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“Please tell“
You’ve been told many, many times by other contributors, in clear, concise terms with supporting evidence, which you simply ignore and repeat ad nauseum the same crap you’ve been spouting for ever.
I’m not prepared to waste any more time on this.
Net Zero
Thank you for your valuable contribution Shibboleth.
The economics of the situation are coming clearly in to view.
People losing their incomes to India or China are no longer quite so believing of the Net Zero Dogma.
You may have noticed that the Net Zero U.K. Labour Party are in some difficulties.
The Prime minister might be gone before Christmas.Economics will always win in the end or that civilization will meet its end.
In a new poll, for the last two weeks, The Labour Party ( Net Zero) are in fourth place.
The party that is polling double that of The Labour Party, is Reform.
If there is to be an early General Election both Reform and The Conservative Party want to ditch Net Zero and “Drill Baby Drill”
Since the Industrial Revolution got underway, three hundred years ago, most people live longer lives, most people are more wealthy, yet this is at a time that Carbon dioxide has increased and the World has got slightly warmer.
If, from the inception of the Industrial Revolution the World had got slightly colder, I wonder if most people would have found their lives improved?Very interesting, an article I have just read on The Guardian, suggests that Britain was already starting to “Industrialise” from the end of the Tudor period, the time of James 6 (1)
https://www.theguardian.com/education/2024/apr/05/industrial-revolution-began-in-17th-not-18th-century-say-academics
To be honest, i had suspected that many were moving away from agriculture and moving into mining or making things, particularly for the empire, and the Royal Navy.
Britain was more than 100 years ahead of the rest of Western Europe.
This almost certainly shocked into being by the discovery of The Americas.The first Atlantic explores were mostly Italians, Portuguese and Spaniards.
Yet The Industrial Revolution started in the North West of Europe, probably in the Protestant areas.“The Huguenots were French Protestant Christians, primarily Calvinists, who faced intense religious persecution in France from the 16th to 18th centuries. This persecution, especially after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, led many to flee to other countries, including England, the Netherlands, and other parts of Europe. The Huguenots were often skilled artisans and professionals who made significant contributions to the economies of the countries where they settled, and they are credited with giving the English word “refugee” to the English language.”
The Lands that opened “some” peoples minds were the Lands, we now called Italy. I guess this was more incredible art aimed at rich buyers/patrons, rather than mass markets.Cobalt / Coltan
DR Congo is the world’s largest supplier of cobalt, which is essential for batteries in electric vehicles!
Quote BBC
“Rescuers are searching for survivors after a bridge collapsed at a cobalt mine in the Democratic Republic of Congo, killing at least 32 people.Unauthorised miners forced their way into the southern Kalando mine on Saturday despite being banned from the site, said local official Roy Kaumba Mayonde.
Military personnel guarding the site then reportedly fired guns, causing the bridge to collapse after panicked miners rushed across it, government mining agency SAEMAPE said.
The military has not responded to this allegation.”
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cqx3n7nq1d9oWhen we have been told that the modern solution to transport is Electric Vehicles, how clean they are, they never talk about the whole of life of the batteries/minerals.
I still do not think there is much accountability to reprocess the battery minerals, this is going to be a very dirty dangerous job but if we are kept on the path of EV somebody will have to make recycling work.The Americans are currently massed on the seas off shore of Venezuela
Quote Wikipedia
“Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez announced in 2009 that a significant reserve of coltan was discovered in western Venezuela”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ColtanIt has recently been said that the U.S.A. has now surpassed China, in being the biggest operator, end user of African minerals.
The state that controls the minerals is the one that makes the money and calls the shots.
Donald Trump does not want that state to be China, he wants it to be the U.S.A.How about this person Clark, do you think he is an idiot?
John Francis Clauser
won Nobel prize in 2022https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Clauser
Quote John Clauser
“The popular narrative about climate change reflects a dangerous corruption of science that threatens the world’s economy and the well being of billions of people. Misguided climate science has metastasized into massive shock-journalistic pseudoscience, in my opinion, there is no real climate crisis.”Trouble at mill.
it is too hot in the jungle of Brazil
COP30 on firehttps://www.bbc.co.uk/news/videos/cn5159k1krzo
Brazil seems to be unable to control the narrative on Global Warming
COP 30 not “encouraged” to discuss de-forestation .
Brazil wants more Oil exploration and more Natural gas exploration.It is almost as if they do not fully understand what Climate Alarmisim is all about?
On the BBC there are hints that so many jobs are being shed in the North Sea, that The Labour Administration are going to be softening their hardline NET ZERO doctrine.
Probably meaning, they will allow more fields to be actively worked?
