We’re British, Innit: An Irreverent A to Z of All Things British

THE BBC (BRITISH BROADCASTING CORPORATION) (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Depending on your opinion (and mine depends very much upon whether they want to option this book as the basis for some kind of ‘Best of British’ style show where C-list celebrities pretend to remember clips they have just been shown), the British Broadcasting Corporation is either a wonderful British institution, the pinnacle of broadcasting and worth every penny of the licence fee or an overblown money pit that taxes viewing, wastes budget on endless clip shows and is a propaganda machine for Britain’s politically correct liberal-left. The corporation was founded in 1922 by Lord John Reith and came into state ownership in 1927. Its mission statement slogan is ‘Nation shall speak unto nation in quite a posh accent’ (see queen’s english) and it is now responsible for a huge array of television channels, radio stations and internet sites across the globe. The BBC has been responsible for nearly all of Britain’s best-loved radio (see radio 4) and television programmes, as well as Noel’s House Party.

BRITPOP (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Re-enactment societies have long been popular in Britain, often re-staging battles between the Roundheads and Cavaliers or even the rival armies of World War II, though in 1997 it was a musical conflict that was re-enacted, with Britpop reliving the days when you had to choose between The Rolling Stones or The Beatles. Unfortunately, it all went a bit wrong when the media re-created the nonexistent battle of The Kinks against The Beatles between middle- class mockney band Blur and the faux Fab Four, portrayed by working class Mancunian monobrow merchants Oasis. Lots of Union Flags (see union flag) were waved, some other similar bands formed and took a large amount of cocaine, some stole bass lines from old punk bands, Tony Blair was elected and everyone got home in time for tea (see tea as a meal).

BRUSSELS SPROUTS (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

According to just about every poll ever taken, the Brussels sprout is Britain’s most hated vegetable, which is going some as we really don’t like vegetables all that much at all. Even the country’s vegetarians are pretty ambivalent about veg. The correct way to cook brussels sprouts, or any other vegetable, is to score, soak for a week and then cook at a rolling boil for one hour. Don’t pay any attention to what Nigella says, just because her dad used to be a really corpulent Chancellor of the Exchequer and is now really quite skinny; you don’t want to risk your vegetables being al dente (which is Italian for recognisable). When Brussels sprouts are grey they are ready to serve. It is mostly the taste and gas-giving after-effects of these vegetables that we dislike, but the fact that they bear the name of the Belgian home of the EU adds to our hatred, as this is the place that sneers at our apple varieties and wants to impose straight fruit standards upon our native banana growers.

BULLDOG (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

The British Bulldog is the animal that we see as most summing up the British spirit, reflecting our never-say-die attitude (see blitz spirit), combative loyalty, tendency towards inbreeding and propensity to snore heavily. The slack-jowled canines are less aggressive than modern ‘devil dogs’ such as variations on the American pit bull, but they will stand their ground and match any breed when riled. The dogs also lend their name to the classic playground game British Bulldog, which is a kind of disorganised free- for-all licence to assault fellow pupils.

BUNTING (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

These distinctive decorative hangings are a sign of celebration and good times: the lengths of string and pieces of triangular cloth are hung across village streets, school fields or outside council offices. Most often used to mark a summer fête or a street party, bunting is usually red, white and blue, displaying a touch of patriotism. Bunting is also used to decorate used-car sales outlets, signifying that the secondhand car business is a non-stop party. Traders displaying bunting are obliged by law to blow one of those party streamers should you make a purchase.

BURBERRY (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Founded in Basingstoke in 1856, Burberry grew to be one of Britain’s best-known premium clothing brands, with its raincoats being seen by those at the top of society as the derigueur thing to wear during a downpour, be it in Berkeley Square or in rural Buckinghamshire. Burberry invented the trench coat for the War Office at the start of World War I, as well as kitting out Armundsen for his South Pole mission. Its reputation as a fashion brand has lead to Burberry being one of the most bootlegged ranges in the world, with fakes featuring its distinctive brown and beige tartan fabric popping up on market stalls everywhere from Romford to Riyadh. The Burberry baseball cap has become the signifier of football hooligans and chavs (see chav), leading many bars to ban them and the brand to cease their manufacture. In 2006 Burberry closed its manufacturing base in Treorchy, South Wales, moved its operations to China and thus ceased to be a truly British brand. Ironically, counterfeit Burberry is often more British than the real thing now, with much of the fake designer wear being made on industrial estates in the Thames estuary area.

