(Tom Lehrer, Eat Your Heart Out)

If you’ve been following my nonsense for any length of time, you’ll be aware that I’m not exactly what you might call … well, okay, maybe ‘patriotic’ isn’t the word I’m looking for; in fact, an argument might be made that I am indeed very much so, insofar as I actually care what happens to my fellow countrymen and women … but not so much that I won’t simply up and leave the place in a blink of an eye, never look back and, if questioned reply with “I hope the place sinks beneath the waves, never to rise again”

You know how it is: I’m a world citizen and I care about people, not places, so where I live right right now is more important to me than somewhere I once lived.

But, satirical “If it isn’t British, it’s wrong” swipes at both the English

… and everyone else

… aside, I’m barely even patriotic, let alone jingoistically nationalistic and fortunate to be able to claim dual nationality and, therefore, disown the bastards, whenever they become even more of an embarrassment than usual (e.g. Brexit).

However, there are nevertheless things I like about the culture and, every once in a while I do find myself feeling emotional about it; the fact that the British are so quick to reach for a bottle or glass and smash it into your face, for instance ….

Or do you wrong with a bicycle chain …

‎‎

It’s the pragmatism I like — we don’t need guns, everyday objects will do just fine …

And, let’s face it … it’s much more menacing to be calmly told to fuck off with a South London accent than it will ever be to find oneself on the receiving end of some histrionic threat of “a cap in yo ass” with a yokel drawl …

(You can see why Aura’s knees tremble at the sound of Jason Statham or Idris Elba)

Similarly, the low-key, laconic, sardonic, (self) deprecating mentality … which is the sociopsycholinguistic counterpart thereof.‎

So, you’ll appreciate that I was almost moved to tears of pride when I read about the cultural difference between the US

… and the UK

Few and far between though they may be, there are still days on which I’m proud to be able to say I’m (at least half) British.

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There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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Where Angels Fear

Where Angels Fear

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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