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If you can’t be bothered to take an interest in local affairs that’s your own lookout

May 28, 2007 by  

I don’t really mean that but it is an eye catching heading on a subject that really does matter.

Planning : Matter of Concern Number 5, Residents Survey – Hawkwell West 2007

The Vogon Constructor Fleet is the fleet of alien spaceships in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy that demolishes the Earth to make way for a hyperspace bypass,and they despair at the fact that the planning application has been advertised at Alpha Centauri for 50 years (when of course earth people did not know about it and could not get there anyway !!)

Much the same in Hawkwell.  An allocation of 400 new houses by the Conservative District Council in a less than interesting document called Core Strategy Preferred Options (Regulation 26) Draft.  But all is revealed in an unpublicised public exhibition on 31 May 2007 at Hawkwell Village Hall, 16.30 to 19.30 when you are either coming home from work or having your tea !!

I understand that about 40 people attended the session – the main questions related to concerns about housing numbers and particularly the lack of infrastructure.But as the Captain of the Vogons, Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz, said to Earth just before it was to be destroyed, you had the chance Hawkwell !!

“People of Earth, your attention please,” a voice said, and it was wonderful. Wonderful perfect quadrophonic sound with distortion levels so low as to make a brave man weep.

“This is Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz of the Galactic Hyperspace Planning Council,” the voice continued. “As you will no doubt be aware, the plans for development of the outlying regions of the Galaxy require the building of a hyperspatial express route through your star system, and regrettably your planet is one of those scheduled for demolition. The process will take slightly less that two of your Earth minutes. Thank you.”

The PA died away.

Uncomprehending terror settled on the watching people of Earth. The terror moved slowly through the gathered crowds as if they were iron fillings on a sheet of board and a magnet was moving beneath them. Panic sprouted again, desperate fleeing panic, but there was nowhere to flee to.

Observing this, the Vogons turned on their PA again. It said:

“There’s no point in acting all surprised about it. All the planning charts and demolition orders have been on display in your local planning department on Alpha Centauri for fifty of your Earth years, so you’ve had plenty of time to lodge any formal complaint and it’s far too late to start making a fuss about it now.”

The PA fell silent again and its echo drifted off across the land. The huge ships turned slowly in the sky with easy power. On the underside of each a hatchway opened, an empty black space.

By this time somebody somewhere must have manned a radio transmitter, located a wavelength and broadcasted a message back to the Vogon ships, to plead on behalf of the planet. Nobody ever heard what they said, they only heard the reply. The PA slammed back into life again. The voice was annoyed. It said:

“What do you mean you’ve never been to Alpha Centauri? For heaven’s sake mankind, it’s only four light years away you know. I’m sorry, but if you can’t be bothered to take an interest in local affairs that’s your own lookout.

“Energize the demolition beams.”

Light poured out into the hatchways.

“I don’t know,” said the voice on the PA, “apathetic bloody planet, I’ve no sympathy at all.” It cut off.

There was a terrible ghastly silence.

There was a terrible ghastly noise.

There was a terrible ghastly silence.

The Vogon Constructor fleet coasted away into the inky starry void.

 

 

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