BURNS, ROBERT (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

To the Scots, Robert Burns is every bit as important as William Shakespeare as a literary figure. The poet wrote in English and in Scots dialect and is probably best known for writing the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne, which most of us can just about half remember by the time we come to sing it each New Year’s Eve. Burns died at the age of just 37 (from a rheumatic condition thought to have been worsened by prodigious drinking), though he left enough of a legacy to be celebrated each year on 25 January, when Scots and their descendants mark Burns’ Night. This occasion sees Burns’ Address to a Haggis (see haggis) being read, which is followed by a large amount of haggis eating and whisky drinking. Robert Burns is in no way related to Montgomery Burns from The Simpsons, though he is celebrated in the United States by having two towns named after him.

C (#u25c7178e-1fe3-5135-804d-5415d9fadf32)

CARAVANNING (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Hated by pube-haired television petrolhead Jeremy Clarkson and loved by former foreign secretary Margaret Becket, caravanning brings the British characteristic of amateurism to holidaying. After all, why stay at a hotel when you can tow around a small tin can that contains a chemical toilet and a foldout bed? Most true caravan enthusiasts carry a small tartan flask with them at all times, so that the police can be sure they are not new age travellers or gipsies.

CARRY ON (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

This series of 30 comedic films ran from 1958 to 1978 (let’s ignore 1992’s mirthless disaster Carry On Columbus), creating a uniquely coherent documentation of British tastes, attitudes and humour throughout the period. The films were at their best from the mid-1960s to mid-1970s, containing a wonderful blend of self-deprecation, self-aggrandisement, saucy seaside humour, prudery, sex-starved wives, hen-pecked husbands, camp and red-blooded male fantasy. Not every film hit the spot, but any that contained the mix of Sid James, Kenneth Williams, Charles Hawtrey, Joan Sims and Bernard Bresslaw was usually a winner. The series’ finest moment came with Carry On Cleo in 1964, which was filmed on the set of Cleopatra and is memorable for the Kenneth Williams’ line (as Julius Caesar): ‘Infamy, infamy – they’ve all got it in for me.’ Though Sid James (as Mark Antony) also manages to sum up the series’ attitude to foreign languages with the simple expression ‘Blimus!’. Another seminal (quite literally for boys who were reaching puberty at the time) Carry On moment was when Barbara Windsor’s bra flew off during a workout in 1969’s Carry onCamping, which is one of the best-known scenes in British cinema history.

CHANGING THE GUARD (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

The Queen (see Queen Elizabeth II) is notorious for being easily bored, so most mornings she gets up, puts on her ermine dressing gown and screams, ‘Won’t someone change this bloody guard, I am bored of looking at them now’. This distractedness is fortunate for tourists, who love to see the pomp and ceremony as different regiments and companies hand over the keys for Buckingham Palace amid a display that reflects the very best of British tradition. It is colourful, dramatic and rather baffling for all but those taking part. More baffling still is the retention of the mounted Queen’s Life Guard on Horse Guards. These mounted troops sit in place for most of the day, ready to save the Queen should she be involved in a swimming accident, despite there having been no swimming facilities in the immediate vicinity since the time of the reign of Queen Victoria (see queen victoria). On hot days the Queen has been known to feign distress in a small inflatable paddling pool, just to make sure that the Life Guard are paying attention.

CHAV (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Origins of this shorthand term for white working-class youth are much disputed, with everything from Romany, Geordie and Kentish slang offered up as the true source of the name given to this group that mostly shops at JD Sports and considers a trip to Matalan as ‘a bit posh’. Male chavs mostly don tracksuits, trainers and Nike or (fake) Burberry baseball caps, while the female of the species often scrapes her hair back in the tight ‘Croydon face lift’ style, usually teaming WAG fashion items with something in white polyester to show off her fake tan. Confusion has reigned in town and country since male chavs started to adopt expensive outdoor wear brands such as North Face and Berghaus, especially as the latter was previously worn mostly by over-60s on rambling outings (see hoodies; rambling). This strange brand appropriation can cause great consternation when seeing an anorak-clad group approaching, not knowing whether they are going to drunkenly harass you or offer you some Kendal Mint Cake.

CHEESE ROLLING (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

The summer months do odd things to us Britons, bringing out our pagan past and our desire to mark the season with odd festivals, strange sporting events and suicidal chases after things we could quite easily buy at Tesco (or Waitrose at the very least). The end of spring and approach of summer sees grown adults, some with no known history of mental impairment, taking part in shin-kicking contests, toe-wrestling bouts and the annual cheese rolling at Cooper’s Hill in the Cotswolds. In this contest a whole Double Gloucester cheese is released to bounce its way down the hill, with actual human bipeds following it after a one-second gap. As the cheese reaches terminal velocity those following smash into each other, into the hillside and into the fence at the bottom of the hill. Broken limbs are usual. Catching the cheese is not. All of this adds to the world’s view of us as lovable eccentrics (see eccentricity), though few are willing to acknowledge our prowess in this kind of sporting pursuit, which is why they are objecting to shin-kicking and racing with a burning barrel of tar on your back being included in the 2012 London Olympics.

