A Day in the Sun

By Rory Cranstoun

Image adapted, BBC Weather

I imagine most lifelong inhabitants of the British Isles are, like me, fans of warm weather. Each year I pine for that rarest of things: just one day in the sun, one day of respite from Blighty’s drab skies. Maybe I am an incognizant sufferer of the big SAD (seasonal affective disorder). Maybe I just like to bask in a pub garden like a cider-drinking reptile. But if there is anything to supplant my hatred for this island’s predictably unpredictable weather patterns, it is the fellow travellers who now treat the heat as the thing of nightmares. 

For readers across the pond or wherever you may be, Britain in recent weeks was subject to some particularly warm weather. 40.3 °C (104.5 °F) in one East Midland town, in fact. For a population whose favourite vacation spot is Spain, where July temperatures regularly reach into the forties, this was simply untenable. Vast swathes of Britain burned. Melted bodies painted the streets. Sunburned Scousers abandoned their fights. Managerial London types fled their glass towers to the one place they are actually liked: Brighton. For the 208 boat people landing on England’s shores that day from the wide wide sea, so lonely ‘twas that God himself scarce seemed there to be!

That is the scenario desired by every keen leftist-environmentalist anyway. Wikipedia presents as much—an extensive article complete with several equally extensive sub-sections now documents those five days of apparent hell. No such dedicated page is found for the last significant heatwave, 2019, when a record-breaking temperature of 38.7 °C (101.7 °F) was recorded by Cambridge University. Nor for 2003, when Faversham, Kent, reached 38.5 °C (101.3 °F). But remember, July 15 to July 19, 2022, was just that bad.

Of course in reality it wasn’t. In Swindon, the ever-beautiful home of lotuseaters.com, temperatures reached an ultimate high of 29 °C (84.2 °F). Hot? Yes. Unbearable? No. Granted, there was some significant damage caused by fires in a few parts of the country. But were these the result of the sun finally piercing our CO2-burdened atmosphere and firing a solar flare directly at the UK? Probably not. Human error or purposeful arson? Most likely. 

Still our green-fingered government and its merry band of media men were keen to remind us that this was indeed the hottest day on record; that is, the hottest day since ‘official records began’ in 1910. Too the Whitehall/BBC apparatchiks were ever so ardent in their efforts to tell us ‌we should all definitely be panicking. Our weather maps, usually styled with neutral green, were instead embellished by several shades of threatening red. The BBC homepage was chockablock with stories from all over the world subtly suggesting the coming climate catastrophe. Remember folks, we’re entering an unprecedented period in world history and “virtually impossible” temperatures will be exponentially broken for years to come!

The reader however will forgive that I do not wish to proceed in this article with one shred of scientific argumentation. For the same reason that we are repeatedly told that snowfall is not a refutation of global warming, I do not care to extend any courtesy to tackling the institutionally backed ‘science’ behind the words of the cabal. Nor do I need to. Whether via the Covid pandemic response or any other number of instances, we all know that the government, the media, and the elites like to tell porky-pies. We all, unless you have been living under a rock, can recognise propaganda, or ‘misinformation’ as some like to call it. We should all be able to instinctually recognise some modicum of logical inconsistency in claims, for example, that the UK’s record-breaking 1976 heatwave was “nothing like the heatwave we’re enduring right now.” Emphasis on enduring: what exactly are we enduring? Some mildly uncomfortable heat? Some sporadic fires? Did they not tackle fires and ‘endure’ some mildly uncomfortable heat in 1976? What about the heatwave of 1911? Did they not encounter such issues? 

John Edgar Hoover, the first director of the US Federal Bureau of Investigation, defined in his 1958 masterwork Masters of Deceit five types of “fellow traveller,” sympathisers to the Marxist sensibilities underpinning the communist subversion of the United States. The fifth type, the ‘dupe’ or ‘innocent victim’ Hoover defined as an “individual who unknowingly is under communist thought control and does the work of the Party.” 

I will not stretch to label all those currently aligned with leftist-globalist environmentalism as mere puppets under the control of ‘the Party’ (or the WEF for that matter). But ‘the dupe’ is no doubt the apt term for those I wish to dedicate this article to. They are those who, like me, are conscious members of the Ignorancia, yet continue to posture themselves upon the ‘Party’ line. Yes, these are the ‘virtue-signallers’; the liberals; the useful idiots whose drone-like asininity empowered the sinister goals of Black Lives Matter in 2020, or the West’s self-destructive proxy war against Putin today. Their banal mid-wittery only predisposes us further to the whims and fantasies of—if we are to subscribe to their framework—the real climate antagonists. These are the jet-setters; the hedonist anti-natalists; the global-techno Dweebariat and their paederast boomer overlords.

We should expect nothing less. But for even one Briton, eternal subjects of the wind and cold, to jump on the alarmist bandwagon and parrot about the horror of five warm days among a thousand overcast, rainy, and miserable skies, and enjoy them all the while: that is quite plainly a step too far. Silence, you fools!