Category Archives: British style

I’m fat, ugly, stupid — ‘n fuckin’ proud of it!

Screen Shot 2016-03-22 at 19.50.35Many British people, Dalrymple observes, are

beached human whales.

Dalrymple encounters a male whale in the hotel lift.

His T-shirt was emblazoned with a single word, ENGLAND, a superfluous message if ever there were one.

The British, says Dalrymple, are

fried food made flesh.

Their appearance signifies one of two things, or both:

  1. collapse of self-respect, at least in the aspect of physical appearance
  2. total lack of imagination as to the impression they make on others

Dalrymple points out that

slum-dwellers in Kinshasa make a better effort, with more success, in turning themselves out well.

England, foul England

Discobolus, copy of fifth-century Greek original, Water Gardens, Hemel Hempstead. It was in private ownership and stood at Amersfoot Hall, Potten End, until acquired by the development corporation in 1960

Discobolus, copy of fifth-century Greek original. Water Gardens, Hemel Hempstead. The statue was in the possession of a private collector and stood at Amersfoot Hall, Potten End, until acquired at auction by the town’s development corporation in 1960

The British townscape has been coarsened to a degree unequalled in Europe

Dalrymple writes that the destruction of Britain’s urban patrimony,

and its replacement by modernist multi-story parking garages and office buildings, represent a lowering of every Briton’s quality of life.

The unremitting tastelessness of British modernity

Britain’s townscape,

once civilised and gracious, has fallen prey to an ideological pincer movement:

  1. The rawest and shortest-sighted commercial interests demanded and won freedom to do whatever they wished with the inherited townscape, in the cheapest and most profitable way, so that harmonious assemblages of buildings centuries old suffered the most philistine and incongruous redevelopment that ruined them beyond hope of restoration.
  2. Birmingham

    Birmingham

    Radical reformers fanatically hated the architectural symbols of the past, merely because they were symbols of the past, whose despised élitist culture supposedly rested solely on exploitation, racism, slavery, and so forth. The official architect and town planner of the city in which I live wanted to pull down every single local building that dated from before the second half of the twentieth century, including entire Georgian streets and many masterpieces of the Victorian gothic revival. Fortunately, he retired when perhaps a tenth of the old buildings remained, the rest having been replaced by Le Corbusian leviathans so horrible and inhuman that many are scheduled for demolition less than 30 years after their erection. The Georgian spa city of Bath offers an even more startling example: in the 1950s, the city council wanted to raze it.

Screen Shot 2015-05-31 at 09.23.10The utter destruction of the aesthetic quality of British life

The British are

barbarians camped out in the relics of an older and superior civilisation to whose beauties they are oblivious.

Irredeemable ugliness

Britain’s city centres are the site of

Screen Shot 2015-05-31 at 09.26.02

Civic Centre, Plymouth

depressingly uniform chain stores without character or individuality, plate-glassed emporia hacked into the ground floors of historic buildings without regard to the original architecture.

This has deep social and economic consequences.

Where all is ugliness and indifference to aesthetic considerations, it is easy for behaviour to become ugly and crude and for collective municipal pride to evaporate. It seems not to matter how people conduct themselves: there is nothing to spoil. Attention to detail attenuates in an environment of generalised ugliness. What is the point of wiping a table, if the world around it is hideous?

How to be an Englishman: mutilate yourself

And do it as prominently and in as bad taste as possible

And do it as prominently and in as bad taste as possible

The British are ugly, base, vulgar, stupid and crude

Bosch, Christ Carrying the Cross, detail, 1515-16, Museum of Fine Arts, Ghent

Bosch, detail of Christ Carrying the Cross, 1515-16, Museum of Fine Arts, Ghent

The population of the UK, writes Dalrymple, is

more militantly ugly and unintelligent than any other known to me, one that consumes without discrimination and enjoys without taste.

The British add to their intrinsic ugliness

by refusing to wear any clothes that might possibly lend any dignity, rather choosing apparel that accentuates their natural unattractiveness.

For instance,

grossly fat slobs insist upon wearing figure-hugging T-shirts that do not quite meet the tops of the shorts that expose their fat white tattooed calves, exposing their repellent midriffs to the appalled gaze of the minimally sensitive.

The taste of the British

in everything from food to music and clothes is base, vulgar, stupid, and crude.

It is not that the British know no better

but that they know better and reject and hate it, refuse to aspire to it, and try to intimidate others into abandoning it, with some success.