CHIPS WITH (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Yes, we do eat chips with almost everything in the UK, but there is a special place in our heart for the takeaway tradition of smothering the delicious golden fingers of potato in a variety of toppings. The law of the chip shop says that only four are acceptable: these are gravy, curry, peas, or beans. Of course, the peas must be mushy and the beans must be of the baked variety, though curry and gravy allow for more vagaries. Should it be thick? Should it be runny? Should the curry be a strange green colour and have raisins in it? Probably not. Some modernists seem to believe that cheese is also an acceptable topping, but these people are just wrong, sick even. If you are one of them please seek help. These wonderful meals should always be eaten from a polystyrene tray while walking, using a wooden fork that is far too small to be of any practical use and offering the very real risk of planting a two-inch splinter in your tongue.

CHURCH BELLS (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

The quintessential sound of morning in a British village is the peal of the church bells, calling worshippers to prayer, annoying shift workers and those with a hangover equally. The patterns of ringing do not vary much, becoming such a part of our national soundtrack that we will notice any irregularity. The language of the bells was utilised in civil defence plans during World War II, with different tolls meaning that the Germans had landed. This can be seen in effect in the 1942 film classic Went the Day Well, where rural villagers are inspired to a spiffingly jolly killing spree when Nazi infiltrators choose to invade their village and their village alone. The extended ringing of bells is mostly associated with the end of a wedding, which really is the last thing you need if you are still suffering the effects of your stag night.

CHURCHILL, WINSTON (#ulink_a39a12c5-7827-56f9-911e-ccdc43741933)

Widely regarded as one of Britain’s greatest leaders and often pictured on a Union Flag background giving his distinctive two-fingered salute, Winston Churchill has become the standard by which other Prime Ministers are measured. Churchill is famed for his leading of the UK through most of World War II, serving as Prime Minister of an all-party group from 1940-1945, with a second term as Conservative Prime Minister from 1951-1955. Often seen with cigar in hand, it was Churchill’s skills in speechmaking and in soundbites that kept British spirits high during the war years (see blitz spirit). Turning adversity to strength, his speeches such as his pre-Battle of Britain one which included the line ‘We shall fight them on the beaches’ are still remembered to this day by many. Chamberlain saying ‘Oops, this has all gone a bit tits up’ may not have had the same rallying effect. Sadly, most school children now think Churchill is ‘that dog in the insurance adverts, innit’. There is some irony in this, as Churchill suffered from depression, a condition he referred to as his ‘black dog’. If he had known his memory was to be overshadowed by an animated nodding bulldog then his black dog may have come visiting more often.

CHURCH OF ENGLAND (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

For many years this was the default setting with which all Britons were born; the Church of England is the religion for people who don’t really do religion. Often shortened to C of E to do away with the overly religious overtones of the word ‘church’, it is the religion you can enjoy between worships without ruining your agnosticism. Mostly there for christenings, weddings and funerals, your C of E vicar is always up for attendance at village fêtes, tea dances or jumble sales (see jumble sales). A surprising 37.3 million of us identified ourselves as Christian in the 2001 census of England and Wales, vastly outnumbering the 3.7 million who claim to have no religion and the 390,000 who adhere to the Jedi faith. Hopefully, state-funded Jedi faith schools should be introduced within the next decade.

CIDER (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

With Britain’s wealth of orchards it is no surprise that we soon worked out how to turn apples into a passable alcoholic drink, which has kept tramps, teenagers and farmers topped up since time immemorial. Premium ciders enjoy massive sales, but the real stuff comes from the West Country, where everyone talks, drinks and sings like The Wurzels. Popular brands have fantastic names like Cripple Cock, with a slippery slope of rough cider and scrumpy available to explore in rural boozers. One of the best things about cider is that many Americans use the same name for what is simply apple juice. So when a coach party stumble across a cider outlet in Bristol they are always tempted to try the local beverage, not realising that they are imbibing an 8 per cent brew that will have them under the table. This is the best time to tell them about the ‘tradition’ of visitors buying a round for the whole pub.

CIVIL SERVICE (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

With its name deriving from the Latin for ‘to lose documents and mislay CDs full of data’, the Civil Service is the backbone of British bureaucracy. Its stated purpose is to retain as much of your money as possible while also making it nigh on impossible for you to claim any of it back in times of need. The Civil Service includes the Government departments that deal with taxation, social security and prisons, though its name is most often linked with the administration and running of the Government itself, with Whitehall’s civil servants being some of the most powerful employees in the country. Despite having the word ‘civil’ in its title, the Civil Service does not insist on civility being a requirement of its staff when recruiting. In a 2002 survey only 14 per cent of civil servants surveyed identified as mildly to reasonably civil, whereas 45 per cent responded by simply hanging up the phone after leaving those asking the question on hold for 20 minutes.

