Longrider

Despite the AGW scaremongering consensus falling apart quicker than a sand castle at high tide, the watermelons continue to preach their religion with unabated piety. First up, we get the Bishops. Although, I suppose we should expect religion from them…

The bishops of Liverpool and London have called on us to give up our iPods for Lent, which starts today, Ash Wednesday. That’s a sacrifice of which most of us, of a certain age, can heartily approve, since we don’t actually own iPods. But we might wonder what the point of it all is.

Well, they got that right, I suppose. I don’t own an iPod and have no desire to. But, if I did, I wouldn’t give it up for Lent, being a heathen un-believer and all that.

Today’s bishops are always encouraging us to ask “Why?” So let’s oblige them. Part of the answer, when it comes to this annual fast-fest, seems to be that the climate-change lobby has hi-jacked Lent and that the Church has wholeheartedly gone along for the ride. It turns out that that the iPod ban is only a one-day contribution – Day 20 – to the Christian relief agency Tearfund’s annual Carbon Fast. This also enjoins us to “choose an energy supplier that sources all its energy from renewable sources” (Day 3), ask “what your MP is doing to tackle climate change” (Day 17) and to refrain from flushing the loo (Day 43), which might fill the house with the air of the medieval mystic, but is actually aimed at saving water.

Oh, good grief! The pious nonsense is palpably painful. Can I bear to read on? A carbon fast, indeed. Haven’t these people noticed that the wheels are coming off? Even if I did believe in a big bearded man in the sky, I’d still find this preachiness too much to take. So, no, I won’t be indulging in a carbon fast. Indeed, I might find some red meat to grill over the charcoal on the barbecue – that’s if the spring gets going in time.

Item number two tells us just how corrosive the green religion has become to personal relationships.

Martin Davis, a retired solicitor from Cheltenham, wants to get rid of the family dog. “There are enough productive animals in the world without keeping unproductive ones,” he tells his wife Caroline. “It uses up time and energy and leaves a trail of dog-food tins and plastic bags.” She disagrees vehemently, claiming that it is natural to have animals in the home; they provide comfort and a link with the outdoors.

So that’s what it comes down to? Everything must be justified as a utility. What does this man want to do with the family dog, given that it is so useless? Shoot it? And what about all the other animals on the planet that don’t actually have a use? Kill them?

If these quibbles sound familiar, it’s probably because you have your own stock of pea-green domestic disputes bubbling away. As climate change and the extent to which we must all play our part in reversing it continues to dominate news agendas, families are becoming increasingly rattled by aspects of green behaviour.

No they fucking don’t sound familiar. It takes a particularly pious, preening, self-righteous, weapons grade bell end^TM to do that.

Mrs L and I do not have any such quibbles, probably because we view this eco-wankery with equal derision.

To add to the green tensions, the Davises’ 27-year-old daughter Agnes has strong ideas on what constitutes a sustainable diet. “I’m horrified by how much meat comes into my parents’ house,” she says. “They eat it with every meal. It’s not just the environmental impact — the energy and methane involved in meat production — but it’s unhealthy.

God, what a self-righteous little cow! How much meat goes into her parents’ house is none of her damned business. I suggest Mrs Davies divorces Mr Davies and takes the dog with her – that, at least, has no pretentions and won’t make her life a misery by preaching at her. Dogs just pant, lick and want to go walkies – simple souls that are easily pleased. Given the choice between a dog or an eco-warrior, I’ll take the dog; they’re more environmentally friendly – I don’t have to listen to them droning on about carbon bloody footprints or cow farts or whatever. They’ll just fetch the slippers and slobber over them.

“Whenever we get together we end up having this kind of row, whether it’s about imported vegetables or whether it’s greener to live in a town or in the city.”

Oh, get a bloody life, people.

It gets worse, mind…

Donnachadh McCarthy, an “eco-auditor” who visits people’s homes to give advice on how the occupants can reduce their impact on the planet, has also noted a rise in eco-disputes.

WTF!?! An eco-auditor? Jebus! And I suspect that following that visit, the tensions are increased rather than decreased. I’ll not be having one of those coming round, thanks very much.

There is a sickness in our society. I suspect people don’t have enough real things to worry about… Well, I can’t think of any other explanation for this rampant nonsense.