Enron Environmentalism: The Carbon Credits Scam Pumps Millions of Tonnes More Greenhouse Gases into the Atmosphere

As well as pumping much as 600 million tonnes more greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, the carbon credits scheme has been abused by countries like Russia and the Ukraine which have used them as a money making scam.

Vladyslav Zhezherin, one of the co-authors of the study by the Stockholm Environment Institute says:

“This was like printing money.”

Another co-author Anja Kollmuss has told BBC News.

“We were surprised ourselves by the extent [of the fraud], we didn’t expect such a large number.”

“What went on was that these countries could approve these projects by themselves there was no international oversight, in particular Russia and the Ukraine didn’t have any incentive to guarantee the quality of these credits.”

To which the two obvious questions are:

Have any of these people actually been to Russia or the Ukraine?

and:

This stuff that these greenies have been smoking sounds totally amazing. How do we go about getting some?

The corruption they describe is by no means a recent thing. It dates back to Enron whose entire business model was based on dodgy carbon credits, which it used not to save the planet but to close down its rivals in the coal industry.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

How Obama’s Green Crony Capitalism Is Reducing the US to a Banana Republic

“They are going to try to dirty him up,” said Court, a Steyer ally. “He is personally committed on a moral level to preventing a 4-degree temperature change that is irreversible, and he has $3 billion to pursue his passion.”

I have a couple of problems with this imaginative thesis, presumably advanced with Steyer’s blessing in order to distract from unhelpful stories like this one about  his latest egregious eco-fail in California.

1. How would it be possible, even with the combined resources of Chevron, Exxon, BP, Shell, Petrobras and whoever else, to cause more reputational damage to Tom Steyer than he has already achieved through his own magisterial efforts?

Sure he must have been clever or cunning sometime to have made at all that money for himself. But his more recent career, ever since deciding his new job was to save the world from ManBearPig, has been a succession of humiliating failures.

His NextGen SuperPac was a massive flop.

In Florida, it dispatched more than 500 staffers and volunteers to criticize Governor Rick Scott’s energy policies and used a “Noah’s ark” to show the threat of rising ocean levels. Scott still won re-election.

So was his Proposition 39 in California which, at yet further cost to the taxpayer, was supposed to have created 11,000 new “green jobs” a year. In fact the true figure has been closer to 600 green jobs a year, each costing $175,000 – and quite likely killing many more real jobs than the fake ones it created.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

BBC Breaks Impartiality Rule on Climate and…Ooh, Look, a Performing Dog!

The BBC has been caught red-handed breaking its own rules on impartiality by running a series of green propaganda documentaries funded by the United Nations on its BBC World News channel. (H/T Guido)

But you’d never guess this from the way the BBC has reported on the story about its censure in a report by the broadcasting regulator Ofcom. Instead, like a laser, it has focused on what it considers to be the only important bit of the report, viz:

Commercial rival ITV should have made it much, MUCH clearer to viewers that the amazing, performing dog which won Britain’s Got Talent earlier this year was in fact two amazing, performing dogs. That’s because there was one trick – walking the tightrope – that the main amazing, performing dog Matisse couldn’t do. So it had to be faked using a Matisse lookalike called Chase, who had trained for years and years after being inspired by watching an acclaimed arthouse documentary called Dog On Wire.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m as shocked as anyone by the appalling deception which Britain’s Got Talent practised on its viewers. Had I voted for the evil, lying, faking trickster devil dog Matisse and then subsequently discovered that I had been duped about his talents, I expect that I would almost certainly have wished to commit suicide in shame. TV documentaries involving animals, as we know, are widely recognised for their scrupulous accuracy and integrity and lack of artifice. The same is true of TV talent shows.  So I can well understand why viewers who’d voted for Matisse rang to ask for their premium phoneline money back. And if David Cameron doesn’t call a public inquiry into this vital issue then I think we all have a right to know why.

All that said, I still think there may be more pressing issues of public concern in this Ofcom report.

Take, for example, the revelation that BBC World News ran no fewer than three documentaries plugging the United Nations REDD scheme, kindly funded by and made on behalf of the United Nation’s REDD scheme. (These were among 14 half-hour programmes run on BBC World News and all “funded by not-for-profit organisations operating largely in areas of developing world issues and environmental concerns.”

