10. Your people are always moaning!

(OK, so you should have stayed indoors)

“Oh, it’s raining”, “Oh, now its way too hot”, make up your damn mind’s will you? Its summer, it’s always unpredictable, how long have you lived in this country for? A scorching hot day and it’s all too much for you. We wait for 350 odd days of the year and the one day we do get YOU stay indoors COMPLAINING of the heat, well it sucks to be you indeed!

9. People who buy The Sun

I have nothing against people who buy The Sun. However, those that digest its news and regurgitate it as the most reliable source known to man are indeed those that are particularly grating upon the psyche. The Sun makes 90% of its stories up, but wait, come to think of it, I’ve just made up a bit of a Sun statistic right there.

8. Roundabouts

(Just another day in driver’s paradise!)

What are we but a nation of circum-pathetic people? Can we not grasp the concept of giving way at T-Junctions? Why are there so many roundabouts on our roads? Does our transport board really believe that we enjoy the motion of swaying around all too much? Going around twenty odd roundabouts on a ten minute trip is enough to make me regurgitate not only my stomach, but also atrociously inaccurate facts made up by The Sun.

7. We always lose

(I feel your pain)

Everything we do, we always seem to lose. Can we not be the best at anything? We can’t produce a single good Tennis player, yet Lawn Bowl’s stallions are plenty in abundance. We can’t produce a winning Football team, yet we dominate at sports that no one cares about, like rowing.

6. We drink far too much

(An all too common site on the street’s of “Booze Britain”)

It’s not so much that we drink more than our European neighbours’; it’s more the fact that we lack complete sophistication in doing so. Going into a pub, downing your favourite ale, then acting like a chimpanzee at a coronation ceremony does no justice to the image of our drinking culture. At least teenagers in other countries drink classier beverages like wines or spirits, there’s nothing more distressing than seeing a pissed up teen with an Alco-Pop.

5. Our roadwork’s are done in the day

Any transport department of any government with even half a brain knows that to do road works at the busiest time of day is tantamount to sending car drivers to an early grave. America does them at night, yet we think they’re stupid?

4. Our national lottery winners are always selfish

(Having a whale of a time!)

When was the last time you heard a story about them giving their winning’s away to a good cause? No. Instead they buy mansion’s, piss of their upstanding neighbour’s, wreck their land by churning it up with go-kart tracks, buy loads of booze, fags and drugs and jolly well enjoy the rest of their lives.

3. We don’t have a patron saint

(Come off it Georgie boy, we know you didn’t really slay any dragon)

St. George was an Anatolian or something. Anyway, he wasn’t from England and let’s face it he clearly didn’t slay a dragon. The only slaying he probably did was of a few English rose’s who he promptly boasted to about being a saint. Why must we be lumbered with this foreign liar for a national symbol?

2. The unknown warrior will forever remain unknown

(There’s just no justice in the world)

The Great War hero of WWI buried in Westminster Abbey is never going to get the credit he deserves until he’s given a name. Now, thanks to his anonymity even David Beckham beats him in a list of ‘100 Greatest Britons’: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/100_Greatest_Britons

1. The NHS is still rubbish

(Instills you with confidence doesn’t it?)

Contrary to Michael Moore’s “Sicko” trying to paint a pretty little picture of our national health service, it’s still really crap. You’re waiting for ages even if you have been skewered by a fork in the right testicle. You can also have a nice little superbug to go with it.

Southerners often scoff at the north; “It’s grimy, it’s bleak, it’s stupid”, some even go so far as to warn tourists that a trip there is pointless: “Oh you needn’t bother going past Birmingham, nothing else to see from there onwards”. Some think themselves better than their northern neighbours: “don’t you know all Scousers are vagrants and criminals?” So what’s so special about southerners eh? What makes them think there so much better? The answer is obviously unclear.

The name “United Kingdom” is bitterly ironic; how are we “united” when the north and south of England are divided, Wales and Scotland want independence and Ireland wants its northern part back? The problems may well stem from the second industrial revolution. By sheer chance, natural resources were more abundant in the north. Local supplies of coal, iron, lead, copper, tin and limestone resulted in excellent conditions for the development and expansion of industry. But the south raped the north of all its riches. Whilst northerners grafted on and risked their lives in dangerous mines, the fat cats of the south processed the materials and sold the outcomes.

