Welcome to Eltham - Population: Mindless
Created | Updated Jun 17, 2005
If you've searched for Eltham and found this entry, then I can only hope you are an ex-pat reminiscing or an over-zealous suburban historian randomly researching, because otherwise I can only assume the worst: you live here.
In my opinion a suburban area cannot be called an area, unless there is at least one WHSmith within its boundaries. Eltham has a WHSmith. Blackfen and Sidcup do not. Hence Eltham is a hub of vitality; a youthful cultural melee that can only be experienced - it cannot be described (and it can only be experienced it short exposures, any more can be quite hazardous to your wallet and person). The Eltham branch of WHSmith is in all fairness fairly well stocked and politely staffed. But alas, the members of the Eltham Branch are of a dying breed of temperate and reasonably balanced south-east londoners. At least you knew where you were, when it was just full of racists (this is not libel... blackfen is where the BNP had one of their "landslides" recently - ugh.) So here, I will briefly detail the make-up of the social strata of the Eltham of the 21st Century, in all its terrifying glory...
There are three... no, four main social classes in Eltham. The first group is the Old Eltham-ians; they remember the days when the public library used to be made out of marshmallow, until it was ransacked during and rebuilt after the great bonfire cookout of '38, etc, etc. These are the people who ACTUALLY believe they were in some way responsible for the manufacture of our one piece of local history: Eltham Palace (incidentally, the Palace is famous for Henry VIII stopping there every now and again - even that mad old letch knew the value of his surroundings then). They are dying off sadly, soon to be a rare sighting that not even the most avid ISpiers will be able to spot. And with them dies the histories of what is actually written on those graffiti-covered tombstones and scratched-out bus timetables. A sad loss, indeed.
Then there are the chavs. Chavs, Skallies, Pikies, whatever you want to call them - Eltham has them in a plentiful supply. You can be assured that when you move to Eltham (God forbid), you will not run out of Chavs. If you feel a craving coming on at 3 a.m. to get your head kicked in, roll on down to the petrol station (it'll have to be ESSO garage I'm afraid, the Sainsburys one very sensibly closes early). I would guess that there is an unattended mine somewhere nearby where all these kids pile out of and stalk the streets at night, desperate for the flesh of the day-lighters or just to throw waterballoons at traffic. This is their town, they own it and will continue to for some time. I am curious to see how they turn out when they do finally grow up. The best method if confronted with a pack of pikeys is not to look them in the eye - it only enrages them. The skally/chav/pikey (whatever) culture has (d)evolved to the point where are now the norm.
To give it some perspective, a policeman once came into my school to give a talk/show off about his "kill count" (arrests; this particular local plod enjoyed his numerous colourful invocations of the hit 80s film "Top Gun" starring Tom Cruise - whatever makes his despairingly pointless attempt to clean up the scummy streets of south-east london seem more heroic and noble was fine by me as long as I got off of games that afternoon). He recounted a story about a young capped chap of about 14 who was parading around outside McDonalds in Eltham High Street, having a good old go at whoever passed by. When stopped and searched by the police (who were probably capable of seeing him aggressively gesticulating from their police station window which was situated a whopping 100 yards away), it was revealed that upon his person was concealed a large sword. A large samurai sword. Who is stocking these little shits with that kind of weaponry? Did some hapless old granny working at Cancer Research dig it out for him from the back because he got all teary and promised to absolutely, never-ever-ever slice n dice a passer-by? The Dangerous thing is that they are considered to be the norm, a stage of youth where you want to be rebellious and destructive... like punks. Wrong. No way. Stop right there. Drop it! - good boy. They are not anything like the punk scene. They do not have the conscientious attitude (or even mock conscientious attitude) of that original youth movement. They are nihilistic, aggressive and violent - and need to be stopped. And I know people were saying the same back then and I know that all youth movements are unsettling to older generations, but I am of the same generation and they make me feel so very, very old.
Thank goodness we have a wide selection of local nutters to patrol the area and keep the shelves in Sainsburys in a state of disarray. This is the third group. Has anyone living here ever seen that old man who walks up and down the high street in spandax? I hear he's irish? We call him the Colonel. He is my hero and Eltham's guardian angel. In fact, it seems that Eltham has a lot of guardian angels at the moment, all shuffling up and down, arguing with the bus stops.
The last group is the "normals" - the people who tend to try and get on with their lives as much as is possible, without attracting the attention of nutters and chavs. Or pretending they don't notice them. I'm not sure which yet. They are the minority and I feel for them, but anyone stupid enough to still be living in this area draws only a limited sympathy from me.
