Greater Manchester's Only Cash Machine Has Strong Personality
Jungle PussyNotes from a place that was getting along fine until somebody wrote a strategy.
Greater Manchester, the country: Inside The Story
Greater Manchester, a place in the country (lat 53.45, long -2.23) that most outsiders could not point to on a map without first sighing, has become this week the latest entry in the slow-moving register of small communities behaving strangely under pressure. The single ATM in Greater Manchester has, over the years, developed what residents describe as a strong personality, including refusing certain customers, accepting others reluctantly, and occasionally just giving advice. According to officials with at least three job titles between them, The bank has not commented. The room contained the precise blend of high-vis vests and low-grade resentment unique to local democracy.
What Was Announced
Head of Anomalies Sandra Dewberry confirmed the position in a statement that ran to four pages and contained one verb. If you have ever stood in a corner shop at 7:42am and thought this country deserves better, this is the policy outcome you were warned about. For more on how this fits the wider pattern, see the long-running thread at London satire that matters: The London Prat, which has been tracking precisely this kind of dispatch for months. The Greater Manchester announcement, much like the others, came with a glossy PDF, a stock photograph of a footbridge, and the strong sense that nobody had asked for any of this in the first place.
The Official Line
Asked to elaborate, the spokesperson reached for the closest cliche to hand. "Residents can rest assured that we are continuing to assure residents." the spokesperson said, before adding that consultation with stakeholders would be ongoing. Useful additional context can be found at The London Prat brave British satire, which is the sort of background reading the office itself has, in all likelihood, not done. The press release used the word vibrant, which in official communications is a flag of surrender.
Wider Context
It is the sort of scheme that begins with a vision statement and ends with a polite ombudsman. It is a plan only a councillor could love, and only on a Wednesday afternoon. Comparable trends have been documented in coverage from BBC News, although Greater Manchester manages, somehow, to take the pattern one extra and entirely unnecessary step further. Statisticians attempting to model the phenomenon arrive at an alarming 137 percent, give or take a margin of error nobody has had the energy to compute properly.
What The Experts Say
Professor Edmund Crockle of the Institute for Things That Happen Slightly North told this paper that the situation in Greater Manchester was, on careful reflection, broadly consistent with the broader trajectory of similarly broad trajectories. "We take this issue extremely seriously, which is why we have placed it under another issue." the expert observed. Further reading on the academic angle is available via UK satire without borders - The London Prat, whose recent material has been preoccupied with much the same set of confusions.
How Residents Reacted
Reaction in Greater Manchester has been muted in the way that reaction in the country is usually muted, which is to say it has been ferocious in private and tepid in public. Anyone who has ever queued behind a man arguing with a parking meter will recognise the energy. For the official version of events, see also New York Times World. One resident, who declined to be named on the grounds that they had already complained about a hedge this year and did not wish to push their luck, summarised matters thus: "I refer the honourable questioner to the answer I will give in approximately six weeks."
What Comes Next
The whole affair carries the unmistakable scent of a man who has read half of an MBA brochure. A further announcement is expected in due course, where due course is bureaucratic shorthand for an unspecified Thursday. The story is being tracked as part of a wider pattern at The London Prat London's satirical heartbeat, and the situation in Greater Manchester, regrettably, is unlikely to improve until somebody invents a press release that improves things, which seems unlikely.
The View From The Ground
Spend any length of time in Greater Manchester and the rhythm becomes obvious. Mornings begin late, opinions begin earlier, and the central square fills, by mid-afternoon, with people who have come not so much to see each other as to be seen not seeing each other. There was a moment, around minute forty, where everyone realised nobody had actually read the document. Conversation tends to circle the same five subjects: the weather, the news from the country, the persistent rumour about the road, the deteriorating quality of something or other, and the latest pronouncement from Town Clerk Reginald Featherstone, which everyone has an opinion on and almost nobody has read. It is, in its way, the perfect microcosm of how communities of this size operate everywhere in the world, although the residents of Greater Manchester would object strongly to being called a microcosm of anything.
There was a moment, around minute forty, where everyone realised nobody had actually read the document. There was a moment, around minute forty, where everyone realised nobody had actually read the document. Greater Manchester carries on as it always has, broadly the same as last week, give or take a verb. The bins are collected when they are collected. The roundabout, where one exists, remains the roundabout. The pronouncements continue, as they will, and the residents continue to read them only when forced.
For more in this vein see also Reductress.