God evidently can no longer save the Earth from warm weather unaided, as he did during much warmer periods in the past. But not to worry: help is on the way.
In his forthcoming documentary, HRH Prince William takes on the daunting task normally reserved for the deity. It’s his “duty”, he says, to leave the planet (presumably the Earth) in better health for future generations: “Someone has to put their head above the parapet and say, I care about this.”
Leaving aside the hackneyed phrasing and the woke use of a plural pronoun after a singular antecedent, one wonders how closely HRH follows the news. Not very, is my guess, if he really thinks we suffer from a dearth of Greta clones.
What we really are short of is serious discussion of the issues involved, one that doesn’t depend on the fraud of ignoring any evidence contradicting woke pieties. Instead we get hysterical girls with learning difficulties sputtering spittle and screaming ignorant bilge at the top of their voices.
The latest spur to Wills’s restless conscience was applied by his trips to Pakistan and Tanzania. In the former, he saw the adverse effects of melting mountain ice and interpreted that unfortunate development in the light of his extensive knowledge of climatology, volcanology, astrophysics, history and at least a dozen related disciplines.
The end is nigh, a disaster is looming, explained Wills. And then he segued into a rhetorical device he has never heard of – anaphora, the repetition of the same word at the beginning of each sentence:
“And yet, we still don’t seem to be picking up the pace and understanding it quick enough.
“And I think the young are really getting it.
“And the younger generation are really wanting more and more people to do stuff and want more action.”
Wills didn’t specify how young one has to be to “get it”, but he didn’t have to bother. For the only things the young of any age “get” better than their elders is drunk and laid, while the only “stuff” they do better comes in little packets bought in dark alleys.
If you wish to contest this generalisation, by all means particularise it. Try to remember yourself as you were, say, at 20. Other than the things I mentioned, what was it that you “got” then, but have since forgotten? Conversely, I bet you understand more things now than you did at a tender age. I for one blush with embarrassment recalling what an idiot I was.
If an issue is predominantly supported by the young, even those less crazy and better educated than Greta (whom Wills admires), then the safe assumption is that it’s ridiculous. The young do in fact understand things “quick enough” (someone ought to have taught Wills the difference between adjectives and adverbs), but hardly ever deep enough.
Then William and Kate were filmed hugging rhinos and feeding carrots to Tanzanian children… sorry, got that wrong. It was the other way around, of course.
That gave HRH Wills an opportunity to rail against big game hunters, especially poachers, while showing that zoology is yet another subject he has mastered: “They want this horn, which is effectively nail, and that is all it is, it’s fingernail. This is where the horn belongs, on a live rhino and that’s where it should stay.”
What if the animal dies of old age? Can we please have the horn then?
In any case, just a fingernail a rhino’s horn may be, but it’s not the same as those adorning our hands. That particular fingernail belongs to a wild animal who, given half the chance, will eviscerate anyone coming close.
If rhinos were to become extinct, I wouldn’t shed many tears. After all, some 99 per cent of the creatures who have ever inhabited “the planet” are no longer with us, and somehow we’ve managed to muddle through.
Speaking of tears, that’s what Wills had to fight back courageously when shown a collection of 43,000 poached elephant tusks impounded in Tanzania. Expressing himself with his customary elegance, HRH said: “It’s a mind-blowing number of tusks, it really is. You can’t get your head around it.”
Every sign points at the lamentable fact that our future king really can’t get his head around anything other than the latest wokish fad. Alas, he doesn’t just look like his late mother.
And he certainly isn’t like his grandmother, who, on her coronation, took the oath to uphold Christianity. One of its fundamental tenets, first enunciated in Genesis, is that everything in life was created to serve man, and only for that purpose.
That doesn’t mean that poaching elephants, or indeed any other animals, should be encouraged or indeed allowed. Hunting in general should follow rules that enforce a responsible and frugal treatment of nature.
But criminalising the production of ivory altogether is nothing but pandering to the more hare-brained aspects of our wokish modernity. Ivory has all sorts of ornamental uses and an extremely important functional one: it’s irreplaceable as the material for piano keys.
That’s how elephants fulfil the biblical commandment to serve man, and we should thank them for it. But we emphatically shouldn’t sentimentalise animals and revert to their worship, so characteristic of pagan and pantheistic cults.
Wills is essentially a jerk waiting for a knee. Modernity obligingly supplies many such knees, but the very purpose of monarchy is to act as a timeless institution, the leitmotif running through the country’s history and binding it together.
When this institution falls into Wills’s hands, I shudder to think what will happen to it. His father is no towering intellect either, and nor is he averse to a bit of nature worship, to the point of chatting up plants and engaging in foreplay with trees. But at least he can speak proper English.