The Officers Who Played Fireball Hockey with Me Have Been Scandalously Betrayed

Have you ever played fireball hockey? God, what a fantastic game! You wrap a bog roll in chicken wire, douse it in paraffin, set fire to it and then play hockey with it — preferably while drunk and wearing black tie, as I was lucky enough to do myself three years ago in front of the officers’ mess at the Norfolk HQ of the Light Dragoons. I’d been invited by their then CO, Lt Col Robin Matthews, who’d liked my book How To Be Right and wanted me to give his officers a pep talk. He explained: ‘A lot of these chaps are painfully aware how much money all their non-army friends are making [Gosh! That dates this story, doesn’t it?] and knowing you’re such a fan of the military I thought you could help remind them why they’re there.’

So that’s what I did. I told them how utterly crap life was in the real world (‘look at me: I’m a super-successful journalist, I meet lots of famous people, get dozens of CDs sent to me for review every week, am sent on the most stupendous travel freebies — but still it all completely sucks’), how soldiering was the most exciting and honourable profession, and the ‘war on terror’ was a noble and just one. At the time I was much more of a committed neocon than I am now, and was secretly quite pissed off when an earnest subaltern — one of the few non-public-school ones — came up to me afterwards to quibble with the general verdict that I was a splendid fellow who was quite right. ‘I still don’t see what we’re doing there,’ he said, meaning Iraq and Afghanistan. ‘Who are we to impose our values on cultures that don’t want them?’

After dinner, during the game of fireball hockey, I tried to show as much ‘form’ as possible. That lethal flaming bog roll could easily set your hair alight or char criss-cross marks into your skin, but you don’t want to be seen to flinch by men who are about to command light tank reconnaissance squadrons in Afghanistan, at the HQ of a regiment so dashing and brave that a mere squadron of its Hussar antecedents once captured a whole regiment of Frenchmen in the fog.

(to read more, click here)

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Lying Is Not the Way to Defeat the BNP

Do you remember earlier this month when the Government “proved” that there is “no bias in the allocation of social housing to immigrants”? I do, because Radio 4 didn’t stop crowing about it all day.

“So this totally nails once and for all the evil and racist myth that white, indigenous populations are discriminated against by housing officers,” ran the general tenor of Radio 4’s – and for that matter, all the print media’s – reporting of the issue. “Which means that not only are white, working class people even thicker and more wrong than we thought. But also, very probably, that ethnic communities and immigrants are more delightful and vibrant and generally cherishable than we had hitherto imagined.”

One problem with this factoid (which was announced with great fanfare by the Equality & Human Rights Commission (EHRC) in a report on July 7) is that it has no scientific, statistical or evidential basis whatsoever.

We now know this because a leading statistical analyst, Professor Mervyn Stone of University College, London, has done the homework the news outlets which uncritically regurgitated the EHRC’s nonsense should have done at the time.

His conclusion? That “the figures that EHRC has disseminated as if they were evidence for the claim are of zero inferential value.”

They are meaningless because they break one of the cardinal statistical rules of failing to compare like with like:

“In support of its claim, EHRC misrepresents the meaning of two factual assertions:

“1. That in 2007 ‘less than two per cent’ (1.8%) of social housing was occupied by migrants who arrived after 2002.
2. That ‘nine out of ten’ (87.8%) such homes were occupied by people born in the UK.”

“To make any sense at all, a comparison has to be like-with-like, but this contrast is no such thing.”

“In 2007, the social housing stock was four million of which 72,000 (1.8%) were occupied by migrants and 3,500,000 (87.8%) by UK born. To estimate the chance of a new-migrant applicant getting a home, you would have to divide the 72,000 by the total number of migrant applicants entitled to housing. To estimate the comparable chance for the UK-born, you would first have to establish the number allocated between 2002 and 2007, before dividing it by the number of UK-born applicants for the same period.”

