In the dying days of Victoria’s reign Cecil Rhodes is
said to have pithily declared: “To be born English is to have won first prize
in the Lottery of Life.” (This line is also credited to one Mr Kipling – presumably
in between making exceedingly good cakes.) For a century or more we believed
it, too. So much so that on several occasions during the last century newspapers
would regularly report the weather thus: “Fog in channel; Continent cut off.”
Nowadays the lines might read “To get into Britain is to win the Bingo of
Benefits” and “Never mind the fog; they built a tunnel.”
But at least there was always the fact that while you
could be born an Englishman and hold a birth certificate to prove it, the
closest you could get to that as an immigrant was eventual, grudgingly
bestowed, British citizenship. And that particular paperwork was certainly not given
out like confetti until very recently – ask Mohammed Al-Fayed. Despite what many
see as a massive decline in our fortunes and our desirability, still they come,
pretenders to the title; you can dress British, act British and speak like a
native, but to be actually born here is still a winning ticket.
But not if the EU gets its way because very soon the Royal
Crest which adorns my birth certificate will be denied the next generation;
they will emerge, crying, into the light as citizens of the European Union and
their birth certificate will say so. This is not advantageous to us in any way; in the past British
citizens were pretty much welcome anywhere because we traded with the whole
globe for many centuries before the current inept bureaucracy was dreamed up.
To be born British WAS to hold a passport to the world, whereas in future we
will have nothing to distinguish us from any other Eurodrone.
As ever the capitulists wave the blue flag as if they
were born under it. Paul Mason, Channel 4's News economics editor, doesn’t, want to
be English and Chuka Umunna is encouraging bosses to bully their work forces into seeing
the EU way. Vote ‘out’ in the referendum, he is effectively urging them to say
and you’re sacked. So much for reasoned debate. You will do as you are
instructed and forget those terrible olden days when free nations raped and pillaged
lesserfolk in pursuit of their greed. In future histories no good will ever
have come from the shameful adventures
of advanced European countries, save for the valiant efforts of the
comrades in union.
But why do we have to apologise for getting our shit
together, for creating the modern world? Why have African states been unable to capitalise on the technology
and business methodology already created? Why do they carry on killing each
other when they could cooperate and build a great successful continent? No individual
European country wants to take the African migrants, importing who knows what troubles they bring with them, but the faceless European Union would impose quotas. The
European Union has no borders.
Go west, young man!
But we have. As an island we have the perfect border and we should be
allowed to police it. You call me a Little Englander as an insult? I accept
that as a compliment and refer you to the wise words of Flanders and Swann: “The
English, the English, the English are best; I wouldn’t give tuppence for all of
the rest.” Now everybody grab an oar; lets pull up the anchors and get ready to
row west, where our lottery tickets have a better chance of winning; as far away from the European Union as possible.
Brilliant. A delicious hors d'oeuvre before supper. Keep on keeping on ...
ReplyDelete