Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Off topic and I don’t give a damn

From Climate Scepticism


Do you remember when you were young? Well if you do, you weren’t there man!

Or am I thinking of Vietnam, or the Sixties, or something? I’m getting old and confused and little is making sense to me anymore. But t’was not always the way. I do remember a time when everything seemed very clear to me. Oh to see the world again through the prism of youth, where light shined upon me only to fragment into a rainbow of insight and determination.

So how could my wizened old heart fail to melt when seeing dearest Greta dancing with joyous abandon only moments after having told the world that all right-minded people should be on the side of the Palestinians? It is so reassuring to see that taking on the role of moral guardian to the masses hasn’t sucked her totally dry of her joie de vivre or, at the very leastthe joie de danser.

Yes, dance my fair Greta. Dance at the sheer thrill of having so many of the older generation bowing to your youthful wisdom on matters as far ranging as climate science and genocide. Dance to the tune of tolerance and justice you so eloquently and wisely spoke of only moments earlier, just before you had the microphone ripped from your hands. And most of all, dance for those who no longer can. Dance for those who were raped, beheaded and set alight by the Hamas ‘freedom fighters’ descending upon the outdoor music festival near Re’im. Those who danced that day no doubt shared your innocence and hopefulness. They too will have had much to say regarding the failings of the older generations and would have been anxious to introduce a new world order based upon respect for their fellow man and the environment. But unlike you, Greta, they will have been brought up to understand from their elders just what genocide means.

Dance for them, Greta, because they can no longer dance for themselves. But before you choose again to preach peace, tolerance and justice to the Israelis, spare a thought for those who danced before you, and just pray that the next time you feel like a little jig of joy there should be no-one around with an AK47 to acquaint you with the true horror of Middle Eastern politics.