A Noble Sacrifice

So, 'Call me Dave' Cameron is taking personal charge of the 'War on Weather' and has declared that he will do everything necessary to help those affected.  Whilst I'm sure that what he has in mind, bearing in mind his innate sense of superiority, is standing on the beach at Westward Ho! commanding the waves to go back, I'd like to suggest that human sacrifice might represent a more fruitful approach.  After all, in days of yore, it was believed that the gods could be appeased with such things.  Good harvests, in particular, could apparently be ensured by killing someone.  Indeed, at one time it was thought that, in particularly dire circumstances, it was the King himself who had to give up his life for the good of the community.  It's even been claimed that King William II didn't actually die in a New Forest hunting accident in 1100, but was ritually sacrificed by his nobles for this purpose.  Of course, as time went on, Kings made out sure that, for sacrificial purposes, they were represented by a proxy, who would die in their place, usually after being 'crowned'.

So, can we hope to see Dave offering himself up for sacrifice in an attempt to end the current weather 'crisis'?  I mean, we must surely have offended some deity or other to have incurred this seemingly unending series of severe storms, which are slowly but surely sinking the country?  Obviously, if I was in UKIP, I'd say it was gay marriage causing the problem, but if I was in UKIP I'd also be a moron.  Perhaps Dave should take the weather as a judgement on his government's record: destroying social services, cutting benefits, giving tax breaks to the rich and pissing on the NHS - what god wouldn't be offended by all that?  So, when can we hope to see Dave burned alive in a huge wicker man on the cliffs above Land's End?  After all, he is, as Prime Minister, effectively a proxy for the monarch, (most of whose powers are delegated to parliament, over which he presides), and he's always boasting of how he's distantly related to the Queen, which makes him sort of a real King in the sense of being of royal blood.  Even if torching te smug bastard doesn't stop the wind and rain, it will at least give the poor bastards in the West Country currently without electricity something to warm themselves by.  It would also make me laugh.  The only problem I can see is that the wicker man will probably be too waterlogged to catch fire...