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THE PARTY POLITICAL MAP OF WISBECH has been dramatically redrawn by the results of Thursday's County Council Elections. There has been a clean sweep for UKIP in the Roman Bank and Peckover, Wisbech South, Wisbech North, and Waldersey divisions. The margin of victory in Roman Bank was tiny - just 11 votes - but elsewhere it was substantial.
THERE ARE AT LEAST TWO ELECTORATES IN THE TOWN. Many of the candidates are prolific bloggers and Tweeters and have a Facebook presence. Some have their own websites. Debate on such sites as Wisbech…Oh Dear is intense and can be vitriolic. And yet, and yet. The turnout for this election, on a warm and pleasant May day was pretty poor. On Wisbech..Oh Dear, there was little but disdain for the local Conservatives, but UKIP is regarded with deep suspicion, particularly over its links with far right protest groups. So, did we online gurus get it wrong? Was there a large group of off-liners who had simply had enough?
ROMAN BANK & PECKOVER. This was, for me, the biggest surprise. For all that his Rottweiler approach to discussion and challenge has made me shudder over the last few years, no-one can fault Steve Tierney in his work for his division. He has managed what appear to be complex business interests with tireless appearances at parish meetings and local surgeries, and seems to have always made himself available to people. And yet he is beaten by someone who wrote a virulent and unpleasant letter to the local paper on the vexed subject of immigration.

WISBECH SOUTH. Simon King was another casualty. He was clearly not one of the Wisbech Tory 'ratpack'. He seemed to keep himself to himself, and was unafraid to involve himself with issues which his party colleagues distanced themselves from.On a personal level, he worked very hard to get a school place for the daughter of one of my adult students. The girl has learning difficulties, and had been without a school place for a long time.

WISBECH NORTH. Samantha Hoy was the 'junior' of the Conservative team, both in age and years in post. She won the seat in a by-election in 2010. The online world was lit up by daily reports of skulduggery and dirty tricks. It was rumoured that Dave Patrick (Lib Dem), who had come second in the 2009 election, had stood aside to give Virginia Bucknor (Ind) a clear run. There were constant claims and counter claims between the two ladies that each was doing the other down. In the end, both succumbed to UKIP's Paul Clapp, who had come second in 2009. A footnote should be a word of love and praise for Dean Reeves. He continues to represent Labour in the town, in the teeth of constant knock-backs. If there were any way in which politicians could be appointed rather than elected, he would be a shoo-in. He is a lovely, kind and principled man who deserves better from his adopted town.

CONCLUSIONS? It would take a better political commentator than this one to make sense of it all. That the estimable Gordon Gillick claims that he never knocked on one door, never posted one leaflet and never made one phone call, and is still 'swept to power' perhaps says it all. I have no idea what UKIP did right, but I have a good idea what the Conservatives did wrong. Firstly, and perhaps most forgivably, they failed to distance themselves from their disreputable and discredited political masters at Westminster. The impression was 'Party first, local people second.' Secondly, with exception of Simon King they got it totally and utterly wrong on local issues. Yes, the business of the derelict buildings is principally a District Council matter, but as County Councillors they had influence. And power. And a strong voice. Did they use it? No. The constant mockery of efforts to move things forward on resolving the 'Belfast Building Bombsite', the constant mantra of "This is a lovely town, there are no problems, you are all just too negative," may have been loud, but it was an empty echo. The demise of the preposterous Nick Clarke will hopefully see the end of the 'smoke and mirrors' Wisbech 20/20, which has brought us - correct me if I'm wrong - a few brown signs. Thirdly, the very public cultivation of a triumphant, gleeful Tory clique of town, district and county councillors has sown a bad seed. The seed has grown tall and blossomed into a thriving young tree. My advice - stop slapping each other's backs. Stop leaping to each other's aid on Twitter, like tag-team wrestlers. Stop dancing to the same distorted tune. Think for yourselves, and listen to what ordinary Wisbech people are worried about.
THE CASE OF THE MISSING EDITOR. And finally. Twitter people will have been enlivened over the last months by the constant cut and thrust between John Elworthy (editor of most newspapers in East Anglia) and his targets (mostly Tory councillors, it has to be said) He has taken Sam Hoy to task over her employment record, and Steve Tierney over…well, more things than I have room to mention. But he goes deathly quiet  a week from the election. His Twitter account is suspended. He is alive and well. Fellow hacks have reported his presence at events across the region. Tweeters have suggested he has been got at by none other than the former leader of Cambridgeshire County Council. This is unconfirmed rumour. It may be true. It may be a tissue of lies. But when I lamented his passing on Twitter earlier a certain (ex) councillor replied "good riddance". Which was a lovely song by Green Day, if memory serves. Bon Nuit.

