Check out Auntie Joanna if you would like to visit a typical British town on a Saturday night…
… arrived in Manchester late on Saturday night, and the city centre was lively with shrieking, shouting young people, many drunk, a few vomiting or slumped in pub doorways. With intermittent blasts of driving rain, it was a vivid but depressing scene. Several thumped on the doors of my taxi as it took me to what was once the Free Trade Hall, the facade now fronting a vast modern and very comfortable hotel all thick glass doors and shiny steel and gleaming dark wood. The taxi-driver said the crowds were celebrating St Patrick’s Day, but that most Saturdays were a bit like this. I stepped over a fat drunken girl in the doorway as her friends mumbled awkwardly and a couple of lads started to argue with my taxi-driver.
The disgusting public behavior of British young people is a disgrace to a once great and noble country. What Auntie Joanna witnessed is typical not only of the large urban areas, but the beautiful old cathedral towns. When we lived there a friend told us how, during a visit to the historic and beautiful city of Bath, he tried to get into a toilet in McDonalds because his three year old needed to go. When they finally got in they were confronted with three drug addicts shooting up who told them go f*** off.
Other tales of horror abound. One of the Saturday night hobbies after they get reeling drunk is to go ‘dogging’. This consists of meeting total strangers in the park, in city doorways, in parking lots, and copulating with them in public then moving on. British young people go on holiday to the Spanish and Greek resorts and scandalize the natives with behavior that would make Caligula blush. Open drunkeness, brawling, nudity, open public sexual activity, drugs…you name it.
Some time ago a British newspaper asked an American journalist based in London to write a letter home to his countrymen about modern Britain. He wrote words to this effect: “You think of England as winding country lanes, mellow village churches, thatched cottages, tweed jacketed gents smoking a pipe, Miss Marple, Winnie the Pooh, cricket on the green and ‘is there honey still for tea?’ You think of riding to hounds, the sweet sounding choirs of cathedrals and college chapels, the golden stone of Oxford and Cambridge and the noble streets of old London town. Think again. Modern Britain is a country of despair. The young vomit in the streets and pee in doorways. The cities are blighted with traffic congestion, bleak modern architecture and immigrants from all over the world. England needs them because her birth rate is dropping and they can’t keep the economy going without them. Modern Britain has all the worst things about modern America without any of the best things. The streets are crowded with crass commercial chain stores and fast food restaurants. What is still old and venerable has been bought up by nouveau riche parvenues and turned all tacky and cheap.
Do you want ‘merry ole England?’ Stay home and watch a BBC drama.