As both of my readers know, I really have nothing to say. I only blog to get it off my chest and in the hope that I will elicit a response if I'm reading over 360 on the moral compass.
I do this because I sometimes think that I'm the only sane one in this zoo.
Sadly, neither of my readers has pulled me up even though I have made a point of being politically incorrect. So I thought I should try harder.
I don't like it. It doesn't work. I can't remember when it started being introduced. And I'm entitled to my right not to embloodybrace it, whatever Trevor Macdonald says.
I know, because I can read, that many, many years ago there was slavery. It was started off most recently by some pretty savage white people, mainly Americans, who discovered places where there were not-white people, and because these Americans (who obviously had just been invented and ousted half a dozen redskins) were pretty much self-delusional Godbotherers then obviously the black people were inferior and it followed that they could be made into slaves without upsetting the Divine Plan. It's actually happened since B.C.
More recently, Britain, because we were God's chosen people, had an empire and basically took over anywhere we wanted, such as half of the West Indies, India and most of the rest of the slightly-less-civilised world than Britain itself.
In more recent history, which is the bit when I started remembering rather than reading, we had an influx of non-slaves from these places. India, the Windies. They were referred to by indigenous Britons as "bus drivers".
I don't fully understand the reason why they came. Well, I understand why they wanted to come - because of the "better life (TM)". But I don't fully understand the reason why we (we being the indigenous Brits) wanted them to come. I suspect it was because the indigenous Brits had enough work to go round and we didn't want to do some of the jobs. In fact, I'm 99% certain of this.
There were quite a lot of indigenous Brits at the time who still had the attitude that they were not the same colour as us, or that they had bigger noses, or bigger other things (apparently). So we found words for them such as nigger and coon. These words were, and are, quite offensive to the non-indigenous colourful new Brits, and I don't think it's a bad thing at all that they've gone out of everyday conversational use.
Of course, Britain is a free country and, because they could, the new breed of non-indigenous naturalised Brits bred. Breeding is fun. And so a new generation of indigenous, colourful Brit was born. Now, anyone who has a problem with that is a racist. I don't like racism. I sort of understand it, as I sort of understand most things in my own small way, but I don't subscribe to it.
We have an act - a law, called the Race Relations Act. It was enacted in 1976 and states that it is against the law to discriminate against people on the grounds of race, colour, nationality or ethnic and national origin. It is a Good Law, I think, and stops the driver refusing to let people on the bus because they came from somewhere other than Britain, or because they are brown, yellow, black or green. Or white, for that matter. We shouldn't need a law like that, but we do, because some of us are Bad People.
Since then there have been amendments to it, notably the one in 2000 which says that public bodies must also obey that law. We really didn't need that one, because all laws should apply equally to the person or the public body, and that's half the reason why we're in the state we're in. However, it doesn't matter.
Still later, in 2006, we made another law which is called the Racial and Religious Hatred Act, which states that it is against the law to incite hatred against someone because of their religion, or lack of religion. That went without saying anyway, but NuLab like making laws, being run by lawyers as they are, so we got another law.
Britain has a culture. Even bits of Britain, such as England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have their own cultures, or sub-cultures. And even further still, bit of England have their own cultures, places such as Norfolk, Cornwall, Northumbria - all slightly different in customs and accents, local foods and so on.
I like to visit other places in Britain to sample their cultures, which are often endearing and quaint. Sadly, because of the need to have everything on tap today, Ginster's lorries are tramping up and down the motorways delivering pasties and, for God's sake, ready-made sandwiches; Rodda's clotted cream is available from Waitrose; haggis can be bought all the year round (and don't try to tell me that McSween didn't change their recipe this year), and my local pub sells real ales from breweries from as far afield as St Austell, Southwold, Edinburgh and all points in between, so I don't have to travel anywhere any more to get the taste of Britain.
I also like to visit other countries, such as France and Spain, and they have their own cultures, quite different from ours in that they even speak a completely different language (even though French was the main language in England for nearly 400 years). But now I can buy membrillo from Waitrose, along with a selection of continental cheese including some obscure ones from El Pais Vasco, so really if I just signed up to a French or Spanish class once a week I wouldn't have to go abroad at all.
I haven't been to India. Someone I know went there and said that you had to ignore the poverty and begging and suchlike, and I don't think I could, so won't bother going. And I don't want to to go to a tourist resort such as Goa, because I want to see culture. And I can get a pretty damned good curry from a couple of places within a couple of miles of me. And I don't much like full-on sun, it burns.
Now, I'm happy that places around this small planet have developed in different ways and have naturally developed different cultures. It is charming, and it is natural, and it is to be encouraged.
I could go to Spain, and speak Spanish, and see bullfighting (in the very few places it still exists). And I do. I can go to France, and speak French, and eat ridiculously and cruelly fattened goose livers made into a pate, and steak from a horse, fresh from the Chevalier. And I do. I can go to a lot of other places and do things which I am not allowed to do here, such as smoke in a pub. And I'm going to do that next week, in Belgium, and I'm going to fail miserably to speak Flemish, because I can't, but I'm going to get the best chips ever. And later, I'm going to do the same in Germany, and fail to speak German, but I'm going to drink steins of their beer and eat proper pretzels.
And then I'm going to come back. Back to good old Blighty which, despite the best efforts of the present administration, is still the country in which I was born, and always will be. And I love her dearly.
And anyone who has come here to live, or to visit is most welcome. All I ask is that you embrace her culture. Her culture encompasses speaking English, as that is the language spoken here. If you can't speak our lanuage, and there's a pretty good chance I can't speak yours, then we'll try to understand you. But don't expect it as a right. Her culture encompasses free speech, eating meat if one wants to, making ones own decision if they don't hurt anyone else, and a penchant (good Lord, is that a French word?) for real ale, pork scratchings and custard or gravy on everything.
So, dear visitor, embrace that.
Or fuck off.
I mean that most sincerely.
Now, moral compass watchers (both of you), am I right or wrong?