One must read Orwell’s “Road to Wigan Pier” to understand the social discrepancies that exist between north and south. Despite being half a century old the book still remains prescient, the stereotypes it perpetuates and consequentially attempts to strike down, are still the same that the south holds towards the north today. Indeed, Orwell realizes these stereotypes are nurtured and developed when he states: “That was what we were taught–the lower classes smell”.

The north doesn’t smell, nor is it any bleaker than south. The north is home to good people, beautiful countryside and dominant football teams, it’s about time the south wised up.

Earlier in the week the Daily Telegraph reported that teams of police will be on guard to control crowds when a large new Ikea store opens in Coventry later this month. It’s hard to fathom exactly why police presence is required in the case of simply opening a furniture store. Is it that they’re they expecting hordes of middle aged couples to riot mercilessly over depleting stocks of an overpriced lampshade? Please don’t get me wrong, I realise Ikea shoppers are perfectly capable of reenacting scenes of the D-Day landings in their zealous attempts to snap up items like the Linford Christie designed shoe horn or the Wayne Sleep designed cat flap, so maybe police control is necessary after all?

Ikea’s invasion of our own nation very much seems to simulate these expectant scenes in Coventry. It rushed into our traditional pine furniture markets and killed them off in its pronouncement over the imperativeness of modernism and ergonomics. Even MFI is dying a slow death and as much as I had wished this is as a small child being dragged around its fitted office and kitchen spaces, I never stepped into an Ikea until much later.

Even then I don’t believe that I had to force my way inside, I believe I just walked in calmly and spent a nice Sunday afternoon wishing I had the money to buy a nice shiny little fork. I must admit though that I find it a little absurd this enthusiasm for people to go furniture shopping just to later be bamboozled with having to assemble nine pieces of irregular shaped wood with about seven types of screws. Still, I continue to wonder whether the citizens of Coventry will be relaxed in their response to the grand opening, or will the X-Factor be rudely interrupted by news broadcasts of an all out Ikea war in the Midlands? That would suddenly spice up a bland televisual experience of your usual Saturday night at home.

Sometimes the English can be downright sanctimonious. We cling on to sentiments because we feel it’s the right thing to do. It’s here I’m going to talk about a touchy subject, which shouldn’t be at all sensitive because time is here to help us all forget. The death of Princess Diana was a surprise to all. However, the most surprising thing is the continual existence of this legacy that her death glorified; it still continues to touch people fully. The media have a habit of picking things up and ceasing to drop them and Diana’s death is just one of their fixations. During the ten years since her death we have been continually reminded of her presence. This has come in varying forms; tributes, probing inquiries into the deep abyss of her private life, inquiries into her death itself and pure speculation about her last days. Was she pregnant? Was she engaged? I have to be honest that I am really too young to indeed care; I accept she was a role model to many people and that she was very committed to helping out others less fortunate, but when is the nation finally going to let things rest?

Death is finality, it happens, it’s sad, but then life moves on. There are deeper concerns we all face on a day to day basis. Diana did not touch us to the extent that we can cease to operate emotionally. To prevent people joking about her death because it is too hurtful on the memory of the nation is really too absurd a notion to fathom. The timing of jokes must be careful, but surely ten years afterward our sensitivities on the issue must be somewhat more relaxed.

Since I’ve probably stirred up a hornets’ nest already, can I just mention our nation’s reaction to the Madeline McCann saga? It’s been six months since her abduction and still the nation and the tabloids cling on to every news story they can make, like moths to a lamp. I cannot help but feel that her tragic disappearance has not been somewhat manipulated by the tabloids in order to sell more papers. However, excusals must be made in recognition of the simple fact that it is us the general public who still cling to her disappearance as if it consumes our every waking sense of being.

No disrespect intended, freedom of speech allows.

A day at work is time well spent, but what do you most not want to hear upon getting home? “Hello there, I’m calling from Dodgy Loans R’Us and we were wondering whether you would like to take out a policy with us and get routinely shafted in doing so?” To keep your cool is difficult enough; how fair this little upstart calls you up in your home with an irksome little proposition designed to frustrate the pants off you. You have to make concessions though, at least their being honest. Do you think they want to call you up any more than you want to answer the call?

