They're Squatting The Cop Shop....

Typical Hampstead Studio Flat only £1500 per month inc Loo. 

I recently received an email from someone, who shall remain nameless, scare-mongering about Hampstead Police Station being squatted and how "residents are worrying about a rise in crime".
    
Firstly, were the police station still a police station this wouldn't have happened. If you ask me, it was criminal of the MET/MOPAC to close it down.
Secondly, these squatters are clearly not criminals - they are merely a bit homeless and anyone fearing a rise in crime is probably reading too much into Daily Mail fear-mongering. Having seen the picture in the Ham & High, they look like a pretty innocent bunch to me.

Until recently, squatting was not a criminal offence and to my mind - whilst properties stand empty for months and months - I say good luck to anyone who needs a temporary roof over their head in a climate where a poxy studio flat costs a ridiculous £1,300 p/m or more
    
Maybe MOPAC ought to have kicked a little arse rather than let the building stand empty for so long to 'realise the full potential of their assets'. They are the police, not property developers and have been caught with their pants down. 

Moreover, was there more affordable housing in Hampstead (and London in general) - as there was in the 60s, 70s and early 80s, those on low incomes wouldn't have to resort to squatting. But Camden's sold off much of its council housing so where are people meant to sleep?

The manner in which Hampstead's buildings have become pawns on a property developers' Monopoly board (and that includes MOPAC or any other property owner who leaves a building standing empty for months) combined with Britain's dismantling of its public infrastructure (ie. police stations/nurses homes/housing etc) will result in more of this sort of thing happening. It's inevitable. We've entered another Thatcher era.

There is a solution - Government needs to take responsibility for the current polarisation between rich and poor. Rising house prices might be good for owners, but for those on low incomes it means ridiculously unattainable rents, never mind getting a mortgage. Don't be surprised that those on low or no wages take action if the Government does not up its game.

Raising people's wages and/or lowering rents to an attainable level is the only way to prevent this sort of 'alternative action'. It's a national problem and whilst 10% of the population owns 90% of the wealth - or whatever it is (1% owns 99%?), this ain't going away. But again, as far as I can see, these squatters aren't even vaguely criminals.

Toodle Pip and Viva Hampstonia, Land of the not so free!


E.M. Goldylocks

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein III.

International Hampster... Berlin, Tokyo, New York.

Made in Berlin: Hampstead Village Voice stickers.

For someone who edits the world's smallest and most localist of magazine's, I have to admit to being something of an Ausländer.  As I write, I am watching Berlin go to work from the window of Café Manolo on the corner of Danziger Strasse and Schönhauserallee.
    Yet more exotically, I've been commissioned by the Japanese magazine, Mr. Partner, to write a series of articles on the theme: Why My Village Is Worth Fighting For.
    A small delegation of Japanese came over to Hampstead recently to interview me and we spent a very pleasant afternoon at La Gaffe. It turns out the they are very big on localism and rate the Hampstead Village Voice's Asterix and Obelix-like stance on fighting off 'The Romans'.
   It's peculiar how the Hampstead Village Voice seems to be getting so much attention in New York (recent New York Times article) and Tokyo, yet on this side of the planet it's gone right over the heads of all the Fleet Street hacks in Airstrip One's Ministry of Truth. A good thing too!

Edition 20 of the Hampstead Village Voice is currently at the printer's and will be winging (Ed.whinging?) its way to Waterstones, Village News anyone else who'll have it by the 3rd of March 2014.

Toodle Pip and Viva Hampstonia, Japan!

Emmanuel 'Mustafa' Goldstein,
Emmanuel 'Mustafa' Goldstein.

Hampsdead?

Remorse & Gloom RIP.

