Wankers Actively Looking To Be Offended!

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts

Spain’s Blackout Cover-Up: Net Zero Zealotry and the Lies of Sánchez

 

On April 28, 2025, Spain, Portugal, and parts of southern France plunged into darkness, suffering one of Europe’s worst blackouts in history. For 18 hours, 60 million people grappled with halted trains, darkened streets, and paralysed businesses, while three deaths in Galicia underscored the human toll. The Spanish government, led by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, has scrambled to restore power and public trust, but its response reeks of obfuscation and outright deception. Far from seeking truth, Sánchez and his administration are burying the blackout’s cause under a pile of platitudes, desperate to shield their net zero dogma from scrutiny. This is not governance—it’s a scandalous betrayal of a nation left in the dark.

 

The blackout’s origins are murky, but the Spanish government’s refusal to provide clear answers fuels suspicion. Red Eléctrica, Spain’s grid operator, reported a “strong oscillation in power flow” and a “very significant loss of generation,” with 15 gigawatts—60% of national demand—vanishing in seconds. Initial theories pointed to a technical failure, possibly in a high-voltage interconnector with France, or a “generation disconnection” event. Yet, Sánchez has dismissed speculation, particularly around renewable energy, as “lies,” insisting that “no hypothesis is being ruled out” while offering no substantive explanation. This vagueness is not caution—it’s a deliberate smokescreen to protect Spain’s aggressive net zero agenda.

 

Spain is Europe’s poster child for renewable energy, with solar and wind accounting for 56% of electricity in 2024 and 71% at the blackout’s onset (59% solar, 12% wind). Just days before, the nation celebrated running its grid entirely on green power, a milestone hailed by Sánchez’s government as proof of net zero’s triumph. But when the lights went out, the narrative shifted. Sánchez and Red Eléctrica’s chairwoman, Beatriz Corredor, swiftly denied any link to renewables, claiming demand was low and supply ample. This reeks of denialism, especially when the grid operator itself admitted a “massive loss of renewable power” destabilised the system.

 

The truth is inconvenient for Sánchez’s net zero zealots. Renewable energy, while laudable in theory, introduces volatility that Spain’s ageing grid is ill-equipped to handle. Unlike gas or coal plants, which provide “inertia” through spinning turbines to stabilise frequency, solar and wind lack this cushion, making grids brittle during sudden disruptions. Experts have long warned that Spain’s rapid renewable rollout outpaces infrastructure upgrades, with insufficient battery storage to manage solar’s daytime surges or wind’s variability. RBC estimates the blackout’s economic cost at €2.25–4.5 billion, blaming government complacency over a solar-heavy system. Yet, Sánchez dismisses these concerns, doubling down on plans to hit 81% renewable energy by 2030.

 

The government’s evasiveness suggests a deeper fear: admitting that net zero policies may have amplified the crisis. Instead of transparency, Sánchez has politicised the blackout, attacking critics who question renewables as peddlers of misinformation. His call for a European Commission investigation feels like a stalling tactic, deferring accountability while the public reels. Meanwhile, Red Eléctrica has ruled out a cyberattack, human error, and extreme weather, leaving the “freak incident” excuse as a flimsy catch-all. This refusal to engage with the renewable question—despite the grid’s heavy reliance on solar at the time—betrays a government more committed to ideology than reality.

 

Public sentiment on platforms like X reflects growing distrust. Posts have branded the blackout a consequence of “net zero chaos,” with some claiming Spain’s green triumph preceded a catastrophic failure. While these voices risk oversimplification, they capture a frustration Sánchez ignores at his peril. Energy analyst Kathryn Porter has warned that renewable-heavy grids, like the UK’s, face similar risks, citing 500 breaches of operational limits each winter. Spain’s blackout, far from an anomaly, may be a harbinger of net zero’s Achilles’ heel: a grid that collapses under its own ambition.

