In which the pond ends up munching on the usual Oreo, but does its best to delay the pleasure ...

The pond decided it would start off the day by talking about something other than the reptiles, namely 1917, since the Academy provided the pond with a copy for its awards consideration.

The pond considered it for a nanosecond, decided it loathed this "Raiders of the Lost War", with cornball set pieces of the Hollywood kind (too many to list here, but the 'running of the ruined buildings' gauntlet, and the 'dangling in the river rapids' with bonus water fall shouldn't be overlooked), aided and abetted by pretentious camera coverage.

The pond refused to award this pile of nonsense tuppence, not even a farthing, and was glad it had paid even less for the screener. By about the time of the French woman with bub in basement, the pond was quietly screaming, and when a softly stentorian Cumberbatch arrived to deliver a 'war is hell/fight to the last man' speech, the pond thought of going in search of Sam Mendes to shout at him that people who directed abominations must be deemed abominable. By all that's vile, unfair, base, banal, and pathetic, the film should do well in the awards season.

That noted, let's just say that Peter Jackson did infinitely more for the soldiers of the first world war with his restoration of footage in They Shall Not Grow Old, with an elaborately stitched together commentary track by actual soldiers. The pond usually hates colourisation, but with the bonus of speed-correction done well, this wasn't the usual crappy Turner job, and the war footage took on an alarming sense of physical reality. These were real people going about the business of killing and dying, and the pond could imagine its grandfather lurking somewhere behind a machine gun in the footage - not something it wanted to do when it came to Sam's opus.

Oh it's good to get that off the chest, knowing that there will be a dunderhead reptile lurking nearby, ready to sound as stupid as Sam's show looked …now who might it be this day?

Well first, please allow the pond to step back a day to the reptiles usual gotcha moment …

This is an easy game to play. Can anybody explain why the reptiles persist in killing trees so they can drop their unwanted garbage at airports, before it's carted off, hopefully for recycling … 

...though who knows how much that sort of activity costs, tossing freebies on the scrap heap, especially when all the blather is about how others sin, and how in any case, it's not really a sin, because climate science is fake news …

But soft, a strange thing also happened yesterday …

 

It turns out the reptiles are sluts and will run any sort of fake news if it's sponsored content, and even back it up with an opinion piece … as we head back to the days of little Johnny announcing a carbon trading scheme on 4th July, 2007. 

Talk about back to the future, talk about a long and winding road, as slippery and as sideways as a snake in sand …

And so to today, and the apple-eating Adam supping on gas …

Indeed, indeed, and yes, there is an app for Firebox which will remove the paywall and reveal Adam's thoughts for anyone deluded enough to care.

The pond didn't bother, thinking it easier to ask a trick question - can anyone find the Canavan caravan giving a flying fuck about the domestic market in this press release on 21st December 2018?:

There's more, but only this sort of triumphalism …

“Exports of resources and energy make a massive contribution to the Australian economy and to the prosperity of businesses, communities and families throughout the nation.”
However Minister Canavan warned that new investment and better development processes are needed to maintain the sector’s success.
“The industry’s strong results can only continue if new investment is encouraged and the development of projects proceeds efficiently,” Minister Canavan said.
“Producers have invested hundreds of billions of dollars over the past 15 years to unlock new deposits and build world-class infrastructure.
“At the same time, hard and patient work has opened up new markets and new opportunities for Australian producers but we cannot be complacent.
“Around $170 billion in resource projects are now at the feasible stage and rated as either ‘likely’ or ‘possible’ to proceed to construction and we must capitalise on this by improving the development process.
“I’ve started that discussion with my State and Territory counterparts, so we can try to streamline the development process for resource and energy projects, attract more investment and boost productivity.”

Would a line about the domestic market, and caring about it, and how gas would sort out the fake news of climate science have hurt or slowed up the Canavan caravan's press release, and even appeased the apple-loving Adam? Not bloody likely ...

Funny how things seem to change, if only to stay the same, but one thing is guaranteed, and that's the way recovering feminist, the Oreo, keeps on playing the only tune she knows …

Note well the cunning header referring to "weather refugees", there being no such thing as climate science or global warming or climate change, and note how "globalists" and "alarmed" work their way into the very first introductory line …

The pond immediately was bored, as if back in 1917, and began to reminisce about how destructive eating an Oreo can be …

The trouble is, giving up a tasting of the recovering, reformed feminist is no easy task for the pond. 

