Millom in the Dock (16 page)

And what of the
Golden Fleece? That’s actually a nearby pub at Calderbridge which
has a replica of the actual fleece hanging on the wall outside
(local sheep, drugged and sprayed gold). The pub is very popular
playing host to reams of Jason and the Argonaut digitally remade
actors with veeery realistic, really fresh looking amputations.

I may bend the
truth like Beckham bends a ball but I don’t lie that often. The pub
did some especially good business with The Argonauts widescreen
digital remake of a remake … with a two hour extra fight scene
involving the entire crew and several quite unwilling Greenpeace
members and … a surprised lobster! Which is quite a film to see and
beats Rocky Horror hands down, (because Christopher Biggins isn’t
in it).

Actors are rife
in Claderbridge because of the number of times the crab scene has
to be reshot using Brecht and Stanislavski conditioned and
struggling new thespians. They can’t get Brad Pitt I’m told maybe
that’s cos he’s a good actor. Or doesn’t like genuine imitation
plastic crabs or something? That’s the magic of Sellafield beach
M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader.

(NB: since I
started writing this brilliant piece, Calder Hall has closed
down).

Between the two
halves of the plant is a middle bit (well fancy that!) a river …
The Calder. This is a clear freshwater river because it is a clear,
unpolluted river it (if you can believe that? It’s easier to
believe that women have a sensible logic system ... LOL! Joke)
contains healthy fish and, because of its unique positioning (the
massive planet and I end up living in this stretch of river …
syndrome), these fish are ‘specimens’. Baby! …These fish are B-I-G!
If you choose to go fishing on this particular part of the river
don’t climb the fence because it’s naughty and the site police will
get you, tie you to a post on the beach then throw bricks at the
crabs, gracefully dozing between feeding takes. Ask permission at
the main gate.

You will be
given a fishing permit and a free ‘I’ve been to Sellafield’ T shirt
but, your rod and tackle will be taken from you. “Oh charming” says
you … “oh sensible” says I. You will then be taken to the fishing
lodge. Here you will be kitted out with the equipment necessary for
the landing of such local specimens: a pair of thick soled rubber
wellies, a powerful Plasma Cannon and, a little green (for
camouflage) folding chair. These cannons are similar to the ones
they used in the Ghostbusters film (I’ve seen it in Millom’s
cinema). There is a lead attached to each one, this lead is very
long, un-commercially long for a change. You are at freedom to
choose your fishing plot … although behind a bush is recommended.
The procedure is then as follows.

Set up the
little folding chair and then walk one hundred metres to the side
of a reactor, with a modified three pin plug in hand, comes
complete with 3000 amp fuse! The Starship Enterprise’s three pins
are fused for a mere 2600 amp surge-protection and that is enough
to manipulate time, never mind stop a ‘tiddler’. Plug in to one of
the available sockets of which there are plenty and you are ready
to angle. (Since the reactors were shut down … power packs have
been provided to anglers).

If it happens
to be Summer whatever you do, do not be tempted to walk to the
river’s edge, sit on the bank and remove your wellies in order to
dangle your hot sweaty feet in the water while holding the cannon
casually under your arm … ready for the big one coming under the
bridge at a good rate of knots towards you, ‘lunch’ playing heavily
on its fishy mind. If you should decide to ignore this warning and
you have a mobile phone, place it about twenty metres from
yourself, especially if it is one of those expensive diddly doo daa
WAP ones with photo technology. There is absolutely no point in
vaporising that too, may as well leave it for the site police. By
the way if you do this silly trick your next of kin will be billed
for the Cannon, expensive at 1.2 million quid each, minus sights
and VAT. If however you do manage to land … sorry, stop a fish,
usually a salmon or a trout (don’t stare into its eyes pre-stop by
the way, it’ll have you, they can hypnotise their prey, a bit like
Kaa in the Jungle Book) and, it is too big for your wall, the
canteen will purchase the meat, even on such a grand scale. If you
have a big wall, the fish can be stuffed and fitted with singing
capabilities. This will take seven car batteries wired in series to
operate. The fish can be very loud so be warned, don’t crank up the
volume after 11 p.m. Also if you require the tail to move, don’t
let your friend/neighbour sit near it … they may end up with a
surgical collar and sue you.

Yes, the Millom
lot stand there staring through the wire at the Cooling Towers
watching the steam billow from the tops. The tour ticket says (if
the traveller still has it) …

SPECIAL!!!
MILLOM EXPRESS TOUR DAY TRIP TO THE CUMBERLAND CLOUD FACTORY!

Well it’s
something to tell their grandchildren. It’s cruel telling an
untruth but that’s tourism.

Of course, some
of their loved ones work there, so shouldn’t they know that it’s a
bomb factory? Well no, because that official secrets act requires
them to make up another story about what the place does.

THE CLOUD
FACTORY IN FULL PRODUCTION MODE – COURTESTY OF B N F L

(They don’t
make clouds any more)

Well then …

Brick and Togo,
refreshed from drinking with the actors in the Fleece but
unsurprisingly without cameo roles (don’t want to scare the crab
and frighten it off), then seesaw like mad to get the passengers
home in time for tea …

Menu: Rabbit
and banking allotment veg sarnies with Sellafield trout, Manky
caught it/fought it, didn’t need the gun. Brick yearned to put it
on his wall and sing along with it but got it jammed in his porch.
That’s SIDETRACK(ed) M’lud.

