London is no longer a British city, says John Cleese. It’s odd how you can keep up with exactly how British somewhere is while living overseas.
What he means of course, is that London contains too many foreign people. And it’s changed since the last time he was familiar with it. You can imagine him ordering somebody to paint “Romanes eunt domum” everywhere.
The London of Cleese’s memory is bereft of life. It is an ex-city, it has ceased to be.
It’s different. It has moved on. Dear London, I fart in your general direction.
However, London is still very much London. It is, and always has been, much more cultural melting pot than Lancashire hotpot.
People from all over the world, from the Roman Londinium to the present day, have come to London to invade, trade, work, marry. And still they come, attracted by the streets paved in gold, and the chance to see the Queen popping to the corner shop for twenty Bensons.
London is a focal point in the world. It therefore also attracts enemies. For example, it was the focus of German bombing in 1940. This led to people coming together with a common cause. The Blitz spirit, the Dunkirk spirit, and black market potato spirit are conflated in some nostalgic feeling of heroism.
Don’t mention the war. I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it.
Cleese may not have joined the choir eternal, but he most certainly has joined the Ministry of Silly Tweets.
Cleese is a hero to many British people. Unfortunately, he’s not the Messiah, he’s a very naughty boy.
People of London – and elsewhere – even though the country is being crucified because of a dreadful administrative error, don’t grumble, give a whistle. And this’ll help things turn out for the best… And… Always look on the bright side of life.
And now for something completely different.