Daft folk abuse privilege of the freedom to speak

Anton Rippon finds himself speaking out against anti-vax marchers and thugs who hijack protests

I’M a tolerant soul. I’ve always supported the right of anyone to act daft. I think it’s a basic human right. Occasionally, though, some folk abuse the privilege. Take the other week: people marching down Whitehall, chanting that the coronavirus vaccine should be placed where the sun doesn’t shine.

One scruff paused from daubing a slogan on a wall to tell a television reporter that “protests against Covid-19” must be allowed. Sorry to disabuse you, mate, but there is no point in protesting against the coronavirus – because it just ain’t listening. And, anyway, if there is one thing that really annoys me it’s illiterate graffiti artists.

As I understand it there are two camps here: those who don’t believe that Covid-19 exists and those who believe that, although it is real, when it comes to issues concerning the pandemic, then an exception must be made to the ban on large public gatherings. Again, it isn’t going to let you off because you’re among a crowd of antivaxxers.

Lockdown certainly gives you time to muse on the state of the world. Which is not necessarily a good thing. I’m wondering if it’s possible, desirable even, to switch off the news and pull a blanket over my head. Some might call it burying that head in the sand, but it might be good for one’s peace of mind. Ignorance is bliss and all that.

In Bristol, we saw what started out as a peaceful demonstration turn to a full-scale riot when protesters were joined by thugs who don’t understand what it’s all about and probably can’t even spell vaccine. But it’s an excuse to smash a shop window and kick a police horse.

Closer to home, I’m sad to read that the area of Derby where I was born and in which I grew up is now not only infested with fly-tippers but is, at times, apparently also something of a no-go area.

In response to Councillor Ajit Atwal’s social media post about some dreadful instances of flytipping on Harrison Street, Boyer Street and the entrance to Stockbrook Park, Angela O’dwyer, of the Bell and Castle pub on Burton

Road, said: “The distress that is being put upon everyone that lives around here is now beyond words and seemingly some problems have gotten well out of control … Most of us folk around here are working hard every day to try to live a normal life … however, so many people are scared to out.”

I was shocked. Growing up in the Gerard Street-abbey Street part of town after the war was wonderful. Good neighbours, hard workers. There were a few odd characters, true, but it was always safe for anyone, day or night. Angela paid tribute to the work that Ajit, and other community heroes like Kenny Stockbrook and his friends do in trying to get back to something like that. They won’t be deterred, but theirs is an uphill struggle.

Meanwhile, a memorial bench on Clemson’s Park in Littleover was torn to pieces, something else for another wonderful group, Carlisle Against Crime (Littleover) … Caring for the Community, to worry about as they battle against more and more anti-social behaviour in an area where at one time such an event would have been unthinkable.

Blimey, after all these weeks of me encouraging everyone to cheer up, be positive, things can only get better – now here I am doing the exact opposite. Some things you just can’t ignore, though.

Well, maybe just for a little while. George Formby’s Happy Go Lucky Me usually does the trick. We mustn’t remain glum for long. And I’ve still got a neighbour’s homebrew Vimto Turbo Cider to try. He left a bottle for me on our doorstep, then, an hour later, I received a text: “Urgent. Please open the cider over a sink. Better still, in the garden. Please confirm receipt of this message.” I’m still weighing up the safest approach.