It’s clear from the BBC’s defensive response towards Ofcom’s initial inquiries that it saw nothing wrong with this.

BBCWN, however, believed that not for profit bodies such as United Nations agencies could fund programmes without engaging the sponsorship rules.It believed that if the content of the programme could not be considered promotional of the funder and its activities or interests, the funder should not be categorised as a sponsor.BBCWN said it believed that subjects of general public interest such as health, education, social welfare etc. could not be considered to be proprietorial interests of a funder provided that the particular activities of the funder were not promoted.

But this tells us more about the ideological mindset of the people who work at the BBC than it does about the BBC’s actual charter obligations as a public service broadcaster with quasi-monopolistic privileges.In the Beeboids’ eyes, NGOs and UN bodies like the ones that funded this propaganda, are so pure in motivation, so unimpeachably correct in their collectivist urges, that there is need to subject them to any kind of scrutiny.Had they done their due diligence – a basic requirement, you might have hoped, for a news organisation of the BBC’s international stature and supposed respectability – they might have discovered otherwise.REDD, as Christopher Booker revealed at the time those programmes ran, was a scam of epic proportions, cooked up by the green movement in order to enrich its cronies at public expense.

If the world’s largest, richest environmental campaigning group, the WWF – formerly the World Wildlife Fund – announced that it was playing a leading role in a scheme to preserve an area of the Amazon rainforest twice the size of Switzerland, many people might applaud, thinking this was just the kind of cause the WWF was set up to promote. Amazonia has long been near the top of the list of the world’s environmental cconcerns, not just because it includes easily the largest and most bio-diverse area of rainforest on the planet, but because its billions of trees contain the world’s largest land-based store of CO2 – so any serious threat to the forest can be portrayed as a major contributor to global warming.

If it then emerged, however, that a hidden agenda of the scheme to preserve this chunk of the forest was to allow the WWF and its partners to share the selling of carbon credits worth $60 billion, to enable firms in the industrial world to carry on emitting CO2 just as before, more than a few eyebrows might be raised. The idea is that credits representing the CO2 locked into this particular area of jungle – so remote that it is not under any threat – should be sold on the international market, allowing thousands of companies in the developed world to buy their way out of having to restrict their carbon emissions. The net effect would simply be to make the WWF and its partners much richer while making no contribution to lowering overall CO2 emissions.

Fortunately, the scam was nipped in the bud by the collapse of the carbon-trading market.

But it’s quite a big deal, don’t you think, that the BBC willingly lent its services to help promulgate this outrageous scheme?

Bigger even, I’d suggest, than the Britain’s Got Talent scandal. I mean, however, much Matisse’s owner may have trousered as a result of that relatively innocuous sleight of paw involving his canine pal Chase, I suspect it didn’t come anyway near the $60 billion the WWF and its greenie co-conspirators stood to make at our expense if they’d pulled off that Amazonian eco-heist.

From Breitbart

Related posts:

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Some of Jeremy Corbyn’s Best Friends Aren’t Jewish

The brilliant thing if Jeremy Corbyn wins the Labour party leadership race, I argued, is that by testing to destruction in Britain the same ideology that has already been tested to destruction in Castro’s Cuba, Stalin’s Soviet Union, Mao’s China, Kim Jong Il’s North Korea, Enver Hoxha’s Albania, and so on, he will make the Labour party unelectable for at least a decade.

I joked that in honour of the earnest beardie I was even thinking of wearing a Jeremy Corbyn vest, just like the ones he favours – bought, apparently, for just £1.50 from his local market.

But now – like quite a few others, ranging from former Labour Prime Minister Gordon Brown to former Tory MP Louise Mensch and columnist Janet Daley – I’m beginning to realise that frivolity may not necessarily be the most sensible response to a man who was cosying up to the IRA weeks after the Brighton bomb that nearly killed Margaret Thatcher and who describes Hamas as his “friend.”