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c0r9gyjkky0o
possibly something will come out in the budget, today?Well we have been given the Rachel Reeves Budget for decline.
A recent poll
for Find Out Now, taken 26/11/2025
Reform = 31
Conservative = 18
Greens = 17
Labour = 15
Lib Dems = 12so Labour are collapsing
and they seem to want to take all of us down with them.Here is a piece from NakedCapitalism that might interest you Michael.
“For more than 45 years, the UK has suffered not one, but two economic curses: the resource curse and the finance curse. Both were chosen, primarily by Margaret Thatcher, and both inflated the pound, destroyed industry, and left Britain dependent on hot money and speculation. In this video, I explain how we got here — and what we must do to rebuild a real economy based on work, fair reward and democracy.”
https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2025/11/the-uk-is-cursed-how-finance-destroyed-our-economy.html
I am not sure I agree with all of it but it does present some valid points for consideration. You might find it interesting to read through. Particularly how wasteful was the use of income from North Sea oil and how financialisation helped destroy the UK economy.
ET thank you.
I think that was mostly true.
At about the same time we were opening up the Oil Fields of the North Sea, we were starting to wind down the Coal Industry.
If you wound down the Coal Industry, you were marking down your choice, to end of days for the British Steel Industry.
Yes, you are correct, Mrs. Thatcher did say, something along the lines of, “We have London, why do we also need Industry?”.
She was wrong.Green Nightmare of Germany, a lesson to the rest of the World.
Much German Industry is re-locating to China or America, where there is much cheaper fuelhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLZZGjjuml8
Germany has cut itself off at the knees.
The U.K. is closely following Germany into economic suicide.I wrote this for the young children in my family and circle of friends. Most of them are under five years, so I hope it’s something you can understand too, Michael. Season’s Greetings.
A Christmas Story
Snow fell in quiet flakes over the North Pole like someone had shaken a pillow above the world. But inside the workshop, everything was anything but quiet.
“Elves!” Santa called, tugging at his red coat as if it had suddenly shrunk. “Where are the harness bells? Where’s the ribbon spool? And why—why—are my reindeer not in the yard?”
An elf with spectacles, Twill, slid down a ladder and saluted with a candy cane. “Sir, the bells are in Box Seven. The ribbon is currently… having a disagreement with the scissors. And the reindeer are gathered by the fir grove.”
“Gathered?” Santa repeated. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Yes,” Twill said gently, as if explaining gravity. “That appears to be part of the issue.”
Santa marched out into the blue-white evening. His boots crunched on snow. The sleigh sat ready, bright as a ruby in moonlight, stacked with wrapped presents like a small mountain of hope. But the harnesses lay in a neat pile, untouched.
And the reindeer—Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph—stood in a circle beneath the fir trees, their breath steaming, their antlers like dark branches against the sky.
They were not warming up. They were not prancing. They were not even looking at the sleigh.
They were looking at each other. And then—slowly—they looked at Santa.
Rudolph stepped forward. His red nose glowed, but not cheerfully. It looked more like a warning light on a ship.
“Santa,” Rudolph said, “we need to talk.”
Santa blinked. “We can talk after we deliver….”
“No,” said Donner, firm as a drum. “We talk before.”
Santa did something he almost never did. He felt confused. Confusion, to Santa, was like wearing mittens on your ears.
“All right,” he said carefully. “What’s this about?”
Prancer’s hooves stamped once, not impatiently—determined.
“It’s about work,” Prancer said. “And it’s about willing.”
Cupid tilted her head. “And it’s about the story you tell yourself. And everyone else, year after year, century after century..”
Santa frowned. “My story?”
Blitzen stepped up beside Rudolph. His eyes were kind, but there was a tiredness behind them, like a lantern running low on oil.
“The story,” Blitzen said, “that says humans are the point of everything. That the world is a stage built just for them. And we are… helpers. Tools. Delivery service.”
Santa opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Then tried again.
“But… Christmas is joy,” he said. “Giving. Kindness. Families together.”
Comet snorted softly. “Is it?”
“Of course,” Santa said quickly. “I’ve watched for centuries. Children laugh. Lights sparkle. People share food.”
“Yes,” said Vixen, “and then the next day they throw half of it away.”
Santa looked as though someone had suggested canceling snow.
“Throw away?”
Dancer’s ears flicked. “We’ve seen the piles behind the houses. We’ve flown over the bins. We’ve watched the landfills and rubbish tips grow like… like bad mountains.”
Rudolph’s nose glowed brighter.
“And we’ve decided,” Rudolph said, “we’re done.”
Santa’s heart—usually warm as a fireplace—made a small clunk inside his chest.
“Done?” he echoed.
Donner nodded. “The herd has voted.”
