In Ross Kemp the Kurds Have Found Their Byron: Sky 1’s The Fight Against Isis Reviewed

Ross Kemp: The Fight Against ISIS (Photo: Dave Williams / Sound Ltd)

For the Guardian’s reviewer, however, Kemp was engaged in some kind of macho death urge as he heroically laid his arse on the line in northern Syria.

Before I set about reviewing Ross Kemp: The Fight Against Isis (Sky 1), I thought I’d have a glance to see whether other critics had been as impressed as I was. Clearly the flip groovester from the Guardian — who opened, inevitably, with a jaunty quip about Grant from EastEnders — had seen a very different documentary from the one I saw. Otherwise, he could not have failed to be moved by Kemp’s heartbreaking interview with the Yazidi woman from Sinjar who’d recently escaped from Isis.

Her 10-year-old daughter squatted beside her — only survivor of the five children she had had when Isis captured her town. The eldest (11) had been immediately commandeered as a sex slave; the three youngest had been deliberately poisoned a few months later by Isis when the family had tried to escape. Pictures of their bodies were posted on social media as a warning to others.

What struck me — as it does time and again with footage like this from Iraq and Syria — is these people’s matter of fact tone as they recount atrocities more befitting the era of the Mongol horde than the age of safe spaces, transgender toilets and Pokémon Go. ‘They killed my mother in front of me,’ volunteers a middle-aged man with a moustache, almost as an afterthought. Horror has become so commonplace they have been brutalised into a numbness you might easily mistake for indifference.

You saw this most chillingly in the eyes of an IS fighter who’d been caught in a police sweep of a recently captured village. His face was hidden by a balaclava; all you could see were murky dead eyes which didn’t even have the decency to look haunted. He’d joined mainly for the $70-a-month regular income, he told Kemp, first al-Qaeda then IS. No, he hadn’t personally beheaded people — they had specialists to do that. And did he have any regrets? ‘When you get captured you look at it and ask: “What is all this for?”,’ said the man, flat and empty, like really all that murdering and crucifixion had been a bit of a fag which, yeah, come to think of it probably hadn’t been the best career move.

Read the rest in the Spectator.

Project Grief: Remain’s Dirty Politicking Has Hit an All-Time Low

The morning after a senseless tragedy which has appalled the whole of Britain I’d like to ask you a simple question:

Is there any depth to which you will not stoop in order somehow to snatch victory in this EU referendum?

The answer I’m getting from some of you is: “Nope. None.”

Here’s Alex Massie in the Spectator. Having generously acknowledged that “Nigel Farage isn’t responsible for Jo Cox’s murder. And nor is the Leave campaign”, he then suggests that no, actually, they were.

But, still. Look. When you encourage rage you cannot then feign surprise when people become enraged. You cannot turn around and say, ‘Mate, you weren’t supposed to take it so seriously. It’s just a game, just a ploy, a strategy for winning votes.’

Let me precis for you, Alex, what you’re trying to say in your oh-so-subtle way: “Vote Leave. Vote Fascism. Vote Murder in the Streets.”

Here, is the Guardian’s Polly Toynbee playing a similar game.

First the disclaimer:

There are many decent people involved in the campaign to secure Britain’s withdrawal from the EU, many who respect the referendum as the exercise in democracy that it is.

Now the inevitable “but…”

But there are others whose recklessness has been open and shocking. I believe they bear responsibility, not for the attack itself, but for the current mood: for the inflammatory language, for the finger-jabbing, the dogwhistling and the overt racism.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

Muslim Fan: Jesse Hughes Is ****ing Stupid to Blame Bataclan Massacre on Islam

Well, thanks to the music press, the Guardian and the organisers of at least two rock festivals in France we know that the correct answer, the only answer, goes something like this:

“Islam is a religion of peace. That’s why I know in my heart that this atrocity had nothing to do with Islam. The fact that the gunmen were shouting Allahu Akhbar as they machinegunned the audience – in those moments when they weren’t pausing to torture the poor guys in wheelchairs or finish off the wounded – was entirely coincidental. Also, I would like to pay especial tribute to those Muslim members of the security staff who, instead of joining in with the killers, acted with amazing generosity by opening the exit doors so that some of the audience could get away…”

Unfortunately, Jesse Hughes of Eagles Of Death Metal didn’t give the correct answer regarding his experiences at the Bataclan massacre in Paris in November last year.

