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Welcome to a brand of
Mathematical
Services.
I comment on a video of a bus ride down the A650 into Bradford
centre.You can see the slope into the
cauldron which is Bradford. It is a main artery into the town and is
always very busy with cars, buses
and goods traffic. It is thought to be a very old way - a Roman way.
The route is lined with
living accomodation, factories, warehouses, mills, retail units, still
some churches (the brothels I'm unaware of
- just one 'adult' shop) as far as the eye can see. When I returned to
living in Bradford after
working elsewhere my first impression was that this was a very busy
place, and didn't understand why
it was now poor, or deprived, or why house prices were seemingly very
low. I give a translation of the first impression of the German poet,
George Weerth (the German proletariat's poet), upon arriving in
Bradford
in 1843.
"If a mortal wants to know what it's like in Purgatory, let him go to
Bradford, he said Noise
fumes, smoke, hurry, a most depressing wet climate, stench, - no
amusements, no theatre, no decent
pubs, no singing - men like ghosts scurrying silently through the fog,
muffled up to their nostrils
in heavy coats, no time to exchange the time of day let alone for a
chat - nothing but grim hard
headed Yorkshiremen in frayed frock coats and shabby hats, with no
thought for
anything but their woollens and worsteds, price lists and Stock Market.
Masters and men alike
toiling like horses, like machines, year in year out, in unending
monotony and with incredible endurance."
Oh dear.
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