I bet I know the solution.

Traffic counts have been taking place at a busy retail park in Kent which is regularly gridlocked with shoppers.

The work has been focused on key junctions on the North Farm industrial estate, near Tunbridge Wells.

It is part of the North Farm Traffic Study, which is due to be completed by June when recommendations for solutions will be presented to council officials.

Traders have been calling for urgent action to ease traffic congestion amid fears customers are being driven away.

They say problems have escalated since John Lewis and Marks & Spencer opened flagship stores on the estate before Christmas.

What is the problem here, really? We can see that the local residents aren't mentioned here, so they are probably understanding that this retail park is providing jobs at a time when one isn't exactly falling over vacancies. Either that, or the council just don't regard their opinions as being important. Probably a good portion of both.

At a time when the economy is on its arse, we mustn't mistake the cries from the traders that there are too many people coming into the estate, their concern is that it is too difficult for customers to get on site, so they may not bother trying.

I have a feeling that the council will see the problem as being too many people are trying to get in. Calls to ease congestion would, in a sensible world, result in works to improve access and flow by increasing capacity on the roads and/or by introducing a park and ride scheme that is cheap, or even free and sponsored; it is in the interests of the business on site, after all. Thereby encouraging people to come, spend their money and ensure that a local success story continues.

But let us not forget that this is the country where this happens:

Why do I have a funny feeling that the solution will be the introduction or ramping up of parking charges, the construction of traffic calming measures and other things that make people want to stay away, rather than make it easier for people to get in?

The One That Wishes They Would Mind Their Own Business. . .

At the end of my road is an old fashioned greengrocer's shop. If this were an Enid Blyton story it would be run by a cheery, ruddy-faced old man in glasses with a big green apron. But this isn't an Enid Blyton storybook, it's 21st century Britain.

This means that my greengrocer's is run by a Bangladeshi couple. These Bangladeshis are people we want in this country. They are hard working, considerate and very pleasant people. Their shop opens at 8 (at the latest) and closes at 7 (at the earliest), their stock is fresh and (excluding the ingredients used in their ethnically specific cuisine) locally sourced. It is fairly priced and I know that when I go there I will get a friendly reception and will walk out with exactly what I want. My life is infinitely better for having this shop at the end of my road, especially since they started selling cigarettes.

Next to the greengrocers is a newsagent. This is run by a national chain and is staffed by a seemingly perpetual rotation of disinterested, rude, ignorant white school leavers who I doubt can spell their own names.

The difference between the two shops is remarkable. The newsagents are more expensive. The newsagents will open at 8ish (at the earliest) and will close at 5.30ish (at the very latest). There are no smiles, no good mornings, just a vacant stare and a 'what'? Lord knows how much stock they lose as you often have to shout in the direction of the door to the stock room to get the shuffling idiot out to serve you. You could walk out with £100's in stock, they wouldn't notice, nor I suspect care. I'm especially pleased that the greengrocer has started selling cigarettes as they are 10p a packet cheaper, and don't use a till with a CCTV camera attached which shows you it taking a still photo of you buying any age restricted item, this is probably then stored on the till's hard disk to be uploaded to some gummint website showing social undesirables. Doubtless it's for my security, but I don't like it, so now the only thing I bought in there is sold cheaper elsewhere, I don't go in there any more.

Strange, isn't it? I speak the same language as the people in my newsagents (the couple at the greengrocer are 1st generation, they speak English, but you have to listen hard and concentrate) and have more in common with them culturally than the Bangladeshis. Yet, because of the sort of people they are and their work ethic and business manner, I'd much rather put my money in the Bangladeshi till.

This is not some ringing endorsement of muli-culturalism. This isn't me proclaiming to the world that I am a glorious non-racist. Multi-culturalism is bunk, as the Levellers sang, there's only one way of life, and that's your own. Someone's skin colour and religion is as important to me as their eye colour or choice of footwear. Not hurting anyone? Carry on.

It's great here, it's like living in a little village where everyone helps out and looks out for each other and not a government advisor or leafelet in sight.

My community likes the Bangladeshis. The psychiatrist that lives next door to me uses them, as do the Brazilians that live on the other side. The Bangladeshis will go over the road to the chip shop run by the Greeks to get change, and the Greeks will go to the barbers run by the Iraqi Kurds to get their hair cut, the Iraqi Kurds will go the white butcher who orders in halal meat for them and others like them. Does the butcher do this because it is the nice multi-cultural thing to do? No. He does it because there is a gap in the market and he can make money out of it.

