The World According to Nigel Farage

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The World According to Nigel Farage Page 13

by Mark Leigh


  ‘But I can’t wait that long,’ Snow White said, with a tremor in her voice. ‘The Wicked Queen will be looking for me and I have nowhere to go.’

  ‘Well that’s not our problem,’ shrugged Dispassion.

  With that, the seven EU dwarfs manhandled Snow White out of their cottage and sent her on her way. She ran weeping into the dark interior of the forest.

  A short while later there was another knock on the door. This time it was a huntsman holding a shiny new axe.

  He bellowed in a deep voice: ‘I’m looking for someone called Snow White. I’ve heard she has been in this area.’

  The dwarfs looked at each other.

  Then the huntsman handed them a piece of paper. ‘I’ve got form 275/44/228/b, a Permission to Kill permit.’

  Dispassion studied it for a moment.

  ‘She went that way,’ he indicated.

  The End.

  Spoken Like a True Patriot

  Even though he was born in Hungary (a country best known for inventing the ballpoint pen, the Rubik’s Cube, and red wine with the taste and consistency of cough medicine), author George Mikes (1912–87) had the good sense to settle in London and eventually become a British citizen. In 1946 he wrote:

  ‘The world still consists of two clearly divided groups; the English and the foreigners. One group consists of less than 50 million people; the other consists of 3,950 million people. The latter group does not really count.’

  Although Mikes wrote this nearly 70 years ago and the figures are way out of date, the sentiment still remains to this day – in fact, never has it been more relevant. But he wasn’t alone in his thinking…

  Always remember that you are an Englishman and therefore have drawn first prize in the lottery of life.

  Cecil Rhodes

  Only two ways of doing things – the English and the other. We’ll not want the other here.

  William Donaldson

  The English have an extraordinary ability for flying into a great calm.

  Alexander Woolcroft

  Other nations use ‘force’; we Britons use ‘might’.

  Evelyn Waugh*

  Not to be English was for my family so terrible a handicap as almost to place the sufferer in the permanent invalid class.

  Osbert Lancaster

  If the French were really intelligent, they’d speak English.

  Wilfred Sheed

  So little, England. Little music. Little art. Timid. Tasteful. Nice.

  Alan Bennett

  The British are special. The world knows it. In our innermost thoughts we know it. This is the greatest nation on earth.

  Tony Blair**

  Because Great Britain has self-confidence, it doesn’t need a monumental Olympics.

  Ai Weiwei

  Though the island of Great Britain exhibits but a small spot upon the map of the globe, it makes a splendid appearance in the history of mankind, and for a long space has been signally under the protection of God and a seat of peace, liberty and truth.

  John Newton

  Here’s to Great Britain, the sun that gives light to all nations of the world.

  Anonymous

  *A brilliant author and journalist, even though he had a girl’s name.

  **A useless lying prime minister, but a good quote.

  My Views On… The British Empire

  Atlases today have lost their way. Now they’re full of maps showing human migration, urbanisation and even ice shelves. It was much simpler when I was at school. There was one map and half of it was covered in red. That was all you needed to see and it looked so much more attractive.

  Losing the British Empire was tragic not just for the manufacturers of red printing ink but for everyone involved. Our great nation lost out on a ready supply of cheap labour and a ready supply of soldiers prepared to die for a motherland that they never knew nor cared about – but most of all, it lost out on the ability to exploit a wealth of natural resources.

  This view however is not shared by those suffering from colonial guilt (which, for the record, like ME, ADHD or gluten intolerance, is just a made-up trendy condition). These whingers still resent our occupation. Talk about ungrateful! Those under British rule never had it so good. Sure, we exploited their mineral wealth and crops but look what we gave them in return; cricket, red tape, polo, picnics and jobs as servants. Not only that, but Empire building was an ancient custom practised by the Romans, the Greeks and the Macedonians. Convention and heritage should be valued and preserved wherever possible and all Britain was doing was maintaining this proud tradition – and for that we should be thanked.

  Anyway, at the end of the day those in India, Australia, Africa, and even Aden and British Guiana should be thankful that they ended up as part of our Empire and not anyone else’s. French imperialists would have introduced them to boules, quiche and adultery, while the Germans… well the Germans would have just killed them.

  And of course, without our Empire we’d never have been inspired to produce such critically-acclaimed films like Gandhi, Zulu, Lawrence of Arabia or Carry On Up the Khyber.

  Wind Farms: Don’t Believe the Spin

  As one of the last bastions of old-fashioned Englishness, we need to preserve the customs and traditions of the countryside. And by that, I mean a countryside that’s exactly like the one portrayed in that other bastion of old-fashioned Englishness, Midsomer Murders (well, apart from the murders part).

  There’s something very comforting about living in such a middle-class, intolerant community, but nowadays there’s a real threat to this rural idyll: one that’s ruining the unspoilt countryside – and I don’t mean travellers.

