“From the beginning on, newspapers have prospered for one reason: giving readers the news that they want.”
Rupert Murdoch
A brief one this week as I separated out my latest rant at the social engineers and do-gooders screwing up the game of cricket for all concerned. You can find that one here.
Only three more weeks till old Rupey has to contend with a new kid on the block and as deadline day approaches, Idle and Thackley residents salivate at the prospect of their new magazine.
The Dead Tree Press team met last week for a pre-publication meeting. I can promise you prospective advertisers there were no skinny lattes, croissants or expensive PR teams in attendance.
It will be just us and you trying to provide something the area can be proud of.
Here Comes The Sun
I tried to warn my Kiwi guest what would happen when the sun eventually shone. Back from a shift at the local pub he looked ashen.
“Mate, I’ve not seen as many fat red bellies since the pork factory in Hamilton!” he confessed bewildered at the average British male’s compulsion to tear his shirt off, belly permitting, as soon as the temperature hits fifteen celsius.
Patiently I tried to explain the mind altering properties of this rare phenomenon coupled with a gallon of lager. He now fully understands why most of us don’t mind the odd cloudy day.
One Hundred Years Ago
A look back here to what austerity really meant.
…for most of the time, this was a period of austerity with people grappling with rationing and food shortages while economies meant the local baths were closed for three days a week to save money and people were urged to collect scraps of wool off fences and hedges to help local manufacturers.
Local Elections – A Tale Of Two Cities
Did you vote? I did but vanished behind the screen singing “Eeny, meeny, miny moe” at the hopeless task of finding anybody worth voting for.
I will confess: I would not vote Labour if Cllr Hapless offered me the freedom of Idle. And I am no more Liberal than I am transgender.
However, given Conservative high office has abandoned Bradford to the postal vote, I had to grit my teeth and place a cross to keep the useless Liberals in power rather than suffer another useless Labour wannabe.
The pencil nearly broke under the weight of my conscience, tears almost smudged my ballot paper, wails of despair audible to the polling officers crept from beyond the screen of futility.
I awoke to discover that pragmatism had won the day albeit shoring up Cllr Glum, leader of the Lib Dems, ensuring more gloomy photos in the T&A and Lib Dem hand-wringing.
Across in Eccleshill, turkeys continued to vote for Christmas and a worthy Independent was smashed by a combination of electoral ignorance and apathy. The party machines won the day again meaning bugger all will change.
Finally, take a look at the results that demonstrate this city of ours really is a divided district.
Picture Of The Week
Strolling around the ground with Villas pin up Louis “Guns” Brown, former great Martin “Portly” Patchett was engaged in deep conversation.
“Good start to the summer young man!” said our local dental tycoon. “If ever you want a set of shiny Hollywoods to go with those guns just let me know.”
Our opening bowler looked quizzically at the portly little man who had been following him around the ground for several laps now.
“Did you used to play?” enquired Guns to a staggered gasp from Portly. Quick as a flash he got his mobile phone out and thrust it in the face of young Guns.
“Have you seen them stats lad?” he blurted, cheeks redder by the minute. “Play? I’ve bowled them all out!”
True enough there he was sat proudly in the Villas record books with other great trundlers of a bygone age. The young man was taken aback, adjusted his pair of Gucci’s and looked down on Portly, still snapping at his heels.
“****ing autograph hunters” he whispered silently under his breath.
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