The Righteous would probably be up in arms, the nasty white man exploiting the religious sensibilities of the Muslims to make money. But the butcher isn't the villain of the day. There's worse, there's much, much worse.

It's the Bangladeshis.

They've come into this country and have neither sought nor taken any help from the State and their righteous minions. These graceless newcomers have set up business, learned the language, inserted themselves right in the middle of the community all by themselves. And they regularly lambast this government and local council.

Not only that, but now they want to do more. They want to expand, they want to make more money. This isn't supposed to be how it works. They are supposed to be pathetically grateful for the things that are given to them. They are supposed to do as they are told. Well, there's a storm on the horizon.

You see, the greengrocer's sits on the corner of my road and the bottom of the high street of this fair city. The main train station lies a 3 minute walk from the door of their shop and to get from the station to the centre of town you must walk right past them. So they came up with this wizard idea. From 8-9 they would make and sell takeaway hot breakfasts for the workers walking past their door to work. From 1-2 they would make and sell takeaway hot lunches for the workers and residents nearby. From 5-6 they would make and sell takeaway hot dinners for the workers going back to the train station to take home. Three hour long sessions of doling out hot, healthy, nutritious, locally sourced, cheap food (and given the aroma coming from the food that Mrs. Greengrocer eats, it would taste bloody fantastic) all made with produce they sell in their shop.

Mr Greengrocer had negotiated terms with the butcher to supply the chicken and lamb, he had made sure the kitchen in the back of his little shop came up to scratch, he and his wife had attended the evening courses, after the shop had been open all day, 7 days a week, to get their food handling certificates. He thought it odd that he had to go to the council and ask permission to sell this food. He understood about having to comply with food safety and kitchen cleanliness standards, but to go and ask for permission to sell stuff? Like he says: "S'my blinking bizzniss. What does counzil man know of bizzniss?"

The council, of course, have refused permission for this venture. Their policy on takeaways round my part of town are clear. There is already a kebab shop, a Chinese and a chippy that cater for the late diner. They don't want anymore hotspots of people hanging around late at night.

Mr. Greengrocer points out that they close at 7 and he isn't going be open at 2am, he has to get up at 5am to sort his stock and shop out, have his own breakfast, do his paperwork, pay his taxes, get his kids ready and off to school. He isn't interested in the lager brigade stumbling over his mushrooms and mangoes on their way back from the clubs.

It is irrelevant. Council guidelines equate takeaway food with rowdy pissheads, flashing neon signs and a sea of discarded poly food trays. There is no room in the rules to distinguish. There is no will to change the rules.

Mr. Greengrocer points out that a new Chinese has opened across the road from him recently. They got permission. He asked them how. They told him. They made four applications, and made four appeals. That cost them £9000 before they even opened for business.

Mr. Greengrocer is not a fool, he's joined the dots. "Counzil just want my money." It's not about the drunkards. It's not about the mess. It's not about the neon. It is about these unelected grey council mongtards showing you that they are in charge. It is absolutely about taking as much of your cash as possible.

Mr. Greengrocer has realised what 21st century Britain is all about. It can be summed up thus: Be thankful for what you have. Be more thankful that we don't come and take it all from you.

Mr. Greengrocer says that in Bangladesh you'd just bribe them. In the UK you pay a £2000 bribe up front, they even give you a receipt, then they still don't let you do it.

Mr. Greengrocer knows bad business when he sees it.

The One That Wants You To Confess. . .

Go on.

Leave a confession in the comments.

You're guilty of something. You must be. We all are.

There's so much to be guilty of.

Did you know that your local council can and will fine you for feeding the ducks?

A mother out feeding the ducks with her young son was given an on-the-spot fine by a park warden.

Vanessa Kelly was in Smethwick Hall Park, in Smethwick, West Midlands, when she was approached by the warden and given a £75 fine for littering.

Well, they can. Not exactly feeding the ducks, but for littering. The fact that the ducks eat your 'litter' before it hits the ground is neither here nor there.

Now, here's a telling line.

The warden then told Ms Kelly her son could continue to feed the ducks as he was too young to be fined.

So, it's only an offence if you're old enough to have money taken off you. Once you have cash, then you're fair game. You can afford to give bread to waterfowl, madam? Well we'll have to take some of your cash in that case.

Give me strength.

Sandwell Council defended the fine, saying Ms Kelly was not in a designated feeding area.

A what? A designated feeding area?