  I’m talking about wind farms: less of a renewable green energy source and more of a way for the EU and our government to offer landowners massive subsidies to provide one of the most inefficient ways of generating electricity.

  I’m so incensed by the sight of these monstrous turbines obliterating the horizon that I was inspired to put pen to paper…

  Windmills

  (Inspired by that great British poet William Wordsworth)

  I wandered lonely as a cloud

  That floats on high o’er dales and hills

  There before me, was not a crowd

  Of bright and golden daffodils

  Instead across the whole wide vale

  A host, of spinning silver sails

  Hundreds I saw there, at first glance

  Reaching up into the sky

  Whirling and twirling in sprightly dance

  Symbols of a great Green lie

  An energy source so inefficient

  Providing power that’s intermittent

  We were duped; we were tricked and deceived

  By this blight affecting England’s fields

  Many are the reasons to be aggrieved

  High subsidies; low power yields

  That Climate Change Act; such a farce

  Like a bunch of daffs; stick it up your arse.

  5 Things That Really Wind Me Up About Italy

  Michelangelo, Gucci, spaghetti carbonara, the Cosa Nostra…there are few places where art, fashion, carbohydrates and organized crime intermingle so effortlessly as in Italy. The Italians have a phrase, ‘la dolce vita,’ which means ‘the sweet life’: a life of pleasures and indulgences. Sure, on the face of it, Italy does seem to have everything; a benign climate, a host of cultural treasures, well-dressed criminals, an edible national cuisine plus a reputation as a country that’s stylish, elegant and chic.

  However, strip off Italy’s stylish clothes and you’ll see a country with a €2.1 trillion government debt that’s slipping into economic turmoil quicker than a Naples pickpocket removing your wallet.

  1. Everyone judges you

  Walk down any street (or strada as they call them) in an Italian city and all eyes will be on you. All the locals will be checking you out, not because they think they recognize you or because you look cool or sexy. They’re looking at what you’r
e wearing. Brought up in a culture where’s there’s only two seasons (Spring/Summer and Autumn/Winter) and where a baby’s first words include doppio ventilato (double vented), everyone is ultra-conscious about appearances. They call themselves fashionistas. You’ll call them shallow twots.

  2. Italians actually believe they can multi-task

  Italians are proud of the achievements of their ancient Empire, the desirability of their sports cars and their ability to multi-task. Two of these aspects of Italian life are justified. Unfortunately, if you’re a pedestrian there, multi-tasking is an unwelcome practice; nearly all Italian motorists think nothing of driving while reading a map, reading the paper, shaving, applying make-up, lighting a cigarette, drinking coffee, turning to speak to the passengers in the back and cursing the mothers or sisters of fellow motorists – and they carry out many of these acts simultaneously.

  3. Italians are such hypocrites

  I wish my PR machine was as good as the Italians. Mention Italy and most people think of these glamorous associations: Ferrari, Maserati, Gucci, Prada, Bulgari, Armani… the list of exclusive brands is endless (well, until you get down to Zanussi and Nutella). Scratch the surface though, and you’ll find a country that’s as superficial as its lucrative fashion industry; one with perpetual political instability (more than 25 governments since 1980) and a reputation for lumbering bureaucracy and low productivity.

  The persona Italy still keeps promoting to the world is Rudolph Valentino. The reality is that it’s Joey Tribbiani from Friends.

  4. It’s like you’re in a mime show

  Whether it’s a waiter, a policeman or your hotel receptionist, try and engage an Italian in conversation and you’ll be at best puzzled, and at worst completely and utterly confused. They can have an entire conversation without actually speaking, relying instead entirely on eye movements, facial expressions and violent hand gestures. On some occasions it looks like they’re conducting the Rome Philharmonic.

  5. Tuscany: the Italian Islington

  Tuscany is a region in central Italy, which is best known for its rustic landscapes, olive groves and vineyards. Its capital is Florence. Visit Tuscany in the summer and you’ll hear high-pitched whining and feel irritable. This will not be due to mosquitoes, though, but an infestation of really annoying British middle-class families who look and sound exactly like David and Samantha Cameron.

  3 Useful Phrases to Use in Italy

  So that’s the legendary Shroud of Turin. It looks like Billy Connolly to me.

  Ecco, questo è il leggendario Sindone di Torino. Sembra che Billy Connolly a me.

  You have a work ethic that makes the Spanish look like models of efficiency.

  Si dispone di un etica del lavoro che rende l’aspetto spagnola come i modelli di efficienza.

  I am very sorry. I didn’t realise that the swarthy man I’ve just been talking to was actually your elderly mother.

  Mi dispiace molto. Non mi rendevo conto che l’uomo dalla carnagione scura che ho appena parlato con era in realtà sua madre anziana.

  Great Britons No. 5 Phil Collins

  Not only a great bloke but an inspiration as well, I can really identify with Phil Collins.

