(image credit: conservativehome.blogs.com/thetorydiary)Hey, Britain: It took a couple hundred years or so, but now you're finding out how much fun it can be to put on the war paint and dump despotism in the harbor, eh?
I'm so excited about
this I could turn cartwheels! --
"It was standing room only at the Boston Brighton Tea Party organised by the Freedom Association early this evening at which Dan Hannan was guest speaker. He said that it was time to 'bring sanity and order back to the public finances' and that had to be done by reducing expenditure rather than increasing taxes."
People ... this is HUGE.
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Okay, having lived in Britain (specifically, Chesham, England) for three years back in the '80s, I came in for my share of anti-American sentiment. (I didn't live safely insulated on an American base -- but rather in a beautiful little Victorian semi-detached smack in the middle of small-town Buckinghamshire.)
I shopped at the local Sainsbury's supermarket. Without fail, little old ladies let me know in subtle but no uncertain terms just what exactly what they thought of Americans. (As only the British can.) One of my favorite stunts: Getting my ankles gently, but unmistakably, bumped from behind with someone's cart while waiting for checkout. (bump ... bump ... bump ... Me, turning around: "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" She: *staring off into space as if I didn't exist*)
Just before I moved into the house, the landlords held a small dinner party to welcome us there. Four other folks, besides me and my ex-husband. One dude, a supercilious David Warner lookalike named Julian, acidly inquired whether I had heard that the city of Liverpool was buying American garbage to disintegrate. (The general idea: Decadent American slobs have to offload their detritus onto the poor, long-suffering ally stepchild.)
Well, thanks for the hospitality, Cuz. I'll ring up my rich corporate pig overlords straight away and have that nasty rubbish removal subcontracted to the French, instead, shall I?
Then there was the conversation with some weedy chick who couldn't be bothered to wash her hair much more often than once a month. She launches into me: "You Americans and your McDonald's -- ruining our culture."
I lost it.
I said: "Look. No one is forcing Britons by the thousands at gunpoint to eat there. The food tastes good. People like it. They buy it. Maybe if 'British cuisine' wasn't such a joke, you wouldn't NEED Mickey D's."
And I said: "You Britons used to rule the world. Your goods used to set the gold standard for quality. It's not MY fault you voted in a bunch of bloodsucking, ideologically poisonous Labour idiots who flushed your economy down the toilet. You started to get it right with Thatcher, but then you pissed it away AGAIN. So don't cry to ME about supply and demand."
And then ... I'm not proud of this (well, actually, I AM): "Anytime you guys want to become our 51st state, say the word. At least you'll enjoy a good feed."
Well, that was then. This is now.
After decades of EU-driven emasculation, Britons are waking up to realize Nanny does NOT know best. In fact, Nanny is the evil demon of darkest nightmares. C.S. Lewis's White Witch.
The nation that gave the world Sir Isaac Newton, the Magna Charta and Adam Smith -- and our own Founding Fathers -- is beginning to reclaim its mind, its soul, its essential Britishness and its future and its happiness -- back.
No real Briton ever, EVER lets someone do his/her thinking for them. Never has, never will. The post-Thatcher interlude was just a bad dream. Dawn has broken.
Welcome back, friends. Drink lots of tea. It's the original British pastime, after all :)
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(P.S. For each of the nasty Britons I encountered, I met -- and made friends with -- many, many more. Mrs. Badcock and the ladies of the Chesham church ... God bless you, my dears, and your families. Jane and Andrew, you kooky, loving and caring hippies ... I hope lots of people are buying your veggies at market. Dr. Kathleen S., you sweet Scot: Thanks for helping my Maggie come safely into the world.)
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Britain is awakening. So is the rest of Europe, if
this is any indication. Praise God.