Post Office

This Saturday (May 5^th) I will be campaigning in Richmond High Street against plans to close the Post Office on George Street. There’s something wonderfully British about the Post Office experience. In the age of email, standing in a queue for half an hour to send a letter remains a surprisingly popular experience.

It’s exactly the same reason why most people choose to buy train tickets at the ticket office instead of buying them online, or why we get to a nightclub at 11:00pm when the queue stretches for miles, instead of 10:30pm when no one is about.

Queuing is a human right. Magna Carta enshrined the right to a fair trial, the Post Office enshrined the right to queue, and I’ll do just about anything to protect that most British of rights.

And of course part of the political mantra these days is the much chanted ‘no rights without responsibilities’. Well that’s all very nice – we have a right to queue – the Post Office has a responsibility to provide us with that right. Sounds perfectly logical right?

Wrong. You may have the right to buy a beautiful girl a drink, but that doesn’t mean she has the responsibility to sleep with you. Rights and responsibilities may have become buzz words in the New Labour and Conservative mantra, but in the real world the girl will accept the champagne and ditch you as quickly as possible.

The Post Office is no different, they have the right to take your money, but they have no real responsibility to provide a community service. You may think they do, but they don’t. The harsh reality is that they are a commercial organisation like any other. That doesn’t mean we should stand by and let closures occur, but rather it means we should stop taking the service they provide for granted.

If we want to save the George St Post Office, we need to accept we do not have a natural right to the service they provide, and they do not have a responsibility to provide it, because romantic notions of serving the community no longer seem enough to help us win the battle. The only way we can win is if we can persuade them there is a commercial case to stay open.

Cloned Britannia

Alright so maybe you’re one of those bible belt Christians preaching about the evils of Dolly the Sheep and GM foods, but you don’t need a fluffy animal or an overly perfect apple to demonstrate the dangers of cloning.

Just take a walk down Richmond’s High Street. Boots, Strada, Zizzis, All Bar One, McDonalds, Next. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture.

The reality is that we are all becoming engulfed in a monotony of retail hell symbolised ever so eloquently by a woman slapping her own arse in satisfaction at how cheap the Turkey Twizzlers were in Isle 2.

So what’s a week like in Richmond these days? Well on Monday you could start off with a trip to the video store (they’ve all been renamed Blockbuster) and get out a violent epic called Demolition Man. It’s set in the future and every restaurant has become a Taco Bell. Surely not!

Then on Tuesday why not try the cinema? These have all been renamed Odeon with the notable exception of Richmond’s Filmhouse which is frequented by men who think their dates will be impressed by subtitles.

(French if you’re looking for romance, Spanish if you had something more saucy in mind than a coffee in Starbucks after the film)

On Wednesday why not stay in and get pissed. You can buy a few beers from an off licence. These have all been renamed Threshers, Victoria Wine, Wine Rack and Bottoms Up. Before you get too excited about this diverse spectrum you may wish to know that they are all owned by the Threshers Group and the prices are rigged like a 1970s oil cartel controlled by JR Ewing.

How about Thursday? You could get plastered at your local Irish Pub (these are all currently being renamed O’Neills). If a wine bar is more your scene these are now all known as All Bar One.

Alright so by Friday you’ve probably had a bit too much to drink and need to soak up the alcohol with a burger. Well burger restaurants used to be called Tootsies, but these days they’re more commonly known as Gourmet Burger Kitchen.

So on Saturday you want to relax. Well’s that’s okay as you could try the Jacuzzi in a local sports club. These are in the process of all being renamed Esporta or David Lloyd.

Then on Sunday, it’s a day of rest so you’ll probably just put you’re feet on your sofa (these are now only available at a shop called Ikea which is located in some godforsaken place off the North Circular).

You may even watch some TV. There’s a great choice. Drama on BBC1, which is then repeated on BBC2, rescreened on BB3, and then eventually shown as a documentary on BBC4, and finally sold of to ITV1, to be repeated on ITV2 etc etc.

By the end of your week a world full of Taco Bell’s sounds just a little more plausible. So welcome to Richmond!

The Thin Green Line

A few years ago I carried out an early morning rail survey at Kew Station to find out what people thought of the District Line, and I have to say I was more than a little flummoxed by the response. ‘Great service’, ‘very reliable’, ‘an excellent direct link into London.’ Surely some mistake….

Of course the problem with the survey was that I assumed that the primary function of the District Line was to get people from Richmond to Westminster. I only later found out that the slow and often unreliable service provides the commuter with an excellent chance to read volumes of philosophy on their way to work. A faster service would make this impossible, which is why Crossrail was viewed with such disdain.

You may think I’m joking, but I’m not. What do you think was the single biggest issue in the Richmond and Twickenham Times Letters Page over the last year? Airport expansion, crime, the environment, tax? Don’t be daft, it was the question of whether God exists.

So does God exist? Well as a proselytizing atheist my answer is a categoric ‘no’, but then again if I thought long enough about it on a return journey to Upminster (the better part of three hours), even I might be revaluating my answer. The point is of course that whether God exists or not is somewhat academic, since what is ultimately important is that we have the time to make up our own minds on this and other vexing philosophical quandaries effecting Richmond’s body politic.