CLASS (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

Foreign visitors are amazed by it, politicians claim it no longer exists and the rest of us struggle to work out where we belong within it. The class system in Britain is second only to the Indian caste system in terms of rigidity and complexity. Our place of birth, parent’s jobs, income, accent and even what we call our evening meal (see tea as a meal) can dictate our place on the class scale, which can then affect education, career and even marriage. Within the confines of working, middle and upper class there are any number of micro-classes, such as lower-middle or Duke of Cornwall, though it is hard to be mobile even between these. Jumping class boundaries is notoriously difficult: moving from working to middle requires acquiring a taste for olives and houmous, while middle to upper means knowing which fork goes where and which servant should polish them. Class envy is one thing that is upwardly as well as downwardly mobile, with the middle classes often affecting working-class accents to fit in. This is most in evidence when they have to call out a plumber and constantly refer to him as ‘mate’, even though he actually earns twice their salary.

COMMONWEALTH (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

Formed from the ashes of the British Empire (see empire), the Commonwealth is a grouping of 53 nations that come together to discuss and promote common aims around matters such as law, trade and peacekeeping. Additionally, this gives us in Britain something to feel in charge of, as well as bringing together a set of nations that we have some hope of beating in sporting pursuits. Our Queen is the current head of the Commonwealth, as well as head of state of some of the Commonwealth nations, such as Canada, Australia and New Zealand. These countries have been retained in this way as they are some of the tougher Commonwealth nations to beat at the Commonwealth Games and the Queen can simply order them to throw races or matches as she sees fit.

CONSTITUTION (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

In Britain, we have an unwritten constitution. This works in much the same way that unwritten homework or an unwritten note from your mum to get you out of PE does, in that it does not exist and is therefore pretty much worthless. For example, this means that any old dictator can come along and say ‘Don’t you remember? Killing of the firstborn is part of the unwritten constitution. I am reading it now, in my head.’ There have been many calls for a written constitution or Bill of Rights, but these things are always best agreed upon when a society is in its infancy. Once a country has evolved towards having reality TV shows and worshipping Graham Norton then you just know that the whole thing would be decided in a lengthy vote at primetime on BBC1. Sensible clauses would be voted out in week three, only for ones like ‘the right to visit the corner shop shirtless’ (see corner shop) and ‘the right to urinate in public swimming pools’ ending up as irrevocable law.

COO-EE (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

This homely greeting is mostly used by ladies of a certain age, usually to call across to a friend who is toting a wheelie bag or zipping by on a mobility scooter. Often called at frequencies that are inaudible to male ears, a call of ‘coo-ee’ can simply mean hello, though it will often be a prelude to an invitation for cake. As everyone knows, British old ladies spend a good amount of time refining and re-refining their fruitcake recipes and this word can act as a code or boast about a particularly fine cake. If you are lucky enough to hear this call then be ready to follow, as it could lead to a secret cake sale, which is kind of like the old lady equivalent of the underground rave scene.

COOKING LAGER (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

With the spread of pub chains, the growth of vertical drinking establishments and the pressure for breweries to maximise profits, what was once considered an exotic, premium drink has fallen to the very bottom of the heap. This means that standard strength lagers with identikit flavours are now referred to as ‘cooking lager’ rather than by the overseas brand names they bear. Cooking lager is usually brewed in the UK under licence and is the drink for those who have abandoned all hope that their drink will taste of anything at all. They don’t need to ask for it by name, all they want is the worst lager the house has available. Still, at least it is preferable to the ‘wife-beater’ sobriquet that one premium brand has acquired among drinkers.

COOL BRITANNIA (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)

Inspired by the resurgence of British music and fashion, as well as the changing mood of the country in the run-up to the 1997 Labour Party General election win, Cool Britannia was a handy media tag that encompassed anything that was on the up in the UK at that time. US magazine Vanity Fair summed up the time with the Carnaby Street-inspired headline ‘London Swings Again!’, naming designers such as Alexander McQueen and artist Damien Hirst as prime examples of what was cool about Britain. The cover of the magazine featured celebrity incubator Patsy Kensit sprawled on a Union Flag bedspread with Liam Gallagher. Cool Britannia even made Geri Halliwell look good, with a million middle-aged men committing to memory the image of her in that Union Jack dress. Sadly, the sham fad lasted for less time than the average Kensit marriage and was over by the time Tony Blair was breaking manifesto promises.

CORNER SHOP (#ulink_b4612b91-a2a6-5635-affb-3efb9160fed0)