Eco-loonies mangle facts and skew stats to prove that climate is changing… what we need are scientific solutions
WEDNESDAY was what we used to call a lovely summer’s day. Deep blue skies, a gentle breeze and people sitting in the park drinking wine, eating cheese and catching a few rays.
Except it wasn’t. According to the nation’s climate enthusiasts, it was yet another example of global warming.
A savage, superheated reminder that the climate emergency is real and that unless we all start eating mud and vandalising paintings, we shall spontaneously combust and die in screaming agony.
Remember May? It was utterly miserable.
The sun barely made an appearance from behind the relentless blanket of grey clouds and we all needed to wear woolly hats because it was so cold.
No it wasn’t, say the disciples of Greta Thunberg.
They say it was actually the warmest May on record.
They claim that while the days were colder and more miserable than usual, the nights were warmer.
I see. So you take a statistic that no one can disprove because they were asleep and you use that to try to win your argument.
And now we get to India, where we are told there’s a savage heatwave that’s causing wheelie bins and lorry tyres to melt.
And that hundreds are dying as a result. Which they are.
Communistical idiots
Now look. I’m not saying the climate isn’t changing.
It is. And some of the change is very possibly caused by human activity.
I also believe that changing temperatures around the world will cause havoc for farmers, problems for wildlife and major migration issues for Northern Europe and America.
And I don’t think I’m alone.
I think most reasonable people have got the message.
So why do the eco-loonies feel the need to mangle facts and skew statistics and paint the weather maps dark red?
And why do they spray Stonehenge and glue themselves to the road?
It’s like trying to prove that the Earth goes round the sun or that England should do better in the Euros by self-immolating outside the British Museum. We know already.
I was going to call at this point for some sensible, calm debate.
But actually, there’s no need. The debate is done. Finished.
The world is round. It goes round the sun and it’s heating up. Move on.
What we need are scientific solutions, and we are not going to get those if communistical idiots continue to ram a hysterical diet of Just Stop Oil rubbish down our throats every day.
SO let me see if I’ve got this straight.
An Iraqi migrant on a boat to Europe allegedly raped a 16-year-old girl in front of her mother just moments after watching his wife and daughter drown.
Really? He watched his nearest and dearest die and then thought: “Right. I need to rape someone.”
What in the name of all that’s holy has gone wrong with the world?
Is Keir a game fella?
I KNOW that many people are worried about Sir Starmer becoming Prime Minister next week.
They know that he supported Arthur Scargill and Jeremy Corbyn and imagine he will create an unholy alliance of wokeness and communism.
But consider this.
We know, because he’s told us about 17,000 times, that his dad was a toolmaker.
But what he hasn’t told us is that he comes from a long line of gamekeepers.
These guys understand the countryside.
They run pheasant shoots and support the hunt and manage forests and keep nature balanced.
So yes. Sir Starmer will have inherited some down-to-earth ability to make a tool.
But he will have countryman DNA too.
So come the autumn, I expect to see him in a pink tunic, with a bugle in one hand and a hip-flask full of port in the other, charging through the countryside on a huge and lively horse.
‘Hoggy hitch
I WON’T go into details but last year, my farm’s badger population was dramatically reduced.
The effect has been immediate. Fewer dry-stone walls are being knocked over, there’s a noticeable increase in the number of ground nesting birds and, best of all, last week I found my first ever hedgehog.
Unfortunately, my dogs found it too and it fascinated them.
Unlike a badger, they don’t have fierce claws so they can’t tear into its flesh and eat it, and they’ve already worked out that it’s quite prickly so what they do is sit there, looking at it. For hours.
I’ve used oven gloves to pick it up and hide it from them but moments later, they find it and the staring begins again.
Suggestions on a post card please.
Such a lack of reason
IN a speech to various BLT+ people this week, the actor David Tennant said that he wished Tory equalities minister Kemi Badenoch “didn’t exist”.
Now we all know what he meant.
He was talking about a world so fair that there would be no need for the Government to have someone to root out inequality. Because inequality wouldn’t be a thing.
But the crowd didn’t see it that way.
They assumed he was lobbing a hand grenade at the Tories so they whooped and hollered and clapped until their arms had been worn down to stumps.
And buoyed by this reaction, David went on to add that Kemi should shut up. He didn’t mean that either.
It was just something he said in the heat of the moment and, God knows, we’ve all been there.
But instead of accepting that, Kemi Badenoch – whom I like, by the way – chimed in to say he was being racist and misogynistic.
Social media was soon a cauldron of frothing hate.
And now we’ve all forgotten what it was he was talking about in the first place.
That’s my biggest beef with this election and, indeed, the world in which we all now live.
There’s a distinct and dangerous lack of reasonableness.
I’M duty bound to comment on England’s weird performance at the Euros.
But while everyone else develops an encyclopaedic knowledge of football tactics every time the national team is playing, I have no idea what’s gone wrong.
So while I may be duty bound to comment, unlike everyone else, I won’t.
Ageing so sad
I HAD my first old person’s tumble this week. I fell into a boat.
Which is better than falling out of one, I suppose. But it still hurt.
And it raises an interesting point.
In my mind I’m 19, so of course I can jump into a boat, and of course I can boing over a fence and of course I can break into a run when the situation demands it.
So yes, it’s annoying when the day dawns and you can no longer do any of these things.
I even have to take a moment to get my breath after doing up a shoelace. But more than that, I find it a bit sad.
Like Socrates, my heart really isn’t in it . . .
WHEN Socrates was sentenced to death, he was told that a soldier would put his whole arm up his rectum then yank his heart free from its moorings.
Sounds grisly, yes. But given the choice of that or going to Glastonbury? Close call.