The global warming battle warms up

For now the stately Global Warming galleon sails on.

Admiral Voodoo stands on the deck. No one knows how he came to be the admiral, since he had not worked his way up the naval ranks, but there he stands in his famously splendid uniform.

For years the great ship sailed serenely on, untroubled by the small craft around trying to impede it. But then boats started to appear carrying a small mounted gun. Some took pot shots at the Admiral's regalia, his jacket alone rumoured to have cost a fabulous sum. Others through their loud hailers accused him of lying in dispatches to the politicians back home.

But for all the fire directed at the Admiral, he remained standing. "Mere flesh wounds", he assured his sailors grandly, and his crew loyally rallied round him, apart from a rebellious Indian officer who was whispering that the ship should by all means continue on its mission, but perhaps the Admiral in his resplendent brocade should be cast off.

But then craft with larger guns appeared, and they began to fire at the galleon itself. SS Glaciergate, SS Amazongate and others were firing at the rigging. As fire from Glaciergate ripped one of the sails to shreds, some of the ratings muttered that they had warned the officers not to rig the ship that way. 'Why didn't you say so before?' others replied, as the galleon's smooth glide was interrupted. But the Admiral sent some officers to haul down that one sail, while remaining defiantly on the deck, his gaze still fixed on the destination.

As the Admiral refused to notice the other torn sails, the galleon journeyed on, though less evenly than before.

But then another boat appeared, with a heavier gun - SS Temperaturegate. They did not train their fire on individual sails, but aimed to hole the galleon below the waterline. For if there had been no global warming,  the galleon's voyage would become purposeless and would be doomed. This time it would not be an individual sail that suffered, but the very structure of the galleon itself - damage which the crew could not repair in the middle of a voyage.

Admiral Voodoo sent dispatches saying they had taken a small amount of fire from SS Glaciergate, but there was no damage elsewhere. For, he thought, if his illustrious predecessor Nelson had achieved victory despite having one eye and arm, why should fire trained upon his successor harm the cause? And indeed as he put his telescope to his own injured eye, he could see no damage at all.

News sometimes travels slowly, both from a galleon to its masters at home and from a politician's ears and eyes to his judgement. The Green Tendency, who by stealth had taken over both parliamentary front benches (already themselves green), kept themselves in ignorance of the fire raking their precious galleon. Closing their eyes and putting their fingers in their ears, they continued to chant their green mantras, as their courtiers stroked their suits - which were also expensive. The Green hangers-on around them smiled and applauded, and their minions continued to make plans to spend huge sums of their subjects' money combating a carbon trace gas which was actually in short supply.

Meanwhile, the gunfire continued on the open sea. And the subjects - cast out from influence and discussion -  gnashed their teeth and wailed, for no one would heed their cries that they were more concerned about jobs and education and health and population pressure than with beggaring themselves to propitiate the green deities, when their litany seemed less and less convincing.

For the politicians' advisors had told them that the science was settled, and that the Global Warming galleon was sailing serenely on. And the politicians knew that they knew best. For why would they have been placed in positions of power if they were unable to see further than their subjects?

But the annoying boats kept circling and firing.