So not only did she litter, she didn't seek permission from her all powerful, wise and mighty local authority. How dare she? Who the hell does she think she is? You can't just go and feed ducks, not without consent (the ducks can't give consent), suppose she fed them something unsuitable? Suppose these ducks have a wheat intolerance? They'd spend the rest of the day being all grumpy. She should be arrested for animal cruelty. She must have been near water, (that much is certain, she wasn't in a designated feeding area, this is a council, by the way, so there's no way that a 'designated feeding area' is going to be anywhere near a pond, canal or river) and put her child in mortal danger. The council should take her child off her, for its own good.

Right let's see which self-important, righteous complete pissing fuck-nugget is stupid enough to demonstrate what a thoughtless, socially-retarded cuntwaft he is by defending this.

Councillor Mahboob Hussain, the council's member for neighbourhoods and housing. . .

Hello Councillor Manboobs! You sir are a self-important, righteous, pissing fuck-nugget and a thoughtless, socially-retarded cuntwaft.

. . . said there had been so many complaints about the feeding of pigeons and waterfowl, a designated area had been created for feeding them.

He added the council had done a lot of work to warn people the designated space should be used.

And these people don't work for free, and God knows we've got to get the money from somewhere, so this bint will do. My expense money doesn't grow on trees, you know.

Actually, I made that last bit up.

"This park has a major problem with Canada geese and people living nearby have made complaints about them," he said.

"They feel intimidated by the large numbers of geese.

It's winter. Geese come to the UK in winter. Whilst it is cold in the winter in the UK, it isn't as cold as it gets in the arctic circle in winter, which is where these birds live in the summer. They've migrated here since before Smethwick existed, I don't think some woman and her toddler are a big pull factor here.

"We are taking this problem seriously and we are acting upon these complaints."

A damn site more seriously than I can take you, Manboobs, that's for sure.

The penalty notice would be reduced to £50 if paid within 10 days, he added.

Oh well that's fine then. They take an eminently sensible law about littering, completely skew the spirit of that law, and then empower an unaccountable pseudo-plod to take £75 off someone for no reason than he can. But it's OK, cause they'll knock £25 off if you pay up like a good little prole.

Ms Kelly has not yet paid the fine and said she planned to contest it

Good for her. Although going to the press probably wasn't the best idea. My tack would be 'prove it'. Even if they've got it on CCTV, councils are notorious for not abiding by rules on disclosure, if that were the case, I'd be going for abuse of process and getting the judge to throw it out.

The One That Doesn't Think We're That Powerful . . .

Interesting to read that pretty much the entire compliment of Somerton Town Council quit on Tuesday, sparking a round of fresh elections for the town.

What caused this?

Well, according to Al-Jabeeba, it was the Muck & Brass blog, written by Niall Connolly.

Now, I'm no expert on what is going on at Somerton Town Council (in fact I had to Google where Somerton was) but can one blogger really bring down an entire town council? Even if he had some really explosive information and managed to grab a scalp, Guido style, then one would expect one or two councillors at the most to fall on their swords, but to take down a whole council? Bloody hell, I'm impressed.

How did he do this?

In one entry, he writes that a council pamphlet entitled 'Good Citizens' and regarding voting rights "reads more like a Nazi call to arms or an invitation to ethnic cleansing."

In another, he complains "clown" councillors have ignored democracy and behave as though they had "only just discovered the word".

He goes on: "And now, as Somerton starts to find a voice, you bunch of jackasses start to whisper the 'D' word."

Well, it isn't exactly Watergate, is it?

In response to the resignations, businessman Mr Canvin, 61, said: "I'm not going to tolerate it when I'm working for the town.

"I started it. I said 'I've had enough' and handed in my resignation."

A motion was then proposed that members leave due to "impossible working conditions", leading to 11 resignations with another walking out in sympathy, and one more on holiday.

Well, that all seems a little precious to me. There's something more than meets the eye going on there, and I can't believe that one blogger having a pop can yield such results.

However, just to be on the safe side, perhaps Mr. Connolly would like to turn his attentions to Westminster? If he carries on this run of form then it won't just be the good townspeople of Somerton.

'this stunning news was greeted by the audience with rapturous applause.'

It can be the whole country.

More power to you, Niall. Just don't get too good, otherwise we'll all be subject to regulation before you can blink.

The One That Warns Your Wall Does Not Belong To You. . .

I like Banksy, I find him whimsical, entertaining and sometimes downright funny. I'd be delighted to wake up one morning to find he'd gone to work on my wall.

Councils don't like Banksy. He's into graffiti and is bad. His vandalism must be eradicated.

A mural by graffiti artist Banksy, which once featured on the cover of a single by rock band Blur, has been painted over by Hackney Council.

