In which the pond goes swimming in the pool of tears with Malcolm Turnbull, Minister for Terrorism Advice, world's leading climate scientist Maurice Newman, and the Ministers for Copper and Direct Action ...

(Above: and more Popemobile humour here. Go on, give him a click).

Dear stray passing terrorist, this important message from the Australian government:

“If you have a device, and if I call you just through the mobile phone network, then there will be a record at my carrier that I’ve called your number,” he told Sky’s David Speers. 
“If on the other hand I’ve called you by Skype, or a voice call on Viber, I send you a message on Whatsapp or Wickr or Threema or Signal, you know, Telegram, there’s a gazillion of them. 
“Or indeed, if we have a Facetime call, the telco can see that I have made a connection to a Skype server or a Whatsapp server, it doesn’t see that I’ve had any connection with you.” (here, with more handy attitudes).

Oh and stray passing terrorist, remember this handy hint:

"Your web-surfing history is a matter for you," Turnbull said. "You've all got VPNs (virtual private networks) anyway. 
"All of you appear to be somewhere in Iowa when you go online ... I know that ... anyway, I won't go on," he said with a smile. (here, with more handy attitudes and tips).

Yes, the man who's supervising the slow roll out of fraudband - slower than the original proposal, and at the same or greater expense as the original proposal - to deliver a service that will immediately need an expensive upgrade if Netflix is ever to pose a real threat - is now the Minister for Terrorist advice ... (and you don't need Clarke and Dawe to send up the blithering ponce here).

Now please, stray passing terrorist, can the pond suggest in the politest way, that you piss off and go about your business in peace and quiet, because we have some very important business to attend to, and it's all there in No limits: rights holders could potentially block hundreds of piracy websites in Australia with a single strike.

The pond no longer wonders why it's down the rabbit hole with Alice ... it just goes swimming in the pool of tears with the mouse, while listening to its harrowing tales of monumental misdeeds ...

And now maestro - since traditionalists flinch from maestra - could we have a modest drum roll, and perhaps a little organ music, building up in ever so gently for an important public announcement:




Oh okay, enough already, sheesh, talk about going over the top in a most peculiar Germanic way.

But wait, the fanfare was important, because this day the pond is inordinately pleased to present the further thoughts of arguably the world's greatest climate scientist.

Now Moorice's qualifications and extensive research and many, many publications for the reptiles at the lizard Oz are widely recognised and world renowned.

It seems incontrovertible to assert that he has made many invaluable scientific advances, and is considered by many as a notch above the invaluable scientific work performed by the likes of the Bolter and Lord Monckton.

Yet routinely Moorice hides his light behind a bushel - which incidentally is a phrase with a biblical inspiration, as can be found in Matthew 5:15:

Neither do men light a lamp, and put it under a bushel, but on a lamp stand; and it gives light unto all that are in the house.

Indeed, indeed, and it therefore seems shocking, outrageous that the reptiles at the lizard Oz persist in refusing to make the lamp available to all, so that all might see and understand, and instead put Moorice's scientific papers behind a paywall.

This is scientific sacrilege, so it's the pond's sacred duty to help out. Let her rip Moorice:

Now that's the sort of seminal scientific advice that the pond loves.

Where else would you get a better description of CO₂?

Following Mr Newman's advice, the pond is going to fill a room with the lovely gas and sit in it for a couple of hours, before dissolving an extreme amount in water, and then having a bath.

You know that old chestnut, the surest way of spotting a denialist, that carbon dioxide is a lovely gas. The next thing you know you'll be swilling down coca cola like a Dennis Jensen because coke is really good for your teeth ...

As for all those other impeccable bits of cherry picked hand me downs ... why the pond was gobsmacked with awe and admiration ...

Talk about science ...

Now let's not hear any dribble from NASA, like Research Links Extreme Summer Heat Events to Global Warming.

Why that's old 2012 news, and everyone knows that NASA is really a bunch of pinko commie perverts out to help the UN establish a world government.

So do go on Moorice: 

And there you have it. Better to help fuck the world than do anything in our own nest.

And of course the views herein expressed are not just those of Maurice Newman. They are the views of Tony Abbott, and they are the views of many in the federal government, and they are the views of the editorial team at The Australian which routinely prints denialist tracts, and they are the views of chairman Rupert, himself a wondrous expert on climate science:

Oh yes, there's some knockdown science for you ...

Is it any wonder this is doing the twitterverse rounds?

And finally the pond is in despair.

What sort of reader would blithely suggest that the pond head off to Auspol on Twitter to keep in touch with the loons?

Why the next thing you know, the pond might have given up science class with Moorice and returned to brooding about broadband in big Mal's technology class, which favours exactly the same sort of technology as was deployed in the great overland telegraph.

Telegraphs were cheap to install, the main cost being the copper wires. No heavy engineering was involved, and the telegraph machines themselves were cheap and easy to manufacture. By 1858, Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide were connected. Tasmania, not far behind, was connected in 1859. The telegraph provided a means of exchanging messages between the distant cities and towns of Australia, thousands of miles away in the mere space of minutes. The reality of connecting people so immediately enhanced the desire to connect Australia in a similar way with the world. News from afar came on the Royal Mail Ships, but it typically took sixty to eighty days to reach Australia from Europe in the 1850s, reduced to about forty days in the 1870s. (here).

You see? It's all in the magic of copper, and by golly what was good enough for our Victorian ancestors is damn well good enough for today's mob of peasants. Oh sure the uppity Chinese might be doing it differently, but what would they know?

All you get with Auspol is restlessness ...

And there's a lot more of that subversive, some would say treasonous rubbish on that hashtag.

Why you can even cop a link to this sort of treacherous greenie nonsense:

And so on. Of course, you can read Lenore Taylor here if you like, but enough of this twitter nonsense, the pond is off to have a kool aid sherbert with the reptile lizards of Oz.

Om, om, Moorice good, Chairman Rupert great ...

And so to a cartoon from David Rowe, more Rowe here, and for a little background reading, why not disinter the Warburton report, available here?

Au contraire ... everything's fine in the pool of tears.

Waiter, another kool aid kocktail if you will, and make it a double ... and then we'll be off for a swim in carbonated water ...