He doesn’t want to prettify what happened; he does think it was caused by a clash between a kind of surrender-monkey Western liberalism and militant Islamic ideology.

Which is why he has had his shows cancelled by the organisers of two French rock festivals and why he is now the subject of an angry letter to the Guardian by a Muslim fan who attended the Bataclan gig accusing Hughes of “fucking dangerous” stupidity in his remarks about Islam.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

When It’s OK For Murderous Terrorists to Use the N Word: The Guardian Explains…

a) dragging a mother-of-ten kicking and screaming from her home in front of her kids, brutally interrogating her, shooting her in the back of the head and then burying her in an unmarked grave?

or

b) using the “N” word in a tweet?

Well the answer if you’re an enlightened leftist is b) obviously. We know this from a cracking article in today’s Guardian by Gary Younge called Racism Is A System Of Oppression, Not A Series Of Bloopers. Younge, being black, has taken on himself to adjudicate on what he calls an “off-colour” tweet by the murderous ex-terrorist Gerry Adams, which made use of the “N” word.

Though he has consistently denied it, it is an open secret that Gerry Adams – now president of Sinn Fein – was a senior commander of the IRA during the Troubles in Ireland and according to several former IRA members has much blood on his hands. There are photographs of him acting as pallbearer at IRA funerals; he was described by former IRA commander Brendan Hughes as a “major, major player in the war”; and among his many alleged victims is Jean McConville, the mother murdered in 1972 – according to at least two witnesses on Adams’s orders – because she was mistakenly believed to be a collaborator.

You might think that, given a track record like that, the odd use of an offensive racial epithet on social media was the least of Adams’s image problems.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

Ex-Times-Of-London Editor: ‘The Scariest Thing about Brussels Is Our Reaction to It.’

Really?

Scarier than, say, being one of the two London businessmen now lying in a Brussels hospital with “life-changing injuries” having taken the full force of the airport nail bomb which killed at least 14 people and hideously shredded many more?

Scarier than being one of the passengers on the Brussels underground at 9.11 on a Tuesday morning hearing the olive-skinned man with the suicide belt yelling the last words you’ll ever hear: “Allahu Akbar”?

Sorry, Simon. I’m not buying it. You’re talking theory: this thing you’ve read in some dry-as-dust, surrender monkey textbook about how by reacting to “terror” we’re “doing what the terrorists want.”

Whereas I’m talking practice. Most of us — not you Simon, obviously, you’re above such trivial concerns — have a very simple wish. When we go to watch a marathon, or a rock concert, or out for dinner, or to a Christmas party, or to take a bus, or to catch a plane, or to a football match, or shopping, or to a hotel, what we’d like very much, if it’s all the same with you, Simon, is not to have lurking at the back of our minds the nagging worry that we might be blown up or shot or otherwise murdered by brutalised adherents of a religious death cult.

Sure it means we’re not as sophisticated as you. It makes us a bunch of scaredy-cat babies, possibly. But when we read you write a paragraph like the one I’m about to reproduce below, it inclines many of us to think — not for the first time in your writing career, it must be said — that you’ve utterly lost touch with the world inhabited by normal, sane people.

Textbooks on terrorism define its effects in four stages: first the horror, then the publicity, then the political grandstanding, and finally the climactic shift in policy. The initial act is banal. The atrocities in Brussels happen almost daily on the streets of Baghdad, Aleppo and Damascus. Western missiles and Isis bombs kill more innocents in a week than die in Europe in a year. The difference is the media response. A dead Muslim is an unlucky mutt in the wrong place at the wrong time. A dead European is front-page news.

Just that short sentence “The initial act is banal” deserves you a “dhimmi loon of the year” award. In its lofty callousness it’s right up with “You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs” attitude of Stalinists who think “one death is a tragedy but a million is a statistic.”

As for this idea you have that because lots of people die violently every week in the Baghdad, Aleppo and Damascus we therefore should suddenly feel OK about being slaughtered on the streets of Brussels, Paris, Madrid, Boston, London, San Bernardino or wherever, actually, Simon, no, this is bollocks of such cast-iron, weapons-grade quality I’m frankly amazed that as you typed it your keyboard didn’t dissolve in contempt and ridicule that such fifth-form fatuousness should have emerged from the supposedly educated brain of a St John’s, Oxford graduate.

Baghdad, Aleppo and Damascus, Simon, are all in countries engaged in bloody sectarian civil wars where life, unfortunately, is cheap.

