There is no such thing as a free lunch. And there is no such thing as a free Empire.
Somebody had to pay: the little boys pushed up Victorian chimneys; cotton mill workers minus the odd arm, lost in unguarded machinery; miners with ruined lungs and crooked backs; and the ‘navigators’ buried under mud slides as they dug the canals and railway cuttings.
The British Empire was built in grimy, shabby towns in the Midlands and the North. Far away from Westminster and the politicians, the whole process fuelled by coal from Welsh pit villages with unpronounceable names, and upwards through Lancashire, Yorkshire and into Scotland.
But what has all this got to do with me? Apart from my having been brought up in one of these mining villages, as I documented earlier in my dissertation? After all it is 2006 not 1906. And have we not ‘built Jerusalem/In England’s green and pleasant land’?
Haven’t we?
Oh – here comes Carole, back from the lavatory. I hope she’s washed her hands.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
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1 comment:
Now see here, George! First of all, Podgy Stone was a BOY in Lower Four B with me when you were in the third grade - which makes you only ONE year younger than me.....and secondly, denial is not good for the soul. You ate both my toasted scones, whether you admit it or not....
Now, for God's sake stop prevaricating and tell us why Carole has replaced Anastasia?
Did you know Carole went out with Podgy Stone for a while, years ago - and he said she never washed her hands, ever. That's one reason he packed her in. Always a bit finnicky about cleanliness, was Podgy!
(Incidentally, your blogger word verification letters this time are 'ijvfart'. If one was German they might stand for: "I jolly vell fart!")
Just a thought, old boy.
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