The position of the telesales caller is one of supposed scorn, pity and ambivalence. However, the most hardened of callers must be admired by all those around, for the extreme command of language they possess. It is true most of their spiel is prompted by a computer screen, but their ability to think fast outside of their script is second to none. The little persuasive nuggets of language they possess are like magical beans in the hands of a toddler.

There are of course several approaches to their game: “You’re really doing me a service here”, this downright plea can be as particularly effective as brutal honesty: “Look I just need one more sale to hit my target”. However, the manipulation of the English language to form nice tantalizing little lies is the most common weapon of choice. “Hi there, I’m so glad to talk to you, how are you doing, how’s your day been, what are you doing later?” Peppering the recipient with questions is the easiest way to gain their confidence, it shows a little interest, or a subtle form of flattery if one chooses. But then when the rapport has been built and the opportunity is ripe; is when the caller must go in for the kill: “Ok Jan, so I basically called to ask if you’d take one of these policies off my hands so I can go home and feed my son whose desperately hungry and in need of a Twix, but then we can get back to chatting”. The success of such tactics on the older citizens of the nation is undoubted, but woe be tired if you speak to them in a foreign accent. Despite having a decent command of the English language, if you show anything but a slight trace of a foreign accent then you must expect to be shut out. Telecom racism is still fervent in our society.

In many British Universities there is a course of study that is commonly referred to as ‘American Studies’. In this course students are expected to learn about American history, politics and literature and spend time discussing and debating their views on the topics. Why then, can’t we ask; is their a similar equivalent in America?

‘English Studies’ or ‘British Studies’ could encompass the exact same principles, but students could be more enriched by the greater literature, greater history and greater politics of our (seemingly greater?) land.
The contrary argument does of course fall on the notion that America is the great imperialising power of our time.

However, can we not assume that it’s power is only short lived in a time of increasing globalisation and growing world economies? Can it really match the period of global dominance that the British Empire encompassed in it’s colonisation of 1/3 of the world?

Indeed it would be nice to see American college students learning about Thatcherism, Philip Larkin and Guy Fawkes. Also in connecting culturally with our society maybe the demonisation of America as an interior minded culture would begin to cease a little.

Perhaps these are just some of the aspects that we could expect to see on their syllabus:
- The death of David Kelly, the sexed up dossier and why we followed America to war
- The literature of J.K. Rowling and how Harry conquered the world
- The English football team’s perpetual failure to deliver glory to an ever expectant nation and the repurcussions it draws on a psychologically imbalanced society
- Why the English pub will never be an American bar
- Why we gave America up in the War for Independence

Perhaps a little more of this guy and a little less of Whitman?

I sometimes wish England could boast some more impressive flora and fauna. Instead of our native foxes, who are often very dignified but very scraggy can we not make a swap deal with the Phillipines?

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/619479/2/istockphoto_619479_fox_in_english_country_garden.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.istockphoto.com/file_closeup/%3Fid%3D619479%26refnum%3D463590&h=285&w=380&sz=74&hl=en&start=1&sig2=VsM5gBy-mtROGpi2X4EHiQ&um=1&tbnid=yTNVkqiIufeMzM:&tbnh=92&tbnw=123&ei=nJYkR5yBKJKc0gS6qKHBDg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dthe%2Benglish%2Bfox%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rls%3DHPIB,HPIB:2007-12,HPIB:en%26sa%3DN

Come on, it could be like football stickers. Our fox for your tarsier monkey? Obviously it would go to a good home right in the sticker album (or captivity pen) of the British landcape. Imagine encountering this little critter on a nice brisk wildlife walk.

Clearly we don’t have the ecosystem for such a cutsey little creature to survive but just this once can’t we just accept the horrendous facts of global warming and hope that our climate comes in line with that of the tropics? If we imagine just for a second what other wonderful creatures we could provide a home for:

Doesn’t this guy remind you slightly of a certain British PM currently in power?

