Same Sex Marriage Debate: A Report by Jane Marshall.

Yesterday, after writing about the same-sex marriage debate hosted by Soubry, I went off to an Oxjam meeting, thus unable to attend the meeting itself.

I soon started receiving some disturbing tweets and text messages from people who were there, and it sounded like things were not going too smoothly. I asked one of the attendees who tweeted me if they would write me a report on the meeting, which they kindly did. If anyone else wishes to send me some more details, please do. I’ll hand over to Jane Marshall for her take on the meeting:

Anna Soubry better than God???????: By Jane Marshall.

A tweet from Lord Beestonia prompted me to attend the Anna Soubry public meeting on Same Sex Marriage. As I strolled down Clarkes Lane behind a gay couple and walked in with two lesbians I congratulated myself on choosing to live in progressive, liberal, diverse Beeston rather than Step’Bridg’ford

But my euphoria was short lived when I entered the church hall to be met by the sea of grey, the buttoned up blouses and the rustle of The Daily Mail. 150 people, 140 Christians, standing room only. Let the battle commence.

Anna stated her case well on why she supported the bill: it was a matter for personal conscience and it was just the right thing to do. No applause. She then opened it to the floor and what followed was an hour of pure hatred, bigotry & small mindedness. Talk of the deviant act, the unnatural practices, the non evolutionary behaviours undertaken by those ‘homosexuals’ was rife; they didn’t want their grandchildren taught about gay sex. Anna asked if they were referring to anal sex, an act she said that was also undertaken by men and women in heterosexual marriage but she wasn’t particular partial to it herself. The smelling salts flew out of their Mrs T handbags.

More toxic comments on how AIDs would be stopped if we got rid of gays, how gay marriage was the slippery slope to incest and how marriage should be between a man & woman solely for the procreation of children. One woman in all seriousness asked Anna if the government had considered the cost of changing all the dictionaries to include this new fangled definition of marriage. Another asked about changing all the great novels ever written. Each clarified they were not homophobic; that had met a gay once and he had seemed ok; but each stated their own brand of Christianity, bible-believing, fundamental, evangelistic, catholic priest, vicars all trying to prove that they were more righteous than the last speaker, top religious trumps.( more factions  than our local Labour party.)

Finally a lone voice spoke, a Christian who worked for the Samaritans said he knew the affects of intolerance, followed by a woman Christian preacher who helped young adults cope with being gay and a lesbian who had just got engaged to the woman she loved. The silent minority was finding its voice. Each was passionate about why they believed in this Bill and spoke about their disappointment at the ‘waves of hate’ flowing around this church hall. They wanted equality of rights, the same aspirations for all people, the legal backing of marriage that civil partnerships didn’t provide and for all people to marry the person they loved.

This meeting was a brave move by Soubry, these are her key voters in a marginal seat. The photo shows 1 empty seat where 1 man walked out saying he would never vote for her again (normally I would be giving it a hearty Here Here) but ‘So be it’ was her defiant response.

I left at 10pm, it was still going on like a bad Ken Dodd gig. The heavens opened and I heard a speaker saying she was there to represent God and this was the start of his retribution on us if we let this Bill through, the start of his damnation against us, the start of the persecution by gays against Christians.This caring, sharing God I had heard so much about tonight. As I went through the doors I saw the woman preacher and gave her a hug, grateful she had spoken out. Me hugging a Christian, cheering on Anna Soubry. God certainly moves in mysterious ways. Jane Marshall.

Post Script: We’re recieved a couple of other testimonials from people who attended the meeting, and I wanted to put these up in full. Please let us know what you think by leaving us a comment below.

I was there and as someone who is currently ‘engaged to enter a civil partnership’ (so romantic sounding, isn’t it?), it is something that I am passionate about.

The majority of people there were strongly opposed to same sex marriage, but then people are more likely to turn up complain about something than to support it. Also, holding it in a church isn’t very welcoming to LGBT people that may have had negative experiences with organised religion in the past, so they may have felt too intimidated to attend.

I have read that the meeting ‘descended into bigotry’ and I admit that it was hard to sit and listen to people saying that my love and my life is sinful and unnatural, especially when it was often born out of misinformation and prejudice. Much of what was said was offensive not just to gay people but also to anyone who has a ‘non-traditional’ family (ie have children out of wedlock/adopted children, etc). I would say though that attending has helped me to understand others’ points of view; I only hope that they can say same.

In terms of what was said, some views held on the basis of religion (or how that person interprets their religion) I disagreed with, but respect people’s right to hold them. Other opinions were misinformed, hurtful and even laughable. Still others, however were lovely affirmations that there are generous, kind people across different faiths, genders and sexualities.

I spoke about the inequality between civil partnerships and marriages, both legally and from a personal view point and a number of people came up to me afterwards to thank me for speaking and to wish me and my fiancee all the best in the future. That is what I’ll choose to remember about the night, not the hurtful views of some, but the wonderful support of others. Amy.

Anna Soubry hosted a Q&A-style debate on the equal marriage bill on Thursday. I wasn’t expecting the numbers or supporters to opponents to be very favourable, not least because the event coincided with the second eurovision semi-final. But going to a debate to have your relationships and life scrutinised, judged upon and derided by complete strangers was never going to be an appealing prospect for many.

Anna almost showed up late to the meeting, held at Clarkes Lane Methodist Church in Chilwell, due to a blown-up tyre on her car. I can only assume this was a sign from God of the evening to come. Within minutes of thanking everyone for turning up it had spiralled into a homophobic hate-fest with all the arguments I’d naively thought had been laid to rest in the 1980s reappearing. Homosexuals spreading AIDS, coming into your children’s schools, having “unnatural” anal sex, living deviant lives, comparisons with incest. Some insisted that same-sex couples could never properly be married; they can’t consummate because homosexuals apparently don’t have sex. Plenty of talk about God and Jesus, as if they ever said anything about same-sex couples marrying or everyone in this country still believes in them.

Numerous self-declared “bible-believing Christians” (presumably keepers of slaves, who eat no fat and stone their stubborn children) spoke about their persecution. Teachers no longer able to teach kids that same-sex attraction is wrong. Never mind the 80% of LGBT youth who are bullied in schools. Bibles and prayer books having to be rewritten. Just think of the cost! It all reminded me very much of the American debates prior to Obamacare. I had thought myself lucky to live in a country where that kind of hysteria and spreading of misinformation on an issue I’d assumed most civilised people would have no problem with wouldn’t happen. It seems I was wrong.

I’m a young gay man. This wasn’t a debate about a policy disagreement. It was a debate about my life and my future. I’ve been assaulted, spat at and bullied; but sitting for two and a half hours in a room full of supposedly good Christians through all those jeers and all that hatred has to be one of the most unpleasant and uncomfortable experiences of my life. A small number of other LGBT people attended, including some from deeply religious backgrounds, and spoke passionately about their relationships and desires. They happen to be exactly the same as everyone else’s there. Love and commitment. Why would anyone have a problem with that? Why would other people’s marriages disintegrate because some of us want the same rights?
I don’t think the debate should have happened, especially in a church. It wasn’t a safe space for LGBT people. Anna, to her credit, kept her cool throughout and defended the legislation. I’m not thanking her for her commitment to a yes vote. Doling out or accepting gratitude for simply acknowledging other people’s lives, futures and expectations as equal to anyone else’s is an absurd concept. But her handling of that meeting and resilience in the face of such hysterical hostility really is worth some respect, on this issue at least. Stewart.

In Support of Soubry; No, really!