My worry is not so much that, as received wisdom has it, that all governments need a credible Opposition leader to hold them to account. (By that token, Margaret Thatcher’s run as prime minister – with Michael Foot and Neil Kinnock leading the Opposition benches – would have been a complete disaster, which I’m not sure it was). Rather it’s that as Janet Daley argues here, it’s that Corbyn represents the kind of hard-left revolutionaries who’ve given up on parliamentary democracy altogether.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

RIP Stefan the Stork – One of 30 Million Birds Killed by Wind Farms Every Year

Though I’ve given him a name – Stefan – I think we can safely predict that his ugly and entirely unnecessary demise won’t generate nearly the same level of public outrage as did Cecil the Lion‘s. Or even Finsly the Tiger Shark’s.

That’s because, as Stalin might have put it, the killing of one mammal by a white, middle-class male is a tragedy. But the massacre of millions of birds (and bats) every year by greenies who say they’re doing it because they really care about the environment is a statistic.

Just how many of the world’s avian fauna are killed every year by bat-chomping, bird-slicing eco-crucifixes?

If you believe the conservation group Save The Eagles International, then the annual global death toll is jaw-dropping.

But this is shy of reality by a factor of ten, because 90% of casualties land outside the search perimeter and are not counted. We are thus really talking about an unsustainable death toll of 30 million birds and 50 million bats a year – and more still if we factor in other hide-the-mortality tricks documented by STEI.

But we’re unlikely ever to get an accurate figure because the wind industry takes such pains to cover up this embarrassing data. For example, last year, PacificCorp – an energy company which operates at least 13 wind energy facilities in three US states – sued the US Interior Department to prevent it releasing to the media the figures on how many birds have been found dead at its facilities.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

Six Reasons Why ‘Climate Science’ Should Definitely Be on the School Curriculum

The head of the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) Gina McCarthy has said in an interview that she believes “climate science” ought to be included in the school curriculum.

“Very much so,” she says. “I think part of the challenge of explaining climate change is that it requires a level of science and a level of forward thinking and you’ve got to teach that to kids.

Some cynics may accuse the woman of talking gibberish.

In what way, exactly, does uglifying your school roof with a bunch of expensive and probably pointless solar panels comprise a “hands-on” experience which will “change the entire dynamic” of a child’s education?

And are we really sure that schools are suffering from a shortage of teaching on climate change? Isn’t the problem – from Britain to the US – exactly the opposite: that kids are being brainwashed by ignorant, politically motivated teachers into believing that there’s a serious, man-made “global warming” problem, when in fact there’s no evidence to support this increasingly discredited thesis?

Find out why at Breitbart London

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  3. Jamie’s Nightmare School
  4. ‘BBC’s biased climate science reporting isn’t biased enough’ claims report

 

George Monbiot’s Obesity Solution: Punish the Thin!

August 12, 2015

Obesity is an incurable disease says the Guardian’s George Monbiot. No really, he goes on. It’s not only “more addictive than crack cocaine.” But also it’s quite like “cancer.”

Gosh, how I love George Monbiot! Is he not such a darling, wonderful thing?

I like his new byline photograph – still unsmiling, still austere, still wholesome and chunky-knit but now with the Wrinkles of Experience and the Deep Frown of Pained Wisdom.

I like his heroic abstinence from frivolity or mirth, redolent of one of those marvelously austere Scandinavian churches and lots of distinguished German philosophers, probably. He’s like a living version of that And When Did You Last See Your Father? painting, only without the belly laughs. And also remarkably like the Hon. Sir Jonathan Porritt, it occurs.

I like the fact that he went to Stowe – when Stoics, as a rule, are such jolly, thick-but-hugely-likeable beagling types.

I like the fact that he once wrote an article – God, I feel so sorry for George Monbiot – defending him when he got into trouble when he said something legally questionable about someone on Twitter. And I like even more the fact that I meant every word, which I think speaks volumes about what a generous-spirited person I am and about how I will always put high moral principle before petty feuds.

But most of all I like the fact that he keeps writing such fantastically wrongheaded nonsense which I am freely able to attack because George Monbiot remains a distinguished columnist, rated by many, well-remunerated, and accorded many a high platform at eco-conferences and suchlike across the whole of Gaia’s world – so no one can accuse me of “punching down.”

