The Neverendum

Well now two days after the end of the world as we knew it and everything still seems to be going along just dandy. The markets fell then rose to level higher than before the referendum (hardly the financial Armageddon predicted by the remainers). We're still in the EU in case anybody thinks otherwise (despite being told by Mr Juncker to pack our bags  and leave, now, instantly, go on get lost!). We've still got a Tory Government although it is now completely dead in the water with no mandate for Brexit, no Prime Minister and no real majority in Parliament and no respect in the country. The opposition is threatening to rip itself apart again in yet another meaningless leadership challenge (but no-one is listening to them so this doesn't really matter). The Brexiters have admitted (to no intelligent person's great surprise) that their ridiculous claims on immigration and spending on the NHS (£350million a day or was it a week? I wasn't paying them so much attention) were a complete pack of lies. Despite, or perhaps because of, all this the debate-cum-slanging match continues. The losing side now want a re-run referendum ( "We lost, it wasn't fair that we lost". You know the sort of thing that losers say. Perhaps a best of three option will keep them quiet, who knows?). Scotland is making those old fashioned independence noises again (or could that just be bagpipes), the Irish problem is threatening to become a real problem again. The young are thinking themselves betrayed by the old (t'was ever thus). London wants to remain in the EU by a massive margin and what London wants it by and large gets.

Oh and these damn silly flags are still flying. 

Like I say, dandy.

A strange day

I took this on my way to vote in the referendum (voted 'Leave' since you ask because, as is well known, I'm a delusional, knuckle-dragging, xenophobic, racist, piece of shit; yes, the eloquent insults of the losing 'Remainers' still flow ...). Appears even the weeds have UKIP's colours ... It's not every day you have a vote to leave the EU and the PM resigns with a self-inflicted shotgun wound to his foot ... interesting times.

Wake me when it's all over.

When you were young did your mother ever tell you not pick at scabs? That itchy scraped knee with its red crusty wounds just ached to be scratched and picked at only to bleed and start all over again. Well for forty six years the Conservative Party has been picking at its European scab till the damn thing became ulcerous with more than a hint of gangrene. Today the pustulating boil will be lanced and much good it will do anyone. The level of 'debate' has sunk to hitherto unplumbed depths. It's all lies, hyperbole, unbelievable scaremongering and idiotic name calling from both sides (of the Conservative Party!). As for Labour ... well it's a good job no-one is listening to Labour any more; best not to intrude on private grief.

Frankly if we were asking to join the European Union today I very much doubt they'd want us.

The result is tomorrow and I confidently predict half the country is not going to be happy. 

For myself I think I'll take heed of this sign ...

Eleanor Crosses

Spring Bank cemetery has two of these Gothic iron Eleanor Cross style monuments. They are nearly identical. The left hand one is a listed monument  and both were repaired in the mid 1990's when a newspaper from 1868 was found in one of them. Originally they would have had some glazing and a funerary urn positioned within. Of course when new there were no trees and the place would have been kept clear and well maintained.

Skylight

Hepworth's Arcade also has a small but impressive skylight.

Now for something completely different

This striking sign is outside a little shop in Hepworth's Arcade that sells all things occult,  tchotchkes and similar stuff to clutter the home.

Everything is black and white, isn't it?

This month's light and shadow theme has come in handy for those days when I've not got anything to post or I'm utterly depressed by, among other things, the current climate of polarised numptiness that has possessed this pathetic little pimple on the arse of Europe. Still by this time next week it all be over bar the shooting ...

The weekend in black and white is here.