Okay, so it’s the next town over. But props to Wild Oats for some very nice veggie food. And then to the stall holder who sold me this. Imagine getting tea every morning from this. How can you not smile? And, yes, it’s tail is the handle. Gorjuss. 
Tory boy Karl ‘fourth choice’ Poulsen’s tactics in Ilkley are likely to be a micro-cosm of the party’s tactics in the country as a whole. Yes, welcome once more to the politics of fear. Lying in bed waking up slowly to the Today programme each morning, it’s a piece of piss to work out that day’s Daily Hate headline–you’re guaranteed that Mr Howard will be making a supportive statement. He hasn’t mentioned house prices yet, but you’ll be sure that it’s to come.
Thus we have a campaign that will be based around asylum seekers/foreigners swamping our culture; fears over domestic and national security (though the former will be more relevant than the latter); fears over financial security and inheritance; fears over crime. The problem for the Tories is that the point they’re making each time will be circumscribed by the policies of one of the most right-wing governments this country’s known since the days of the repressive tories in the 1820s.
Thus, Poulsen’s letter to the Gusset last week (and probably repeated in local papers across the country). The Howard attempt to pass legislation allowing householders to kill intruders–a classic example of a non-issue produced and huffed over simply to make a scene. The necessary failure of the bill existed only to find some clear blue water between the tories and Labour. But how slight it is. One party says one can use reasonable force, the other says that’s not enough. So we have the reasonable force and the unreasonable force partes arguing over matters of interpretation.
And the obvious failure of the legislation (what would they have done if it had passed?) allowed tory boys in marginals up and down the country to point to Labour letting down vulnerable people, failing to protect the constituents, etc. etc. Politics of pose and piss and wind, ‘performed’ rather than lived.
Of course, in Ilkley, this tactic might just work. If you can make the inhabitants scared enough, given their demographic, you might be able to take advantage. So, we shall see a lot of this over the next two-and-a-bit months. Look out for mentions of pensions, of reductions in standard of living for the elderly, of the high cost of IHT, and, of course, of the killing level of council tax.
We’ll also see the Tories building up the BNP vote, because they need to strip enough Labour votes away in Keighley to allow them to use their in-built majority in Ilkley to good effect (and hope the UKIP don’t have the same impact on them). So lots of mentions of immigration and ‘condemnations’ of extremism. What a lovely prospect.
Angel’s had to work at home today. We can all see why. Just a few images of the view from our garden towards Myddelton Lodge (there would have been more but I got tired of Typepad crashing when I was uploading)
I’ve suggested before that Bar T’at, previously a favourite, is going downhill. Today it was just awful. Ordered the spinach canelloni. Very obviously. It arrives, we think, ‘oh thy’ve chnaged it again, take a mouthful or two…’shit, that’s mince’. They try to pretend the chef had had a misunderstanding, but given the bar guy had clearly written down which cannelloni I wanted, it was more of a feck up.
The ‘real thing’ arrives. Fork goes in. Fork goes in again. Where’s the canneloni? They’ve given me some cheese and pasta sauce soup.
Still, at least the beer was nice. Offically off my places to go list (boy, is that getting small!).
Well, it was a choice between lying on the sofa and watching The OC or getting out and aboot. Living where I do, it’s not much of a choice…
(course that was a few days ago, it’s all white now)
The new bridges over Heber’s Ghyll are very nice. Not so sure about the concrete steps leading to them. Maybe they’ll weather down.
Having only just mentioned, we should now mark the passing of the local Labour Party’s discussion board. I know it was inundated with the illiterate, but all that meant was proper Admin-ing, surely? Farewell, sweet democracy, how little we knew you…
The official ban on hunting with dogs comes into force today. Now, I’m not going to get into the whole ‘is it right or is it wrong’ thing. Frankly the limp-wristed arguments of both sides leave me cold.
What does amaze me, though, is the insistence of the pro-hunt lobby that their, uhhr, activity, is a matter of civil, nay, human rights. Somewhere in our unwriten constitution, every true-born Englishman has been given the right to tear wild animals to pieces. Kewel.
Course, if they really believe that, we’ll be seeing a few of the huntsmen in full pink outside Belmarsh Prison. Perhaps they’ll be building alliances with other victims of human rights abuses. "You support our right to tear animals to pieces, and we’ll support your right not to be imprisoned without trial, suffer house arrest, and have your passports removed on evidence produced under torture." It could happen. Couldn’t it?
