dear olde englande, basking in her glorious past castles history battles bravery monarchs of every hue (not really, only whities) and so much more as immortalised in the words of the fucking bard of fucking avon to be or not to be that is indeed the fucking question except it’s a question english schoolchildren wouldn’t be able to answer having been mis-educated by a load of lefty bastards who could hardly spell their own fucking names right if they tried a couple of times and how proud we should be of our great history remembering how once upon a time not so very fucking long ago a quarter of the atlas was coloured pink and was ours india south africa australia new zealand and cold canada all ours ours ours all ours to plunder and colonise raping and killing off the nignogs and currymunchers carting back the goodies to pack out our stately homes and laughing about the funny unwashed fuzzy-wuzzies we’d left lying in the poverty-stricken dirt and dust outside their rotten little disease-ridden mudhuts except that of course the crushed indian civilisation was about a thousand years older than ours but who cared a flying fuck they were brownies and did not really count compared to proud brits and it's not as though the nice english upper classes were exactly kind to their fellow countrymen is it now after all remember when england’s navy ruled the waves and englishmen would never ever be slaves or knaves well that wasn’t totally true was it because the crews of britain’s navy were press-ganged and subject to inhuman punishments right left and centre for not touching their greasy forelocks fast enough as an officer came mincing by keel-haul that man mr midshipman! and then a few dozen strokes of the jolly old cat o nine tails will teach him just what a worthless piece of shit he is god save the king! and victorian england oh what a brave new world that was (another Shakespeare quote how important that fucker is) where little boys climbed up and down narrow chimneys getting all sorts of nasty diseases in their nasty little working class lungs but who cares lots more where they came from why dontcha know the working classes copulate like animals and we’re just doing them a favour letting their ugly offspring die before their time and in any case what about our justice system which was and is the envy of the entire civilised world what sort of justice was it which sentenced children to death for stealing a loaf of bread even when the midget queen sat on her fucking jewel-encrusted throne in splendour and judges shoving thousands of starving men and women into the prison hulks lying in the polluted thames waiting for a ship to transport them in chains to new south wales or tasmania can you bloody well imagine it only the aristocratic english could discover australia and not realise what a lovely place it really was and instead use it as a dumping ground for convicted felons which explains why all australians are just a load of jumped-up convicts with no more manners than a flatulent carthorse and england yields to no one in terms of religious persecution drag those catholics to the fucking stake pour scorn and hate on jews why even lovely william shakespeare our national treasure and single greatest contribution to language and literature hardly had many good words to say about poor old shylock and charlie dickens portrayed fagin rather well I think as an evil hooknosed probably pederastic pickpocketing old abuser and that leads me on to pederasty a fine olde englishe sport much beloved and praised in our leading public schools of yore they say the battle of waterloo was won on the playing fields of eton more like in the school lavatories judging from the pained expression on obliging young laddies' faces as their elders and betters ritually sodomised them in the absence of anything tastier on offer oh bugger me I seem to have been concentrating on england alone and never mentioned bonnie scotland that northern extremity and wild place that dour land of mist and heather and whisky and phoney kilts well what a fucking dump apart from the scenery which is nice if you like that sort of thing but the poor crofters didn’t have much time to look at the mighty purrrrrrple mountains and the lovely glens when the king’s soldiers came and set fucking fire to their smelly dwellings and butchered their kiddies and fucked the living daylights out of their women so as to provide some material for hollywood films made by stupid assholes to pander to lowgrade tastes in a cinema near you one day in the future oh dear me yes and now how about wales I hear you ask well what about it a load of stupid coal-faced dwarves singing silly songs in hideous brick-built nonconformist chapels in the valleys so green apart from the horrid slagheaps and ill-ventilated mines below another chance for a warm and sentimental film about god-fearing folks look you boyo taffy wearing silly druidic hats and with a twelve-inch leek shoved up their arses to twist their skinny inbred mouths to get their lips around their tongue-contorting so-called language and everyone hates the welsh stupid little whingeing bastards even nowadays why anyone ever let them out of their filthy coalmines god alone knows at least the first world war allowed us get rid of a few of them and a well-planned process of denigration over hundreds of years has left them well at the bottom of the social pecking order it really is the kiss of death for anyone in public life to talk with a singsong taffy accent as everyone laughs till they shit themselves one must not forget dear beautiful ireland john bull’s other island as that garrulous bearded boring old fart george bernard shaw so very eloquently put it in some dreary dragged-out play or other well ireland’s green and lovely land has certainly seen its share of england’s bile from time fucking immemorial yes indeed I think you’ll find we have had to teach the paddies a ting or two or tree and begorrah but they do not seem to get it into their wee thick skulls that they are just a load of illiterate micks only fit for building roads and fighting in the trenches and dying and having their thatched cottages set fire to because they would not pay their rent to the absent english landlord and what with the potato famine and whatever else they bellyached about can you really blame them for buggering off to america so as to import criminality into the new york police department and what about the black and tans what a lovely load of oul’ fellers they were and all and all and why the hell should proud england give the green fenians the time of day no wonder the i.r.a. had so little difficulty in recruiting and now at last we come to the twenty first century and let’s survey our lovely land this sceptre’d isle this britain this jewel set in the cold grey north sea which keeps the wogs out or at least it kept the huns out in the war but no longer as we needed to ship in a load of blacks and browns to do the dirty rotten jobs we were to proud and or lazy to do our fucking selves in the fifties and sixties and look where it’s got us now what a totally grand fuck up we’ve got smelly jamaican ghettos in every major city where you really cannot walk about without getting a machete in your back and the noise of murderous rap booms out of pink-painted battered old fords without any proper insurance or road tax and the police are too shit-scared to do anything in case they get accused of racial harassment in by slimy leftist politicians and there’s untold millions of hardworking indians and pakis working every hour which god in his infinite fucking mercy sends so much so that in some urban areas you can barely breathe for the stench of stale vindaloo made out of neighbourhood moggies and the fascist newspapers stir up hatred with lying stories of a new wave of scrounging eastern europeans bent on stealing the welfare state handouts which are every underclass briton’s natural birthright so let’s all go and join the british national party which wants britain for the british (whites only no darkies please) and yet the middle classes retain control mainly by embracing and including people previous generations would have never deigned to blow their educated nostrils' content out upon even in time of war and so these be-jeaned and bejewelled scum strut around vainly bellowing a load of loud-mouthed shit into their mobile phones and looking forward to another mindless evening in front of their tv sets watching pulp garbage pumped out by media moguls and lapping up celebrity news about unknown sluts whose only claim to fame is that they may or may not have been shagged by a football player oh my god I forgot football that all-levelling game played by overpaid louts and one of the few areas where it’s ok to be a coon as long as you can kick a ball straight and three cheers for enger-land enger- land as yet again our brave lads lose out in the stupid game we invented and have a pity on the poor germans who have to put up with the million or so pot-bellied beer-soaked tattooed flabby freaks we call football fans and this is what the british tourist authority wittily invites the world to come and sample and be overcharged for as an added benefit come friendly al-quaida bombs and cleanse britain’s augean stables of this filth and restore my country to what it was in good olde englande's golden days of glory