The source of disunity among the Sisterhood at the last Coven meeting was concerning Climate Change, as hinted at in my last post. Miss Amanda, the Witch with a Crusading Spirit , was so concerned about Climate Change that she changed her turbo charged broom for an electric model. In her capacity as journalist for the Witchy Times she came to the latest coven meeting with her research and ready to try and persuade the sisterhood to make their practice carbon neutral. “It’s the least we can do ladies, the world’s on fire and we must play our part.”
“That’s easy for you to say Amanda, you are a journalist and your livelihood is not being threatened. They are talking about culling the National herd not the National Union of Journalists.
Culling the National herd will be the ruination of lots of farmers, it won’t be a victimless operation< you know,” said Miss Louise a dairy farmer.
“What’s this, what’s this,” said old Miss Muriel, who was a little hard of hearing. “We have a National herd? I thought the farmers owned the cows, do you mean to say that actually we own them?”
“No dear, it’s not quite like that,” Miss Amanda chipped it. “The farmers own the cows but the Green Party got 5% of the vote at the last election so they must have a say in how many cows are allowed to live here.”
“I just don’t understand, we own 65% of AIB and we are told we can’t have any say in how the banks run their business yet politicians with a 5% stake can decide on the operation of a business we don’t own at all?”said Miss Muriel.
“Yes, Muriel, it is mystifying, but no doubt the Journalists will explain that one to us, won’t they, Amanda?”
“That’s completely different, Louise, the world is burning, Climate Change is an existential crisis, we are out of time, we must…”
“Yes, yes, we must do it now, I’ve heard that mantra over and over but our main industries are agriculture, pharmaceuticals and data centres. The data centres contribute nothing to the national purse, the multinationals can leave anytime. Dealing a mortal blow to the one sector that can be relied on to stay and deliver doesn’t strike me as too smart.”
Miss Amanda felt that anger from Miss Louise like a knife through her chest. She knew that discretion was the better part of valour so she thought she had better leave well enough alone and so decided to call it a night. She didn’t wait for the post- meeting hospitality but took herself off to her suburban hutch, to dream of another approach to wooing support for her Crusade. She knew this would be necessary if she wanted a career as a political advisor when her journalism days were done.