Motus Mentis

We’ve returned from our trip to Britain. We got around quite a bit — three nights in London, then a train to Edinburgh (where my mum grew up), where we spent another three nights. Then we rented a car and drove off to the Lake District, a stunningly beautiful area we’d never visited. After two nights there (we stayed in a little town called Keswick), we drove to Snarestone, a country village northeast of Birmingham, and spent the night with my cousin Claire, who has a lovely old house there.

Then we drove to Bath, where we spent two nights and visited my aunt and two of my other cousins, then to Oxford, where we dropped off the car and spent one night, then it was a train back to London and the flight home from Heathrow the following day.

It was a lot of zooming around, and more than a bit tiring at our age, but the sightseeing was enjoyable and it was good to visit with the family.

I have to say, though, that the trip was ultimately rather depressing: it would be hard to overstate how utterly doomed the ancient British nation and people are. Among the staff of the shops, hotels, and restaurants we visited, we hardly ever even heard a British accent. (In particular, I’d been looking forward to hearing Scottish accents in Edinburgh, and hardly heard a one.)

In London, the cab drivers were still mostly English, and to a one they asked me what I thought about Trump; once I said that I was glad he’d won the election, and that he was a necessary correction to the damage that had been done over the past few decades, they felt free to unburden themselves about the moribund state of England. The tone was unvarying: weary, hopeless resignation, and mourning for the homeland they had lost.

The British people have annihilated not only their own future, but also the magnificent, thousand-year legacy that all of their ancestors had bequeathed to them as stewards for generations yet unborn. All of it is just gone, destroyed. In a generation or two, Britain will be an Islamic nation; the only thing that can possibly prevent this is a furious awakening of the virile and indomitable spirit that once ruled the world, and it would have to happen now.

But it won’t. The only ones who seem to care enough, or even to realize what has been lost, are now too old — and as far as I can tell, they’ve already given up.

It’s all very sad.