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CHICKENS COMING HOME TO ROOST. This strange phrase has always puzzled me. I have kept chickens on and off most of my adult life. Chickens are among the most loveable of birds, yet probably the most foolish. They possess no great beauty, no amazing powers of endurance and no science-defying navigational skills. They are usually breathtakingly stupid, petty, quarrelsome and insanitary. But we love them for their flesh and their eggs. Of course they come home to roost. If not, they will be eaten, nastily and in a bloodthirsty fashion by the fox.
Quite how the humble chicken and its nocturnal habits came to be a metaphor for human misdeeds returning to haunt the perpetrator is lost in the mists of time. Via the miracle of the internet I can tell you that Chaucer said, in The Parson's Tale,
"And ofte tyme swich cursynge wrongfully retorneth agayn to hym that curseth, as a bryd that retorneth agayn to his owene nest." 
(No, that's not a screenshot of your daughter's latest text message, neither is it a quote from Wisbech Immigration Issues Facebook page) In later years, the Ancient Mariner shoots an albatross, as you do, but finds that his deed comes back to haunt him.

"Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung."

"To-day we have naming of parts." Ermm, no, sorry. Today we have my visit to Wisbech Market. Or what is left of it. I drove to Somers Road car park, hoping to find the odd free bay. Instead, I saw a vast expanse of empty tarmac. I could actually have landed my luxurious private jet there, and not come near another vehicle. There was room for my six corporate stretch limousines to park end to end without causing an obstruction. I locked the car, and walked up into town. Thank God there was no wind, because the tumbleweed blowing in from the desert would have bowled me over. The Market Place was a retail Marie Celeste. There was the brave lady selling fruit and veg, the excellent Russell's Meat stall, and the rather random stall selling birdseed and reconstituted artificial dog bones. And Rout's Fish Stall. That oasis of good taste, good sense, good humour and bad gossip. Mrs Finnis had served about six people all day, and was at her wits' end. I bought fish from her, some lovely ham from Franks butchers, and fled to the deserted car park.


BUT THERE IS NOT A PROBLEM. Such accounts as this are regularly discredited. Certain of our elected (well, some of them) representatives claim that I am negative, destructive and "part of the problem". Their joy at the sheer vibrancy of Wisbech's central business district is unconfined; no positive outpouring of praise is too extreme, and no rose is too pink to tint their glasses. They throw out (or should that be 'up'?) exciting visions of late-night bistros, citizen street patrols and arts centres, a vibrant pavement culture - 'The Town That Never Sleeps'. But what do they actually do? They refuse to support the only independent initiative which seeks to question Fenland District Council's inertia over the derelict buildings which continue to blight Wisbech. They ridicule and mock efforts to try to restore our town's infrastructure. When challenged online, they behave like a shabby and sweaty tag-team of wrestlers, leaping in to defend each other when defeat looms. And when one of their number faces an electoral challenge, they stoop to underhand tricks, media manipulation and  a little economy with the verite. A bit obscure? OK. Telling huge porkies.

YOU MAY ARGUE that local politicians are not responsible for the retail malaise which afflicts so many High Streets up and down the country. Say that more powerful economic forces are at play, and that our town is just another victim of a global problem, and I will not argue with you. But tell me that the current crop of County Councillors (with one very notable exception - am I allowed to name Simon King? No? OK then, I won't). have engaged fully in community efforts to revitalise Wisbech, and have cast aside party politics in the best interests of Wisbech residents, and I will call you a fool and a knave. I would not be so presumptuous as to tell you who to vote for, but the last four years of inertia and complacency have taken their toll. IT IS TIME FOR A CHANGE!

