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Why?
Because tea. Because full English breakfast. Because of decency and orderly queuing. Because of a searing sense of guilt over the evils of our empire and the human suffering our ancestors caused, because of the British Expeditionary force, Agincourt, Dunkirk, the battle of Britain, two fingers stuck up to Hitler, because of sarcasm, self deprecation and Watney’s Red Barrel and the empire that never sets on the sun, because of Boudicca and black pudding and single malt whisky and most of us being able to say ‘bottle’ rather than our American chums who say ‘boddle’, because of Shakespeare, Christie, Wodehouse, (but fuck Rowling), because of Douglas Adams and Michael Moorcock, Tolkien, Carroll, Defoe, the Brontes and all that lot, wandering lonely ,etc., etc., Byron, Shelley, Frankenstein, Dracula, Sherlock Holmes and Dr Who, Carry On films, Ealing Comedies, Hammer horror, the Cornetto trilogy, because of the Beatles and the Stones, Pink Floyd, and Alabama 3, and heavy metal, and punk, and goth (“Hey now, hey now now!”), the Magna Carta, Taskmaster and Python, the Goodies, Eric Morecambe, Ronnie Barker, Porridge, Fools, Horses, Red Dwarf, HIGNFY, Sapphire and Steel, modern surveying and mapping techniques, that Darwin chap, gravity, Nigella Lawson, the business suit (sorry anout that), fish and chips, chip butties, (Yorkshire) fishcake butties, the sandwich, country houses, the ha-ha, afternoon tea, fights over whether it’s scone or scone, whether the cream goes on first or the jam, the industrial revolution, trains, David Attenborough and James Bond, the BBC, the BLT, the NHS, the RAF, HP sauce, knowing how to say ‘Worcestershire’ and 'Edinburgh', Hendo’s Relish, gin and tonic, English mustard, salt and vinegar everything, ploughman’s lunch, because of Mark and Lard, because of prawn jalfrezi, half rice, half chips, and a pint of mild, because of best bitter, marmalade, cider, Wimbledon, the snooker at the Crucible, Formula 1, because of a deep-seated shame at Brexit and the rise of a cunt like Farage, because of calling people gormless cunts or fucking wombles or tosspots or feckless wankers or bellends or just twatty McBallbag, because of Bletchley Park, Tower Bridge and Stone ‘enge, because of football, rugby, cricket, and golf, because of Top Gear and the Great British Bake-Off and TV shows which are cool but sometimes problematic, because of generally trying to do the right thing but all too often being too little, too late, because of nil points at the Eurovision Song Contest, because of endless optimism every time there’s a World Cup and spaffing that hope up the wall…
Because I care enough to have written all of this.