I’m often accused of barking on about Soubry too much. A fair point, perhaps, but she is our elected representative and there are few other places for your casual Soubry-watcher to get info from. Now she’s stropped off from The Beeston Express we’re denied a horse’s-mouth insight into her work, although I have been reinstated back onto her mailing list, as have a few others who reported they’d been kicked off.

Now, I’m not a total Soobzaphobe. I disagree with the way she is using Broxtowe as a career stepping-stone, rather than a chance to serve the public good; I disagree with a lot of the things her party stand for and the callous way they’re carrying out their plutocratic plans, but occasionally, just occasionally we find common ground and I am obliged to give her a cap-doff.

So it is with her views on gay-marriage. She is stridently for this policy, and I salute that. I’m not quite sure what the objection is to be honest. It also is odd that those who believe the state should get out of our personal lives – Tories in this country, Republicans (particularly tea-baggers) in the US – become particularly fascinated with the most intimate details of our personal lives when it involves sujects such as homosexuality and abortion.

This simple infographic has been doing the rounds on the internet for a few months, and handily dissects the argument:

Anna seems to have had some objection to her stance though, and as such is holding a meeting tonight at Clarkes Lane Methodist Church, Chilwell to discuss her stance. If you wish to attend, it kicks off at 7.30pm and should run for around an hour. I urge you to go, and – yes, that noise is Hell freezing over- support Anna and her stance on this bizarrely controversial subject. The bill is before the Commons on Monday.

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Beestonia does a lot for charidee, and does want to talk about it.

After gorging on politics for the past few weeks, I’m taking a well-deserved break and instead throwing what small pools of energy have left into what looks like a corking summer of fun in Beestonia.

Last week was the real treat: a bank holiday of sun, barbecues and sangria courtesy of the fantastic White Lion. Sorry to bang on about it again, but it’s a huge relief to see a pub get rescued after years of neglect. It’s a proud addition to the pantheon of great Beeston pubs: The Crown, The Hop Pole, The Grey Hound and yes, I suppose the Vic. Now, if Blue Monkey Brewery wants to have another look at doing up The Star, we’ll be the best pubbed town in Britain.

Not tried the new White Lion yet? Well tonight might be the chance. An acquaintance of mine, Chris, is running a charity night there this evening. Chris has been instrumental in setting up a new mental health charity called The Next Step Network, which provides peer-led social, educational, vocational opportunities for people with mental health difficulties, to enable them to reach their highest potential in a society that is understanding and accepting of mental health.

All very worthy, and definitely worth the £3 minimum donation on the door. For that you’ll get some fab musicians, including Beestonian musical stalwart Rosh Rai;  and also featuring talents Ali Bonsai, , Des Youngs , Ryan Thomas , Anwyn Williams and Becky Syson.

They’ll be a raffle with free tickets to Alton Towers, The Theatre Royal and lots more as prizes, plus a, ahem, ‘three foot balloon model of Popeye’. Get down tonight. I’ll be there.

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Issue 18 of The Beestonian is now out in our usual outlets. If you’d like a copy an d can’t make it into Beeston, then we’re offering a mail-order service: simple send an A4 SAE to pur postal address at The Beestonian, c/o 106 Chilwell Road, Beeston, Notts NG9 1ES. It’s free, but if you wish to show gratitude then feel free to make a donation which we will pass on to our Oxjam Beeston Takeover campaign.

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Oxjam is coming along nicely, with some fantastic fundraisers being planned. I should have news of the first one soon: if you’re a canny baker, cake-maker, etc, then you’ll really like it. I’m presently working on my Paul Hollywood beard in preparation. Should be fab. We’ll also have a stall at Beeston Carnival in July….again, more later.

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And a bit more charity to finish up on. My lovely partner, Ellie, aka Queen Weasel, completed her five day Below the Line challenge, only spending a pound a day on food  for the duration. She did admirably, putting up with my selfish eating of posh food in front of her. At one point, her envy got so heightened I had to eat a Toffee Crisp at the bottom of the garden. I later caught her sniffing the wrapper.

She smashed her £250 target by a clear £100, but fear not. I know many of you who read this donated, and that I commend, thank you. Yet if it slipped your mind, there’s still time to donate, click here to do so.

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A Guest Post From Luke Nightingale: Soubry’s Problematic Punctuation.

In March this year the government released its new “framework” for testing the spelling, punctuation and grammar of 8-11 year olds.

Education Secretary Michael Gove has implemented a series of back-to-basics reforms which involve testing 11-year-old children on their ability “to use punctuation marks correctly in their writing, including full stops, question and exclamation marks, commas, inverted commas, and apostrophes to mark possession and omission.” (Framework Document, p. 9).

Keen followers of the Broxtowe political scene will already be fearful of our local MP’s prospects under this new back-to-basics regime. Indeed, assessing Anna Soubry MP’s regular email newsletters against Michael Gove’s criteria is a time-consuming task. Why? The sheer volume of punctuation errors made by Soubry is quite extraordinary. She routinely pluralises “MP” with an apostrophe, appears to have no knowledge of compound adjectives, has a bizarre understanding of quote marks, and often splits single words in two (“stereo typing”, “grand parents”), often with amusing consequences.

A careful reading of Soubry’s output suggests that her punctuation almost never meets the standards that her government expects of 11-year-old children. According to Gove’s Draft National Curriculum, children of this age are required to successfully use “the semi-colon, colon and dash to mark the boundary between independent clauses” and to understand “how hyphens can be used to avoid ambiguity (e.g. man eating shark versus man-eating shark, or recover versus re-cover)”. Indeed, many of Soubry’s newsletters fail even to meet the standards demanded of 9-year-olds, who are expected to successfully use “apostrophes to mark singular and plural possession”.

The incredible frequency of Soubry’s errors suggests that the problem is one of incompetence rather than sloppiness. And apparently the office staff who check her writing do not have adequate literacy skills either. It is remarkable that, from the £89,684.10 that our MP spent on staff in 2010-11, Soubry was unable to find a single employee with the punctuation proficiency of an 11-year-old.

It may be that readers simply do not believe my claims. To convince yourselves, please stroll over to the “Anna Soubry’s Punctuation” site (http://annasoubryspunctuation.tumblr.com), which has, since Easter, been publishing one new Soubry error per day. So far enough have been found to keep up this publication frequency until the end of the year at least.

Fortunately, thanks to Michael Gove’s reforms, Soubry will soon be able to brush up on her literacy skills at any local primary school. I wish her well in her endeavours.

Field Farm. A Finger of Fudge For Everyon

 

Aww, politics. That system that best resembles a kitten stuffed with snakes.

Soubry met Pickles today, as previously noted.

She met him to try and persuade him to reject the Borough Council plan to develop on Field Farm.

He met her, she said her piece. He replied. The rest is in not recorded.

Anna then released a statement. It laid clear why she understood the Tories would take a hit. Mid-term disillusionment, etc. Osbornes austerity plan, that now even have the IMF shouting down as a fast-track to collapse are dismissed thus:

the economic recovery is not where we had hoped it to be

At least they are not trying to deny they have made major economic mistakes.

Yet her central local campaign, Greenbelt protection, is in pieces should Pickles refuse to veto Broxtowe’s proposal. It will show that despite the best of efforts, and I commend Anna on her vociferous and dedicated campaigning, despite all this it was mere pissing in the wind.

So she meets Pickles, and what occurs? Alas, we will not find out until AFTER the election as Pickles has waddled off to apparently consider the proposal.

