Much harrumphing and invocations of Norman Tebbit today.
Well, it’s about time. They’re much easier to mow down when they’re on their bikes.
In the mid-nineties, it was self-evident that there were fewer jobs in the area I lived than there were in the south-east. So I cast my job-seeking net further and wider.
I got offered a job in the south-east. I accepted it. I filled my car with my belongings and moved more than 200 miles to an affordable location near my new job.
Best thing I ever did.
What kind of mindset does it take to sit in Doncaster, Newcastle or Liverpool for years on end, subsisting on dole money, when a one-time move to a more affluent part of the country opens up endless opportunities to improve one’s life?
Oh, but what about people with families? Well, I’ve worked in London with dozens of blokes, who lodge in London four nights a week, whose families are back in the grim north.
Eventually, they either go back up north considerably better off, or move their families down south.
Those who can do. Those who won’t can rot in hell for all I care. I’ve paid quite enough in taxes to support feckless northern morons who think that if they sit in a council house in Bradford for long enough, the world will come to them.
It won’t, and the UK can no longer afford to subsidise such a pathetic wastrel mindset.