LITTLEJOHN: Saving the planet while the English swim for their supper

9th July 2007
Daily Mail


When it comes to 'climate change' - what we used to call the weather - I'm with Professor Higgins. In Herefordshire, Hertfordshire and Hampshire hurricanes hardly ever happen.

The operative word here is 'hardly'. One of these fine days, Hoddesdon or Hemel Hempstead might well be trashed by a hummer of a hurricane. You never can tell. We've had freak storms, floods and heatwaves since time immemorial.

People still talk about the frozen winter of 1947. I seem to remember 1963 being a bit parky, too.

Back in the summer of 1976, parts of the country looked like the Kalahari.

We were assured then that this was the start of an inexorable shift in the weather, which would see vineyards flourishing in Aberdeen and giant wildebeest sweeping majestically across the Peak District.

Newspapers hired Red Indian medicine men to perform rain dances in Trafalgar Square. Ministers urged us to start sharing baths and stop flushing the toilet to save water.

The then Labour government even appointed Denis Howell, a former football referee turned MP, as Minister of Drought. About 24 hours after he got the job, the heavens opened and it didn't stop raining for six months.

I can't recall Showaddywaddy requisitioning Wembley Stadium for a global warming concert. Nor can I find any mention of Flanagan and Allen or the Andrews Sisters doing a Save The Planet gig as Britain shivered in the aftermath of the Second World War.

If people want to have a party, good luck to them. But spare us the sermons. Is there anyone in the Western world still unaware of 'climate change'? It's rammed down our throats 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

I wasn't surprised to see Sting topping the bill this weekend. He's got plenty of previous. Remember that picture of him sitting next to an Amazon tribesman who appeared to have a CD in his mouth?

That was supposed to make us all feel guilty about the destruction of the rainforests. It certainly helped Greenpeace knock out a few T-shirts. But it didn't stop the locals razing hundreds of thousands of acres. Maybe that's the origin of the expression, 'having a Brazilian'.

Frankly, I'm more concerned about the possible destruction of Epping Forest. While parts of the North and the Midlands are up to their necks in water, the Government is proposing to build hundreds of thousands of new homes on flood plains in the South-East.

The imbecile responsible for this plan is none other than Two Jags, member for Hull, which is one of the cities worst hit by the recent flooding. I wonder what his constituents made of the preposterous preening at Wembley and elsewhere on Saturday.

The chances of any of the money generated by Live Earth ending up on Humberside are less than zero.
Gordon Brown, last seen handing over 8 billion of our money to Africa just so he could have his picture taken with Nelson Mandela, has grudgingly allocated a paltry 14 million to flood relief here.

When the 'new' Prime Minister visited Hull at the weekend, a sheetmetal worker shouted at him: "We've paid our taxes all our lives and now we want something back.

"If you're on benefits, you get new houses and furniture, but where's the help for hard-working families?"

Precisely. If the flooding was somewhere exotic in the 'emerging world', there'd be TV appeals for the disaster fund, the Government would be sending troops and pop stars would be scrambling over each other to appear at the benefit concert. The people of England can swim for their supper.

Live Earth has to be the most fatuous fundraiser ever. Where is the money going?

Sorry if I sound like a heretic, but while I accept we shouldn't deliberately pollute and do our best to recycle our rubbish, I don't accept that 'climate change' is the biggest threat to the planet.

That would be global Islamist terrorism right now. Its stated intention is to kill us and destroy our way of life.

If rock singers and TV stars want to do something constructive, why don't they have a series of shows against jihad?

Madonna could kick it off in Iran, but the bare flesh and conical bras would have to go. Graham Norton could host the Kabul concert, though he might be lucky to get out without having a brick wall pushed on top of him.

I'm sure rappers like Puff Doggy would go down a storm with the Wahabis in Saudi Arabia, given their mutual enthusiasm for women's rights, homosexuality and drive-by executions.

Send the Spice Girls to Lahore. They'd look very fetching in designer burkas. The whole event could be beamed round the world by the BBC, being careful not to mention any connection between terrorism and Islam, perish the thought.

Of course, it ain't gonna happen. They'd rather work themselves into a lather about the ozone layer than confront the number one clear and present danger to our lives.

As Professor Higgins might have said: By George, they just don't get it.