1. Vegetarianism is evil
I have nothing against vegetarians. What bothers me is the evangelical militancy of their creed. Over the weekend, for example, it emerged that a sinister cabal of vegans has gone to war on cheeseburgers. If only we all give up meat, their argument runs, then we will reduce our carbon footprint and save the planet.
But even supposing man-made global warming were a problem – which of course it isn’t – I’m not sure that universal vegetarianism would be a price worth paying in order to save the world. At Glastonbury, by far the most verdant and tranquil section is the hippy zone known as the Green Fields.
Boy and I would happily have spent most of our festival there but for one major problem: all the food stalls there are either vegan or vegetarian. You could survive there for a morning but not for a whole day: if the meat deprivation didn’t actually kill you then it would certainly rot your brain to the point where you might start believing that, say, nukes aren’t a good thing which guard our safety, or that the most vicious land-based carnivore on earth – the polar bear – is cute and cuddly and in need of protection.
2. Never Trust A Hippy
The only reason that Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper can cruise across America on their choppers in Easy Rider is because they have just sold a shedload of drugs to Phil Spector. Hippydom is not self-financing: one way or another, the bearded long-hairs are after your money.
I love the yoghurt-weaving, Buddhist-chanting, permacultivated Green Fields (see above) but the only reason they can exist, the only reason Glastonbury can exist, is because of the gazillions the festival makes from the punters who’ve paid £215 for their tickets and the stallholders who pay a fortune for one of the lucrative pitches which can make as much over one long weekend as they’d normally make in an entire year.
3. Glastonbury is great because capitalism is great
The thing I love about capitalism is that way it endlessly seeks new and inventive ways to make your life better, happier and more fun. Glastonbury, for example.
I don’t at all buy into the line that it’s not as good as it used to be. If you’d gone to the original festival in 1970 you’d have seen T-Rex and been given free milk, but the sound system would have been utter shite, the sanitation worse than basic, the gastronomy rudimentary and the range of entertainment limited to whichever second-rate artiste was playing on the only stage.
Today, on the other hand, the freedom of choice offered by Glastonbury is almost limitless: heavy metal; folk; dubstep; lobster; dal; woodfired pizza; luxury teepees; leaky tents; posh flushing loos; flyblown long drops; whatever turns you on, baby.
4. Skrillex: AWESOME.
When I tweeted this – and I meant it: Skrillex was right up there with the best electronic acts I’ve seen in 24 years’ worth of Glastonburies – some fatuous leftard tweeted:
Thing is, festival goers would have been anathema to Delingpole pre-1990s; eco types etc. Nobs like him now
Oh the arrogance and self-delusion and intolerance of the left!
They really do imagine that festivals ought to be the preserve of people only like them. Well, I’ve got some news for you, matey. All that renewable energy/trade justice/sustainability/viva socialism stuff you see everywhere at Glastonbury: for most of us festivalgoers it’s just random window dressing.
We’re there for the sex, drugs and rock n roll not the tedious politics. And the fact that you wouldn’t know who Skrillex was if he came and bit you on the bottom is very much your problem, not ours.
5. Metallica rock.
No really. Metallica are none more rock: their glorious headline set at Glastonbury will have won them many, MANY more fans even though most of the people watching them won’t have recognised a single track apart from maybe Enter Sandman and Nothing Else Matters. Of course, in the world of Mister Leftard – see 4. – they ought never to have been allowed into Glastonbury in the first place.
Why? Because James Hetfield their lead singer goes bear hunting – something which the band celebrated in this rather odd (if you like bear-hunting what’s your objection to fox-hunting?), specially commissioned short film Glastallica from Julien Temple they played before their set.