By George
I would like to consider myself a handyman. If something needs fixing I’ll give it a go. And then my beloved will engage plan B and call in an expert to rectify the worsening situation. It is accepted that most of us rely on specialists to ensure a task is completed appropriately. If I want a boil lanced on my bum, I would go to a doctor not an electrician, if you get my drift. So when did Milly Adams, a local hairdresser, who was elected to council simply because her surname started with an “A”, become a climatologist?
If I wanted to know what the weather was like over the next few days I might give Daniel Corbett a ring. If I wanted to know what the weather will be in ten years time, it appears I only need to give Councilor Milly a call. That is how absurd the “climate emergency” declarations have become.
These people who crave notoriety by declaring such nonsense are at the lower end of the food chain when it comes to intellectual endeavour within the communities they serve. The vast majority of said communities wouldn’t have a clue who represents them, let alone trust them to assimilate their constituent’s collective consciousness.
So a message to all councilors: keep our streets clean, our parks flourishing, our sewers flowing, our roads open, provide water we can drink, ensure rubbish is disposed of, provide public transport that is punctual and frequent, mow our berms, speed up resource consent approvals and the many other housekeeping responsibilities you are charged with.
We pay you to deliver these services. Be virtuous at your own expense and in your own time, not ours. Now get back to work and do what we are paying you to do. And emotionally grow up. The only things frying are your collective brains.