Back on the Farm
Farming methods have evolved over the years with some farmers coming to terms with farming practice being a possible pollutant of our pristine environment. I’ve been following with huge interest the government’s idea of a flatulence tax. I, of course, say this tongue in cheek.
The idea of thousands of bureaucrats running around counting sheep or cows’ emissions is too hilarious for words. But let’s say it does happen that every month, undercover flatulence officers speed down country roads, pop in for tea and scones with the local farmers, get out their highly technical gasometers and do their task. Will they measure purely by stock numbers, or could there be a gadget that measures output?
Maybe there’s special fodder for cattle, to reduce the amount of polluting gas that cattle produce, and they could then receive a rebate for good behaviour. Surely there’s an opportunity here for a budding entrepreneur to invent a process to harness all that energy. Maybe each cowshed could have a special gas tank installed. As the cows chew their cud and let down their milk, a hose from their derrieres could deliver this priceless energy to the storage tank. This energy could, in turn, power the milking machines—or the farmer’s TV, for that matter. Or it could be piped to Parliament for internal consumption—although I suspect they already have enough.
Whatever happens, this bizarre situation is supplying us all with a few laughs and for that I thank them all from the heart of my bottom. Sex education was in-your-face. I remember peeking around the corner of the cowshed one day to see the vet artificially inseminating a cow. His hand disappeared up to his armpit. I almost threw up. There’s already enough hot air down there.
Frances
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