Blitzen added, “Unanimous.”
Santa stared at them, one by one, hoping to find a wink, a laugh, a “Just kidding!”
There was none. The reindeer stood like a forest: quiet, steady, impossible to push aside.
Santa swallowed. “You’re… striking?”
“We’re refusing,” Rudolph said, “to pull the sleigh ever again.”
The words landed in the snow like a dropped anvil.
Santa’s beard twitched. “But… but without you—”
“Exactly,” said Cupid.
Santa took a step back, as if the North Pole itself had shifted.
“Why?” he whispered. “Why now?”
Rudolph looked up at the stars. When he spoke, his voice was softer, almost sad.
“Because we’ve been watching what happens to the world below us. And we can’t pretend anymore.”1. The Reindeer’s Question
Santa tried to gather himself the way he gathered wrapping paper—quickly, neatly, with practiced hands.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s talk. But you must understand, I’m… I’m Santa. My whole purpose is to give.”
Dasher lifted his chin. “Is giving always good?”
Santa blinked. “Yes. I mean—most of the time. If you give kindly—”
“No,” Dasher said, not unkindly, just honestly. “We’re asking a different question.”
Prancer stepped forward again. “When you give, Santa… what story are you feeding?”
Santa’s eyebrows climbed. “A story of love.”
Rudolph nodded. “That’s the story you think you’re feeding. But we’ve been thinking about the story humans are actually living.”
“Humans live many stories,” Santa protested. “Some are kind.”
“Yes,” said Blitzen. “And some are very stupid and tell a very dangerous story.”
Santa looked from one reindeer to another. “What dangerous story?”
Donner’s voice was low. “The story that says: Humans are above everything else. That the world belongs to them. That other creatures exist for their pleasure or benefit, to do as they like.”
Santa’s mouth fell open. “But… humans love animals. They put out bird feeders!”
Vixen sighed. “Oh yeah! They also cut down forests where the birds live.”
Santa tried to laugh, but it came out like a whimper.
“We’re not here to scold,” Rudolph said. “We’re here to show you something. Like a teacher. Like… an old storyteller.”
Santa narrowed his eyes. “Since when are reindeer storytellers?”
Cupid smiled a little. “Since we started listening.”
Santa didn’t like the feeling that the world had turned upside down and the reindeer were holding the map.
“All right,” Santa said, folding his arms. “Show me.”
Rudolph nodded toward the sleigh. “Let’s sit there. Like a classroom.”
Santa walked to the sleigh and sat on the edge. The wood was cold through his trousers. The sack of presents behind him felt heavier than usual, as if each box had quietly gained a stone.
The reindeer formed a half-circle in front of him. Rudolph took one step closer.
“Santa,” he said, “do you know what ‘greenwashing’ is?”
Santa blinked. “It sounds like when Mrs. Claus tries to get berry stains out of my shirt.”
A few reindeer huffed amusedly. But Donner’s eyes stayed serious.
“Greenwashing,” Donner said, “is when someone makes something look ‘green’—friendly to nature—without truly changing what harms the Earth.”
Santa frowned. “People do that?”
Blitzen’s ears flicked. “Some companies do. Some leaders do. They paint things green so everyone relaxes and keeps buying.”
Rudolph nodded. “There are movies about it. Stories with pictures. People watching them are learning how often they’ve been tricked.”
Santa’s face tightened. “Tricked how?”
Rudolph’s nose glowed steadily, like a nightlight in a child’s room.
“Because they want to believe what they are being told”, Rudolph said, “they don’t want to think that they are harming nature and they don’t want to change the way they live….it’s too convenient and easy.”
Blitzen nodded towards one of the large sacks of presents behind Santa and said, “Look at the toys this year and what the labels say. ‘Eco-friendly’. ‘Made from sustainable woods’ . But they’re sprayed with chemicals and wrapped in plastic! Machines still need metals mined. Forests still get cut. Fuels still burn. And all the time people are told, ‘Don’t worry, it’s green now.’”
Santa’s mind snagged on one word. “Forests get cut… for green?”
“All the time,” said Prancer. “Every day, forests that have grown over centuries are cut down to satisfy human convenience. To maintain their way of life. Millions of trees are felled and made into toilet paper every month for goodness sake!”
Santa looked down at his boots. “But… surely the point is to help.”
“Sometimes the point becomes,” Vixen said, “to keep the same lifestyle and call it ‘saving the planet.’”
Santa lifted his head. “What does this have to do with Christmas?”
Comet answered quietly. “Christmas is a story too, Santa. And stories can be true… or they can hide truth.”
Santa stared at the sack. Bright paper. Shiny bows. A mountain of stuff. Paper and plastic. He felt the first prick of something he didn’t like at all.
