What I truly despise about the green mentality.
It’s about fear, paralysing self-doubt and above all, inward-looking. It has a veneer of caring but it is chronically selfish and insulated from ordinary people. Consequently, it can’t really relate to sweaty complicated variables like human beings. It simplifies them, abstracts them as objects, little unreal figures, digitised peasants populating the unspoilt pastoral landscape of their worldview. It knows what’s good for us little stick figures running around in meaningless circles.
Once people become objects, you no longer have to think of them as people. That’s why Greens can happily advocate genocidal policies for other people without feeling the pain and therefore kill our weakest and most vulnerable, because the victims are not real. There is only one victim and that’s the environment, and we’re always portrayed as the criminals doing the killing. That is why I fight it.
It’s a bunch of well-heeled inner city dipshits who’ve read a lot of what some other well-heeled inner city dipshit has written about the countryside, but nary a one of them has ever once slept out under the open sky watching the stars, dreamed with open eyes about them and yet kept a bloody good stick handy just in case another denizen of nature fancied a midnight snack. They know nothing of nature yet insist on putting in place policies to “manage” it, which consequently not only destroy it but place strict limits on how people can enjoy it.
They are actually destroying and ruining my beloved wilderness, because they’ve no real understanding of it or how it works. They want it to have no sharp edges, no teeth, no cruelty and by trying to regulate its ass off to get rid of that stuff, they’re ripping the very heart out of its breast. I will not stand for that. That is why I fight it.
It’s based on, and builds upon that assumption that people are all innately evil beings and if we would only listen to them and their absurd teachings, we could somehow become cleansed of some type of original sin. They want us to grovel and worship and beg forgiveness for transgressions against laws they’ve freshly minted themselves. Love me, adore me and kiss my pinkie ring you serf, and be grateful for our largesse. No. There can be no truce with kings.
I’ve watched my children grow to adulthood and never discerned any innate evil in them, rather the reverse if anything. The hardest thing you’ll ever do as a parent is occasionally harden them up for the sorrows which you know will come their way. I’ve seen the face of true evil in the world and fought against it and never given it any quarter. Like the song says, I cut it if stood and shot it down if it ran. Pushing the idea it is our essential nature is a perverse and cynical representation of who we are. I will not trade down about who we are. That is why I fight it.
It’s about control, but control by small people who have no big ambitions, but it goes further than that. It’s that old Marxist-Leninist idea that people can somehow be re-conditioned, reshaped by those who know best for them to conform to some silly ideal which will therefore build their idea of the perfect world. I refuse. I will not be re-treaded, reconditioned, refurbished, reconstructed or re anything else. You want to do that sort of stuff to yourself – fine. Just don’t insist I have to join in, but of course you do. That is why I fight it.
It’s about stripping a working man out of a living by killing the industry he worked in because you didn’t approve of it and feeling some sense of smug accomplishment at having done so. Hey, I’ve saved the planet but let’s not look too close at where all those men laid off are going to find a new job. Of course, he doesn’t have a wife, doesn’t have kids because such abstract figures in the landscape who work for evil companies are actually, well, actually, abstractions. Not real, know what I mean? Yeah I do, and those people are all too real for me. That is why I fight it.
It’s about slipping stuff into law by the regulatory back door, because you know it would never be approved by any elected representative. Thou shall do this, thou shall not do that, and we’ll know if you sin because we’ll create an army of nob-heads, give them an ounce of power which they’ll massively overreach to invade your life to bloody-well ensure you’re being a good boy. That is why I fight it.
It’s about scaling back ambitions, about turning inward. Sorry, not me, I have so much bigger ambitions in my silly heart. At its most extreme, I want to get out there into the universe and actually see all those wonderful sights I’ve only ever imagined. I want that trip, I want to be the man who will be the first one to set foot on a new world, and I mean by that a new planet. I still desire that adventure no matter how hard it will be on me. Bring it on brother, I’ll take the heat. It’ll happen to someone but of course I won’t be me because I’ll be dust by then. Fair enough, those are the breaks, but I like to close my eyes and imagine that moment. Oh to have had that adventure but I should be content. I’ve been fortunate.
