EARTH ANGEL AT CROOKBARROW FARM

Discovered Good Friday at Crookbarrow Farm, near M5 Junction 7. Crookbarrow Hill, which gives the farm its name, used to be the focus of local celebrations at Easter and Whitsuntide. Yesterday was also Earth Day.

Will Hutton & The Economics of Fairy Dust

Writing in The Observer  last Sunday, the former newspaper editor Will Hutton bemoaned the lack of any real content in the current British General Election campaign, and the fact that the euphemistically named government policy of “quantitative easing” – ie pumping £billions of public money to prop up the banking sector – was reinforcing structural problems in the UK economy: namely, the dependence of this on the financial and property sectors.

Commentators on the article – including this one – seemed to have found much to agree with. However, I have to take issue with Hutton’s assertion that the British have all been living on fairy dust – ie asset price inflation largely constructed on increasingly sophisticated financial systems, which also provided unprecedented levels of consumer credit – for the past 20 years.  For there is another dimension to “The State We’re In” – also the title of a book by Hutton published around the time of New Labour’s election in 1997. The other side of the story is, of course, the hard labour of people in low wage countries, notably – but not exclusively – China which has produced the cheap, but nevertheless high quality, consumer goods of which we in countries like Britain and the United States are so enamoured. I therefore find it strange that Mr Hutton, now identified with the UK-based Work Foundation, should have apparently overlooked the labours of these multitude of overseas workers in his article, given that their production has underpinned, more substantially than the speculators as it turns out, the long boom from early 1990s to the late noughties.

During this time, Britain has been living not so much on fairy dust – attractive although this analogy may be to one concerned with non-material realties – but on the hard labour, and to a significant extent the savings, of people living in less-developed countries. However, I would argue that this process has not delivered the advantages at home or abroad that are frequently advanced. We are all now aware that the kind of growth which the consumer revolution has brought to China poses not only grave environmental problems for the rest of the world, but has also suppressed, and in some cases destroyed, the development of industries in other countries, including our own. Moreover, there are an increasing number of people within China who would like to see their country take a different development path, which is less reliant upon Western consumers, and the economics of fairy dust.

Accused of assault by man with Rottweiler

Yes, it’s true, I’ve just been accused of assaulting a man (younger and stronger than myself !) with a Rottweiler. Needless to say I didn’t bite said individual, but tapped him on the shoulder as I thought he was becoming hysterical, and, worse, choking his actually rather nice dog ! Canine mismanagement really concerns me just now !

So what will the West Mercia Constabulary make of this one, I wonder, if the Rottweiler man has the police out to arrest me. Of course, I hope it doesn’t come to this. On the other hand, perhaps I should contact them with my concerns about the Rottweiler’s welfare. The problem is that we human animals aren’t always the best keepers of the other sort.

A Case of Identity Theft & False Address ?

Local police in Worcester are believed to be searching for an identity thief by the name of Mr Casper (or Kaspar). An encounter today may throw some light on his whereabouts.

Kaspar, a cat, was spotted illicitly entering a show-home after parading in front of Casper, a dog. The dog owner claims Kaspar has been named after Casper. Both creatures are foreign breeds.

One can only presume that Kaspar is looking for a new address, possibly a false one.

Tackling the Worcester Wimp Syndrome

A short while ago, at about 3pm this afternoon, I was walking along a busy (with pedestrians) Worcester city centre pavement when a gang of young male yobbos (can’t think of a better description) came hurtling towards me on bicycles (mainly of the small, silly kind apparently favoured by the Worcester youths of today). Needless to say, I was the only person to express any disapproval of this behaviour, which could have easily been the cause of a serious accident, nor, in doing so, did I receive any support from my fellow pedestrians, which included some reasonably fit-looking adult males (if one can go by appearance). This toleration of public terrorising (for that’s what this gang’s behaviour was all about) I actually find more intolerable than the yobs themselves.

So let’s get “Tough on Worcester Wimp Syndrome, Tough on the Causes of Worcester Wimp Syndrome”, I say.

Oh, and, yes, a few more “Traffic Taliban” (of the kind favoured by the North Wales Police Constabulary) wouldn’t go amiss in these parts, provided they attend to the real road and pavement terrorists, and not the occasional harmless cyclist using the public footway when trying to avoid deranged motorists.

“Make My Day !” : An Encounter with a 4×4 Fxxxhead

I was cycling along a Worcester suburban street yesterday, when a silver 4×4 – apparently without a silencer – exploded loudly in front of me. “What a Pratt !” I shouted, as the vehicle passed me in the opposite direction, and carried on cycling, only to hear shortly later the approach of the loud, and now angry, vehicle/driver from behind. Yes, I was now being pursued and then confronted.

My first instinct as the bald (ageing skinhead ?) driver pulled up in front of me was to threaten to call the police, which I duly did. However, one part of me had been waiting for such an encounter for some time, and was jolly well going to to make the most of it. So swiftly removing the silencer on my battery of expletives, I  released these onto the offending driver/vehicle in rapid succession.

I think he got my message, only managing a rather feeble “Greenpeace” in response to my tirade. However, seeing that the vehicle had no rear number plate, aside from its other dysfunctions, I thought the situation worthy of police attention. Its equally dysfunctional driver, seeing me withdraw my new alien mo-tiffed handbag from my rucksack,  then decided to make a getaway.

“Hasta La Vista Baby” ! Yes, I have been known as The Terminator.