Tag Archives: guardian

Is climate change finally losing its punch?


henley_autumn

By Andy Duncan

I noticed something very subtle, today, while reading a recent article in the Guardian. If you can bear to read it yourself, here’s the link.

I may be imagining it, but I think there has been an almost imperceptible shift in the usual recent Gramscian and culturally Marxist language of mind control.

Let’s avoid worrying too much about the actual subject of the article, which is the British government’s proposed ban on the internal combustion engine in 2040, within the expected lifetime of certain newly-built cars.

Yes, this has almost single-handedly wrecked the retail vehicle market in this country. Yes, it is simply value signalling of the worst kind. Yes, we all know that our esteemed democratic ‘leaders’ and their string-pulling fonctionnaires need to live off our taxes.

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They still think capitalism is a zero-sum game


David Davis

I am getting too tired even to refute this sort of stuff whenever it appears, but you might like this for a little titter.

Brian Micklethwait wrote about capitalism many years ago,  saying it is not a zero-sum game. So did this guy, more recently. And these people are proving it daily by their actions.

The “they” of the title line, of course, are very very dangerous, committed and unforgiving scumbags, who have long memories, also have all the time in the world to plot and plan the death of Modern Man, and who only have to win once.

Practical swamp-draining: and…ahhhh…”they” have even noticed that they are preparing to ditch the Cyclops…or maybe not…


David Davis

You know, it’s a funny thing: it troubles me in the night: it’s about how absolutely insensitive to the moods and needs of real human beings GramscoFabiaNazis actually are. Today, you have some of them whining on in the Guardian about how Brown needs to survive “one more week of torture”, in order to pull through and drag the charred bollocks of Stalinism out of the upended, raging barbecue of mass opinion on his and his cronies’ total cock-up of this nation.

How on earth do real people (I presume?) get like that in the first place? 

I think it’s the central problem that libertarians ought to address: how do we stop socialism/Fabianism actually happening, in anyone’s brain, anywhere, ever, in the first place?

You know – swamp-draining stuff.

There are two hypotheses about how these people got to see the world through such a distorted prism.

(1) “They” really really believe what they are saying about how a liberal civilisation of free individuals ought to be chained and regulated (by them) and express sadness and incomprehension that we can’t see it their way. They really think that a “Honestiores/Humiliores” model is the right one, and that they are the first and we are the second, and that the technology required to maintain it is minimalist, and that if only we are persuaded, all will be well.

(2) It’s all a put-up-job, a mask of concern to hide their ineffably-wicked determination to destroy, to upend as above, to viciously (jack)boot the whole of Mankind – barring themselves, their tribes and their harems (of both sexes I opine, though not at the same time of course) to the Neolithic Age. (GreeNazism must feature strongly here.)

The problem of how and where and when that prism of distortion was implanted in their brains also remains. I can’t tell today what ought to be done with most of the staff of our schools and universities, but it’s got to be considered.

I can’t really tell any more which it is, of (1) or (2) above. Can anyone help?

Furthermore: we also are still left with the problem of what to do with them, and what to do with exterior nations inevitably friendly to them after we shall have cast them out. Bodwyn Wook dealt with this the other day too.

Good old chap, grand old man. (Humorous writer too, not like lefties at all.)


My boy, the Libertarian Alliance’s Youtube-video-reasearch-officer, loves his books.

Here’s what he says just now – it’s worth repeating in full:-

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Death’s homework

I’ve been diagnosed with cancer – a treatable kind, but still I’m ruminating on God and mortality

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  • PJ O’Rourke
  • The Guardian,
  • Tuesday October 7 2008
  • Article history

I looked death in the face. All right, I didn’t. I glimpsed him in a crowd. I’ve been diagnosed with cancer, of a very treatable kind. I’m told I have a 95% chance of survival. Come to think of it, as a drinking, smoking, saturated-fat hound, my chance of survival has been improved by cancer.

I still cursed God, as we all do when we get bad news and pain. Not even the most faith-impaired among us shouts: “Damn quantum mechanics!”, “damn organic chemistry!”, or “damn chaos and coincidence!”

I believe in God. God created the world. Obviously pain had to be included in God’s plan. Otherwise we’d never learn that our actions have consequences. Our cave-person ancestors, finding fire warm, would conclude that curling up to sleep in the middle of the flames would be even warmer. Cave bears would dine on roast ancestor, and we’d never get any bad news and pain because we wouldn’t be here.

But God, Sir, in Your manner of teaching us about life’s consequential nature, isn’t death a bit … um … extreme, pedagogically speaking? I know the lesson we’re studying is difficult. But dying is more homework than I was counting on. Also, it kind of messes up my vacation planning. Can we talk after class? Maybe if I did something for extra credit?

Why can’t death – if we must have it – be always glorious, as in The Iliad? Of course death continues to be so, sometimes, with heroes in Fallujah and Kandahar. But nowadays, death more often comes drooling on the toilet seat in the nursing home, or bleeding under the crushed roof of a teen-driven SUV, or breathless in a deluxe hotel suite filled with empty drug bottles and a minor public figure whose celebrity expiration date has passed.

I have, of all the inglorious things, a malignant haemorrhoid. What colour bracelet does one wear for that? And what slogan is apropos? Perhaps it can be embroidered around the ruffle on a cover for my embarrassing little doughnut buttocks pillow.

Furthermore, I am a logical, sensible, pragmatic Republican, and my diagnosis came just weeks after Teddy Kennedy’s. That he should have cancer of the brain, and I should have cancer of the ass … well, I’ll say a rosary for him and hope he has a laugh at me. After all, what would I do, ask God for a more dignified cancer? Pancreatic? Liver? Lung? No doubt death is one of those mysterious ways in which God famously works. Except, on consideration, death isn’t mysterious. Do we really want everyone to be around for ever? I’m thinking about my own family, specifically a certain stepfather I had as a kid.

Then there’s the matter of our debt to death for life as we know it. I believe in God. I also believe in evolution. If death weren’t around to “finalise” the Darwinian process, we’d all still be amoebas. We’d eat by surrounding pizzas with our belly flab and have sex by lying on railroad tracks waiting for a train to split us into significant others.

I consider evolution to be more than a scientific theory. I think it’s a call to God. God created a free universe. He could have created any kind of universe He wanted. But a universe without freedom would have been static and meaningless – the taxpayer-funded-art-in-public-places universe.

Rather, God created a universe full of cosmic whatchmajiggers and subatomic whosits free to interact. And interact they did, becoming matter and organic matter and organic matter that replicated itself and life. And that life was free, as amoral as my cancer cells.

Life forms could exercise freedom to an idiotic extent, growing uncontrolled, thoughtless and greedy to the point that they killed the source of their own fool existence. But, with the help of death, matter began to learn right from wrong – how to save itself and its ilk, how to nurture, how to love (or, anyway, how to build a Facebook page), and how to know God and His rules.

Death is so important that God visited death upon His own son, thereby helping us learn right from wrong well enough that we may escape death for ever and live eternally in God’s grace. (Although this option is not usually open to reporters.)

I’m not promising that the Pope will back me up about all of the above. But it’s the best I can do by my poor lights about the subject of mortality and free will.

Thus, the next time I glimpse death … well, I’m not going over and introducing myself. I’m not giving the grim reaper fist daps. But I’ll remind myself to try, at least, to thank God for death. And then I’ll thank God, with all my heart, for whiskey.

  • PJ O’Rourke is a correspondent for the Weekly Standard and the Atlantic

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