Monday, 23 July 2012

New Dawn

The day breaks oe'r yonder hill and I must make haste and be about the daily grind.

This distant view of our absurd little town from my humble abode, an outsiders view if you like, only serves to clarify and magnify its faults and foibles. It's a town of taxi driver mentality, ruled over and shat upon by the old order of puffed up nepotists for whom change is anathema; reported upon and held to account by no-one.
Williams, Bateman, Skidmore, Horton, Hawke et al have stood in the path of progress for so long that we have become blind to it, and now the inertia, the acceptance of status quo, has insinuated itself into all aspects of political and commercial life. Even the silly, timid shopkeepers are afraid to attempt anything that hasn't been tried and failed before.
It may be that the ills that afflict this little town are simply a reflection of the greater ills that dog the country as a whole, but is that a reason to continue stumbling drunkenly down a blind alley?
We must get rid of the old order before anything can move forward. They have the gaul to continue to put themselves up for election so vote the buggers out at the earliest opportunity - we will all be the better for it.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

nice van harb

Lavinia Bunford said...

I did once suggest 'Ripon - Stay a While Amid Its Inert Charms' as a tourist-enticing sign but was ignored, as ever. These boys who run the place now are no better than those who allowed it to slip into decrepitude before them. I have been a prophet unheard in my own town for decades.
Talking of things being tried and failed, I allowed my late husband to purchase us a similar caravan in the 1960s. We used to help a friend, Archie 'Muff' Phelps to race his Jag down the Harrogate Road by blocking the road with the caravan so he could get a clear run.
Actually, it may well have been the same one. Look under the bench beneath the rear window. If there is a copy of 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' there, then it is quite likely to be mine. I recommend page 74.

Harbinger said...

Dear Lavinia, Thank you for your comment and the amusing anecdote contained therein. How strange that you should know 'Muff', he was a pal of my late father - they were in 'Spits' together during the last major unpleasantness.
I'm afraid there's no chance of recovering your Lawrence as I had all the original fittings removed when I had the caravan interior converted into a replica Badawi tent. Incidentally the box under my feet in the photo contains sand collected from the Sahara and Negev.