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I realise that this has little or no relevance to Wisbech, but someone may read it, and If they are affected by my words, then they will not have been entirely wasted.

Margaret Thatcher has died at the age of 87. A frail and lonely figure , plagued by dementia, and isolated by the death of her husband, she cut a sorry figure in recent years. Her death has divided the nation as successfully as it did during her eleven years of office. The usual Wisbech suspects have been tweeting their hearts out in her praises. As well they might, despite the fact that they were either babes in arms or schoolchildren when she was in power. That is an insignificant barrier. The wonderful irony of party politics is that it is totally Orwellian. 'Two legs' is good. 'Four legs' is bad. And this applies to ends of the spectrum, Left and Right.

Let me state my credentials to comment on her passing. During Mrs Thatcher's reign, I was a young taxpayer, husband and father, trying to make an honest living. I was Mrs Thatcher's nightmare - educated and hopefully enlightened, but working in the public services. Which had rules. And regulations. And codes of conduct. For some reason yet undiscovered by historians or psychologists, Margaret Thatcher was obsessed with the destruction of codes of conduct. Of responsibility for others. Of concern for the 'little guy'.

She was gifted with cartoon opponents. President Galtieri of Argentina was a pathetic and opportunist general whose lamp faded as quickly as it flared into life. Michael Foot, and Neil Kinnock were well-meaning but inconsequential Labour party leaders. It would be an exaggeration to say that she had them for breakfast. It was more that they were a dusty tube of sweets at the bottom of her handbag, which she occasionally snacked on.

She was destroyed by her own party. She never lost an election. Politicians are only loyal when they feel their own seats are safe. If they feel threatened, then they lash out, turn nasty, and seek scapegoats and alternatives. It is safe to say that I would trust a party politician no further than I would be able to throw a concert grand piano. Your trust in them may last the hour, but don't put your mortgage on it.

So, an elderly lady is lionised and vilified. She made Britain 'great' again. She' destroyed my community.' But she is dead. After years of life with a carer and a rather bored attendant police officer, a stroke has consigned her to the classification of being a late Prime Minister. My message to the haters is simple. Let her go. She is gone. God bless her. Whatever good or evil she wrought in her lifetime has long since passed. If your only words are full of venom, then please hold your tongue.
 

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IT MAY BE THAT THE TOXIC COCKTAIL THAT IS WISBECH PARTY POLITICS is no more poisonous and vile than anywhere else in the land. I would only say that there are two full months to go before the County Council elections, and if our would-be representatives carry on at this rate, they will need to follow the hapless Gazza to his American rehab centre. This cartoon is from a bygone age but, with a little embellishment from myself, just about sums things up.  

WISBECH PARTY POLITICS

 I WAS SADDENED TO READ that our town Post Office may be on its last legs. But every cloud has a silver lining. One of the acquired skills in my late and unlamented management career was an ability to talk fluent bull***t. Thus, nasty things were not challenges, they were OPPORTUNITIES! So, as we speak, and as the sheets of stamps and tax discs, and bundles of currency are being boxed up to be traded from a Portacabin somewhere out the back of QD, we must rejoice that the shelves, chiller cabinets and vegetable racks for yet another 24/7 convenience store and off-licence are being assembled. No doubt one or two of our finest dignitaries will be penning their supportive speeches for the day when the licence application comes before the district committee. And while our Cambridgeshire coppers bang their heads against the nearest brick wall about this lunacy, we can be thankful that the signs - promised to us by the visionaries at Wisbech 20/20, have finally arrived. They will leave the visitor to our fair town in no doubt what kind of cultural experience awaits them.

