Some rich men came and raped the land, Nobody caught ’em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus, people bought ’em
The Last Resort by The Eagles.
With a predictable inevitability the morons supposedly in charge of our City voted to flatten a noble old building their votes soothed doubtless by a few quid, never to be seen again, slipped into the Council’s coffers by the developers.
A quick recap…a tired old Northern settlement, down on it’s luck and run by a notorious bunch of buffoons, suddenly discovers it has gold in untouched green fields and beautiful old buildings all now waiting to be built on.
Prospectors come from far and wide to stake a claim as the buffoons revel in their new found popularity. A few noble citizens take up arms to defend their land but are seemingly no match for wads of cash agreed in darkened corridors…read on.
Having witnessed the senile old idiots that made this decision in situ – see A Morning At Muppet Hall – I am not surprised at all.
Detailed arguments were put forward to the assembled bunch of numb nuts by a committed member of the public taking time out of his professional working day with no personal aim other than to save the building.
Instead, Gregory Property Developments predictably won the day. This is from their website.
“Whilst we have remained active in the commercial property sector this is our first residential venture. We feel that the time is right to re-engage in the sector..” or in other words…
“We looked around for a Council dopey enough to let us earn a fortune and one that we could catch with their pants down”.
I cannot imagine this “development” will have Kevin slavering over it’s architectural merits.
The fact that the vote in favour of the wrecking balls was unanimous and instantaneous was most likely down to the fact that the bunch of old fools could sniff their free lunch. It went something like this.
“All those in favour?” asked Chairman Stooge.
“What’s he mean?” asked a drowsy doddery old Councillor Dopey.
“You’ve got to vote now, just shove yer ‘and up when I nudge you” said Councillor Belly Rumbling.
“What are we voting about?” asked Dopey “and where’s my favourite nurse?”
“Some old shambles they want to knock down” said Belly Rumbling.
“They don’t mean us do they? Is it lunchtime yet?”
And in a flash seven hands went up with four not having even uttered a word (nice work if you can get it) for the 34 minute hearing. In the length of time it takes to watch a soap, a beautiful building was condemned by a bunch of old fools.
These people should be pushing dominoes in a secure facility not making decisions that vandalise parts of a city going down the pan faster than most of you realise.
Finally, as if you needed further proof that the bunch at the Town Hall are a complete bunch of incompetents, apparently there were only 40 affordable homes built across the district last year.
The last word is left to the grandly titled Councillor Val Slater, executive member for housing at Bradford Council. “One of the worrying things for me is the lack of affordable housing being built.”
That’s because developers are walking all over you…doh!
Footnote
Local campaigner Michael De Greasley’s videos can be found on the following link – take a peek inside the house of horrors and wait for the cheeky bit at the end.
Katie’s Dead?
Skimmimg through the channels the other night I came across Emmerdale. As usual for Yorkshire’s version of Village Of The Dammed there was a funeral taking place; who could it be this time?
And then the hearse came into view with the floral tribute “Katie” draping the coffin. How could they take away man’s one and only reason for watching this tripe?
Junk Food Kids
The current series – some of which was shot in Leeds – does little to suggest that we are tackling the crippling disease of obesity amongst our young. It also demonstrates that there are some incredibly thick people.
You have to feel sorry for the kids. As one consultant suggested, he rarely saw a fat kid with thin parents.
We had 13 year-old Tallulah weighing in at 19st sat there at enormous tax payer expense as a consultant tried patiently to explain her predicament. Meanwhile all she could do was tap away at her mobile phone – I would have force fed it to her – without mayo!
Then we had another ridiculously named Tavia (why do these parents name their kids like household pets?) this time four years of age and unable to get into school clothes for kids twice her age.
Tears flowed as her giant mum wailed in the kitchen “…what can I do?” oblivious to the reality that weighing in herself close to Giant Haystacks might not be offering the best role model. Spending less on tattoos and more on decent food might be a start.