How convenient. I spoke to Richard MacRae earlier today (Wednesday). I outlined the fudge and he expressed a massively pragamatic response: ‘Ah. She’s a politician’

And she is. Nothing less, nothing more.

She knows what Pickles will say. He will tell her to apply a veto his office will see an avalanche of anger. Chief among these will be Westermans, the builders who are eagerly awaiting th green light to send the developers. I stress this is a personal view, but Westermans Homes are up there with Persimmion Homes for providing the kind of box only a gimlet-eyed sociopath would wish to build.

Anna is aware of this, let this be clear. So she has purposely refused to let the residents of Trowell, Stapleford and Bramcote know -and she knows, not let that be in doubt- where Field Farm lies.

I do not endorse any party or candidate. I only hope I shed a light on the local scene. In this case I think anyone looking for answers on Green Belt development realises that Anna Soubry, MP, is not the saviour they think she might be. The Field Farm issue is wildly complex, and I swear I will soon post up a analysis of the situation, but for now it seems that if you do wish to oppose development there; or at least trigger a debate that is not hi-jacked by political opportunism, vote accordingly. Readers in Stapleford and Bramcote, you have two votes. Use one to vote for your stripe of choice, but if you want  to really get your voice heard, use your second choice and vote MacRae.

I will repeat: Beestonian does not endorse any Field Farm stance. I grew up near there, and I;d hate to see it go. On the other hand, I understand the pressures that councils are under to provide sites for development. I understand that the inequities in property ownership are so great we are creating another bubble. I do understand that we need to have a review on council tax valuations; on property tax viability, on land tax.  There lies the argument.

What I don’t stand for is highly cynical attempts by politicans who hijack a strong campaign for their own ends; knowing it was doomed to failure cos -oops- their own party is chomping at the bit to chew into greenbelt- to take a real grass-roots campaign ran by politically-neutral activist, and pervert it.

Pervert it for their own means. Soubry lies supine before Pickles, let there be no doubt. She came away with one compromise today: they would not announce until you’d all safely slipped your slips into a ballot box. Vote accordingly.

Soubz, I need not tell regular readers, is the epitome of cynical politics.Vote tomorrow. Vote accordingly.

Field Farm. A Finger of Fudge For Everyone.

Aww, politics. That system that best resembles a kitten stuffed with snakes.

Soubry met Pickles today, as previously noted.

She met him to try and persuade him to reject the Borough Council plan to develop on Field Farm.

He met her, she said her piece. He replied. The rest is in not recorded.

Anna then released a statement. It laid clear why she understood the Tories would take a hit. Mid-term disillusionment, etc. Osbornes austerity plan, that now even have the IMF shouting down as a fast-track to collapse are dismissed thus:

the economic recovery is not where we had hoped it to be

At least they are not trying to deny they have made major economic mistakes.

Yet her central local campaign, Greenbelt protection, is in pieces should Pickles refuse to veto Broxtowe’s proposal. It will show that despite the best of efforts, and I commend Anna on her vociferous and dedicated campaigning, despite all this it was mere pissing in the wind.

So she meets Pickles, and what occurs? Alas, we will not find out until AFTER the election as Pickles has waddled off to apparently consider the proposal.

How convenient. I spoke to Richard MacRae earlier today (Wednesday). I outlined the fudge and he expressed a massively pragamatic response: ‘Ah. She’s a politician’

And she is. Nothing less, nothing more.

She knows what Pickles will say. He will tell her to apply a veto his office will see an avalanche of anger. Chief among these will be Westermans, the builders who are eagerly awaiting th green light to send the developers. I stress this is a personal view, but Westermans Homes are up there with Persimmion Homes for providing the kind of box only a gimlet-eyed sociopath would wish to build.

Anna is aware of this, let this be clear. So she has purposely refused to let the residents of Trowell, Stapleford and Bramcote know -and she knows, not let that be in doubt- where Field Farm lies.

I do not endorse any party or candidate. I only hope I shed a light on the local scene. In this case I think anyone looking for answers on Green Belt development realises that Anna Soubry, MP, is not the saviour they think she might be. The Field Farm issue is wildly complex, and I swear I will soon post up a analysis of the situation, but for now it seems that if you do wish to oppose development there; or at least trigger a debate that is not hi-jacked by political opportunism, vote accordingly. Readers in Stapleford and Bramcote, you have two votes. Use one to vote for your stripe of choice, but if you want  to really get your voice heard, use your second choice and vote MacRae.

I will repeat: Beestonian does not endorse any Field Farm stance. I grew up near there, and I;d hate to see it go. On the other hand, I understand the pressures that councils are under to provide sites for development. I understand that the inequities in property ownership are so great we are creating another bubble. I do understand that we need to have a review on council tax valuations; on property tax viability, on land tax.  There lies the argument.

What I don’t stand for is highly cynical attempts by politicans who hijack a strong campaign for their own ends; knowing it was doomed to failure cos -oops- their own party is chomping at the bit to chew into greenbelt- to take a real grass-roots campaign ran by politically-neutral activist, and pervert it.

Pervert it for their own means. Soubry lies supine before Pickles, let there be no doubt. She came away with one compromise today: they would not announce until you’d all safely slipped your slips into a ballot box. Vote accordingly.

Soubz, I need not tell regular readers, is the epitome of cynic politics.Vote tomorrow. Vote accordingly.

Poll Day Looms / Soubz vs Pickles / White Lion Roars Again / Costa del Beestonia

It’s an incredibly busy week for us here at Beestonia Towers; not only have we got a new print edition of The Beestonian coming out in the next few hours (impatient? Then read it online here) , but we’ve also got an election tomorrow, as you may have noticed, and we’ll be covering events at the polling booths tomorrow, and then blogging LIVE from the Broxtowe count. We should be the first to bring you the news on any changes, surprises and conclusions, so go over to http://beestoniabattleofbroxtowe.wordpress.com/ , click ‘follow’ and we’ll keep you up to date on developments. Alternately, follow me on Twitter by searching for me at ‘beeestonia’ (note the triple ‘e’, this was the result of a bad pun about the Libyan capital). I’ll tweet news and gossip live from the count.

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A brief update on SoubzNooz: today Anna meets Eric Pickles in Westminster to see if he’ll obligingly turn down Broxtowe Borough Council’s recommendation to develop on Field Farm in Stapleford. Now, this could go two ways. One, Pickles relents under Soubry’s withering gaze and vetos the plans. Two, he refuses. If he plumps, and yes, that’s what Eric does when he makes a decision, for scenario one, he faces a legal challenge from Westerman, the developers ready with the bulldozers; as well as outrage amongst developments in places such as Essex and Stratford that he has green-lighted. Will he be willing to submit to this shit-storm?

If he goes for scenario two, which I imagine he will do, then one of the strong themes of Anna’s local activism is scuppered. Voters in tomorrow’s ballot may therefore see that Anna may have put up a decent fight to protect the green-belt, but eventually proved ineffectual.

Could there be a third scenario, one of compromise? The mechanism of Parliament and inner party lobbying are far from transparent, so who knows? Will be interesting to see if she chooses to announce the result before Broxtonians go voting.

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A weird twist in the Anna free-speech thing. It seems I, and several others, have been put back on her mailing list after being kicked off recently. All very odd. I was looking in the legality of using a budget provided by all constituents to communicate only with those who didn’t dissent,  but whatever the rules, it’s still an almost Stalinist approach.

