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This rubbish business is getting tedious in more ways than one.
Is Hackney council actually running a crack commando team of carton-strewers, chip-wrapper throwers and extruded polycarbon whatsit installation artists? Or should we be pointing the finger somewhere altogether less comfortable? I mean, who put the rubbish there in the first place? Not your little George, madam - the one who just tossed his crisp packet out of his cute little people-wheeler? Sir’s cigarette packet? Fell out of sir’s pocket, did it? And Young Crotch-round-his knees Yoof, over there. That was YOUR can of lager while you were drinking it, wasn’t it? So why’ve you left it balanced neatly on the top of someone else’s wall? Is it a gift, perchance? While the residents of Stokey-les-deux-eglises do indignant at the catalogue of council cock-ups (and god knows, no one would attempt a defence at this late stage), shouldn’t we stop, just for a moment, and ask who created all the rubbish that is or isn't being collected today, next week or early in the New Year if you’re lucky? We’re the ones who buy the stuff and everything it’s wrapped in. Not the council - who after all, haven’t got any money to spend nowadays anyway. So be fair. Let he who is without garbage cast the first wheelie bin. And pick up your own crap, before any more of it blows in my face...
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Is it really the
council’s fault that walking up Stoke Newington High Street or Church Street on a
Saturday night compares very unfavourably with a stroll through Delhi at the height of the
monsoon season? 