It’s tempting to think that this is insolvable because those to blame – parents – are simply too stupid.
So we need to start with the kids as soon as they enter some form of education and frighten the crap out of them with the life they will lead if they too become as fat and stupid as their parents.
It really is time for shock treatment along the lines of smoking campaigns because at future estimates running into billions, as a nation we simply cannot afford this.
Politicians should stop posturing about teaching primary school kids about sex and focus on the above. Otherwise, for many of them sex will be a mystery as will the location of their didgery-doos!
Simple
As the latest round of proposed cuts bites deeper into all corners of society, plans have emerged to withdraw the Council maintenance of local crown green bowls clubs saving a stated £50k.
According to the Airedale & Wharfedale Crown Green Bowling Association there are some 2,000 members who enjoy a valuable and wholly inclusive pastime.
This is good healthy outdoor exercise and presumably stops any of them becoming councillors which has to be a good thing.
They have suggested that a £25 per person levy per annum will cover this but the Council seems disinterested; surely they don’t want to build here as well? It is inevitable that we will all have to find ways of funding things we may have taken for granted for generations.
Local MP David Ward called the proposals a “false economy” claiming many clubs would not be able to afford the equipment needed. This is rubbish as there are numerous self-employed gardeners around these days that could do the job just as well.
Clubs could also aim higher; for a £5 a month levy – surely worth it – they could double and more the £50k maybe even purchasing kit on behalf of the society.
I have an easy suggestion though to save the £50k immediately. Get rid of something that costs the equivalent and is clearly utterly useless – take your pick from this list.
Simple…if you know what I mean!
Getting Old
How do you know when you are getting old? There are various signs of this and I had to conclude that opting to watch Countryfile ahead of afternoon delight last Sunday was perhaps one of these.
Still, we all live in hope for another showing of Ellie in the bath.
Politics Corner
New Labour have brought back Old Labour with fatty Two Jags brought out of retirement – unbelievably – for his command of social media, which poor old Red Ed seems to be struggling with.
In addition, with no hint of irony they want him to focus on climate change! Additional responsibilities are also expected to be extra-marital affairs and how to throw a solid right hook.
Meanwhile, across town for a short while George had competition at last. Parachuted in from that idyllic haven of democracy and fair play – Tower Hamlets – came Labour Councillor Amina Ali to contest Bradford West on behalf of Labour.
Having landed in Bradford at the weekend it took her two days to bugger off back to the Peoples Republic of Tower Hamlets having resigned. Surely Labour are not suggesting that Bradford does not have anybody on the Council worthy of the seat?
Dave?
Finally, across the sea perhaps the coolest man on the planet is Yanis Varoufakis, Greek Finance Minister and a lover of the casual approach. Over £300bn in debt and the man still dresses as if he were off to a club.
Hammer Time – Episode 3: An Away Day
We needed time away to get to know each other better and a quick hammering seemed most likely to break down any barriers. I packed my case, selected my tools and an assortment of instruments.
I knocked at the door, slightly nervous having not yet drilled on home turf let alone across the border on the dark side of West Yorkshire. Would this be the day I broke my duck?
She opened the door, looked me up and down – no cash was exchanged – and showed me to the living room. I was being made to do it over the fireplace, sheets spread like a autumn leaves on the floor.
I pounded mercilessly and, at last, in I with dived clouds of dust billowing in the air. Proudly, I hung my trophy, packed my warm tool away and slipped away for twenty winks in the chair…to dream of Ellie.
In My Day
Cricket is changing at the top level at a pace; unfortunately, administrators at the grass roots seem largely oblivious.
As Colin Graves takes his seat at Lords as Chairman of the ECB there are bold ideas being mooted including shortening both test matches and the current 50 over format of one day cricket to 40.
The worrying aspect of grassroots cricket is that administrators have the air of the band on the deck of the Titanic…and we know what happened to them.
Have a great weekend.
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