backpackers under 417, is that not many people want to work in abattoirs or go fruit-picking ...

Does any of this give Dame Groan a moment's hesitation or introspection?

Are the reptiles home to alternative facts?

Can anyone spot rhetorical questions?


Uh huh, well the pond is prepared to bet that Malware's bold new policy setting will be beset by adjustments to the adjustments, as it becomes clear that this hare-brained half-arsed adjustment was rushed out, not to fix acknowledged problems with 457 but as a pathetic way of doing a nativist, nationalist bump in the polls...

It turned out to be as useful as the chatter about Australian values ... said values not including a desire to work picking fruit or degutting pigs in an abattoir ... though at least it kept the cartoonists busy ...





In which the pond is blessed by an abundance of Moorice ...


What with the Enmore road RSL club long gone and turned into a hotel, complete with trendy hipster street art ...


...these days the only sign of RSL life in the immediate vicinity of the pond is in Petersham, where the good times continue ... and what better way to memorialise the dead than Poker VII?


Poker, so much more dinkum than two up ... sic transit gloria, with the change somehow reminding the pond of that Australian classic, Wake in Fright ...



Speaking of movies, the pond recently watched a Spanish film on which a remarkable number of Euros had been spent ...


It's not the best of movies ... handsome drone shots and great locations in equatorial Guinea and the Canary islands aren't enough of a compensation for flaws in the drama, and it seems not to have even scored an English-language wiki, though the Spanish one can be google translated ...

But the story of the siege of Baler is intrinsically interesting and that does have an English language wiki ...

Long after the Spanish sold off the Philippines to the United States, a small garrison holed up in a remote church kept fighting a valiant, entirely useless and meaningless action in defence of the lost Spanish empire ...in much the same way that some Japanese soldiers kept fighting in the Pacific, unaware that the war had been lost ...

Throw in the pond recently reflecting with the Canadians on the battle of Vimy Ridge ...

The battle was the first occasion when all four divisions of the Canadian Expeditionary Force participated in a battle together and it was made a symbol of Canadian national achievement and sacrifice. Recent historical research has called this patriotic narrative into question, showing that it developed in the latter part of the twentieth century. The nation-building story only emerged fully formed after most of those who experienced the Great War directly or indirectly had passed from the scene. (wiki here)

... and that's all the pond has got to say this day on the celebration of the folly and stupidity of war ...

Luckily, as always, the reptiles have charged up, trumpets blazing, to save the day ...

Being thoughtful reptiles, they didn't land with just with your ordinary, common or garden lightweight Caterist column, but with a giant for all ages, a genuine heavyweight battleship of the Bismarck-class ...



Now it's probably fair to say that Moorice's best days as the world's greatest climate science is behind him.

But such is his genius that he's in a continual state of reinvention, and there seems no end to his capacity to play a dolorous Chicken Little ...



Such is Moorice's genius that he's worked out a much better line. "Welfare is making the sky fall ... it hit me on the head ... I'm off to tell ScoMo ..."



The pond is full of admiration. It takes a special skill to move from the suffering of the onion muncher to wealth inequality to the inordinate suffering of the taxable rich to the balancing the budget ... and then to the real culprits ... all the bludgers with their paws held out, naturally excluding grant-loving Caterists, tax avoiding News Corp, and assorted fat cats of the Moorice kind, those indignant millionaires railing about their losses and turning to petulant Peta for their salvation ...

It's a timeless routine ...


Of course there will be a point at which the sky falls ... some think it might even have something to do with climate science ... or the Donald that Moorice so loved as a breath of fresh air ...

Thank the long absent lord that Moorice is on hand to correct this sort of nonsensical thinking, and to sheet home the blame to where it belongs ... welfare!

Remember Venezuela ... and sssh, whatever you do, don't mention the way that collapsing oil prices are certain to affect Australia, because Australia has built its entire economy around its massive oil exports ...


Indeed, indeed. It goes without saying that the pond vividly remembers how that massive welfare state, the United States of America, collapsed in 2008 because of welfare ...

What's that you say? The United States might have had other problems in 2008? And thanks to the Donald, those days are likely to come again sooner rather than later?

Never mind, the stopped clock is right twice a day, and that's the reason that Moorice mentioned cuckoos in his header ... though the pond must apologise to anyone expecting actual mention of clouds and cuckoos in the body of the text.

That's the way it goes with Moorice ... so rich and abundant full of overflowing metaphors that he can toss them around in fecund cuckoo fashion.

In the same way, the pond and Moorice can select their own version of Chicken Little ... and provided the rich get to eat the poor, all will be well in the garden ...

  

Let us hope there are decent provisions for condiments for the rich in the upcoming budget ...and if the poor run around shouting that the sky is falling in, well, really, who cares. 

It's their own fault for being losers, bludgers and dropkicks. How much cleverer they have been if they'd only learned how to blame it all on government, while hauling down a generous stipend as a chair for a government organisation ... like the ABC ...

Meanwhile, on another planet, or at least another page of the lizard Oz ...


Another day done and dusted, thanks to Moorice, more doom and gloom, and now a chance for the pond to marvel at the way that the mutton Dutton serves as a bright flame to which cartoonist moths are drawn, with the latest Wilcox, and more Wilcox here ...