CLOSE FOREIGN OBSERVERS of English life must find so many things that are part and parcel of everyday activity in Britain difficult to understand, but I am convinced that things are getting easier for them as the years go by. The major stumbling blocks are becoming things of the past: we no longer have a pound that is divided into 20 shillings, divided each by twelve pence, each of which divided into four farthings, some people understand what foreigners mean when they talk about litres, we know that a kilo is a unit of weight and, according to figures published by the increasingly dapper Gordon Brown and his friends in our government, more people are learning foreign languages than ever before, although I cannot imagine why.
ONE OF THE MYSTERIES in which our existence is shrouded involves our royal family. Many of the foreigners that English people can understand when they talk come from a country which has a president as its ruler, being convinced that electing the thief is better than letting the thieves decide among themselves who will rob you. But even these people adore the pomp and circumstance that accompanies the idea that one is royal because of divine intervention rather than the head of state due to the “swaying votes” of a bunch of grubby, beer-bellied, oily-handed motor mechanics from Wasabi County in Oregon, for example. And we in the UK do know how to market our royalty, who, in the main, are deserving, honest people who have little to do with the swindlers and chancers who get involved in politics off their own bat.
FLAME-HAIRED, LIVELY DUCHESS OF YORK Sarah Ferguson is one of these simultaneous mysteries and attractions. No one can doubt her dedication and devotion to her duty as a representative of what is best about the English Royal Family. I would like to here, personally, express my most sincere desire for the film that she has part produced, The Young Victoria, to become the success it ought to be. May it help her daughter Beatrice gain the self-confidence that only cameos can provide, and help Sarah herself forget the ugly times when the badmashes responsible for the gutter press had nothing better to do but write evil columns about her and her financial advisor John Bryan.
SARAH’S RECENT INTERVIEW ON SKY NEWS surely moved the nation. She showed a tenderness and concern for the average men and women of Britain similar to that shown by the Queen Mother during the Blitz, when she told Londoners to grow their own vegetables, presumably so that they would at least have healthy skin when the German bombs came crashing through the roofs of their slum dwellings. Sarah was genuine and sincere when she said she felt so “sorry for all these unemployed people”. “I’ve been there; I’ve been without a job”, she said. The nation was moved as one soul. We are with you, Sarah, including those of us who have never been caught on camera half-naked sucking Texan toes.
IN THE MEANTIME, in the same spirit of care and kindness, our government has announced a new plan to be considered “some time in the future” in order to increase our happiness and bodily wellbeing. As many visitors to our shores have witnessed, aghast, it is common practice among a large number of our young people to go out on a Friday or Saturday evening and drink large amounts of alcohol with the deliberate intention of getting drunk. Personally I have nothing against this, and I do not even mind very much when they beat each other to a pulp, damage themselves in all manner of frightening ways and then ruin their health by gorging themselves on so-called “junk” food like Kentucky Fried Chicken and Fish and Chips with mushy peas. Professor Sir Liam Donaldson, the government’s chief medical officer, however, is more concerned than I am. And so we have the recommendation to his masters to increase the price of alcohol to at least double its current, absurd levels. Research consistently shows, I am informed, that the only way to stop people drinking too much is to make it too expensive for them to buy. We do not know how lucky we are to have such kindly people at the helm. Perhaps they might consider putting a tax on chocolate in the near future.
ONE OF THE MYSTERIES in which our existence is shrouded involves our royal family. Many of the foreigners that English people can understand when they talk come from a country which has a president as its ruler, being convinced that electing the thief is better than letting the thieves decide among themselves who will rob you. But even these people adore the pomp and circumstance that accompanies the idea that one is royal because of divine intervention rather than the head of state due to the “swaying votes” of a bunch of grubby, beer-bellied, oily-handed motor mechanics from Wasabi County in Oregon, for example. And we in the UK do know how to market our royalty, who, in the main, are deserving, honest people who have little to do with the swindlers and chancers who get involved in politics off their own bat.
FLAME-HAIRED, LIVELY DUCHESS OF YORK Sarah Ferguson is one of these simultaneous mysteries and attractions. No one can doubt her dedication and devotion to her duty as a representative of what is best about the English Royal Family. I would like to here, personally, express my most sincere desire for the film that she has part produced, The Young Victoria, to become the success it ought to be. May it help her daughter Beatrice gain the self-confidence that only cameos can provide, and help Sarah herself forget the ugly times when the badmashes responsible for the gutter press had nothing better to do but write evil columns about her and her financial advisor John Bryan.
SARAH’S RECENT INTERVIEW ON SKY NEWS surely moved the nation. She showed a tenderness and concern for the average men and women of Britain similar to that shown by the Queen Mother during the Blitz, when she told Londoners to grow their own vegetables, presumably so that they would at least have healthy skin when the German bombs came crashing through the roofs of their slum dwellings. Sarah was genuine and sincere when she said she felt so “sorry for all these unemployed people”. “I’ve been there; I’ve been without a job”, she said. The nation was moved as one soul. We are with you, Sarah, including those of us who have never been caught on camera half-naked sucking Texan toes.
IN THE MEANTIME, in the same spirit of care and kindness, our government has announced a new plan to be considered “some time in the future” in order to increase our happiness and bodily wellbeing. As many visitors to our shores have witnessed, aghast, it is common practice among a large number of our young people to go out on a Friday or Saturday evening and drink large amounts of alcohol with the deliberate intention of getting drunk. Personally I have nothing against this, and I do not even mind very much when they beat each other to a pulp, damage themselves in all manner of frightening ways and then ruin their health by gorging themselves on so-called “junk” food like Kentucky Fried Chicken and Fish and Chips with mushy peas. Professor Sir Liam Donaldson, the government’s chief medical officer, however, is more concerned than I am. And so we have the recommendation to his masters to increase the price of alcohol to at least double its current, absurd levels. Research consistently shows, I am informed, that the only way to stop people drinking too much is to make it too expensive for them to buy. We do not know how lucky we are to have such kindly people at the helm. Perhaps they might consider putting a tax on chocolate in the near future.
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