This morning in the Duckett's Common play area with the kids we noticed a LOT of litter.
But as you can see from that movie, the bins were empty. This is not the council's fault, or Veolia's, This is the fault of the peasant neighbours we have accumulated over the years. Well, maybe that's the council's fault.
Here's a selection of photographs. Make your own minds up by all means but nothing at all in these pictures bothers me apart from the fact that the thoughtless peasants didn't think to put the evidence in the bin. It's taking the Michael.
Apart from the dogshit, I had a bit of a cleanup.
Tags for Forum Posts: duckettscommon, litter, rubbish
I just knew someone would get all huffy about the peasants comment! For f's sake, there's clear evidence here, and I would like to call them a lot worse. Drunken scroungers and antisocial, selfish litterbugs being a few phrases.
In order to get this to stop, the council need to spend a lot of money on getting their "please don't drop litter, we don't like it but can't stop you" literature into whatever language we think these people speak. And then they'll just laugh and ignore it. Been there before. Maybe if the cleanup costs were deducted from their benefits they'd stop?
Go on, do your worst, get all pc on me, but deep down you know I'm right.
I just knew someone would get all huffy about the peasants comment! For f's sake, there's clear evidence here, and I would like to call them a lot worse.
As a descendant of goodly peasant stock let me rise to your bait, Anette. My peasant forebears were the world's greatest recyclers, never leaving a scrap of litter behind them. If you really want a worse epithet to hurl try 'landlords' or 'landlord's agents'. The enclosure of the commons (even if Ducketts was never a Commons) was probably what turned 'peasant' into a term of abuse for the urbanised - as happened much earlier to those other marginal countryside dwellers, the pagani and the heath-ens.
"Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates and men decay.
Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,
A breath can make them, as a breath has made:
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroyed, can never be supplied."
Oliver Goldsmith's The Deserted Village.
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