Revolting British #ramble
It is Sunday morning and the sun is shining here in the Black Country despite everything. So I will start the day by sharing my thoughts with my readers because the news was a little revolting. I’ll start with a nice picture to cheer you all up.
This week the British revolted not only against their own government but the mighty European government of the European Union. This followed on from the Queen’s birthday celebrations when much flag waving was done, just to get us in a nice Nationalist mood. It wasn’t quite like the French revolution, no locking people up in the Bastille or chopping off heads with a guillotine. We’re British and so we do things like stop for tea half way through and have a couple of clowns leading at least one of the campaigns. There were competitions like ‘who can tell the biggest whopper’ and fun was had by all. It got a little out of hand when some crazy ran amok and killed a young MP but that was a bit of unfortunate collateral damage.
So children lose their mother and disabled people suffer. What does the practicality of it all matter when we can show the politician and the bureaucrat who is the boss? A new credit crunch became apparent on Friday as turmoil embraced markets around the world but it was worth it. It gave new hope to nationalists in Scotland and Sinn Fein in Ireland. If the politicians can’t give us subsidiarity, which was, after all, part of Maastricht Treaty, then we take it for ourselves.
Well done, you revolting lot!
I’m one of the admins of our local history page on Facebook and that can be good fun at times, hysterical in fact. I try to keep the page free of politics while posting odd bits of news and information. I like some of the comments from people who say they were born and bread (sic) here. Many remember the days before central heating when we sat around freezing waiting for the coal fire to burn up. Then we would get our toasting forks out and make toast with a slice or two of Hickinbottoms; it was grate (sic). The vote for Brexit was pretty solid in the Black Country as you can imagine.
I’ve always imagined Jeremy Corbyn as a bit of a Marxist and revolutionary but he was amazingly quiet. He probably has a sore bum from sitting on the fence for weeks. Bullingdon boy Boris, bumbled his way through as a key figure in the campaign hoping for the biggest prize, up for grabs when Cameron gave in. That job could be anybody’s now. ‘orrible Osborne had his name down but he blotted his copybook. I suppose Farage is the revolutionary hero of this nightmare but no one will invite him to the party.
This revolting mayhem cost people money, slashed pension pots and that sort of thing. I lost a few quid but in true British style I donned a Downton Abbey stiff upper lip and carried on. I may have muttered the word bugger at some point but we British don’t go wailing in the streets just because a hundred billion got wiped off our stock market. Do we?
I think I’ll end with some pictures. I have plans to go out and take pictures today but the great British weather changes by the minute. Images are great for sending out a message especially in a revolution…