Quote Of The Day

From Teddy Dalrymple:

“With luck, the mass impoverishment that is quite likely to strike Great Britain in the near future will prevent the British from going abroad in any numbers, thus slightly raising the cultural level of the rest of the world.”

When I emigrated , the following was written on the Bon Voyage  card presented to me by my former colleagues:

“Kim is leaving South Africa for the United States, thus raising the average IQ of both countries.”

Who said statisticians have no sense of humor?

3 Inexplicable Things About Brexit

The latest in this series:

  • Why it’s taken so long for the Brits to tell Germans, Frogs and other assorted Dago countries just to fuck off.
  • Why, after Brexit, the Brits will continue to use the European-spawned metric system instead of the fine Imperial one they themselves created.
  • Why there’s such a to-do about fishing territories.  Considering that the entire EU has a navy of a size comparable to Rhode Island’s, and even though the Royal Navy certainly isn’t what it used to be, I would have thought that the British negotiating position re: fishing would be:  “If you chaps fish where we don’t want you to fish, we’ll blow your ships out of the water.”

Feel free to express your own areas of puzzlement about Brexit in Comments.

Divided By A Common Language

That’s because the average town in Britishland has clearly-defined boundaries, where Town Planning forbids any kind of development outside those limits.

Here in the Land Of Da Free, our towns sprawl all over the fucking place, and (e.g. in Plano) you can drive around all day, not see a business of any kind, and still technically be “in town”.

The Germans, of course, have it down pat.  If you take the Ausfahrt  off the Autobahn  to, say, Stuttgart, you just follow the signs which say Zentrum  and you’ll end up in the main business center of town.

Which, by the way, the Brits with their love of inscrutable acronyms refer to as the “CBD” (central business district), only they don’t always use street signs to direct you there.  You get downtown by guesswork and luck.  Don’t ever stop and ask for directions, because the local yokels think it’s great fun to send you into a series of one-way streets and cul-de-sacs  (which is what signs do say, and not “dead ends”) until you wish Hitler had got the job done and flattened the place, back during the Slight Disturbances Of The Early Forties.

Not that I’m bitter about it, or anything.  When you finally get there, it’s all worth it.

…right up until you try to find parking.

Dream Garden

According to Some Survey Or Other (Science!!!), this is what most Brits dream of when thinking about their ideal garden:

Okay, some of them are just daffy — a maze? — and good luck getting the go-kart track past the neighbors (unless you’re going to be racing electric go-karts).

I am as given to dreaming and wishful thinking as any, and probably more than most;  but I can’t help thinking that having so many outdoor activity features (yoga areas, outdoor gym etc.) are not going to be used that often given a climate in which Britain’s principal export is rain.

Also, excepting bloated plutocrats such as Mr. Free Market (whose estate holdings make Prince Charles look like a slum dweller) and Top Gear’s Richard Hammond (who has a castle), most Brit houses have an average outdoor area which can be measured just as well in square inches as feet — and not the 88-foot “desirable” backyard they dream of.

In Kim Terms, 88 feet couldn’t even accommodate a 25-yard indoor pistol range, which leads me to my next point.

Notably absent from all the Brit dream gardens is anything devoted to shooting.  I know that the BritGov (a pox be upon it) seems to frown on the shooting sports, but nowhere on the above do I see listed even something as innocuous as an archery range.  (I have a well-founded suspicion that a similar list taken from a poll of my Readers would have a 100-yard rifle range near the top, followed closely by a 1,000-yard playground where one could happily play with Barrett rifles etc.)

So, on to just such a poll.  In Comments, please list — in order — the top 10 most desirable features you’d like to see in your “back yard” (define it however you wish:  “back forty” is also acceptable).   Don’t bother with explanations or exposition;  the inclusions should be pretty much self-explanatory, e.g. “four-bay 25-yard air-conditioned indoor pistol range” (which would be in my own top 3, incidentally).

No mazes.  Also exclude strange exotica such as “hippie burial ground” and the like.  This is a serious poll. [eyecross]

Have fun with it, and limit ten, please.

Quote Of The Day

From the always-readable James Delingpole comes this outstanding zinger:

“Just when did Britain become so incredibly, embarrassingly shit?”

His take on the British people is curt and cutting (“an embarrassing mess: a nation of snitches and cry-bullies, tinpot fascists and mask-compliant bedwetters”), but that’s not his only target.

While Delingpole also hauls off at Boris Johnson (“a priapic lard-butted lightweight chancer who should never have been given the keys to Number 10”), he saves most of his ire for the Oily Little Shit Tony Blair (“closet Trotskyite”) and the mainstream media / government bureaucracy (“over-influential demagogues like the revolting Piers Morgan, not to mention the whole of the BBC, Channel 4, Sky News, and virtually every newspaper, the civil service, everyone in the judiciary…”).

It’s not often I read a rant which I wish I’d written;  but this is one for the ages.  Read it all, and chuckle.  (Or weep, if you’re British.)

And by the way:  if you see a large number of parallels to the United States… well, that was the whole point of this post.