“No calculation of that sort was done for the EHRC study. In fact, the extra data that would be needed to do it are nowhere to be found in the EHRC report. If it were done, the correction would almost certainly reduce the gap between the 1.8% and the 87.8%. Could it even be reversed and accepted as evidence against the EHRC claim? That is a possibility because, as the EHRC report concedes, ‘most new migrants have no entitlement to housing’ and because most of the 3,500,000 homes occupied by the UK-born will have been allocated before 2002.”

The weasel phrase which should have alerted us to this skullduggery, says the Professor, is the EHRC’s claim that its researchers “found no evidence to support the perception that new migrants are getting priority over UK born residents”.

“We have found no evidence that….” Yes, now I think it about it, its a lawyerly formulation you hear being used an awful lot by government ministers, quangocrats and liberal-left fellow-travellers on programmes like Today and Any Questions whenever they’re trying to wriggle out of a well-justified criticism.

This puts their critics in an impossible position: how can they ask for evidence that there is no evidence?

Civitas, the think tank which commissioned Professor Stone’s report, has now made a formal complaint to the UK Statistics Authority asking it to appraise the reliability of the statistical methods used by the report and the statistical reasoning that underlies its claims.

As Civitas’s director David Green rightly says: “Government agencies have a duty to use public funds to commission objective research but the EHRC has failed the meet even the minimal standards of statistical rigour that the public is entitled to expect.”

Fat lot of good his complaint will do. A lie is half way round the world before the truth has got its boots on. The Labour regime knows this. God how its politically correct Quangos know this! And they will go on lying and lying with virtual impunity till the happy day they’re booted out office.

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The Return of the Vinyl? How Britain Got Its Groove Back

On top of a brown Formica cabinet in a Portakabin office in an anonymous warehouse on the outskirts of London sits the most privileged record player in pop-music history.

The Garrard direct-drive turntable was the first outside a recording studio ever to play the Beatles’ Revolver and Sgt Pepper; the first to experience Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side Of The Moon; it was the first to be challenged by the Sex Pistols’ God Save the Queen; it was there at the birth of dance music; and it’s still going strong in the age of Arctic Monkeys, Animal Collective and Lily Allen.

Remember all that talk in the Eighties when shiny, allegedly indestructible CDs came out, about how the days of the LP were numbered? Well, just recently exactly the opposite has started to happen: it’s the CD, the experts are now saying, that will soon be obsolete. It’s vinyl that’s here to stay.

The Vinyl FactoryBack in business: The Vinyl factory company logo (left) logo and coloured petals of PVC

Back in business: The Vinyl factory company logo (left) logo and coloured petals of PVC

‘I’m surprised a vinyl industry still exists, but the fact that it does is tremendous,’ says Roy Matthews, 73, who has been working on and off at this vinyl factory since 1956 and is now its general manager. When he started it belonged to EMI.

Then in 2000 the EMI manufacturing complex was being sold and the plant was scheduled to close. It was bought by a pair of entrepreneurs, Mark Wadhwa and former Olympic sailor Tim Robinson, and now operates as The Vinyl Factory, manufacturing about 2.5 million records every year.

It’s the last of its kind, as the only major vinyl manufacturing plant left in the UK. The equipment and methods are unchanged, from the revered Garrard turntable on which the ‘positives’ (from which records are made) are checked for defects, to the sacks of black (or coloured) PVC pellets on the factory floor.

The pressing machine that today squashes out special collectors’ LP editions of Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett’s Monkey and the recent Pet Shop Boys album Yes is exactly the same one that pressed the original editions of Mike Oldfield‘s Tubular Bells and Queen’s a Night at the Opera now gathering dust on your shelves.

For audiophiles and musicians this is a happy vindication of something they’ve been saying for years: the sound you get from vinyl recording is so much better than what you get from a CD.

(to read more, click here)

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The ineffable wrongness and stupidity of Harriet Harman

“Ageist” BBC must reinstate Arlene, says Harman.

Until I read that headline, I thought I knew exactly where I stood on l’affaire Strictly Come Dancing. I’m old enough to remember getting jolly excited watching lovely Arlene Phillips and Hot Gossip pouting and bottom-waggling their way through I Lost My Heart To A Starship Trooper, so I’m also old enough to be bothered by talented people losing their jobs as a result of “ageism”. (Though the BBC, of course, denies that this was the reason it decided to replace Phillips, 66, with sexy, pouty, hot, vixen-babe, pop-star, baby-doll, nymphette, chick Alesha Dixon, 30.)

