The ‘Pearlies’ have been part of London life since 1875; young Henry Croft, uh, came across a large colleciton of mother-of-pearl buttons (the stories are confused, at least according to wikipedia). He was a costermonger (street vendor) and they gave some added vibe to their suits with mother ofpearl buttons. With his hoard, Henry Croft pimped his suit as much as feasible:

There’s a Pearly King and Queen for each of the boroughs of London, as well as for the City and Westminster. These days, they mainly do stuff for charity, go to Jools Holland’s Hootenanny for NYE each year, and pimp around the east end. Read more about them on their ’site.

Demonstrations start at 11am under the following guises;
* Moorgate
Red horse against War;
* Liverpool St
Green horse against Climate chaos
* London Bridge
Silver horse against Financial crimes
* Cannon Street
Black horse against land enclosures and borders in honour of the 360th full circle anniversary of the Diggers

My initial reaction was that due to the syncronisation of the ‘parades’ people looking to be involved will have to chose between anti-war, anti-climate, anti-finance or whatever the fuck the last one is supposed to be. Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if, say it was just Black Horseman was left on his Jack because everyone else threw their weight behind the other causes?

For those of a less civilly disobedient bent, there’s a timely exhibition at 187-211 St John Street, called “Affluenza” - which should go someway to highlight some of the causality of our current predicament through the medium of art.

Also on this nostalgic meander down memory lane perhaps memories of certain bastions of good teaching pop into our thoughts. Personally, I had an economics teacher who not only seemed to be the unquestionable heir to Adam Smith’s liberal economic throne but also had a tash that was reminiscent of a Colombian drug dealer in mid-80s Florida. Whilst walking this path of yesteryear, along side the bastions of good teaching you no doubt come across the bastards. The teachers that if put in front of a psychologist would clearly offer enough morsels of madness for the good doctor to feast upon for many a year.

The reason for my peek into PGCE land is that I was shocked to hear the Conservatives’ plans to give up to 200 ex-servicemen and women (who hold university degrees already) free university places to train to become teachers. Now the more you look into this policy, the more you realise it’s a very precise measure i.e. targeting a specific population of individuals who have already left the army and offering them this opportunity. The first question that came to my mind is; I wonder if anyone has actually asked these 200 people if they actually want to be teachers!?

It does conjure up images of ASBO teens vs ex. SAS. It’ll be like a modern day Alien Vs Predator with the ASBO teens wielding knives, toking on bongs whilst the ex. SAS stride confidently into battle with pristine boots and a fuck-off big rifle. Eat your heart out Michelle Pffeifer.

I can imagine the scenes now, picture it, Year 7 Geography…

Teacher: “Adams, where is Iraq?”

Adams: “Stop sweatin’ me blud, innit”

Teacher: “YOU DON’T KNOW!? Drop and give me 100. (Cue vomit-inducing pro-war babble followed by storming out of the room in some form of flashback/shell shocked vibe).

Adams: “Merk, Merk”.

Michael Gove (the shadow schools secretary who is also incidentally, a weasel) suggests that classroom behaviour may improve as a result of the measure (I didn’t know the Tories had got in a distant relative of Sherlockfucking Holmes!?). Perhaps this is an insight into Gove’s thinking…

For LULZ check out the reaction to it in the Daily Express comments section.

“This town, is coming like a ghost town
All the clubs have been closed down
This place, is coming like a ghost town
Bands won’t play no more
too much fighting on the dance floor”

Lyrics there from Ghost Town by the Specials, which, if you replace ghost with eco, may prove an ominous prophecy for the future of Eco Towns. Listen to the track here:

[See post to listen to audio]

For a blast from the past, click here to listen to Harry J and the Allstars, Liquidator).

What would Captain Planet make of the proposed ‘Eco Towns’ in the UK? Well, I think he’d wouldn’t be too bothered because if he were real, he would now be getting epically BD with the growing hoards of eco-conscious ladies in the UK. Captain Planet would be getting laid on the scale of George Best in the 70s, as the environment has justifiably nudged to the forefront of the minds of those well-off enough to have a choice as to what car they drive, where they source their vegetables and an ability to buy bags that are anything but free plastic bags.

I have digressed from the outset, what I actually want to consider is the following statement from Hegel in the context of the ‘New Towns’ of the UK and the proposed Eco Towns;

“What experience and history teach is this-that people and governments never have learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it”

Under very different circumstances (i.e the conclusion of the second World War) the government made moves to reconstruct the UK against a backdrop of a country with a changing economic composition (certain industries growing, some dying) and a people displaced through the attrition of the War. This led to a program of developing New Towns (predominantly in the South East) with stellar line-up including Bracknell, Basildon, Stevenage and Harlow. There was then a second and third wave of ‘New Towns’ (between the 60s and 70s) including places such as Milton Keynes, Skelmersdale and Northampton.

