There are a growing number of people in Britain who seem convinced that the country is under attack by asylum seekers storming the beaches of Kent in fleets of small boats.

While I accept that some concerns over the scale of immigration are legitimate, it is important to remember that this is not the first time that foreigners have landed on the shores of Kent in small boats: it has been going on for millennia, and it is this continual migration and interaction of different peoples that largely defines Britain today. In fact, Kent itself only exists in its current form because of a small boat invasion of economic migrants from Germania in the fifth century.

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One of the most obvious changes I have noticed since returning to live in England after 15 years in Hong Kong is that hardly anybody uses cash anymore, even for the most insignificant of purchases.

This was evident to me on earlier visits to London but the trend has now spread to engulf even the sleepy rural village where I live. Everyone uses contactless payment cards or apps in the convenience store, the café, the pubs, even at the bi-weekly farmers’ market where all stall holders have a mobile card reader. You can still use cash (for the time being) but everyone assumes you will be paying by card. Having to keep bank notes and coins on hand is now seen by business owners as an inconvenience and many actively discourage payment in cash. One of the few places I can still use cash without worry is the chicken farm where I buy eggs.

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Queuing is a well-established British tradition, probably dating back to the establishment of the mass transit system in the late 19^th century, and reinforced by decades of cultural indoctrination. As such, it should have come as no surprise that tens of thousands of loyal subjects were willing to stand in line for more than 12 hours to pay their respects to the country’s longest reigning monarch, Queen Elizabeth II. Even in the former British territory of Hong Kong, thousands of people braved unseasonably hot September days to stand in line for hours to sign the book of condolences at the British Consulate.

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At the height of the Khmer empire in the 12^th century, the temple city of Preah Khan was second only to Angkor in its splendour. The vast religious/military/industrial complex covered more than 20 square kilometres, larger than London at the time, and reportedly contained some of the finest examples of Khmer art ever produced. It was located about 100 kilometres to the east of Angkor and was linked to the capital by a broad highway lined with ornately carved stone bridges, temples, and rest houses for the weary traveller.

When I visited Preah Khan in January 2005, the city was gone and the temple was a desolate shell, stripped of nearly all its statues, carvings and reliefs. The ancient highway from Angkor was reduced in places to a sandy track snaking through landmine laden jungle. This was no idealised Tomb Raider temple hidden away down a secret passageway, it was all out in the open, a mass of crumbling towers, broken down walls, and scattered blocks of stone.

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The following discussion of morality in the Netflix series Ozark contains numerous spoilers.

“Byrde swoopin’ in,” announces Wendy Byrde as she invites herself for a drink with Buddy on the lawn of their shared house overlooking the lake. It is a key moment in the their initially antagonistic relationship, one that helps create an emotional bond based on mutual respect and affection. But it also announces the fundamental narrative of the series: the Byrdes are literally swooping into the Ozarks and, like all invasive species, they “wreak havoc on the local ecosystem” and its inhabitants.

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“This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,

This fortress built by Nature for herself

Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall,

Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,”

William Shakespeare. Richard II, Act 2, Scene 1.

It is somewhat ironic that Shakespeare’s most famous evocation of English pride and patriotism is given to John of Gaunt, someone who in real life was born in Ghent (in today’s Belgium), served as Duke of Aquitaine (southwest France), and spent much of his adult life in pursuit of the throne of Castile (central Spain). Continue reading →

Seventy years ago, on Saturday 1 March 1952, a crowd of up to 30,000 protesters slowly made their way from Kowloon Railway Station on Salisbury Road, up Nathan Road towards Mongkok. The crowd of predominately communist students had been defiant but largely peaceful until they approached Jordan when defiance turned to anger.

The South China Sunday Post-Herald reported the following day:

“Serious rioting occurred in Kowloon yesterday when a disorderly mob clashed with Police forces in Nathan Road shortly after 4.pm. A Police squad car was overturned and burnt at the corner of Austin Road, where a Police motor cycle was also thrown down and set afire… Mongkok Police station was stoned by an attacking crowd and a defending Police officer opened fire with a riot gun peppering three Chinese.”

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The message from the 2021 Netflix movie Don’t Look Up is very simple, and not very subtle. As articulated by Jennifer Lawrence’s character, Kate Dibiasky:

“We’re all one hundred percent for sure going to fucking die.”

And the reason that we are all hundred percent for sure going to fucking die is because we are ruled by self-aggrandising idiot politicians and greedy capitalists. Moreover, the vast majority of people simply don’t want to face the grim reality in front of them, and instead stubbornly keep their nose to the grindstone. Continue reading →

In 1964, two men, both approaching old age, gave speeches that would launch two of the most important political careers of the twentieth century.

The two speeches were delivered at opposite ends of the earth, one in the Grand Mosque in Qom, the other in a Los Angeles theatre, and had very different themes, one denouncing the Shah of Iran for his capitulation to America, the other supporting Republican presidential candidate Barry Goldwater. But the speakers had something fundamental in common, an innate ability to articulate deep-rooted traditional conservative values in a way that ordinary citizens could understand, and at a time when those values were being undermined by the twin threats of liberalism and communism. Continue reading →

There is nothing unusual about billionaires cheating. That self-proclaimed billionaire D.J. Trump, for example, is notorious for cheating at golf, amongst other things.

But why would India’s “youngest billionaire,” Nikhil Kamath, choose to cheat in a celebrity chess tournament featuring former world champion and Indian chess legend, Viswanathan Anand, that was designed to raise funds for Covid-19 relief? Continue reading →