Chin up, old boy – Cotterill's Manifesto for Britain
In Britain, things have not being going wonderfully, of late. Not only has the economy realised, after thirty years of bravely keeping its eyes shut and praying, that it was standing on its own shoulders (try it, seriously), but all these unpleasant social problems that we've carelessly left brewing have come to the fore. Unemployment, uncaring, uncouth, unmotivated. An unattractive selection of malaises currently afflict us. Our country has been systematically abused by a succession of partners; global capitalism, America, politicians – they've all come in late one night, reeking of beer and piss, to take a swing at poor old Britain.
No longer.
There are themes that unite Britons. Fair play, justice, respect for democracy. A knowledge that no matter where you start, you should damn well have the same chance at life as anyone else. The last three decades have seen a string of gits steering us away from these values.
“Sink or swim” - or, alternatively, kick a man when he's down. Twice. Really, is that a value you want to see nurtured in society? I damn well don't. I want to see a society where a hand up, not a look away is the norm. No one gets anywhere without other people helping them. So let's have a government that encourages co-operation, rather than jumping up and down on some poor sod's face.
“There's no such thing as society” - well then, who are those people in the pub, enjoying a refreshing pint and a laugh together? Who are those ladies selling cake in the village hall? Who are those two million men, women and children who marched against an unjust war? I tell you, they are our society. This is our society – the people you see every day, who probably annoy you every other day, but who you know will be around for support when you need it most, and share the same values and basic beliefs that give us the foundation for everything we know and love.
So, Britons, it's time. Time to take the final gallant swig of tea (or other preferred beverage), rediscover that stiff upper lip, make a few self depreciating remarks, then pace purposefully out of the door, to face our brave new world.
Fred Cotterill
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