On being mistaken for an Englishman
I don’t like the English. One at a time, I don’t mind them. I’ve loved some of them. It’s their collective persona I can’t warm to: the lumpen and louty, coarse, unsubtle, beady-eyed, beefy-bummed herd of England.
The truth is—and perhaps this is a little unworthy, a bit shameful—I find England and the English embarrassing. Fundamentally toe-curlingly embarrassing. And even though I look like one, sound like one, can imitate the social/mating behaviour of one, I’m not one.
A. A. (Adrian Anthony) Gill
The Angry Island (2005)
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Here, here! Slowly but surely England is heading for the fluff laced social etiquette plug hole. One binge drink and Ryanair flight at a time…