Now that Harriet Harman has intervened, however, I have shifted my position completely. Everything this bossy, interfering, and – for a QC and an ex Paulina – quite astonishingly thick class traitor ever says in that dreary fake-pleb accent of hers is stupid and wrong, be it on the subject of  female equality or television game show casting. If she told me sharks were vicious, deadly maneaters I would confidently dive into a tank full of ravening great whites, secure in the knowledge that I would come to no harm.

It is for this reason, I can now declare with absolute certainty that Arlene Phillips is a lame old hag who totally had it coming to her, that there’s no one on earth who less deserves to be a Strictly Come Dancing judge and that anyone would have done the job than her better up to and including Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Kim Jong Il or the late Dame Thora Hird.

Sorry, Arlene.

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Camp it Up | James Delingpole

July 17, 2009

Here’s the fundamental problem with family camping holidays: husband and kids love them, wife pretends to but secretly finds the squalor, the poor lighting, and the lack of bathrooms with fluffy white towels a bit yuck.

And the solution? Glamping. It’s short for ‘glamorous camping’, the theory being that you get to enjoy all the things that are special about life under canvas (proximity to nature; birdsong; sense of pioneering adventure, etc) but with the ghastliness (bad backs, rudimentary loos) edited out.

We tried it over a long weekend in some woods outside York (not far from the battleground of Stamford Bridge) at a site run by Christian and Carolyn, who used to own the weirdest restaurant in London, which was half fireplace showroom, half bijou eaterie, and they’ve done the job just brilliantly.

(to read more, click here)

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Wind Farms: The Death of Britain

Britain: 2015

“How the hell did we let that happen?” we often ask ourselves when we look at the brutalist monstrosity tower blocks which we allowed to blight our towns in the sixties. In a few decades’ time we’re going to be asking exactly the same question about the 300 foot wind turbines ruining what’s left of Britain’s wilderness.

And a bit like the perpetrators of terrible sixties architecture now, no one’s going to be able to come up with a satisfactory answer because, quite simply, there isn’t one: wind turbines are a bad idea in almost every way imaginable.

They don’t work when there’s no wind.

They don’t work when it’s too windy.

They produce so little power – and so unreliably and erratically – that even if you put one on every hill top in Britain you’d still need to rely on nuclear, coal and gas-generated electricity for your main source of energy.

They chew up flying wildlife and scare horses.

They produce a subsonic hum which drives you mad if you’re downwind of them.

They turn pristine landscape into Teletubby-style horror visions.

They destroy property values.

They steal light.

They’re visible for miles around so that just when you’re thinking you’ve got away from it all you’re reminded of man’s grim presence by the whirling white shapes on the horizon.

They’re environmentally damaging: their massive concrete bases alone requiring enough concrete to fill two Olympic-size swimming pools; then there’s the access roads that have to be built through the unspoilt landscape to put them up in the first place.

They’re twice as expensive as conventionally-produced electricity.

They make you feel a bit queasy, especially the three-bladed ones whose asymmetry is disturbing.

To supply the equivalent output of one nuclear power station you’d need a wind farm the size of Greater Manchester.

When I wrote all this a couple of years ago in How To Be Right, my polemical A to Z of everything wrong with Blair’s and Brown’s Britain, I did think I was erring slightly towards the Dystopian.

The “wind turbines” entry was more of a warning of the awful things that could go wrong if the more extreme eco-nutters got their way and the government completely lost its head. Not even in my darkest moments did I imagine that this nightmare vision would come true.

Why? Well, apart from anything else, because the British landscape is our greatest asset, the thing that makes so proud to have been born here and to live here. In July, I’ll be walking with my family in the near-deserted hills of the Welsh Borders; in late August, I’ll be in Scotland wandering amid the purple heather of the Highlands; in October, the coastal path round Prawle Point and Bolt Head. I love swimming in burns, rock pools, rivers, beneath waterfalls, in the sea off South Dorset.  I count it one of my greatest privileges to have been hunting over the stone walls of the Cotswolds and the steep valleys of Exmoor. Few things make me happier or more glad to be alive than the joy that so much of our countryside remains so pristine and stunningly beautiful.

