Scholars are already obsessing about its true significance. Is it, perhaps, a reference to TS Eliot’s The Wasteland, composed in part in Margate? The figure is indeed Tiresias-like as it seems to possess both female breasts and male genitals. Or perhaps the artist merely forgot halfway through what he (or indeed she, or indeed both) was drawing.

In any case, if you find any similar examples of Thanet chalk art please feel free to send them in. Especially if they’re accompanied by approximately 100 words of absolute bollocks like the above.

So TS Eliot, the most famous poet with a tenuous link to the area, didn’t exactly write.

And now, in a frankly insulting trivialisation of a great poem, we’ve paraphrased Eliot’s words and applied them to Broadstairs’ end of year fireworks – or rather the lack of.

For the last ten years, Broadstairs has brought in the New Year with a firework display on Viking Bay. This year, however, the fireworks are cancelled – apparently late notice from the council on a risk assessment has led to the display being called off. Efforts made by local traders to reorganise the fireworks were unsuccessful with the council offices closed till next week.

It’s a big shame – the fireworks draw thousands of people to the town. My favourite image from last year’s event was the sight of a drunken couple heading up the high street on the stroke of midnight, walking yards apart from each other, clearly in the aftermath of a colossal row, while the fireworks went off in the sky behind them.

That’s the traditional way to end the year – with an argument.

Henry Johnson was spotted playing the Belgian Bar in Ramsgate when he was only 17 and he’s since gone on to work with a bunch of famous people in the music industry. He’s on the telly next week talking about the family crisis that has inspired much of his music.

We Need to Talk about Dad is on C4, 21 November, 10.20pm.

And, as luck would have it, he’s even got an EP out this week, available for download.

Oh, you think the Turner might be closed specially for The Queen? Hmm, hadn’t thought of that.

Kent Youth Arts are looking for talented young musicians, artists, bands and groups to perform at Kent Youth Arts Festival 2011 at Turner Contemporary, Margate on 3rd/4th December.

They are looking for a variety of performances and are interested in all styles and genres of music.

Please send at link to one of your tracks online to beth.james@kent.gov.uk by 7th November. Please also include your contact details and a description of you/your group.

About 20 skateboarders had spent the afternoon, well, skateboarding at the bandstand in Broadstairs. The protest was over the lack of a suitable place to skateboard in Broadstairs (apart, of course, from the bandstand itself and, oh yes, the skateboard place in St Peters).

The protest was broken up single-handedly by a policeman who failed to use any kettling or tasering techniques. Quite why the police chose to break up the protest at an otherwise deserted bandstand just before it got dark and all the children had to go home for their tea is unknown at this stage.

It’s shrewd because it answers directly some of the criticisms that were levelled at the opening exhibition (sometimes even by people who have never set foot inside the place). So there are more Turners – 15, including views of Thanet he painted when he was 11 and a rare self-portrait. There are plenty of genuinely big names – fancy popping along to Margate to see a David Hockney anyone? Andy Warhol? Phil Collins… (not that Phil Collins? Oh); and the galleries are rammed with exhibitions. It also has a significant local element and more than anything it clearly shows the long-term thinking behind Turner and its exhibition programme.

Because the shrewdest move is the theme. Everyone, pretty much, either is young or has been young at some stage in their lives (usually in the earlier stages). And whatever your age or your view on “art”, I challenge you to walk round the galleries and not find something that stimulates you, provokes you, or that you simply enjoy. If you don’t think you’re interested in art, this is an exhibition that may change your mind.

Perhaps one of the most bizarre and entertaining pieces is a video installation by Phil Collins featuring videos of young people from Turkey, Colombia and Indonesia performing karaoke versions of songs by The Smiths. There is something disturbingly universal about a teenager from Kuala Lumpur singing The Boy with the Thorn in his Side. Similarly, another video installation, Mark Leckey’s Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore shows footage of 90s ravers. It’s fractured and uncomfortable – and totally absorbing.

Obviously, karaoke and raving can’t really be considered art – we all know that. So there are pieces by Hockney, Henry Moore, Peter Blake, and of course Turner, whose painting Crossing the Brook acts as a coda to the exhibition.

Nothing in the World But Youth should be the spur you need to visit Turner Contemporary if you haven’t yet been. It will continue, I think, to pull in large numbers from outside the area. And if you happen to be lucky enough to live in the area, it warrants repeat visits. There’s enough here to keep you happy over several trips.

