Why I WON'T Be Standing As A Prospective Parliamentary Candidate In Bristol, and Will Be In Sth Glos and NE Somerset.

I can see absolutely no point or future in standing as a Prospective Parliamentary Candidate for a city its way to late to help salvage.

Look, I was all set on launching a new site for my political campaign until it seemed one of the dumbest ideas ever as it would carry exactly the same copy as this. So, it made sense to cancel that idea and to stick with what I've got rather than spend time copying and pasting everything I've written so far on 'The Almighty Gob' and adding new material to it elsewhere.

Now that we're here, and there's no 'langley4mp.com' after all, we're both going to have to live with the fact that 'The Almighty Gob' will remain, despite it being probably the most out-there political campaign title and sight (yes, sight) in British politics currently. So there.

There's no political spin speechwriter onboard with me who knows how to say all the right things to have you buy into party politics and promises that may never come to fruition. I speak as I think, no holds barred. You'll either like it, or you won't, that's your choice and you have the free will to exercise that as much as I do in expressing my thoughts. In exactly the same way, if you want to support me, then support me. If you don't, then dont.

The choice is simple, if you continue to want comfortable lies and it brings you happiness then continue to support the mainstream parties. If you are adult enough to want and handle uncomfortable truths, then I'm your candidate. Remember, it's almost part of the job description of any politician to tell what you want to hear, rather than what what you need to know. In party politics it's all about control, and as plain and simple as that.

By now, some of the more eagle-eyed among you will have noticed that while I'm based in central Bristol, the constituency I will be standing in is a few miles up the road in South Gloucestershire, which, with new boundary changes on the horizon will be amalgamated with North East Somerset - a few miles in the other direction. Why am I not standing for election in Bristol then, you may rightly ask? Your answer, putting it as eloquently as I can, the city is fucked! And it took an elected Mayor and a bunch of incompetent Labour councillors to bend it over and do the deed. Royally as well, I might add.

What’s here? Um, well, for a start, and according to the Daily Telegraph (3 May 2024) Bristol is now as unaffordable as London. Hence, it's now become something of a haven for 'van dwellers'. The Telegraph enlightens us further by stating something I never knew, that we're regarded as 'Caravan City'- with some "800 people living in mobile homes and vans."

You know, like an urban Butlins, without the amusements. We have over 16.000 on the council waiting list for housing, while student accommodation licences are handed out to developers willy-nilly. Oh, and whatever happened to the 20.000 houses our former Mayor spouted about so enthusiastically as part of his election campaign in 2016? One moment, please, there's a pig flying past my window I must see! Oops, too late. Gone the same way as our former Mayor, I guess.

Ah well, there are always homes to rent, aren't there? Probably yes, if you can find that castle in the sky for the right price - and could this castle also be the home of that elusive flying pig? Well, it seems anything is possible in Bristol providing you planted that money tree in advance. You see, again this city fails, because according to the Bristol Post (21 March 2024) "Bristol is the most expensive place to rent in Britain outside London". 'Schtum' has been the operative word since that Bristol Post report, so I guess the embarrassment of high rents hasn't warranted further mention. We also have what's reported to be a planning department that would be hard stretched, by all accounts, to plan anything more than a toddler's Lego set construction. Never mind though, there's always a van to live in for those who can barely afford Bristol. For those who cannot, well, there are some quite nice tents, I'm led to believe.

So, what brings people to Bristol, other than a morbid fascination with knife crimes, I wonder? Probably not a one-way ticket to the city, I guess. No, as those with more sense would ensure a return ticket back home. Same day for those who are really clued up. Thus far you may be wondering why I'm still here after putting such a downer on Bristol. Well, truth be told, compared to other shit holes I've lived in over the years Bristol is more Andrex than bits of torn newspaper, to be candid. I really do like the city itself. It's just how it's been allowed to run down since I moved here back in the day - whenever that was.

To me, Bristol has always been a city with a small-town mentality, as far as the local authority is concerned anyhow. As far as I recall, when I first moved here Barbara (now Dame) Janke was the leader of the council, and although Dem Libs weren't by any means perfect, I reckon they were doing a pretty good job at that time. Nowadays, Bristol compared to say Manchester, for example, is still in the dark ages. Admittedly smaller in size and population, Bristol has never been revolutionary in terms of opportunities and development, and while it's done brilliantly in terms of being a popular destination for television and movie filming, as well as the legendary programmes our BBC regional centre has contributed to the world, there's bugger all else here that's noteworthy, apart from a Bridge and a ship.

Admittedly, almost weekly protests of one sort or another parading through the city centre on a Saturday afternoon don't quite square up to the Changing of the Guard at Buck House, but they still provide some entertainment like modern-day urban jesters - albeit with whatever well-intended, and largely misguided, hissy-fit meaning behind their peacocking through Broadmead seeks to highlight. Good for the tourists to snap away at though, as there's little else to take home as a memento of their visit aside from that Bridge, and the Ship.

If you happen to be an LGBTQRSABDEF whatever visitor, whereby say Manchester has a gay quarter, Bristol doesn't even have so much as a gay sixteenth. We did actually have the makings of a Zoo here, compared to a proper one such as Paignton in Devon. Nonetheless, that site is now to become a housing estate, and by all accounts, it will at least again provide further opportunities for the not so well off to take a tour and see how the better off live, on a series of 'This Could Have Been YOU!' guided visits.