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I visited the newly done-up White Lion yesterday and was impressed. The pub has been a sleeping giant for years, ground into crapness by uncaring, asset-stripping PubCos. Now it’s in the hands of two Portuguese chaps who have redecorated it into something plush again, started up the kitchen and given it a Portuguese twist. I tried their tapas last night, and it was gorgeous and more than a fitting substitute for that offered up by the much missed Library. I also tried -in the name of journalistic rigour, of course- a shared jug of sangria. It was utterly fabulous, a fruity yet strong Med cruise in a wine glass. It slightly jars when you’re savouring the summer taste and imagining sitting in the warmth outside a beach-front tasca, before glancing out the window at the next door funeral parlour. Still, give it a try. Welcome back into the fold, White Lion / Branco Leão.

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I’m especially fond of Portugal, having spent a few years living in the Algarve during a period of Beestonian exile. bizarrely, my dining partner last night was a guy called Stu who also lived there for a while, albeit a few years earlier.  Today on twitter I’ve notice many people pointing out it’s the 16th anniversary of the 1997 Labour landslide, which I was away for.

I still remember how I found out though. I was trying to get from my prior job at a resort in Altea in Spain to Albufeira in Portugal, where I’d been promised a better contract. I packed my stuff, and left the Costa Blanca. However, the trains were all fully booked due to it being a Festa, so I ended up squandering a small fortune on a flight to Seville, then a taxi (!) to Huelva in Andalusia, where I was to be picked up from and taken to my new job.

I got there late in the day, and was told at the tourist kiosk it would be impossible to find a room as they were all booked up, due to people arriving for the Festa. Dejected, I wandered the streets before finding the worst Pensão in Spain, where the bed sheets were marked with the name of a hospital, and mosquitos were as thick in the air as a murmuration of starlings. I dropped my stuff off, went out into the evening heat and went to find a bar that would let me eat for a tiny amount of pesetas I still had left.

I stopped at one bar, and asked for a menu. A cursory scan made it clear I would struggle to buy a starter, let alone a full meal. I got up to leave. As I did, the bar owner stood up, shouted ‘Hey! Inglés?’

‘Yes’.

‘Then you stay. You eat. You no pay’. He ushered me back to my chair, as I stared at him bewildered.

‘You make Tony Blair the leader. He is a great man! ‘ He pushed the menu back in my hand ‘Now you choose. No pay’.

Blair’s legacy is still subject of fierce debate. Yet his win in ’97 instantly improved my life.

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However, if I’d gone back after 2003 that same bar owner would probably have spat in my food.

Guest Post From Simon Cross: Sweary Soubz.

My last piece has provoked a fair bit of comment, especially the final, sweary paragraph. I stand by it, but acknowledge it may have been a tad strong for some. Apologies if offended.

Beestonian Simon Cross got in touch with the offer of a guest piece on Soubz swearing, and an explanation of why she’s so fond of the choice vernacular.

Over to Simon:

It is now commonplace to claim women are taking men on at their own games though not necessarily in socially progressive ways. For instance, alcohol abuse amongst young women has been rising for some years showing that women can beat the men given the opportunities. But what about other areas of modern life where men traditionally have taken the lead requiring women to put up or shut up?

One might think of the relatively small number of women who enter politics showing that they can make their voice heard in a male-dominated world. Mrs Thatcher famously told a reporter that she wanted to be Prime Minister because men up to this point had made such a bad job of it. What though of that particular game that many men tend to play: partaking of profanities in public places?

The question is important because of late our Member for Broxtowe has gained national prominence as the swearing politician. Will Anna’s public profanities be of concern amongst the good voters of Broxtowe? I think that it will concern more than a few citizens; in particular Broxtowe Woman whose non-partisan vote in the 2015 General Election will determine who takes this marginal seat.

Could Anna’s profane antics come to influence how Broxtowe Woman votes in the next General Election? It may seem a stretch to say that it might but we can reasonably wonder as to what women of our constituency (and nationally for that matter) make of her effing-and-blinding on the national media stage. I suppose it is possible that women will reckon that our expletive-minded Anna has learnt that to be seen as ‘independent-minded’ one ought to swear in a ‘manly’ sort of way sending a strong signal that one is in touch not only with Broxtowe Man but every effing-Man-in-the-Street.

But this involves a political danger because sweary Anna is sending out a message about how women must behave in politics to one part of her constituency only: Broxtowe Man. The message is that we should effing well be proud of sweary Anna because our effing Member is a mover and shaker in the effing Westminster Village, which is an effing man’s world. Before that she was an effing Barrister-at-effing-Law helping bang up the effing Bad Boys and before even that was an effing TV journalist on Central-effing-Weekend keeping effing plebs (which no Tory should ever effing-well make reference to anymore) in line, which as Anna is the effing first to admit was effing s*** telly.

My sense is that our effing Member is uttering profanities because she thinks it ‘manly’ and by casually swearing in the public domain (which in some contexts can be a criminal offence, which I’m sure she understands is because it is offensive ) imagines that we voters think she is the kind of woman to ‘get things done’. By taking on the men at their own swearing game she proves she can do it better. Whether Anna’s aping of male profanity appeals to Broxtowe Woman time will tell.

To define oneself as having a record of ‘free speech’ as Anna puts it on her website has more than one meaning. Ironically her bout of swearing shows she is constrained to speak in a ‘manly’ way. In this sense Anna is not only a parody of free speech but the diametric opposite of a parliamentarian like Dr Sarah Wollaston, MP for Totness and regarded as truly independent Tory voice. As it happens Anna’s lax lexicon confirms her conformity underpinned by her record of voting as she is told (no MP in recent times has gained ministerial office by being truly independent of party High Command).

My guess is that when it comes to the next General Election Broxtowe Woman will note the boorish side of Anna Soubry’s personal and political character aping Saturday night louts.

Simon Cross 2013.

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And before you go, please make your way to your local newsagent and pick up a copy of The Nottingham Post today: my monthly Saturday column starts today. The by-line picture is amusing: it’s just my eye. I’m not sure if this an editorial decision to ensure I don’t put readers off their food, or an error. Either way, it suits me.

Soubz Stropz!

“she has a record of unusually free speech”

So said the Independent’s Simon Carr in reference to Soubz, a quote she likes so much she has stuck it on the front of the email she sends out to her constituents.

Well, some of her constituents. I recently noticed that while Lady Beestonia was still receiving the newsletter, I wasn’t. I checked with some Lib Dems and Labour local councillors and they reported the same thing. We’d been kicked off her mailing list. Free speech, eh, Anna?

And that’s not all. The Beeston Express recently ran a questionnaire asking the readership what they’d like in terms in content. One thing that was clear was a demand for more politics: and as we have an incredible, pluralistic mix here (try getting your head round the County elections as I’ve had to do for our sister blog, The Battle of Broxtowe.    It’s a tough call: I commend the Beeston Express for it’s efforts to provide clarity on the vagaries/absurdities).

So the Editor, Sheila, decided to open up the political comment slot to other parties, rather than just Anna’s monthly column. When Anna got wind of this, she threw a massive strop and huffed off, refusing to ever write for them again and sticking a snarky message on her newsletter (kindly forwarded to me from someone still not on her shit-list)

….Unfortunately, the Editor has exercised her right and has decided to cancel my monthly column.
For some time people have been complaining to me that the Beeston Express is no longer the great impartial community newspaper it once was. I am disappointed that the Editor chose to ignore two statements from me about Field Farm and has now refused me the same opportunity as my predecessor. I will continue to express my views and provide updates on my work via this newsletter.