Of course, there will be complaints. Our predictions are for ‘Well, it’s not really art is it?’, ‘I don’t like arty-farty stuff anyway’ (which pretty much cancel each other out) and the old favourite ‘They should have built an ice rink’. My favourite complaint, spotted recently on a local blog, was that the Turner Contemporary toilets are too small – I feel even the complaints are now taking on a strange beauty of their own and, one day, I hope to curate my own exhibition of complaints.

Nothing in the World But Youth runs from 17 September 2011 to 8 January 2012. Closed Mondays.

So, ales. They’re making quite a comeback, and emerging from dodgy associations with morris-dancing gatherings and the like. Micro-breweries and small independents are now taking on the big boys, and fast putting up some serious competition.

And, happily for us, Kent – as the traditional home of the hoppiest hops known to mankind – is right there and up with the cool kids of artisan and craft beer making.

Our very own Thanet has been leading the way for some time, thanks to Ramsgate’s Gadds Brewery. Better still, ebullient head honcho, Eddie Gadd, uses mostly East Kent Goldings hops and other locallyish-grown varieties.

Up and running for nearly a decade, Gadds produces a range of fine draught and bottled stuff from pale ale to dark stout, including collaborative and seasonal specials (the latter, especially during the winter – although last summer, Eddie also made an excellent experimental brew, Green Hop Ale, from fresh hops, which he’s due to repeat this year). The beers come in varying strengths, so you can even let the mother-in-law indulge a little.

A quick scan of the internet (what? You think I leave my desk for this?) underlines how popular Gadds is with the punters – a verdict supported by a couple of Produced in Kent gongs for best Kentish beer. Best of all, Gadds is for sale only within this marvellous county. Quite right, too. Why share it with anyone else?

So do your bit for Thanet and Gadds, and get along to your local boozer sharpish.

Me, I’ll be back after a pint or three of the dog-bollocksing good Dogbolter.

Catch it, kill it, eat it. (Or just the first two if you’re a vegetarian. Or just the first and third if you’re Japanese. Or the second and third if it’s a domestic pet that doesn’t need catching, such as your dog or …)

What are we talking about? The Real Food Safari, that’s what. It’s coming to Thanet on the 6th September and it’s just the thing for all you wannabee Fearnley-Whittingstalls out there.  Take a boat trip from Ramsgate, catch a few fish then tootle off to the Coastguard at St Margaret’s Bay to eat what you’ve caught. Strictly speaking, it doesn’t say that you get to kill the fish yourself but I’m pretty sure if you ask nicely they’ll let you batter the poor creature on its head (before battering it all over and wedging a lemon up its arse). If you’re into killing things and eating them and you live in Thanet, then this has to be for you.

But, it must be said, not everyone likes killing animals. So what else is on in Thanet in September that might appeal to people who would rather see animals alive and happy?

Well, perhaps you prefer to see animals racing? Yes, you do? Then you’re in luck. The Hussar Beer Festival (9 – 11 September) features ferret racing (that’s right, ferret racing), horse riding and a, er, hog roast. Oh.

Okay, enough with the dead animals. Wipe the pig grease off your chin and set your mind to more artistic pursuits. Lovely’s Gallery in Cliftonville is hosting Nigel Rhodes’ new exhibition. An industrial screen printer by trade, Nigel’s latest collection is enticingly entitled ‘Post Penge – the Future’ (3 September – 1 October) and the exhibition features works such as “Nobody Paints Toilets” and “Gas.Electricity.Water.Marmite”.

So. Quite a line-up over the next few weeks.

As if seeing Wayne McGregor Random Dance, Pan OPTIKUM and Scanner perform together on the glittery sands of Margate beach wasn’t enough, the marketing was spot on, the suitably secretive relaying of information created just the right kind of anticipation.

But I should’ve known when I huddled under the Marine Drive viewing area with a take away Chinese that it wasn’t quite the best start to the evening. I hadn’t planned to spend my special fried rice moment alongside a teenager who accompanied my meal with the sound, smell and sight of projectile chundering. He clearly hadn’t had the foresight to devour a delicious gourmet meal beforehand like I was doing. Sick spring roll anyone?

“Onward and upward” I thought. Who wouldn’t want to celebrate – the streets were chocka, and I mean chocka, with people. Never have I seen such a swarm of eager bodies in Margate, not even for the opening of TC. This is going to be good.