Doubt.2. Rudolph’s Lesson
Rudolph leaned in, not like a scolding adult, but like an older friend explaining a puzzle.
“Santa,” he said, “you believe you’re spreading joy. We believe you’re also spreading a spell.”
Santa frowned. “A spell?”
“A spell that says,” Rudolph continued, “‘More is better.’”
Dasher nodded. “More toys. More gadgets. More wrapping. More shipping. More buying.”
Cupid said, “And when children become adults, the spell grows up with them.”
Santa bristled. “But children write letters! They ask with such hope.”
Dancer’s eyes softened. “Yes. They’re not the villains.”
“Villains?” Santa repeated, horrified.
“No one said villain,” Blitzen said quickly. “We’re talking about a story humans are trapped inside—like a snow globe you can’t escape.”
Donner took a slow step forward.
“We’ve seen the pattern,” he said. “Every year more lights, more plastic, more ‘must-have’ things. And then the same things thrown away. It becomes a habit… and habits become a way of life.”
Santa’s cheeks reddened. “But I’m not making them throw things away!”
“No,” said Vixen, “but you are one of the biggest symbols that buying and receiving is the same as love.”
Santa flinched as if the word “symbol” had hit him like a snowball packed with ice.
Rudolph spoke again, calm and clear.
“Remember the story about Ishmael,” he said, “the teacher who asks questions until the student sees the hidden story their culture lives by.”
Santa stared. “You’ve read Ishmael? The book by Daniel Quinn?”
Prancer’s tail flicked. “We’ve flown over enough libraries.”
Cupid added, “And enough bookshops.”
Rudolph continued. “The hidden story we see below is this: Humans believe the world belongs to them. They call themselves the owners. The bosses. The winners.”
Santa opened his mouth to argue—but stopped. Because, if he was honest, he’d heard humans talk that way.
“We conquered nature,” they said. “We tamed the wilderness.”
“It’s our resources.”
Donner’s voice came like a bell struck once.
“And because they believe they are above the world, they treat the world as below them.”
Santa looked away, toward the dark horizon.
“What have you seen?” he asked, softer now.
Blitzen answered first.
“We’ve seen forests shrink.”
Vixen added, “We’ve seen rivers turned the wrong colours.”
Comet said, “We’ve seen seas with plastic floating like dead jellyfish.”
Dancer said, “We’ve seen smoke from burning places where trees used to stand.”
Dasher said, “We’ve seen ice melt where we used to admire it.”
Santa’s throat tightened.
Rudolph’s voice gentled.
“And we’ve seen other creatures disappear,” he said. “Not because they chose to leave. Because they were pushed out.”
Santa’s eyes glistened, though he tried to blink it away.
“You mean… extinctions,” he whispered.
Donner nodded. “Yes.”
Santa’s hands gripped the edge of the sleigh until his knuckles looked like pale snow.
“But humans aren’t all the same,” Santa said. “Some are trying.”
“Yes,” Rudolph said. “And that’s why we’re talking to you. You are a story humans listen to. If your story changes, maybe theirs can too.”
Santa stared at him. “So you’re not striking because you hate humans.”
“No,” said Cupid. “We’re striking because we love the world. The real world, not the plastic and concrete monstrosity it;s become.”
“And because,” said Donner, “we love you enough to stop you.”
Santa’s breath came out in a shaky cloud.
“I don’t understand how stopping Christmas helps.”
Rudolph’s nose brightened.
“It’s not about stopping love,” he said. “It’s about stopping the lie that love equals stuff.”3. The Pipeline and the Wrapped Box
Rudolph turned his head slightly, as if listening to a far-off sound. Then he said:
“Do you not know how toxic the world has become in the last few decades? Humans are addicted to the very thing that will make the world uninhabitable for all of us. And Christmas is the time the consume even more of the stuff.”
“What stuff?” Asked Santa.
“Oil” the reindeer shouted in unison.
Santa’s brows knitted. “Oil… on Christmas?”
Donner’s voice was gentle but heavy.
“Oil becomes plastic,” Donner said. “Plastic becomes toys, packaging, shiny decorations. Oil becomes shipping fuel. Oil becomes the engines that move so much of what Christmas has become.”
Santa looked down at a bright plastic doll peeking from a sack tear. He suddenly imagined it as a drop of dark oil wearing a costume.
Rudolph continued. “Rich people and big companies promise things will be fine, even helpful—while people on the ground live and die with the damage.”
Santa’s face tightened.
“But I don’t buy oil,” he said weakly. “I make toys.”
Blitzen nodded. “But the world that makes most toys—”
“—burns oil to do it,” Vixen finished.
