Wednesday, February 21, 2018

In which a late Moorice is better late than never ...



And now the pond is truly, deeply mortified.

How has it come to this?

How has Moorice, one of the world's greatest climate scientists, been marked down, and narrowly squeaked in as the third reptile voice for the day, turning up in the pond's extra special late edition, though this means appearing in the twilight hours when only a few church mice will gain the benefit of his infinite wisdom …

It's simple enough. While Moorice's advice is sage and deep, and wogs and other imports will benefit, it can be summarised succinctly.

If you want to live here, become like Moorice. Think like Moorice, be Moorice. Take Moorice as your exemplar, hero and avatar.

If you must, you can be like the onion muncher, but be aware there's a cut-off point for heroes. Perhaps you could be like Cory, or the hasty Pastie, or at a pinch, Kev the libertine demanding the right to have affairs with staff ...and for the ladies, the Sydney Anglicans are always on the look out for complimentary women, guaranteeing a spot amongst the deeply pious …

And that's about it. If you can't manage to turn yourself into an angry old white man shouting at clouds, you're in deep trouble and you probably won't ever fit in …

The pond has thought of instituting a ban on all that foreign food and all those foreign clothes and all those foreign cultural traditions that infest the country … yes, pagan Easter bunny and pagan Santa, you're on notice …

Assimilate, don the aluminium foil at the mad hatter's tea party, or get lost …



Damn you, filthy vile Islamics … why can't you fit in, and learn to molest little children in the proper Catholic way?

Even worse there's that attitude to alcohol, which is damnably disrespectful and unfortunate.

Here the pond must pre-empt Moorice and flash back to the good old days and what it took to be dinkum ...

 

Yes, back in the day, in an ideal world, the idea of being a wog was best understood and written by a middle aged white man of decent and proper Anglo-Celtic extraction …

Dammit, a dinkum Tamworth boy … as ADB noted here

John (Patrick) O’Grady (1907-1981), pharmacist and author, was born on 9 October 1907 at Waverley, Sydney, eldest of eight surviving children of Victorian-born parents John Edward O’Grady, clerk in the Department of Lands who edited the Agricultural Gazette of New South Wales, and his wife Margaret, née Gleeson, whom O’Grady described as ‘five feet two inches (158 cm) of Irish-Australian pugnacity’. He grew up in suburban Waverley, until the family took up an isolated mixed farm on the Peel River near Tamworth. There he received nightly lessons—including Latin—accompanied by corporal punishment from his disciplinarian father. He also imbibed Anglophobia, Catholic morality and Irish sentimentalism. First attending school aged 12, from 1923 he boarded at St Stanislaus’ College, Bathurst.

Unless your average imports hie themselves to a sheep farm on the banks of the Peel, they're doomed, doomed for all eternity to be outsiders …

Tell 'em Moorice. Let's get back to the days of a lamb chop and three veggies, though none of your fancy foreign veggies with their poncy bloody airs.

Kale? Who let that into the bloody country? Some jumped up deluded hipster with a dose of the multiculturals …

Just remember, Moorice, a humble pensioner, is out in the 'burbs, doing it tough, learning to survive on the streets, coal his only friend and companion as the rioting get closer by the day ...



And so Moorice spoke, replete with all the usual bigotry to be expected, and what a fine speaking it was … in much the same way as back in the 1950s, the Anglicans berated the tykes, and the tykes berated anyone they could find …

It's a bullying world, no doubt about it, and Moorice and the onion muncher are as fine an example of bigoted bullies as might be found in this world …

Oh wait, scrub that, there are a few who are better at the sport …






In which Dame Slap also goes off the deep end ...


The pond makes no apology for making Dame Slap follow nattering "Ned" on the day's progress …

As a traditional conservative of the first water, the pond has long held that 女は三歩下がって(or put it another way Onna was sanpo sagatte), or perhaps more simply, a woman should walk three steps behind her man …

This is the only proper and decent way to avoid what is apparently known as the Nikushoku-kei joshi (肉食系女子/ carnivorous women)


And now, having waited her right and proper discreet turn, it's time to unleash the Dame ...



Now for some reason, the reptiles have favoured Dame Slap by giving her the Lobbecke of the day, which will send his many fans into a cult frenzy …

Is that Barners doing some kind of reverse riff Handmaid's Tale?

Is it bonking Boris?

And whoever it is, what on earth does it mean? Are men now so hamstrung, demeaned and demoralised that they have gotten themselves to a nunnery? Are they mere pawns and chattels of monstrous dominant females?

