The pond's readers will know that the reptiles are deluded ... to suggest otherwise would be, well, as offensive as the lizards of Oz ...

So this, in due course and inevitably leads to ...

... this kind of apologetics, aka a profound level of self-delusional rationalising ...

The trouble of course with donning papal infallibility and admitting no error is that the racist trolling can continue, though strangely the defence of "freedom of speech" offered to Crikey, here - he might be a doofus, but he's free to be freely doofus -  has been replaced by the bizarre notion that Leak was being sensitive and caring ... which sits rather oddly with the portrait of the funny mango chutney munching Indians.

The notion that the cartoon was mocking the patronising attitude of rich nations is just another remarkable example of the reptiles' insular capacity for delusion, as was the line in Crikey that "Our readers would have - and, in fact, have - understood this."

Well please allow the pond to be offensive. The cartoon was racist, it wasn't making an incisive and sensible point, and outside the kool aid paywall, it aroused the ire of Indians ... amongst others, as its trolling was intended to do ...

Besides, as the pond has noted before, it wasn't funny.

A cartoonist who has lost his funny? Yep, you won't find a single humorous note in that reptile defence of him, except for the whole preposterous comedy of the defence on offer ...

And so onwards and upwards, because it's the pond's solemn duty to offer tedious old farts brooding on the subject of climate science, and who more tedious than Paul Kelly (not the singer)?

Here in Sydney Cronulla has been battered by a tornado and monster hail stones (you can also be battered by the forced video), so what better time to talk of challenges?

Of course the main challenge is to actually get to the end of a Kelly piece without feeling the IQ slip sliding away ...

Note the way the pompous pedant introduces the subject of actual carbon trading, and remarkably sheets it home to the master of carbon trading, the wall puncher himself.

Naturally this brings tears to the eyes of the walrus, and we too must clap fins with glee and profound gratitude. Or at least Malware should ...

Is there nothing the door-opening, wall punching hasn't left behind as his legacy?

More prejudiced souls might note it takes a wondrous pulling up by the bootstraps to shrink from a carbon tax, while applauding the cleverness of spending oodles on international credits. Such a nice way of not mention actual sordid trading in carbon ...

So this is how reptiles and angels dance on the head of a pin, if you can imagine this prattling Polonius doing any jig other than the jig of hypocrisy ...

And so to a sad book end for those who might have missed it:

 

The thought police?

So that's what they call Indians these days?

Nope, not enraged, but even worse, absolutely not funny. Just sad. 

Really sad that somehow Leak thinks that he's funny, except maybe to Shane Warne and Sam Newman.

Even worse that he imagines he stands in Lenny Bruce's corner. Talk about a fucked in the head angry old man shouting at clouds and making jokes about mango chutney.

What was that Lenny?

The role of a cartoonist is to make the audience laugh, at a minimum of once every 15 seconds ...

What about a cartoonist who has lost the funny?

Take away the right to say fuck, and you take away the right to sake fuck the Murdochians, but if he can take the hot lead enema, then Bill Leak can cast the first stone, rather than spit the dummy and use words when his stock in trade is supposed to be images.

Damn right ...