For a large number of people buying a newspaper at the weekend is almost a religious ritual. There are those out there who are affiliated with certain publications in an almost devout – deity like relationship. These are the people who can never be torn from that publication they most commonly read. They are the people who would rather spit in the face, or rather the headlines, of competing publications when faced with the dilemma of insufficient stock levels. They may even get violent and throttle the unsuspecting vulnerable news agent who assumed it was safe to flick through the day’s tabloid headlines as they perch at the cash register.

Newspapers also tell us a lot about the person. Tabloid readers are usually insensitive to broader world affairs and want the cheap thrill of reading about some banal celebrity event. The tabloid reader is easily satisfied but generally restless; they often have to supplement their reading with the odd gossip mag or two, or five, or ten. Then there are those who buy newspapers purely for the nice little extra’s that usually accompany the weekend issues. Once these people get home the main bulk of the newspaper is discarded completely and becomes yesterday’s news in the very prescience of today. The item in question’s (usually an unsuccessful album or film) worth is in some views lower than the variety of interesting and exciting articles that the publication itself provides.

Buying a newspaper for the most recent Vinnie Jones film is absolutely fine, but please consider maybe reading a few of the articles next time such whimsical decisions are entertained. You never know you might just discover something interesting about the world.

 Vinnie Jones, a hollywood downfall as of late?

Plain lazy, opinionated, messy, unhygienic, loud, troublesome, unreliable – (to name just some of the adjectives commonly in discourse with them). Is the english student really deserving of such a bad rap?

Let’s turn to my own experiences. It is true I have heard some real horror stories, students tearing down furniture, walls, or even each other from houses they are commonly letting. Does this mean that the average British landlord has every right to rip us off? Many sight their concerns over the violent seething underbelly that they assume exists in most students, commonly housing the idea that all students are destructive types intent on causing injury to their property. Maybe in some areas of the country such attitudes can be justly validated, but why in areas where students have a proven record of being conscientous, mindful people must they continue to be oppressed by their landlord and letting agent?

The world can take note that the modern student is feeling the oppressive effects of corporate business and private landowners. We are tired of being stereotyped as apathetic and uncaring. The truth is most of us recognise the stresses and strains of owning property, we work hard to keep that property over our heads and we ensure that good care is taken in order to reflect positively on oursleves. England must look after it’s students more carefully and show us some more sympathy. We are helping to build this country and to take it further into the twenty first century, we do not need our elder community’s to foster such resentments toward us.

Source : http://www.flatrock.org.nz/topics/info_and_tech/assets/messy_desk_contest_winner.jpg

In no way do student’s rooms look like they’ve been worked in as much as this.

After attending a recent standup comedy show which was being filmed for a show called ‘Comedy Blue’ on the Paramount Channel, one comedian’s musings hit me particularly hard. The comedian in question, a Canadian, began to comment on his view of the nationals of two opposing yet strangely similar nations: England and America.

‘I love you English, because you don’t seem to be bothered by anything’: the statement in question, seemed particularly presumptuous on the behalf of the view of someone relatively outside of the culture. However in his comparison there seemed to be a critical point. His point of reference, as already mentioned, were the people of America, in which he argued seemed to care about absolutely all and sundry. ‘It’s refreshing to meet people who simply pick the toppings off of a Pizza they have ordered, rather than harangue the order taker’. The point in question seemed to ring particularly true in my own experience with American people.

I have to agree that these Americans do seem a bothered type, they appear constantly on edge. Insult any part of American culture and you will hear infinite cries of defense from proud nationals that may even be harboring sympathy for the argument in question deep inside. Of course, the hiding place is well submerged; to expose it to other Americans would be as good as committing social suicide. I remember back to the time I was waiting in a bus queue in Miami, someone cut in, and a fight broke out. I couldn’t help but feel that the situation was a major overreaction; everyone boarded the bus less than a few minutes later. 

  ——— (A detailed reconstruction of the scuffle)

So are we English simply a calmer sort, or are we simply less forceful in voicing our irritations? Maybe it is an economical thing; our largely less prevalent class divisions seem to render everyone in a sort of ‘same boat’ situation. In America, a country so diverse, the classes are battling with one another to improve their very situations, in such a tense society, can rash decisions and voiced irritations be something we should be sympathetic toward?