Speaking with a colleague, I made a passing “you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall” reference to my attitude about those nervous nellies in the regulated-business world who are anxious – thanks to a ceaseless ad hominem campaign by the greens — about associating with or supporting policy types whose willingness to do what needs to be done saves their bacon.

He looked at me much as my dog does when I ask her a question. So, here’s my explanation, and feel free to refresh your memory – you can skip straight to 1:35 if you wish:

Son, we live in a world that creates wealth, and that prosperity has to be guarded by men with facts. Who’s gonna do it? You? You, Greenpeace? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for the planet, and you curse the march of progress. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Man, like every other species on this planet alters his environment which, while tragic to the overly sentimental, certainly saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like Medieval Climate Optimum, natural variability. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very greenhouse gases that I — and, well, mostly Nature — provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide them. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up your tent and move to those parts of the playing field that the Wallströms of the world aren’t trying to level! Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

Much better now. Of course, you could also just enjoy this guy’s take, or his.