The spoof image of the Royal Family, painted on the side of a building in Stoke Newington, east London, was partially covered with black paint.

But then, if it is their wall, then that's up to them.

The building's owner was in tears as she begged workmen to stop. By the time she persuaded them it was almost gone.

The building's owner? Hang on, what's going on here?

Property owner Sofie Attrill gave consent for the mural to be painted on the building so it could be photographed for the launch of Blur's 2003 single Crazy Beat.

So why were the council of all people painting over it?

Hackney Council needed permission to remove the mural because it was on private property.

But its letters were sent to an address Ms Attrill lived at 25 years ago.

After receiving no response the council served an enforcement notice.

So they needed permission to do it, and when that permission wasn't forthcoming, they went ahead and did it anyway.

Hackney Council was initially unrepentant.

Well, there's a surprise.

Cllr Alan Liang said: "The council's position is not to make a judgement call on whether graffiti is art."

But he later added: "Due to a problem at the land registry unfortunately our letters stating our intention to clean this building didn't reach the owner.

It isn't your fucking building, so why the hell are you cleaning it? If I started slapping paint over a council owned wall, I would expect to have my collar felt for it. It is, after all, not my wall to paint.

And yet, Hackney Council seem to think they have the liberty to paint over any wall they damn well please. One rule for us. . .

I'd be suing the bastards for criminal damage, or getting the muppet in charge of whichever thick as pig shit department perpetrated this act of willful vandalism arrested for same, let's get his DNA and fingerprints recorded.

Fuckers.

The One That Is Reflecting. . .

As I posted earlier, not a great result. However all is not lost, and it would appear from this entry on the LPUK blog that we have picked up a ready-elected friend on a council.

I posted the following in the comments section, and reproduce it here as I was going to blog on this anyway, and don't see the point in writing it twice.

Twas always going to be a defeat, although I'm not going to pretend that 0.10% of the share doesn't sting a little.

However, at leat we had a crack and at least Tom had the cajones to stand up and do it. A few parties of similar size to us didn't give it a go.

Was Tom's age a factor? I'm afraid to say it probably was. It shouldn't have been, but this is politics. I wasn't exposed to any of the campaigning, but had I been up against us, the first thing I'd have done when asked about our policies would have been to gone, 'Libertarians? What, the 18 year old?' Harsh, but that's the way it works.

One of our greatest strengths; being untainted by the political class, is identitcal to one of our weaknesses, it means we have little experience in running an election campaign. It is only a lesson which can be learned with experience.

The news about a councillor resigning to join us is a very encouraging one, and perhaps give us an indicator of a strategy we should employ. (I'm assuming he's a councillor formerly with the Lib Dems rather than a former councillor who is leaving the Lib Dems - big difference).

I believe town, city and borough councils are the way to go early on, get good people good names on their own local streets. I would swap 1 MP for 10 Councillors in a heartbeat, as one councillor really can make a difference especially in a close NOC council, a councillor really can be accessible and really can generate a good rep for a party which would then be recognisable on a parliamentary ballot paper.

At the risk of labouring the point, I really do believe that the local level is the most important starting point, a good solid local level base is the foundation that a good MP is built upon. A good councillor will feed into the local MP so s/he really knows what is going on (that is of course on the understanding that a good councillor will actually give a shit what is going on on his/her patch) in their constituency. Strong, local and accountable representation is the best way to emasculate that palace of piggies sat on the Thames.

The One That Thinks That's A Really Good Idea . . .

One of the more easily indentifiable indicators of a recession is that businesses close down. That may come as a shock to you. We've seen Woolworths, MFI, Adams, Xavvi, Whittards and a number of other shops close for business, and it happened without the government pouring billions of pounds of our money into them.

It is a shame, but that's the world. Everything must come to an end, and for whatever reason these retailers have run their course. There is an opportunity here to turn this into a positive result. For years now we've been hearing about the indenti-kit High Street, from Perth to Penzance every High Street in the country is a carbon copy of the other, although rather than indentical shops selling identical goods, they're now indentical plateglass windows pasted with indentical whitewash.

I'd like to see some incentive for independent retailers to go in and take these premises on, a tax break or somesuch. Nobody likes to see shops empty and with their windows whitened out, and giving a local indie the chance to go in and get a crack of the whip, I think, just adds a bit of character to the High Street, and makes it a more interesting place to be.