And now, in the name of environmentalism, to serve a cause – CO2 reduction – that will not make the blindest bit of difference to global climate, our Government is destroy this landscape.

Well I suppose they would. They’re Labour and they’ve never really understood the country in the way the Conservatives do.

Or rather, the way the Conservatives did. For, it would seem judging from the comments of Tory environment spokesman Greg Clark that the Conservatives now hate our countryside just as much as Labour does.

To me, it quite beggars belief that a party led by an ex-hunting man representing as beautiful a rural seat as Witney should yet fail to take a stand on this, the gravest environmental threat to Britain in our lifetime. Wind farms are a disaster and an act of lunacy. If the Tories refuse to take a stand against them, they most definitely do not deserve our vote.

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Miliband’s Brilliant Plan to Combat Climate Change: ‘We’ll Export Unicorns to China’

Negative jobs, negative energy

Ed Miliband can't sort out his accent, so what does he have against "climate change"?

Ed Miliband can’t even sort out his accent, so what hope does he have against ‘climate change’? (Photo: PA)

My all-time favourite story from the spot-on news satire website The Daily Mash was the one sending up Alistair Darling’s pitiful attempts to rescue the British economy. Among his brilliant schemes was a plan to breed unicorns and sell them to Chinese millionaires.

“The chancellor would invest public money in up to a dozen unicorn farms across the country churning out thousands of magical horses which would then be vacuum packed and shipped to the Far East.”

“Mr Darling believes that at £250,000 a unicorn the government could have paid back its £120bn of borrowing by the time Star Trek becomes reality.”

So it was with a tremendous sense of deja vu that I heard Energy and Climate Change Secretary Ed Miliband talking on this morning’s Today programme about his radical and costly new measures to tackle “global warming”.

There are, of course, many things to loathe about Ed Miliband: his wonky, slightly sinister face like a giant egg with a hedgehog on top; the way he says “sure” all the time; his Estuarial inability to pronounce his final consonants; the fact that there’s not just him but his ruddy brother too; the annoying missing “l” in his surname; but definitely the worst is the drivel this grinning eco loon is allowed to spout, largely unchallenged, on “climate change.”

This morning he claimed that by 2015 the miseries of his strict new energy policy will be partly offset by the creation of 400,000 “green jobs”. Oh really? These would presumably be green jobs not unlike the ones in President Obama’s much-cited windpowered economic miracle Spain, would they? The ones that actually destroy 2.2 other jobs for every green job that is created?

Yes, this was the truly depressing conclusion of a study published earlier this year by Dr Gabriel Calzada, a Spanish economics professor at Madrid’s Juan Carlos University.

“The study calculated that, since 2000, Spain spent $774,000 to create each “green job”, including subsidies of more than $1.3 million per wind industry job. It found that creating those jobs resulted in the destruction of nearly 113,000 jobs elsewhere in the economy, or 2.2 jobs destroyed for every “green job” created. Principally, jobs were lost in the fields of metallurgy, non-metallic mining and food processing, beverage and tobacco.”

Needless to say his BBC interviewer – the normally sound, but clearly not in this case Ed Stourton – did not call Miliband on this empty claim. Nor did Stourton raise any objection when Miliband produced the still-more-outrageous whopper that the English landscape is in greater danger from climate change than it is from windfarms. (Do read the great Christopher Booker on this subject today)

No it isn’t, Ed. Why do you think, all over the British countryside, there are dozens of campaign groups desperately trying to stop these monstrosities being erected on our beautiful landscape? Why do you think Miliband is now changing the planning laws so that local objections can be more easily overruled? Because no one, except a few politicians and eco-nutters and slippery eco-investors actually wants windfarms ruining Britain. Together with bio-fuels they’re arguably the greatest man-made eco-disaster of the last twenty years.

