Environmental extremists plan an all-out climate change crusade over Christmas

Christmas should be a wonderful time of family, friends and fun, but our local environmental extremists are instead planning an all-out climate change crusade, writes Tim Blair.

In any form of combat, from the most trivial Twitter dispute to global thermonuclear war, the greatest advantage anyone may hold is awareness in advance of an opponent’s tactics.

This is why Paul Revere’s celebrated 1775 warning to rebel colonial troops of a coming British sea attack was crucial to the earliest battles of the American Revolution.

This is why cracking the Enigma Code enabled Allied forces to monitor German troop movements and hasten the Third Reich’s defeat.

This is why Twitter user Dogspin77, tipped off that bitter rival Pulso_Mancini planned to call him an illiterate dole-bludging hamster, was able to get in first with a devastating and ultimately decisive jab about Mancini’s mother’s moustache.

And this is why I am about to save Australian families from a terrifying cultural warfare strategy scheduled for Christmas Day — a strategy that would otherwise have left thousands of innocent civilians reeling from boredom and exhaustion.

The whole wicked plan was revealed last week in The Guardian, so it went entirely unnoticed by anybody normal. Drafted by Greenpeace Australia senior media campaigner Simon Black, the terrible plan outlines “five ways to talk to your family and friends about the climate crisis this Christmas”.

Climate change crusaders are out to ruin Christmas. Artwork: Terry Pontikos

Alerted to this sinister operation, we may now devise our wily resistance schemes.

First up, Black calls on climate alarmist troops to smother any Christmas fun by telling “compelling stories steeped in emotion and backed with facts”. According to the Greenpeace operative, “that’s the way to talk about global warming”.

Counter-attack: before this ­carbon dioxide obsessive arrives, advise your young children of a delightful new Christmas ­tradition.

Any time someone mentions “global warming”, they are to run around the room screaming as loudly as they can. The screaming only stops when you give them cake.

If anyone mentions “climate change”, they are to throw themselves on the floor and roll about laughing.

Again, cake is their reward.

Next, Black suggests a table-wide bore-and-destroy mission aimed at your entire family. “Tell them about the bleaching of the Great Barrier Reef,” he urges. “Tell them about the low-lying island nations like Kiribati.”

“If you need something festive,” our life of the party continues, “perhaps mention that summer heatwaves have destroyed one-third of the Christmas tree crops in the UK.”

Really gets into the spirit of the season, doesn’t he?

And his killer move: “If you do have to quote facts and figures, use graphs to bring them to life.”

Christmas just isn’t Christmas without a graph or two.

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Counter-attack: As everybody knows, the correct response to anyone handing you a graph on Christmas Day is to take it outside, set fire to it and use it to light a cigar. You will have placed a glass of Scotch within range for just such an eventuality.

“Make your conversations about the tangible present with solutions. This might mean talking about smaller things first so it doesn’t sound so big and difficult to deal with,” Black informs his zombie forces.

“Keep things real, immediate and tangible.”

Counter-attack: Answer each point with points of your own that have nothing to do with climate. Maybe you want to chat about why the McRib isn’t available all the time or how incredibly gobby that Indian wicketkeeper is.

The content isn’t important, because literally anything you say will be far more interesting than whatever the hell Dorky McDoomface is going on about.

Watch and enjoy as our earth warrior’s frustration builds towards an entertaining crescendo.

Successfully deployed, this conversational ruse might even result in a furious flouncing walkout.

Black’s fourth gambit involves framing. “A frame is a theory that suggests that how something is presented to an audience can influence how people process that information,” he explains, thrillingly.

“This is about all of our futures — our lives, our quality of life, and that of our children,” the Greenpeace drone continues. “Keep it in that frame and you’re a lot closer to changing minds.”

By now you’ll definitely have changed your mind about inviting this joker in the first place.

Counter-attack: wander over to the television. Maybe there’s something good on the History Channel. Netflix might offer a few options. Or maybe there’s a graph or two lying around for another cigar.

Finally, Black proposes a withering act of patronising superiority through “non-violent communication”.

“If someone tells you they are sick of the ‘climate change cult’ and ‘lying scientists’, ask them what they are feeling rather than arguing about something they are already upset about,” Black suggests.

“Do they feel confused, angry, overwhelmed, incredulous?”

I don’t know about you, but being psychoanalysed by some passive-aggressive enviro-beardo wouldn’t exactly rate highly on my all-time list of memorable Christmas moments.

Still, if he wants to play that game, by all means join in. Announce that you will reveal your innermost and deepest feelings through an interpretative dance of your own composition.

Twirl manically or skip across the floor, as the mood takes you. Completely disrobe, if you think it will add an intriguing touch of the risqué.

Dial up some drag racing on your mobile phone to use as a soundtrack.

Ask your inquisitor how he feels about this. And then get on with having a proper Christmas.