We all like our denialist treats, and while some might hanker for the Bolter in the HUN (oh you filthy perverts, you vile disgusting beasts), the pond perforce restricts itself to the joys of the lizard Oz, and a mindless dose of sugar, flour and oil …

How many times will the reptiles denounce the gods of globalism, and quitting the cult, while at the same time, preach the joys of international free trade, frictionless transportation of goods and services, and assorted other globalist wonders?

At some point, the pond's brain begins to hurt, and all it can think of is the Suez canal - such a handy short cut - or perhaps de Nile …

Oh it's an old joke, but when you see a duck or a recovering feminist, why not ask viaduct?

And so on the pond trudged, into the vale of anti-elitist sentiment and classical liberal values and all the other assorted bullshit the pond has come to associate with the closed minds of the proto-fascist scribblers at the lizard Oz ...

And there, done and dusted it seems, is the notion that climate change hasn't affected anybody, and won't affect anybody in in the future … yet even the Terror seemed to notice that something might be happening …

Uh huh, but which reptile rag to believe?

When confronted by this sort of quandary, the pond always heads to the gutter …

… or summons up the courage to read the last gobbet of Oreo, knowing it should always come with a health warning ...

Well, that's it for the day, more blather about moral superiority and globalist 'leets and Davos man, and grand rhetorical flourishes from the recovering feminist …

And yet, there was a time …

Dear sweet long absent lord, and now she's a devotee, a supporter of the pussy grabber …

Strange days, and strange how fundamentalists move so easily from one kind of fundamentalism to another.

And how strange that as a result of her incessant climate science denialism, she, and so the pond, must miss out on the real fun going down these days, involving the planet's climate denialist in chief, a kind of Prince Andrew and Harvey Weinstein rolled into a most peculiar construction of masculinity (if the pond might sound a little like the old Oreo for a moment) … 

Thankfully the immortal Rowe is always here to keep the pond up to date with that masculine action …and what splendid junk he has ...

In which the pond can barely cope with another serve of the mint-laden dog botherer ...

Like every other holyday season, this one is quickly wearing down … and like most, towards the end, instead of pleasure, there comes a sense of fatigue, a desire to get it over with, a sense that doing almost anything else other than relaxing with the reptiles might be preferable … you know, digging ditches, shovelling shit, killing things in the garden, or watching clouds … anything, instead of scoffing another serve …

What prompted this pond nihilism, this despair, this blow out? A simple question: just how many times can the dog botherer keep shovelling shit and climate denialism at the readers of the lizard Oz, and how many keep swallowing it?

Another self-doubting question: how did it become the pond's duty to keep track of the reptile loons?

It feels like a never-ending repetitive story, written by a mindless child for other braying children …

Well yes, but speaking of serious media, the pond has no idea where an American cartoonist got an image of the dog botherer so he could devise this cartoon …

Oh wait, the noisy man isn't bald, perhaps the pond made a mistake thinking it was the dog botherer.

Never mind, the pond thought it might throw in this link, on the basis that it would irritate the heck out of the dog botherer to have his words associated with PBS ...

Meanwhile, this very day, in the business section of the lizard Oz, which tends to be a bit wayward, came a different kind of reptile reporting …

But sadly, it isn't the pond's job to look at this sort of story …

Instead the pond must plough on through the dog botherer, yammering on in his usual mindless way …

Oh fuck it, should the pond really resist the temptation to intercut a portion of that other story with dog botherer gibberish? Where's the harm?

Um, actually, if the pond might be so bold as to offer an amendment to that sentence about small exceptions, with the significant exception of a large part of the fossil print media … featuring, as it does, the blathering of the dog botherer, the Bolter and many anthers, and not to mention Sky News, a signification portion of the fossil cable media, featuring as it does, not just the dog botherer, but all the rest of the Murdochian print climate denialists …

Why this constant ire about the meejia and getting it wrong? Well it's been a bad summer for denialists of the dog botherer kind, and especially for their coal-loving fearless leader, as noted in another piece in today's lizard Oz …

Okay, it means putting the dog botherer on hold yet again - the pond is tempted to put him on permanent hold - but just for the nonce, the pond will sample a small portion which helps explain just why SloMo, not helped by the climate denying reptiles, nor the likes of the rantings of the dog botherer, has fucked up in recent times …

Well you won't find any help amongst the reptiles.

