The car is still in dry-dock.
This may not seem to be particularly startling to many but it does have its practical problems.
Eamon Ryan is the leader of the Green mob, and we are in the unfortunate position where his miserable alliance with the gubment, allowing them to stay in power means that he is making the most of his position of influence And boy is he making the most of it.
During the pandemic he rolled out endless cycle-ways and “pedestrianised” great swathes around the city, pushing most traffic into a single lane or even blocking off already congested traffic routes. His answer to all of this is simple – Go Green.
Ryan is of the mind that any journey under five kilometers [three miles in old money] does not need a car. All we have to do is walk or cycle. Any journey longer than that should be done by bus or train.
He should try living outside his little bubble of idiotic smug complacency.
He should try living in the country.
As distances go, I’m not too far from the village. I’m certainly well within the five kilometer radius so should be able to walk or cycle? It sounds so simple when you are canvassing for the eco-warrior green vote and live on fairly level ground. But let’s look at the practicality of his smug little preaching. I don’t have a bike. I do have two legs but there is still a bit of a problem. Suppose I want to buy something simple, like for example a couple of liters of milk and five kilos of spuds? A small order as orders go but I now have a very heavy bag to lug home. While I live within the “walkable” radius horizontally there is also the small matter of fact that the Manor is about four hundred feet vertically speaking from the village. That is getting very close to heart attack distance in my book.
As it happens, we are well stocked up with groceries having had a delivery on Monday. However an emergency arose during the week – Herself was running low on fags! The problem here was that I couldn’t ask anyone to buy them for me/her on the way through the village because of the cost – we’re quickly approaching the hundred yoyo mark for a reasonable supply and I wouldn’t expect anyone to have that kind of cash in their pockets.
So without a car we would be royally fucked.
Fortunately Very Good Friend called up this morning. She drove me down and back to the fag crisis is averted. But not everyone has a Very Good Friend.
Is it any wonder I nearly burst a blood vessel whenever I hear that steaming idiot Ryan pontificating about his insect eating, windmill powered heaven where we all dance in the meadows to the sound of the skylark.
He really is a despicable, smug little cunt.