Tuesday 25 February 2014

The Curious Case of Ian Crow

Mr Sherlock Holmes was hunched over his new tablet device, his pale face and aquiline features appearing more ghostly still in the machine's glowing light. He suddenly leapt to his feet and handed the contraption to me.

"I am afraid", said the great detective," that I must away to the city to make enquiries. I fear that our old friend Grant is in grave danger."

"No shit, Sherlock," I ejaculated! "Who would wish harm to that amiable fellow?"

Holmes handed me the electronic gizmo. "Read the twitter feeds, Watson, of @sandwellleader and @crow_ian * and let me have your deductions when I return," he stated as he departed in some haste.

For several hours I stared at the device until my head was spinning.Much of these entries may as well have been written in the tongue of a remote African hill tribe for all I understood them. Who are 'the Baggies,' I wondered? Why is a #ukipper different from a breakfast delicacy? What does 'Boing,Boing' mean? I made a mental note to ask my old-Etonian friend, Cameron, about the definition of 'LoL'.

Holmes returned with a somewhat downcast mien and reached for the syringe case to administer that substance of which I so disapproved. Finally, he requested my views.

"Well Holmes my dear chap, Crow seems a rough fellow of the worst sort. He seems not to be anyone working with those with mental health issues. He has called Grant 'a nutcase', 'nuts', 'a crack pot'. 'totally tapped', 'the nut-job' and even asked if dear old Vernon had been dropped on his head at birth."

"So far, so good," Watson. Pray continue."

"Crow is no lover of the arts. He says it is all a waste of money. He derides a building called The Public - 'nobody cares....they all think it's shit,' is his view. Mind you, Holmes, he seems to have some special knowledge about that place. He asked: 'Does that mean they are knocking it down?' long before a report was produced listing that as a possible option."

"Capital, Watson!" We will make a detective of you yet! But does he have a connection, I wonder, with that august body, Sandwell Metropolitan Borough Council?"

I paused as our dear landlady, Mrs Hudson, brought in a tray of afternoon tea although the delight of her arrival was somewhat tempered when she announced a 3.8% rent increase for our small but comfortable rooms.

"No," Holmes, "I don't think so. On 6th November last he contacted the Council to report a pot-hole near somewhere called Ikea and they said they would send him a form to complete. Surely he wouldn't waste their time? Mind you, he seems to have become close to this man Cooper - they had quite a chat on this twitter-thing on 11th December."

"Indeed Watson," said my old friend, "something of a masterpiece of its type!"

"He may be of the lower ranks, Holmes, but he reads the local gossip sheets assiduously. Long before the matter came before the Council he followed up a story from this Cooper chap in the local rag - 'Hello is there an ice rink coming somewhere round here' he, er, crowed."

My friend stretched his gaunt limbs and became suddenly animated. "But what, my medical friend, of all this and our friend Grant?"

"Well he has, perhaps, been somewhat mocking in his tone with Crow. That fellow said he was taking his dear lady out and ended his tweet #prat with no brains - directed at Grant - who rather injudiciously replied 'that's no way to talk about your missus'. But surely to talk of danger is going too far?"

Holmes leant forward and began to tell me the outcome of his own enquiries thus far. "There are a number of oddities and discrepancies with our Mr Crow. Let us start with his address. He claims to live in the town of Wednesbury but he does not. I have checked sundry public records including the roll of voters,Watson, and our friend is being untruthful".

"I also deduce, Watson, that Crow must have attended the same - rather poor - school as Mr Cooper. How else can one explain some curious spelling tics common to them both?"

"Oh come now Holmes, where is the evidence for that?"

"Look again Watson at Crow's tweet of 12th November last when he claims to be the victim of what he calls 'personnel attacks' and then three tweets from Cooper of 12th and 13th November -'this is about a personnel attack',' this is a personnel attack' and '...instead of personnel attacks'."

"Illiteracy is unfortunate but common enough, Holmes. It is hardly a crime and certainly not one worthy of your phenomenal forensic skills?"

 Holmes pressed on regardless, "and then there is the word "vile" to be considered. This is a word used by Cooper as both an adjective and a noun."

I laughed incredulously. "A noun?"

"Indeed, Watson, Cooper uses 'the vile' to describe supporters of an association football team called Aston Villa as well as in its normal usage. Crow has used the word in a most aggressive manner towards friend Grant - objecting to his  'vile tone', accusing him of telling 'vile lies' and, of most concern, calling him a 'vile bag of shit'. Foul isn't it?"

Holmes fixed me with a direct stare, "I don't suppose that you believe in coincidences do you Watson?" Before I could reply, he continued. "There is a very often contemporaneity between the tweets of Cooper and Crow."

Here I felt obliged to interject. "I an beginning to understand this twitter business and must agree with you that Crow is not a real person. His account is an obvious blind. But, equally, Cooper cannot be a real person either. No-one in his position could pour forth such a stream of moronic drivel. I mean, look at all this stuff about canine faeces!"

"He is not only real Watson but, incredibly, he IS also the so-called leader of Sandwell MBC," cried my now ashen-faced friend.

Holmes reached for the syringe case again and having indulged himself with a particularly large dosage settled down to tell me more of this fantastic business.

"Crow is what is now popularly known as a troll, Watson. He claims to be an only occasional driver of vehicles and yet my enquiries this morn confirm that the overwhelming number of his tweets were sent via i-pad and i-phone devices. It is my working hypothesis that this fellow could not afford such items."

A light began to shine in the darkness. "I don't suppose," I whispered hoarsely," that this Cooper also sends his tweets by these i-thingies does he?" Another thought dawned, "Ah yes, and I begin to see the danger for Grant......."

Holmes took up his violin. "I am afraid, Watson, that this mysterious business is beyond even my considerable powers. It must remain unsolved and I regret that it will not feature in your famous annals. Let me see if I can put you to sleep."

I stretched myself out on the sofa and Holmes began to bow a strident Germanic air. Several hours later, I awoke as he played, from memory, the final notes of this epic piece.

 "What was that, Holmes, my dear fellow?"

"Gotterdammerung, Watson. Gotterdammerung!"


BLOG POSTSCRIPT 17/04/14

Since posting the above "friend" Crow's twitter account has been closed - e's passed on, e's off the twig! This crow is no more. He has ceased to be!


ALL INFO ABOUT SANDWELL COUNCIL & SANDWELL COLLEGE TO:

E-mail - thesandwellskidder@gmail.com     Twitter - bcrover

Tel: 07599 983737

WEBSITE re Ice Rink nonsense under construction - icestink.gb.net


* Sundry screenshots have been retained in the event that items suddenly "disappear".



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