Anyway, George’s latest. His line is that because some new study has come out in a fancy sounding journal – Neuroscience and Biobehavioural Reviews – saying that people can get addicted to eating, and because once you become obese it’s much harder to lose weight (once you’re there, 98.3 per cent of men and 97.8 per cent of women never return, apparently) that therefore we should stop being horrid to fat people because they JUST CAN’T HELP IT.

I’m with him on the ‘being nice to disgusting looking people’ thing. The other day, I got talking to this bloke who looked like a filthy, smelly old tramp (as indeed he had been for the previous seven years) and he turned out to be an absolute joy. Also, I’m generally well disposed to fat people who appear as a rule to be jolly, who I know in my bones (call it male intuition) share my appreciation of food, and who – more to the point – could easily turn dangerous if you weren’t nice to them and just sit on you and squish you like a cockroach.

But when it comes to the as-bad-as-crack-or-cancer thing, I’m afraid George and I part company.

It’s not that I wish to diminish or ridicule in any way the difficulty of losing weight. I’m lucky enough not to have been born with the “big bone” gene.

My problems with his argument are twofold

a) if you want to lose weight, you can – just exercise more and eat less, as Katie Hopkins did on her My Fat Story documentary. (Sorry, but I absolutely refuse to believe that George Monbiot is not a massive fan of “The Hop”, as he probably calls her affectionately).

b) it expects us to share his terrifying assumption that if fatties can’t be persuaded to control their impulses then everyone must be made to suffer.

Here’s how he puts it:

Eventually the change will have to happen, with similar restrictions on advertising, sponsorship, display and accessibility to those imposed on the tobacco pedlars. One day, though not before many thousands have needlessly died, it will become illegal to advertise any food or drink that merits a red traffic-light warning. They will be sold only in plain packaging, with health warnings, on high shelves.

Then he adds, rather sweetly, as if even he thinks he might have gone a bit too far this time:

Does this seem draconian to you?

Unfortunately, it’s only a rhetorical question. George doesn’t think it’s ‘draconian’, it’s just plain commonsense, and he goes on with his characteristic lightness-of-touch and lack of dogmatism to explain:

If so, remember that obesity afflicts a quarter of the adult population, and is rising rapidly. It causes a range of hideous conditions, just one of which – diabetes – accounts for one sixth of NHS admissions and 10% of its budget. In what looking-glass world is this acceptable? If smoking demands fierce intervention, why not overeating?

This is the choice we face: to recognise that the only humane and effective means of addressing the obesity epidemic is to prevent more people from being hooked, by restricting the pushers – or to continue a programme of fat-shaming, bullying and compulsory treatment, whose only likely outcome is unhappiness.

Now ask yourself again: which of these options is draconian?

Which reminds me of the other thing I love about George Monbiot: his refreshing candour.

As I argue in Watermelons, the problem with so many environmentalists is that behind that cloak of bunny-hugging caringness they’re all basically a bunch of totalitarian kill-joys itching to transform the entire world into the Death Camp of Sustainability and Tolerance – with them, of course, as the jackbooted camp guards.

What’s so different, so special about George is that he really doesn’t bother to mask what he thinks with all that fluffy stuff. He gives it you straight. Whatever the situation, his answer boils down to: “More regulation. Less personal freedom. Now what’s the question?”

Truly for those of us on the opposite side of the argument, George is the gift that goes on giving.

Read the rest at Breitbart London

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  4. Just what is it that greens like George Monbiot find so offensive about prosperity, abundance, happiness?

One thought on “George Monbiot’s obesity solution: punish the thin!”

  1. apparently says:26th August 2015 at 10:28 am“If so, remember that obesity afflicts a quarter of the adult population, and is rising rapidly.”

    Odd that it only affects one in four (possibly?) westerners…

    The vast majority live elsewhere and remain uninfected.

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Britain’s Day of Burning Hell. Survivors’ Eye-Witness Accounts

July 1, 2015

Britain is enjoying a spectacular heatwave and I don’t know about the rest of you but I have been enjoying it immensely.

