No shame, no morals, no lives and possibly no sex
Would a change of government bring about an end to the petty tyranny seemingly endemic in our local councils? Somehow, I doubt it; the machinery of our modern supposed democracy favours the election to power of tin generals and the kinds of people who were once upon a time relegated to curtain-twitching for hours, waiting for the glorious moment a football was accidentally kicked into their gardens so they could rush out bellowing at small children and curse their bloodlines.
Councillors in Ashtead in Surrey—a county filled with Tories, flower arrangers, manicured lawns and little club meetings where those attending can wile away a few hours nodding in agreement with each other on the dire state of the nation—have threatened to prosecute father David Waterman for having the nerve to fly a skull and crossbones flag during his small daughter’s pirate-themed birthday party. A neighbour complained—what a lovely person she or he must be—claiming it breached planning regulations stipulating that only national flags can be flown outside houses without a permit costing ninety-five quid.
Now Mr Waterman has been given seven days to take it down or face prosecution. Of course, as it was only put up for the birthday party, we can assume he will be taking it down. But the neighbour will be grinning from ear to ear right now, knowing we live in a land where interfering pillocks with obsessive disorders and lifetime accumulations of bitterness and resentment are no longer told to go away and get help, but instead actively encouraged by the completely power-mad despots holding political office to spy on everyone else. Does this neighbour have any friends?
Only recently a local authority prosecuted a man who ended up with a criminal record and a fine of hundreds of pounds for overfilling his refuse bin by a few inches, after the council had switched from weekly to fortnightly collections of rubbish. Our own local authority collects so-called green waste, to be placed in brown bins, only in the spring and summer months and then only fortnightly, telling us we can fill them with leaves and grass clippings and twigs, but not branches—though, in this insanity of bureaucracy the politicians have failed to specify, as you’d think the anally-retentive would, what measurements are involved in ascertaining when a twig becomes a branch. We’re left to guess. Or size up our sticks.
This is a multi-page entry: page 1 page 2
tags: bureaucracy, crime, democracy, fines, justice, local authorities, local councils, neighbours, penalties, rubbish
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