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Being English, is feeling the gravity of this nation's history on one's shoulders. The bad moments sucker-punching your gut with sadness. The great moments firing up your spirit like a November bonfire.

The curse of only being invaded once, 1000 years ago. If only we had a carte blanche of invasions to cry over like the French.

I cannot put into words, the vibe shift on the other side of the Atlantic, since Trump's victory in America. The beacon has been lit.

A carving of St George in Royston Cave, Hertfordshire.

Isn't it interesting that Birmingham is full of rubbish and their MP's use all their bandwidth to talk about Gaza and airports in Pakistan?

France is full of their own equivalent of Yookay Slop, but they don't want you to know that.

Imagine living in Birmingham and writing letters to your MP about the rubbish situation. You tune into PMQ time, to have your voice heard. Then this is what happens:

Repeal every law from 1066 onwards.

When I think of pre-Blair British race relations, and how they were better then, than today: Paul Ince epitomises it for me.

Liberal psy-op. Fly that flag proud 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

True.

Millenials:

Not necessarily.

That region of Pakistan is right next to the Chinese border. Interesting geopolitical stakes at play here now.