Britons and Americans, squabbling cousins for generations gone and to come; learning and stealing from each other, leaning and depending on each other. The record of time will show that as nations we’ve loved and hated with equal fervour and fanfare but like true family we know and accept that our destinies cannot be separated by choice. Reluctantly, inadvisably, even illegally our governments have (eventually) stood by each other and it would seemingly take a truly cataclysmic event to batter the bond beyond malleable repair.
And so as our leaders have shaken hands under flags and fireworks, through Washington sun and London rain, us citizens have gripped and peered over the fence, watching what life is like on the other side, wondering how they preen their roses over there and discipline their children. On occasion we’ve even (when we’ve not thought they’ve been looking) hopped the fence to reclaim that errant football and feel what their green, green grass is like under our naughty toes, slinking back to the comfort of our side once the thrill has been tasted.
As empires go, ours have both been equally ubiquitous, both prevalent and surreptitious, fingering each corner of the global pie with the combined might of military might and cultural corruption. What is interesting is how we now, as the deposed emperors sitting back in our tattered Redcoats, take to the pervasive nature of their cultural conquest, played to a tune of shiny starred quavers on a stave of red and white ribbons.
...
No comments:
Post a Comment