“Urgent action is needed to boost working class participation in public life, including the expansion of a scheme which saw bus drivers working as magistrates.”
So says a report by a thinking tank – the Policy Exchange Unit.
Thank the Lord that a load of middle classed Tarquins are watching over us.
But this does explain something to me.
It explains why me old Dad, Tex, has been dressing a bit strange. Black gown, wig, hammer. Thought he was goin’ to some S&M party.
Apparently they promoted him from the busses and made him a magistrate. A working classed beak! Didn’t want to make the demographic younger or more ethnic. No way. Just a little bit more traditional working classed. Didn’t want to dilute their justice, you see.
And they hit the jackpot with Tex.
Case One - stealing a sandwich. Ham and pickle. Tex’s favourite. Off with his fingers.
Case Two - a bit of wandering hand in the work place. Not guilty!! You oughta have seen wot she was wearin’. Stone the strumpet instead.
Case Three – some argie bargie outside the Emirates Stadium. Slam ‘em all in the public stocks for a month.
Case Four – caught with a small amount of personal product. Red hot poker up the arse. And, boy, that hurt.
Tex quickly became the toast of the Walthamstow ‘short sharp shock’ brigade. The moral backbone of our society. All goody good. Until some smart Alec points out that Tex is, in fact, introducing his own version of Sharia law to the streets of North London.
So they, with regret, had to move him on. Bad publicity.
But I hears that the fine group of Tarquins on the Policy Exchange Unit are now looking for more working classed School Governors.
Bring back some 1950s style discipline is wot I’m hearing. Send for Tex.