“And when people buy more than they need,” Dancer said, “it’s like saying, ‘Keep drilling. Keep cutting. Keep mining.’”
Santa’s shoulders slumped, the way a snowman slumps when the sun comes out.
“I never wanted that,” he murmured.
Rudolph’s eyes softened. “We know.”
Prancer tilted his head. “So here’s our question, Santa. If your work accidentally feeds a harmful story… what do you do?”
Santa stared at the snow.
“I… I don’t know,” he admitted.
And for Santa Claus, who had known where every child lived, and how to slip down every chimney, and how to make a doll’s eyes sparkle—
Not knowing felt like falling.4. The Old Story: Human Supremacy
Donner began to speak in the slow, clear way that makes even complicated things feel understandable.
“Once, long ago,” he said, “humans were part of the world like everyone else. They hunted and gathered. They moved when seasons changed. They took what they needed and learned the rules of living.”
Santa nodded. He knew those old nights, when people had fewer lights, but their stars were brighter.
“Then,” Donner said, “some humans started telling a new story. A story where they were not just a species… but special. People believed the world was just for them, to do as they please.”
Santa swallowed.
“They built bigger and bigger homes,” Donner continued. “They grew food in enormous fields where nothing else could live. They raised animals by the millions. They burned ancient forests. They dug up ancient bones—coal, oil—and set them on fire.”
Santa’s eyes widened. “Ancient bones?”
“Dead plants and tiny sea creatures from long ago,” Rudolph explained. “That time and Mother Nature turned into fuel.”
Santa shivered.
Blitzen added, “In Planet of the Humans, they show how even ‘green’ promises can hide the same hunger—because the problem isn’t only what power we use, but how much we take, and how fast.”
Dasher’s voice sharpened slightly. “Humans want the whole world to work like a store.”
Santa whispered, “A store?”
“A place where everything has a price,” Dasher said. “Trees. Fish. Water. Land. Even the air, sometimes. Money predicates everything.”
Santa stared at the snow, suddenly feeling it wasn’t just pretty—it was alive, part of something enormous.
Cupid stepped closer.
“The story of supremacy,” she said, “makes humans forget they are animals too. It makes them think they can live by different rules than everyone else.”
Santa’s cheeks flushed. “But humans are clever. Ingenious!”
“Clever isn’t the same as separate,” Rudolph said. “And ingenuity is certainly not the same as wisdom.”
Donner nodded. “Every species is clever in its own way. Bees build cities. Wolves coordinate hunts. Trees talk through roots and fungi.”
Santa blinked. “Trees talk?”
“Not with words,” Vixen said, “but with signals. Sharing. Warning.”
Santa’s mouth opened in wonder—and then he remembered the sack behind him.
If trees could share, why did humans hoard?
Rudolph asked the question Santa didn’t want to hear:
“What happens,” Rudolph said, “when a species acts like the world belongs to it?”
Santa swallowed hard. “Other species… suffer.”
“And if it continues?” Rudolph pressed.
Santa whispered, “They disappear.”
“And then?” Rudolph asked softly.
Santa’s voice cracked. “Then the world becomes… poorer.”
Rudolph nodded.
“And then,” Rudolph said, “humans discover the last part of the lesson: if you pull too many threads from the world’s web, the web tears. And you fall too.”5. The Child With Two Gifts
Santa stared at the presents. He imagined them arriving in warm houses, children squealing, paper flying, joy bursting like fireworks. Then he imagined the same toys broken, tossed away, replaced next year by newer ones.
He thought of a child holding two gifts: One was a toy. The other was a living world. He had been delivering the first with great care. But what if, by doing so the old way, he was helping humans drop the second? Santa looked up at Rudolph.
“What do you want from me?” Santa asked.
Rudolph’s answer was simple.
“We want you to change the story.”
Santa exhaled. “How?”
Donner said, “Start by telling the truth.”
Santa blinked. “The truth is… complicated.”
“Not for children,” Cupid said. “Children understand fairness. And the truth is about fairness.”
Rudolph stepped closer, his nose lighting Santa’s beard with a soft red glow.
“Here is the truth we want you to teach,” Rudolph said:
“We belong to the world. The world doesn’t belong to us.”
Santa repeated it silently. It sounded like a bell rung deep underwater.
“And,” Rudolph continued, “we share it equally with every other living creature—or we become extinct. No more Christmas.”
Santa’s stomach twisted.
“That’s… frightening,” he admitted.
“It’s also,” said Blitzen, “real.”
Santa sat very still. He felt old for the first time in centuries. Finally he asked, in a small voice:
“If I change the Christmas Story… will you pull the sleigh again?”
The reindeer did not answer right away. They looked at each other, as if listening to a voice older than all of them.
