Blair should be put on trial, not for his invasion of Iraq, but for defending long-haul holiday flights. Not for being 'Bliar', but even worse, for being 'Bl-air' - a man who shamelessly defends the mass-murdering aviation industry.
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Flying has always made me sick. The last time I was on a plane – when I was eight and my parents took us to Spain – I vomited on my mother's hair. Back then they called it 'cabin sickness'; now I know it was an instinctive reaction by my moral system against the Great Injustice of Flight. I literally blew chunks of indignation. Even today, I'm one of few green activists who turn down invitations to debates overseas; I receive hardly any, of course, because they all know of my unshakeable principles.
George Monbiot – who would be my hero if I believed in such an elitist concept – says flying across the Atlantic is as unacceptable as child abuse. I'd go a step further and argue that flying anywhere is the equivalent of Satanic Ritual Abuse. If the impact of carbon emissions can be measured in the currency of kiddie-fiddling, then a Briton who takes a return flight to America (1.42 tonnes of CO2) is a predatory paedophile, and those who fly to destinations such as France (0.2 tonnes of CO2) are like those schoolteachers who have misguided flings with 14-year-olds.
Airline pilots and flight attendants are the Ian Bradies and Myra Hindleys of the aviation industry. Don't tell me 'They're just doing their jobs'! That is what some people said about the SS guards who pumped Jews with Zkylon B – an evil gas which, as we know, had a devastating impact on the beautiful countryside around Auschwitz. (Yet still we don't include the Nazis' Holocaust of Trees in the annual Holocaust Memorial Day, which shows yet again just how speciesist our society remains.)
It seems obvious to me, and this is my first step to stopping flying, that we need a Flight Offenders Register, where we record the details of every person who flies anywhere for any reason. I have already kickstarted such a campaign. Recently I've been organising protests outside the home of a local paediatrician who flies to his holiday home in Tuscany TWICE A YEAR! As my placard, designed by Sheba and the kids, says: 'Hey paediatrician! What is the point in saving children's lives for a living when you kill the equivalent of 7.2 children in the Third World during your hols?' (I'm pleased to say that these anti-flying protests have attracted the exuberant interest of people from nearby poor council estates, who shout colourful slogans such as 'We don't want evil paediatricians here!' and 'Burn him out, burn him out!' I understand their fury.)
Satire is sooooo worth it when it works.
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