Monday, March 16, 2009

Pauline Hanson, a new standard in Murdoch journalism, Tim Blair loons and fishy business

(Above: in the Daily Terror, a startling image - according to the caption - of Pauline Hanson at the launch of her book, the autobiography Untamed and Unashamed at Dymocks bookstore in George Street, Sydney, 2007. This sets a new low for perverted Hansonism - fancy launching your book in a motel bedroom and pretending it's Dymocks. What a dirty, sexy, pornographic   idea. Thank the lord they covered the bed's legs or it would have been way too much for a Tim Blair loon to bear. Warning: loons be advised, in keeping with new Terror journalism standards, there's an arousing, sexy image of Pauline Hanson at the end of this report).

It was disturbing to see this site labelled as leftoid recently by a lordly loon of the tabloid kind, a man so sure of his righteousness that his courtiers and acolytes quaver at his every word, and rush where he tells them to go (silly loons). 

It made me think of Groucho Marx noting that if a club would have him as a member, it's not the kind of club he'd want to be a member of. Having Blair send his frenzied loons flocking in abundance to this quiet little pond made me feel a little shop-soiled. I mean if readers of Blair's blog read this blog, then this is not the kind of blog I'd like to read ...

It's a bit like looking at a snap of an empty double bed when I was expecting to see Pauline Hanson's tits. Thank the lord they've gone and quietness has returned to the pond. Just the odd caw of a Pearson or an Albrechtsen or a Sheehan.

Sure, this site is prolix, poncy, wordy, verbose, in need of editing, concussed, given to verbal diarrhea, overblown, prolonged, protracted, babbling at tedious and unnecessary length ... Oh for god's sake, just shut the f up.  Nothing to see here folks, just loons, move along, keep the line moving!

But the reason the leftoid tag's so distressing is that this is actually a scientific blog, and I hope some day to publish the results in the Scientific American, or at least some peer-reviewed piece of wankery subsidised by the university elites (whatever's left over from the common room wine budget).

The subject of the research? Well of course it's the loonus commonus (gavia immer, or as we know it in the land down under, the boganus blokus). In particular, we're studying the method of communication, which has at various times been called either an eerie yodel or a tremulous wail. (Tim Blair, for example, identifies himself as a boganus blokus, sub-variant petrol headus moronicus, and screeches like the sound of dropped clutch rubber on tar).

At one time, the common loon decreased in numbers - scientists suspect it had something to do with poisoning by mercury and lead in the aquatic ecosystems - but unfortunately action by lefties and greenies has helped stem the decline in the population of the common loon, and the population is now recovering. Damn you greenies, another crime against humanity.

How these loons migrated from the northern lakes of Canada and the USA, and infested sundry blogs on the intertubes deep in Oz, remains a twilight zone mystery and the subject of intense scientific scrutiny. 

The extreme right wing loon (boganus hystericalus) is much more interesting as a study than the commonus leftoidus or patheticus greenus loons, which have very dull plumage (especially in the dowdy female), and a tragic croak as a mating call, rather than the full-throated territorial call of the male boganus FU blokus.

Also of interest is the innate way the common boganus loon will invariably swerve to the right when in flight, when swimming underwater to catch and eat its prey (usually fish, but for variety they will also nibble on the leftus loon), or when mating. (Coupling is rarely successful if the female loon veers towards the leftus feminista at any time). 

Logical thinking is not common in the loon, and that's why they are infinitely rewarding and eternally fascinating as a study. When confronted with something that's white, the loon will swear it's black. When facing a loon who cuts his boiled egg from the little end - as a kind of ecological small footprint gesture - the common loon will often fly into a rage, and insist on cutting his egg from the big end. The stupidity of eating boiled eggs, as opposed to having them sunny side up, so challenges some loons that they give up on eggs altogether.

Each day the main down under habitat for loons  - slowly declining Australian newspapers, in a python grip of declining circulation, lost advertising and pure irrelevancy - is getting more imperiled. Even so, editors still seem to think a daily offering of loonacy will please the gods and somehow titillate the interest of readers, thereby ensuring their future. 

But are the loons who flock around the mastheads to be trusted? Not one managed a coherent comment on this site. Perhaps they were they too disturbed to find a well-reasoned plea for Blair-ites to rage against John Howard for tightening gun laws in Australia, or perhaps they were shocked into silence to find Joss Whedon was little short of a commie pinko pervert (well actually feminist secularist humanist atheist is maybe even worse?)

Whatever, it's clear that the way forward, the kind of journalism with integrity we love to see, doesn't lie with the loons. The page three nudie girl has come back in style, and the Daily Terror (as well as being a very humble abode for that sneaky gadfly Tim Blair) is now proudly following in the footsteps of The Sun, which introduced the concept of tits to the UK readership as long ago as 1969.

Yep, Pauline Hanson's (alleged) leather-belt bound tits is the way ahead for quality journalism of the Murdoch kind in this great boganus country. That's why, in this special posting, we've brought you this fiendishly disturbing picture of an eroticised Hanson that's sure to get the loons wildly excited.

But please don't ask what she's going to do with all those fish. Only a deeply disturbed, swiftly diving, fiercely hunting, proudly fish-loving loon would know, and we're too afraid to say. But if you put the image of the motel bed and the fish together ... say no more. A nudge is as good as a wink to a blind man, or a Tim Blair loon ...

Next: the quest for the loon gene, and why loons are obsessed by tits, a rather common chickadee found all over the world.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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