I heard it on the radio first: John Terry has been stripped of the England captaincy by Capello!
Yes, that's right: someone I had never heard of had been removed as 'England captain' by someone else I had never heard of for bending one into the ex-girlfriend of a team-mate.
For those of you as baffled as I was, John Terry, it turns out, is—or, rather, was—the England Men's Soccer team captain. In other words, an overpaid, coiffured softie who can kick a ball. Apparently, captain is official BBC short-hand for men's soccer captain.
Meanwhile, in real sports news, the 2010 Six Nations Championship opens today.
(That would be men's rugby union, for the totally clueless.)
Let it not be said that our political representatives never say anything sensible:
Guardian Science Blog: MPs deliver their damning verdict: Homeopathy is useless and unethical
Today the Science and Technology Select Committee delivered its verdict on homeopathy and it was devastating. The committee has called for the complete withdrawal of NHS funding and official licensing of homeopathy.
Hurrah! So, of course, the funding will be withdrawn immediately…
Oh no, that's right, there's a General Election in the offing. Do you really think the government is going to withdraw funding for quack homeopathic treatment, when hundreds of thousands of idiots swear by the stuff? That's hundreds of thousands of voting idiots.
Do me a favour. Should any politican come canvassing at your door in the next couple of months, ask them about their position on NHS funding for homeopathy. Then listen to them not answering the question.
We still have some way to go.
I'm not a particularly patriotic chap. I like England to win at the rugby (best not mention yesterday), I think it's great that Charles Darwin was one of ours, and, as far as I'm concerned, I live on the most beautiful island on the planet. But I also happen to think that the union flag is pretty damn tacky, I couldn't give a flying toss about how crap our overpaid soccer team is doing yet again, and I cringe with embarrassment every time I hear the opening chords of the national anthem—it's the Twenty-First Century, for Christ's sake!
My mate Fitz rightly points out that it would be ridiculous for me to feel proud of being English/British. I didn't have any say in the matter; I just happened to be born where I was. I also happen to have been born with two legs, but I don't feel particularly proud of them. Actually, that's a bad example, as I have a particularly fine pair of legs, but you catch my general drift.
But every now and again, I come across something which gets me right there. Something which tugs at my latent patriotic heart-strings. Something which makes me cry out, "YES, THAT IS US! WE ARE BRITISH. WE ARE BETTER THAN YOU, AND I AM PROUD OF IT!"
Something like this:
WE ARE BRITISH! HEAR US ROAR!