What a relief it would be to think that when New Labour are finally booted out, and Ed Miliband gets his new job as a mannikin in the shop window of Debenhams, that we’ll finally get a regime talking some sense on climate change.

Sadly, this is not to be. Cameron’s Conservatives are every bit as determined to impose ruinous carbon emissions targets on our groaning economy as Brown’s Socialists. Consider Tory energy spokesman Greg Clark’s pathetic response yesterday to Miliband’s “UK Low Carbon Transition Plan”.

Did Clark talk about the nonsense of green jobs? Did he protest about the 30 per cent rise in our energy prices? Did he point out the economic unfeasibility of trying to cut carbon emissions by 80 per cent by 2050? Did he talk about the imminent threat of brown-outs because of the energy gap caused by successive governments’ failure to duck the issue of nuclear power?

Er, no. He just said – like the joke Irishman giving directions who says “If you want to get there I wouldn’t start from here” – that “households would end up paying because of the Government’s failure to act soon enough.”

Related posts:

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Honours Quotas: Why All Mustn’t Have Prizes

Including more “X” means less “Y”

I have just come back from my daughter’s school sports day – one of those old fashioned affairs where winners are allowed to win and losers to lose – and the delight on the children’s faces as they competed viciously, desperately and passionately with one another in everything from the tug of war to the three-legged race was a joy to behold.

But are we sure he's African/Chinese/female or disabled enough?

But are we sure he’s African/Chinese/female or disabled enough?

Winning matters. Politically correct games where everyone wins in order to spare the losers the pain of losing are no fun at all. Children instinctively understand this, even if “Progressive” adults do not. If Girl was at one of those ghastly schools with one of those right-on head teachers who bans competitive sports in the name of “fairness”, I think I should be inclined to complain to the governors for permitting such wanton cruelty. Not only does it discriminate against all the athletically-gifted kids by denying them the chance to shine. But it also instills in children the ludicrous idea that life is fair, and non-competitive, and feeling-nurturing, and loser-friendly, thus setting them up nicely to be eaten alive when they encounter the real world.

But just when one or two brave state schools – such as my daughter’s splendid Church of England Primary – have started to take a stand against this nonsense, it seems that our increasingly risible government is determined to spread its ludicrous all-shall-have-prizes ethos still further across our poisoned realm.

According to yesterday’s Sunday Telegraph:

“The Cabinet Office, which oversees the honours process, has told Whitehall departments submitting nominations to ensure that their lists include more female and non-white candidates.”

“The instruction was disclosed in a letter seen by The Sunday Telegraph in which Hayley Harris, the Deputy Honours Secretary at the Department for Communities and Local Government, demanded that more than half of all local government candidates put forward for next year’s Queen’s Birthday Honours must be women.”

Let’s pause just a moment, shall we, to have a quick vomit that there actually exists in the Government a position called “Deputy Honours Secretary at the Department for Communities and Local Government”, that she has power and that, through our taxes, we are paying for her utterly pointless work. Right, now let us carry on. The story continues:

“In her letter, sent to John Ransford, the chief executive of the Local Government Association, Mrs Harris also made clear that there should be more candidates from two specific ethnic groups, “Black African” and “Chinese”, which had allegedly been “under represented” in the past.

“The continuing disproportionate shortfall in the number of female candidates is a matter of serious concern,” she wrote on June 18.

“It is not acceptable that the number of women put forward for honours from all sources is so far below the proportion in society as a whole.”

“This is a matter which we are expected to address this round and in future rounds by ensuring that 55 per cent of our candidates put forward to the Cabinet Office are women.”

Presumably the Government will now be remedying this appalling imbalance by sending out Honours staff – perhaps even Mrs Harris herself – to hang out at ethnically-favoured areas such as Brixton market with bags of OBEs, knighthoods and such like. Perhaps they could even open a stall.

“Honours! Honours! Come and get your honours. No talent necessary. How about you sir. Yes, sir – no not you with the dreadlocks and red gold and green woollie hat, you’re the wrong kind of black – you sir, with the fetching tribal scars, are you from Africa, by any chance?”