I love the sunshine. I love the way it fries your brain so it feels like you’ve been smoking weed even when you haven’t. I love the gazelle-like legs of all the nubiles in their summer dresses passing me just now as I sipped a flat white on Kensington High Street. I love the fact that, when you’re wearing sunglasses, you can perve freely without anyone realising where your eyes are looking…

But enough summer sunshine fun. It seems that not everyone feels quite as enthusiastic about this glorious mid-90s heat as I do.

This young fellow on Twitter for example who thought it would be a good idea to send me this tweet.

I wonder if Ollie is being sarcastic.

Anyway, I’m grateful to Ollie for at least two reasons. First, I absolutely adore the idea that he imagines me to be so powerful I am in any way responsible for the thing we used to call in the old days “lovely weather.”

Second, because he sweetly included a link to the Guardian which I might otherwise have missed.

It seems that the Guardian has been live-blogging this marvellous sunny day we’ve been having, providing regular updates, in much the same way newspapers more normally do when covering say a breaking story about some hideous terrorist atrocity or some terrible natural disaster.

Here, so you can enjoy it yourself, is the link.

It includes invaluable tips on how to cope if you’re fasting for Ramadan (as so many of Guardian’s white liberal metropolitan readers are, right now, of course): break it and seek medical attention if you’re seriously ill, advises Shakyh Abdul Hussain of the East London Mosque – though presumably other clerics would disagree strongly with this dangerous liberalism.

There’s a short interview with a devil-may-care couple of pensioners who have recklessly decided to ignore all the Guardian’s invaluable health-and-safety advice and expose themselves to the sun’s deadly rays:

Soaking up the rays on a bench on Gordon promenade, Veronica Josh, 70, and her friend Jean Reay, 71, say they took no notice of the health warnings urging people to stay indoors between 11am and 4pm.

Who says the spirit of punk is dead, eh?

Meanwhile the UN is seizing the opportunity to advance its nannyish, finger-wagging agenda.

The United Nations has urged countries to create better warning systems as a heatwave sweeping western Europe saw temperatures reach 40C.

People with lung problems are basically as good as dead.

Vicky Barber from the British Lung Foundation Helpline said sufferers should avoid going out in the midday heat. “During hot weather, the air we breathe has lower moisture levels than usual, which can have a drying effect on our airways,” she said.

“As a result, people with respiratory conditions such as COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) or severe asthma may find it harder to breathe, feel more tired, or find their lungs feeling heavy or tight.”

Astonishingly, there has been a rise in sales of sun cream:

Superdrug has seen sales of suncare rise by 26% (compared to this time last year) and is predicting sales to rise by an additional 20% this week. The drugstore’s own brand Solait SPF50 suncream is the best seller, with the retailer announcing that it is selling a bottle every 30 seconds.

There has been a mass outbreak of unrepentant sexism:

The ASA said: “We considered the claim ‘Are you beach body ready?’ prompted readers to think about whether they were in the shape they wanted to be for the summer and we did not consider the accompanying image implied a different body shape to that shown was not good enough or was inferior. We concluded that the headline and image were unlikely to cause serious or widespread offence.”

And it’s the hottest July day on record. (Well, at least if you count one data set from one weather station as being symbolic of EVERYTHING).

Just like that, the temperature has soared at Heathrow to make this the hottest day in July since records began. That’s 0.2C higher than 2006’s record.

All of this makes me feel very ancient. I’m old enough to remember a time when sunny days were something to celebrate, not panic about or – as young Ollie seems to imagine – to cite doomily as yet further depressing evidence of man’s refusal to change his selfish carbon-guzzling lifestyle.

Is it just me? Or am I in fact the only surviving refugee from the Summer of ’76 who can remember headlines like “Phew! What a Scorcher!”?

Read at Breitbart

Related posts:

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  4. The Met Office – defending the indefensible, as per usual

One thought on “Britain’s Day of Burning Hell. Survivors’ eye-witness accounts.”

  1. merrymaking says:3rd July 2015 at 2:02 pmWhen these people talk of “carbon” what, exactly do they mean?
    CO2 – carbon dioxide – is an odourless, colourless gas and every single human breathes this out every second they live and is plant food. OR
    C – Carbon – diamonds are made from this !
    They throw around how we must reduce our “carbon” but I don’t think they know what they are talking about.
    I read that there are 85,000 units of CO2 in the atmosphere and only ONE of those is from humans that is some hefty fight for us all !!