But if this bill stops hunting with dogs, what’s to stop our local hunts recruiting other agents to do their dirty work? I can see it now, ‘The Bramham Hunt’s new Master of Feral Scutter Children’. There’s plenty of them around in Leeds, and no-one would miss a few. Probably be getting better diets as a result too.
BIg props (sorry, I’m listening to some of that young person’s populr beat music, I believe it’s called rap?) to yorkshire soul. Not so much for the amusing pictures, but for the accounts (with images) of numerous walks across our local countryside. If I wasn’t already here; if, for instance, I was living overseas, I can imagine they would make me as homesick as Steve Harmison. Well done that man.
Amusingly, a search on ‘Anne Cryer racist’ or variations thereof on google brings back this site as No.1 response.
That damn googledog, putting words into mah marf.
Over on the Keighley BNP talkboards community forum, they’re appealing to the people of Ilkley to support Mr. Griffin in his campaign. Obviously, this has quickly devolved into exchanges of ‘Fascist…communist’ as though they’re equivalent (and completely ignoring Godwin’s law (though does it count if you really are a fascist?).
What I like about this post, apart from the notion that people died in the last war defending racism (uhhr, yeah, they did, only not on our side), is the idea that we should allow Mr Griffin to speak at events so he can tell the truth.
Now, I believe completely in free speech. If only Griffin did as well. It’s why the BBC have to infiltrate his little band of brothers. He pretends not to be a racist. He doesn’t simply come out anymore and say–’chuck the niggers/pakis/racial epithetofchoice out’. He talks about voluntary repatriation. Understanding different cultures. Wanting them to develop separately (there are some big mis-understandings of what passes for ‘British’ culture there of course–ask Linda Colley). It’s only when the hidden cameras go in that he reveals himself for what he really might be.
Unless the meakly-mouthed weasel is really him. And the strident racist is only for certain consumption. Perhaps even he doesn’t know anymore. It’s a long way from the ‘political solider’ days innit Nick? Time, maybe, to have a little look back at our man’s career…
It seems bleakly appropriate that the leader of the BNP, Nick Griffin (and I’ve just realised that as well as turning up on searches for various illicit sexual activities, I’ll turn up on google for that mention), should be standing in Ilkley and Keighley at the oh-please-get-it-over-with forthcoming election. And I’m not talking about our beloved fylfot.
The presence of the BNP leader has driven our local representative into a fervour of condemnation, of course. Apparently we must all pull together to reject this evil racist.
Various Ilkley-ites have been acting as though this is all Keighley’s troubles. Yet, I have no doubt that the BNP will receive a fair few votes over on this side of t’hill. This is the community, after all, where the Daily Mail–that facist hack-rag–is the best selling paper. People here believe that immigrants are swamping the nation, even if they don’t actually have any evidence of seeing them. The Dales can be a scary place if you’ve a black face, as any cursory reading of the Craven Herald would reveal. And in even the most genteel of neighbourhoods (I’m looking up Curly Hill here), there’s a Mail-derived opinion that the invading hordes are just round the corner (the curry houses in town are the first wave, donch’a know?). It’s where genteel racism is an everyday occurrence.
So, yes, it’s appropriate that he’s standing here. The Labour Party seems to work under the impression that none of us will have noticed what they’ve been doing for the past eight years. The racist rhetoric. The internment camps. The thousands deported to what uncertain fate. The immigration-used-as-excuse-for-any-barmy-policy. And when they get taken seriously. When people actually start believing it all (just like they always do, every time such language is used–we’re very odd stuck out here on our immigrant island), and start acting on it, they start to cry foul.
Ms Cryer has been one of the worst (as even some of the non-BNP plants on her local website admit). Not that there’s anything wrong with the notion of requiring a standard of English to be learnt before gaining citizenship. But when it’s accompanied by speech after speech decrying ‘foreign’ customs, attacking cultural standards, a paradigm of hatred, rejection and ‘otherness’ is created. And into the paradigm, steps something, well, not any worse at all to be frank. At least the BNP are hon…uhhr, well, no, they’re not are they? They can’t even be bothered to be honest about the whole thing. They have to wait for lazy BBC film crews to reveal their racism (and journalists infiltrating the BNP is easier than Searchlight/Special Branch agents doing it (Tim Hepple anyone?)).
So, frankly, I’m quite pleased. It’ll give some of us the sight of watching one bunch of racists trying desperately to differentiate themselves from another bunch. And nary a playing card can be slipped between the two. ‘You want a fascist for a neighbour, vote Labour’. Fuck ‘em both.
Does the Labour Party need money that badly? Visiting the local Labour Party website, and checking on the forum, I’m bombarded with ads.