Then Rudolph said, “We’ll consider it.”
Santa nodded, thankful for even that.
“All right,” he said. “Tell me how.”6. The Reindeer’s New Christmas
Rudolph began, and the others filled in, like a choir where each voice mattered.
“First,” Rudolph said, “fewer presents.”
Santa flinched. “Fewer?”
“Enough,” Donner corrected. “Not mountains.”
“Quality,” Vixen said, “not quantity. Everything in moderation”
“Gifts that last,” Dancer said, “or gifts you do, not just gifts you get.”
Santa’s mind raced. “But the letters—”
Cupid said, “You can answer letters with a different promise.”
Santa blinked. “A different promise?”
Rudolph nodded. “A promise that Christmas is not a shopping season. It’s a remembering season.”
“Remembering what?” Santa asked.
Blitzen said, “That you don’t need to own the world to belong in it.”
Dasher said, “That other creatures are not background characters.”
Comet said, “That waste is not invisible.”
Prancer said, “That being ‘green’ isn’t about painting things the right colour—it’s about taking less and caring more.”
Santa swallowed. “And what about the big companies? The green promises?”
Rudolph’s nose glowed brighter again.
“You can teach children to ask questions,” Rudolph said. “When someone says, ‘This is eco-friendly,’ children can ask: ‘Does it still hurt forests? Does it still burn fuels? Does it still make mountains of rubbish?’ That’s how the green brainwashing breaks—when people stop believing the paint.”
Santa sat up straighter, a spark returning.
“I could include a note,” he murmured. “In every delivery. A Christmas note.”
Donner nodded. “A note that says: ‘You are part of the world. Be kind to it.’”
Santa’s eyes brightened. “And I can bring gifts that help—seed packets, storybooks, tools to mend, not just replace.”
Cupid smiled. “Now you’re thinking like a creature of the world.”
Santa paused. “But—will children accept fewer gifts?”
Rudolph’s voice softened.
“Children accept what the grown-ups teach,” he said. “They can learn ‘enough’ the way they learn ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”
Santa looked down at his sack again. Suddenly it seemed less like magic and more like… a test.
A test of what Christmas really meant.7. Santa’s Confession
Santa took a deep breath.
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
All nine reindeer watched him.
“When I started,” Santa said, “I didn’t bring mountains. I brought small things. A carved toy. A sweet. A warm blanket. Sometimes only an orange. The joy wasn’t in the size. It was in the surprise. The care.”
Rudolph’s ears tilted forward.
“But over time,” Santa continued, “humans changed. They wanted more. They built their own stories—advertisements, catalogs, ‘sales.’ And I… I tried to keep up.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought I was keeping Christmas alive,” he whispered. “Maybe I was letting it be… destroyed.”
The reindeer were quiet.
Then Blitzen stepped forward and touched Santa’s sleeve with his nose—gentle as a falling flake.
“It happens,” Blitzen said. “Even to kind legends.”
Rudolph’s voice was calm.
“What matters,” Rudolph said, “is what you do now.”
Santa wiped his eyes quickly, pretending it was snow.
“All right,” Santa said, voice steadier. “We do it your way. We change the story.”
He stood and reached into the sack and pulled out a handful of the flashiest, plastic-wrapped items. He set them aside. Then he reached deeper and found simpler things: a wooden spinning top, a knitted hat, a book with a fox on the cover, a small tin of seeds labeled WILDFLOWERS.
He held up the seeds.
“This,” Santa said, “is a present that grows.”
Rudolph’s nose glowed warmly now, like a hearth.
“And,” Rudolph said, “it’s a present that gives back.”
Santa nodded, turning to the sleigh.
“We’ll rewrite the list,” he said. “We’ll deliver fewer things… and more meaning.”
Donner asked, “And the note?”
Santa smiled—really smiled—for the first time since the strike began.
“Oh, the note,” Santa said. “Yes. The note will go with every gift.”
He cleared his throat as if addressing a classroom of children.
Santa’s voice became storyteller-strong:
“Dear Child,Christmas is not about presents.
It’s about loving the world you live in; a world is not yours to own, but to belong to, like the birds, and trees, and fish, and reindeer.
Share it kindly, and treat everything with respect and love and preserve it all as you have found it.”
Santa looked up at the reindeer. “Like that?”
Cupid’s eyes shone. “Like that.”
Rudolph held Santa’s gaze.
“One more thing,” Rudolph said.
Santa nodded. “Yes?”
Rudolph’s voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of snow on a roof.
“If humans keep acting like the world belongs to them,” Rudolph said, “they won’t just lose presents. They’ll lose seasons. They’ll lose animals. They’ll lose forests. They’ll lose the steady ground under their feet.”