Comments are closed.

You Only Had One Job at Glastonbury, Kanye West…

June 30, 2015

Is Kanye West the most annoying, arrogant, rude, impertinent, graceless, blustering, charmless, overindulged boor in the entire history of popular music – or indeed in the entirety of history ever?

Well, yes, obviously.

But for some of us – me, I confess until this weekend – all these manifest flaws have been more than justified by the man’s superabundant talent.

“Yes, well the man’s earned the right to despise his fans, to diss lovely, sweet Taylor Swift and to be so incredibly shallow that in order to out-bling his rival Jay-Z’s marriage to Beyonce he had to go out and marry a woman notable for only two things (a) the size of her booty  b) being more famous than Beyonce.) He can do this stuff because he is an artistic genius.”

That’s what I used to tell people until I saw his headlining set at Glastonbury Festival (England’s Woodstock) at the weekend and appreciated for the first time the main flaw in my argument, viz: Kanye West is not an artistic genius, after all.

Before Kanye West made his appearance at Glastonbury, the bookmakers were offering odds of 2 to 1 that he would be booed off stage before the end of his set.

That is because, by long tradition, Glastonbury is the king of British music festivals – like Woodstock might have been had it ever been any good – and does not take kindly to artistes who think they are bigger than it.

Pretty much anyone who is anyone and who is available and alive has played there. Nirvana never did. Nor did Elvis. But everyone else has, from Page & Plant to Dolly Parton to Johnny Cash to Paul McCartney to the Who to Radiohead to Metallica to Jay Z.

So being allotted the headline Saturday night slot at Glastonbury is quite an honour.

But would Cheesus (as Kanye styles himself) rise to the occasion. Or would he urinate all over it like an incontinent Rottweiler?

Well, on Saturday night about 60,000 of us who’d come to see him had our answer.

The only brief moment of excitement was when a comedian called Lee Nelson invaded the stage (he was holding a mic and at first it looked like he was going to be one of those thrilling guest rappers that Kanye couldn’t be bothered in the end to invite along) in what he claimed was “revenge” for what Kanye did to Taylor Swift. (He interrupted her acceptance speech at the MTV Video awards in 2009).

After that it was like being pounded to terminal boredom by a sledgehammer made of Mogadon and inscribed with the collected speeches of Barack Obama. Something like that, anyway.

The thing Kanye West doesn’t seem to have realised is that a lot of us don’t buy his records for his rapping. For all we care about the political insights of a spoilt millionaire and close personal friend of Barack Obama (allegedly), he might just as well be rapping about pizza toppings or his antique Yu-Gi-Oh! cards collection or the best fish, in his considered view, to have in a 30,000 gallon marine aquarium. It’s not like we’re listening to the actual words – (though I might if they were about the fish: could be quite informative) – they’re just the infill to give Kanye something to do with his mouth while the stuff we do care about (the samples, the hooks, the mash ups, the bit from In The Court of the Crimson King where it goes “Twenty-first century schizoid man”, and so on) gets us swaying and grooving and feeling how pleasingly badassed and Trans Black we all are. (Or real black, even. I understand that Kanye West does have some black fans. Not as nearly as many as he has white fans, obviously. But a few. Apparently).

Yes, of course, there are ALSO Kanye fans who care about his rapping too. These were much in evidence all around me at Glastonbury, chanting the lyrics so loud and word-perfectly I don’t know why they bothered turning up – they could have just piled into an elevator with a few of their mates and shouted Kanye West’s greatest hits at the mirror for two hours. They’re also, I suspect, the reason why he didn’t get booed off stage as he deserved.

But if you weren’t one of those, it was really, really, really boring. I wouldn’t necessarily expect people who think rap all sounds the same to understand this but one reason we music aficionados so love our hip hip is that, of all the genres, it’s the one that probably attracts the best, most interesting producers – Dr Dre, Timbaland, The Neptunes, DJ Shadow, and so on – and creates the richest, most intoxicating sound. An album like West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy – which I still love – is like being taken by your parents to the sweetie shop (candy store, if you prefer) and being treated to the entire stock.

