Why the UK is Obsessed with Immigration

By Sir Anthony Henry Bull – Professor of History at Bridgeford University

When one gazes upon the polite, white faces of those cliffs that greet one as they ferry over from the fetid continent back to the sacred, green and pleasant lands of the United Kingdom one is reminded of why these shores are so special and, thus, must be protected.

We are a small island nation, at one time vulnerable and cast adrift from the warm embrace of the bosom of the continent. In this environment we became the duality. We are civilised warriors who grew up in freezing winds, driving rains and also beaming sunshine and verdant fields. We are friendly, but not too friendly and right now the EU is trying to make us do karaoke when we just came to the party for a snifter and a chat about the economy.

People accuse us of being ‘narrow-minded’ but I am not narrow-minded at all. I am a history professor. I learn about, understand and respect all cultures. I just do not want them invading this unique human habitat and infesting it with the disease of multiculturalism and tolerance. There are grants and budgets to protect and promote minority cultures and yet the Great British Monarchic Street Party is left to fund and fend for itself. How are we supposed to grow and thrive in such an environment as this?

I repeat – we are a small island nation. Too small for this many people, that is for sure. Over 330,000 net migration at last count. That is, 330,000 more people were admitted to the country than had left it. This is madness. What are we to do with all of these people? We cannot give them jobs, a bunch of foreign bankers crashed the economy and British industry is dying because of competition from foreign markets. We do not have room for all these people coming over here investing in our local areas. We cannot keep admitting begging family after begging family just because they claim if they go back to Choppyhandistan or some East African Warlord’s Dungeon they will be persecuted. Where is the evidence that anyone ever had a bad time in Syria? I went to Syria twelve years ago and it was a lovely, civilised place. I had tea there, it was not quite right but it was at least a substance vaguely resembling tea. It is fine, they do not need to be here.

What of their cultures and religions? Have we ensured they are compatible with ours? As far as I was aware the Great British legal system was working perfectly fine and it does not need Islam to straighten it out. We have a perfectly reasonable means to ensure Britain’s women are kept in line and they are called Britain’s men. We do not need to stone them or chop their hands off or beat them with a cane like Pop used to do to Mama in the old days that caused me so much trauma.They inherently know their place.

And I do not know about you, but I am sick and tired of not being able to walk down a street, buy a newspaper or pop into Zizzi for a quick lunch without hearing some oily-skinned oik spouting gibberish. This is England, do please speak English. It is not like you make the effort to learn our language for when we visit your shores, we are the ones expected to do the work then. Many times now I have begged for service in an Italian restaurant only to be handed a bag of fish remains with no explanation from the waiter who would not know an English verb from a Gaelic pronoun.

I say it is about time we leave this farce. I do not want some Polish agricultural worker plonking himself on the EU council and making decisions about how powerful my toaster should or should not be. I want proper, respectable, British democratic institutions like the House of Commons, the House of Lords and the Monarchy of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Although, while we are at it, can we ditch Northern Ireland too, they are a bit of a troublemaker, are they not?

I am done with it. I want my coffee and croissants replaced with tea and sausages, I want my Polish shops replaced with Chintz china outlets and old fashioned confectioners, I want my bananas bendy, I want my Wimbledon, my fish and chips and my disappointing trip to a decaying British seaside town. Where is that Dunkirk spirit? Britain showed then what a retreat from the continent looked like. World War Two, that was truly our finest hour and now we have a chance to relive that spirit yet again. All those marvellous chipper boys flying their Hurricanes and Spitfires for Blighty, with a toodle-pip and a tally-ho and a “Back in time for supper.”

Without the EU, the UK will be placed solely in the hands of this marvellous Conservative government, free to cut the hand outs to the needy and encourage Great British industries like banking and the property market. Those two things are as strong as British Steel, another ever-present, untroubled Great British institution.Our economy could once again be placed in the hands of those with an inherent capacity to understand money matters, like George Osborne. Decisions about our future could be made by intelligent, respectable persons like Boris Johnson.

I want my Britain British. I do not want it continentalised. Plus I am a little concerned that that brown man who has just moved in down the road may wish to rape my cat. I will have to keep an eye on him through the curtains. If Britain left the EU he would not be here. The sod, he threw some litter in my bin the other day, I shall report that to the council. Vote leave, etc.

Terminal Context would like to apologise for this article. It was intended to be an academic and balanced look at the historical context in which the EU referendum is to be placed, but did just turn into a bigoted old curtain twitcher casting racist aspersions. We would like to remind readers, however, that this is still an intellectual level above all other discussion on this matter on the internet.


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