Pure Shite, Like... Musings on the Future of Dundee

Dundee is centre of poverty & ignorance; of abandoned buildings left to rot as homes for junkies and rats, standing as monuments to the city of industry that once stood where now we have only tower blocks, Mecca Bingo and the JobCentre; of diseased, ugly and uncouth people w/ not a shred of care for anything but reality TV and low-brow fuck-wit celebrity culture; of Poundland shoppers waiting for giros & smack & discount clothing stores selling them what they don’t deserve, hanging on to that which they deem life until they’re stabbed and kicked to death in the schemes by someone exactly like them, and all for a mobile phone with two pounds credit & a packet of cigarettes. What a fucking shame. Another scumbag dead on the streets of Dundee. A true tragedy, I’m sure, as rather than roll them into the Tay and watch their rancid corpse float off to Norway, the government intervenes and pays for their funeral from the kitty driven from the pockets of those whose lives are made unbearable by scumfuck jakey Dundonian swine.

The potential for a decent wee city exists in some near hopeless form, and one might conclude from a brief jaunt around the West End of Dundee that it already does exist… When strolling across Magdalen Green or Balgay Park, amid the green finery of man’s concession to nature, or standing unharassed & unaccosted on the Perth Road, under trees and by old houses w/ character and residents that have no desire to shit where they sleep and start wars w/ neighbours… Or perhaps sitting in a pub and not worrying about being glassed, jumped by rivalled football fans, or catching AIDS, syphilis & genital warts from a Burberry clad skank w/ her asscheeks visible below her back fat… Or maybe grabbing a coffee in a coffee shop and not having to eat grease drenched bacon and sausage on the side in some manky, filthy East End eatery… Or walk down the street in a different coloured skin or with a different accent, and not be abused, insulted and beaten half to death by a run-of-the-mill chavvy, neddy fuckass Dundee yob.

Perhaps, as a responsible city, we should collectively grow a set of balls, level the city centre, Stobswell, the Hilltown and all other hideous deformities on the landscape, and then round up the survivors of the brutal demolition process, lock the fuckers away on a giant ship brought into the Tay (paid for by the cancellation of all undeserved giros and the eBay auctioning of mobile phones, tacky bling and Burberry scarves taken from the chavvy swine) and set them to sea until far enough out to sink the ship without any survivors making back to land. Then, we will create a great memorial park where once stood the city centre, and ban all chain-stores, hoodies, mobile phones, Buckfast, heroin and ignorant people. The West End will continue to be a centre of learning and civility, while organic farms and libraries sweep across the wastelands w/ no concern for the toxic dead beneath.