Dory (right), 'voiced by lesbian poster girl Ellen DeGeneres', according to Andrew Bolt. Photo: Disney/Pixar
It's a grim Christmas here in the ABC trenches. Ordnance whistles overhead, and the whine of the air-raid sirens has become a normal feature of daily life.
One minute it's Miranda Devine strafing Behind The News. The next, it's a devastating artillery assault centring on the fact that Kerry O'Brien was paid - PAID! - to do his interviews with Paul Keating.
And our wartime ears are already normalising The Australian's loud editorials fulminating about the evils of subsidised broadcasters (in The Australian's defence, these editorials need to be loud. Otherwise, how could they be heard over the terrible cries of the hacks from the News tabloids, toiling below decks in order to generate sufficient cash for their unprofitable national sibling to keep a small band of readers relentlessly apprised of the ABC's failings?).
But on Friday, News Corp's Piers Akerman opened up a radical new front. He got The Pig involved.
The column started as a perfectly ordinary light-to-medium ABC-gumming on the usual theme of organisational leftist propaganda and generalised wickedness. But then, this: ''Even the cartoon character Peppa Pig pushes a weird feminist line that would be closer to the hearts of Labor's Handbag Hit Squad than the preschool audience it is aimed at.''
This is a serious allegation. Of all the programs watched on the ABC's iView platform, Peppa Pig is the most popular by a long straw. Between January and November this year, the show was watched 25 million times. That is correct, 25 million times. Impressive, even when you factor in the possibility that several million of those may have been Akerman, monitoring the cartoon piglet round the clock for signs of latent man-hate.
So that's a lot of weird feminist mind-bending going on. Thank goodness someone has finally put the pieces together - Peppa's ungirlish love of puddle-jumping, her casual insubordination to her father (''Oh dear. Daddy Pig is too fat to squeeze into the cubby house!''), and the sinister presence of Miss Rabbit, who has about a hundred jobs, is unmarried, and sometimes babysits for her sister, Mrs Rabbit. Mrs Rabbit has only four children, which for a rabbit seems so suspiciously low a progeny count that she might just as well be a brand ambassador for birth control.
For the record, Peppa is demonstrably apolitical in the formal party sense. In 2010, she pulled out of a guest appearance at a British Labour campaign event, prompting this immortal comment from the office of the then prime minister, Gordon Brown: ''He understands that Peppa has a very busy schedule and so couldn't make it.''
And she is certainly no socialist - Peppa merchandise is one of the ABC's most profitable sources of independent income, and her proprietor, the Canadian company Entertainment One, is laughing all the way to the piggy bank.
But she is far from the first children's TV character to be busted for pushing alternative lifestyles.
Jerry Falwell outed handbag-carrying Tinky Winky, from the Teletubbies, as a purple piece of homosexual agit-prop way back in 1999, while the subliminal pro-drug message is periodically sniffed out by close watchers of kids shows from The Magic Roundabout (clearly the work of someone on a hallucinogen of some kind) to Scooby Doo (Scooby? A complete stumblebum who alternates between naps and attacks of the munchies? Hmmm.)
Ten years ago, Akerman's stablemate Andrew Bolt picked a memorable fight with the world's most famous animated fish. ''For many viewers, the messages in Finding Nemo - that humans are vile but nature noble, that killing is always wrong, that eating meat is mean, and that parents should ease up with the rules - will seem very true, or at least harmless,'' Bolt fulminated in 2003. ''Harmless? How harmless is it for children to be taught a morality that is so impractical or shallow that it soon becomes a game of pretend?''
Bolt took issue with the fish movie's implicit anti-Americanism (''Almost every fish is good, naturally, but every human is stupid, careless or bad - Americans in particular'') and with a Nemo co-star (''a childless blue tang called Dory, voiced by lesbian poster girl Ellen DeGeneres'').
The broader narrative here may well be an ecological tale different from but no less tragic than Nemo's - the politically seasonal loss of food supply for the mature right-wing cheerleader-columnist. When Labor is in power, there is red meat aplenty, but when the Coalition rules, these mighty carnivores are obliged to scrape by on a meagre diet of public broadcasters and animated woodland creatures.
You've got to make a living, don't you? And when you think about it, perhaps it's not so silly after all that a writer in the Akerman genre would feel adequately qualified to take on a cartoon pig, whose chief failing - feminism aside - is that she is shouty, argumentative, one-dimensional and just that little bit too loud.
''The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again, but already it was impossible to say which was which.''
Annabel Crabb writes for ABC Online and is the host of ABC TV's Kitchen Cabinet. @annabelcrabb