From bullshit to bogong moths ...

(Above: ah the good old days, December 7,2009, Abbott's climate change stand 'bullshit': Turnbull, forced video at end of link, beware the tab).


The pond wakes to the news that Fran Kelly on RN has unilaterally downsized Twitter from 140 to 120 characters.

Being before 6, it creates an existential crisis. She didn't say that did she? But the pond gets the message. Avoid all twittering about Twitter for the day.

Meanwhile, the news that Greg Hunt has decided to snub climate science creates ripples everywhere. Well everywhere except Murdochian la la land ...

Frankly, the pond understands.

If you're a lickspittle apologist for a climate denialist, and in the process abandon all the thoughts and aspirations of your academic youth, and you're busy demolishing what the rest of the world has judged is the best market-orientated way forward, why would you want to turn up to the looks of incredulity and disbelief from people who accept the science?

As you yourself are forced to pretend in public statements you actually accept climate science and its findings, while going about the work of dismantling any effective contribution by Australia ...

I mean, you wouldn't want to just avoid going to Warsaw. You'd want to hide under the bed, cheeks flushed, and in the grip of unutterable shame.

But that presumes a sense of remorse, and the preening, strutting Hunt doesn't seem to grasp that concept.

Oh sure there were a few rough bumps locally, and a flurry of stories of the UN climate talks: Labor calls Coalition an 'embarrassment on the world stage' kind.

You might marvel at the news that there will be no high level representation at "vital talks in Warsaw", as in Climate change talks: no minister to represent Australia.

You might seize the chance to catch up on some associated stories. Like The whopping climate change footprint of two Australian coalmining projects.

Or CO2 levels hit record high.

You might even rush off to NOAA, and check the data for September, here.

But relax, because somewhere on the intertubes a lone heroic blogger is unmasking the amazing United Nations black helicopter conspiracy, led by the likes of NOAA ... simply by using the rain gauge and barometer readings they regularly record in the back yard.

And soon enough their epic findings will turn up in the rantings of the Bolter and/or Tim Bleagh, and quite possibly inform the studied science of expert climate scientist George Pell.

You see, no need for panic or alarm, like all those other alarmists. No need to waste jet fuel, and add to the burden of non-existent climate change, by heading off to Poland, though if it didn't exist, why care about the fuel when there's a junket at hand ...

Sorry, must save allowance for footy finals and weddings ...

What's that, you're still feeling uppity and indignant?

Here, shove this pacifier kindly supplied by the reptiles at the lizard Oz:

Can the lickspittle hagiographers get any more adept?

Nothing to see here folks, move along, we can take a sickie or two and no one will notice or care.

Now reconcile the message in that splash in the fickle whirling finger of doom in the carousel at the top of the page with the actual opening lines in Lloyd's Message is loud and clear: we're just not interested. (behind the paywall because you've rotted too many brain cells this week reading the Murdochians.

In diplomatic circles, actions speak louder than words. 
And there is an unambiguous message in Australia's decision not to send a minister or senior government figure to next week's UN climate change conference in Poland...

Reconcile that if you will.

It'll make little difference. Nothing's going to happen ...

But we're telling the world, in an unambiguous message, to get fucked, we don't care, stick that in your diplomatic pipe and smoke it.

The pond sometimes wonders what it would be like to be Graham Lloyd and wake up in the morning and look in the mirror and think, hmm, another day in the coal mine, spinning and weaving, ducking and dodging, burnishing the coalition's climate policies, downsizing the climate science, seizing on ambiguities in the data, peddling distortions, dissembling and downplaying any notion that Houston, or the rest of us, might have a problem ...

It turns out that if you waste valuable minutes clicking through to read the rest of Lloyd, you'll see he doesn't seem to have the heart for it.

As an opinion piece at the top of the page, it's singularly pathetic and diffident.

...That message is compounded by the fact that, when the decisions are being taken in Poland, federal Environment Minister Greg Hunt will be at home pushing through legislation to scrap Australia's carbon tax. 
For the past two years, the carbon tax has been one of few bright spots in diplomatic efforts to cobble together an international agreement to cut global carbon emissions. 
In terms of conference outcomes, Australia's lack of ministerial attendance is symbolic rather than practical. Nothing much is expected to happen in Poland and Australia's absence will make little difference, but it answers the question that has been asked in international circles about where the Abbott government stands on climate change. 
Under the Coalition, Australia has no intention of even pretending to lead the world.

That's it, that's the coverage offered by the opinion-makers at the lizard Oz, a measly 162 words or so, and by Graham Lloyd, who calls himself environment editor on occasion.

It would be an abuse of the word 'pathetic' to call it pathetic ... or even pathetique ...

In the actual miserable piece, you get the sense that Lloyd might actually have a few pangs about "one of the few bright spots" but in the splash, it's all never no mind, it'll never make a difference, and what do we care, because we're exceptional and our shit doesn't stink ...

Maybe Kelly was right. Maybe all Lloyd needs is 120 characters in the Abbott era ...

Do you want any more ironies?

How about Abbott wrapping up his speech to scientists in this way?

It’s been remarked upon, ladies and gentlemen, that we don’t have a minister for science as such in the new government. I know there are some in this room who might have been momentarily dismayed by that, but let me tell you, neither does the United States have a Secretary for Science, and no nation on earth has been as successful at innovating as the United States and I’d say to all of you, please, judge us by our performance, not by our titles; judge us by our performance, not by our titles. (Here).

Judge us by our performance?

Of course, of course, you knew it was coming, as sure as Abbott's lies follow Abbott's dissembling lies:

(Razor taken to CSIRO).

There, that didn't take long. Now here's your dose of castor oil.

Speech delivered at the end of October, cuts delivered by 8th November, and the sheep who provided the small smattering of applause on the speech night must now be wondering what they were applauding ...

Not to worry, it's all good for the cartoonists.

What fun they'll have as the world goes to hell in a handbasket.

But the pond does wonder, as it goes along, how the likes of Malcolm Turnbull, Greg Hunt, and Graham Lloyd live with themselves, daily condoning bullshit, daily facilitating bullshit, daily producing bullshit ...

Never mind, toujours gai Archie, and as usual, Pope provides a laugh.

Note "Tippi" Hunt below in the credits.

The idea of Hunt being Tippi Hedren is vastly amusing, at least for those aware of all the stories about Hitchcock's constant attempts to molest Hedren on and off set in the making of The Birds (apparently it was even worse on Marnie).

The mind-boggling thought of Hunt as Hedren and Abbott as the demonic Alf Hitchcock getting together in cabinet is irresistible.

And then there are the bogong moths. Apparently it's been a bumper crop this year in Canberra, and it reminded the pond of the many memorable moments the pond had in Canberra, when travelling there regularly, either buying up fireworks for illegal cracker nights, or wondering whether this would be the day to finally taste a well-roasted bogong ...

Ah Canberra ...

Well it helps take your mind off the world going to hell in a handbasket.

Take it away Mr. Pope, whack the bogongs, and as always, more wondrous Popery here.