So imagine how frustrating it would be if you had to listen to a hip hop artiste so self-obsessed, cocksure and oblivious to the needs of his audience (take a leaf out of Taylor Swift’s book Kanye: she actually cares about her fans. When my girl went to see her in Hyde Park the same time you were playing, she and her friends got a nice shiny bracelet thing – a gift from Taylor) that he decided completely to strip out all that clever, pleasing musical stuff and just concentrate on the basslines, the declamatory rap bollocks, and himself.

Well I’ve no need to imagine. That’s Kanye. And only Kanye. Jay-Z certainly didn’t behave like that when he played Glastonbury. Eminem certainly wouldn’t do it.

No, being a crap performer – and actually having the gall to demand to be respected for it – is purely a Kanye West thing.

Towards the end of his set, Kanye told those of us who had stuck it out (whether we wanted to or not: once you’re in the middle of a crowd of 60,000 or more you’re there for the duration) that we had witnessed a performance by “the greatest living rock star on the planet.”

This, it struck me, isn’t quite accurate. And as he played out his final numbers – including an inexplicable account of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody – I began making a mental list of all the bands I’ve seen at Glastonbury or elsewhere over the years who are or were much, much better than Kanye West. (Some, I admit, have passed on. But I’ve a suspicion that even the dead ones could still put on a more impressive act than Kanye did at the weekend)

A short list of rock stars who are better than Kanye West

Page & Plant; Eat; Lush; The Chemical Brothers; The Prodigy; Foo FightersOasis; New Fast Automatic Daffodils; Paul McCartney; Patti Smith; Future Islands; Dreadzone; PJ Harvey; Tricky; Paul Oakenfold; The Killers; Radiohead; The Rolling Stones; DJ Shadow; The Happy Mondays; Inspiral Carpets; Neil Young & Crazy Horse; Dizzee Rascal; New Model Army; Massive Attack; David Bowie; Duran Duran; Michael Jackson; Mogwai; Jesus Jones; Tracy Chapman; Lou Reed; Bob Dylan; Rodriguez; Love; Rolf Harris; The Unthanks; The Who; Supergrass; Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci; John Grant; Midlake; Trashmonk; Gravenhurst; Florence & The Machine; Burt Bacharach; Jamie T; Suede; the xx; Amadou and Mariam; Elbow; Ash; New Order; Primal Scream; The Flaming Lips; Gorillaz; U2; Coldplay; Arcade Fire; Gregory Isaacs; Bjork; Manic Street Preachers; The White Stripes; The Verve; Neil Diamond; Blondie; Smashing Pumpkins; Elvis Costello; Carter USM; The Black Crowes; Jeff Buckley; Pulp; Moby; Brian Wilson; Arctic Monkeys; Leonard Cohen; Rage Against The Machine; Lenny Kravitz; The Cure; Depeche Mode; Frank Turner; Caribou; Todd Terje & The Olsens; Fatboy Slim; Four Tet; Leftfield; Django Django; Skrillex; Franz Ferdinand; Fatboy Slim; Lamb; Groove Armada; Red Hot Chili Peppers; Pet Shop Boys; Chas n Dave

The list is not exhaustive.

From Breitbart

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Why is Britain Dishing out Honours to Low Grade Twitter trolls?

Historians will never cease arguing about when it was that Western Civilization began – Sumer? Salamis? After the Fall of Rome?

But not one of them will be in the slightest doubt from this week onwards as to when it was that Western Civilization ended.

Indeed, they will be able to pinpoint its demise down not just to the day but to the very hour the announcement was made. I refer, of course, to the extraordinary Gavrilo-Princip-style moment when some very dangerous and out-of-control mad person somehow got their shaking, sweating hands on the controls and decided it would be a good idea to award an OBE to someone called Caroline Criado Perez.

To help future historians I thought I’d provide a contemporary record of this momentous event using the traditional early 21st century medium of an internet Q & A.

