Why nothing in England ever improves

Because of the class thing. The obedience thing. The pressure to be a good 19th-century subject.

Because people disagree while making it appear that they agree. It’s disrespectful and deceptive. This also means that there’s never a aha wake-up moment after which action is taken.

The English are way too deeply into waffling, the kind of talk that never accomplishes anything other than making others immensely frustrated.

I’ve tried the softly softly so-called “polite” approach for years.

It gets you abused, dismissed and pushed out of sight.

The fact that English people are so easily so terribly offended used to freak me out. I had never encountered anything like it before other than with mentally ill people.

I discovered that flattering English people by complimenting them with their hat or their shoes gets you smiles and apologising non-stop stops them from being perpetually offended.

But that indicates that they are not mentally well!

And me bowing to those bizarre English whims to avoid offending the English merely set me up for abuse.

I discovered that no matter what I wear or say or do, English people – generally speaking, of course, because not everyone here is completely off their rocker, thankfully – are always offended. They seem to feel that everybody and their brothers and sisters and cousins and friends has wronged them.

I used to think that being offended by your mere existence was a thing of the older generation. But it isn’t. The youngest generations may be into this even more. Holy mackerel.

There is a larger divide there, though. In my limited experience, the “very old” tend to use plain common sense, are very practical and are not so hostile and nonsensical. There is a big group in between that is generally bitter (hostile) and not interested in anyone else but themselves (other than for the sake of their image). The youngest generation are sort of 50/50 divided. So the biggest potential for positive change rests with the youngest.

(Including children, of course, though I am not really thinking of children when I say “youngest generation”.)

No wonder (some) autistic people target me like crazy in Portsmouth and cling to me like I am their only life support, their only ray of sunshine and become so angry when that ray of sunshine starts dying too.

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