 

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FURTHER MUSINGS ON SPRING, SNOWDROPS AND EMERGING BLOOMS. Despite yesterday's ravings, I want to reiterate something I said in an earlier post. It is utterly pointless to blame local politicians for the failings of a succession of national governments. Yes, I said it. Don't blame town, district or county councillors for the immigration mess. They are here to serve us, they will tell us, on local issues . BUT - and this is a skyscraper of a BUT which will loom over all the other tower blocks in Butville. The May election will not be about purely local issues, regrettable though that may be. It will be about frustration. It will be about people feeling hurt and bewildered that they are not being listened to. It will be about lashing out. It will be about sending a message. And it will not be a pretty message in a scented envelope. 

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We have had a few spring-like days, and along with the snowdrops, certain other species are pushing their heads up towards the sunlight. No, not daffodils, not just yet. I'm talking about an even more fragile and threatened variety - local politicians (electus incompetens) You might question the unseasonal appearance of these delicate and rarely seen blooms - but had it escaped your attention that on May 2nd, 2013, there will be elections for Cambridgeshire County Council?

And so the gloves are already off, certainly in terms of political cliches. Battle lines are being drawn, the electorate is to be consulted, favours are being called in, positions are due to be clarified, canvassing is amazingly encouraging…Are you still awake? Yes? Well, there is much more to come. No promise will be left un-made, no vitriolic dart in the direction of the opposition will be left un-thrown. No badly-spelled slur or counter-slur will be left un-posted on Facebook, and no Tweet will be un-retweeted.

Saturday saw an impressive display of handbag swinging over the right to campaign in Wisbech Market Place. In the yellow and purple corner was a redoubtable lady from UKIP, who is determined to deliver Wiz from the clutches of the evil migrants, and in the blue corner were two feisty dames of the Conservative persuasion who were prepared to lay down their lives for….erm….hang on….. give me a second ….ah yes!…for the right to have everything stay absolutely the same, with no-one breaking cover or suggesting anything remotely resembling change. There was even a territorial dispute about who could sit on which bench, and who could speak to who, and anyway, it's OUR Market Place, so push off…! Immensely edifying, and a tribute to the timeless legacy of political debating skills. No, actually, forget that last bit. It was more like something off Little Britain. The most treasured remark from one of these Tory ladies was regarding the derelict buildings of Wisbech. "Oh, they'll sort themselves out," she said. Of course they will. Why didn't I think of that?

A planned march to protest against immigration is not due until after the May elections. So what's the point of that? Not a lot, really. It will only serve to infect open wounds. No one in their right mind welcomes another unchecked wave of migration from Europe's answer to the Third World - Romania and Bulgaria. But what's to be done? Cameron's pathetic speech earlier this month was less a throwing down of the gauntlet, than an elderly lady forgetfully dropping her lace glove. A huge political conundrum opens up. Vote Labour or Liberal Democrat, and very soon all border controls will be relinquished, and we will actually be offering grants to folk from Papua New Guinea, North Korea and Iran to come and  colonise our high streets and doctors' waiting rooms. Vote UKIP, and you will probably split the right wing vote enough to let in the Labour Party. Vote Conservative and…mmm ….just let me check…Got it! Nothing very much will happen, rich people will get immeasurably richer, and the deserving poor will be put in laundries to wash and iron the toff's shirts. AND our membership of the EU will go unchanged, because we don't have migrants in Whitney, thank you very much!

So what to do? Pickwick offers no solution, no panacea, no easy fix. A sudden death…? Early-onset Alzheimer's Disease…? A private health-care lobotomy? An undetected meteorite striking PE13 with massive casualties? A misdirected North Korean nuclear test missile? Who knows. All of these may be favourable alternatives to the shabby individuals who will be scratching at your doorstep pleading for your vote over the coming weeks and months.

A final request. Do not vote for, talk to, shake hands with, or fart in the general direction of ANYONE who does not use capital letters appropriately, cannot spell, or is confused over the correct use of 'their', 'there', 'its', 'it's', 'of', 'have' and other things people should have learned by the age of eight.