Who are these people who have been complaining? Maybe it’s Anna’s own OTHER mouthpiece, the cringingly-awful  Broxtowe Blue blog. Not heard of it? Well, they don’t do much really, throwing up some Anna-approved content every now and then. They recently wrote about The Beeston Express:

…that Labour rag, The Beeston Express, reported any of this? You bet your life it hasn’t! (Although they always seem happy to publish letters slagging off Anna Soubry.)

Cripes. Were they delivered The Morning Star by a confused paperboy?? I always assumed Sheila was a community-focussed person, rather than a communist. Weird.

That quote was taken from an article that also referred to me:

The person who refuses to publish a proper apology is the Beestonia blog man. The main purpose in his life appears to be to denigrate our MP to the point of obsession. He was quick to publish Clarke’s piece in full and took it down ‘rapido’ when he was tipped off it was defamatory. He really is bonkers if he thinks Anna should engage with him given all the tripe he writes about her.

This was in response to a piece I reblogged from a third party source, and then removed a couple of hours later when I realised elements of the content were not rigorously checked. I apologised for that at the time, but refused to bow to a threatening email sent to me from the idiotic Mr Soubry, Neil Davidson (see Beestonia passim for his willingness to threaten action against all and sundry), instead asking the following questions, since I knew she’d be reading:

1. Why did you base your 2010 Electoral Campaign on a strong ‘Local Candidate’ basis, attacking the incumbent for being disengaged with the Broxtowe scene as he lived in Mapperley, and promising stridently that you would move to Broxtowe if elected, then not doing so? I do realise that your partner, Neil, did send me a threatening email telling me to retract this line of questioning as this was due to ‘personal reasons’; but as Nick Palmer moved to, err, opposite your place in Mapperley, as he got married (a fairly personal action, no?) then it was disingenuous and hypocritical to tout for votes on this? Are you here now? If not, when are you likely to be here?
2. I willingly retract the third-party allegations about your expenses/ income. Will you, in kind, retract the allegation that I am ‘sexist’ as you previously -and rather baffingly-accused me of (see Beestonia passim).
3. I have, on numerous occasions, solicited your comment on Beeeston issues. While I am far from the ‘voice of Beeston’, I do have an increasing amount of readers from all ages, political stripes and other demographic angles. You have NEVER responded to them, aside from the odd warning that I should take stuff down. As the most read blog in your constituency, why not interact? I know you’re busy, but obviously not enough to send out threateners.
4. Will you be staying in Broxtowe come 2015?
5. Will you reply openly to the article Nick Palmer wrote in the previous post?
6. Will you promise to be representative to your constituents if they oppose 1) Royal Mail Privatisation 2) NHS ‘reform’? I understand the concept of electoral mandate, but you did, if I remember, promise to be ‘Broxtowe’s voice in Westminster, not Westminster’s voice in Broxtowe” ?

I await your response.

Unsurprisingly, none came. Free speech, eh Anna?

As this part of the story was ignored by Broxtowe Blue, I wrote a comment in reply. Did they publish it? Take a wild guess. Free speech, eh Anna?

I publish all comments apart from ones that are overtly racist (only had a couple, both from BNP twats). I do believe in free speech, which is why I always post up comments from the pro-Soubz readers. Though despite going by several names, always come from the same two IP addresses. Anonymous they ain’t.

Anna does believe in free speech, I’m sure. The freedom of speech enjoyed by her former assistant Craig Cox, for instance, who went through a police investigation for holding up a sign with the words ‘BRING BACK SLAVERY’ at a Student Union training event, leaving other delegates in tears. He then, as you may remember, took to the web accusing those of being offended as being Stalinist zealots, before my story found its way to The Nottingham Post and The Guardian and he claimed he held the sign up ‘not knowing what was written on it’ and claimed his homosexuality meant he couldn’t therefore be racist, cos, yeah, that’s how it works.

Yes, Anna believes in free speech. But only if it’s coming from her. Like when Mitt Romney was caught saying that the section of the electorate that were poor were not his concern, Soubz believes you have no right of expression if you disagree with her. Freedom of speech, as long as she agrees with it.

I’ll close by addressing Anna directly: Please, please piss off to Rushcliffe asap, Anna. You are a fucking disgrace. An utterly shit politician and Broxtowe cannot wait to see the twatting back of you.

Please excuse the foul language. It’s just an example of unusually free speech. Or at least  your chosen definition of it.

Two- Nation Soubz / In The Post / Girlfriend in a (Hunger-Induced) Coma.

Some interesting Soubz-nooz. Total Politics ran an interview with her this week where she shows off her candid side, perhaps too candidly. Theres a smattering of ‘fuckings’, a pair of ‘bollocks’ and a more moderate ‘bloody’. Best of all though, she refers to the backbench shenanigans that cause Cameron such a headache right now as an example of ‘twattery’. Soubz gets a rare salute for that.

She’s famously sweary, of course. Mad Mel Philips at The Daily Mail ran an attack piece on Soubz where that very trait was used as a stick to beat her. People who have chatted to her have also reported back at her Malcolm Tucker-tongue, on more than one occasion provoked by a mention of me. Charmingly, she described me as that sweary paradox, a ‘fucking wanker’. Well, as Wilde nearly said ‘There is one thing worse than being sworn about, and that is to be not sworn about’.

However, there’s a very telling snippet of the interview that perhaps illustrates Soubz modus operandi as our MP:

“I came into politics to fight lefties…”

This sets her stall out well. Not for her the concept of One-Nation Conservatism: if you are against her, you are not to be listened to and your views taken into account, you are the enemy. It’s a straight black and white thing. Which is quite an odd thing when you consider her tenuous majority means she should be trying to convert people to her cause: invite them into her tent and not build a fortress round it.

It does explain her attitude to those who try to debate a point with her; as mentioned on here approximately 17,425 times since May 2010. When I discuss politics with locals, one thing they always point out is that while Nick Palmer may have held views that they didn’t agree with, he would always thoroughly explain his position and be decent enough to listen to their arguments.

Soubz is, in this way, a real Thatcherite: brittle, peripherally visioned and someone who divides you, her constituents into either goodies or baddies. She really will enjoy Rushcliffe.

________________________

After my one-off guest column in The Nottingham Post recently, I’ve been asked back to do a monthly column. Which is nice. My first one will be in Saturday’s edition. Awful by-line picture included.

______________________

Lady Beestonia also appeared in The Post today, telling everyone about why she’ll be living on a quid a day next week. She’s still short of her target, so dig deep and click here .

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Politics Free Post*: Football Appeal / Eric Pickles is Dan Dare??? / Toy Tesco / Jim Dunn Gives His Opinion on The Coalition. *not entirely true

I’m taking a day off from politics today, after spending the best part of yesterday fact-checking the UKIP and BNP manifestos. Heavens. The far-right really are utter nut-nuts. I only hope nobody was scanning my broadband otherwise I’ll have Special Branch raiding me on suspicion of being a member of Combat 18.

So we kick off with an appeal. A local amateur football team, the fabulously named La Toque (nostalgic gastronomes will sigh happily at that one), who are based down on the Ryland’s Weirfield, are looking for a pub to sponsor them. This basically involves laying a few cobs on for them on a match day, and possibly slipping them a few quid towards a kit. In return they’ll stick an ad on their website, and buy a few pints in your pub/ bar. Win-win. If you’re interested, then send a message to James Hall, at jameshall@horlix.com  / phone 0791 274 8081

Ok, one little bit of politics. One of these is an evil overlord hell-bent on world domination, the other is DoomLord, comic book horror from my youth:

Right no more politics, let’s have some champion photography. Stapleford local activist (and County Council candidate, but I’m not doing politics today so I won’t mention that) Richard MacRae, sent me a selection of photos he took from the now demolished car park in Beeston of Tesco being built. Fantastic use of tilt-shift. Cheers, Richard:

 

Right, I’m still not talking about politics, but I’ll ask local singer/songwriter Jim Dunn what he thinks (I’m new to Soundcloud so apologies to Jim for making it seem like I wrote / sang the song. I didn’t. I’ve got a singing voice that sounds like a fire in a pet shop):

Smokin’ Beestonia.

