Thursday 31 December 2015

Delivering the Message.

Wednesday 30th December 2015 was a good day.

It  didn't start well, it turns out that some Tories may have been a bit racist in the 80's and that the government ignored it's own advice on flood defense spending.

Facebook, twitter, the news. It really didn't matter where I looked that morning there seemed to be mysery and duplicitous behaviour all over the place. It started with a retweet from Dianne Abbott. For anyone who is interested she's the shadow minister for international development and a woman I admire but at times just wish she would open her peepers and shut her mouth a little more. Anyway, this was all about how Oliver Letwin had written a very disparaging briefing to Margaret Thatcher blocking money for black youth initiatives after the 1985 riots. He basically said that young black people would only spend it on discos, drugs and Rastafarian craft activities which would of course be a waste of money.

So, that was then, now this condesdcending sod has been put in the cabinet office. Responsible for goverment policy he worked with insurers to form a response to flood crisis and assist those homeowners and businesses on flood plains-which I am sure is very comforting to those who have to board a canoe to take the rubbish out tonight.

It would seem though that Mr Letwin didn't quite follow through on the whole plan, instead he decided that businesses shouldn't be included in Flood re and closed the programme just weeks before storm Desmond wreaked havoc on the north of England. We now have storm Frank's floodwaters too and an eerie feeling of foreboding for the prospects of the chancellor's Northern Powerhouse folly (seriously, how do you deliver that when you let industies like steel fail?).

The absolute last straw came while I was in the kitchen. The TV mumbled THAT line, ....a stronger economy blah blah... It makes my blood boil every time. Bare faced lies, rehearsed and spouted by weak minded clones!

I had to turn over to something that made sense. I put the muppets on. The Muppets have some new characters and one of them started singing about caring and sharing.

Right then with that stupid song stuck in my head I was finally motivated and suitably informed of the day's biggest stories. I grabbed as many of the calendar gifts & ward newsletters as I could stuff in my bag and I delivered them. Before I knew it I was pounding the streets chanting "Caring... and sharing..."

Now I've delivered ward newsletters before but never with such an array of Muppets in my mind. The images of ruined farms, stranded livestock, waterlogged shops and convenience stores. Beachfronts, roads and promenades washed away by angry rivers and seas still played on the TV back at home. Every alert that shook the phone in my pocket to some other description of powerlessness and suffering seemed to make the chant more meaningful. Caring and sharing, caring and sharing, caring and sharing. CARING AND BLOODY SHARING!

I have never been so grateful to live in Redlands.

As I pushed an array of essential information through letterboxes I think I finally understood what Corbyn and McDonnell have been spouting.

It's me! I am angry, but I don't need to shout. All I need to do is take a well formed, useful and fair message to my neighbours house, pop it through the letterbox and let it do it's job.

I took a message and I delivered it. It spoke about promises met for schools, ambitions for westminster, essential information and contacts, local organisations and small businesses, local budget challenges and above all it showed how the Labour party IS different. How we can be more than just fodder for the food bank or zero hours employer. How if we invest now we can save ourselves from mysery later.

I get it, I am an activist!

I'm going to keep on being an activist, this year is all about Tony Jones and making sure he stays right where he is, forming the message, so that I can share it with my neighbours.

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