This is not the case in the U.S. and Europe.

Life is expensive where we are — and rightly so because our Judaeo-Christian civilisation, filtered through the Enlightenment, has fought hard over the centuries to make it more valuable. That’s why we have the rule of law and property rights and habeas corpus and politeness and a welfare safety net and freedom of expression and protection for minorities and all the civilised things they tend not to have in life-is-cheap places like Africa and the Middle East.

Read the rest at Breitbart.

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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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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As Farage Has Just Been Reminded, There’s No Fascist Like a Liberal Fascist

March 23, 2015

Suppose Labour leader Ed Miliband had been out yesterday for a quiet bacon sandwich with his wife and kids only to be harassed and terrorised by a bunch of protestors from the Daily Mail. Can you imagine the coverage it would get on the BBC and in the Guardian?

And what about if Green party leader Natalie Bennett had a few friends round for a vegan barbecue, only to be driven from their supplies of tofu and mung beans and cucumber dip by a crowd of Spectator journalists dressed in pin stripe suits and bowler hats?

There’s a reason you can’t imagine these scenarios, except in jest. It’s because the right-leaning media just doesn’t promote or engage in political activism in the way that the left-leaning media does, especially not the kind of direct action stunt we saw yesterday being carried out against Nigel Farage by a mob led by an activist (and occasional Guardian columnist) called Dan Glass. (h/t Bishop Hill)

The Guardian clearly loves Dan Glass. Here’s what it had to say a few years back about his work “fighting to stop the injustice of climate change.”

Dan Glass, 27, activist

“Whenever anybody sticks their head above the parapet they’re seen as a lunatic, but we need to show the inadequacies of the legal system for protecting the earth.”

Youth climate activists blog : Dan GlassDan was recently named one of Attitude Magazine’s 66 new role models for his work on bridging the gay rights and environmental justice movements. He revels in creating militant but cheeky ways to be a “thorn in the side of those destroying the planet”; he has stuck himself to a former prime minister, occupied Aberdeen airport, danced with old ladies blighted by flightpaths, and worked in deprived inner-city communities with So We Stand. Dan has spent much of 2010 in court, over action he took with protest group Plane Stupid at Aberdeen airport, and is now on trial for allegedly conspiring to shut down Ratcliffe-on-Soar coal-fired power station (the verdict is expected today). You can read his article on the disproportionate effects of climate change on marginalised communities in December’s Attitude magazine – it’s the one with lots of naked men on the cover.

Besides having run three columns by Glass, the Guardian has also given space to the Trotskyite burblings of perma-revolutionary Eva Jasiewicz – another member of the fancy dress mob who harrassed the Farages at the weekend.  And also to this woman, Pennie Quinton who was also boasting on Twitter about her involvement in the anti-UKIP renta-mob. See also Guardian contributor Emily Churchill (no relation, one imagines), who crowed about having helped ruin the Farage family lunch with the phrase “We are family!”

Now you could argue that the Guardian can’t be held responsible for the actions of a few idiots who have written for it in the past. Maybe not. But what you can most definitely blame it for, I think, is the uncritical coverage it gives both to them individually (see flattering profile of Glass above) and collectively at protests everywhere from Kingsnorth to Balcombe.

Whether these protests are about breast-feeding or coal-fired power or fracking or neonicotinoids or bankers or air travel, what you find time and again is the same hardcore of activists at the heart of each protest. The cause seems to be almost an irrelevance. What counts far more is the intensity of their shrill self-righteousness and the corresponding passion of their hatred for whichever particular target they happen to be protesting against on that particular day.

You can see that self-righteousness in some of the comments below the Guardian’s report on the Farage affair. Here’s one from a charmer calling himself “Postcolonial”.

Well I suppose they could have tarred and feathered him. But we can still dream.

And here is the Guardian’s columnist Suzanne Moore telling us that the protestors who had Farage’s children fleeing in fear were just a lovely, harmless, playful bunch really and that the Farages over-reacted…

Those protesting against Farage were in fancy dress, which is why the pub owners thought it was some kind of birthday party. They called themselves “a cabaret of diversity” and were seeking to represent some of the groups Farage has offended: “Migrants, HIV activists, gay people, disabled people and breast-feeding mothers.” No doubt this boisterous group may have seemed a bit scary although, to be honest, it all looked harmlessly theatrical in the pictures.