And what of other issues like crime and health? Well we’ll leave that to those who commute on the fast South West Trains service to Waterloo to discuss. As for me I’m off to Hammersmith for lunch now on the only thing I can find slower than the District Line, my old racing bike.

Electric Avenue

‘She’s electric, she’s in a family full of eccentrics, she done things I never expected and I need more time.’ Okay so this probably isn’t how Bamber Gascoigne described his love of electric cars to Richmond’s Council Leader Serge Lourie, but the famous Oasis track has a surprising resonance.

I mean seriously, have you seen a G-Whiz? It looks like something Uncle George might use on the golf course after a glass of Tio Pepe. Eccentric doesn’t come even close to describing the thing. It’s almost like a strange sort of fetish. Then there’s THE Toyota Prius, which seems to be permanently parked outside of Waitrose in Richmond’s town centre. I’ve looked elsewhere around the Borough, but I don’t seem to be able to find any others. It’s not surprising really. It looks like something David Bowie might have driven in The Man Who Fell To Earth.

So whilst Uncle George and David Bowie may revel in new age electric travel, the rest of us wait in vane for an electric car that looks normal, elegant, cool, sporty, anything other than Noel Gallagher’s family of eccentrics.

Of course there’s always public transport and cycling. Last night I decided to mix these on a trip to the Spaniards Inn, but like drinks, transport routes are dangerous to mix. Firstly I took my bike on the Silverlink, which makes a stroll through the Bronx look like a walk in the park. Then when trying to get off at Hampstead Heath Station I practically decapitated an innocent bystander because the train was so overcrowded.

Ten minutes later I received a call from my friend in the pub asking where I was. Halfway up the f***ing hill,’ was my frustrated response as a greying pensioner in a Porsche veered round me at about 60mph. What kind of a prat needs a Posche to race a pushbike? In Hampstead it seems a popular sport. Oh well, at least I wasn’t overtaken by Bambi in a G-Whiz, I don’t think I could have faced the shame.

Taste The Difference

Nine chicken nuggets, a large chips and a coke please. These days eating at Richmond’s McDonalds is about as taboo as admitting to having voted for Mrs T. If you want a Big Mac you have to pretend to be Humphrey Bogart out of The Big Sleep, donning a large trench coat to avoid detection by Richmond’s allotment mafia.

Yet I remain an unashamed advocate of the benefits of junk food. Just think about it. Since the introduction of junk food in our schools, exam results have increased year on year at an impressive rate. In fact US research published in The British Journal of Public Economics clearly showed a direct correlation between a high calorie diet and improved exam performance. This was based on a computer-based analysis of the nutritional content of school meals.

Unfortunately though, the nation has been brainwashed by folk law hero Jamie Oliver who claims that junk food reduces concentration and causes obesity. His strong academic case is based on the careful placing of words like ‘pukka’ and ‘wicked’ in his arguments, which are demonstrative of the careful methodological approach to his research.

So where are these fat kids who are void of concentration? I thought I’d do some research of my own. I started by observing passengers on the R68, but unfortunately I couldn’t find any of Jamie’s super sized kids desperately trying to squeeze on to the seats. I then went for lunch at McDonalds this time expecting to see teenagers the size of guests on the Ricky Lake show, but instead they all looked positively scrawny, and perfectly healthy.

Alright I admit that my somewhat haphazard approach to qualitative research may be a little flawed, so lets just assume for a minute that Jamie is right and children are suffering from poor concentration and increased levels of obesity. Is he right in thinking that junk food is the cause? My answer is adamantly no, and here’s why!

Firstly children are suffering from a lack of concentration because; wait for it, school is boring. Government after government have rejected a vocational approach in favour of useless, outdated, and uninspiring subjects. We need economics, not maths, engineering, not wood work, IT classes which teach web design and content management rather than providing a simplistic analysis about what computers do and how mail merge works. And as for trying to learn French using Tricolore Text Books, or Science using Nuffield ones, in the words of John McEnroe ‘You cannot be serious’.

As for obesity….. Well as children have become cleverer they have finally started to realise that team sports like football are utterly pointless. After all playing football at school requires about as much strategic planning as a trip to Tescos. It’s therefore not surprising that many children instead spend their time using Playstations, which require logic, skill, and strategic thinking without having to run around like a headless chicken in a muddy field. So the real reason for obesity seems far more likely to be lack of exercise.

And who is to blame for this? I reckon it's that yummy mummy in the 4x4 dropping James off to a school which is only a 15-minute walk from home as she’s on the way to tone up at the Richmond Hill Health Club. You see if children cycled and walked instead of being taken every where by car or using public transport to travel 50 meters down the road, than like me they could indulge in as much junk food as they want. Blaming junk food for obesity is a bit like shooting the messenger when you should be shooting yourself. All right so perhaps that’s a bit morbid, but in the words of the cult TV program, ‘Honey We’re Killing the Kids’.

