Stop apologising for being English
It makes you look pathetic
FREDERICK EDWARD
“Stay off that bike or you’ll get pulled off,” barked the officer. “By you?” I asked, which he confirmed. I was attempting to cycle home a few days ago but the roads around Trafalgar Square had been closed off for the VE Day celebrations, necessitating everyone to use the pavement. It didn’t matter that it was 1am and that the roads were empty: rules are rules.
Except, they aren’t always. As a member of Britain’s law-abiding class, the rules are rigidly enforced. Fall out of line and some angrily worded reminder or fine will land through your letterbox, or, in my instance, some copper will threaten you with the physical imposition of the law. We, dear reader, are the low-hanging fruit for officialdom’s monopoly of power.
As the state’s ability and desire to control minorities wanes – the essence of our two-tier system – its demand that the withering native majority abide by its diktat grows. It is a system which sees police negotiating with Muslims to ‘put their weapons back in the mosque’ amid civil disorder, while simultaneously throwing white Britons in prison for offensive posts on X. The various friends of Palestine, George Floyd fanatics and various other ethnic-grievance groups – remain untouchable.
The quid pro quo of being a law-abiding citizen was that everyone else would do it too. We’d all benefit from society’s high-trust bounty. Much of that has been shat away, of course, by importing people and cultures whose intellectual basis is rooted in survival amid poverty. The unspoken socio-cultural norms that defined the English and which were transmitted by family and society have been so heavily diluted that they can no longer presume pre-eminence in our own lands.
Queuing politely, belief in due process and contract law, quiet acts of civil engagement: these incomers must think us bizarre automata.
Driving on the North Circular last week, a gang of ten-or-so motorcyclists were doing wheelies, revving their engines loudly and swarming around other vehicles. None had licence plates. Off they went on the merry way, passing all the frightened sheep who, like me, diligently pay their road tax, insurance and keep their cars MOT’d.
Elsewhere, on the Underground, men – almost all black – push through the turnstile and nobody says a word. For me – the white, middle class sucker that I am – an annual travel card is £1,800. It’s quite the expense, together with my rent, which I’m clearly a fool for paying unlike the 55% of the social housing in my borough which is occupied by foreigners; not to mention the private sector accommodation paid for illegal immigrants paid for by you and me.
Around five percent of my annual income goes towards ‘repaying’ my student debt. Except that it is not being paid down due to the interest charged: it is, until it is written off, another tax I will incur, amid all the others. After all, someone needs to fund the public sector, keep Syrians in hotels and ensure a steady supply of materiel to Ukraine to be blown to smithereens for the next one hundred years.
Is there some hope on the horizon with Reform’s recent triumphs? Perhaps. It is definitely good to see the idiots of the Westminster blob get a bloodied nose: the kind of people who think the mass raping of white British girls is merely a ‘dog whistle’. If justice existed, such cretins would be put in stocks and pelted with stinking fruit and rotten vegetables, only after being booted out of office and having their pensions removed.
Yet, I personally do not think Farage radical enough to meet the moment. His policy positions were perhaps adequate for the challenges of twenty years ago, but we are now in different waters altogether.
The problem with Farage et al is that they are Thatcherites and not much more. Socio-cultural leftists but who like the free market, or who view the issue of mass immigration as merely being one dragging down our GDP per capita or being a burden on infrastructure. While such views are true, they do not diagnose the whole.
If the UK in future is merely to be a country which maximises its economic performance and quality of governance but nothing else, it cannot expect loyal citizens but only mercenaries. No doubt it would be a better place to live in than the Britain current envisioned by our political class, but it would be little more than a Dubai with a temperate maritime climate. It would be a Britain in which state power could only accumulate amid the ongoing fracturing of its social and demographic make-up. The roads would be less potholed but the roots of multiculturalism would extend inexorably deeper.
Maybe this is not a bad thing. There are certainly worse outcomes. Better to live in multicultural-but-authoritarian Singapore than a multicultural-but-shithole Brazil.
My torture, however, comes from being an Englishman. I do not wish to live in a wildly heterogeneous culture, I wish to live in my culture, the one that even in my childhood in the 1990s stood relatively unchallenged. This is my homeland and my ancestors’ homeland. This is not exclusionary, but it is assertive. I do not wish to live in Sodom and Gomorrah, but in England. Everyone else who comes here can like it or lump it. They have another land to call home.
Yet I do not see anyone saying this explicitly. Perhaps that wish is too much. The Overton window has only moved to the presupposition that not all cultures are equal; stating that ours must be dominant in our own land lies some years ahead. At present, St George’s Day cannot be mentioned without obligatory mention of the ‘wonder and diversity’ of England.
Whether there will be enough Englishmen left to see through this demand should discourse ever move that far away from progressive shibboleths is itself not guaranteed. That would be just another victory of GlomoHomo as it dismantles European and settler nations one-by-one.
In the meantime, we can all enact our quiet acts of rebellion. Go to church, don’t passively allow others to mock your culture. The next time someone insults English food tell them to get stuffed. If they think our weather bad, suggest relocating to a sunnier clime. Just remind them that we invented modernity and that they’re very welcome to share in its bounty. A bit of assertiveness will get you a long way.
Stop apologising for who you are, it makes you look pathetic.
It might require a turn away from the Hollywood Englishness that people have come to associate with our nation. The kind of piss-pants Hugh Grant oh I’m terribly awfully sorry routine just won’t cut it any more.
It’s not as if we don’t have the history and accomplishments to steel us in this determination: from the housecarls of King Alfred to the men who painted the world imperial pink, history has never shown us to be a meek and cowardly bunch yet.
This article (Stop apologising for being English) was created and published by A Last Bastion Of Sanity and is republished here under “Fair Use”
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