In a display of diplomatic vigour that would make Lord Nelson blush, Britain has taken the lead in global condemnation of a geological event that has had the audacity to occur in Venezuela. Yes, a mere tremor, a shudder of the earth’s crust, has been met with the full force of His Majesty’s Government’s disapproval. Foreign Secretary James Cleverly, emerging from a Whitehall bunker with the urgency of a man who has just discovered his gin supply is running low, declared that ‘this seismic activity is utterly unacceptable and must cease immediately.’
One can only imagine the stern note being drafted to the tectonic plates: ‘We view with grave concern your unilateral shifting beneath Venezuelan soil. We call for an immediate cessation of all seismic hostilities and a return to the status quo ante quake.’ The UN Security Council has been convened, though it remains unclear whether the Richter scale has a seat at the table.
The quake, registering a magnitude that geologists describe as ‘quite big, actually,’ has rattled Caracas and sent tremors of fear through the international community. Or at least through the parts of the community that still care about Venezuela, which are mostly limited to a few think tanks and the occasional nostalgic revolutionary. Britain, ever the global policeman, has dispatched a flotilla of naval vessels to ‘observe’ the situation, though they are likely just observing the quality of Venezuelan rum from a safe distance.
Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer, not to be outdone, demanded a parliamentary inquiry into why the Tories have allowed earthquakes to happen on their watch. ‘This is a clear failure of government policy,’ he thundered, presumably while consulting a map to locate Venezuela. Meanwhile, the Venezuelan government, led by Nicolás Maduro, accused the CIA of causing the quake with a secret weather-control machine. ‘They are shaking our country to destabilise our socialist paradise!’ he ranted, as his supporters dutifully shook their fists at the sky.
The real tragedy, however, is the disruption to global oil supplies. Brent crude spiked three dollars on the news, causing panic among hedge fund managers who now must recalculate their bonuses. The governor of the Bank of England appeared on television looking grave, hinting that interest rates might rise faster than the rubble in Caracas. ‘We must protect the pound from geological volatility,’ he intoned, as if the earth’s crust were a currency speculator.
In the midst of this absurd theatre, let us not forget the actual Venezuelans, who are now dealing with collapsed buildings, power outages, and the unsettling realisation that their government is more interested in conspiracy theories than relief efforts. But hey, at least Britain is condemning things. That’s what we do best. We condemn earthquakes, condemn hurricanes, condemn solar flares. We even condemned the Covid-19 virus, which promptly apologised and retreated to Wuhan.
So here’s to you, Britain. The world’s foremost authority on voicing displeasure at natural phenomena. Your righteous indignation is a beacon of hope in a world where tectonic plates do not respect international law. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a stiff drink. Preferably one that hasn’t been shaken by the earth itself.
