This is brilliant not just for a nice little laugh but also from an educational viewpoint. The video makes a host of good points, the fact that the word transcends adjectival, noun and verb use is particularly unique. It’s flexibility and evolution is particularly interesting. The fact that its now so easily bounded about, makes one wonder where the fate of the language’s last taboo word (the ‘c’ word) lies. Is it now a dying word that has a limited effect?

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.

The process of cycling is indeed more difficult than the eye suggests. Last weekend to my great suprise I saw a rather portly fellow riding a Penny Farthing along a busy main road. It occured that for a moment I had reverted back to the 19th Century and was no longer concerned with driving my automobile, but rather how to be an upstanding Victorian Gentleman.

Then after reading your post it all made sense. Penny Farthing’s were made so large precisely for the reason you highlight: that is in order to not get too dirty. The beneficial hight of the contraption not only gives you the air of certain superiority but also maintains that your fresh garments stay nice and clean.

You all know the song; it’s the one everyone hums: “la la la to, before all shouting “In an English Country Gaaaarrrrdeeeen” right at the end. It’s almost a cathartic experience just to shout this last line out with a familiar group of people. However, how many of us have actually sung this song in an English Country Garden?

The noun: “English Country Garden”, makes an ordinary garden seem something quite unique to England, when in fact most countries have them. A Garden is nothing new, but I do suppose it is a status symbol for wealthy land owners, a cabbage patch cannot after all be considered a ‘Country Garden’.

“But what is inside a country garden?”

Well I’m glad you asked! According to the song there are a lot of sweet flowers, insects and song birds. Nothing that really sets apart the English garden from say a Chinese garden, which I assume also has a lot of sweet flowers, insects and song birds, but you know how we Brits try to be unique. The cuckoo and the quail, bobolink and tanager supposedly set the English Country

Garden apart from the rest, but may I ask how many people would be able to identify the ‘bobotwink’ or the ‘teenager’? Which gets to my next point; that the aesthetics of the country garden are no longer cared for in the ever increasing urbanity of modern day life. As transcendentalism encourages us; we must flock to our countryside, our refuge and our great symbol of calm and of order. It is there can we find our peace right in the heart of

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?

Shouldn’t newsreaders just stick to familiar metaphor’s, tired old cliche’s just turn an audience off. In this case your comment on the news reader who couldn’t even get it right is justly valid:

“Opened a hornet’s nest? Surely it should be ‘stirred‘ a hornet’s nest, but opened a ‘Pandora’s box‘?”

Can I ask whether or not it did indeed turn you off the program or did it instill in you a deeper ranging interest in the hope that the presenter would continue his tirade of malpropism’s? Maybe the question is did the audience really care or even notice?

Getting a weekend takeaway in this country is almost as natural as washing on a daily basis. Come the weekend after a hard week’s work when there is no food left in the house and no effort left in the body to cook, the only viable option is hitting up one of the many wide ranging culinary establishments the high street has to offer.

Then again there are those takeaway restaurants that are not always the easiest to spot. In desperation of having no suitable location some of these estabilishments are often converted ground floors of houses. The waiting room of a takeaway restaurant is interesting enough in itself. There you can usually find a wall bracketed TV playing a feast of Saturday night shows like Ant and Dec’s Saturday Night Takeaway - oh lucky you to have stumbled in at such unfortunate timing.

After paying your fees and receiving your little banquet you then have to prepare yourself for war. Outside there lurks several hooded youths who menacingly stand around swearing and smoking, casting intimidatory glances. Forgive them, they know not what they do. Years from now they will have refuted their ways and assimilated into British society, forming the new landed gentry of tomorrow, but until then just get home safely. 
So eventually you do get home, eat your greasy feast and retire yourself to a lazy night in. “The food was well worth it” you think to yourself; “but I’ll do the washing up tomorrow”. Wakng up the next day with the stench of grease lingering in the air and an awkward stomach you swear to yourself never again, but like a bad rash you try not to itch, you always go back.

One of England’s finest takeaway establishments, source: http://www.leeds.gov.uk/images/2005/week33/b8b57234-fbc3-4cc3-

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?

Wow! You are describing an experience I have regular pain with in leiu of my particular transmogrification over my teen years. First there was the provisional driving licence at the age of 16, with a army style crew cut, then there was the real drivers licence that came at a time I had particularly long hair but still used the same old picture. Then fast forward four years, I still have the same picture on the ID but a completely different facial outlook (more weighty, more pale). Even my friends find it difficult to accept that this picture on my driving licence is me and they have scrutinised my face many times over, ‘you were so ugly’ they echo, perhaps I still I am.

Never has anything dominated the lives of OAPS, housewives and students alike as much as that of television soap operas. Here in England our most popular soap operas receive a large proportion of viewing figures, transform a lot of disparate people into immobile coach potatoes and wreak havoc on our perceptions of society. The blur between reality and fiction is sometimes an all too confusing juxtaposition for certain innocents in our society. These are the people that spit and shout abuse at actors playing particular villains when they go about the everyday, the people that fail to realize that it’s all just an act.

Eastenders; set in the (obvious) East End of London along with Coronation Street (Manchester) and Emmerdale (Yorkshire) command the weekly prime time slots (between 7-9pm). Then there are those shows heavily indebted to the student armies; Hollyoaks (Cheshire) and Neighbours (Melbourne!). Neighbours aside, what these shows all give us is a particular sense of ‘Englishness’ wrapped up into thirty minute decompressions.  Coronation Street takes us on a swooping tour of suburban Manchester life, full of industrialized factories, cobbled streets, terraced houses and the occasional scene of domestic violence or two. Eastenders being its racier counterpart shows all the grime of inner city life in our nation’s capital in a rather bleak or nihilistic way. Nothing good or any prolonged period of happiness really seems to befall the characters in this show, the seeming continual onslaught of calamities and life crisis seem enough to drive even the most hardened individual to the pits of utter despair.

Then there is Emmerdale which for some strange reason has a massive Finnish following. Obviously rural small village life has seeming familiarity with the Scandinavian audience, but are they well prepared enough for some of the more crazy storylines this show has had to endure in the past: plane crashes, fires, suprising demolitions?  Studying the English soap opera is a fascinating way of analyzing the ways we choose to portray these parts of England; unfortunately for us reality falls away in the need to attract large viewing figures.