I'm right, you know I'm right

IT’S NOT always easy swimming against the tide. I’ve been harassed by tree-huggers, threatened by animal rights nutters, attacked by militant vegetarians and once had the entire Muslim Council of Great Britain marching down the road towards me carrying burning torches.

But it’s a cross I gladly bear, not least because sooner or later I always turn out to be right.

Take global warming, for instance. The do-gooders have been preaching at me for years, saying that we’re all doomed and will be up to our knees in melted icecap by Christmas just because I use a 4x4 to drive my empty wine bottles to the recycling skip. Now it turns out that the biggest generator of carbon monoxide on the planet isn’t a yummy mummy doing the school run in a Chelsea tractor but … trees. Yes, trees.

Whole jungles of the malicious bastards, pumping out enough guff to put a hole in the ozone layer the size of Australia every week. So all those smart-arse millionaire pop stars who came over all holier-than-thou by planting forests as a tax dodge will be smiling on the other side of their faces when their Norfolk estates are under six feet of seawater.

Then there are the so-called veggies and their weird eating habits. I’ve always been of the opinion that if you’re going to do something, you should do it properly. So that means no handbags and no leather shoes. Otherwise all they’re achieving is killing a cow and then chucking away the best bits, i.e. the meat.

And what’s “vegetarian bacon” when it’s at home? Tree bark and minced balsa wood mushed up, coloured, and then extruded into the shape of a rasher? What’s the point in that?

Then there’s soya, the staple diet of daft teenagers and poncey middle-class women who think it’s just a harmless affectation. Oh really? Do you know where soya comes from? The Amazon. And did you know that vast swathes of jungle are being cleared, at the cost of huge damage to wildlife and the environment, just to grow the stuffing for vegetarian sausages? I thought not.

IT APPEARS that I am not alone in having somewhat trenchant views on this subject. A visiting fellow in evolutionary psychology at Newcastle University has had his e-mail and internet access rescinded after upsetting the bunny-huggers by writing an article entitled “Why vegetarians should be force fed with lard”.

This follows his earlier efforts “Why banning hunting is wrong” and “A woman’s place”, which makes some very valid points about how letting women out of the kitchen is threatening to cause the collapse of Western civilisation. (I have to say, he seems like a very sound chap.)

Needless to say, the Thought Police have now swooped after complaints from the hairy armpit brigade. Still, we all know what value our current Powers-That-Be attach to freedom of speech. The poor bloke’s probably been deported by now.

NORTH OF the border we must go, to the land where the women smell of mutton and sound like Wee Jimmy Krankie. There, the Scottish Executive (the governing quango that is awash with English taxpayers’ money) is warning landlords and bar owners that they may be forced to stop serving traditional pub meals.

Apparently the Executive is considering proposals to force landlords to promote “sensible eating” as a condition of their licences by banning pies, beans and chips from their menus.

For goodness sake, have you ever been to Scotland? It’s a horrible place, full of drunks, shortbread and drizzle. The poor inhabitants (i.e. those who can’t afford the rail fare South) must have some consolation in their lives. That’s why they invented the deep-fried Mars Bar. And what’s better to soak up the pints of heavy and chasers? Pie, chips and beans or a nice rocket salad?

POOR JOHN Prescott. First everyone complains that he hasn’t got a proper job, then everyone complains because he was caught playing croquet instead of doing the proper job he hasn’t got. Work that one out.

And it’s good to know that class-hatred works both ways within the ranks of NuLabour. Am I the only one who thinks that this “story” wouldn’t have registered on the national radar if he’d spent the afternoon cleaning out his pigeon loft in Hull, rather than playing a game for toffs on the lawns of a mansion? They just can’t help themselves, can they?

And meanwhile some MP called Alan Johnson has decided that he would quite like to be the next former union leader to while away the hours reading Marxism Today from the comfort of a state-funded four-poster bed by replacing Prescott as Deputy Prime Minister.

Well excuse me. Isn’t this the man who only last month was appointed Secretary of State for Education? Is there any chance that he might set aside his rampant opportunism and spend at least half a year teaching our children to read and write before rushing off to stick his snout in another trough?

THE FORMER boxer, Prince Naseem Hamed, in prison for almost killing a man while showing off his sports car, has landed himself a cushy job training other lags in the gym.

Is this altogether wise? It’s already bad enough trying to defend your home from burglars and robbers without the State giving them free lessons in the efficacy of a good left jab.

O The views of Mr Beelzebub are purely personal and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Editor or staff of this website, of anyone who doesn't think that Alistair will turn to drink now he's knocked the gambling on the head, of anyone who hasn't already made plans for a mad dash to Germany once we get to the quarter-finals, or of anyone who hasn't already seen Big Brother Leah's horrendous porno pictures. Badly packed kebab springs to mind.