And Then, Well, I Think….

Today I did one of my popular TV surveys to test a point I put forward a little bit after a while ago.

To test my point I watched The Daily Politics. I know, how sad can you get? The results didn’t surprise me one little bit which is also sad.

Of the questions asked of the four folk fronting the show, four answers, and I use the word ‘answers’ even though there weren’t any answers, started with, “Well,...” three started, “Well, I think.....” and no less than 33 answers kicked off with, “I think....” There was also a new showing, ”Well, look, I think....” That, believe it or not, was in the first twenty minutes after which I lost the will to watch. 

There you go, nobody knows the answers, everybody thinks what they want to say and they just utter some words loosely related to the question. Honesty would be so refreshing, “Well, I have absolutely no idea, but personally I think......” 

One item with lots of ‘I think’ answers was the high speed train extension. High speed train? Another bit? 33 Billion? Come on, we’ve been here before, it’s a government ‘project’, right? Remember what we said before? What’s the first rule when the word ‘government’ appears in front of any project? Correct. Take the first number they thought of, double it then multiply the result by the first number they thought of. Now we’re getting close to the true cost.  The true cost to who?  To us? Thank you very big.

By the time the first business man climbs aboard this train, ‘couse he missed his flight last night, along with the confused old train buff who thought he was getting on the 3:10 To Yoma, I feel sure, given the pace of technological advances, China or Taiwan or Singapore or somewhere over there, will announce a breakthrough in teleportation - achieved at a fraction of the cost of our shiny new, EU compliant but sadly, in light of this announcement, redundant railway set.

Quote; Kate Griffin. The Midnight Mayor.

I looked at Judith. "This sounds strange, but I don't suppose you saw three mad women with a cauldron of boiling tea pass by this way?"
"No," she replied. The polite voice of reasonable people scared of exciting the madman.
"Flash of light? Puff of smoke? Erm..." I tried to find a polite way of describing the symptoms of spontaneous teleportation without using the dreaded "teleportation" word. I failed. I slumped back into the sand. What kind of mystic kept a spatial vortex at the bottom of their cauldrons of tea anyway?