The worst thing that Moore can find to say about the incident is that it may play to Farage’s advantage.

And actually, it may backfire for other reasons too, because increasingly Farage plays the victim. And this allows him to. He can present himself as the innocent victim of attacks by fruitcakes, when, in fact, he spends most of his time attacking the vulnerable.

(If Moore had wanted to make the point with the charm and wit of which unfortunately she is incapable, she might have nicked this, much funnier analysis from a Guardian commentator called Boynamedstu: “Because nothing will make people considering voting for UKIP change their mind than a coachload of inner city dwelling, unemployed drama graduates and soap dodgers intimidating him and scaring his kids while he is out for a Sunday lunch. These arsehats have probably done more to increase the UKIP vote than a front page picture of a Romanian eating a swan while shitting on a Princess Di commemorative tea towel.”)

Read the thrilling, insightful, moving pay off at Breitbart London

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Guardian Editor-in-Chief Hits Peak Stupid

I’d been meaning to write today about why Oxford University should divest itself of one of its zoology graduates. But I’m afraid that will have to wait because I’ve just read today’s Guardian cover story and have realised that the stupid runs much deeper than George Monbiot and goes right to the top.

The piece is sub-headed “Why it’s time to start divesting from the companies that already have far more fossil fuels than they can ever be allowed to use” and it’s written by the newspaper’s editor-in-chief Alan Rusbridger.

Now in the past I have been fairly agnostic about Rusbridger. His Harry Potterish appearance, his Quixotic secret ambition to be a concert pianist, his £400,000 salary package and his public school education (Cranleigh) all led me to believe that, for all the ghastliness of his newspaper’s politics, he was deep down a loveably ramshackle closet capitalist and probably not nearly as brainlessly left-wing as the Guardian.

What changed my view first was the Guardian’s disgusting complicity in the Edward Snowden intelligence leaks. Amazingly Rusbridger’s newspaper shared a Pulitzer prize for this, despite growing evidence that these leaks have done untold damage to the security of both Britain and the US and have certainly aided and abetted Islamist terror groups like ISIS.

Now Rusbridger has jumped onto yet another suicidal bandwagon, this time cheerleading a campaign for all the world’s big institutions, fund managers and so on to “divest” their share portfolios of their fossil fuel holdings. (Among the logos of companies featured on the Guardian’s cover as examples of “the most polluting coal, gas and oil companies in the world” is that of Shell, which for a long time sponsored the Guardian’s Environment pages. I hope Shell appreciates this display of gratitude).

In vain, though, do you find in Rusbridger’s lengthy apologia for this campaign any evidence as to why it is justified.

It is, rather, little more than a collection of slogans and dubious assertions. This first paragraph gives you a taste.

The world has much more coal, oil and gas in the ground than it can safely burn. That much is physics. Anyone studying the question with an open mind will almost certainly come to a similar conclusion: if we and our children are to have a reasonable chance of living stable and secure lives 30 or so years from now, according to one recent study 80 per cent of the known coal reserves will have to stay underground, along with half the gas and a third of the oil reserves.

This is scientific, political, economic and social illiteracy. It presupposes, first, that the case for man-made global warming theory is proven (which – duh – it so totally isn’t); and second, that all the nations of the world will have the collective will refuse to take advantage of the natural resources beneath their seas and their soil on the say so of kooks like the Prince of Wales, Al Gore and Alan Rusbridger. I particularly love that phrase “anyone studying the question with an open mind….”, which clearly doesn’t apply to Rusbridger himself. If it did, he would surely at least have acquainted himself with the fact the 87 per cent of the world’s energy demand is currently satisfied by fossil fuels and that renewable energy has proved itself quite unable to replace them on any economically viable level.

Read the rest at Breitbart London

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The Establishment’s Attacks on UKIP Are Doomed to Backfire

By “the Establishment” I don’t, of course, mean the toffee-nosed, elitist right-wing conspiracy which exists largely in the perfervid imaginations of Russell Brand and Owen Jones.

I mean the new progressive Establishment which has dominated the cultural and political argument since at least the Blair era: the quangos, the seats of academe, the politically correct corporatists, the Eurocrats, the congenitally bien-pensant luvvies, the liberal media from the Guardian to the BBC, the charities, the identikit politicos in the Westminster bubble. They want to destroy UKIP not out of high principle but simply because it represents such a threat to the communitarian status quo. Here are some examples.