 

Sánchez’s government has form when it comes to dodging hard truths. Its minority coalition, propped up by green activists, thrives on net zero rhetoric but flinches at accountability. The blackout’s aftermath—schools closed, hospitals on generators, commuters trapped in tunnels—demands candour, not platitudes. Yet, Sánchez offers only promises of “investigations” and vague assurances that “this cannot happen again.” If the cause is indeed a grid overstretched by renewables, as some experts suggest, his refusal to confront this possibility is not just negligent—it’s a lie by omission that endangers millions.

 

The Spanish people deserve better. They deserve a government that prioritises reliable power over green dogma, one that invests in storage and grid resilience rather than chasing headlines. Sánchez’s net zero zealotry has turned a nation into a cautionary tale, and his lies about the blackout only deepen the betrayal. Until he faces the truth—that renewables, without robust infrastructure, can destabilise as much as they decarbonise—Spain risks more days of darkness. The lights are back on, but the shadow of deceit lingers.

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts

Dacorum Borough Council Cancels VE Day: A Spineless Surrender to Woke Nonsense

In a move that defies logic, decency, and any semblance of historical gratitude, Dacorum Borough Council, under the control of the Liberal Democrats, has axed this year’s VE Day celebration, branding it—wait for it—“too elitist.” Yes, you read that correctly. A day meant to honour the triumph over tyranny, the sacrifices of millions, and the hard-won peace of 1945 has been scrapped because, apparently, it doesn’t vibe with the council’s obsession with pandering to the perpetually offended. This isn’t just a misstep; it’s a gutless betrayal of our shared heritage, and Dacorum Borough Council should be ashamed.

 

Let’s unpack this idiocy. VE Day—Victory in Europe Day—marks the moment when Nazi Germany surrendered, ending years of bloodshed, oppression, and genocide in Europe. It’s not a jingoistic flex or a private club for toffs in top hats. It’s a collective sigh of relief, a tribute to the ordinary men and women—soldiers, factory workers, nurses, and families—who endured unimaginable hardship to secure the freedoms we take for granted. The Liberal Democrat-led council’s claim that it’s “elitist” is so detached from reality it’s almost performance art. Who’s the elite here? The veterans who stormed Normandy or the councillors sipping lattes while cancelling history?

 

What’s next—binning Remembrance Day because poppies hurt someone’s feelings? Dacorum Borough Council hasn’t even bothered to explain what “elitist” means in this context. Is it the bunting? The brass bands? The audacity of celebrating a victory over fascism? No, this is just the latest spasm of woke cowardice, where anything that smells faintly of tradition gets torched on the altar of inclusivity. Never mind that VE Day belongs to everyone—rich, poor, young, old, from every corner of the nation. The Liberal Democrats have decided it’s a posh relic, unfit for the enlightened utopia they’re apparently building.

 

And let’s talk about the timing. We’re in 2025, 80 years after VE Day itself, a milestone that should’ve been a chance to reflect, educate, and unite. Instead, Dacorum Borough Council’s handed us a masterclass in division, signalling that honouring the past is somehow oppressive. What message does this send to the dwindling number of veterans still with us? “Sorry, grandad, your sacrifice is cancelled—too exclusive.” It’s a slap in the face to every family with a story of loss or resilience from that era, which is to say, almost all of us.

 

The real elitism here is the council’s arrogance. The Liberal Democrats have appointed themselves arbiters of what’s morally acceptable, dismissing the public’s right to commemorate a defining moment in history. Did they consult anyone? Poll the residents? Of course not—why bother when you’re this smug? This isn’t about inclusivity; it’s about control. They’d rather virtue-signal to a tiny clique of complainers than risk the imagined backlash of a few Twitter whiners. Meanwhile, the rest of us—normal people who’d happily raise a glass to 1945—are left scratching our heads at this self-inflicted farce.

 

Dacorum Borough Council could’ve used VE Day to bring people together. A street party, a history talk, a nod to the diverse Allied forces—there were a thousand ways to make it meaningful. Instead, they’ve chosen erasure, proving they’re more interested in dodging controversy than leading a community. It’s spineless, it’s shortsighted, and it’s an insult to the very freedoms those wartime heroes fought for.