Do not come here. If you are here, do what I did. Get out and make for the hills.
In my opinion a suburban area cannot be called an area, unless there is at least one WHSmith within its boundaries. Eltham has a WHSmith. Blackfen and Sidcup do not. Hence Eltham is a hub of vitality; a youthful cultural melee that can only be experienced - it cannot be described (and it can only be experienced it short exposures, any more can be quite hazardous to your wallet and person). The Eltham branch of WHSmith is in all fairness fairly well stocked and politely staffed. But alas, the members of the Eltham Branch are of a dying breed of temperate and reasonably balanced south-east londoners. At least you knew where you were, when it was just full of racists (this is not libel... blackfen is where the BNP had one of their "landslides" recently - ugh.) So here, I will briefly detail the make-up of the social strata of the Eltham of the 21st Century, in all its terrifying glory...
There are three... no, four main social classes in Eltham. The first group is the Old Eltham-ians; they remember the days when the public library used to be made out of marshmallow, until it was ransacked during and rebuilt after the great bonfire cookout of '38, etc, etc. These are the people who ACTUALLY believe they were in some way responsible for the manufacture of our one piece of local history: Eltham Palace (incidentally, the Palace is famous for Henry VIII stopping there every now and again - even that mad old letch knew the value of his surroundings then). They are dying off sadly, soon to be a rare sighting that not even the most avid ISpiers will be able to spot. And with them dies the histories of what is actually written on those graffiti-covered tombstones and scratched-out bus timetables. A sad loss, indeed.
Then there are the chavs. Chavs, Skallies, Pikies, whatever you want to call them - Eltham has them in a plentiful supply. You can be assured that when you move to Eltham (God forbid), you will not run out of Chavs. If you feel a craving coming on at 3 a.m. to get your head kicked in, roll on down to the petrol station (it'll have to be ESSO garage I'm afraid, the Sainsburys one very sensibly closes early). I would guess that there is an unattended mine somewhere nearby where all these kids pile out of and stalk the streets at night, desperate for the flesh of the day-lighters or just to throw waterballoons at traffic. This is their town, they own it and will continue to for some time. I am curious to see how they turn out when they do finally grow up. The best method if confronted with a pack of pikeys is not to look them in the eye - it only enrages them. The skally/chav/pikey (whatever) culture has (d)evolved to the point where are now the norm.
To give it some perspective, a policeman once came into my school to give a talk/show off about his "kill count" (arrests; this particular local plod enjoyed his numerous colourful invocations of the hit 80s film "Top Gun" starring Tom Cruise - whatever makes his despairingly pointless attempt to clean up the scummy streets of south-east london seem more heroic and noble was fine by me as long as I got off of games that afternoon). He recounted a story about a young capped chap of about 14 who was parading around outside McDonalds in Eltham High Street, having a good old go at whoever passed by. When stopped and searched by the police (who were probably capable of seeing him aggressively gesticulating from their police station window which was situated a whopping 100 yards away), it was revealed that upon his person was concealed a large sword. A large samurai sword. Who is stocking these little shits with that kind of weaponry? Did some hapless old granny working at Cancer Research dig it out for him from the back because he got all teary and promised to absolutely, never-ever-ever slice n dice a passer-by? The Dangerous thing is that they are considered to be the norm, a stage of youth where you want to be rebellious and destructive... like punks. Wrong. No way. Stop right there. Drop it! - good boy. They are not anything like the punk scene. They do not have the conscientious attitude (or even mock conscientious attitude) of that original youth movement. They are nihilistic, aggressive and violent - and need to be stopped. And I know people were saying the same back then and I know that all youth movements are unsettling to older generations, but I am of the same generation and they make me feel so very, very old.
Thank goodness we have a wide selection of local nutters to patrol the area and keep the shelves in Sainsburys in a state of disarray. This is the third group. Has anyone living here ever seen that old man who walks up and down the high street in spandax? I hear he's irish? We call him the Colonel. He is my hero and Eltham's guardian angel. In fact, it seems that Eltham has a lot of guardian angels at the moment, all shuffling up and down, arguing with the bus stops.
The last group is the "normals" - the people who tend to try and get on with their lives as much as is possible, without attracting the attention of nutters and chavs. Or pretending they don't notice them. I'm not sure which yet. They are the minority and I feel for them, but anyone stupid enough to still be living in this area draws only a limited sympathy from me.
Do not come here. If you are here, do what I did. Get out and make for the hills.