The Downs are nice if you want to see yet another of Bristol's illustrious caravan and van parks. I'm just waiting for someone with an entrepreneurial streak to advertise a tour of the many tents scattered around our lovely city. Not quite Dragons Den standards, admittedly, but not too far back another enterprising person allegedly took the opportunity to charge for parking within what was then Bristol Zoo's proximity - AND got away with it! So, there's hope yet for someone with a similar vision.

Okay, what else can I say about Bristol that hasn't already been scrawled on a public lavatory, cubicle wall somewhere? Damn, I almost forgot, the elderly, disabled, and mothers with young children had that facility ripped away from them. No public toilets. Instead, nowadays it's somehow become the responsibility of stores and cafes to do the council's job for them. How remiss of me to forget. Ah well, I suppose, among other things, that's what business rates are for.

So, given we have somewhere close to sod all for visitors to actually enjoy, apart from getting pissed on the Harbourside with its array of bars, what else is there to attract tourists? I know, festivals! Well, for every occasion there appears to be a festival, and for every festival an occasion here in Bristol. If the sun would come out for an hour, somebody somewhere would turn it into a festival. What, no CAZ festival I hear you ask? No, not yet. However, don't hold your breath.

Now, at last, it seems the city has found a way to make up the shortfall for sod all visitor attractions, by raking in money from festival organisers. While I'm no killjoy, and while it brings people to the city, attendees are far more inclined to spend their hard-earned buying booze, food and other essentials on-site, rather than in the citi’s many shops.

Well, except for the annual 4/20 day that's entirely free to anyone who enjoys a spliff, or three. On the plus side, it must be an absolute joy to any unaware dog walker who, strolling through Castle Park at the beginning of poochies walkies will be high as a kite from passive intake within minutes, and be so far gone on reaching Bristol Bridge that if a bomb dropped they'd be standing there admiring the pretty colours from the explosion. Personally speaking, I think this event should be a monthly gathering if only to act as some form of mild sedative for all the kidult, adult nappy-wearing, right-on, sandal-wearing, tree-hugging, muesli munching, quinoa and avocado on toast, oatmeal latte, protesting wankers in Bristol's universities and hipsterville localities.

Did any of that seem a tad unkind, by the way? Not that I care. Just asking.

You see, Bristol is going down the toilet faster than instant relief following a month of constipation. No one living locally either wants or needs to visit the city centre any longer unless they have to, and I think it's purposely being designed to be as such. Why? Because of 'Clean Air Zone' charges impacting mainly on those, I suggest, who can least afford it. Instead, everyone is being encouraged to get on a bus, if you can find one that hasn't had to cut back its service. Or, hop on a bicycle, as so many mothers with multiple children often do with one sitting on the handlebars, another astride the cross frame, and others hanging off her back for dear life while riding on a cycle lane that forces traffic into almost tailgating.

Meanwhile, as cars sit seemingly endlessly at the various traffic lights around the centre and pumping any amount of poisons into the atmosphere, so they say, all is fine so long as the council is making money from those clean air zone fees it seems to do naff all with, except, perhaps, subcontract out whatever needs to be done to companies who happily work for no profit whatsoever, because their kindness and philanthropy give then credentials in a world of net zero bullshit that will be achieved by the time a footbridge is provided from England to The USA if we're lucky. Oh, look! Yet another flying pig.

So, what else attracts people to a city centre with no Debenhams or Wilko, CAZ fees that sting those who can least afford it, sod all other than a bridge and a boat, a zoo that no longer exists - and graffiti taggers who, being nye on the epitome of illiteracy can all but spell their pseudonym? Could it be the potholes that are deliberately left unfilled to further deter motorists by causing damage to their vehicles? Perhaps, even the German Christmas market that's about as German as Putin, and while providing a completely inconvenient bottleneck in Broadmead manages to fleece people faster than a New Zealand sheep farmer on amphetamines gets through a flock of a thousand ewes?

Well, while it's on retail death row there's always the Galleries. Otherwise known as the final nail in the coffin of what was once a thriving city centre. The demolition work and rebuilding will take years, and let's be honest, who during that period would desperately want to visit a massive development site surrounded by a few shops, especially when the popular and hugely convenient Galleries car park will no longer exist? It will take years to regenerate the city centre, if at all. One thing's for sure, it will never again fully recover from what the city centre once was, despite all the developer’s hype of it becoming a super-duper place to live, shop, and work.

Again, it will consist of flats and apartments too expensive for the average wage earner, or renter, and the bare minimum provided for social housing. Offices that will more than likely remain empty with so many people now preferring to work from home, and empty retail units as nowadays it's far easier to shop online and have your purchases delivered to your door from anywhere in the UK, and the world. With only Cabot Cirus remaining, or at least whatever retail premises will be occupied there, all I can visualise is a city centre of white elephants, and a council of bright young, councillors salvaging what remains of the deckchairs on the Titanic, so to speak.

Our new council, elected in May this year, despite whatever aspirations it may have for the city will never recover from the damage caused by the elected members up until now, and I can see absolutely no point or future in standing as a Prospective Parliamentary Candidate for a city its way to late to help salvage.

On this final note, I look forward to standing in the new constituency of South Gloucestershire and North East Somerset. More on this in my next blog post.