Kew Politics and Philosophy Society

This week sees the launch of the Kew Politics and Philosophy Society by local resident Anna Donohoe. The Society will meet once a month to discuss a book or film within the context of current affairs and international events.

Is political theory relevant to current affairs?

What makes a just war?

Is stable government more important than religious freedom?

A return to consensus. Is partisan politics dead?

Most of all though - a sociable informal fun event for people interested in politics and current affairs. If interested, please call Anna on 07963 898 012 for more details, or email annar-2006@hotmail.co.uk

Flying High

'How does a man with a cathode ray tube living in a tower block know how to milk a cow?’ That was the rather cryptic question asked of me by an elderly gentleman propped up at the bar of the Railway Tavern in Mortlake at the weekend. Just in case you were wondering what the conversation was about, it was Lib Dem tax policy.

You see Richmond is a bit like Wisteria Lane from the cult series Desperate Housewives. On the surface it’s a disturbingly perfect, beautiful neighbourhood, but scratch a bit deeper and nothing is quite what it seems. Behind the facade of normality is a Borough full of philosophers bordering between genius and insanity.

So Richmond isn’t exactly your typical London neighbourhood, and campaigning in Richmond isn’t exactly a typical experience. Hence when I organised a street stall against airport expansion at Heathrow, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that when a dishevelled looking tramp approached, he wasn’t going to demand 50p for a coffee. Instead he lectured me for 30 minutes on aviation fuel technologies, providing a fascinating incite into the aviation industry.

Unfortunately, whilst our Borough’s Oxford educated homeless population are more than aware of the problems with airport expansion, my new German neighbours were apparently oblivious to it.

You know the pitch, ‘It’s a lovely quiet street sir, great area, beautiful parks, have you heard of Kew Gardens… world heritage site. Yes just sign here.’ Well that’s what happened to them, only the agent ‘forgot’ to tell them that Richmond is directly under the flight path to Heathrow.

So we now have a fifth terminal currently under construction, plans for a sixth terminal, a third runway, and an end to runway alternation (which means that planes could take off and land on the same runways massively increasing capacity). What does that really mean? Well that’s up to you. Many people have said to me, what’s the point? It’s a losing battle, why should we bother doing anything?

I have to say I’m increasingly fed up with this defeatism. If BAA get their way we will have a plane every 90 seconds passing over Richmond. That means you won’t even be able to hear a whole song on the X Factor without it being interrupted at least twice, though perhaps that’s no bad thing.

Seriously though, if you have spent a few too many hours watching the Learning Zone due to 747 induced insomnia, why not contact local independent campaign group HACAN and ask what you can do to help in the fight against airport expansion. A link to their site is provided on the right hand column of this page. Alternatively if you really can’t be bothered, there’s always double-glazing.

What not to wear

At a party on the weekend in Kew, one of the guests after a few pints enthused to me about what a cosmopolitan place Richmond is. Initially I thought I had misheard him. Richmond is about as ethnically diverse as the Royal Family, white with plenty of Germans.

But you know he may be right. Richmond may not be as multicultural as Southall or Dalston, but most people living here talk about multiculturalism with great enthusiasm. Sure it may be a little token - after all a trip down to the Cafe Marsala for a mixed grill is hardly demonstratative of a cosmopolitan lifestyle, but its the thought that counts. Oh and the mixed grill is pretty good just in case you were wondering.

So that brings me on to the topic of my first blog, 'what not to wear'. Over the last week, Jack Straw's now notorious comments on the burka, have led to a string of opinions on what you should and shouldn't be wearing. So what better than a guide to what's hot and what's not on Richmond's George Street.

Well to start with short skirts are out because they might offend our burka wearing friends, so if you're heading off to Edwards please cover up. But don't cover up too much since according to Mr Straw, leading fashion critic and part time politician, burka's are also out. What's a girl to do?

As for the men out there, this week hoodies are also out, so if you're off to O'Neils for a couple, just put on a v-neck, as apparently this will help you communicate better with the barman since he will be able to understand what you want from your facial expression. That's a smile for a Guinness and a frown for a lager, and a sort of contorted half smile is you'd rather a pint of bitter.

However, don't worry, if you vote Conservative, than you can keep your hoodie, as apparently it will make you more huggable, so you may have a better chance of pulling. But don't go near the fit bird with the designer sunglasses in Henry's. You see sunglasses are also out this week, as they are also a barrier to communication.

Seriously though, just how is it that Mr Straw can believe that a burka is a barrier to communication? Does this mean that he believes that people can't communicate over the phone since they can't see each others faces? What about communicating through literature? Perhaps Jack thinks Shakespeare shouldn't have bothered. And what about the blind? Are they incapable of communicating with people because they can't see?

And finally, do people really wear their views on their face? Just imagine if they did - we would immediately know if someone fancied us just by looking at them. Sounds great doesn't it? But the trouble is this is purely science fiction. If Jack Straw honestly believes he can communicate with someone better simply by looking at them, than I'd love to know his secret!