I was driving in a town near me the other day and kept reaching the traffic lights next to a security van. Time after time it was me and the security guards looking into each others vehicles (my car is a 4x4 so they could see me and I them). This carried on for four or five sets of lights around the ring road and I felt like they were looking at me and becoming suspicious - not that I routinely look like a gangster or ne'er do well but I had been out the night before with a friend and was unshaven and hungover so probably looked a little rough at the edges to say the least. If only they knew I was at that very moment listening to Wham's Greatest Hits in my car! I'm guessing this is hardly your average gangsters choice of music while on the job.
I got to thinking what is statistically the most significant day of the week for security vans to get done over / blagged / held up - you choose the dialect and accent depending on where your from. There must be a specific day that more vans get done over than any other? Friday's, and this was a Friday that I am speaking of, have got to be up there as a prime candidate? End of week wages blags and all that? And, taking this further, there are probably regional variations in preferred days of operation of the scumbags, preferred vehicles and methods of operation.. Now, if you could collate all that information into a database and analyse it spatially you would have a great - and profitable - line of business. Advising the security firms of when to go out, what to look for and which vans to have tagged and followed by others/Police etc?
Or, given the millions involved in this line of business, maybe this already happens?
Anyway... onto something a little lighter... as if! This week I am finally going to dig out my copy of the Ruthless Rap Assassins 1991 release Th!nk - It Ain't Illegal Yet. One of my all time favourite UK conscious rap releases, and all done in a flat in Hulme - now sadly (in a strange way?) pulled down and 'regenerated' into an entire district of Lego houses all resplendent with an array of 'To Let' or 'For Sale' signs on them, inhabited by grey students whose only act of rebellion these days is ordering the Grandé Cappuccino at Starbucks not the Regular, or perhaps sprinkling a little more cocoa powder on there than usual? These kiddies would shudder at the thought of the student squats that used to stand where mummy and daddy have bought their little box in the city, sorry I should use the term apartment. There, does that make you feel better for paying so much for it?
The link is this. The Ruthless Rap Assassins, three black kids who grew up North Hulme, Manchester in the 80s wrote some amazing lyrics about how life was getting a little duller each day, people's minds becoming numbed by everyday celebrity tat and how the US and UK governments (along with many other of their cronies) was marauding the world in the honest name of capitalism and democracy! This was 1991. This was the age of the Gulf War. Who knows what happened to Anderson, Kermit and Carson (and if you do, please get in touch as I'd personally love to buy 'em all a drink and ask them to start writing this stuff again) but their lyrics are now more salient than ever in describing the trajectory that this country has found itself on.. from the students who now live their Wi-Fi broadband-enabled Diesel-clothes-clad lives where the Assassins flat and those of others such as A Guy Called Gerald once stood to the countless hordes of suburban families in Barratt Homes feeding off a diet of cheap Tesco food, Hello! magazine, Celebrity This And That on TV and shopping centres filled from floor to ceiling with all the latest stuff you never knew you didn't want.
I'm not a Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here..
Here's a short excerpt of those lyrics written at the emergence of the 90s housing market crisis, 1st Gulf War and post-Poll Tax/Public Utility sell-offs please do take time to think, it really ain't illegal.. yet..
excerpt: Think (Hinds/Hinds), 1991
Britains in a mess because the government stinks
Does anybody care what the poor man thinks
Interest rates rising 'til they can't rise no more
You know the shit was heavy 'cos they started a war
You know who got the blame, they called him insane
But just who was it sold him the weapons and planes
The National Health's in trouble, lack of money is why
But still they spent millions sendin' people to die
Too many people scared to stand up and rebel
You listen to the government and you buy what they sell
They made the cuts and the nation bears the scars
Sold power to the people when the power was ours
And now you're an owner but something ain't right
'Cos if you don't pay your bills they still cut your light
Companies going under and the government say
To keep inflation down that's the price we have to pay
They sold shares in gas and telecon
Most people on the street couldn't get none
Worked like a slave to buy your own house
But when you heard the shout you were gettin' thrown out
Got no bread, can't afford the water
Can't meet the bills at the end of the quarter
Poverty is hell and most are on the brink
You let it happen 'cos you didn't stop and think
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