Englishness as opposed to Britishness....

August 26^th – There’s been a plethora of interest over the past five or so years in what it means to be British. In all forms of meeja the formulation of tests and those cheeky twins, checks and balances, have been discussed and mulled over, usually in order to distinguish who is and who is not a terrorist… Past conversation at MI6 Interrogation unit:

MI6 Man: “Can you whistle ‘Rule Brittania’?”

Suspect: Whistles appropriately.

MI6 Man: “Are you or have you ever been a terrorist?”

Suspect: “Nope”

MI6 Man: Have you ever blown yourself or anyone else up?”

Suspect: “Nope.”

MI6 Man: Shows three pictures, one of the Queen, one of Johnny Rotten and one of Osama Bin Laden (pre-decease). “Do you recognise anyone here?

Suspect: “The lady’s familiar…think the other played in a band…sorry, that’s all.”

MI6 Man: Holds up three pictures, one of fish and chips, one of a burger, one of a chicken tikka masala with a side of rice and a garlic Naan. “Have you eaten any of these recently?”

Suspect: Points to chicken tikka masala with a side of rice and a garlic Naan. “Had that last night…the others…? Not sure; maybe…”

MI6 Man: “Right. British through-and-through. Off y’ go, Jolly Jack Tar.”

Here in the good ole’ UofK what we’ve done now is cut through all this psycho-babble bullshit and decided just to arrest folk on a whim, on the colour of their socks, the cut of their jib (whatever that is) who they may know, who they may not know…anything really…we only have to be suspicious that they may be a terrorist even if every fibre in their past history points the other way: we can stop and search, interrogate without other witnesses being present, without any form of legal representation for up to nine hours; we can confiscate what we like and not return it for seven days (if at all) and to refuse to  answer any question is counted as a crime;

“The right to silence? Fuck off; no rights, you have no rights; as far as we’re concerned you’re a terrorist.”

And none of the usual checks and balances will count for diddley.

Consider this for a moment, then you’ll understand the calibre of the men and policies that govern us here…and probably never sleep soundly again.

We are the populace under the greatest number of surveillance cameras per capita head in the world; we have our internet correspondence and telephone calls monitored by our security services on a 24/7 basis without our knowledge or tacit agreement; we have the most draconian social service laws in Europe and are subject to a system that seeks to divide the spoils of governing a country to the highest bidder, a society that sees might as right and where money and nepotism run the upper echelons of our industries, information provider and commerce sections. Where access to power overrides health and safety concerns, where the 30 year rule guarantees immunity from prosecution for the traitors, killers and dissemblers in government; a country governed by those who see the necessity in slaughtering hundreds of thousands of innocents in the search for cheap oil and challenging religious beliefs, which will assure the continuation of power in the hands of the few, is seen as a heroic stand against the forces of evil, but who also believe that when a man or woman stands to accuse a government of wrongdoing, he/she is branded as a terrorist and imprisoned for life; where the forces of national protection, of law and order are turned against their own people to shore up poorly made, ill thought out and divisive policies made by the governing body and only serve to favour the longevity of the status quo; a country where history has taught us what we now accept as a certain fact, the people in power, will destroy their own people (socially, mentally, physically, both singularly and en masse) in order to service their own ends…

Doesn’t read well, does it; makes you think just where the point is in being classed as British. If this was offered up as a vote-catching vision of Utopia you couldn’t give it away, could y’? These ideologies weigh on me pretty well all the time; it’s why I cannot and will not trust the word of our ruling class, why I want to find out for myself the truth or otherwise of a policy or statement. I guess the obvious come-back is, in my seemingly jaundiced opinion, why I would want to consider myself a part of or a member of such a society. Fair comment and one to which my answer may seem light or airy-fairy, but here you have it anyway.

In a nutshell, I only have to listen to The Lark Ascending composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams (who died this day in 1958) to know what it mans to be not just British but, more succinctly, to be English. Not gonna go into the breakdown of the piece, mainly ‘cos I’ve not the vocabulary to do it justice, but the feeling I get in my breast every time I hear it…? Our island history and spirit right there in that composition, and it makes me ever more determined never to give in to the forces of slap-down: if I do they’ve won…and I’m buggered if I’ll give them the pleasure.