Roadz a'coming

Jonathon L Seagull las had a swoop or two across the Central Dead Zone of Brighton Mall today and found some interesting fences have gone up. Now we all know it's election year and the pollies (who are as always trying to buy votes by bribing those stupid humans with their own hard-earned tax dollars) need fences to sit on. But there's enough fences there for about (counts claws on red webbed feet) why, at least seven Parliaments' worth of Hapless Politicians. So it cannot be the Electioneering Seat of Choice.

On the other hand, if this is the start of the Evil Slow Road, where were the intrepid Let's Lie Down in front of Heavy Machinery crew? Your faithfull scribbler did notice some rather congratulatory pavement chalk markings, and after a quick flit round the block to collect our resident Human Scribblings Interpreter, we have a translation!

The messages seem to indicate that the people actually paying for the Slow Road - the businessfolk and those residents who are Tax Producers rather than Tax Consumers - are pleased that the start of serious construction is evident, in full and on time. The chalky bits say "Bring it On", and "The Tide has Turned".

Now frankly, in our gullz line of business, we would far rather see fat juicy little Worms turning, but each to their own.

But it does occur to even the dimmest Gullz Brain Cell, that the members of the Intrepid Anti Road mob Society, in order to do the threatened Lie-in, will have to Scale the Fences, Brave the wrath of Burly Blokes and Blokesses clad in tar-covered overalls (that's the road contractor's workers - keep it simple, JL (Ed. Gull)) and (as the said fences limit pedestrians to about two abreast tops) perform all of this for a total audience of maybe ten casual shoppers; dozens of shop workers whose livelihood depends on Actual Work and Trade and who therefore, one suspects, will not be Highly Amused; one badly controlled Poodle; and the obligatory Flying Squadron of Gullz.

The Squadron, will, of course, along with the Craven Politicians, be sitting on top of the Fences. Laughing their silly heads off. Although to the humanz, it will probably just sound like a lot of squawking.

As those chalky marks say, Bring it On. Oh, and can each human please bring a Plate - a chippie or two for us hungry Gullz? It may be the Winter of the Anti-Roaders Discontent, but Winter is certainly what it feels like to thin, starveling Gullz. Warm chips, s'il vous plait.