 

So here’s a suggestion: reverse this asinine decision. Reinstate the celebration, apologise to the public, and let us honour VE Day properly. If the Liberal Democrat-controlled Dacorum Borough Council won’t, then we should do it ourselves—because no amount of bureaucratic hand-wringing can cancel history. The people deserve better than this pathetic surrender to nonsense. Shame on you, councillors. Shame on you.

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts

Don't Fly With Me - The Net Zero Zealots: A First-Class Hypocrisy

Caroline Lucas, the Green Party’s perennial scold, has taken to Twitter—or whatever we’re calling it these days—to demand a halt to Luton Airport’s expansion. Her reasoning? People shouldn’t be jetting off abroad for holidays; they should keep their hard-earned cash in Britain’s soggy confines instead. Not to be outdone, the chair of the Climate Change Committee has chimed in, declaring that the rich—those dastardly one-percentres—should be banned from flying off on their luxurious getaways altogether. The message is clear: the skies are for the virtuous, not the vulgar.

 

This is the latest salvo in the war on common sense waged by Britain’s Net Zero zealots—a crusade so steeped in sanctimony it could make a saint blush. Let’s unpack this, shall we? The idea that halting an airport expansion will somehow save the planet is laughable when you consider the global reality. Aviation accounts for roughly 2% of global CO2 emissions, a fraction dwarfed by industrial behemoths like manufacturing or shipping. Luton Airport isn’t exactly the linchpin of climate catastrophe—it’s a modest hub for budget airlines ferrying sunburnt Brits to Málaga, not a private jet playground for oligarchs. But why let facts spoil a good moral panic?

 

Lucas’s prescription—stay home, spend local— reeks of the kind of parochialism that would’ve made medieval peasants nod in approval. Never mind that tourism abroad supports millions of livelihoods in poorer nations, or that cultural exchange might just broaden the horizons of a nation increasingly obsessed with its own navel. No, the Net Zero faithful would rather we all hunker down in Skegness, clutching our pounds and shivering under a grey sky, than dare to seek a week of sunshine. It’s austerity dressed up as altruism.

 

And then there’s the Climate Committee chair’s class-war twist: the rich shouldn’t fly. It’s a deliciously populist soundbite, dripping with envy and righteous fury. But peel back the rhetoric, and the irony shines brighter than a Mediterranean sun. Who, exactly, gets to define “rich”? And who, pray tell, will still be soaring above the clouds when the plebs are grounded? Here’s a hint: it won’t be you or me. It’ll be the politicians, the NGOs, the climate conference jet-setters, and—naturally—the virtue-signalling celebrities who preach carbon penance while posing for selfies at 30,000 feet.

 

Picture it: Caroline Lucas, fresh from a taxpayer-funded jaunt to some urgent climate summit, tutting at a nurse who saved up for a Ryanair flight to Alicante. Or the chair of the Climate Committee, sipping champagne at a gala, nodding approvingly as Taylor Swift’s private jet touches down for her next “sustainable” tour. The Net Zero elite don’t want to end flying—they want to monopolise it. The skies, it seems, are reserved for those who can afford the hypocrisy.

 

This isn’t about saving the planet; it’s about control. It’s about shaming ordinary people out of small joys while the anointed few jet off to Davos or COP-whatever-number-we’re-on-now. The zealots peddle a vision of sacrifice that conveniently exempts themselves, a moral high ground built on the backs of everyone else’s grounded dreams. If they truly cared about emissions, they’d target the real culprits—industrial polluters, not holidaymakers—but that wouldn’t make for such a snappy tweet.

 

So, let’s call it what it is: a power grab wrapped in green dogma. Luton Airport’s expansion isn’t the end of the world, but the Net Zero zealots’ hypocrisy just might be the end of reason. Next time you’re dreaming of a cheap flight to somewhere warm, remember: the only ones allowed to take off are the ones telling you to stay put. Isn’t that a gas? Or, rather, a sustainably sourced biofuel?

