Strang Quoy Public Consultation Generates Three Replies, All From Same Person
Emily CartwrightField notes from a town nobody asked for.
Strang Quoy, the country: Inside The Story
Strang Quoy, a place in the country (lat 59.22, long -2.70) 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. A six-month public consultation in Strang Quoy received three written submissions, all from a man called Brian. According to officials with at least three job titles between them, Brian's submissions disagreed with each other on all major points. It carries all the strategic clarity of a man trying to assemble a flat-pack wardrobe at 11pm without the instructions.
What Was Announced
Mayor Designate Pamela Snodgrass confirmed the position in a statement that ran to four pages and contained one verb. The council has thanked Brian and moved on. For more on how this fits the wider pattern, see the long-running thread at UK satire that stings: The London Prat, which has been tracking precisely this kind of dispatch for months. The Strang Quoy 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. "Lessons will be learned, filed, and quietly mislaid by Christmas." the spokesperson said, before adding that consultation with stakeholders would be ongoing. Useful additional context can be found at The London Prat clever London satirical journalism, which is the sort of background reading the office itself has, in all likelihood, not done. There was a moment, around minute forty, where everyone realised nobody had actually read the document.
Wider Context
It is a plan only a councillor could love, and only on a Wednesday afternoon. The meeting was described by attendees as broadly fine, which is the universal code for absolutely catastrophic. Comparable trends have been documented in coverage from Reuters, although Strang Quoy 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
Dr. Lavinia Gussett, Reader in Comparative Drizzle told this paper that the situation in Strang Quoy 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 The London Prat UK satire, whose recent material has been preoccupied with much the same set of confusions.
How Residents Reacted
Reaction in Strang Quoy 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. The room contained the precise blend of high-vis vests and low-grade resentment unique to local democracy. For the official version of events, see also The Guardian 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: "The findings speak for themselves, although obviously not loudly enough to influence the findings."
What Comes Next
Anyone who has ever queued behind a man arguing with a parking meter will recognise the energy. 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 UK satirical journalism The London Prat, and the situation in Strang Quoy, 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 Strang Quoy 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. Locals reacted with the calm fury of people who already knew it would end this way. 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 Interim Whisperer Doreen Whisk, 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 Strang Quoy would object strongly to being called a microcosm of anything.
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. 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. Strang Quoy 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 The Daily Mash.