The Electoral Commission

In Standpoint Nigel Vinson tells the full, shocking story of how the Electoral Commission deprived UKIP of two MEP seats in the European elections in May – essentially by rigging the ballot paper.

A hitherto unknown party calling itself An Independence From Europe was allowed by the Electoral Commission onto the top of the ballot paper – and went on to claim nearly a quarter of a million votes from confused people who had almost certainly meant to vote UKIP.

The seats went to Green MEPs instead. At the time UKIP didn’t make a big deal of this, presumably because it didn’t want to sound petulant at a moment when it needed to sound exultant. But what happened here was the most extraordinary miscarriage of justice, perpetrated by a supposedly neutral, independent regulatory body which is clearly riddled with bias and is unfit for purpose.

Stand-up comics (aka The Wankocracy)

In the old days, on the Eighties alternative comedy circuit, all someone like Ben Elton would have to do was mention the words “Margaret Thatcher” – or even just “Thatch!” – for their audience to dissolve in smug, consensual, righteously scornful laughter.

Now this role as the butt of every second-rate lefty comic’s crap jokes has been taken over by UKIP. “I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally it means they have not a single political argument left,” Baroness Thatcher once said. As her most plausible current heir, Nigel Farage should find this heartening.

The European Parliament

Last week in Strasbourg, the European parliament’s arch-federalist political establishment rigged the rules and gamed the system in a dirty tricks measure which could almost have destroyed UKIP. Christopher Booker tells the story here:

Ever since Ukip last May won 24 seats, the Parliament’s Euro-elite – led by its German president Martin Schulz, the arch-federalist once famously compared by Silvio Berlusconi to a Nazi concentration camp commandant – has been longing to cut Mr Farage down to size. Last week Mr Schulz thought his moment had come. When an obscure Latvian MEP was persuaded to defect from Farage’s group, it meant that it no longer included representatives of seven countries, the minimum qualification to be recognised as an official parliamentary group.

Mr Schulz triumphantly announced that the group was thus disbanded, which would have been for Mr Farage and his colleagues an utter disaster.

Under new rules introduced by Mr Schulz, not only would they instantly have to vacate their plush offices, losing the services of some 40 administrative staff and £13 million in cash and kind, Mr Farage would also have to retire to the back benches, no longer able to make those speeches at the front of the Parliament that have earned him millions of hits on YouTube, such as that in which he told Herman Van Rompuy that he had “the charisma of a damp rag”.

Scarcely had Mr Schulz exulted at his triumph over the hated Eurosceptics, however, than the group recruited a Polish MEP to make up the numbers again. Despite attempts to discredit this man as a “Holocaust denier”, because his party leader back in Poland once questioned whether Hitler knew about Auschwitz (Farage’s new colleague merely described Hitler as “an evil man”), Mr Schulz soon found himself having to call Farage back to the rostrum as if nothing had happened.

What’s almost as interesting as Schulz’s plot – and how close it came to succeeding – has been the way the story has been reported across the media. Had these dirty tricks been applied to any other mainstream party, the stink would have been enormous.

Instead, even in supposedly conservative newspapers, reports focused not on the monstrousness of Schulz’s wicked, blatantly anti-democratic scheming but on the essentially trivial views of some Polish nobody from a party with whom it was perfectly clear Farage had got into bed out of pure pragmatism rather than deep ideological kinship.

Read the rest at Breitbart London

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Why Climate Science Is Far Too Important to Be Left to Pretty Boy Celebrity Physicists like Professor Brian Cox

Professor Brian Cox is almost certainly the prettiest physicist ever to have appeared on television. A crowded field, I know. But even I would, I suspect, happily married man though I am (and happily married man though he is too), given the right circumstances: those wonderful pouty lips; that winning perma-smile as he delivers his pearls of astronomical wisdom on his charming documentaries; the rock star cool – complete with Charlatans-style, retro haircut – a legacy of his days as keyboard player with Nineties pop band D:Ream.

So yes, I perfectly well understand why the BBC has elevated him to the position of go-to scientist on all matters of import, with TV series like The Wonders of the Solar System, and why he is constantly being invited to deliver TED talks and high profile speeches like the 2010 Huw Wheldon Memorial Lecture and the Douglas Adams Memorial Lecture.

The only bit that troubles me – and it is something of a problem, I think you’ll agree, in a leading “science communicator” – is his somewhat uncertain grasp of the scientific method….

To find out what the problem is read on at Breitbart London

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