by Iain Aitch
JUMBLE SALES
If you like fighting old ladies for urine-stained support hose then the jumble sale is the place for you. An institution of church halls and Saturday mornings, the jumble is an archetypally British affair wherein church volunteers will collect all the old clothes and toys that no one can be bothered to eBay and then put them in big piles to be sold off for pennies. Jumble sales attract mainly the elderly, though fashion students and antique collectors do attend on the off-chance of finding a Vivienne Westwood original or the odd Ming vase. Fleas, lice and moths are other favoured items that visitors take home with them.
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KAGOULS
These waterproof coats are an essential for anyone planning a day out in Britain. Whether you own a £200 designer version or one that folds up into itself and comes from the Pound Shop, you should carry your kagoul with you on any walk or visit to a theme park or beach. Married couples in Britain are required by law to wear matching kagouls and these should be worn with matching jumpers if at all possible. Bridal kagouls are available for summer weddings and two-person models are available for the dogging community (see dogging).
KING HENRY V
Welsh-born Henry V was the most famously combative of monarchs and his portrayal in the Shakespeare play that bears his name has made this legend grow with time. It is his victory at Agincourt in 1415, which is portrayed in Shakespeare’s play, that he is most celebrated for. It lead to his having control of France as well as England. He married Catherine of Valois in order to establish a lasting peace between the two nations, but that didn’t really work, did it? Still, he did come back with some decent duty free and some nice cheese. Henry V’s rousing pre-battle speech from Shakespeare’s play is often used to stir up patriotic pride or to inspire modern troops before battle.
KING HENRY VIII
As everyone who has ever studied British history knows, the sequence of the fate of Henry VIII’s wives goes thus: divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. Not really a track record that would make him worth a punt if you saw his profile on an internet dating website, but a memorable record of adultery, killing and tragedy, even for a royal. Henry VIII, who is almost always pictured as a man of immense girth, was a dedicated sportsman in his youth, though he let himself go a bit when he got married, as many British men do. His waist was said to measure more than 50 inches when he died. The giant king was also responsible for the somewhat shady start of the Church of England, which was founded as a response to the Pope not allowing him to dissolve his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, who had failed to provide the king with a male heir. The King changed Britain to a Protestant nation and split with Rome, leading to the dissolution of the monasteries. The newly formed Church of England granted Henry VIII his divorce, kick-starting a record as the church that will agree to most things just so long as you turn up once every couple of years and help raise funds if someone nicks the lead off the roof.
KISSING
Continental visitors may be surprised to find that there are strict limits upon the number of kisses a Briton is entitled to dole out in one year. Because of these arcane restrictions we limit kissing on the lips to our partners and generally keep kissing on the cheek for grandmothers only. Those in the more artistic professions sometimes flaunt these restrictions by greeting all and sundry with a kiss on the cheek, but this is against the spirit of the law and also counter to the British way of life. It is sometimes acceptable for men to kiss women on the cheek, though only really when they fancy them and maybe try to slip mouthwards a little. It is also acceptable to kiss a friend’s fiancé just to check that she doesn’t have stubble and to get a close-in look at that suspicious Adam’s apple. Hugging should be restricted to the sports field and only otherwise used in public when a friend has lost a loved one or their mobile phone.
KNOTTED HANDKERCHIEFS
Like the red squirrel, use of the knotted handkerchief as headgear has been all but killed off by an insidious American invader. In this instance I talk, of course, of that vile intruder the baseball cap, a sporting accoutrement for a sport we neither play nor understand in Britain. There was a time when no beach would be complete without rows of men protecting their balding pates by the swift application of a white handkerchief with a knot tied in each corner. This ad hoc millinery was a great example of British ingenuity, and the traditional craft skill was passed down from father to son. It was imminently portable, good value and protected against both burning and skin cancer. Proud British men should start to reclaim this item of their headgear heritage. After all, if it was good enough for Monty Python and Alf Garnett then it is good enough for you.
KRAY TWINS
Had they been born in London’s now-hip Hoxton just 50 years later than they were, the notorious gangster twins would probably have grown up to be web designers. But the Hoxton of 1933 was not the kind of place that men with fin haircuts, effete scarves, laptop bags and designer spectacles wandered about after dark. So the twins went on to run the criminal underworld of east London, committing murders along the way and collecting a surprising number of celebrity friends. Perhaps the oddest of these associates was bland TV newsreader, How panel member and game show host Fred Dineage, who became the pair’s official biographer, ghost writing their memoirs. These memoirs gave rise to the ‘geezer lit’ genre, whereby anyone who had done much more than have a fight in the playground at school got to tell all about their toughness, crimes and loving their mum.