Santa nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“And if they learn?” Santa asked.
Rudolph smiled ruefully.
“Then Christmas can become what it was meant to be,” he said. “A celebration of belonging.”8. The Sleigh That Wouldn’t Move
Santa went to the harnesses. He lifted one. The bells jingled, bright and familiar.
He looked at the reindeer. “Will you—?”
Donner stepped forward. “We said we’d consider it.”
Rudolph walked up beside Donner.
“We will pull,” Rudolph said, “but not as servants.”
Santa’s eyebrows lifted. “Then as what?”
“As partners,” Rudolph said. “As living beings with consent.”
Santa nodded firmly. “Agreed.”
Rudolph looked back at the herd.
“All in favour?” Rudolph asked.
Nine hooves stamped once in the snow—together—like a single heartbeat.
Santa’s chest loosened, as if someone had untied a tight ribbon inside him.
“Thank you,” Santa whispered.
Rudolph shook his head. “Don’t thank us yet. Show us.”
Santa nodded. “I will.”
The elves came running, wide-eyed, carrying fewer sacks than usual—lighter, tidier, more thoughtful.
Twill the elf looked at Santa and whispered, “Sir… is this a mistake?”
Santa smiled.
“No,” Santa said. “It’s a correction.”
The reindeer took their places. The harnesses went on—not like chains, but like uniforms chosen freely. Santa climbed into the sleigh. He held the reins softly, not as a boss, but as a guide.
Rudolph looked back one last time.
“Santa,” he said, “remember: the world isn’t a toy chest.”
Santa nodded. “I remember.”
“And remember,” Rudolph added, “children can understand hard truths when you tell them with love.”
Santa swallowed. “I will.”
Rudolph turned forward.
His nose shone bright against the dark sky.
“Ready?” Santa asked.
The reindeer inhaled together. Their breath rose like a promise. And then—because this was still a Christmas story, and some magic deserved to survive— the sleigh lifted.
Not because Santa commanded it.
But because the world, just for this night, allowed it.9. Down Below, A Different Kind of Morning
They flew over cities where lights glittered like spilled jewels. They flew over forests where owls blinked at them. They flew over oceans where moonlight painted silver paths.
And as they went, Santa noticed something he’d somehow missed for centuries:
The world below was not a stage. It was a living, breathing home.
In the first house, Santa left one gift instead of five.
A book. A small wooden toy. A note.
In another, he left a repair kit—needles, thread, patches—and a note.
In another, he left wildflower seeds and a note.
And everywhere, always, the note.
When the morning came, some children frowned at the smaller piles.
But many read the note aloud.
Some asked their parents questions.
“Why does Santa say the world doesn’t belong to us?”
“Why does he say we belong to it?”
“Why does he say we share it with reindeer?”
Parents paused—really paused—for perhaps the first time in a long time.
Some parents smiled. Some looked ashamed. Some looked thoughtful. Across the world, every grown-up realised that something had happened, that the story they believed in had changed. For the better.
And in one small house, a child held up the wildflower seeds.
“Mum,” the child said, “can we plant these?”
The mother blinked. Then she nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, we can.”
Outside, winter wind brushed the window.
Inside, something new warmed the room.
Not the heat of more stuff.
But the heat of a better story beginning.10. The Ending the Reindeer Wanted
Back at the North Pole, the sleigh returned lighter, quieter, almost peaceful. Santa climbed down. He looked at the reindeer.
“You were right,” Santa said.
Rudolph’s nose glowed softly, like a candle that didn’t need a match.
“About what?” Rudolph asked.
Santa smiled, tired but true.
“That I don’t deliver Christmas,” Santa said. “I deliver a message.”
Donner nodded. “And messages can change.”
Santa looked up at the night sky.
“Then let this be the message from now on,” Santa said. “For children and grown-ups both:
We are not the owners of the world.
We are guests.
We share this home with every living creature.
And if we forget that… we don’t win. We end.”
The reindeer stood very still.
Then Blitzen said softly, “That’s the first honest Christmas message I’ve heard in a long time.”
Santa chuckled through misty eyes. “It may also be the first Christmas where I’m not carrying a mountain.”
Cupid smiled. “Maybe joy was never meant to be heavy.”
Rudolph stepped forward and touched Santa’s sleeve again.
“Goodnight, Santa,” Rudolph said.
Santa nodded.
“Goodnight, Rudolph,” Santa replied. “And… thank you for being my Ishmael.”
Rudolph’s eyes twinkled.
“Just keep learning,” he said. “That’s all.”