As a white, middle-class male – about the most-discriminated-against group in Britain – I naturally resent this policy quite a bit. But not nearly as much as I’d resent it were I a female and/or black African and/or Chinese person who’d been given an honour in the last few years.

There these people were  imagining that they’d been given their awards for some signal and exemplary service to the nation. And now, suddenly, in the name of “equality” and “fairness”, they are effectively being told by the State – “Sorry, but we consider you slightly, manky second-rate citizens who aren’t really capable of winning prizes on your own merit. So we’ve decided to make you feel better about your inadequacies by skewing the system in your favour.”

If I were in these people’s shoes, I think I’d be inclined to hand back my MBE or CBE or whatever in protest. If a prize is worth winning, it’s worth winning on merit and merit alone. Which is why I have absolutely no hesitation in awarding this week’s coveted Prize Prat Award to – yes let’s pass that sickbag one more time – the Deputy Honours Secretary at the Department for Communities and Local Government.

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Obama: When All Else Fails, Blame Dubya and the CIA

Did you hear about the captured Russian gunship pilot shot down in Eighties Afghanistan? (If you’re of a squeamish disposition, I’d skip to the next par). First they gave him tea; then they gave him heroin, then they chopped his foot off, then they raped him; then, once he’d recovered from the first amputation – nurtured of course by traditional Pashtun hospitality – they raped him some more, before chopping off another of his limbs. And so on – nice, nasty, nice, nasty – until they had tired of their plaything and granted him the mercy of death.

The only detail of that true story that I’m not sure I’ve got exactly right is when they administered the heroin: was it before or after the amputations? But I don’t think anyone familiar with Afghanistan would doubt its essential veracity. Similar stories come out of Helmand every day: girls having acid thrown in their faces for attending school; school teachers being hung, drawn and quartered or crucified for having the temerity to teach girls or disobey the Taliban. It’s just how the Afghans are: tough on human rights; tough on the causes of human rights; definitely not the kind of people you’d ask to babysit your kitten while you were away on your summer hols.

President Obama: palpably upset and concerned at being forced, much against his will, to blame his predecessor for EVERYTHING.

So how come this message appears completely to have eluded the current President of the USA? Has none of his advisors read Kipling? Or the first Flashman book? Or heard or read a single thing about Afghanistan or the bad stuff that happens there? Only President Obama appears to have got it into his head that what the Afghans are really crying out for now to make everything better is for the US to launch an inquiry into how the human rights of certain captured Taliban might have been abused in November 2001 by an Afghan warlord Gen Abdul Rashid Dostum. To whit, he killed the lot of them – 100s, if not 1000s and buried them in a mass grave.

Now, POTUS has promised to launch a full investigation into the incident – for reasons of course which have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Dostum was on the payroll of the CIA and therefore, by extension, of the Evil Bush Administration. (Hat Tip: Jake Tapper)

“If it appears that our conduct in some way supported violations of the laws of war, then I think that, you know, we have to know about that,” said Obama.

Really? Of course, one is saddened by the terrible fate administered to those peace-loving Taliban by the horrid Gen Dostum; of course, it is a grievous pity that they are no longer around to blow American, British and Canadian boys to pieces with IEDs or throw acid at schoolgirls or mutilate schoolteachers. Yes, it goes without saying that this is not the way Western forces ought ever to be encouraged to treat their prisoners.

But the point surely here is that these prisoners weren’t in the hands of Western forces. They were in the hands of an Afghan general who found an Afghan solution to an Afghan problem. And isn’t this, after all, the thing the Allied coalition is supposed to be encouraging in Afghanistan right now? We have, after all, come to accept after eight years of near-fruitless slog that we’re not going to win total military victory, let alone transform Afghanistan into a Western-style democracy. So where’s all this nonsense suddenly coming from that the US’s most urgent priority there is to investigate the killing of Taliban  by a non-American in the chaos and mayhem immediately following 9/11? (And incidentally if killing Taliban – plus sundry innocent civilians – is really such a problem, oughtn’t Obama to be investigating himself?)