So while the pond's at it, and is so totally over the dog botherer's guff, the pond might record exactly how our Henry today put his foot right in it …

Yes, our Henry didn't just breach Godwin's Law, he drove a bloody great tank through it, all to make a point implicit about the same topic as the dog botherer, though without the boldness to mention climate science by name …

You see, after the crocodile tears about Auschwitz, the Nazis, Arendt and all the rest of it, came this ...

That reference to "claims of an impending apocalypse" are about as close to climate science as our Henry dares get, given the rampant abuse of Nazis and Auschwitz present in his piece, but it was obvious enough what he was implying, given his recent outbursts on climate science ...

It's sickening stuff. It might be amusing in the current reptile climate, and the age of the climate science denying King Donald …

… but it was actually just wretched, miserable, and pathetic …and, did the pond mention it? Sickening ...

But at least it's been a distraction, until at last the final dog botherer gobbet must be faced …

What a festering paltroon of a denialist he is, what a scurvy scumbag, how resistant to the truth, how deplorable that our Henry should drag in Auschwitz and the Nazis … 

How much lower can the assembled pack of climate denialists reptiles go in the defence of their denialism and the coal-loving Scotty from failed management?

Well there's always the restoration of dictatorships and monarchies around the world, and they're busy at that too, with more immortal Rowe to be found here …

In which the pond shares a message of joy and hope from our Gracie this invasion day ...

Choices, always with the choices …

Go with the nattering negativity of that nabob, the oscillating fan, or seek a little uplift with our Gracie late on invasion day?

Actually the pond would rather be reading Marina Hyde, who likes to find wonders and ironies in the world …

Anyway. It was during the 2018 US visit that MBS seems to have got Bezos’s number, among those of other power players, and the pair inevitably struck up a bro-to-bro WhatsApp chat. The Hollywood visit itself was a very grand affair, with the crown prince, his entourage and his entourage’s entourages taking over the whole of the Four Seasons hotel in Beverly Hills. Here he hosted a summit on “The future of entertainment in Saudi Arabia”.
It’s great to see the kingdom pondering these creative questions. Although Saudi Arabia is already the genre leader in the public crucifixion space, they may well want to expand their serial output, perhaps bringing the same characters back for floggings every week, or finding a way to vertically integrate their beheading content. Certainly the kingdom seemed an attractive market to the likes of the Marvel Experience CEO, who turned up at the conference carrying Thor’s prop hammer – a weapon that seems impressive but ultimately loses in a game of rock, hammer, bonesaw.
Speaking of rocks, one guest at a Rupert Murdoch-hosted dinner for MBS during his stay saw The Rock bond with MBS. According to what he stated at the time, The Rock was humbled to be told he had so many young fans in Saudi Arabia. “I look forward to my first visit soon to Saudi Arabia,” he posted. “I’ll be sure to bring my finest tequila to share with his Royal Highness and family.” 

Well yes, the pond will drink to that, and so will many of the Saudi elite, who drink behind closed doors, because there are many doors they keep closed …

But enough of all that, because it's time for that pep talk from our Gracie …

Ah yes, the good old days … and now what are we, where have we gone? Down into the mud with Oscar Wilde's rocket.

We're the reptiles' despair, and our Gracie's worry, and yet there's a simple enough reason, one that the pond hinted at yesterday when quoting our Gracie in relation to another matter.

Social media! Is there nothing it will not ruin, is there nothing it cannot blight, and woe is us, all the joy and climate denialism emanating from reptile HQ in 'leet barista sheltering Surry Hills is powerless against the social media horde, the twittering tide ...

Ah yes, it's easy, terribly easy, and the pond immediately seized on that to remind our Gracie and her readership of the best exponent of social media of them all …

And now back to Gracie, and for someone intent on promoting Goop-style energy and joy, and perhaps even vaginal scents, the next par starts off very gloomy indeed, as the forces of social media evil make life hard for the reptiles ...

