IT is fashionable to disparage British traditions, but who among us does not feel a swell of pride as a magnificent Royal carriage dating back to 1902 sweeps by containing a bloated orange pussy-grabber?
Quite simply, no one does pomp and ceremony like us. What other nation could greet a sleazy reality TV groper mired in credible paedophile allegations with a guard of honour of the Household Cavalry, heroes of the Battle of Waterloo?
Or put up the president in Windsor Castle, built by William the Conquerer no less, where he can feel the warp and weft of the vast tapestry of history as he ignores new Epstein revelations suggesting he is not merely a sexual abuser but also a trafficker and nonce?
The naysayers forget that such state visits are a source of pride for every Briton. Is the RAF fly-by not a reminder of how we stood together in World War II? Though Mr Trump believes the US won it alone, as an arrogant Dunning-Kruger dickbag as well as a pervert.
Lesser countries envy the lavish white-tie banquet he will attend, the halls of gilded history echoing to his nonsense about wind turbines as guests wonder who would draw a limbless woman with suspiciously diminutive breasts as a birthday message for a pimp.
Moreover, in the world of realpolitik we have to get along with the US. Not doing so could result in arbitrary tariffs, withdrawn support for Ukraine and Trump’s acolytes stirring up race hate in the UK with ill-informed comments. Admittedly all of these things have happened, but perhaps our fine plumed white horses will stop them.
So ignore leftists who would do away with Britain’s gift for pageantry and focus on the positives: our proud history, the archaic dress uniforms of our armed forces, our many Royal residences. Let us not feel creeped out this is what Trump aspires to.
Yes, for the next two days we celebrate a predator in the grandest fashion possible. While, paradoxically, keeping Prince Andrew well out of sight.