I think George Monbiot is losing it. In a troubling sign of his growing moderation, he’s far too soft on this season’s in colour, posh green. They’re fucking everywhere: ruddy-faced, square-jawed inbreds going down on each other while they pat themselves on the back over how one can be oh-so-fashionable while doing one’s bit.
The leaders of this repellent cadre, who combine pathological self-regard with a total absence of self-awareness, are billionaire Tory candidate ‘Zac’ Goldsmith and his minor aristocrat missus Scheherezade. ‘Zac’, or Frank as his birth certificate would have it, has well brought-up ladies up and down the country growing wet with desire, and positively bursting with enthusiasm for the oxymoronic idea of green consumerism. I used to know one such. Not a political bone in her body, she was nearly as dismissive (as in ignorant) of the political dimension to global warming as she was of the untermenschen who still weren’t getting their fruit and veg delivered in an Abel & Cole box every week. Last I heard she was all giddy at being one of 700 delegates to some posh green conference or other. In fucking Mexico.
The contradictions don’t end there. Frank Goldsmith inherited his fortune from his dad’s mining and deforestation businesses; he, Scherry and the three kids (Uma, Thyra and James) divide their time between their 300 acres in Devon (obv!) and London – presumably using the Megabus to travel between their two homes; and meanwhile Scheherezade’s new book reassures her similarly-deluded readers:
“The good news is that, contrary to what we have often been led to believe, there are many solutions and they don’t involve us living deprived and boring lives where our greatest pleasures are forbidden.
The joys of eating seasonally, growing your own food, keeping bees, making compost or keeping chickens are real. Being more conscientious about our environment isn’t about giving up things; on the contrary, it is about rediscovering the simple pleasures of life. I’m certain that knowing you are part of the solution and not the problem is good for the soul.”
12 Comments
Good man, ‘Brisso’, I’ll always hold your coat if you intend to lay into the ‘Greens’ but can I just say, gently, that you are showing just a teensy-weensy bit of jealousy at the sexual successes, or perhaps one could call it, excesses, of the Green aristos. If only you believed in God, ‘Brisso’, you could blame Him for your lack of sexual allure. On the other hand, if He made you in his own image … oh dear!
Having seen the kind who find Frank Goldsmith’s strange visage attractive, I can safely say that’s an invitation I’d always decline. But thanks for missing the point as usual David.
hahahahahahaha!
‘keeping bees’
hahahahahahaha!
what a fucking fruitcake!
It’s all very well being snide but some of us are trying our best. This year we’ve csncelled what promised to be a delightful family jaunt around Umbria and instead are only taking the one holiday abroad. Tom insists we should offset the carbon cost of flying to Peru and of course we feel simply ghastly with guilt but the lure of Machu Picchu is too much. Anyway, must dash! Tasmin is late for her Dynamic Dance class: Her Africa – the Rough Guide to African Music for Children CD is never off the Bang & Olufsen!
Did my last little witticism go astray, ‘Brisso’, or did you administer the unkindest cut of all?
You may remember that I was warning you gently that your incipient jealousy was showing with regard to the sexual success of these handsome, up-market, eco types. It is unfortunate that your own sexual allure is veering towards the risible but as you get older and balder and more flaccid it is necessary to come to terms with God’s cruel joke in which the imagination waxes at warp factor 10 but the performance wanes at 5 mph.
Cheer up, ‘Brisso’, there always those helpful little spams offering you Viagra for the price of an aspirin (mostly because they are aspirin)!
Oh! Apparently it did not go astray. Apologies.
what the fuck is he on about?
Why is Duff so obsessed with your cock, John?
I can only suspect, given my use of clear straightforward English, that ‘Pisces’ is pisced!
that is so clever!
Thank you, I thought so, too!
May I just say that the part where you said “who combine pathological self-regard with a total absence of self-awareness” is a damn fine turn of phrase.