Jobs for the arty farty boys

I went to a meeting on Thursday, an arty farty funding conflab. I was a bit fed up it was that particular night because The Awd Feller and me had a bottle of nice red planned, but duty's duty.

I got talking to one bloke, he seemed all right but when a man from a certain funding agency turned up he forgot our conversation with a speediness that'd leave Mo Farrah for dust. I got the back of his baldy head after that.

I peered over his shoulder and what do you know, quelle surprise, he has a funding application in his greasy mitt and wants advice off funding man on how to fill it in. That gave me a good idea about how the meeting might go.

I was right too.

Everyone whinged. It was like the Olympics for whinging, actually. Not enough arty-farty money to go round so let's all have a whinge, shall we? That'll show those Tories.

The high (or low?) point was when one bloke suggested we ask Dept X for money for a 'feasibility study'.
Oh, please. And who would carry out this feasibility study? Not you or your mates, by any chance?
A major case of jobs for the boys, but no one else seemed to notice. In fact, people were nodding.

Given that the Hillsborough Panel's report came out in September, and people outside the city are starting now - thank God - to reassess how they think about Liverpool, you'd think the arty-farty lot would fall into line wouldn't you?

The stereotypes of scrounging scallies and whinging scousers are being rubbed out elsewhere but some are determined to keep on flogging that old nag  of a horse until it breathes no more.

I've always been of a mind that arty-farty funding is a luxury. You don't need a grant to write a book, paint a masterpiece, record a song, whatever. When women I know are relying on Food Banks for tampons and sanitary towels each month it makes me fume that people want money for a 'feasibility study'.

PISS OFF.