Whilst I'd like to see the locals given a chance to regenerate their own local economy, give some training and skills to local workers with the proper chance to learn how to run a business, rather than relying on head office to do it all, what I don't want is for these local indies to be beholden to the local authorities. A new business is like a new fire, you need to start off with delicate twigs and leaves to get it going, chuck bloody great logs on it from the get-go and you'll just snuff the flame out. Unfortunately the public sector doesn't do delicate and subtle, it would only offer help with huge the logs of conditions regarding diversity training, targets, inspections and mountains of paperwork. They wouldn't stand a chance.

So, local authorities won't be doing anything to help get the money flowing around the High Street. Indeed the Local Government Association (I can feel the veins sticking out on my head already) has decided to do just the opposite, Al-Beeb reports that:

It is calling for new powers to allow town halls to temporarily use shops as sites for community projects.

Councils fear the derelict buildings could become hotspots for anti-social behaviour and cause further decline.

Oh, Jesus, here we go. . .

The LGA wants to make it easier and cheaper to use the premises for libraries, youth clubs, training centres and bring-and-buy sales.

Give me strength.

Bring and fucking buy sales? That'll have people tearing down the street, won't it? For crying out loud, what is wrong with these idiots? So you're going to spend huge amounts of taxpayers money to rent these premises, pay people to stand around in them and to go on community inclusion social diversity outreach courses, to be glorified open day exhibition stands.

Libraries? What? Do you not already have libraries? Or did you close it? And why did you close it? Because no-one was going in there. (Why that is, is a different story altogether)

Youth Clubs? Leave that to the communities, to the parents. On the High Street? You must be bloody barking. Then to train all the new people in child protection and blah blah blah, and then youth club kicks out at 8pm on a Friday night and it's on the Hight Street, next to the Yates' Wine Lodge? C'mon can't you see what is going to happen?

Training centres? What the fuck is a training centre? Oh, you mean like a school or college? Well surely you've already got them? Why do you need to open a centre to train people when they've already been to school and/or college? Is it because they don't learn anything of any bloody value whilst they're in there? So we have some nightmarish version of a training centre run by people like Pauline and her bloody pens from League of Gentlemen.

All that money spent and no tangible or economic benefit to the community at all. Still people persist in the opinion that Government has all the answers. They don't, it isn't a magic wand. Government cannot take over the personalities of those who work there. They are just as clueless, lazy and an incompetent as you and me, these qualities do not get magically washed away when they walk into the civic centre. Don't give me all that guff about excellence and blah blah blah, if they were that good, they'd be running a flourishing business, not opening bloody training centres telling people how to do it.

The One That Is Talking About Rubbish. . .

How Snowolf Lane will look later today.

Tuesday.

Bin night on Snowolf Lane. At some point today two or three rubbish bags will magically appear on my street. It happens every fortnight for the bin collection. Rubbish bags left outside bins will not be collected (unless they are in special purple bags which can only be bought from the council at a cost of about £100 per bag), they will have a jaunty little yellow tag attached which reads 'Sorry! We cannot take this bag.'

Surprisingly this doesn't make the bags disappear, they are just left on the pavement for seagulls, rats and feral children to pick through. I also think the note should read 'Hey Prole, we're not going to take this bag as you've not complied with our very important rules.'

I've been getting a bit pissed off with this whole bag situation, so a fortnight ago I called the council about it. I should have known better. What I expected was for them to send a little man around in a little van who would spirit it away. What happened was a little man was sent around in a little van who knocked on my door and asked to be directed to the offending items.

It seemed obvious to me that he hadn't been on the local council 'recognising bin bags with little yellow tags sat on the pavement two days after the collection' course. So I showed him. He then produced some gloves and rummaged through the bags to see if he could find information relating to the dumper contained within. He couldn't. He resealed the bags and then said to me that they would have to be removed from the pavement.

I thought it meant HE was going to remove them. It didn't. He was suggesting I did it. I asked him why he wouldn't. He replied they could have hazardous waste in them.

Could have? Doesn't he know? Is his memory that short? He'd just bloody looked through them. I replied in the only language these people understand. 'I am not capable of recognising hazardous wate, nor have I been on an accredited lifting course. If I should suffer an injury moving these bags, my next action would be to take legal action against the council whom I would hold liable for damages.'

He humphed and went away. An hour or so later, another little man in a little van turned up, picked up the bags, put them in his little van and went away.

I'll point out the obvious here.

2008 - Three visits by the council or their sub-contractors finally removed the rubbish. This at a time when local authority budgets are apparently under pressure. No wonder.

1998 - Some burly blokes in a dustcart would come round, either pick up the bins and put them on their loader or empty them manually, and then pick up the bags on the pavement and chuck them in the back.

This is not progress. This is idiotarianism in action.