Just last week British movie director Richard Curtis thought it would be jolly to simulate the brutal killing of children who did not fret sufficiently over global warming. In his short “film”, when the teacher of a class found a kid who was not as panicked as she was, she would explode that kid in situ, the resulting debris spraying on the remainder of the class. That’ll teach ’em!
Teach them what? Why, that the only “reasonable” response to global warming is complete, abject fear, coupled with a surrender of freedom to do whatever it is our bettors—Curtis classes himself one—say we should do. Death of a few is nothing to ensure that those graciously left alive think the proper thoughts. The road to Utopia must necessarily be paved with corpses.
This mode of thought is, of course, that which guided the great socialist revolutions of the last century, where tens and tens and tens of millions of people were murdered unsympathetically in the name of the People. That’s the People, and not people. Ordinary people, being replaceable, may be slaughtered indiscriminately, but the People are sovereign. Evidently, the substance which makes up the People is not people.
The bloodlust that drives the far Left is ever present, as Curtis’s creation proves. And as does this new ad (to the right), from a group which calls itself “ACT responsible.” As you will see, the hilarity of that name was surely unintentional.
It shows a little girl in a blue dress, hands bound behind her, standing on an ice cube, which, being exposed to the air, is slowly melting as ice cubes are wont to do. Around the girl’s neck is a noose, which is already taut, because the girl’s icy perch is not sufficiently tall.
What happens once the ice melts? Another stiff paving stone! At least this little girl will have died for the People.
Of course, the ad is really asking, “What could be done to save this poor little girl who we are willing to kill to prove our point?” The answer is easy: if the girl’s life must be threatened, put the ice cube in a freezer where it belongs.
A joke, yes; and not a good one. But I do have a non-facetious solution to offer Richard Curtis. If he is so keen to reduce his “carbon footprint”, he can stop making movies. Just think: his movies are awful (Love Actually, Four Weddings and a Funeral); they are not needed for survival; they are not sustainable; they cause actual harm. If all the actors and technicians who traipse about spewing CO2 in their efforts to make these superfluous movies would instead sit quietly in their homes, we would all be saved.
I thus call on Hollywood, and the British equivalent, to cease producing new movies until this crisis passes.
No caviling! This is for the People. Your sacrifices will be duly noted by future historians.
And as long as we’re at it, another industry that could use a stand down is “art.” The hanging of the little girl was not the only “artistic” ad created to battle global warming. It was part of an exhibition.
Art used to be “that which is beautiful or truthful, and lasting.” But that (coincidentally?) changed about a century ago, when art became “that which is controversial.” This came to mean, “whatever will frighten or disgust your neighbor’s mother.” Thus, “art” has been transformed into one long juvenile fart joke, with awards and grants given to the stupidest.
Don’t agree? Then watch this ad, entitled “Cow” created for the group Live Earth. It features an extreme close up of a cow’s unclean backside, so close that we see the gas escaping from within. Not once, but many times.
I admit that were I seventeen, I would think this hilarious. But after I became a man and put away childish things, I now find that the ad only serves to remind me that I am glad I was not overly influenced by James Heriot’s books to the extent of becoming a veterinarian.
No idiocy is too extreme for today’s “artists” (and movie directors). To rid ourselves of these blots of nature, we should not do as the Left would and begin lopping off heads. The solution is far easier: just ignore them. Do not pay for their movies, do not watch their shows. Turn off the television when their faces show. Do not buy the magazine where their images appear.
Without incessant praise, the creatures will wither and die faster than the laughter of the audience watching one of Curtis’s films.