Look at the pitiful, pleading eyes ... Did Bambi ever look so innocent, so pure, so tremulous?



Actually, the pond is ever so pleased that Dame Slap mentioned Boris, because for some time now it has wanted to link to Martin Fletcher's epic portrait of the man in the New Statesman


It can be found here … 

No spoilers, but Fletcher also has it up at his own site here

What a fun read, though it has to be said that it was written last November, and here we are in February and the joke's not over, unless it's the sight of Boris going for a jog with Julie …

  

Oh dear …

Well that's the pond's quota of feeling vaguely nauseous for the day, and it's on with Dame Slap getting most agitated, and showing nattering "Ned" he doesn't have a monopoly on hysteria ...



Indeed, indeed, Malware is an epic bungler - look at his NBN - and sure enough the dirtiest, filthiest minds in Canberra have already turned to the task at hand …


Barners not the only one sleeping? What, they're all asleep at the wheel?

Oh sorry, the pond should have read the fine print …


Of course Cory doesn't actually name anyone … sly innuendo and rumour-mongering is more his strength … but the pond agrees it would be much better if members of parliament were restricted to having sex with themselves …

 

Onanism, with or without spilling of seed, is surely the way forward … and Cory's a fine role model.

And now it's back to Dame Slap, giving Malware a firm spanking for attempting to play Big Brother … though it's most peculiar that she wants tighter rules to manage conflicts, while at the very same time bemoaning a ban …

The pond wondered how that might work. 

Here's a tighter rule to manage conflicts - Ministers should not have sex with a staff member - but please, do not mistake this for a ban. 

If you can keep it out of sight, it will surely stay out of mind, and no-one, not even Cory will notice ...



In all, it's been a most gratifying day for the pond.

Nattering "Ned" in an apoplectic, apocalyptic condition, and Dame Slap in her usual state of outrage, as it seems that Malware has entirely banned sex everywhere … 

Yes it's not just Ministers, Malware's just like, or possibly worse than, that Xian god who kicked Adam and Eve out of the garden just for getting a vague idea that sex might be an issue …

And if that's as bad as it gets in Australia, then maybe things aren't so bad at all. 

The country's certainly not as fucked as the United States, which is now truly and comprehensively fucked in so many ways it has become unimaginable … though Rowe gives a hint of it this day, with more Rowe here



In which nattering "Ned" goes too far for talk of him merely shouting at clouds ...



The pond woke up to the garbled sounds of the ABC, assuring the pond that Barners had moved off the front pages, and there was catastrophic news about the right to lose money on the nags, fair and square …

The pond's first thought was to cry "Barners, why hast thou forsaken us? Is your squabble with the sandgropers the last Barners' news for the week?"

How foolish of the pond to listen to the ABC … an organisation which has degutted the world at noon, while simultaneously offering switch-off blather about human resource activities in companies …oh RN isn't the station it once was ...

You see, over at the lizard Oz, the Barners' industry continues apace, and as usual, nattering "Ned" is on the case, and in his usual way, "Ned" has produced an apocalyptic crisis from Barners' bonking …

It's the business of "Ned" to discern the end of the world in a grain of sand … but this time he goes over the hill and far away, so that the pond's usual talk of him shouting at clouds - perhaps with a Simpsons cartoon - simply isn't up to the job.

In his spare time, the pond suspects "Ned" pours over endless charts and graphs to discover the end times and the conservative rapture …




And so to the revelation of the day, and nattering "Ned's" shocking discovery of the crisis in conservatism …



The pond makes no apology for going to nattering "Ned" first, for he is indeed first amongst the reptiles… where else is it possible to read about Barners' as a Shakespearian tragedy?

Some might think it's just a rather traditional and typical Tamworth yarn.

A rustic lad, following outmoded practices approved by Rome, indulges in a bonk without proper protection, and scores a bub… so it's gone since the town began, and so it will continue ...

Not so for Ned, with his chatter of the artificial, enticing world of power ...

...He would be kept deputy PM: 
How that might change his nature, there's the question. 
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; 
And that craves wary walking. Keep him deputy PM?--that;-- 
And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, 
That at his will he may do danger with. 
The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 
Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Barners, 
I have not known when his affections sway'd 
More than his reason. 
Apart from one magic Tamworth moment
But 'tis a common proof, 
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; 
But when he once attains the upmost round. 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base Tamworthian degrees 
By which he did ascend. So Barners may. 
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel 
Will bear no colour for the thing he is, 
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, 
Would run to these and these extremities: 
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg 
Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, 
And kill him in the shell.

