Wirral Waters – otherwise known as “Shanghai on the Irish Sea” – HAS DIED

tweets between me and andy bounds of financial times on wirral waters for foi request

 

So someone’s been telling porkies.

Was it Wirral Council or was it the Financial Times?

Well, the Financial Times has absolutely no incentive to lie to me and nothing to gain or lose.  Whereas abusive Wirral Council has lots to lose.  After all, NONE of the local papers ran with this story.  No, they adopted radio silence, and it was left to the Financial Times to break the bad news.

Why would that be?

Because the Wirral Globe and the Liverpool Echo are now paid up bedmates of Wirral Council, rammed up their backsides, along with a number of other Merseyside councils who are all bent over, vaseline bottle in hand, trousers down, clutching their ankles and “awaiting input”.

Rather than serve the public with objective journalism, they’ve opted to self-censor, to not report embarrassing or scandalous news, and to go for an easy life.  They’ve allowed themselves to become captured by Field, Foulkes (the dead hand on the tiller), Davies, Davies, Jones, Mooney, McLaughlin, et al.

Consequently it’s the public who lose out because we’re now getting lied to via a rabid propaganda conduit that is either forced through our letter boxes or stacked up in our newsagents.  And some of us are still stupid enough to  fork out good money in exchange for the shite.


 

Anyway, I placed this FOI request on 3rd February this year:

Statement Confirming the Death of “Shanghai on the Irish Sea”

Wirral came back with a load of warmed over bollocks, masquerading as a ‘response’.

I naturally lodged an internal review request, as you do, and they came back with some more half-baked bilge.

To summarise, although I’d asked for lots of details about costly Chinese expeditions made by an unknown number of highly-paid senior officers who jetted off to China, starting as far back as 2008, they came back with what amounted to shit.

As for the request for this press release, within which a council admission had been made that the game was up and China had pulled out, it looks like they chose to lie, rather than tell the truth and be embarrassed or risk identifying who’d made the pathetic admission.

But this is the traditional, defensive, cowardly, paranoid mindset of this toxic creature.  Put your hand out in a friendly gesture, requesting co-operation and it shits in your palm.

When cornered, the beast circles, snarling, resentful and ready to take the fingers off anyone fool enough to approach it.

Anyway, to hell with it.  I sent the following email today and hope the beast takes time to read it carefully, then looks up, takes a long look in the mirror, ponders its miserable countenance, asks itself, “What the fuck have I done with my life? How did it all end up like this?” And then dwells for a while on its own obstructive, dishonest, pisspoor, bullying behaviour.

But I seriously doubt that this mendacious throwback is capable of any constructive introspection.  It’s simply too far gone now, and way too diseased and pock-marked with syphilis running sores to function normally or to muster more than a snarling denial, never mind respond with good will to its paymaster.

So here’s the email… we’ll hopefully be back soon with a response from the lying beast.

Wirral Waters FOI request February 2018

About Wirral In It Together

Campaigner for open government. Wants senior public servants to be honest and courageous. It IS possible!
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2 Responses to Wirral Waters – otherwise known as “Shanghai on the Irish Sea” – HAS DIED

  1. Bobby47 says:

    Down here, at the bottom end of the A49, where if you shout Dad everyone turns round, the Council embroiled themselves in a similar wild, crazy, deluded and highly expensive venture that only ended when the Ukraine,happily for me and other tax payers, decided to have their Civil War and destroy any further hopes of them spending more of our money on foreign travel, Consultancy fees and a whole raft of other ways to waste our diminishing pile of wealth.
    For some reason, years ago, probably after consuming great handfuls of psilocybin mushrooms, the bastard Council decided that the Ukraine might want to build their weapons factory down here and have our youngest and brightest sat on a production line building component parts and fit them into a huge bomb that’d eventually be dropped on the heads of people who were simply minding their own business whilst their Government had decided to make war against some place who’s name nobody could properly pronounce let alone point to on the global map of planet bloody Earth.
    Course, when the Ukraine descended into chaos, and it became clear we wouldn’t be able to build this impressive bomb, the whole bureaucratic beast of burden, the bastard Council, went quiet, never gave the matter a backward glance and there was never ever a single mention that we’d spent a huge wedge of cash wining and dining the same people who had the technological know how to build a bomb that the Council had claimed would create a thousand jobs and wealth beyond our wildest dreams.
    And it’ll be the same outcome for the Wirral. You’ll never know how much was spent, who bloody spent it and where the cash was haemorrhaged. God help us all. We’re bloody doomed!

  2. Bobby47 says:

    Truth is all these jaunts to foreign lands are nothing more than a ‘jolly’ which we pay for. There’s the great pile of paper our travellers produce to Cabinet that moreorless says, ‘we’re going on a trade mission to create you all wealth, a thousand jobs and millions in savings’. Then there’s the meetings that sanction the bollocks where they gather together, nod their heads affirmitively and give their blessings to those lucky enough to get their flights, hotels and expenses paid for whilst we all sit there waiting for the inevitable outcome. Absolutely fuck all! Nobody really expected anything other than fuck all. Nobody ever believed they’d come back with anything other than fuck all, and unless the travellers used a little entrepreneurial spirit and began flogging Wirral Tea Towels from a suitcase on the steps of the local market, nothing other than fuck all was anticipated once they’d returned to Blighty and reported back to the nodding heads who sent them on the jolly to fly, feast, drink and talk bollocks to a group of people who really couldn’t understand why they’d bothered to fly half way across the globe for fuck all.
    Course, at the root of this bollocks is it’s possible to hoodwink the Council and the people by talking bollocks. It’s all so easy. Mention foreign lands, foreign investment, a thousand jobs and an opportunity to do something slightly exciting and being told this’ll make us millions, and Bing, Bang Bong you’re on your way sat in business class, giggling your heads off planning a week of getting pissed, probably masturbating and hopefully alone watching the Adult Channel in your four star hotel room hoping that when daylight returns you’ll find some twat with a business card who might just say, ‘I’ll be in touch’.
    T’is the season soon for MIPIM at Cannes and once again thousands of Councillors and Council Officers from Blighty will board their flight, arrive in sunny France, talk bollocks, win responses from their listeners that amount to absolute bollocks, fly back and report ‘we’ve had some tasty nibbles from foreign investors’ and then we wait. We wait and wait for the inevitable and highly predictable ‘Fuck All’, which, given the nature of the Game and the consistency of the final outcomes that have been before, Fuck All is what we expected before they ever decided to embark on their ‘jolly’.
    Bloody Council! Cut me grass. Sweep me streets. Water me hanging baskets, fill in me potholes and collect me bloody rubbish that I diligently recycle over and over again so that it can be collected, crushed and shipped out to foreign shores and get dumped in someone else’s backyard resulting in this crazy deluded need to travel to foreign lands and talk bollocks.

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