M’lud: “Thank
you Mr Lassut, you never know, I may one day purchase a ticket just
for the experience. Court will now end for today and begin again at
10.30 tomorrow morning”.

“All rise for
M’lud”.

***

M’lud: “Good
morning everyone, what’s on the agenda today Mr Lassut?”

Well M’lud,
ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader … self-entertainment!
If you will excuse the entendre temptation. Graham Keeley of the
Daily Mirror says …
“In the evenings and at weekend, they have
to find their own entertainment”
.
Yes, oh yes M’lud,
ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, they do too! M’lud
how about this as an example of self-created fun! May I ask you
M’lud, do you like to boogie?

M’lud: “Oh by
Jove yes, crank up the volume and you may easily mistake me for
Travolta”.

Thank you
M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, I really do
fail to see the problem with making your own entertainment? Hasn’t
it been said that television ruined the art of conversation? Making
your own fun is creative and causes the fizzy energy called
enthusiasm to dance through the trillions of cells comprising the
body. It would also nurture the minds of many a child if the
parents did not count so much on outside influences to take away
their responsibility of reminding their children just what
brilliant little creators they are. It would also aid our planet if
people chose to think for themselves and therefore create their own
reality rather than letting someone else lead the way, especially
if it is destructive and therefore non-serving to the whole. Here
then is one way some of the people of Millom have a knees up …

On Saturday
nights in the Workies (Working Men’s Club), everybody jives to JR’s
78s disco. The 78 doesn’t actually refer to any year it refers to
the playing speed of the record collection which came with the
record player. The speaker horn was made a little louder by nicking
another piece of corrugated iron fence from someone’s allotment
down the Banking, cheers once again Sharps old chap (he’s
definitely in this area!”) and of course, not forgetting Fireblade
(“and so is he”), who kept watch. This acquisition exercise was
followed by a group of local handy lads getting busy with hammers
and kicking it into the required shape, then riveting it to the
original horn. A good modern tradesman’s job they did too because,
unless you look really closely, it is easy to spot the join. But,
it works; in fact people can even hear it in the lounge next to the
dance floor.

Top local DJ,
‘JR’, is once again the man with the patter and the crank handle.
He is the guardian of possibly the only set of 78s Slade ever made
… ‘especially’ for the HMV disco. They actually dress down out of
their space gear and into a disguise made famous in Saturday Night
Fever (especially Dave Hill) and sometimes join the crowd that is
if they’re not flitting around this, or any other, infinite
dimensional Universe, banging out still popular hits. Time is
irrelevant with superb music.

Well, they’re
entitled to enjoy themselves a bit, even Martians like a pint and a
dance. They did Millom a favour as well didn’t they? By bringing
Brick and Togo back from certain vaporisation.

John (JR) even
has a dazzling light show and bubbles! Spherical ones without hair
… no corny old jokes in this text M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of
the Jury, dear reader! The lighting rig consists of a candle either
side of the stage, one either side of the disco and one centre
stage. The bubble blowers are sat at ground level either side of
the stage, their job sounds, and is, easy. It is usually done by
two local footballers who, relative to the Rugby mob, are used to
blowing into small round holes. As with the Rugby there are girls
who like to play football too. These are the more feminine ones who
like to wear things like make-up and pretty dresses and during a
game, keep their kit nice and not get it mucky. They don’t have
seasoned moustaches either, just a slight shadow, easily covered by
a little dab here and there of Boots No 7 (how do I know about No 7
… read on).

The lighting
technicians again sat either side of the stage, one either side of
the disco, plus one directly in front (JR has a big display). Each
technician has a piece of A4 card with little windows cut into it,
over these windows are stuck those nice transparent coloured sweet
wrappers (from Fergie’s pick ‘n’ mix counter). They simply hold
these in front of the candle flames … hey presto! … A psycho..delic
light show. The guy in the middle of the disco unit is the strobe;
he simply pendulums his piece of card very quickly across the
flame. He generally has lots of ‘quick wrist’ techniques … this job
is usually done by some sad git who can’t get fixed up … I was
strobe for a while … years in fact. I was so frustrated that I
could have frozen a humming bird’s wings mid sweep in a panic
flight. This speed was possible for me because as I’ve already
mentioned, I didn’t play Rugby so I had about as much chance of
pulling as a plastic flower has of experiencing osmosis (okay …
water travelling up the bloody stem with no muscles to speak of …
okay?). But rapid wrist strobing is a useful talent and the
qualification can take you all around the world. Yes you can get a
job just about anywhere at all, such as testing the speed of
people’s record decks using a small Mag torch! Balancing tyres
using the same torch! Upsetting people with epilepsy … using the
same torch with a more powerful bulb! Doing Morse Code for sailors
who talk fast. Salt and pepper shaker in a restaurant; snowstorm
shaker for lazy upper class people. Yes, you can get a proper job
even if you don’t want one, a common illness, I would much prefer a
life of leisure … please buy my writings … friend.

What about Dry
Ice? Smoke you mean? Yeees! Easy Peasy!