I hate to be the voice of Doom & Gloom just before Christmas yet, with the pub of the same name being converted into another well needed estate agent's office; the Creperie de Hampstead opening only on weekends; Ye Olde White Bear - yes, I still defiantly call it that - potentially turning into a millionaire's pied de terre; The Vortex de Rosslyn Arms being left to rot indefinitely and Hampstead police station being very, very closed indeed, I think it's safe to say, Hampstead's having a rather shitty Crimbo this year.
    Yes, the Doom & Gloom hasn't been the Doom & Gloom, or even the Remorse & Gloom for some time but, whilst a public venue, there was at least a semblance of hope. Now, with it definitely turning into an estate agent's office, all hope for it - and I dare say Hampstead - is dashed.
    Having just published my first book, Hampstead Faces, Volume I, it would be a pity for my next to be titled something like Hampstead, Death of a London Village. Yet if Her Majesty's Government, Corporation of London, Scamden, Tesco and the Ministry of Cube Building have anything to do with it - that book may well yet find its way onto the shelves of Waterstones one day soon.

A Merry Christmas to you all,

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein,
Editor under a Hampstead Pond.

We Love Mr. Louis!

This is where to get the best mince pies in the world.

Thank you so much, Mr. Louis, for a beautiful tea and the best mince pies in the world this afternoon. It was both a pleasure and an honour to have tea with you today.
    I'm going to make a point of frequenting your lovely patisserie and one of the last bastions of tranquility and civilisation in Hampstead on a regular basis, henceforth. We Love Louis!!!!! Go to Louis!!! Viva Louis!!!

See you all there,

Emmanuel 'Mustafa' Goldstein.
Editor at Louis.

Down and Out In The Soviet Gulag...

Nelson Mandela R.I.P.

I am writing this the morning after Nelson Mandela died, which makes the Hampstead Faces gathering at West End Lane Books last night seem like rather an insignificant event. 

   The truth be known, it felt somewhat insignificant even though the dozen or so who'd braved the cold were, apparently, oblivious to the passing of a Twentieth Century icon. I certainly was.
   Quite possibly the small attendance was down to Mr. Mandela leaving his 'earth suit' aged 95 that evening, the cold weather or a combination of the two. Historic occasions, expected or not, will keep people planted in front of the telly on cold nights. 

    But I reckon the relatively poor showing might also have been down to what is, with liitle doubt, the huge cultural divide between Hampstead and West Hampstead. That is, that very few West Hampsteadites give a shit about Hampstead. Indeed someone suggested that we were in 'enemy territory'. It was, at least, very much an away fixture. A bit like Burnley v Arsenal on a cold winter's night.
   After all, there must have been nearly two hundred people at Waterstones for the book's launch in Hampstead two months ago. Tonight there were only around twelve, one of whom was clearly a suffering alcoholic with horribly filthy finger-nails who came in off the street and kept spilling his beer all over the shop's Parquet floor. 

   After I'd read the passage about Bronco from the book, this fellow felt at liberty to share with us all, at length, a tearful sob story about one of his old West Hampstead drinking buddies. 

   Remarkably, we all stood there listening to him for a full five minutes as the tears welled up in his eyes. To be fair to him, although I loathe the sight of a drunk old git hi-jacking my book reading, at least he made some sort of effort and seemed to inspire a couple of others to share their Bronco stories.    

   Realising this was not to be a best-selling day for Hampstead Faces - as almost everyone who'd made the trip from Hampstonia already had at least one copy - I resorted to picking up my guitar and singing George Harrison's For You Blue. 

   Fortunately this went down rather well, although, after the first verse,  three interlopers - obviously grimy, professional book-launch red wine free-loaders - left without so much as a by-your-leave.       

   Almost immediately, a large, lonely looking woman in a big stripy jumper entered the shop, put down her bags and helped herself to a glass of wine: it was almost as though free-loaders in West Hampstead have some sort of shift-rota in operation. And there in lies the cultural divide between Hampstead and The Soviet Gulag. 

Hampstead doesn't sell around here. 

