Conversation piece
From Mrs 0. Matthews Sir: The future which is shaping up promises to be more Carrollian than Orwellian. A shade of hyperbole could result in the following conversation. Foreigner: "It is not as agreeable in your country as formerly. However, taking it into consideration that it is the sixth month of the general strike, it is not too disagreeable here. Tell me, what do your strikers do for food when they have no wages?" Britisher: "The supplementary benefits paid out by the Government are quite adequate. Foreigner: 'Then the Government pays then to strike?" Britisher: "Of course. Tolerance is the very foundation of the British way of life.'
Foreigner: "Oh! But your services,
your utilities, they are visibly functioning: if not well, then adequately.
. Britisher: "Of course, of course! The voluntary forces of Rippon and Generals Stirling and Walker are proving invaluable. Damn clever chaps the British. No: job too difficult for them, you know." Foreigner: "But — the strike could continue indefinitely with the voluntary forces doing all the work and the Government paying the strikes?"
Britisher: Why not? This is the British Way of Life, you know, and we don't care for foreigners knocking it. I say, old chap, I'm frightfully thirsty. Would you be so kind as to finish your tea and to pass me your dirty cup. No sense in causing unnecessary work these days, you know. And I'd rather you didn't stare like that at the dormouse. He's not one of your edible varieties, but you do make him nervous."
Foreigner: "But you are crazy! There are foreign debts and exports to consider. Britain is not an island."
Britisher: "It is you know. Shakespeare said so. 'A world by itself; and we will nothing pay for wearing our own noses'."
Foreigner: "But —" Britisher: "Ah yes! One has to be practical. The National Debt, The Balance of Payments, Trade Deficits and all that rot. Such difficulties are easily resolved We shall sell our land and interests to gullible foreigners, mainly the Arabs,"
Foreigner: "Gott in Himmel! That the proud British should sink so low as to make dusky foreigners their masters."
Britisher: "You're catching on old chap, fast. Almost a Shakespearian ring there. However, do not mistake me, we would not be so daft as to sell them a majority interest, a controlling interest in any company, And what is a nation but an assemblage of companies? They would contribute much money but they would not be our maters.'
Foreigner: "But eventually —" Britisher: 'Tony Benn will nationalise everything and we shall gain all." Foreigner: "But after that?"
Britisher: "Damn it all man! 'Ask me no more; the moon may draw the sea.' That's Tennyson." Foreigner: "Gott in Himmel! Pour me a cuppa, will you?" Britisher: "Certainly. But please don't don't stare at the dormouse. It makes him nervous."
Dormouse disappears gradually until only its incisors are left. Tony Berm and Enoch Powell materialise gradually, arm in arm, smiling. Foreigner faints. Britisher pours himself another cuppa. 0. Matthews 71 Cranboume Road, Northwood Hills, Middlesex
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