Surely it can have nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Obama’s poll ratings are falling, his economic policy is failing, unemployment is rising, his universal healthcare plan stalling, his cap n trade running into serious opposition, and his Afghan adventure looking more and more likely to turn into his Vietnam?

Surely a man as palpably noble and decent as Obama would never be so unprincipled as to try – for a second time in three months – to court cheap popularity with his nation’s enemies by undermining his own intelligence services and blaming everything on the CIA and George W Bush?

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Memo to Prince Charles: CO2 Is Not a Pollutant. CO2 Is Plant Food

Destructive protectionism

For those of us who still believe in logic, reason, empiricism, rationality, commonsense, economy reality and our inalienable right not to have trillions and trillions of our pounds, euros and dollars flushed down to the toilet to no purpose whatsoever, listening to the Prince of Wales’s pronouncements on “man made global warming” is becoming an increasingly trying experience.

ManBearPig: the world’s deadliest threat. Well, if you’re Prince Charles

In the Spectator today, I interview an Australian geology professor called Ian Plimer whose brilliant new book – Heaven And Earth – is rightly being hailed as the one that is going to nail once and for all the crazy myth that man’s contribution to “climate change” is remotely significant, let alone something we should worry about or waste money trying to stop.

As Professor Plimer observes with characteristic Aussie bluntness: “CO2 is not a pollutant. CO2 is plant food.”

Yet so many of the ruinously expensive policies being formulated on our behalf by everyone from Barack Obama to EU president (and former Maoist) Jose Manuel Barroso to Ed Miliband to (God help us) David Cameron’s Conservatives are based on the scientifically groundless urban myth that human generated CO2 (quite minuscule, anyway, compared with the quantities of greenhouse gases volcanoes belch or even cows fart) is the most dangerous substance on earth.

Prince Charles is fond of telling us that we only have 100 months left to save the earth. (Apparently down to 96 now, or so he claimed in his recent Dimbleby lecture). But I’d say the time we have left to save the world is quite significantly less than that. Not from the perfectly natural process of climate change, of course, but the far far greater threat of climate change alarmism.

Unless those of us with more than half a brain cell unite and act soon, the earth is going to fall prey to  the most destructive, expensive, suicidally pointless taxation and regulation and protectionism in global economic history. We simply cannot afford any longer to allow the likes of the Prince Of Wales, Al Gore, NASA activist James Hansen, Lord Stern and their amen corner in the mainstream media to go on pushing their ludicrous scare story unchallenged.

Right now, out there in the real world, are numerous genuine ecological challenges that urgently need addressing: the decline of fish (thanks European Union fisheries policy!); pollution; diminishing water tables; deforestation; overpopulation; and the great eco-disaster that are bio-fuels. The Quixotic quest to arrest “climate change” – something that has been happening for 4,567 million years regardless of man’s input – is a silly and expensive distraction.

What’s particularly galling about the most outspoken supporters of climate change taxation and regulation is that many of them either are rich enough not to be affected by it or – worse – stand to make vast fortunes as a result of it.

The Prince of Wales is a case in point. When you’re on a salary of £18 million, as he is, you’re probably not going to be bothered overmuch by tiny details such as your gas and electricity bills doubling because of green taxes on carbon emissions. You’re not even going to mind, that much, that if Barack Obama’s new $7.4 trillion cap and trade tax on carbon emissions is introduced the global economic recovery is going to be set by a generation. Indeed, it’s probably very much in the Prince’s interests that we should all be rendered so poor that we can’t even afford to run our cars any more. It will leave Britain’s roads free for Charlie to pootle about as freely as he wishes in his bio-ethanol-powered Aston Martin.

Poop! Poop!

Related posts:

  1. Is Prince Charles ill-advised, or merely idiotic?
  2. Prince of Wales to give up his Aston Martin, two Jags, two Audis and Range Rover to save planet. Not.
  3. How the British Establishment is conspiring to prop up the AGW myth
  4. WTF? Prince of Wales tells disgraced CRU: ‘Well done, all of you!’

 

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