The man with the golden scroll

There was idle talk sometime back of moving this column back to its original place by Monument Bridge but, surprisingly, wise heads prevailed and it's staying where it is. However this being the year of culture the scroll, held for so many years in old William Wilberforce's right hand, has been given a coating of gold leaf. So if your click on the picture to enlarge it and peer, possibly with the help of a magnifying glass, you might just about make out the most useless adornment to a statue in many a long year.

Live, Work, Play

or push a pram.

The lamps are going out

Actually these lights are being thrown out as part of the grand makeover. There was a small heap of them outside BHS. I hope they're going to be sold on and recycled somewhere.  Here's one in better times.

The weekend in black and white is here.

The Flensing

Here lies the cold carcass of Holy Trinity Square scraped clean of history, of character, of any interest whatsoever. It's as if an old  familiar face with  laugh lines and creases has been botoxed to oblivion so there is no possibility of a smile. Deathly dull doesn't begin to describe it. Two and a bit years ago I said this would be "a tacky, crass and short sighted act of vandalism"; I've not had reason to change my mind.  A sign on the church door says the place is closed while it is being transformed into a coffee bar and in the Summer there'll be small reflection pools (reflecting the sheer emptiness of the place I suppose). I can't wait.

There's seating and then there's these things as well.

Life's little mysteries

So just what is this woman doing staring so intently at the ground in the newly townscaped Queen Victoria Square? I know but I'm not telling, the mystery to me is why she'd bother ...

The theme for the first day of February is Loving Life.

The best seat in town

Tourists are flocking to see the latest city of culture installation on Trinity House Lane. The work, sponsored by a local public house, is constantly added to and occasionally subtracted from but will remain a feature in the city through out the year. I think it's a strong statement of the conflict between high ideals and base reality. I highly recommend it.

Hull says NO! So Trump Won't Go!

Here in the dark of a January evening a collection of banner wavers, delusional socialist wannabes, imps, pimps, banjo players and just plain old fashioned passers-by have collected in Queen Victoria Square to demand that SOMETHING MUST BE DONE about that awful Mr Trump and his evil acts.  There was lots talk of building a socialist alternative and fighting American Imperialism all drawing the appropriate Pavlovian applause response. I hear he keeps a close ear to the ground and worries so much about how well he's doing down on Hessle Road and the Avenues, so this grand demo will greatly irritate his ulcers and boil his piss I've no doubt.

Seriously though Mr Trump  the duly (and newly) elected head of state of a foreign country is getting up everyone's nose at the moment He might be doing something right then, but it's not my circus and not my monkey as they say these days. But it not just American noses, no sir, well it wouldn't be would it? The self-proclaimed liberal luvvies have got to show themselves as "doing" stuff so they hold these little demos sprouting up over the country, all utterly meaningless and just an excuse for the same old tired inane claptrap to be spouted forth. But the irrelevancy doesn't stop at few demos; oh no.  There's currently a petition to Parliament  (that's the UK Parliament by the way just in case, like me, you were wondering what the hell it has got to do with us) with over 1.5 million signatures saying Mr Trump should not be allowed to meet the Queen! Ye Gods! I would have thought that making him meet that wizened old brood mare was a suitable punishment for anyone but no, he must not shake hands (or anything else) with Queenie or the world will end or some such nonsense. Now as this pathetic little country is seeking a trade deal with the good old evil US of A what chance do you think that petition has, hmmm? I expect Brenda will be told to get her knee pads out, moisten her royal lips and grin and bear it.