The fortunes of these New Towns have been as varied as the response you might get from the government  when questioned on their stance on Eco Towns. At the one end of the scale you have towns such as Skelmersdale, Welwyn Garden City and Basildon that either feature or were nominated for inclusion in The Idler’s infamous “Crap Towns” book. From personal experience, Skelmersdale is really quite a grim place, with roundabout after roundabout which has developed a grim and dark undertone which you might expect considering it lives in the shadow of Liverpool, which despite it’s undoubted importance to the UK, has struggled somewhat over the last 30 years to cope with the sector shifts in the UK economy. On the topic of Basildon, apparently the locals have taken to calling a certain part of town (which I assume is akin to some sort of Essex Sin City) as ‘Bas Vegas’ . This reminds me of my home town Torbay, which the locals have taken to calling Torbaydos (the similarities are negligable although Torbay does have some of the highest incidents of bankrupcy, teenage pregnancy and lowest wages in the UK).

On the other end of the scale you have Milton Keynes (much maligned by the masses but admired by many ‘in the know’ such as town planners, architects and business leaders) and Bracknell which have massively exceeded the population targets set for them and will no doubt go from strength to strength over the next 20 years.

The point of showing the diverse fortunes of the ‘New Towns’ in the context of Eco Towns and Hegels quote is that the government should heed these examples (and one of the main maxims of property); it is location, location, location which is important here. In the context of Eco Towns, it is actually “location, location, location” squared. Firstly, the government needs to be forward-looking in deciding where these eco-towns are going to be; what is the UK demographic going to look like in 20 years and how do Eco Towns fit in? Secondly, the government needs to be forward-looking in terms of industry; where Bracknell & Milton Keynes have succeeded is the fact that they are replaced to act as a alternative or secondary location for the London-centric service industry. What industries are a ‘good-fit’ with Eco Towns and where should they be located to benefit from this?

By their very nature, Eco Towns will be a major step in environmentally conscious living and if done properly, should allow the UK to demonstrate to the rest of World what is achievable. However, the challenge is really to make them economically sustainable i.e. to be desirable for people to live in and to be desirable to industries (of a suitable nature) to want to locate near.

Note, it’s actually Rollercoaster Tycoon on the Atari. But seriously, Theme Park was epic

Cowards die many times before their death

Shoreditch hasn’t always been packed full of languishing artistes, whining musicians and general “cooler than thou” fuck tools. Some of it’s famous former residents include Jeremy Beadle (RIP), Barbara Windsor (watch the infamous Carry on Camping scene here) and none other than William Shakespeare. In fact, if the Bard was still around today he’d pretty much be the next door neighbour of the Irregulars and we would no doubt be big buddies, pulling all nighters dancing to victorian electro mash ups.

As a hat-tip to the ruff-sporting maestro, a number of performance are planned at the Old Blue Last this month. Drop by on either 2,9, 16, 23 or 30 August to be immersed in some wordsmithery which will far surpass the usual sub-normal lyrics that spew out the mouths of the bands who normally take to the stage at this venue. Check out some tickets here. If you fancy a quick read of some of his handiwork, the complete works can be found here.

No doubt the fashionistas of Shoreditch will shortly be sporting this tasty little number…

Facebook, I have a message for you delivered straight out of Compton…

I’m more sanguine about the whole scenario to be honest, I think we’ve been living large for the last 10 odd years and could do with a period of sleeve-rolling in order to put things in perspective (I’m a firm believer in the importance of Schumpter’s theory of Creative Destruction or as Sombart put it “again out of destruction a new spirit of creativity arises” – according to Wikipedia anyhow).

However, what I’m less than happy about is reading that the government are planning to spend £3 million of taxpayer’s money on a funeral for Margaret Thatcher. This has baffled me completely. The Labour government have shown time and time again that they have the foresight of Russell Grant when it comes to policies and particularly the economy, yet now when it comes to burying the plundering former leader of the opposition they are all over it like some avant garde dance troupe. What astounds me is that she’s not even dead yet! Can you imagine how the minutes of a meeting of the cabinet must go:

• Economy: action – deferred until Q4 (we haven’t got a scooby on this one!)
• Knife crime: action – take perpetrators to hospital to see victims (minute updated: actually don’t)
• Eco-Towns: action – employed Wayne Hemmingway (yeah the fashion designer) as a designer (what the fuck!) to add some credibility to the cause.
• Obesity: action – appointed a new Tzar of Chips & Fizzy Drinks, John Prescott.
• Death of Margaret Thatcher: action – eagerly anticipated, so much so let’s plan a £3m party/funeral!

The government has clearly run out of ideas and conviction, it’s a sad State of affairs, quite literally.

Have a look at this clip from the satirical genius of Spitting Image…spot the difference between then (the early 90s) and now.

Click moar for the lyrics

Dad believed what Maggie (Tony/Gordon) said
Get a mortgage buy a home
So dad took out a great big loan
For a while there we were chuffed
Now the market has collapsed
And we’re absolutely stuffed

Our house, in the middle of a slump
Our house, no one wants to buy this dump

Dad is desperate to sell
But now our homes worth even less
Than a pension from Maxwell (share in Northern Rock)
Our living room’s a mess
Full of magistrates and bailiffs
Trying to repossess

Our house, in the middle of the boom
Our house, it was worth a small fortune
Our house, left us in a dreadful state
Our house, why the hell’d we decorate

We really caught a cold
Nowhere we can go to now
All the council houses have been sold
Our dads taken some stick
He’s still voting Tory (Labour) though
By God he must be thick

Our house, didn’t work out like we planned
Our house, prices dropped by fifty grand
Our house, threw us out and changed the locks
Our house, it is now a cardboard box