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LANGUAGES
It is often said that but for the bravery of our forces in World War II we would all be speaking German by now. This is simply rubbish, because we are so poor at learning languages. We probably would have been able to ask for a beer by now, as well as chips (see chips with), but there is no way we would be using ridiculously lengthy compound words or doing much more than just using English really loudly and slowly, as well as pointing at stuff and saying ‘one…of…those’. Languages are taught in schools from an early age, but as we have a pathological hatred of most of the people whose languages we are learning we never seem to get that far. Most of us manage to take in that most French people are likely to be called either Jean-Paul or Claudette, but that is about the extent of our interest.
LAWNS
It is an unspoken rule in suburbia that your front lawn should be sufficiently well kept to host a game of test cricket (see cricket) should the need suddenly arise. Those who stray from mowing their lawns each Sunday – employing heavy rollers, nail scissors and a small team of local Scouts to finish the job – are seen as social deviants and are unlikely be invited to the kind of event where everyone throws their car keys into a bowl at the end of an evening. The lawn should never be used for entertaining, sitting on or playing football on. It is there for bragging rights and social acceptance only and should not be seen as a leisure facility.
LEAVING THE COUNTRY
There is a long tradition of celebrity whingers claiming that they will leave Britain if X or Y were to happen. Traditionally these fits of attention-seeking pique are related to the potential election of a political party that has high taxation for moody celebrity whingers in its manifesto. The most famous recent example of this was when comedian Jim Davidson was one of many who said he would leave the UK if the Labour Party were elected to govern in 1997. It is thought that Davidson's promise directly influenced the landslide Labour victory, with turnout as high as 110 per cent in some areas of the country. Sadly Davidson didn't flee the country as soon as the results came in; instead he stayed behind to amuse the nation by becoming bankrupt. His failure to leave immediately has lead for calls for a declaration of 'I am off if…' to be legally binding. Tubular Bells composer Mike Oldfield threw a hissy fit of his own in 2007, in which he claimed his leaving was due to the imposition of the ban on smoking in public places, though it was later revealed his exit was actually down to his being a twat.
LIMOUSINES
In many countries the stretch limousin
e is the vehicle of choice for heads of state or movie stars, but in the UK we have democratised this form of transport to the extent that it is now the taxi of choice for binge drinkers. The length of a limousine is always inversely proportional to the IQs of those travelling within it. For those who travel in limousines I should explain that this means the longer and more ridiculous the car, the more idiotic the pond life within it is likely to be. The Humvee limo was introduced for those who thought the traditional stretch limo was not quite macho enough, which is ironic as ‘Humvee limo’ translates as ‘man with no penis’ in several languages, including English.
LOCAL
Having a pub that you call your ‘local’ is still an important part of British life. The bar in question will be within a short walk or a brief drunken drive (going the back way and driving really slowly) of your home and should offer a refuge in times of marital disharmony, such as when your partner wants to watch Desperate Housewives and you want to watch the match. There should be the odd friendly face in there, even if it is only someone to nod at as you walk in the door. After all, this is not Cheers; everybody knowing your name would just be intensely annoying. No one factor makes a good local, but the possibility of a lock-in (see lock-in) should always be high on your list of priorities when assessing a new local if moving into a new neighbourhood. Recent immigrants can ask to be allocated a local at reception centres or via the Home Office.
LOCH NESS MONSTER
Scotland is home to one of the big three of possibly mythical super-monsters, with Nessie being right up there with Big Foot and the Abominable Snowman (or Yeti, as his PR team have re-branded him of late. Market research found ‘Abominable’ just a little too negative). Thought to be over 40 feet in length, the Loch Ness Monster has been part of British legend since at least the sixth century though with the development of photographic and moving film technology the sightings were given more credence in the early twentieth century. Many of the main sightings have been proven to be hoaxes, but huge interest and research is still invested in the existence of the aquatic monster. It certainly brings in the tourists, with most gift shops in Scotland offering a range of Nessie tea towels, mugs and chocolates.
LOCK-IN
A long upheld riposte to Britain’s (especially England and Wales’) antiquated licensing laws, the lock-in is part ritual, part rebellion and part something to regret the next day. The lock-in is the illegal extension of pub opening hours, which is signalled by the landlord rushing around closing heavy blackout curtains at around 11 pm. If you witness this it is your job to stay put and wait for any strangers to leave, whereupon the drinking will continue into the night. Some say the recent relaxation of licensing laws has spoiled the illicit thrill to be had from the lock-in or from visiting an illegal after-hours bar, so some landlords pretend to be serving you unlawfully even though they have applied for a late license. Landlords holding illegal lock-ins are always at risk from a visit from the police, but those least at risk are those who run pubs near police stations, providing late drinks to the local constabulary on a nod and a wink. If you are looking for an after-hours drink in a strange town simply head for the bar nearest the police station, knock thrice and use the well- established code words, ‘’ello,’ ello, ’ello’ in order to gain entry.
