We're British, Innit

by Iain Aitch

  SUNDAYS

  As Britain is still officially a Christian island, Sunday is our official day of rest, though more recently it has become a day of stress. Sure, most of us don’t have to get up and go to church any more (unless we are planning to get married in one soon), but we have somehow conspired to make it more stressful than a normal working day. Leaving the house at 7 am to be able to get on the golf course/join the queue at Ikea/fetch building supplies for that new bathroom that will ‘add value’, you bump into the paperboy, who is trying to cram six pounds of newspaper into your letterbox. The mangled pile of paper contains one ‘broadsheet’, one mid- market paper and one tabloid. Upon your return you have to plough through thousands of words about world economic meltdown, the falling value of your house (and why that may be linked to the death of Princess Diana) and how your football team is about to sell their star striker. And this is all before you have started the four-hour preparation of Sunday lunch or picked up the in-laws from the station. Monday morning seems sweet relief by comparison.

  SWINGING SIXTIES

  ‘If you can remember them, you weren’t there,’ goes the phrase most associated with the period that saw sharp suits, free love, the Mini, the Pill and Twiggy all come to the fore in London’s Carnaby Street. Naturally, the phrase also relates to the large amount of marijuana and psychedelic drugs that were doing the rounds at the time and it was a largely fallacious soundbite. Actually, the saying has more truth today: many of those who were at the centre of the fab, groovy happenings now have trouble remembering where they put their keys and whether or not they left the grill on, never mind whether it was Dave, Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick or Tich they shared a bed/a pint with. Yes, the generation that hoped it died before it got old has started to look at catalogues for incontinence pants.

  T

  TABLOIDS

  The small format newspaper, also known as the red-top has long been an institution, providing a breakfast table combination of news, gossip, sport and candid pictures of members of Girls Aloud. The most famous of these are the Sun and the Mirror, which have traditionally been seen to hold diametrically opposed political views. However, the Sun’s backing of Tony Blair in 1997 saw a sea change in the notion that the Sun was Conservative and the Mirror was Labour in leaning. The papers are famous for uncovering political and personal scandals, as well as for amusing and alliterative headlines, some of which use double entendre. Many ‘quality’ newspapers use the tabloid format in some way now, though they tend to give the size fancy names so that readers don’t buy them expecting news on the wrong kind of Jordan.

  TEA

  Nothing is more British than a cup of tea. Not even Stephen Fry wrapped in a Union Flag, riding Reverend Ian Paisley over Ben Nevis while eating roast beef with All The Trimmings and flagellating the shouty Ulsterman with a leek. Originally discovered by chimps wearing human clothes, tea is said to date back 4,000 years, but it wasn’t until it was imported into Britain in 1660 (when King Charles II first uttered the words ‘Stick the kettle on, love’) that anyone started to drink it properly. Enjoyed with as few as four biscuits, tea is the item that most Brits take on holiday with them, usually in bag form. Americans, especially Madonna, are renowned for their inability to make a decent cup of tea, usually making it as weak as their currency and as lukewarm as their enthusiasm for Robbie Williams. Singer Boy George spoke for a nation when he said he would prefer a cuppa to sex. The milk in first or last debate still rages amongst Britons. It is thought that more would turn out for a referendum to finally decide it once and for all than will turn out for the next general election.

  TEA (AS A MEAL)

  As well as describing our favourite drink, tea also gives its name to a confusing variety of meal breaks, times of day and ceremonies. It can mean an afternoon gorging on scones and cream (supplemented by a side order of cakes and small sandwiches), an occasion on the lawn with cucumber sandwiches or a break in a cricket match. If you are working class you may call your evening meal ‘tea’. If you are middle class you will call this meal ‘dinner’ and if upper class you will probably call it ‘supper’ and have your servants chew at least some of it for you first.

  TEETH

  Across the globe, and especially in the USA, the term ‘British teeth’ is derogatory slang, used to highlight an individual’s rotting molars and gap-riddled grin. American schools are full of children wearing heavy braces on their teeth, but in the UK our children find that these get in the way of smoking and snogging. National Health dentistry had started to rid us of this image somewhat, though the difficulty of finding an NHS dentist now means that our teeth are getting worse, with some turning to pulling out their own rotting incisors. Rumour has it that the abandonment of NHS dentistry is actually part of a wider government plan on tackling obesity, the argument being that if all you can eat is soup or smoothies then you will eventually lose weight.

