In my latest video monologue, I speculate on the recent trend of quintessentially British spaces being overwhelmed by people of immigrant stock during the summer months. The pockets of ‘real’ or ‘true’ Britain that we regarded as ‘ours’ are perhaps reflective of a lingering mythology, or spiritual connection that the spread of managerialism and multiculturalism simply doesn’t recognise, or does, and seeks to strip from these places, intentionally leaving as reptiles slithering a de-territorialised wasteland open to all.
This, in my view, touches the heart of the crisis beyond economic or mere demographic raw data, namely, can we lay claim to anything as ‘ours?’
Somehow deeply consoling to hear your voice saying the simple things that are forbidden, and yet which mean so much to us as a people, Morgoth. Even your simple restatement of the truth is somehow a minor victory that raises the spirit cast down by this tragedy…
Went to Durdle Door, Dorset, a year back. Like being in Lahore. Deeply depressing.