Comments on: Ways to clear congestion

By: Squander Two

Squander Two — Wed, 08 Jun 2005 10:45:00 +0000

> wouldn't it be simpler to whack an enormous surcharge of fuel

We already have. And there we see the problem. We already have road tax to pay for roads, except that it now just goes into the Treasury and gets spent on any old thing. And we have fuel duty to pay for roads, except that it now just goes into the Treasury and gets spent on any old thing. So we'll soon have road pricing to pay for roads. Any ideas where that money will eventually go? Then we'll need another tax....

How about introducing a system of strict demarcation in the government's internal accounting? You raise money for roads, you spend it on roads — no syphoning it off for something else. And itemise the tax bill on people's payslips. That might work.

By: Ally

Ally — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 13:23:00 +0000

I think anything that gets cars off the roads is a Good Thing, and I think there is a place for ‘congestion charging’ – but also think Biscit has a point; wouldn’t it be simpler to whack an enormous surcharge of fuel, rather than mess about implementing an expensive new system?

By: Biscit

Biscit — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 12:33:00 +0000

Cutting taxes is best done by raising thresholds at the bottom, because it doesn't benefit those who earn more more.

I'm really rather negative on road pricing on the grounds that fuel taxation seems a fair way of taxing motoring: if you use more you get charged more. Road pricing is either going to be a community charge of driving, or hidiously complicated and a nightmare to implement.

By: Squander Two

Squander Two — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 09:22:00 +0000

Glasgow turns into gridlock every rush hour, simply because everyone ignores the yellow boxes. I don't understand why the polic don't crack down on it: from their point of view, it's easy pickings: hundreds of crimes detected and solved in a single day; it'd do their stats good and put the wind up motorists for the next few weeks, improving the traffic and makign everyone's lives better. And it's not as if Strathclyde Police do anything to combat dangerous crime, so they should have plenty of time on their hands.

Can I just mention fucking bus drivers who don't enter yellow-box junctions until there's enough room for a fucking Corsa to exit? Cunts.

By: Lorna

Lorna — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 09:18:00 +0000

Mark Holland wants to carry out airstrikes on people who tow caravans. Fair play - as long as I get to fire rocket launchers at the stupid fuckjobs who block box junctions.

Nah, it lacks poetic justice.All manner of godawful drivers need to be made to unicycle to work, with a flat tyre, on a motorway, surrounded by sleep-deprived lorry drivers crazed with caffeine and misanthropy.

I spend too much time thinking about this. When I'm not yelling "LEARN TO FUCKING INDICATE" at the car that just nearly flattened me. Pedestrian rage. I'd be truly threatening if I went at 50 mph and were made of metal, but I don't and I'm not.

By: Tim Worstall

Tim Worstall — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 07:22:00 +0000

Temple Meads is indeed for the connysewer.

By: Chris Lightfoot

Chris Lightfoot — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 07:19:00 +0000

I think more of this airstrike/rocket-launcher thinking needs to be applied to motorists who stop their cars in cycle-lane forward stop boxes.

By: N.I.B.

N.I.B. — Mon, 06 Jun 2005 06:50:00 +0000

I can only recommend a trip to Bristol Temple Meads station for the true box junction connoisseur. Take up your seat outside The Reckless Engineer public house and enjoy the show! All the normal stuff happens - largely cars jumping the lights at the pedestrian crossing, only to 'notice' the queue on the other side of the box and stop dead - it's all predictable enough.

But the real sport is courtessy of the *incredibly* aggressive taxi drivers trying to turn right out of the station. These guys are unreconstructed, traditional cabbies of the best/worse sort (delete as applicable). They certainly seem to communicate using their car horns and the two top expetives alone, and that's just ordering a cuppa from their cafe in the station.

So woe betide the fool trapped in the yellow box, who will soon find themself praying for the queue to move, while simultaneously developing that strangely warm sensation between their legs as a the dirty great hollering cab bears down on their nice, shiny nearside wing.

It's poetry in motion, I tell you.