LURGY
This frighteningly contagious disease is the kind of thing that spreads through British offices at an alarming rate, usually in the autumn or winter. Slightly worse than a cold, yet not quite as bad as influenza, symptoms of lurgy can include anything from a snotty nose and sore throat to an upset stomach or lethargy. The best treatment for lurgy is bed rest, which should be taken after phoning in sick and making sure you sound at your very worst. Lurgy is usually spread by sneezing or by that stinky woman from finance drinking out of your mug, though it can be passed from child to child by one touching the other and simply saying ‘lurgy’.
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MAGNA CARTA
This document from 1215 is perhaps given more importance than is relevant in modern times, as it was more a list of restrictions upon the power of the monarch than anything approaching a formal constitution (see constitution). It certainly shaped the law and power within Britain, though, but not before King John, who was monarch at the time, renounced it and sparked off a civil war before the ink was even dry. Once this was resolved it was the perceived power of Magna Carta that helped to develop common law and the shape of legislation throughout England and then all of Britain. The right of Habeas Corpus is one piece of law that can be traced right back to Magna Carta and this is the understanding that no citizen can be held without trial or unlawfully imprisoned unless they look a bit Middle Eastern and the Americans say it is okay.
MARKS AND SPENCER
Not to be confused with Communist Manifesto writers Marx and Engels, this supermarket-cum-department store is where Britain goes to buy its underwear. In fact, so widespread is this practice that HM Customs officials toyed with the idea of doing away with the checking of passports, simply checking the tag in the back of people’s underpants instead. Those bearing some kind of M&S branding would be allowed in, while those wearing something more foreign or more racy would be denied entry. This would have had the dual effect of lowering immigration levels and maintaining the Right Kind of People in the UK, but the plans were shelved when it was revealed that the Queen has recently taken to shopping only at Primark and that the Prime Minister prefers to go commando.
MARMALADE
Our love of this citrus preserve is something of an anomaly in a country where it is not warm enough to grow citrus fruit, yet no traditional breakfast table would be complete without marmalade. We mostly favour marmalade made from Seville oranges, which has a slightly burnt and bitter taste, though lemon and lime marmalades are also acceptable, if you are a weirdo or an elderly lady. For connoisseurs, marmalade is all about the cut, which is a term for how chunky the preserve is and how much peel is included rather than how much glucose or scouring powder has been used to adulterate it. In this respect marmalade is quite different from Class A drugs, but its addictive and restorative qualities are similar. Note how Peruvian immigrant bear Paddington was always trying to get his hands on more marmalade sandwiches and how much less maudlin he seemed to become once he got some. Most of his life was dedicated to getting his fix, though even he drew the line at those pathetic miniature plastic tubs you are given when you stay in chain hotels or rubbish B&Bs (see bed and breakfast).
MARMITE
Legendary for dividing opinion, so much so that its name can now be used to describe other things that polarise taste, this tarry-looking, brewing industry by-product is very much a savoury delight that you either love or hate. Made from the yeast that is used to turn sugar to alcohol in beer, Marmite is concentrated and has spices added before hitting the shelves. The wholly vegetarian (yet oddly meaty-tasting) spread can be smeared on toast, used in cooking or to make a nutritious hot drink. It should not, however, be used in the bedroom to spice up your love life. Marmite is also used as a key ingredient in one of the nation’s best-loved snacks, Twiglets. These crunchy snacks are a favourite of curvy domestic goddess Nigella Lawson, who has been known to simply dip a catwalk model’s arm in a jar of Marmite if she cannot find a packet of Twiglets when a craving arises. In 2006 Marmite introduced a squeezy plastic bottle, which was rumoured to be replacing the traditional glass jar that the brand is known for. The rumour proved to be fallacious, though this was not revealed before adults old enough to know better started bleating and blubbing about it on their blogs, like it was worse than 9/11 or having to meet Mick Hucknall.
MATHEMATICAL POSSIBILITY
This uniquely British aphorism neatly sums up the special kind of pessimistic optimism that surrounds potential success in sport, especially in football. Whether applied to domestic or international competition, the phrase is trotted out at that moment when nearly all is lost, yet some cruel possibility of success survives (see unswerving optimism). There
is a glimmer of hope that your team/country may win the league/qualify for a tournament, yet that glimmer depends on you winning your final game 12-0 and the worst team in the league beating the best, away from home and doing so by six goals or more. There could also be another side factor, such as another two teams drawing, your opponent being thrown out of the competition for use of nanotechnology or the discovery of time travel. Anything that could happen can be relied upon as a crutch in those hard, frustrating times. When it comes to even worse failure, there is the sister term ‘mathematically safe’, which describes the point in the football season when there is no longer a mathematical possibility that your team can be relegated from its league.
