Monday, November 1, 2021

Blowing smoke in Glasgow

Well, time for another climate conference. This is apparently the twenty-sixth kick at the cat. 

The big dogs were all in attendance. 400 private jets, if such a thing can be imagined. There wasn't enough jet parking at Glasgow airport, so after the first few dozen, the rest had to drop their passengers and then fly empty to anywhere that had surplus jet parking available.

That's gotta be a bitch on CO2 emissions. 

And then there was roughly 25,000 wannabees, mostly hoping to tell their grandchildren they were at COP26, kinda like their own grandparents told them about seeing Elvis on TV for the first time.

The same politicians who have talked up a storm in previous climate summits were back to talk some more. Big Joe Biden popped over from the Vatican, where'd he'd just dropped in on His Holiness, arriving in a convoy of seven dozen gas-guzzling climate killing petrol-burners.

That's gotta be a bitch too.

And our own PM Fluffy was given a two-minute time slot to address the cognoscenti. Looking like a serious person in a blue business suit, he solemnly announced a cap on growth in emissions, which is almost universally being reported as a cap on emissions.

Don't forget; this is the guy who thinks you're stupid enough to believe we have to export more bitumen to fight climate change.

He's so serious about fighting global whatever, he even bought us a pipeline! 

I'm starting to think that deal was a twofer. Get a couple of billionaires out of a pickle (with an eye on future board appointments) on the one hand, and then just shut-er-down, thereby gaining a few points with the Greta Thunbergs of the world.

Anyway, what does it matter? The only thing you can be certain of with these climate conferences, is nobody ever meets their commitments.

It's all theatre.


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