Give me back my country! What? What’s that? You thought it was your country? Or ours, even?
More fool you. Is mine, all mine. Stop touching my stuff!
Now Mark Reckless is going to give it back to me.
He promised. That’s what him and Doug and Nigel and all them other rich white middle-aged UKIP guys are out to do, apparently.
Never much felt I had a country in the first place. From where this wage slave sits the place has always belonged to somebody else.
Who? Same bunch of thieves and blackguards as ever it seems, aristocrats and the landed gentry.
Somewhere around 0.5 per cent of the population owns something like two-thirds of the land on which we live, mostly the same families who owned it in the 19th century.
Thieving robber barons, lording it over inherited booty, soaking tens of millions in subsidies, some direct from our pockets, some via an EU Common Agricultural Policy their lackeys in Westminster fight tooth and nail to retain in a form which works solely – so far as the UK is concerned – to their benefit.
Scroungers par excellence.
The balance? Mob of corporate graspers, organised religions and sundry beneficiaries of Enclosure, all suckling at the same public teat.
There’s my imagined country, of course. Reckless and his cohorts can give me that if they like.
Somehow, though, I doubt this privately-educated, millionaire, former management consultant has the slightest interest in giving me a country much like that.
Pitched somewhere between an Ealing film and the Britain Atlee’s government aimed for, it’s a nation of the sort Reckless and his ilk have worked to prevent coming into existence their whole political lives.
It’s a Republic, obviously, me not being medieval, and a place where the main object of government is to seek fairness and accord among the populace rather than focusing on new and interesting ways of setting one group against another.
It’s a country where the old and ill (without the resources to buy safety) do not die of neglect in hospital or care home as a result of endless, mindless cost-cutting and privatisation of services which are the responsibility of all.
A country where wealthy men who strive to divert attention from genuine villainy by pointing at him or her or you and saying it’s THEIR fault get said finger broken on sight.