  Not because he’s a short, bald, multi-millionaire, tax exile drummer. Like me, he’s been constantly and usually unfairly vilified in the press, but has managed to rise above this. Phil and I have both had more than our fair share of criticism; it comes with the territory, whether you’re a top musician or a top politician. The press regularly accuses me of being a closet racist or a Stalinist bully boy – and accuses Phil for being smug, boring and bland; an appraisal of his music in The Guardian once described Collins as ‘un-stomachable’ and his music as ‘perfectly vacuous’. Sure those criticisms can hurt but Phil’s professionalism and fortitude has meant he’s maintained his dignity at all times – even after his track was used in that Cadbury’s commercial, and he was described as a ‘fat, bald, chocolate-eating bastard’, or when Noel Gallagher said, ‘Just because you sell lots of records, it doesn’t mean to say you’re any good. Look at Phil Collins’.

  The fact that Phil has remained so stoic in the face of unprecedented vicious personal attacks like these has been a great influence on me. He took them on the chin and said to himself, ‘I don’t care what you say. I’m still going to make superficial songs for undiscriminating people.’ Inspired by his resilience I follow his example, although obviously, in my case, I substitute the word ‘policies’ for ‘songs’.

  But it’s not just Phil’s tenacity and perseverance that’s inspired me; some of his albums and singles have struck a real chord too. Take Hello, I Must Be Going!… if that’s not a clarion call to leave the EU then I don’t know what is. ‘Another Day in Paradise’ describes what I feel when I arrive back in England from dreary Brussels. ‘Against All Odds’ is about me trying to make a difference for this great country and, of course, ‘In the Air Tonight’ invokes the sense that victory will be ours come the election.

  So, if you’re reading this book, Phil, I’d just like to say once again that you’re a top bloke whose attitude and actions have motivated and encouraged me in my own career. The only thing I find odd is that you’ve chosen to live in Switzerland.

  Well, we can’t all be perfect.

  The Pub Quiz

  Why It’s More Fun Questioning the Answers Than Answering the Questions

  Described* as a modern version of the Gladiatorial games, the Pub Quiz has become just as thrilling and awe-inspiring!

  The amphitheatre has become the Red Lion, spears and tridents have been replaced by pens and answer sheets… but in every other respect, pub quizzes are just as big a spectacle as anything seen in the Colosseum.

  Okay, we might not have combatants like Spartacus, Triumphus or Celadus the Thracian but their equivalents today are participants who are just as brave. I’m talking about teams like Smarty Pints, The Magnificent Bar Stewards and Les Quizarables.

  And just like the Roman Games, a Pub Quiz is also a fight to the death (albeit a proverbial one). To the victor, the spoils (usually a £30 Pizza Express gift card)!

  However if, like me, you question everything we hold as truth – or presented as truth by the very masters of deceit, the EU – then the best thing about entering a pub quiz isn’t actually the prize. It’s the chance to be a real pedant when it comes to querying the official answers. Here are some popular pub quiz questions where you can catch the question master off guard and emphatically prove your superiority:

  What colour is the eagle in the Albanian flag?

  Most people say ‘black’… but you can take pleasure in pointing out that black isn’t a colour… it actually represents the absence of a colour.

  What is the most northerly point of mainland Britain?

  Contrary to popular belief it’s not John O’Groats. It’s Dunnet Head.

  What is the name of the statue with a bow in London’s Piccadilly Circus?

  Anyone that says Eros is an idiot! It’s actually Anteros, the younger brother of Eros.

  How many wives did Henry VIII have?

  Just two I’m afraid… His marriages to Anne of Cleves, Anne Boleyn, Catherine of Aragon and Catherine Howard were annulled, which legally means they never took place.

  How tall was Napoleon Bonaparte?

  If you answer ‘between 5’6” and 5’7”’, you’re correct! Most people will say 5’2” but this was his height in French feet, which were smaller than the standard (and far superior in all cases) English feet and inches.

  Where do Newcastle United play?

  The correct answer is ‘St James’ Park’. If anyone writes the answer ‘St James Park’ without the apostrophe, they need to be stripped of the point and publicly humiliated since this is the name of Exeter City’s ground.

  What is the Earth’s tallest mountain?

  No. It’s not Everest. That’s the world’s highest mountain since height is measured from sea level to summit. The tallest mountain
is Mauna Kea in Hawaii as measured from its base, which is on the floor of the Pacific, to its summit.

  What was the middle name of the composer Mozart?

  It’s Wolfgang, idiot (or Wolfgangus, if you like). He was baptised as Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart.

  *By me

  My Views On… The Homeless

  When you come to think about it, the homeless are actually much better off than you or me. For a start they can sleep soundly at night, not having to think about negative equity, the shortfall of their endowment mortgage, a change in interest rates or repossession. Then there’s the money they save and not just the mortgage. There’s buildings and contents insurance that can cost a packet – and don’t forget the council tax; they’re exempt! How bloody lucky is that, saving a couple of grand a year? I wouldn’t say no!

 

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