It is that time of the year when eager sooth-sayers make
prophecies for the coming solar revolution, from comforting soft assurances to
portents of doom, every one an exercise in optimism, pessimism, simple pragmatism
or mere wishful thinking. Forecasting is so much easier when you do not have to
stand by your predictions, but why do we keep on deluding ourselves?
Nobody knows what lies beyond the morning. Nobody. Yet
somehow we have to have some hope, some expectation, of what might be, just in
order to keep on going. But where is the sunshine for 2023? Sunshine, you say? The
climate change alarmists say we have had altogether too much sunshine for our
own good, yet insist that the harvesting of energy from sunlight will save the
planet. Which is it – too much, or too little?
Whatever else comes about, we can be pretty certain that
the assault on Britishness will continue. Our phlegmatic demeanour will be used
against us as we stand, unresponsive, in front of a charge sheet of atrocities
that goes back centuries and will continue well into this one.
I think it is fair to say that we are way past the end of
the beginning and even the beginning of the end; the country, perhaps the entire
western world, is on a slide into oblivion. Pop up from any East End tube
station and you will alight in a bazaar of some kind, the jolly Cockney barrow
boys displaced by the dour vendors of souks straight out of the middle ages.
Dare to travel by public transport and you take your life
in your hands, and whatever you do, do not attract the interest of the machete-wielding
youths whose fiefdom you have entered. And don’t expect fellow travellers to
take your side should you be so unlucky; they are more likely to film your beating
than assist in your salvation. Police, you suggest? Where?
Woe betides those who misgender somebody, use incorrect
pronouns or meekly suggest that biological women ought to have their own
exclusive private spaces. Forget arguments based on solid facts or the
application of healthy scepticism; your considered opinion is powerless in the face
of articles of faith. If the great ‘scientist’ Professor Greta of Thunder says
so, the world will be in flames by Friday.
Eat meat and expect to be denounced by your own
offspring. Carelessly use the commonplace words and phrases from your youth and
await the summons to the HR department. Stand your ground and pick up your
cards on the way out. Pay reparation, in obeisance if not in filthy lucre, or
face banishment forever from the world of work.
The World Economic Forum suggests that in the future you will own nothing and you will be happy. We scoffed when we heard this in their plan for the Great Reset, but how secure do you feel in the ownership of your assets now? And are you happy? It is the time of the year for looking ahead to what the future brings, but this is no New Year’s forecast. This is today. Happy New Year.