Or some such thing. Beware the ides of March.

The parallels with Julius Caesar are so enormous the pond has in the past hesitated to mention them, but thanks to nattering "Ned" it is at last out in the open …

And now to killing him in the shell, or at least at the clambake …


Oh the hand-wringing, oh the fear, oh the crisis, as the onion muncher and Barners and other rough beasts slouch towards Canberra …and only "Ned" is on hand to note the hydra-headed populist monster ...


Now the pond can sense a few sceptics might just be muttering "Barners is a typically Tamworthian naughty boy … don't get your knickers in a knot … there's plenty more where he came from", but when he's on a portentous roll about doom and gloom and signs and portents and omens, there's no stopping "Ned", always ready to go the full chicken little ...



Dear sweet long absent lord, does anyone at the lizard Oz ever suggest that "Ned" destroy his kidneys in a traditional Australian way?

  

Momentous cultural shifts?

The cult of victimisation? Now Barners is a victim for giving it a good Tamworth go?

The progressive vanguard? Because teachers and priests are certainly not in a power imbalance.

Etc, etc, and endlessly etc?

Routinely "Ned's" seemingly infinite capacity for hysteria reduces the pond to a state of numbed silence. Or perhaps a single ejaculation.

Sheesh …

Well for those who don't want to risk a kidney, the pond suggests a daily dose of papal wisdom, with a regular supply of a tablet a day available here



Tuesday, February 20, 2018

In which baby boomer Caterists get befuddled by the demographics they love ...




Please excuse and pardon if the pond gets the obvious point out of the way right at the get go …

Of course millennial economists don't have a clue about the real world …

This is the way the real world works …


Remember, in the real world, it's important to hold out the paw if you want it to be greased ...

Here, millennial economists, do something useful and go out and promote democracy …


Now learn millennial economists! That's how baby boomer newspaper columnists handle the real world ...

And so, as a distraction from the ongoing Barners affair, it's on with the real world Caterists …




Every par thus far is rich with "cash in the paw" taxpayer grant irony, isn't it, but the pond isn't going to get into the discussion in detail, especially if it might mean the pond sounds like it's defending Emma Alberici, who has always struck the pond as a TV show host short of a program …

Others have done it, and done it more ably than the pond, as in Greg Jericho's Turnbull's attack on Emma Alberici's tax-cut analysis doesn't add up 

In the middle of the Barners' fuss, Malware and the reptiles were desperate for a distraction, and so Alberici became the golden goose that kept on giving, with the ABC bolting into a cave of censorship, and Media Watch joining in, and suddenly she's the red sparrow for the day at the lizard Oz …



But enough of bird metaphors, because the pond has got ahead of itself and the Caterists …

You see, the Caterist always had Alberici as the main pigeon in his sights, but it would have been unseemly for old Nick to drag the target out in the first few pars, and blast away.

Instead, there needed to be an elaborate dance around the bush, until the target hovered into view, and both barrels could be brought to bear ...



Say what?

A millennial economist par excellence?

Naturally the pond went in search of a definition and Herr Google came up with this ...



Passing strange … because Greg Hunters will find that this "millennial economist par excellence" was actually born in 1970 … which in the mindless way of meaningless demographics deployed by bubble heads like the Caterists, would make her a Gen Xer par excellence

Now it's not the pond's business to carry on about error-strewn articles of the mindless Caterist kind, and anyone wanting to read Alberici's piece can find it at John Menadue's Pearls and Irritations, under the header There's no case for a corporate tax cut when one in five of Australia's top companies don't pay for it 

Suffice to say that the pond is of the school which suggests that anyone who thinks corporate tax cuts will lead to a trickle down result should really check their bladder … or take a look at the way that income inequality and inequity has burgeoned in the past few decades, as the rich patiently explain how in due course everything will come to those who wait … while quickly locking themselves in gated communities before the peasants note what's been going down …

Of course the Caterist is amongst the light-fingered adepts busy getting a five finger discount from both government and business, a corporate shill of the most vulgar and naked and preening kind...



You know, in a world of tax havens, where companies and the rich routinely shift income, profits, and such like around the world to score the best tax avoiding deal, this sort of Caterist routine would be the richest of comedy material for anyone interested in delivering the blackest, most surreal set …

No matter how many times tax havens and the operations of multinationals are exposed, this sort of nonsense is still trotted out … 

It's as if the Paradise Papers had never happened …

But then the Murdochians themselves have been at the heart of this kind of fraudulent activity, as noted at The Conversation here … (go there for the hot links)



No wonder the reptiles are so sensitive … corrupt on every level, and yet so righteous about the ABC …even though the ABC hands back any documents that might produce a subversive story the moment they're asked ...