It’s been a very busy day for myself and my very talented assistant, Mr Fox, interviewing for both the Local Politics blog and The Beestonian. The latter was particularly fascinating, chatting to the couple who ran the long-lamented Pet Mart for thirty-odd years before Tesco arrived and it was swept into the bulldozer’s scoop.

Still, I had a little moment yesterday I have to get off my chest: but fear not: I’m not about to launch into ranty polemic. It’s just a tale I was told that the more I think about it, the better it gets. It’s a fable worthy of Aesop, but with a distinctly Beestonian smear of surrealism.

It starts with me in the aforementioned Tesco buying ciggies. Now, two excuses. One, Tesco was the only place open at the time nearby. Two, I don’t smoke, I was buying for Lady Beestonia, who is still enslaved to the carcinogenic wares of Ken Clarke.

As such, I stumble over the name of her precise brand. ‘I forget the names’ I told the woman serving ‘I gave up about two years ago’

‘Bet you’ve saved a fortune’ she replied. I examined the loose change I’d grubbed together to buy the tabs, and replied ‘Nah. I spend it on other stuff. Should have put it in a jar’. She nodded.

‘A friend of mine did that. He wanted this piece of kit for his car, but it was far too expensive. So he gave up smoking, and saved the cash. Took him ages, but finally he got it together, walked down the shop to buy it, and discovered he’d actually saved too much: it’s dropped in price a few quid.’

I exclaimed that was a bonus, and how much I admired this chap’s willpower. ‘What did he spend the extra cash on?’ I asked.

‘A fresh pack of fags. Makes sense really.’

It really does, in some bizarre way.

The Curse of Beestonia Hits Wilkos / On the Buses to Chilwell Road / Beestonia Sneaks Into The Proper Press.

The Curse of Beestonia once again rears it’s head: I talked about how Wilkos was still resolutely undemolished 12 months on from it’s closure: I walk by today and two chaps were using a lump-hammer on the service yard wall. I might see if this works in other ways, so am working on 500 words on how Tesco still exists.

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It seems a lot of people are still aware of how to get up and down Chilwell Road. The road is NOT CLOSED, but closed to through traffic. You can get as far up by car as Cameron House, and once you do, there is parking opposite The Guitar Spot that will cost you nowt. The fantastic independents there need you to stroll down and have a look in: I can’t endorse this enough. There’s also a  FREE Shoplink bus that runs round Beeston If you’re still confused, here’s a map and a bus timetable to help you out:

Now, stop reading this, and GET OUT THERE AND SHOP DOWN CHILWELL ROAD. Actually, read the next bit first and then PUT DOWN THAT LAPTOP/TABLET/ MOBILE PHONE AND MAX OUT YOUR CREDIT CARDS AND KEEP CHILWELL ROAD ALIVE. Ok?

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I mentioned yesterday that I had a column in The Nottingham Post some time this week, and it turns out I do, and it’s today, and you really should go out and buy a copy forthwith. At least three places sell them on Chilwell Road.

If you REALLY can’t leave home, here’s a link to it. Please leave some comments, along the lines of  ‘This is the best thing ever. Offer this man a full-time contract’ , or likewise. Any unkind mentions that the by-line photo makes me look like a baddie out of a Die Hard film will not be found amusing.

Wilkos, a Year On / Field Farm Fisticuffs (metaphorically)

Yesterday saw the anniversary of a notable event in Beeston: it was one year since Wilkinson’s closed its doors, got rid of half it’s staff and sprinkled the rest around the area on reduced wages and lesser roles. The reason for this, of course, was to demolish the large site for the tramworks.

A year on, the building is still there, empty, useless, undemolished. Why? Trying to find an answer to that is harder than you’d think: when I’ve requested reasons from relevant parties I’ve been rebuffed, or misdirected. Wilkinson’s seem happy by the arrangement: they got out at the top of the game, managing to secure a huge payout, and able to blame it all on anyone but themselves.

I recently asked them how much they received, and they denied they’d received anything, yet this is merely a sleight of hand and how they choose to interpret the payoff. At the public  meeting I held a few months ago relating to the Square, Cllr. Pat Lally admitted it was a significant figure, but would not venture any precision when pressed.

A year on, and we have an eyesore where we could have had a thriving retail unit. The staff – the ones that kept with the company –   are still disgruntled. One recently told me that Wilkos Head Office admitted, through the visit of an HR lackey, that they had ‘handled the staff situation badly’. They were also told what I suspect they knew all along: they won’t be returning.

There explanation for this is that they couldn’t identify a site in Beeston that was adequate to it’s needs. This is despite Henry Boot Developers bending over backwards to accommodate Wilkos into a future site as part of the new Square developments. The correct reason, I believe, lies in the small print of the contract that shut them down: to return would forfeit a chunk of the compensation package. The repeated promises that they gave over last year, each one expounding how committed they were to Beeston, was, frankly, a load of balls.

I recently wrote about Boots for The Beestonian, focussing on their tax arrangements that saw them moving their registered office from Beeston to Zug, Switzerland. I stressed this was not in anyway illegal, and Boots is a business, not a charity. My gripe was the ethical nature of this, and how it contrasted with the philanthropy of it’s founder Jesse Boot. Wilkinson’s is similar here: it was always seen as a local, friendly company. Wilkos in Beeston was exactly that. The staff were diamonds, and it proved a life-line to people who eschew Tesco but still need household stuff.

Wilkos, like Boots, have squandered this goodwill. They took the money, and they ran. A squalid situation.

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I’m very busy running the Nottingham County Council election blog right now so Beestonia is suffering a bit of neglect. I’ve got loads of stories backing up, including the story of Field Farm. This is proving to be a highly contentious issue and, good heavens, it’s tough to draw up a coherent narrative. This is far from a simple Evil Developers versus Good Green-belt Protectors, rather a crash-course in local planning legislation for a lot of people. What I’ve already heard and seen regarding the issues could fill a chunky volume that would make War and Peace appear skinny: I’ll hopefully trim it into something approaching readable soon.

I’m also looking for more politicians/potential politicians to interview: I’m still waiting on replies from a Tory, a Labour one and a UKIPper. Email me at mattgoold23@hotmail.com if you’d like me to come over and have a chat about why YOU should be a councillor come early May.

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The Nottingham Post has given me a few column inches on Wednesday to spout off about a Beestonian subject, taking over the space Erik Peterson usually so wonderfully fills, weekly. Please go out, buy it, ignore the godawful by-line pic, and then form an orderly line for autographs.

The Battle of Broxtowe Blog: Now Live!

As promised, I have set up a new temporary blog to cover the Beeston side of the 2013 County Elections. I’ll not just be covering Beeston, but the whole of ther Broxtowe area, and, in order to see how things work on a macro level, the whole of Nottinghamshire.

As always, my resources are pretty meagre and run to a broadband connection, lots of coffee and a local trained journo who’ll be helping me out for the next month.

If you know any good gossip, any interesting stories or fancy writing a piece for us, send it in to the usual place.