The things I’ve seen, the stuff I’ve experienced, the world I’ve lived in, would have astounded and yet delighted my father and grandfather. For them, it would have been some sort of magic. Across the huge gap of years, I can’t imagine describing the world-wide web to them. Where to begin? Computers? Pointing devices. Mobile phones you can surf the net and email (what’s email?), a phone you can slip in you pocket? You mean everyone has a phone? What’s a phone? I don’t think I’d even try, I’d just show them how to find information and click their way through it.
They were both practical men who had the ferociously inquiring minds of self-educated people and would have loved it for its simplicity. No more begging for books or walking miles to the nearest town which had a library. They would have looked at the let’s go backward, progress is evil philosophy of the Greens and said Pointy, kick their arse good and hard young boyo – and if you don’t, we will. That is why I fight it.
It’s that lack of ambition, that rejection of reaching out for something forward-looking rather than going backward and grubbing back into the soil to eke out some virtuous but hand to mouth existence that we voted with our feet to get the fuck out of a century or so ago. You want to go back to that, fine. Just don’t insist we have to accompany you back into a pastoral fantasy that exists nowhere but in your imagination, but of course you do. That is why I fight it.
It’s so bloody conformist and boring. Nothing ever happens, there’s no deviation from the one true Church and its tawdry but selective definition of sin. Everyone thinks the same, smells the same, Anita bloody Roddick Body Shop same. If you bothered to hack their webcams, I’m sure you’d find them getting all hot and bothered staring at the same courgette and passion fruit X-rated sites, and even the veggies are tired by this stage. Imagine five-day old lettuce and a drooping marrow of similar vintage, but perhaps that’s not an image I should have planted in your head. Yet another reason.
It needs a good old-fashioned pervy spanner thrown into the works but there’s no possibility of that. Get your mind right and think of climate scepticism as sexual liberation for poor frustrated Greenies. A good old-fashioned bit of rumpty pumpty could cure so many of their hang-ups, but looking at the state of their wimmen, I’m not volunteering for that particular duty.
To be egalitarian, the greenie men are a lot worser. Dorks like that are way beyond the call of duty for any Princess Xena of a skeptic persuasion out there. Now’s the time for all you younger skeptic studs to man up to the challenge, but in all fairness I do have to warn you they’re all wearing ballistic bras made out of coconuts and wearing hand-woven but ethically sourced Teflon knickers with padlocks on them. However, should you succeed, it will give you certain bragging rights and you’ll never again have to prove your courage.
Anyway, sorta, that is why I fight it.
It’s about a typical liberal’s intolerance of liberty. It doesn’t have any time or patience with rude boyz like me. At a lower certain level, I do throw in a bit of cursing. I’ve always thought the occasional arse or fuck word between friends is acceptable just as long as it’s appropriate for the sentence or sentiment. I appear to be being plagued by alliteration of late but please bear with me.
Anyway, out of the verbal undergrowth of expressing yourself and at a slightly more elevated level, I do tend to speak my own mind. They of course take great offense at that, not only because they think they should be the ones doing exactly that thing for me but also I’m expressing viewpoints they consider politically incorrect. Sorry, I’m a complete fucking bastard like that, but of course I’m not sorry. That is why I fight it.
It’s so bloody po-faced and serious. A whole house-full of people screaming and jumping up and down at some guy risking life and limb carrying a rugby ball as he hits a human wall determined to stop him, is to be humoured, which is a nice way of saying you’re indulging the Neanderthals. Those Neanderthals have just put in the usual week’s hard yards to keep things ticking over for those they love. They’d walk into traffic for them and occasionally have to, and it’s not noticed by anyone but their woman. You’re no longer the centre of the universe, they are.
It’s lecturing some Mum, who has just the one evening a week of her “me” time, around at her mates with a bottle of wine while her man looks after the kids, about how she should be more politically aware. You look at them and think they’re a little shite or shitess who knows so little about your life and yet thinks they are entitled to run it for you. That is why I fight it.
It’s about telling a dirt-poor man and a woman who’re heading into the Amazon jungle determined to clear a patch of land with machetes and tools one step up from stone axes they’re wrong. They’re going there because the land is free and theirs for the grabbing and they’re determined their kids will have a better shot at life than being brought up in a favela like they were. They have no voice against rich foreigners in distant lands wanting to thwart their ambitions by cynically branding them as loggers. That is why I fight it.
I could go on, but I won’t. The reality is Gaia is way too small a god for a restless tribe like us.