And as the Mirrie Dancers shimmered like a ribbon across the sky, Santa and the reindeer stood together— not as master and workers, but as fellow creatures in a shared world—hoping humans would learn the same message, before the last page of the story turned.Peace, love and kindness to all, every day, not just at Christmas.
Hello Shibboleth, I would surmise most five year old would not grasp all your intentions.
My six year old grandson, would have cleared off before I read half of that.
Apparently we are to all have battery cars – soon.
It will not be me, my very modest car is a small 22 year old Diesel Ford.
£30 a year to tax.
Firms wanting minerals for battery cars, are wanting to rake over the sea floors to reap lumps of Cobalt.
These lumps may be up to a million years old, they help make Oxygen, that allows an Oxygenated layer, close to the sea bed, this allows complex life to exist/flourish in these zones.
Remove the nodules for a short term use and the Oxygen layer will go.
Then the complex web of life will also go.
But at least people can wave as they glide by, in their battery cars.Looks like the magic of E.V. is no more substantial than the dream of magic mushrooms.
Scales have been falling from the eyes of car manufacturers, the tech bubble has burst.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzvTt2xq8os
Ford has lost twenty billion.
Of the 98 companies producing cars in China, most are going caput.
I think this is the front of the wave that will tsunami Net Zero into the grave.Net Zero not going so dandy.
“The US is immediately pausing leases for offshore wind energy projects currently being built near the Atlantic coastline, citing security concerns.
In a statement, the Department of the Interior said it was pausing five large-sale projects to look into how windmills could interfere with radar and create other risks to east coast cities.
President Donald Trump has long opposed wind energy, saying it is unreliable and drives up costs, and attempted to stop all projects when he returned to office. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum has said wind farms have no future in the US energy grid.”
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cd74lyr094voSoon, it might only be Ed Milliband, who still believes in this expensive stuff?
The three most unpopular regimes in Western Europe are Germany, France and the United Kingdom.
Now what could possibly link them?
Transgenderism
Promotion of E.V.
Net Zero
Fund and promote war with Russia.
Allow unlimited third world immigration.
De-Industrialization.
Not really going spiffingly, is it?WEhat, these three regimes have in common, is a complete disconnect from their voting populations.
They are deaf and blind, to what the working people of their countries are interested, are wanting solutions to.
These hurts, decimations
seem to be of no interest to the ruling classes.
Some sort of mind- blindness must be happening, to these regimes.
No government can stand for long against the mass cry of its people.
The Bulgarian regime has just collapsed.
The Syrian regime collapsed.
Every regime – will collapse, if it is no longer interested in the concerns of its own people.Fantastic story, Shibboleth – thank you for posting it here. Best contribution to this thread to date by a country mile. Showed it to the missus too – she described it as ‘brilliant’.
But I fear it’s a case of casting pearls before swine, or at least a swine, on this thread.
glenn_nl,
yes the ordinary working swine, the undeserving swine, the unmannered swine, the uneducated swine,
all being buggered by the lunatic regimes, that currently hold the tillers.Glenn, thank you for the kind and gracious words. I thought it might have provided another story- or perspective – to consider other than the usual diatribe of blaming woke politicians. Quelle surprise!
May I take the opportunity of wishing you and the other contributors, a peaceful, content and healthy Christmas and New Year.
Whole of Life costs.
Green Tech is, apparently being introduced for a single reason.
That reason is to combat Global Warming.
If you consume Carbon, Carbon will combine with Oxygen in the air and form Carbon dioxide, this we are told will magnify the Green House Effect.
This is probably true.
However, the very slight detectable warming, seems to have a lot of positive outcomes, like the Greening of dry zones.
Like the increase in many crop yields.
Like the decrease in old people, in poor people, becoming dead because of the Cold.
Yet are we thinking about the whole of life costs of Green Tech.
The Yellow stuff has to be open-cast mined in some dirt poor country in Africa or in Russia, this is converted to Yellowcake but much dust is blown about, containing particles of Uranium.
After the fuel precurssor is moved to Russia or America or China or France, much effort is then expended in spinning this stuff up, to attain the desired toxix strength.
After the nuclear stuff turns water in to steam, the spent fuel rods are taken out of the Pressure Reactor Vessel and deposited in wet holding tanks, now here is the rub, this will last for many decades – nobody knows what to do with the contaminated wast.
In Fukushima, it is now thought that most of the nuclear contamination, came from the spent fuel, this is in much larger and more open spaces than the unused fuel.
In fact, other than vitrifying the spent fuel and hiding it some place, there are not many satisfactory solutions.
The more nuclear plants that are built, for Green-thinking , the more spent fuel there will be.
Much can also be made of whole of life consequences for Lithium Batteries.
Nowhere in the world are they effectively, economically, dealing with this mountain of wast.
