Mean Streets

I still have in mind a post about race and multiculturalism, but my home internet connection is still not working and my employers don’t pay me to write the long, meandering post I have in mind. Soon, I hope.

In the meantime, here’s news that Camberwell Green has been placed third in the list of street crime incidences in London, with a total of 263 in the 12 months to April 2006. East Walworth was slightly ahead of it with 266, and, just up the road, Coldharbour came in 5th with 235. I guess that makes this a fairly high-risk place to live, then.

In terms of crime in general, Southwark didn’t make it into the top ten. What can we learn from this? Stay at home!

Author: Peter

Long-time resident of Camberwell, author of this blog since July 2004.

20 thoughts on “Mean Streets”

  1. God, that’s depressing. I’m actually quite shocked that Camberwell Green is in third place in the WHOLE OF LONDON. I’ve lived in places I’d consider far more dodgy. Obviously I was mistaken. Maybe I should move to Lebanon.

  2. I’ve triangulated the three danger wards to find out where the most dangerous place to be is statistically, so I can avoid it.

    Wait — that’s my house.

  3. Yeah, it’s been that way for years to be honest — I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again — a lot of this crime stems from the disastrous and totally flawed concrete utopia that Southwark Council and Lambeth created in the 60’s and 70’s — it’s not the only reason but the main one…

  4. Some of the towers are OK, but the surrounding floor plans seem like a response to the brief:

    “Design a series of wide concrete expanses, making copious use of railing, which will resist any form of leisure or business use, even as near to the centre as Zone 2. The railing must be continuous enough to discourage access to the concrete expanses, creating huge vacuums of non-activity. It should be possible for councillors across successive administrations to argue that it would not be economical to redesign the floor plan without knocking down the towers as part of a 20 year plan.

    Access points should be too narrow for street traders to access conveniently, and should create significant difficulties for young mothers with prams.”

  5. I have to tell you now [puts on Neville Chamberlain voice] that I have had an excellent and sensitive response from Southwark Council about the weird do, shall we call it, in Lucas Gardens last Saturday. I was not the only person, apparently, to let the council know it was very un-Camberwell, and the Council are saying, as far as they can at this stage, that they will not be inviting Chancellor Hitler back.

    I am much soothed. In the meantime, Carstairs has been excellent company. He is a gentleman’s gentleman through and through. He shows no signs of wishing to pat my rear, oddly.

    As for a discussion about race and multiculturalism, Peter, there is much government logorrhoea about this at the moment. However, Camberwell is kinda unselfconscious about these matters. It is not Bolton, Bradford or Burnley and weird-do attitudes stick out like a sore thumb here in SE5.

    Also…

    Ooh!

    CARSTAIRS!

  6. Well, I had to look up funambulist, Lord H and you were right — it was not what I thought! My vocabulary is now one word richer, thanks to you, though I’m struggling to see how I might work it into everyday conversation.
    I see from the entry above that you are allowing Carstairs a bit more time off the leash. Could it be that you have started volume three of the autobiography?
    Anyway — onto other matters — I think a piece on race and multiculturalism would be a really good idea. I freely admit to being quite selfconscious in previous attempts to discuss these issues.
    Let’s have a (not so) heated debate, as Mrs Merton was wont to say.

  7. Morning — Friday before bank Holiday and thoguths turn to Carnival — does anyone knwo is the old carnival buses the X12 and X36 will be runnning this year seeing as they are now bendy?

  8. If it makes anyone feel any better, of the 263 street crime incidences in Camberwell in the last year, at least three-quarters were committed by two of the primary members of my household –

    Lady Henry’s ketamine addiction has reached Pablo Escobar-like proportions. I fear I may have to put her down at some point. You may have seen her wandering around the Green — she wears a knitted cardigan, has dyed-blonde hair, and sinisterly-fake black eyebrows as sported by Joe Pesci playing David Ferrie in JFK. She used to wear fur, and painted her face in white make-up, but I put a stop to that as it was scaring the help. She had blood on her hands when she came in last night, but I don’t like to delve.

    Carstairs, having been ultimately rebuffed by Dagmar, was last seen speeding through Burgess Park on one of those motorbikes that look like they were made for midgets. His crimes are so multifarious they border on the satanic. Please do not approach this man if you see him. He looks like Peter Bowles from TO THE MANOR BORN fame, albeit strung out on heroin and obsessed with Izzy out of NEIGHBOURS.

    Mushtimushta — Volume III of my autobiography is still in the planning stages, although I do have a title — A COMPLETE AND UTTER WASTE OF TIME. It sums up my life quite succinctly. Coincidentally, in the epilogue, I do address issues of race and multiculturalism, but such excerpts may be too controversial for this mild-mannered blog. I thenk yew.

  9. The white duck still lives by the pond in Ruskin Park. The British Raj looks sad. Some old armchairs have appeared by the open-air pub benches in Lucas Gardens, but they have been disembowelled.

  10. Lord H — with a working title like that for volume 3, I fear that it may never reach the publishers. You’ll need to give it a positive spin to spur you into completing it. How about something like “ALMOST a complete and utter waste of time”? Has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you say?
    Last night I went to a party of a friend of a friend of a.….…(you get the picture). Anyway, they had a band in the garden — I kid you not! And they were fab. Called Westway. The theme of the party was a tribute to the much missed Joe Strummer (of The Clash and more latterly, the Mescaleros for those of you under 35). Their set included Complete Control, White Man in Hammersmith Palais &, of course, London Calling. They’re playing the Half Moon in Herne Hill on September 22 if anyone out there wants to catch them.
    Finally, did anyone make the Notting Hill Carnival today? All reports appreciated.

  11. The de-stuffed armchairs have disappeared from Lucas Gardens but were replaced by three skeletal, white drug-takers injecting themselves in strange places in the bushes and as though painted by El Greco.

  12. You’re right, Mushtimushta, the proposed title for Volume III of my autobiography does not have the requisite panache for which I am renowned. But fear not, as I have come up with a humdinger — SWANNING AROUND. Place your order now.

  13. Infinitely better, Lord H. I have some WH Smith book vouchers put aside, so I will resist spending them until Swanning Around hits the streets. It will be hard, what with the new Jilly Cooper just out, but I will be strong. And besides, who really wants to read about another bunch of upper class tw**s who all look like their horses? (I’m talking about Jilly’s output, Lord H)

  14. How dare you, sir! Lady Henry looks like her horse, I’ll admit, but that’s a result of the heroin. The poor woman should not be vilified for her addiction. I myself resemble my bull mastiff, Dillinger. Actually I should say “resembled”, as I had to have the poor fellow put down after he savaged one of the neighbourhood ragamuffins. They don’t look too kindly on infanticide in these parts.

  15. Dillinger, eh? That is a very culturally aware name for a man’s best friend. I need to go and look up ragamuffin and infanticide and then come back to you on the rest of your missive, Lord H.
    You’re doing wonders for my vocabulary.

  16. Be on the lookout for a well-spoken, smartly-dressed, white woman named “Claire Jones” who knocks on your door at one in the morning with a longwinded story about a daughter with renal failure blah blah her electricity running out blah blah not being able to charge her card at the local shop blah blah, until she finally comes out with, “Can you lend me ten pounds?”

    I set the dogs on her.

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