As an expat, I now get to view the UK through the same reality show lens I once watched the US through. Only someone hasn’t wiped the dirt from the lens, it’s chipped and I’m fairly certain I need a new prescription, because everything seems to be going to hell over there.
It’s no day at the beach over here, but as I’m living in it, and seeing the effects of a reality-show presidency, it’s hard to joke about it as much. I can look across the ocean and crack wise at my homeland, knowing full well it may not all be as humerous as it seems.
So I need an anecdotal catch-up, particularly in response to the following questions. Sure, the BBC, The Guardian and a few other reliable sources can keep me factually abreast, but what’s it really like over there right now?
1. What’s the deal with all of the good weather?
I was supposed to leave and enjoy 30-some degree, five-month summers, while you all stayed and had that one weekend at the start of May that was a bit hot but not really — and then that week in July where you leave the country to go on your own summer holiday, only to return to friends saying, “Well you wouldn’t believe how hot it was this past week!” That’s what was supposed to happen.
I’ve held up my end of the bargain, by taking summer walks late into the evening and getting more Vitamin D than I’ve had in my entire life, but what’re you guys playing at? Can Britain truly be Britain anymore if the weather is great? That’s kind of its whole brand, and any teenager with an Instagram account will tell you how much of a crisis going off-brand can be.
Sort your weather out Britain, get those overcast skies back. Lots of grey clouds, that’s your speciality.
2. Why is your cabinet leaking?
David Davis and Boris Johnson within twenty-four hours? I mean, they’re both either utter simpletons, or evil geniuses who’ve perfected the art of hyper-normalisation — so good riddance to them. But it looks as though this could lead to Boris challenging for leadership? Or even a premature snap-election?
Come on UK, we can’t have Trump and Johnson as the head of the “special relationship”. That’d be like putting together a school play, but instead of casting any of the children, you give half of the roles to the bumbling, overbearing father of the richest kid in school, and the rest to the local pedophile.
It appears as though this has all happened because half of the Tory party want a democratic discussion about Brexit — and the other half want to pull out of Europe as sloppily and carelessly as possible, the same way Jacob Rees-Mogg has dreamt about pulling out of Dutch prostitutes. Rees-Mogg looks like the kind of guy who has the most demented and twisted fetishes, but too many centuries of repression to ever let them out. He looks like the design for whatever the direct opposite of a sex-robot is.
So yeah, sort your government out. I don’t want to hear about anything else until Corbin gets a fair crack at representing the 99%.
3. You can play football now?
Sorry Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland — but England, when did this become a thing? I spent twenty-four years watching the national team either fail, or be miserable when they succeed, and now everyone’s happy with English football?
What’s all this about a likeable manager? My friends back home have started unironically calling him Sir Gareth Southgate, and I think they might be right to do so. The squad is made-up of second generation immigrants and people with much smaller egos than we’ve seen in the last thirty years of professional football. A lovable team that represents the best of Britain? That’s not the football I know.
The worst part is that I’m alone out here, I’m sure I could find a pub in the city to watch the semi-final at, and pal around with a couple of expats, but kickoff is at midday in MT. I don’t have fellow England fans to celebrate with, you were supposed to do badly and not make me feel homesick. If they win the whole thing, then football might not be the only thing that’s coming home.
So is Danny Dyer your leading Brexpert now, or what?
I know the recent cabinet exits and shuffles have all revolved around Brexit negotiation struggles, but from what I can tell, this has only confused the country further.
It appears that not everyone who voted to leave feels the same way, now that they can see what it’s really all about. They now realise it’s not as simple as leaving a house party you didn’t really feel like being at anyway, with an extra three-hundred and fifty million quid in your pocket. I mean, who wouldn’t vote for that?
Most people, other than those who fellate Farage frequently on Facebook, realise that the whole thing is a lot more complex than a simple Yes/No answer. I understand wanting to respect the democratic process of the original vote, but with only 43% of the UK believing that Brexit should continue in the exact same way, that number has certainly dropped below the “HISTORIC LANDSLIDE” of 52%.
The clock is ticking Britain, and Danny Dyer is now the voice of the people.
It’s not all bad though, you managed to get Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon behind bars. I’m not calling him by the kayfabe name he gave himself to sound more English. No true Englishman has an ‘x’ in his name, apparently.
The football is also a good thing, I’m just bitter that I can’t be back in England for it. At least with British politics going down the hole, I don’t feel as bad about my decision to move to America, where we’ve gone so far down the hole, it can now only be described as a gaping chasm of hatred.
Just — please, get the horrible weather back. What’s Britain without s*** barbecues?Where you have to finish all the meat in the oven, because it’s started to piss preverbal cats and dogs.
Today is Wednesday, July 11th and that new Gorillaz album is pretty alright.