3 October 2005
Making a comeback after the Crucifixion
Some think that public consultation is a wonderful thing. Of course one of the earliest examples resulted in the Crucifixion, but it was such a good idea that this minor setback was overcome, and it was resurrected.
It is an unusually flexible tool. You can use it when you don’t want to make a decision, as with the Norwich northern distributor road. This might have come in handy slightly earlier, when Jesus asked the powers-that-be what authority they thought John the Baptist had. “We’ll put it out to public consultation” would have sounded so much better than “We don’t know”. (Matthew 21, since you ask.)
You can also use the public consultation tool when you have no intention of taking any notice of the results. This method was pioneered long ago in the Autonomous Republic of Hingham and is now being used to good effect in Norwich, where it has been decided to amalgamate two schools on the Northfields site despite only three out of 50 responses from parents favouring it – and a 200-strong petition from local residents against it because of traffic congestion and road safety issues.
You can simply talk a lot about public consultation and then not use it at all. This happened when traffic planners in Norwich decided to ban right turns from Thorpe Road into Riverside Road without mentioning it to local residents who had to go round in circles as a result.
And then of course, there’s the A140.
After I mentioned some objections to a 50mph limit on the former trunk road between Norwich and Ipswich, I received a message from a woman with an engaging e-mail address that started “OBEYTHELAW” (capitals hers). So clearly a warm human being, but she has the advantage of coming from Suffolk, which, as she pointed out, I don’t.
What has this to do with public consultation? In response to my comments last time Ms OBEYTHELAW (she has another name, but I don’t want to embarrass her) has “got about 40 people to e-mail the council pleading with them to keep the 50mph limit”.
So democracy and independent thought are alive and well in Suffolk.
I’m not sure which category of public consultation that falls under. You’ll have to make your own minds up.
Always use a graceful arc when stoning martyrs
The transition from Christianity to shopping as the national religion went a step further with the opening of the Chapelfield complex in Norwich.
Observant readers will have noticed that it not only attracts people on a Sunday, but it also has a spire. Is this intended as an open challenge to Norwich Cathedral, or is it something more subtle or symbolic – like the gravestones bordering the entrance walkway?
Chapelfield, being a modern sort of place, also has artwork – specifically artwork commemorating the stoning of St Stephen. The stones appear in what we are told is a “graceful arc” – the sort of thing Stephen would certainly have appreciated as the missiles whistled towards him.
“Wow, that’s a really graceful arc,” I can almost hear him say.
One can only imagine how delighted he would have felt if he had known that his sacrifice would have been worth a passing glance from aesthetically-minded martyrs to shopping in the 21st century.
Key to erosion control in gardens near Wymondham
An alert reader has spotted what might be the answer to the ever-growing problem of erosion on the North Norfolk coast.
He points out that there are many chunky concrete blocks – originally designed to hold up German tanks if we were invaded during the last war – simply lying about in people’s gardens.
“When I drive from Hethersett to Wymondham on the B1172 there is one of them in nearly every front garden. There must be thousands of them in East Anglia,” he tells me.
Used judiciously, they would clearly perform a useful function in holding up coastal erosion.
I am a little nervous about mentioning this, as if they are not used for such a purpose, Norwich City Council will quickly buy them up and use them for traffic calming.
My informant tells me that most of the blocks are carefully preserved. Some are even painted, with house numbers on them.
McCorquodales confused by redundant fans
The confused McCorquodale family, who gave up on Norfolk after finding sand all over the place and extensive flooding round the edges, have returned to parts of London, where they came from.
Before leaving, however, they took a trip to the east coast, where they were amazed to find giant fans in the centre of the still-widespread flooding.
“We couldn’t get very close because of the drainage problems,” said John (Corky) McCorquodale last night. “But what on earth do they want huge fans out there for? It’s windy enough already.”
He also felt that it “must be risky plugging them in”.
If you need just the right material, ask an artist
I had always thought of artists as people who sat around painting, in an other-worldly sort of way. Some small involvement for the second year running in the Fringe at the Factory exhibition at the Bally Shoe Factory in Hall Road, Norwich, has reminded me again how far this is from the truth.
Artists are people who spend hours cleaning and scraping walls and floors. They are people who construct vast pieces of work using esoteric materials and then face the problem of actually transporting them from place to place – in some cases actually putting the whole huge thing together on site. They drive large vehicles, or hire vans. Never mind DIY enthusiasts: if I ever need to know how to fix things together, precisely what materials are suitable for what conditions and where obscure but precisely the right items are obtainable, I shall ask an artist. Fortunately, I know quite a few of them now. Incidentally, the exhibition – on till October 9 – is well worth a visit: a massive array of amazingly varied art of all shapes and sizes. Oh, and some other-worldly pictures, too.