Carry on Camping

Ah, Brexit beckons and the starting gun has been fired for the referendum on 23^rd June this year. Cameron’s chaos is all around as Boris does the entirely expected and does what’s best for Boris; it is expected that a number of other Tory MPs will now break ranks with the PM and campaign to leave. This, of course, is the cue to ramp up the rhetoric. Tarzan Heseletine has waded in, although nobody could stay awake long enough to hear him repeat his Euro-drivel and blah, blah, blah, blah, blaaaah.

It’s sickening, all this fear-mongering. Despite forty years of contrary evidence David Cameron’s side (which will probably win, but be despised forever when it does) is trotting out all the usual, lazy blather: Our security is at risk outside the EU – it’s looking pretty dodgy as it is, thank you very much. Outside the EU our economy will suffer – yet our current success is despite, not because of the moribund union. More migrants will come if we try and control our own borders – only if you let them, you fools. And my personal favourite; Britons will no longer be able to get cheap flights to cheap holidays if we leave.

Because of course, Spain will be closed for business and British holidaymakers’ Euros will be worthless. Yes, the airlines will immediately hike the prices for the filthy foreigners that keep them in the air. The hotels will auto-demolish because British tourists will no longer be able to afford the punitive visa charges levied by the now enemy nations. And of course, Brits and their cash will be so unwelcome in the Eurozone that they will in future only be allowed to take their holidays in the UK.

Okay then, let’s assume that all those hilarious threats are true. Dodgy Dave, from whose camp comes such prophecies of doom said “We want to end the something for nothing society”. Well here’s the late news, Dishface, it’s already here and thriving. So much so in fact that entire families, indigenous and otherwise, live their whole lives on the state. We effectively pay them to be on holiday all the year round and they already do it right here in Britain. As Keith Moon famously sang on stage and on screen, “When you come to Tommy’s, the ‘oliday’s forever!”

Just as Blackpool has already done – or so it would seem if you ever dared to walk through its blighted streets – we could make all British resorts into enclosed exclusive holiday camps for the permanently unemployable. We already pay for their every comfort anyway – food, shelter, entertainment, healthcare, etc – so why not formalise it? Forget the concept of all-in holidays on the Costa Del Crime, we could have all-in lives on the Costa Dem Taxpayers, all packaged up and out of sight... behind razor wire fences.

Redcoats... so much nicer than brownshirts.

Natives and migrants alike, once you have lived in Britain without working for four years you get to wear the special wrist-band which identifies you as being entitled to a life free of care and worry. And furthermore, to the greater good of society, you get to live that life far out of everybody else’s sight. Some would say this solves nothing but it’s a solution all right; it may be the last solution we’d ever need. When you come to Britain, the ‘oliday’s forever...