Perhaps, perhaps … or perhaps we need the resilience of lies, cheating, fraudulent behaviour, deception, tyranny and dictator worship, and narcissist power mongering, ably supported by the reptiles, as they go about their denialist-peddling business …

Well joyous invasion day to all, and let's hear it for the Donald, developing gratitude for his blessing of us with his presence, and his empathy for others, and his deep spiritual awareness of those around us …yes, personal optimism, happiness and a belief that life is good and will only get better, at least until your dead, is up there with Goop, and perhaps deserves a verse of 'don't worry, be happy', or perhaps a poem …

To gov a well burnt country
A land of leaping flames
Of roasted mountain ranges
Of droughts and ember rains
Ignore her scorched horizons
Heed not her rising seas
Keep digging up her coalfields
To flog to the Chinese!

But instead the pond will settle for a few cartoons ...

In which the pond offers prattling Polonius for its Sunday meditation ...

The pond doesn't usually start with a cartoon, but this one seemed fine, seemed a jim dandy way of summarising the ethos at work in the lizard Oz … and perhaps might form a theological basis for the study of fundamentalist beliefs at the lizard Oz, a fitting subject for a Sunday meditation …

And who better as a fit object for study than prattling Polonius, down from the attic to brood about assorted conspiracies ...

Yes, yes, the pond realises it immediately sounds like it will turn into a very familiar, extremely repetitive litany, but the pond can't help it.

When in the company of fundamentalists, and when in the business of reporting fundamentalist thinking, it's the fundamentalists that set the pace. And they don't come any more fundamental or repetitive than prattling Polonius ...

Indeed, indeed. Slomo is in fact merely a lover of dinkum clean pure lovely Oz coal, oi, oi, oi …

In recent times, he's attempted a little decanting and recanting, which attracted the attention of Crikey …

Well yes, and the conclusion was more of the same ...

And not everyone thought that the newly redeemed Slomo, as opposed to the unrepentant Onion muncher, had the first clue what he was talking about, per Michael Pascoe at The New Daily here ...

Sorry about all that. 

The pond occasionally remembers that there's a world outside the reptiles and travels there. 

Frankly it's the only way to cope with the constant wading through the reptile sewers, as apparently the English must do when they come to one of their raw sewer-shit laden rivers … (now that was a Channel 4 report the pond didn't need to see). 

Never mind, on with Polonius, prattling on, and perversely still deliberately misquoting Pitman, a topic the pond is now so bored by, it will skim right through ...

Yes, the pond long ago opened a Swiss bank account, alongside Gra Gra's, to deposit the dollar it receives every time that Polonius prattles that the ABC was/is/will be a conservative-free zone.

Polonius understands, Donald style, that if you repeat a moronic line often enough, soon enough, enough morons will agree with the moronic line …

And then came a little high spot ...

Okay, it's a feeble excuse to run a few cartoons, but the pond will take it …

Ah, that feels better, and it gives the pond the strength to endure the last gobbet of Polonius repeating himself ...

The good old 1.3%. How the reptiles love that figure, how they repeat it as a meaningless mantra, while bizarrely claiming that others aren't aware of the extent of their bias …

But to be fair, Polonius is fully aware of his bias, and he routinely misrepresents, tells porkies, and lies in a bold, bare-faced way… as in his rather pathetic defence of Andrew Forrest, making an unsubstantiated assertion, and yet somehow redeemed because someone dared to note it was an unsubstantiated opinion …

So there we have it, another anal compulsive-obsessive case study in denialism, replete with defences of Twiggy and the onion muncher …right down to the repetitive recalling of old dross of the Pitman and 1.3% kind, with nary a sign of life outside the fundamentalist bubble ...

There's no point trying to argue the actual science, or repeating assorted obvious points that make Polonius sound like a dodderer heading off to senility a little too quickly …

Rather there's a joy in looking at the pathological denialist condition afflicting the reptiles, which has grown rampant in this unprecedented - yes, dog botherer, unprecedented - summer of heat and tragedy …

Will it someday come to be seen as the reptile climate denialist apocalypse? 

Let's hope not, at least if other responses to troublesome events around the world are a sound indication of where we're heading …