The Tale of the So-Called Miners

Once upon a time, in a Mountain, high above the hills of a quiet, little town on an island that the locals call the “Mother of Wales” some unknown Englishmen came from a land where wearing aprons (in an attempt to fool the public into thinking that they were good “brothers”) was the norm. These wobbly-handed folk seemed to think that they were master craftsmen, that they were miners from days of old, and were better than the local countrymen. But, they were wrong.

For 35 years they tried to convince the public that they would be bring much wealth and prosperity to the area, but all they did was bring misery and deceit. They were akin to medieval tax collectors. They would pretend that they would help the townsfolk of a little mining town called Amlwch, but they did little to help. In fact, all they would do is lie and deceive people for decades with a cock-and-bull story that one day…one day…they would start mining in the area, and they would be the saviours of the poor town, a town which struggled for jobs and investment.

Little did they realise, however, that some people could see through their lies and would strive to let the world know that these so-called “Mining Executives” were nothing but con merchants…nothing more, nothing less. Soon, their lies would be found out and men with truncheons and hand-cuffs would take them away to a bleak and miserable gaol in a far away land where they would be locked away in a Tower until their dying days.

The Moral of the Story:

Do not try and fool a Welshman, for he can see right through the lies that the apron-wearing wobbly-handed brigade at Anglesey Mining Plc are trying to portray as being the truth. Sooner, or later, the truth always finds a way.

Remember children, never trust a stranger who pretends to be something that he is not. ‘Tis better to listen to one who has experience of the truth than one who pretends to have experienced it.