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WISBECH HAS BEEN STRUCK BY TWO TRAGEDIES in less than a week. An elderly woman, Una Crown, was brutally stabbed at her home in Magazine Lane, and then set on fire, presumably in at attempt to conceal the crime. As I write, the police are working to solve what appears, on the surface at least, a vile crime without motive.
Then, while residents were reeling from the Magazine Lane murder, Saturday morning saw a massive police presence outside the Hare and Hounds on North Brink, a popular drinking spot known to most locals as 'The Dog'. We knew that a woman had died and there were early suggestions that her death might be drink or drug related. By Monday, it was revealed that the dead woman was Virginja Jurkiene, 49, of Oakroyd Crescent, Wisbech. Dainotas Doblys, 48, has been arrested and charged with murder, and two counts of rape. Virginja had a history of alcoholism, and an abusive father and husband. A colleague at the Rosmini Centre described how she had been at the centre just the previous week, and staff had tried to help her with various issues.
As the dreadful story played out over the social media, there were some frankly shameful comments along the lines of, "well, thank goodness it wasn't a local woman," and "this was a lovely little town before the immigrants got here."
There were calls for an anti-immigrant march, along the lines of one recently held in Boston, and another planned in Spalding. The barbed and witless comments continued to fly on Facebook. There was then a telling and courageous intervention from someone whose views and approach I have not always shared. Samantha Hoy weighed in on Twitter with

 "I am a Eurosceptic but please do not blame immigrants for governments allowing them to be here, they just want a better life."

As much compassion and common sense as one will ever read on Twitter, I believe. She continued to fight her corner against the bigots on a Facebook thread. Later in the evening, Steve Tierney - someone else with whom I rarely see eye-to-eye - took up the cudgel on behalf of reason and decency. Both of them should be commended for fighting their (unpopular, but totally correct and decent) corner.

As I have said before on this blog, it is utterly pointless to blame local politicians for the 'immigration problem'. The terms of the current EU treaty allow anyone from member states completely free access to otter countries in the union. In January 2014, it will all get worse, as residents of two of the most disfunctional and economically bankrupt countries in Europe - Bulgaria and Romania - will have unhindered access to Britain. Someone posted earlier - and I have not checked this out - that the average monthly income in Romania is well below a month's Jobseeker's Allowance in the UK.

MIGRANT LABOUR is nothing new. Neither is the exploitation of vulnerable groups of people. As a volunteer at the Rosmini Centre, I see the dark side. The migrant as victim, not villain. Sadly, the villains are more than likely not to be swarthy cartoon gangsters from Albania, but urbane and well-educated British citizens. In no particular order, then, my list of culprits.
(1) The chain of exploitation from rich farmers to unscrupulous gangmasters. The result is often that migrants are working for well below minimum wage. They may have to surrender their passports just to get work.
(2) Shadowy UK property owners and landlords who turn a blind eye to their rooms and houses being sub-let. They are putting up a vigorous resistance to a move to have ALL UK landlords checked and registered.
(3) The mindless Europhiles of all political parties who cannot comprehend the stresses and strains that unfettered immigration from the EU imposes on fragile local economies.
(4) The local planning and licensing authorities who relentlessly and recklessly grant drink licenses to corner shop after corner shop, in the full knowledge that street drinking of cheap liquor  by unemployed and hapless Eastern Europeans is a constant thorn in the side of those who are working hard to make our town centres friendly and safe places to visit and shop.
(5) The moronic collection of ex-skinheads and football supporters who make up the far-right 'political parties'. Do they really think that their sloganising and violence will have the slightest effect on anything, anywhere? And I have to include their diametric opposites, that feckless collective of failed beards and muddled idealism which typifies the far-left.


ALL GOOD MUSIC-HALL ACTS SHOULD FINISH WITH A SONG. And there is mine, but 'Give Me Sunshine' it is not. It is by Woody Guthrie, and refers to a plane crash in 1948, when a plane bearing migrant Mexican workers crashed in Los Gatos Canyon. The dead workers were never named in the press - they were just called 'deportees'. Virginja Jurkiene was not a deportee, neither was she a victim of the state. Two facts link her to the dead of Los Gatos. Firstly she was referred to as 'just another migrant'. Secondly, she was attracted to a foreign land by the idea that she could find a pot of gold at the end of a mythical rainbow.