Wednesday, 23 April 2014


A typical scene this afternoon as England rejoices in its patron Saint!  The crowds flock together, gathering happily in throngs dressed in the red and white flag, wearing similar hats, hired outfits, and England football shirts. Well I saw four of them dawdling along, and a maiden (Ha!) underneath a large flag followed by her minder also intent on cheerfully commemorating her saint.    
In short they were going for a piss up!
I strongly suspect their knowledge of George from Lydda is faint.  His Christian stance that led to torture and decapitation is probably not the motivation for their gathering, and as for their flag originating with Ambrose, one time Archbishop of Milan, well that will be something beyond their ken. The real motivation is 'white van man' racism!  This lot indeed come from the lower sections of society, not all do of course, but movements are felt deeper amongst those losing the most.  A desperate longing to have a nation to which they can belong is something the Englishman suffers daily.  The Scots, Welsh and Irish have no problem being happy with being themselves, the English have no understanding or idea of what 'being English' is all about.  Poor souls, jealous of the Celts rejoicing they have in recent years become quite vindictive and bile filled regarding other nations.  The inbuilt superiority that dwells within their soul is well at odds with the reality around them.  The Englishman sees himself as the dominating member, reality is hard to accept.
A reality made worse by the nation being overrun by foreign folks, many of whom are black!  This fact alone has made many an Englishman feel very threatened.  Whole towns are now a variety of colours and any who indicate unhappiness are referred to as 'racist!'  In fact I very much disagree here. The place in which you are reared does mean something to an individual, if this overnight almost becomes like a foreign country where people with different cultures fill the locality it can indeed, and rightly, be difficult to accept.  That is not racist, it is a normal human reaction, colour being a secondary problem. That certainly happened in Scotland many years ago when cheaper Polish labour put Scotsmen out of work, not racist, just human response arose.  For today's Englishman, especially those at the lower end finding Poles, Bulgarians and other East European types taking their jobs a natural resentment can arise. Genuine fear over immigration, unbalanced maybe but genuine, stirred by politicians and papers on the make does not help.  Scotland rightly demanding independence upsets many English as they continue to believe we are all one happy family, in spite of the reality.  Only yesterday several highly intelligent women I met failed to comprehend how Scots feel about the issue, it is something that has not crossed their minds, after all Scotland is so far away, but useful for holidays!  'White van man' reads his 'Daily Mail,' if he is pretending to be 'middle class,' or the 'Sun,' if he is being honest, and finds Scots draining money from his pocket and being ungrateful!  That lie shows how little he understands, yet how much the media misuse him for their own ends! 
This resentment, and it is strong in some areas, had led to a revival in 'Englishness.'  In 1996 they found their own flag instead of using the Union flag as theirs, now it appears at all times, while Ambrose ought to get a percentage I say, and is flown by some at every opportunity to pretend they have a nation.  
Have they?
England is more divided than the mere border that separates England from Scotland.  The northern culture is not similar to the south's, and the north is ignored by the rich south east corner.  Birmingham, the second largest city, is never mentioned on TV or in the media unless it really has to be mentioned. Yet this from one of the richest parts of the nation! The richest, Norfolk and Surrey pay their own way, all the rest needing grants from the centre, yet these two counties resent their cash going to where it is required, does that make for a nation?  The folks in the countryside vote Tory, the towns and cities vote Labour neither caring what the other wants, who knows what the next election will bring after the shambles of the last.  Thousands use 'food banks' while others live off benefits needlessly, millionaires fill the cabinet while over two million are desperate for a proper job, London dominates at all times, the rest are an afterthought.  This 'England' is not one nation in any respect.  

The Scots, Welsh and Irish have their own history, they are well read in this, English history is seen by many as one dynamic victory after another, they are always the 'top dog, and yet the deeper truths of what life really was like for the average Englishman is not what comes to the average Englishman's mind when waving a flag.  Scots know all their bad bits, only too well, does the Englishman drinking his European Lager, eating his Curry, and wearing his Bangladeshi made clothes know his nations bad bits? Does it matter?  As long as he has a nation to belong to he has a place in the world, a family, even if a stand offish one.  
The return to a Saints Day, by a nation keen to be atheistic we are told, is all about being a nation again.  But to be a nation you must know what the nation actually is.  Those gathered raucously in the pub will struggle to sing English songs, 'Greensleeves' will not suit that establishment I fear, indeed few songs regarding their nation will come to mind.  George, lying somewhere underground in Lydda today, will wonder at his name being used in a nation at the ends of the earth.  He would wonder a lot more at the confused people wearing his flag, not that he knew it was his flag, and feel a great deal of sympathy for their lost souls.   




Lee said...

Well said, Adullamite. And I tend to agree with your sentiments.

the fly in the web said...

Oh dear, now you have conjured up for me a pub at 'happy hour' resounding to Greensleeves and the rhythmic thud of fist on foreigner...

Adullamite said...

Lee, A woman of high intellect I say.

Fly, Funnily enough.....

soubriquet said...

As you knew I would have to, I'm responding.
I'm an Englishman, And Saint George is my Patron Saint. My mother was Welsh, so I include St David, Patron Saint of Wales. Should I ever need to don my rusty armour and ride into battle against the Saracens, I'll raise my sword high and cry "For George, and England!".

Now I have Scots forbears too, a bit further back. Probably cattle thieves, I do like a nice steak...
But I won't be calling upon Saint Andrew, because, quite frankly, I'm a bit suspicious of his uppity ways. You see, Scotland, for reasons which escape me, chose Andrew as their Patron Saint, probably because he allegedly appeared to their leader before a battle. Well, it's the oldest trick in the book, morning of a battle, all those brave clansmen with shaky hands, wobbly knees and loose bowels, fearing the reaper, and a crossing pattern of fluffy white appears in the sky.....
King Angus, ever a fast thinker, sees that those very early con-trails, in white against the blue sky resemble the cross of St Andrew...
So he addresses his band of woad-smeared ruffians, "Scots! St Andrew appeared to me in a dream last night, and, despite him being a fisherman and apostle who never held a sword in his life, he assured me that we're in great shape for the battle, and that, really, we can't lose!"

And they, being impressed, and trusting their king, even though he's an under-king of only medium status, but hey, he can remember stuff that people who can read told him, so he must be right...
"Och, his Kingness says it's an Omen, laddies, whatever one of them is, St Andrew will watch over us and guide our strategy, which consists of running toward the enemy while shouting, and bashing them with table legs and sharp things!"
And they won, and Scotland ever after revered the sight of a diagonal white cross on a blue background.
I prefer the support, in a tricky situation, of a bloke who knew which end of a sword not to hold, and expert in sticking spears in recalcitrant dragons.

Furthermore, the whole diagonal cross bit sounds distinctly dodgy. I mean, every crucifiction wooodshop would have the agreed item, big piece, pointed at the bottom, check, shorter crossbar, check...
"hey boss!, we've got a bloke here who refuses to be crucified on a standard model, says he wants a bespoke special, made to order, extra rough timber!"
"And has it been okayed by the presiding judges?" "No"... "And has he got any money to buy a special?"
"No, Boss"

"Is he Scottish?"
"No Boss, he's one of them middle-eastern types, retired fisherman turned Jehova-ite"

"Okay then. Does he want fancy nails too?"

Adullamite said...

Is that all you have to say?
Very short for my favourite Yorkshire man.

Oh an the 'X' type cross was used apparently!