Sheesh, as usual, the Caterists managed to induce a black dog sugar hit depression … perhaps that's why the Caterists love their sugar so … that or the joy of spreading diabetes ever wider in the land …

As a result, the pond decided that the only way to obtain any relief was to turn to an old First Dog, celebrating the Barners matter when it first began, with fresher doggie do here …good old Barners, the man who helped Gina, herself MID back in 2016 as an actual corporate taxpayer, when the ABC ran a story headed ATO says 30 per cent of large private companies pay no corporate tax …

Oh you've got to laugh, or you'd be crying all day … or munching on hundred dollar roast lambs ...




In which Barners' cuisine reigns supreme ...


The pond deeply appreciates the valiant attempts of the onion muncher to change the topic back to him … but how cheeky is it for the Terror to report on the onion muncher's epic doings before he's even managed to do it?

"Set to"? 

He's been setting to since the moment he promised, in those immortal words, no wrecking, no undermining, no sniping, no backbiting, no bitching, no sledging, no good humoured banter, no frumious bandersnatching, no insults, no verbal intimidation, no backhanders, no invective, and certainly no flyting...

Still, the pond appreciates the effort.

Frankly, it's gone way too far when the pond turns on John Oliver and is confronted by Barners and Johnny Depp's dogs, and a reminder that Barners is up there with South African presidents and Netanyahu as a fitting subject for comedy …


Oliver has a fondness for Barners, as a way of expressing fear and loathing of down under types ...

Meanwhile, Barners has skulked off to Fairfax to talk in Trumpian terms of a witch hunt, though as a traditionalist, the pond would probably prefer warlock hunt, or oath breaker hunt or if push come to shove, a sorcerer hunt, given the way that Barners has now bewitched the entire world …

But all is not lost for Malware, as this day the bromancer, his love of the onion muncher forgotten with his recent deep infatuation with the Donald, chips in and lends a hand, or at least a keyboard …



Yes, while the nanny staters were getting agitated and twisting their cardigans in knots, as in Media Watch here ...

...under Turnbull’s clean sheets policy, if a minister is caught with his pants down, it’s a sackable offence. 
Which means the private sex lives of government ministers will now be very much a matter of public interest. And the media could be reporting on it constantly.

… the bromancer was on hand with a most useful analogy as a way of steering the troubled ship of state away from assorted icebergs …


Indeed, indeed, no one would accuse DFAT of being conservative. These days, it is deeply, subversively leftist, a perverted stinking morass of commie defeatists and insurgents … or so the lizard Oz decided when it decided to re-reun Higgie of the Speccie mob …


Where do they dig up that sort of cartoon from? Was 'lacto vegetarian' a joke back in the 1950s?

These hipsters and their retro post-modernist canapé and toupée ironies, in a style which would have been seen as out of date in an ancient Punch or Man magazine …


Oh well, while the jokes are flying, and to keep Barners in the spotlight, here's a reminder … though if it gets taken down, don't blame the pond for the blank hole ...



And now …

… where was the pond?

Ah that's right, somewhere lost upon the rotting sea, and the rotting deck, where the ministerial penises lay, and water everywhere and how the boards did shrink, water everywhere, nor any a drop to drink … (recite away here).

Set a course bromancer, set a course to steady the ship …



Steady on bromancer, it's heroic Barners you're talking about … valiant traditionalist and friend of Gina …

"I’ve been in heaps of fights in my political life, this is another one, in any person’s political career you aren’t created by the times in your favour, you’re tempered by the times of adversity. That’s how politics works - you rise to deal with it," he said. 
"I am humbled by the support in my electorate and in the community. People are starting to see this as a witch hunt. I’m not going anywhere, I never would."

Yes for all the romancer's talk of the military and diplomats, Barners has done absolutely nothing wrong, and in his humble way, he's humbled by the support he's received, and by the way he's yet again proven to be a celebrity on the TV comedy show circuit …

And what's more, for those of us who love to watch, what fun it's going to be when someone decides to dob in another pollie for indulging in the jolly ...

And let us not forget what a boon Barners is for cartoonists too … with Rowe still enjoying the fun, and more fun-filled Rowe here


And what a lot of watching there is left to do, for voyeurs such as the pond …