  TELEPHONE BOXES

  The famous red telephone call box, designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, is a proud totem of Britishness that tourists flock to be photographed in or standing next to. The red K2 boxes were introduced in London in 1926; red K6 boxes eventually hit streets in the rest of the UK from 1935. Obviously, no self-respecting Brit would be seen dead in one nowadays as we all have our own mobile phones. Their primary use is as urinals, but some foreign visitors do use them to make calls, mostly to the prostitutes who advertise their wares in them on lurid calling cards. In 2004 it was discovered that most of London’s top crack dealers use the boxes for their trade. Trading floor gossip stating that British Telecom were to get a cut of these deals caused shares to rocket in late 2006, but the whispers turned out to be untrue. BT chiefs are rumoured to be considering a filtration system that can extract the nitrogen from the copious amounts of urine deposited in telephone boxes each year. This could then be sold on as organic fertiliser. This process of ‘extracting from urine’ should not be confused with ‘extracting the urine’, which is a technical process BT initiates when customers request to move their broadband connection to a new home.

  TENNENT’S SUPER

  Starting out as a small Scottish brand that really knew its market, Tennent’s initially issued regular strength lager in cans adorned with pictures of women who became more attractive the more you drank. This moment of marketing genius was surpassed by the introduction of the 9 per cent Tennent’s Super lager, which is now favoured by an estimated 72 per cent of all tramps, street drinkers and itinerant dipsos in the UK. Tennent’s Super established itself as the premier cru of tramp fuels in the face of fierce competition from Carlsberg Special Brew, although an early viral advertising campaign in 1987 was largely unsuccessful. Tennent’s staff sent 12 of Glasgow’s top tramps on the 6.15 a.m. train from Glasgow with instructions to spread the word to London’s down-and-outs. Sadly no one could understand a word they said by the time they disembarked at King's Cross Station.

  TEXTING

  We were not the first nation to get excited about mobile telephones, but we were certainly the first to make texting take off in a big way. While the US and Japan are still all fingers and thumbs we have got to the stage where school children have abndnd mst vwls and society has advanced to deciding important things like the outcome of reality television shows by sending text messages. Obviously General Elections will come next, with instructions expected to include: ‘To vote Conservative text 1; to vote Labour text 2; for Liberal text 3, to spoil your ballot paper with a scrawl about how the whole thing is controlled by the Freemasons and that the queen is actually a giant lizard text 4.’ Government technical experts assure us this system could be safe and secure, though there is always the risk that crossed lines could see us install President Jade Goody somewhere around 2016.

  THATCHER, MARGARET

  The Grantham grocer’s daughter first came to prominence in the 1970s, when, as part of the Conservative Heath government, she was responsible for ending free milk for schoolchildren. Left-leaning parents childishly nicknamed h
er ‘Thatcher, milk snatcher’, while children rejoiced that they would no longer be forced to drink lukewarm milk each day. She rose to Conservative Party leader in 1975 and was Prime Minister from 1979 to 1990, when she oversaw the Falklands conflict and inspired the resurgence of satire, which was christened ‘alternative comedy’. Socialist firebrands such as Ben Elton became stars during her reign, using their success to buy some rather nice property and make musicals with Andrew Lloyd Webber. Ninety per cent of London taxi drivers would like Lady Thatcher back as Prime Minister, and nearly all carry a small shrine to her in the boot of their cabs.

  THOMAS, DYLAN

  This Swansea-born poet and playwright is the Welsh answer to Shakespeare and Burns, though his lifestyle was more akin to that of a modern rock star: he drank and drugged himself into an early grave at the age of 39 and finally passed out at New York’s Chelsea Hotel. He is alleged to have said, ‘18 straight whiskies; I think it’s a record’ to the barman shortly before his collapse, which showed him to be part of the proud heritage of British binge drinkers. Thomas is most well known for his play Under Milk Wood, a mix of dark wit and wonderfully poetic wordiness that is set in the fictional Welsh village of Llareggub, a name which the BBC obviously didn’t take the time to read backwards before commissioning the work as a radio play starring Richard Burton. Burton went on to star in the film version of the play with Elizabeth Taylor.

  TIMES CROSSWORD

  An institution regularly tackled by great Brits such as Winston Churchill and Great Uncle Bulgaria, the Times crossword was introduced in 1930 and has become an integral part of the day for many. Its cryptic format demands concentration and dedication, which is what led the newspaper to claim that it has the power to stave off Alzheimer’s disease and mental deterioration in the elderly. A completed Times crossword should always be held with the page folded outwards to show just how clever you are. Hopefully no one will have noticed that you have just filled in most of the squares with obscenities.

  TIT TUESDAY

  Only denied national holiday status by its ever-shifting nature, Tit Tuesday is the first official day of British Summertime. This is marked by all males between the ages of 18 and 65 standing outside the pub and enjoying a refreshing beverage while marvelling at what British women have been concealing beneath coats, jackets and cardigans all through the winter. Despite its name, Tit Tuesday need not fall on a Tuesday. The UN reports that climate change means that Tit Tuesday is happening an average of two days earlier every year.

  TIZER

  One of Britain’s favourite red, carbonated, sugary drinks, Tizer was marketed in the 1970s as ‘Tizer the Appetizer’, which saw confused restaurateurs across the land removing prawn cocktails from their menus in favour of the mystery- flavoured drink. Being ahead of its time this didn’t catch on, though Pepsi is now considered as a suitable starter at fried chicken outlets. Designed to be drunk warm with a wasp in it, Tizer is produced by Scottish manufacturer A G Barr PLC, who also produce Irn Bru (see irn bru), though it was initially launched in 1924 in Manchester.

