Foreword:
Why the Brits?
For centuries, the English ruled half the planet. They taught the world how to drink tea, kill with a smile, and recite Shakespeare drunk in every tropical pub. But today, with the empire nothing but a memory on a cheap postcard, their only remaining currency is a sense of superiority, served with milk, in white gloves, preferably cold.
Albion, you were once a beautiful promise. Not an empire: a promise.
In your shadow, ideas grew that actually made sense: parliament, conscience, irony, freedom of speech, and the noble art of drifting toward compromise. You were the voice of reason in a world addicted to shouting. You were a place where even rebels had their own newspapers. Where absurdity was part of the system, not its mistake.
Now, all that’s left are the decorations. Like after a ball where the bodies outnumbered the dancers.
The monarchy is now a reality show. Oxford—a factory for Offended Lords. Shakespeare, a meme quoted by everyone who doesn’t understand themselves. And only the tea remains sacred. With one difference: now it’s brewed in a kettle powered by Russian gas.
In this decade, when faith in everything collapsed, Britain fell with style. Not spectacularly. Not with a fanfare.
Simply by becoming boring. Once, Albion exported ideas, knowledge, and imagination. Today, it exports reality shows and bachelorette parties featuring plastic penises. This is your epitaph Albion. Not from an enemy, from an old friend who still remembers how you used to smell of rain, books, and potential.
But if there’s anywhere a civilizational myth is kept alive just because no one dares to pop it with a pin, that’s exactly where you have to go, armed with mockery, distance, and zero fear of getting struck off the Sussex garden party guest list.
It’s not about revenge.
It’s not about settling scores.
It’s about exposing centuries of self-promotion masquerading as national character.
It’s about seeing how, beneath the accent, manners, humor, and self-deprecating jokes, lurks the most calculated survival strategy on the planet: Always be just a little better than everyone else, even when you’re knee-deep in shit.
Let’s not be afraid of laughter. It’s the most honest way to defuse myths.
And the Brits?
They laugh at themselves, until you laugh at their flag. So let’s see how much they can really take.