Mostly, I note without a hint of irony, for casinos.
And the administrator needs to do a little work methinks!
Dunno if it was just me who got the Bradford Council glossy handout a few weeks back. Lots of lovely statistics and pieces about the frankly bizarre ‘Seat Belt Girl’ campaign. Buried in the statistics was some material on the performance of the various local departments.
Having worked in the public sector, I know these alays, but always, show an upward trend (the secret is to re-forecast between reporting dates, so you’re always achieving/surpassing targets). Only, not this time. One department was notable by its lack of success, and its tumbling performance. And which one would that be? Step forward Councillor Anne ‘no pasaran’ Hawkesworth and her Environmental Department. Well done that woman.
Made it back to The Priests House over in Barden for Sunday lunch. New owners, so we thought we’d try it out. Now, the previous owners produced honest English food, somewhat amateurish service, but it passed muster.
The new owners, refugees from Pudsey, don’t even do that. Our lunch delivered to the wrong table, so they continue to make up their dishes, whilst mine sits under the pass lights (judging by its eventual floppy consistency), and finally my partner gets hers some ten minutes later. Not even a hint of an apology either. And then clearing up actually on the table–scraping food around. Like you were at your gran’s for lunch. Then the bill was wrong even on the third attempt. Classic comment, ‘sorry, Sunday only comes round once a week’. Like, yeah, but every week.
Hearing our spectacularly bad waitress talk of another employee, ‘well, she’d never done any waitressing before…’ Well, we had no luck with the experienced, so maybe the neophytes would be an improvement.
Over at T’Observer Jay Rayner has reviewed the Box Tree. Personally I think it’s a pretty fair review. Neither the food (which is as he says slightly old-fashioned) nor the service are up to the standards one would expect of a One Star.
It brought out a discussion about what can be expected in such restaurants. The minimum is good clinical service. What then goes on top is atmosphere and friendliness. Which is where t’Box falls down–according to rumour their French Maitre has already left for T’Grove unable to cope with Mrs Gueller, and I can see why. The service is so uptight, so desperate to please, that it falls down on the very level it is trying so hard to impress on.
Unfortunately, Gueller’s cooking seems not to have moved on in the years since having his own restaurants in Leeds. Where Anthony Flinn and Simon Rogan are experimenting, Gueller is re-treading old experiences. I’m proud Ilkley has a one star restaurant. I’m just not sure that it (or the Box Tree given the recent hike in prices) will last.
Another of our regular themes is the coming of the Ilkley police state. It’s nothing of a surprise to see the first dry runs in place in neighbouring Burley. Cars are being stopped at the village entrance ‘to make sure they’re not stolen’.
Apparently it’s an idea provided by the LAPD and their ‘Rodney King community relations’ department.
Mind, as the Ilkley copper stated a week ago that it’s an offence to provide false ID papers to bouncers at pubs, I’m not sure ANY of them have a grasp of the law.
I will do a long post on the upcoming election and the BNP and so on very soon. In the meantime, thanks to private eye, I note that our beloved membress of parliament is not that consistent on the subject of iD cards. On Nov 28th last year, she voted for an adjournment motion calling for major changes to the bill. And the very next day, November 29th, she praised the whole notion for its likely (ho hum) impact on illegal immigration.
I love a woman who knows her own mind. Wonder what she received over night? A free colour and rinse?
I particularly enjoy her contribution to the debate on provision of broadband.
The very first post on this site was an attack on the ludicrous visit baht’at country campaign being launched in the region.
Good news, then, that it’s being wound up. Or down. Depending which way you look at it.
Ilkley Rocks gets there. Eventually.
The parish council have decided in their own, totally undemocratic, way that they might provide some funding for ilkley.org. Funding, presumably from the money provided by us punters in the form of our parish precepts. Given that pravda’s website is down so often, they obviously want a secure way of reaching the masses.
However, their argument is based on ilkley.org being the most popular site about the town. Which it isn’t. As detailed elsewhere on this site, those behind .org have also been rather underhand in their dealings with other online Ilkley presences. Which surely makes them less than suitable as recipients of our hard-earned ca$h?
Increasingly it’s becoming obvious that the best way to find out what’s going on in Ilkley is to look either here (where there’s a very jaundiced point of view) or over at our friends on ilkley-more. The latter, thanks to its frenetic forum frolics, discusses local events and rumours that our venerable local paper never gets round to (if you read the gusset, you’d be convinced that there’s no crime at all in this fair town).
Harrumph.