  TORREMOLINOS

  This colony in the south of Spain, the name of which translates as ‘smell of sunburn’, was established in 1974, during what was known as the Y Viva Espana invasion. British tourists, disguised in sun hats, and some wearing castanets, took the city from the Spanish to establish what later became known as The Four Elements of Continental British Tourism: beans, bitter, bacon, black pudding. Bitter was replaced as one of the elements in 1981, when lager was finally declared a suitable drink for heterosexual men by an Act of Parliament. Initially, there were violent clashes between the indigenous populations and the occupying forces, but an accord was later reached whereby the Spanish agreed the Brits were the hardest and the Spanish could lace the copious amounts of malt vinegar that the Brits use (see fish and chips) with urine. A limit on the number of sovereign rings that ex-pat Brits can wear was imposed in 1998, when it was discovered that the resort was starting to sink under their weight. Torremolinos is the number one spot that Brits emigrate to in order to escape what they see as an overload of immigrants arriving in the UK. They always do so without irony and without bothering to learn Spanish.

  TOWER OF LONDON

  A world heritage site and one of our most famed tourist attractions, the Tower of London is the home of the Crown Jewels and well known for its links to royal incarcerations and executions. Elizabeth I was imprisoned there and Ann Boleyn and Lady Jane Grey were both executed there. In modern times this would mean that the whole site of these grisly deaths would be pulled down and a memorial garden would be built, rather than allow it to become a hugely popular tourist site. Legend has is that the presence of ravens at the site is essential for the survival of the Tower, the monarchy and even Britain itself. So terrorists looking to destroy our great nation should probably invest less in hydrogen peroxide and flying lessons and more in finding out what kills ravens quickly and efficiently.

  TOWN CRIERS

  Initially a way of spreading messages to the populace in towns and provinces, these local announcers of laws and news are recorded as far back as the early sixteenth century. In modern Britain the position of town crier is reserved for loud men with an overblown sense of self-importance and who hanker to wear tights in public places. Now that this is a largely ceremonial role, town criers often compete against each other in national and international competitions to see who can bellow ‘Oh yez!’ the loudest. Ideas to modernise this element of British history have included having rappers ape the news-spreading techniques of their tricorn hat-wearing forebears, with ‘Yo bitches!’ replacing the traditional greeting.

  TRUCULENCE

  This is a highly combative character trait that made all of those bits of the atlas turn pink (who on earth chose that colour?) back in our empire building days (see empire), but also got us through World War I and the sequel, World War II – The Bosh Strikes Back. It also helped England win the World Cup in 1966 and little Archie Gemmil score against the Dutch in 1978. Originally thought to be a uniquely working-class characteristic (see class), and often aided by a pint of gin, a quart of mild or similarly imperial measure of alcohol, the truculent gene has proved itself to be socially mobile in the twenty-first century. Middle-class parents now apply the same never-say-die attitude to obtaining school places for their offspring and in defence of their need for a 4x4.

  THE TUBE

  Several British cities have their own underground or metro system, but it is the London Underground that is the greatest of these by far, with 253 miles of track and 275 stations served by the Tube’s trains. The Tube map itself is a design classic, imagined in the style of a wiring diagram by Underground worker Harry Beck. This design has since been copied for similar networks the world over. In 1974 a new, updated version of the diagrammatic Tube map had to be withdrawn as it was inadvertently designed in such a way that it could be used to negotiate the London Underground or build a basic nuclear reactor. London Underground is a favoured suicide destination for many Britons, which means that the often traumatised staff who work on the system have had to come up with inventive ways of describing suicide-induced delays to the running of trains. It is said that London Underground staff have more euphemisms for pointless death than minor celebrities have for cocaine. Favoured excuses for delays include ‘due to a person being taken ill at Baker Street’, ‘due to an incident at Pimlico’ and ‘due to severed limbs on the track at Kentish Town’. You should always avoid eye contact with anyone on the Tube, as London tradition says that you must fight anyone who manages to catch your gaze.

  TUNNOCK’S

  Responsible for some of Britain’s sweetest foodstuffs, the Scottish baker Tunnock’s has been keeping dentists in work since 1890 (see teeth). Their popular range of marshmallow and caramel-based snacks includes the much-celebrated Tunnock’s Tea Cake, the Caramel Wafer and the delightfully gooey Snowball, all of which have been tuck shop and lunchbox fodder for generations. The quiet, unfussy
nature of the business and the retro feel of the products that it manufactures has lead to a cult following for the company, which claims to sell 4 million of its Caramel Wafers a week. Scientists predict that the Scottish people will be 4 per cent marshmallow by 2050 and possibly have a crispy wafer-like skin.