DEVASTATED to learn Stonehenge was built by Turkish migrants with imposing moustaches? Here’s how to reassert your fantasy that being a pure-blood English native is a thing:
Know fuck all about history
The Normans? Don’t know. The Celts? Probably not. The Anglos? Who the fuck are they? The Saxons? Yeah, they sound tough. The Vikings? Can’t get more English than them. Wait, what?
Claim to embody ‘English’ stereotypes
Putting up with rain, queuing, speaking no other languages and fish ’n’ chips are all definingly English. And you’re proud of that, are you.
Believe in King Arthur
King Arthur, Robin Hood, Banksy; all these quintessentially English figures loom large in the imaginations of confused racial purists. However it’s important to remember Camelot was a myth, a representation, a load of made-up bollocks.
Get a St George’s Cross tattoo
Saint George was so English that he became the patron saint of England except he was actually Turkish. Ekrem who runs the kebab shop in the town centre has the patience of a saint and is Turkish. You should get a tattoo of him.
Join a far-right hate group
To reinforce your belief that you are superior because you were born on a small, wet island, join the English Defence League and spend all your time fighting in pub car parks.
Take a DNA test
Passionately believe in your unadulterated Englishness? Take the test. You’ll find out your DNA is Irish, French, Polish, Dutch and the police want to talk to you about a burglary with traces matching your genetic profile in 2006.