Tuesday, 6 May 2008

Well that didn't last long, did it?

The sight of Harriet Harman as the BBC's Election Night coverage went to air put me in mind of the condemned before they were walked to the gallows. The immense discomfort of the Labourites as the evening went on, and the following day, was a delicacy worthy of two Michelin stars.

'Disappointing' said Gordon. No, Gordon. Disappointing is getting two numbers in the National Lottery, or opening your Sunday paper to discover the complimentary CD has been swiped by the paper boy. (Actually, given the toss that they put out for free, it's probably a blessing in disguise.) I think what you were looking for was 'a catastrophe of arse clenchingly awful proportions.' And that was before Boris unseated the Thane of the Thames.

The message was; 'We'll listen to the voters, reflect and change.' Now I've translated that to mean 'We've never listened to you bunch of bastards and we're not about to start now, we'll do nothing for a bit, and then carry on like nothing has happened.' The problem being of course that this bunch of self-righteous arse-clowns are incapable of leaving alone and doing nothing.

So how has Spongebrain Fudgepants, as my friend Mac the Knife refers to Pa Broon, shown that he is listening? Simple, he's ressurecting a news story from last week that shows his mania for controlling every aspect of everbody's life. Remember the story about the guy who recently got a criminal record, not for saying 'Boo!' to a PCSO, or having a scrap in the street, or driving someone else's car around at great speed, or planting tons of high explosive in the cellars of Parliament, but for the heinous and detestable crime of having the lid of his wheelie bin slightly ajar? Yes? I thought so too, crucifixion is too good for some bastards.

Well for some reason the media thought that his fine was a really bad thing. What a bunch of sickos! Well, Ol' Gordie ain't gonna stand for that, oh no. This is new Gordie, he means business. He's made a decision. He'll probably change it next week, but he's made a decision for now, oh yes. You thought it had been consigned to the dustbin of history, but no, pay as you throw is back! Yes! Now the local councils who are already responsible for the parking fines and the smoking ban will take on more responsibility. Expect a microchip on your bin any day now as your bin is weighed on your bi-annual collection day.

Let us set aside the fact that it is a really stupid idea, unless a pay as you throw scheme means the refuse collection part of your council tax is repaid or remains uncollected. Let us set aside that it is yet another cynical ploy for squeezing money out of us on the pretext of ecological wossname. Firstly, it's MY bin, I paid for it and have the receipt to prove it, any wanker putting a chip on my bin is going to be hit with a criminal damage charge. Secondly, my bin is going in my back garden and never coming out, because every bugger is going to put their rubbish in my bin, just as I'm going to do it to everyone else. My local council puts yellow stickers on bin bags left on the pavement out of bins that read 'Sorry, we cannot collect this bag.' I'm often tempted to ask the council if the dustmen are unable to pick the bags up, (our recycling is collected off the street in specially provided transparent bin bags) or just unwilling?

Everyone will just leave their rubbish on the street, in bags, with yellow stickers. In the end it'll start to stink and the seagulls and rats and foxes will get stuck in, and before you know it Canterbury looks like Naples. But this presents a public health risk. Our council is obliged to take action. So what will happen is, they'll send a dustcart round and the binmen will pick the bags up and throw them in the back. Say, that sounds a pretty neat way of collecting rubbish, why hasn't anyone thought of that? Oh they have, but it was scrapped, because the fuckers just cannot leave things alone.

Why the hell is a Prime Minister getting involved with fucking rubbish collections? Could it possibly be that he has been so obsessed with the idea of being PM (nice hospital pass by the way, Tony) that now he's got there, he's discovered that he hasn't a clue what to do with it? Is this the problem when power becomes an end rather than a means? Is it because he is surrounded by a bunch of such lackwit mouth breathers that he can't trust them to even sort out bin day? Or is it because that whilst they are indeed lackwit mouth breathers, they are capable of organising bin day, but he doesn't want them to, because he wants to be in control so much that it actually hurts?

I'll go for all three.

Right, I'm off to put me recycling in me wheelie bin and me general waste in transparent sacks to leave out on the pavement. Do you think they'll notice? Hell, I work in the public sector, if they feel like me, they won't give a fuck.

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