9.10pm: Where to stand?

CLOCKTOWER! My fellow Blinkers and I seemed to have the same idea however as everyone else, at exactly the same time – who would’ve thought this spectacular event would inspire neuro-collision as well?! We’d already started the performance with some serious dilly dally prancing to find a suitable spot! I, luckily, was next to a loud-speaking local who peppered my evening with commentary. Thank goodness, as I clearly couldn’t work out that it was a busy evening and that we didn’t know what to expect.

9.15pm (the exact time the event was publicised to start): niente. Hmmpf. *Quick head turn, onto tiptoes*. Nope nothing.

9.20pm:
“Well, if you’re going to publicise an event at precisely 9.15pm, you really should ensure it starts on time” I thought. *Quick shake of head to see if anything was happening (and to rid the remaining sicky smell from my nostrils)*

9.23pm: ”Hang on, what’s keeps bobbing up and down in front of those people 10 rows in front of me?”

9.24pm: “Oh, it has started”

9.25pm: “‘ERE THERE ARE DANCERS OVER THERE, THERE ARE” said the delightful man next to me. Thanks Murray Walker, not sure I quite heard that. Hmmpf.

And this was my problem, I abstained for blinking for as long as possible (my eyelids are still sore) so as not to miss anything, but it seems that I did anyway.

Having seen Wayne McGregor Random Dance the night before at the gallery and knowing that the event organisers had recruited local young people to dance (a brilliant initiative which deserves a lot of praise), I knew that the performance would be mind-blowing. I just couldn’t see it. And unfortunately neither could anyone around me. I was surprised not to see big screens along the seafront and on the techy podiums so that the many thousands (and there were thousands – 30k they’ve estimated) could all enjoy the performance. Or perhaps raise the stage. So I settled to watch the rather beautiful projections on the Flamingo amusement arcade which were truly wonderful.

9.30pm: Little deflated, a twitchiness was spreading through the crowd and starting to linger. “Please get better, I’m sure it’s fab I just can’t see it”

9.31pm: Applause. Phew, well at least those people at the front enjoyed it.

9.32pm: Hang on what’s that?

9.32pm: Dancers in massive guinea-pig style balls crowd surf zorb styley along the beach. FIRE! Burning ring of fire! (No, not Johnny Cash or the after effects of curry, I had a Chinese remember). And dancers, on big stilty moving poles…. and look free running across white cubes. Could they be miniature versions of the gallery’s iconic cube shapes (hope not, but seems they are)?

“Wowsa, now we’re talking”.

9.33pm: Entranced

9.35pm: Freerunning on the tops of the cubes, the crowd have a beach zorb ball bounceathon, and then…

9.36pm: Shooting flame of fire in the sky!

9.36.5pm: Stilty pole performers (Pan OPTIKUM) twizzle and turn back and forth with fireworks shooting out their behinds.

9.37pm: Murray Walker “I just don’t gettit”

9.38pm – 10ish pm: Margate is transformed and a truly spectacular event gets underway lighting up the night sky with pyrotechnic wonders, massively talented performers, bold newcomers to dance and a crowd that cheers whoops and applauds, hoping it doesn’t end.

It got off to a quiet, subtle start but by golly, it really was a great night. Once it got going, BLINK sure did engulf every second with fabulous entertainment.

And to my friend Murray Walker, I’d like to share a little something with you – in my humblest opinion, sometimes, it really doesn’t matter about ‘getting’ something, it’s about the act of enjoying, witnessing and being a part of something. And something BIG.

To the 30,000 BLINKers that came on Saturday night, if you were a little disappointed you couldn’t see it all like me, just remember (as I have reminded myself) that you were there at all. And that a little while ago something like this never would have come to Margate, and the Arts Council and the partners may not have realised what an important project it was. But it did come this weekend and something extraordinary happened at the same time – 29,999 people shared the experience with you.

I didn’t BLINK and miss it, I blinkin’ loved it! And a huge congrats goes to the team who organised and performed it. Sure, there are a few things that could be improved, but I’m just looking forward to what’s going to happen next year… and everything in between. Margate wasn’t just bloomin’ marvellous this bank holiday, it was BLINKin’ marvellous – even in the company of Murray Walker and with the smell of sick wafting around my nostrils.