You’ll find it at http://beestoniabattleofbroxtowe.wordpress.com/2013/04/09/the-battle-begins/

Cheers!

Obligatory Piece About Thatcher.

I wasn’t going to write a post today: the sun is out and the air spring-soft, so I was devoting the time I normally spend typing to grasping a spade and a fork and turning my garden into something that looks less like Amazonia. But hey, I popped in for some tea, flipped on BBC News and watched as the newsreader, half-way into a piece about a poet murdered under the Pinochet regime, suddenly stuttered, lost his composure and listened wide-eyed to the message his producer was evidently barking in his ear.

Something’s up, I realised. Some big news is a bout to break. For a terrifying moment, I thought North Korean nukes might soon be arriving in Britain and I resurrected the survival plans I drew up in the Eighties ( painting myself white to deflect the blast, running up Bramcote woods where I’d buried loads of cans, reading the SAS Handbook cover to cover and purchase some firearms to fend off the inevitable mutants).

But no. Thatcher had died. It’s like losing your virginity. When younger, you assume it will happen one day, but as time ticks on you start to think, well, it just might not happen, somehow. And then it does, out of the blue,  and you first tell all your mates and get pleasantly, jubilantly drunk.

Is it right to revel in another’s death? It’s not in the best taste, I vouch, but if one has no respect for the living, then one cannot expect respect in death.

Her legacy still haunts this country: the division between rich and poor and North and South still torn asunder. The monetarist policies she put down sold our utilities to plutocrats who now claim huge salaries and bonuses while profiteering off the back of huge bills , while inviting former Tory MPs to sit on their boards; disintegrated worker’s rights with union laws that would have made the prosecutors of the Tolpuddle Martyrs blush; triggered a pointless war which claimed the lives of my father’s friends- my dad being a former Royal Navy submariner who hit civvy street just months before his mates were sacrificed for a crap chunk of rock full of sheep-farmers in the South Atlantic.

Ah yeah, Matt, she was a great feminist icon. Are you sure? She refused to promote women in her cabinets, which had less female representation than any other dating back to Macmillan. She was female. She was no feminist. The same logic would have it that Gandhi was a great skinhead icon.

Ah yeah, Matt, but she gave the poor the right to buy their council houses. Yes, she did, yet the great majority of these are now in the hands of the private letting sector. This was not a policy to somehow empower the working class, this was a cynical way to lever social housing out of the hands of providers and into the market. The Bedroom Tax currently causing a stir is a continuation of this terrible policy.

Recently released Cabinet papers show that she would have gone a lot further if allowed: the complete dismantling of the NHS, the Welfare State reformed into dust and the Social Contract torn up by the Unseen Hand of Adam Smith. She may have died. These insidious ideas live on with our current regime. Divide the lower classes into blaming each other, keep the City happy, be as economical with the actualitie as you need to be to ensure that seat on the board is kept warm for when you tire of politics.

Thatcherism is far from dead, and it’s exponents are presently thriving. Kay Cutts, who works beneath a framed portrait of The Wicked Witch of Westminster, is it’s most obvious local face. Our own MP, possibly unconciously, moderated her own East Midlands accent since her telly days. It’s now deeper, slower, and more clipped. But was she a fan?

Her offical released statement skims over the usual cliches without adding a personal slant, but rather curiously, get’s the most basic bit of history wrong:

…her legacy leaving Britain far better off in 1997 than we had been when she was first elected in 1979.

Just the six years out, Anna. Mind you, back in the early nineties, Soubz had much more important things to dwell on, such as the complex plotlines of Australian soaps:

So it’s unclear if Soubz is/was a massive Thatcherite or not. But be vigilant. Maggie might have not actually died, merely moving into her next host body….

Some Things For The Weekend.

A few things to tell you about before we slip into a fine spring weekend that could be the first since November without a bloody blizzard.

1) Bartons Big Weekend. Much respect to Bartons, for their response to the closing of Chilwell Road. Rather than retreat for a year while the work goes on, they’ve done the opposite and decided to have a full-on year of events and happenings. This weekend is a great example of that: comedy, a huge market AND  a literary festival. More info here: http://www.bartonsplc.co.uk/

2) New Blog! In exactly 4 weeks Notts County Council will be well on it’s way to knowing how it’s going to be structured. Presently ran by a Tory majority under the stewardship of Kay ‘great graffiti’ Cutts, it looks very likely to see a big shake up. I’m running it as a Broxtowe perspective of the election, and I’m looking for submissions from politicians and the public, rather than write it myself. I will however be having a crack at some amateur psephology, running an on-going poll and collating breaking news. Watch this space.

3) HELP! Fancy yourself as a bit of a writer? I’m looking for someone to help me on a couple of things. First, we’ve kicked off Oxjam and I’m reprising my role as Marketing Co-ordinator. I need to find someone who will take the role as online-media co-ordinator: keeping the website up to date, writing on-line copy, running the Twitter and Facebook pages and so on. Second, I am expanding both The Beestonian and Beestonia over the next few weeks and months, and as such am need on an assistant to help out a few hours a week. I’m afraid I can’t (yet) offer a wage, but it’s dead rewarding , looks good on your CV and you get to attend some of the most spurious excuses for pub-based meetings you’ll ever experience.  A penchant for Tweed is NOT compulsory. Fancy either, or both, roles? Email me at thebeestonian@gmail.com .

4) More Oxjam/ Oxfam stuff. My lovely fiancée is going to be living on £1 a day for a week in April. No, I’ve not squandered our finances in The Crown or bought a ton of corduroy. It’s for a very good cause, and all monies go to Oxfam. It makes the challenge put to Iain Duncan Smith to live on £53 a week seem opulent. I’m dead proud of her doing this, especially as she’s made it clear I can still continue my normal diet of oysters, venison steaks and fine wine throughout the week. Throw her a few quid, please. You can do so here: https://www.livebelowtheline.com/me/eleanorturpin

5) Suits you, Sir Paul: I met Sir Paul Smith recently, and have been asked to write a piece about it for a rather well-known on-line magazine, so won’t bore you with the details. Needless to say, he’s a charming, fascinating man who still loves Beeston a lot. And he’s quite a fan of The Beestonian too:

6) Beeston High Road:Was sent this video recently from local singer-songwriter Jim Dunn. He’s got a whole load of stuff about local issues, which I’ll put links to once he sends them over:

 

7) We’re History: A fantastic article on the changing face of Beeston, some stupendously good research and loads of stuff I was unaware of. A corking read:

http://nottinghamhiddenhistoryteam.wordpress.com/2013/04/04/beestons-changing-times/

 

Have a great weekend: feel the joy of venturing out without skis and a Taun-Taun.

 

 

NOT the End Of The Road: A Review. Now I’ve Recovered and Can Remember What Happened.

Photo courtesy of Lewis Stainer.

A few more notes and thank you for the Street Party. I’ll start with a little correction, however.

It’s been mentioned in a few places that I organised the whole thing, when in fact I was part of a greater team and the true honours must go to Stephanie and Parissa and Greg from Beeston BID; Carly, Heather and Mike from Oxjam and, not least, Chilwell Road businesses who came out in force to show they were alive and kicking.

Thank you all who showed up. Lot’s of people suggested article ideas for The Beestonian, if you were one of them and I haven’t contacted you let please send them to thebeestonian@gmail.com for editorial consideration. We’re just upped our print run by 50% and I’m looking at also expanding to 12 pages, so am looking for good content.

Future Oscar Winning Auteur (with Shane Meadows) -photo courtesy of Christopher Frost.

