Just to keep you all up to date in Aotearoa, Land of the Long Woke Cloud in some MPs estimation, including Shane Jones. Who here I write about - NZ First MP and blow-hard. In his hands the NZ - 100% Pure advertising slogan should be subject to some arithmetic, such as NZ - 50% pure 50%

Two internet references should suffice

https://www.msn.com/en-nz/news/national/watch-hysteria-jones-says-nz-won-t-meet-dreamy-fairytale-2030-paris-agreement-goal/ar-AA1lmwFr

https://www.newshub.co.nz/home/politics/2024/05/shane-jones-slams-woke-riddled-left-amid-energy-debate-chl-e-swarbrick-fires-back.html

This man is an idiot, a dangerous one - in the face of this knowledge too

https://www.theguardian.com/environment/article/2024/may/08/world-scientists-climate-failure-survey-global-temperature

New Zealand is actually one of the world's worst climate hypocrites, and regularly wins the "Fossil of the Year" award at IPCC events etc. Do not be deceived by our claims to be green. There are serious issues and in regard to Global Warming one of the planet's worst offenders, especially in per capita growth.

I was on my electric bicycle this afternoon, pleasant cool autumn day, and got composing a little verse about Shane Jones.

In our House of Representatives , there’s one great idi-ot
That outranks in sheer stupidity all the other lot.
It’s Mr Jones, who claims the planet is not getting hot:
“No scientist” he says” has the brain that I have got –
I know it all, indeed I do, or my name is not Jock Sprott”

So Mr Jones, you are that bright? But really you are not,
As a spanner in the works, you are the dire mascot:

If I were a golfer, you’d be the big div-ot
If I were a carpenter, you’d be the crooked knot,
If I were an artery, you’d be the deadly clot
If I were a roast duck, you’d be the leaden shot.
If cannibals were eating me, you’d be the boiling pot,
If I’d an awful cold, you’d be the dripping snot,
If I were a scrivener, you’d be the black ink-blot.
If I were a net guru, you’d be the Russian bot,
And if ignorance were a drink, you’d be the drunken sot,

There’s not a thing about you that’s worth a single jot
As Jeremy Clark would say, not even diddly-squat.
Sure I do not wish you harm, at least not such a lot,
But for God’s sake to your own dear planet trot,
So that with you gone, the rest of us may plot
Other moral men and women we can for sense allot
To save our Earth with the science you so recklessly forgot.

(It was actually rather more rude, as I had myself dancing on his grave, but family persuaded me that wasn't necessary!!)