Wednesday, August 01, 2007

History of the Blackberry























Chapter One
In the 1957 Blackberrying meant packing some Ginger beer with a few school mates and cycling into sacred shimmering Summer England to enjoy a day of scrapes larks and Black berries . The chums will almost certainty have attended Grammar school and even at the tender age of thirteen be able to laughingly recite Keats back and forth to what we would now call A level standard. Several admiring girls might be allowed to come and they would sit prettily clapping the good natured games of daring the boys play . They are treated with scrupulous chivalry and shy admiration. Finally the tousled dark stained angels will return for tea and mummy will make jam. It is an Edenic land and they little know they are singing out its elegy with their high pure voices

Chapter Two
In 1968 West Indian immigration had added a new note of fear into English life . Enoch Powell’s Rivers of Blood speech injected hatred into the skin of the politiy where it has grown like a forbidden stench ever since . The white working class saw then that their communities were above all threatened by the newcomers and “ Black-burying was the gallows humour of the Teddy Boys as they caught the tube over to Notting hill intent on violence which sputtered from the riots of the late 50s . Chains knives and fists are the weapons and they do not have it all their own way.. Can we see in the words of the East enders a grim reminder of the rural roots their soon to vanish urban villages sprang from ? Many blacks were indeed buried , whites too.


Chapter Three
In 2007 Blackberrying is the sharp “Hot spot “ gangs hip flip word for mugging suits for their blackberries . This South London world of violence and drugs is fuelled by the fatherless befits policies of the Labour traitors . Malignant rat eyes peer from hoods to avoid the CCTV at potential victims in broad daylight.. They too have bikes on which a gang of twenty recently hunted down and shot their victim while he tried to hide behind a tree .Girls dressed to ape US whores sell sex in a bestial pecking order called “ respect”.




I shall take my son out of London and we will go and pick Blackberries together.

7 comments:

Ed said...

Society is indeed sicker than ever. But what may be best for your son may not be best for the overall community..!

When all the good people have gone, where does that leave the inner city? I am determined to stand my ground but then I don't have anyone dependent on me.

mutleythedog said...

I went blackberrying last night Mr N! With me lovely daughter ..am I the last of the innocents?

Newmania said...

Eitherc you are innocent or deeply guilty Mutley I have never been quite sure

Anonymous said...

Many of those idyllic villages are still there, newmania.

There's a cluster of them around Wicker Basketville - the sedate, wealthy market town of Saffron Walden. They've been ring fenced from damaging development by devious politicians.

No development here, these influential nimbies cried. Bung all of the development on Harlow. As a former new town, Harlow's got a nice bendy legal structure, he, he, so it's tailor made for a much hated, unelected and undemocratic quango to seize power and ruin the town and it's green wedge. Eh, Harlow's on a flood plain, you say, development will flood it? Well, who cares. Anyway, land's cheaper there and a wellplaced government quango could lay its hands on a nice little wedge of that and sell it for a huge wad.

There are other little spoiled clusters too, but these lie on marshy flood plains which have always periodically flooded massively and with much devastation. However, it won't be long before this grasping government claims that even these hugely high risk areas can be safely developed with the new, Mickey Mouse, SuDs eco-technolgy.

Auntie Flo'

Newmania said...

I`m moving to Lewes Flo , which is quite pretty still. I dread what this country is going to look like in a few years and immigration continues to rise . there is space.

Overpoulation used to be a perfectly respectable subject prior to the realisation by the PC lobby tht the groups overpopulating were not indigenous . Now it is unmentionable

a luddite said...

I grew up in Lewes and a nearby village during the '60s and it was much as you described in Chapter 1. In those days we lived on our bicycles. It is the car that has probably done the most damage to that lifestyle.

Newmania said...

Still a keen cyclist myself Luddite

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