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts

The Rape That Was a "One-Off" - FFS!

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts

The Folly of Norwood Primary: Banning Easter in the Name of "Inclusivity" is a Cultural Gut Punch

In a move that reeks of cowardice masquerading as virtue, Norwood Primary School in Eastleigh, Hampshire, has axed its annual Easter celebrations—both the Easter Bonnet Parade and the Easter Service—under the flimsy pretence of "respecting diverse religious beliefs." Headteacher Stephanie Mander, in a letter dripping with sanctimonious platitudes, claims this decision fosters "a more inclusive atmosphere that honours and respects the beliefs of all our children and their families." But let’s call this what it is: a spineless capitulation that doesn’t unite—it obliterates. Far from inclusivity, this is exclusion dressed up in progressive jargon, a deliberate erasure of a cornerstone of British heritage that leaves Christian traditions—and the families who cherish them—out in the cold.

 

Easter isn’t just some quaint school event; it’s a cultural and historical touchstone, woven into the fabric of the UK’s identity. For centuries, it’s marked the Christian celebration of resurrection and renewal, a season of reflection and community that transcends mere religion to shape national customs—think hot cross buns, egg hunts, and, yes, bonnet parades. Norwood’s decision doesn’t "honour" diversity; it stomps on a tradition that’s been a shared joy for generations, all to avoid the imagined offence of a nebulous "other." If inclusivity were the real goal, why not expand the calendar to celebrate Eid, Diwali, and Easter alike? Instead, Mander opts for subtraction, not addition—cancelling rather than creating.

 

The hypocrisy is glaring. Norwood’s own website boasts a "Respect for other faiths and beliefs" page, proudly declaring that "important celebrations in the lives of our children and school community are marked and celebrated together," including Eid, Diwali, Christmas, and Easter. So what changed? Did Easter suddenly become less worthy of respect? Or did the school buckle under the pressure of a hyper-sensitive cultural climate that equates neutrality with virtue? Mander’s letter offers a clue: the school will replace Easter with "Refugee Week" in June, as part of a bid to become an "accredited School of Sanctuary." Noble as that sounds, it’s a bait-and-switch—swapping a deeply rooted religious and cultural event for a secular cause du jour. 

 

Inclusivity, it seems, only applies when it’s politically fashionable.

 

Critics online have rightly skewered this move. One X post nailed it: "This isn’t inclusivity if you’re cancelling Christian traditions and then favouring others." Another asked, "Why not celebrate them all, rather than cutting out the actual religion of the UK?" 

 

The backlash isn’t just noise—it’s a howl of frustration from a community watching its heritage dismantled under the guise of progress. And the fear is real: if Easter’s expendable, what’s next—Christmas? The school’s vague promise to "explore alternative ways to celebrate the season in future years" rings hollow when they’ve already torched the traditions people loved.

 

Mander’s defence—that this aligns with "values of inclusivity and respect for diversity"—collapses under scrutiny. True inclusivity doesn’t erase one group’s identity to appease another; it builds a bigger table. By scrapping Easter, Norwood isn’t respecting diversity—it’s signalling that some beliefs are more equal than others. The message to Christian families is clear: your traditions don’t matter as much as our agenda. And let’s not kid ourselves—this isn’t about the kids. It’s about adults chasing brownie points in a cultural game where "tolerance" means silencing anything that might ruffle feathers.

 

The irony? 

 

This isn’t even bold. It’s the path of least resistance, a lazy shortcut to avoid hard conversations about balancing heritage and diversity. Real leadership would’ve found a way to honour Easter and embrace other faiths, not pit them against each other in a zero-sum game. Instead, Norwood’s handed us a masterclass in how to alienate a community while pretending to unite it. If this is inclusivity, it’s a hollow, brittle version—one that sacrifices history, joy, and identity on the altar of fleeting approval. Shame on Norwood Primary for thinking a ban could ever build a bridge.

www.nannyknowsbest.com is brought to you by www.kenfrost.com "The Living Brand"

Visit Oh So Swedish Swedish arts and handicrafts