A Call to Arms

Jerry:       

Again with the sweatpants?

George:    

What? I’m comfortable.

Jerry:      

You know the message you’re sending out to the world with these sweatpants? You’re telling the world, ‘I give up. I can’t compete in normal society. I’m miserable, so I might as well be comfortable.’

Seinfeld   View Clip

You see a lot of trackie bottoms round Rotherham. From gangs of young lasses with prams to blokes on the sick with walking sticks- they’ve almost become the town centre uniform. Silent, sullen faces screaming: ‘I give up. I can’t compete in normal society. I’m miserable, so I might as well be comfortable.’

Is it any wonder they think they can take the piss out of us?

How did it come to this?

Rotherham has a lot to be proud of. The coal and steel industries in this area powered the growth of modern Britain. The cannons at Trafalgar, that blasted the way open for British dominance of international trade, were made in Rotherham and the town provided steel for major engineering projects around the world.

Blokes of my late Grandad’s era worked in conditions that we can barely imagine. Laying in darkness on your back, ripping out coal with a pick, knowing full well the whole shaft could collapse at any minute. When you met old miners- they all had bits missing and coughed up stuff that could put a dent in your lino. It wasn’t much better in the steelworks with the unbearable heat and the molten metal sloshing around. All for just enough dosh to survive. This mob sewing Nike footballs in Indonesia these days don’t know they’re born.

Being up against it brought the best out in the people. Throughout the ages- Rotherham folk have stood up for what’s right. The local boys turned out and organised into a rag tag commando unit to defend the town in the Civil War. They held off the mighty Royalist army for two days till they ran out of ammo.

In the 1800s, the Corn Laws fixed the price of wheat and restricted imports. This maintained the old social order; protecting the interests of the landed gentry and pushing up the price of bread for the urban working class. Ebeneezer Elliot, The Corn Law Rhymer, wrote scathing poems that railed against the hated ‘bread laws’. The Masbrough lad’s works became the anthems of the opposition.

Read about Elliot

Uniting to fight against adversity and exploitation built real pride. Real communities. Miners welfares and working mens’ club to provide entertainment and communal gathering areas. The co-op’s; running outlets to cover every need- from your baby clothes to your coffin and burial plot. The unions; wrenching fair wages and decent conditions from the bosses.

1984. The greatest industrial dispute in modern history started at Cortonwood pit (just) in Rotherham. Once again, a hostile invading army came to town and the local people turned out and battled them for two days at Orgreave.

For a year, a whole year, families went without. The women and kids were at the front, supporting their men. They weren’t after more money- they were standing up for their community. For dignity and self respect. For hope; for themselves and their families. These are not figures from ancient history. You still see these people round town everyday.

Rotherham is a doughnut town, suburbs with a big hole in middle. Globalisation and government policy destroyed the pits and steelworks. The world’s most incompetent local authority made the centre look like an out of season seaside resort. Nothing but boarded up windows, charity shops and people shuffling, looking down. A depressing place that there’s no reason to visit.

My Grandad’s generation wore smart suits and limped round town with a swagger. They weren’t rich in financial terms, but they had pride. What they’d been part of meant something. The town centre is now the haven for the industrial working class whose industries have shipped out.

Two generations ago- there were jobs for these people. Real jobs. There are plenty of people doing alright in Rotherham- but they head up the Parkway or the M18 to work (unless they put their snouts in the trough at the offices of the vile junta that is Rotherham Borough Council). Others struggle through with McJobs or short-term, low-end contracts.

Plenty have taken the trackie bottom route and given up. The lack of optimism across the board means many people have let themselves go- including physically. What’s the point in watching your diet if you’re not really that arsed if you wake up tomorrow?

Sure people round here like their naughty treats: pizza and burgers, Mars Bars and Tizer, White Lightning and heroin. However, statistically, Rotherham is not much different to most other post industrial-Northern dumps in terms of health and well being.

Monday 23rd June- sees the official opening of the Jamie’s Ministry of Food HQ in All Saints’ Square. This is an outpost of another invading army that needs to be repelled.

This blog was set to giving a voice to those who oppose this cynical exercise. The intention was to expose the untruths that the programme is built on and to hold the programme makers to account. We also wanted to address the issues facing Rotherham and offer realistic alternative analysis- rather than the self aggrandising gimmicks introduced by Oliver.

That WAS the intention.

The response and support we have received has been unbelievable. The more people learn about Jamie’s Ministry of Food, the more they realise our town is being shafted. Not only that- our spies in the enemy camp suggest that they are in disarray.

WE CAN STOP THIS.

Just think about that for a second. This is our few minutes in the media spotlight. The event that will define our community in the national consciousness.
The plan is: they shoot some footage of collaborators who are willing to “spook it up for da white folks” to get on telly. This is then cobbled together in a way that gives the false impression that Jamie Oliver has started a revolution in cooking which will save the nation. As he rides out of Rotherham to spread the word- the abiding image of our town for the viewer will be a bunch of witless no-marks.

Just imagine if we stopped this show. We have a long history of dissent. Of standing up for ourselves. Instead of doing as we’re told to entertain ABC1 Home Counties women- what if we run this medicine show out of town on a pole?

Which sounds better?

A]

Rotherham; the town where a few dozy twats were taught how to make meatballs.

B]

Rotherham: The town that rediscovered it’s soul. The town that stood up to the celebrity driven, unreality television trash, that shames our so called culture, and said NO.
We are under attack again.

It’s time to burn the sweatpants and stand up for the real Rotherham.

 

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