It was cold, it was windy (I had to grab our gazebo many times when it threatened to lift out and fly to Long Eaton) but the whole event was packed out for the full five hours. A huge thanks to the bands who played and wowed the crowds: my appearance on stage to announce the launch of Oxjam 2013 was less wonderful though: a few words in and I realised, to my horror, my flies were probably down. This was not intentional, more the fact that the heavy duty trews I’d slung on have a habit of being none too secure. Not wanting to draw attention to this terrible thing, I couldn’t wrench up the zipper so instead slowly contorted my hips until my waist was 90 degrees off kilter. How I avoided a hernia is beyond me. My fear of public speaking is still fully intact.

Someone on stage. Flies done up. Not me. Photo courtesy of Lewis Stainer.

I had some very interesting chats with lots of fans of The Beestonian and a fair few who read this blog, it’s nice to know you’re out there. Apparently our MP was there too, and for this I commend her. She also is a keen Chilwell Road shopper, again, I commend her. In this spirit of goodwill I will refrain, for now, for pointing out that the benefit reforms she helped to vote through are the most pernicious acts of class-hatred and putting monetarism before humanity ever enacted in modern British politics but hey! She shops local so I’ll keep schtum.

Once we’d packed up our stall I had a few minutes to warm up and grab a quick snack before I was in The Hop Pole, for the evening’s entertainment. And what a night!

Thanks loads to our acts, all who appeared for free and really threw themselves into it. Things kicked off with a spoken word slot, first, some punchy performance poetry from local Mick Rose, who delivered some fine handwritten lines on Beeston, one which even had a mention of this blog: accreditation if there ever was. This was followed by another local talent, Becky Cullen, who had spent the day asking people at the street party there opinions and ideas: these will be shaped into a poem that we will be featuring in The Beestonian next issue.

Emma Bladon-Jones followed, her guitar skillz, loop-pedal genius and incredible voice wowing the crowd, in particular one fan who may have been a tad Tired and Emotional and whooped with delight at every song, before buying a CD and falling off her chair.

Rosh Rai followed, warning me beforehand ‘I’m not been too well ,and seem to have gone deaf in one ear. This could be a disaster’. It wasn’t. I’ve been following Rosh’s development as a musician for around a decade now, and he’s yet to disappoint.

By now, I had allowed myself a beer so was probably letting it speak for me when I advised people that if they didn’t fill up the collection box we’d bought for Oxjam, we’d be ‘having a lock-in. And not the nice kind.’ I best point out that this is not official Oxjam policy, and nobody was held against their will (knowingly).

Joe Barber, who stunned Oxjam with his slide-guitar heroics at last year’s Oxjam followed, joined by the Guitar Spot’s Jimmy Wiggins for a few numbers. Then we had the magical Phil Langran and Steve Orton of the Phil Langran Band, veterans of the Beeston  music scene and utter heroes for the support they always give Oxjam: they played at our fund-raising Celidh AND another pre-Oxjam fundraiser AND on the day itself. And this from artists who have such a following they are in great demand for paid gigs.

Joe Barber, Britain’s Most Talented 12 Year Old (only joking Joe. And any barstaff that served him booze), and Wiggins.

We finished with 50% of The Leggomen, possibly Beeston’s most fun bands. The lead guitarist/vocalist Brian informs me he’s had ten pints beforehand: his musical partner 7. Yet they pulled off a stunningly rambunctious sing-a-long set, the perfect end to a very fun day.

By then, I was exhausted, and more than a little tipsy. A quick clear up and I strolled home, made myself a chicken sandwich, left it on the worktop for my kittens to eviscerate and slept for a solid 13 hours. Still, what a day.

But let’s not make this a one-off. How about another street party in August? Let’s keep Chilwell Road jumping. Whose in?

Photo courtesy of Lewis Stainer.

NOT the end of the road….a quick thank you.

Wow. What a day. I was terrified, walking up  to Chilwell Road in a blizzard, that Beeston might choose to stay indoors or go for a long souless circuit of Ikea.

But no. You came out to support Chilwell Road, and you came in droves. Despite the biting wind and frequent snow flurries, you packed out the road and made the event a thorough success. Thanks to all those who came over to our stall and said lovely things about the blog and The Beestonian, I’m always a bit awkward when being complimented so sorry if I came across a bit bizarre.

There are too many people to thank right now, but once I’ve recovered (I was awake a straight 26 hours prior to the mammoth sleep I’ve only recently emerged from), I will write a full report on the day, and the evening, where we took over the Hop Pole and put a bill of acts on that showed conclusively that Beeston has more talent on one stage in a local pub than the X Factor has thrown at as in a whole decade.

I will however give a quick mention to Karen Attwood, of Classy Cupcakes, who made a special commemerative cake for us:

and my favourite film director and unlikely Beestonian, Shane Meadows who came along and told me about his new film about the Stone Roses then gamely posed for a photo with myself and a coconut:

Cheers to Chris Frost from the ever excellent http://beestonblog.blogspot.co.uk/ for this.
Once again, you made me proud yesterday, Beeston. Anyone who cynically assumes the concept of community is dead would have eaten their misery-hat yesterday.

____________

Some sad news though, Beeston’s oldest restaurant and a favourite haunt of mine, Beeston Tandoori, has sadly served it’s last poppadom and closed it’s doors for good. Or as the text I recieved telling me put is ‘Beeston Tandoori is no moori’. Not sure why it’s gone, but will find out and let you know soon.

_________________-

 

 

Soubz vs Bercow, Round 2 (at least)

 

Is Soubz ok? I’m only asking out of genuine concern for her. She has a lot on her plate at the moment, with her popularity in Broxtowe at worm-eye view; the reforms to the NHS she supports being universally tore apart by health professionals and her stance on her defining local issue, the Greenbelt, in ruins after her alignment with Rushcliffe’s strategy was rubbished, as I previously reported on here.

Not going well then. The strains are showing. Her ill-judged angry attack on 38 Degrees in her last newsletter has raised the hackles of the campaign group’s legal team, with their legal advisor David Lock QC putting together a riposte. Soubzlogic is backfiring.

Most tellingly, her behavious in the House of Commons is increasingly rabid. She’s had her run-ins from the Speaker before. Back in November, Bercow had to shout her down three times within 90 minutes, as she repeatedly heckled and interrupted against usual Commons etiquette. Highlights incuded Bercow telling Soubry:

‘I don’t want to hear the sedentary chuntering and the finger wagging and all the rest of it.’

‘she can say pooh if she wants….. (but has to) accept the ruling of the chair and either behave or get out of the chamber’.

Bad Soubz. Where do these awful manners come from? A finger of blame can go to her former boss and Health Minister Simon Burns MP, now over at transport. Quite an odious fellow, he too accused 38 Degree supporters of being ‘zombies’, and he too fell foul of the speaker when he called Bercow ‘a sanctimonious dwarf’

Nice guy. But obviously taught Soubz all she knew in proper conduct. It’s a glarring exhibition of Soubzlogic, this absolute refusal to see another argument and if one is presented, to turn into Violet Bott and threaten to “thcream and thcream ’till I’m thick”

It all blew up again last week when Soubz once again spent a debate chuntering until the Speaker rebuked her with a new level of severity:

Ah, sorry, wrong video. Take two:

 

I imagine Cameron is watching this with the same level of concern I am, and will agree that it’s perhaps time to shuffle Anna off to a less demanding job. Maybe head-up an inquiry into that Tory obsession, the erosion of good manners? Just a thought.