Not one copy of my book was sold... Not one! A woman did come up to me to announce, 'Great, I've done my entire Christmas shopping here tonight, isn't it marvellous -  I've bought five books'. Unfortunately, not one of them was a copy of Hampstead Faces. At least West End Lane Books made a few bob. The staff there are all so nice and deserved something out of the evening.

   I must admit to feeling somewhat down and out in the Soviet Gulag of Whampers, yet quite relieved not to have wasted too much money on mince pies. I'd considered getting them from Louis but had, instead, shrewdly opted for Sainsbury's Basics on the grounds that they weren't too crumbly. And at £2.50 for 18 mince pies I felt delightfully Scrooge-like. The Soviets weren't complaining.

   I doubt though, even if the mince pies had been from Louis, I'd have sold any books. So, with a West Hampstead estate agent supplying the wine - there was even champagne, the Village Voice only ended up about £15 poorer on the night. 
   A small price to pay compared to the 27 years spent in an apartheid prison, the ultimate sacrifice made by Mr. Nelson Mandela who, although he probably never had the pleasure of a Louis mince pie, fought valiantly against a most hideous of evils and won: a most worthwhile innings, sir. The world is indebted to you.

  

Toodle Pip!

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein

Editor in Exile.

Hampstead Village Voice Crimbo Party

Danny of West End Lane Books sporting a copy of Hampstead Faces.

Yeah, alright... It's a conspiracy. We want to sell some books and magazines and are using Christmas in order to lull you all down to West End Lane Books in order to buy signed copies. Not only are we the evil capitalist conspirators consistently criticised (Ed. now that's what I call alliteration) in the Hampstead Village Voice, but also the most horrid of hypocrites for doing so... But now having come out honestly about it, although still evil, capitalist hypocrites, we are at least honest, evil capitalist hypocrites. 

Capitalist, Us? Never! Signed copies of Hampstead Faces Volume I will make the perfect Hampstead Christmas gift priced £12.99... er, Comrades.

See you at West End Lane Books tonight at 7.30pm for tea, wine, beer, mince pies and seasonal banter. 

Toodle Pip and Merry 5th of December, not even vaguely Christmas.

Emmanuel Mustafa Goldstein x

Editor in Exile in the Soviet Gulag of Whampers.

SUB-MISSIVE HAMPSTEAD

WE CAN SMELL IT ALREADY...

McCRACKDONALD'S TO GIVE WAY TO SUB-STANDARD SANDWICH?

It isn't even open and we can smell it already. The above, somewhat misleading poster might have builders wandering aimlessly around Hampstead for days.

by Emmanuel 'Mustafa' Goldstein.

It would appear McCrackDonald's regular advertisement on a redundant Hampstead telephone box has been superseded by one for the even smellier fast-food outlet, Subway. 

    Unless, as the wholly inaccurate arrow pictured above suggests, Subway intends to move into Gap Kids or Barclays Bank, it is an obvious clue as to the identity of the new tenants of Ronald McDonald's 'Crack House'.

   According to the Hampstead Village Voice’s High Street Spy, the venue, which previously played host to both Pizzaland and Europa Foods, has always been home to somewhat smelly and down-market establishments. So it appears that 'why change the habit of a lifetime' is the motto of the landlords at 46 Hampstead High Street.

   A spokesman for the Metropolitan Borough of Hampstead admitted, “It would probably have been better off staying as a McDonald’s. Whenever one goes into or near a Subway anywhere in the world it smells ghastly… quite repulsive. What on earth do they put in their food?”

   William Ill’s across the road now have Subway at 1/100 to take over, so if you want a Big Crack and Flies you’d better hurry on over to Ronnie’s now. 

I never thought I'd say this, but We'll almost miss McCrackDonalds.

Emmanuel 'Mustafa' Goldstein is the author of the new book Hampstead Faces, Volume 1, available at all Hampstead book shops now. http://www.hampstonian.co.uk/page_2981086.html