Q: So we’re all very clear now, we historians here in your future, that Western Civilization definitely ended when Caroline Criado Perez was awarded an OBE. But though we’ve searched our extensive archives, which includes every article written or published, and every tweet ever tweeted – including the deleted ones by Johann Hari claiming to have personally transcribed all Shakespeare’s plays as they were dictated to him by the author – we seem quite unable to find anyone by that name of any significance. The only Caroline Criado Perez in our records appears to be some kind of desperate, attention-seeking, political activist cum low-rent blogger.

A: Yes. That’s the one.

Q: Then we can only assume that her OBE wasn’t the OBE but some similarly-named bauble of no significance.

A: Er, no. It’s the OBE. As in Order of the British Empire.

Q: Quite impossible! We’ve studied the history of the British Empire and it was kind of a big deal. We’ve read about Queen Victoria and Clive of India and the Charge of the Light Brigade and Scott of the Antarctic and Rorke’s Drift and the White Man’s Burden and all the incredible economic and scientific and intellectual advances that were made as a result of the money, power and influence which accrued from the Empire where the sun never set. So when you award one of your Queen’s subjects a medal named the Order of the British Empire that’s got to be a pretty big deal right? You’re not going to just hand it over willy nilly, to some hysterical, twittering, publicity-grubbing nobody?

A: So the more old-fashioned among us would have hoped, certainly.

Q: No. No! You have GOT TO BE JOKING. We know our history, we historians of the future, and one of things we know is that the Beatles – who are, only, like, the most famous pop band in the history of the universe – when they got their awards they weren’t even OBEs. They were MBEs. Which is one notch below. You’re not seriously telling us that between 1965 – when John, Paul, George and Ringo got their MBEs – and 2015, when Caroline Criado Perez got her OBE, that your culture became so grotesquely debased that some jumped up feminist troll was deemed superior in value and achievement to the creators of Eleanor Rigby, Strawberry Fields Forever, Helter Skelter and (our personal favourite in the future) Octopus’s Garden? Really?

A: Now you’re beginning to grasp this End of Western Civilization thing.

Q: OK. OK. Just to recap, so that we’re SURE we’re talking about the same woman. This Caroline Criado Perez’s most memorable achievement was launching a campaign to get the head of Jane Austen on a banknote. Not because Jane Austen was maybe the greatest novelist in the English language – which we could understand – but just to make the cheapshot feminist point that Jane Austen had a vagina whereas Dickens and Trollope didn’t?

A: You do sound refreshing un-PC in the future, I must say.

Q: Yeah well. We had to change. It was the only way we could start trying to recreate Western Civilization once this Caroline Criado Perez person had killed it. But look, we’re asking the questions here. We’re future historians. We NEED TO KNOW because there’s something about this whole banknote think that has been troubling us. Are we right in thinking that the person on the other side of the banknote was also female?

A: Yes. The Queen.

Q: But this Caroline Criado Perez felt, what, that was “sexist” or something? That only total domination of your banknotes by the female sex would do?

A: “Gender”. She would have preferred the term “gender.”

Q: Crikey, she sounds tiresome.

A: I think she would have considered that kind of language patriarchal, phallocentric and dismissive.

Q: I bet she would, the minx.

A: Wow! I’m loving this future of ours already.

Q: You say that. But you have no idea the horror the planet has to go through in order to get where we are. Fireships off the shoulder of Orion, my arse. We are talking ugly, ugly, ugly. Mind you, having said that, nothing quite as ugly as the awarding of the OBE to this annoying uber-talentless rabblerousing flibbertigibbet. Which is why I’ve got one more important question for you.

A: Go on.

Q: Well, it’s like this. Our records show that when the Beatles got their MBEs many earlier recipients of the award were so disgusted that they handed their gongs back in protest. Yet, we seem to have no evidence that Caroline Criado Perez’s OBE provoked a similar outbreak of high principle.

A: So your question is what exactly?

Q: Well it’s more of a rhetorical one, really. What can have happened to your culture that it became so vapid, spineless and worthless so quickly? Since when did you become so obsessed with this “equality” crap that it was allowed to trump all the things that once made Western Civilization great: your history, your traditions, your values, your heroic achievements, your quest for truth, beauty, wisdom, excellence?

Read at Breitbart London

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