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Richard Tice's guide to sitting back and enjoying a wildfire

By Richard Tice, Reform shadow minister for not being Farage and MP of somewhere urgh

WHY the hysteria? Climate change can’t be fought. Instead, follow these simple rules and you’ll find yourself savouring the wildfires in your neighbourhood. 

Choose a vantage point

Ideally a hill, but if it offers spectacular views the roof of a neighbour’s house is fine as long as you’re more English than they are. Set up a folding chair, an ice bucket and opera glasses and watch the spectacle unfold. Keep an eye out for the group of scrotal teenagers who set it, they are natural Reform canvassers. 

Enjoy the panic

The woke Fire Brigade, the something-for-nothing crew, the police with their so-called concern for public safety – they’ll all be scurrying around, bleating about danger from the fires which have dominated this proud country since time immemorial. I don’t recall anyone screeching the Great Fire of London should be ‘put out’! Lefty nonsense. 

Bask in the heat 

If global warming is real – and many prominent-on-the-internet scientists believe it isn’t – then isn’t that a blessing? Haven’t we all complained about the British weather? The truth is, the liberal commentariat is outraged that Clacton, Blackpoool, Skegness and other Reform-loving towns will be popular holiday resorts again, and Tuscany closed down. 

Imagine Green faces

As the grassfire spreads to the trees – wow, that pine went up like a rocket! – you should be chuckling away as you picture the dismayed fizzogs of the Green lobby. Every tree consumed by flames is a slap in their stupid, self-satisfied faces, which means every tree that burns is a win for good old-fashioned common sense alarm clock Britain. 

Toast British ingenuity

Fires in Spain and France? Caused by mere accident. Fires in the UK? Set by children making their own entertainment, gloriously discarded fag-ends from white van windows, or celebratory fireworks. Let’s toast them with a pint of ale and a pack of ten per cent pork sausages on the disposable barbecue. Take that, Burnham.