It seems ominous this post I’m writing to mark Britain’s official exit from the European Union today is post N°666.
Get thee behind me, Satan. And all that.
Iron Maiden. The Number of the Beast. 1982. EMI / Harvest. Art: Derek Riggs.
Not ominous really, perhaps just apt. If I were a blog newbie, then post N°13 would do just as well.
Anyway, sorry for the downbeat tone, I’m just mightily sad that today marks the date I, and many like me, will no longer be treated in law as European. To this I say… go fuck yourself. And please give me my European citizenship and freedoms back. To my Euro and Brit friends in the UK who never asked for any of this, I hope life will be uncomplicated and kind. To my fellow Brits in Europe, I hope it goes smoothly… we are subject in many ways now to our host country regs. And to the Brits who voted Leave… enjoy your celebration, sure, but please don’t rub it in the faces of those whose lives, family, homes, and jobs are being affected.
And now, a Nutella poem
The Nutella Poem
(part III. Exit crisis)
Nutella, Nutella, O how do we send thee across the Channel?
Your nuts enrobed in palm oil, cocoa and tariffs, held up in traffic,
lorry park queues and bound by new rules…
We want our Nutella! shout the hungry masses at the borders.
Nutella! Nutella! Not commemorative tea towels and 50p coins,
Nor mugs with slogans and a chubby thumbs-up!
Nutella! Your nuts! We want your price cuts,
supermarket discounts and multi-buy dreams,
lathered in cocoa, palm oil, oh sugar, oh Nutella…
Oh where is Nigella?
Nigella, Nigella, a recipe we need, to feed us,
to please us, to ease us, tease us, to free us…
from empty cupboards and ration book hell.
Nigella, Nutella, palm oil, nuts, cocoa and sugar,
(love never ends) We’ll always be together, together in Nutella dreams.
Italy. Topolino. 1978.
#JeNeSuisPasUnVirus – be kind. It could be your nation.
#guyverhofstadt – keep up the fight for continued European rights of those citizens about to lose them.
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